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buygolfcartsshop · 2 years ago

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Buy Used New Golf Carts / Best Golf Carts Dealer

Buy Used New Golf Carts Online

If you don’t know already, golf carts are becoming more than just a means of transportation around a golf course. They have become wildly popular in small communities, on large private properties, and they are extremely fun to drive around. Beyond the normal uses of golf carts on golf courses, I have seen them on Farms, Retirement Communities, Country Clubs, Campgrounds, College Campuses, Hospitals, Military Bases, and even in some Towns. Now that we know the uses of golf carts, how much do new and used golf carts cost? Let’s jump right in!

How Much is a Golf Cart?

Depending on where you’re to Buy Used New Golf Carts Online, on average, they can cost anywhere between $7,000 and $9,000. If you’re thinking that’s a little too much to spend on a golf cart, you can always take the Used route.

Used golf carts can cost as low as $2,000/$3,000, and quite honestly, it’s the best way to go when purchasing a golf cart. If you want something a little fancier, some specialty golf cart shops can create custom designs that will cost you upwards of $20,000!

Below I break down the costs you can expect from new, used, and custom designed golf carts in more detail. Take a look!

New Golf Cart Prices

If you are at a reputable golf cart dealer, you should expect to pay around $9,000 for a brand new golf cart, based on the average retail cost collected by buygolfcarts.io. The nice thing about new golf carts is that the price can change depending on your specific wants and needs.

If you don’t need your golf cart equipped with all of the bells and whistles, then you may only pay a couple thousand for your base model. Of course, if you are looking to jazz up that new golf cart, you could end up paying between $15,000 – $20,000.

Sometimes it can be worth buying a new cart, simply because it comes with a warranty, there are no previous problems with that cart, and you have the option to customize through the dealer or manufacturer.

PROS of Buy Used New Golf Carts Online: New carts are in perfect condition and often come with a limited warranty. It may also be easier to finance, and find better deals when purchasing a new golf cart.

CONS of Buy Used New Golf Carts Online: The only real downside to buying a new golf cart is the fact that they lose a majority of their value as soon as you haul it off the lot, like any brand new vehicle.

How Much Do Used Golf Carts Cost?

Buy Used & New Golf Carts Online, on average, cost around $5,000 – $6,000. The good news about searching for a used golf cart is that their availability is vast. There are a plethora of used golf carts available, mostly because golf courses need to renew their golf cart fleets every few years. This can create a huge selection of lightly used golf carts.

To be honest, this is probably one of the better options when it comes to golf carts. Used carts cost significantly less than new, and most of the carts are using batteries to make them go. This makes it easier to fix parts on used carts, along with being less expensive to maintain as well, since you aren’t having to worry about an engine, filling it with gas, or changing the oil.

Companies like Buy Golf Carts, do an excellent job at taking used golf carts and turning them into amazing looking vehicles for a fraction of the price of a new golf cart.

PROS of Buy Used New Golf Carts Online: Used carts cost much less than new, and can be upgraded easily. You may even get lucky and acquire a used cart with upgrades already attached from the previous owner.

CONS of Buy Used New Golf Carts Online: Depending on the age of the golf cart, or how the previous owner handled the vehicle, hidden problems may arise when purchasing used.

Popular Golf Cart Brands to Buy

With new golf cart companies rising up every year, there are three main companies that have been building golf carts to withstand the test of time.

EZGO, Club Car, and Yamaha have been around and building golf carts for many years, but how do you know which one to buy? Below I break down the individual prices for each of these popular golf cart manufacturers.

EZ-GO Golf Cart Prices

EZ-GO – NEW

On average, the price of EZ-GO golf carts can range anywhere between $5,000 and $12,000. Let’s take a closer look at individual model prices by EZ-GO.

EZ-GO Express (4 Seater)

MSRP starting at $8,000 – $10,000

EZ-GO Freedom (2 Seater)

MSRP starting at $6,000 – $9,000

USED EZ-GO Golf Carts

On average, an EZ-GO golf cart can cost anywhere between $4,000 and $10,000. This all depends on the age of the vehicle, the condition, and whether it’s battery or gas powered.

2012 EZ-GO RXV

The average price for this model for around $4,200

2019 EZ-GO Express L6 (Gas Powered)

The average price for this model can cost around $9,900

Club Car Golf Cart Prices

Club Car – NEW

When buying Club Car new, you can expect to pay somewhere between $7,000 and $12,000.

Club Car Onward (4Pass) ELC DLX

MSRP starting around $9,800

Club Car Villager

MSRP starting around $10,400

USED Club Car

On average, a used Club Car can go for anywhere between $3,000 and $8,000.

2016 Club Car Precedent (2 Seater) 48 Volt

Average price is around $3,500

2015 Club Car Electric

Average price is around $5,200

Yamaha Golf Cart Prices

Yamaha – NEW

When purchasing a brand new Yamaha golf cart, you can expect to pay anywhere between $5,000 and $10,000.

2019 Yamaha Drive 2 QuieTech EFI

MSRP starting around $6,500

2019 Yamaha Adventurer

MSRP starting around $8,500

Used Yamaha Golf Carts

When purchasing a used Yamaha Golf Cart you can expect to pay anywhere between $4,000 and $10,000.

2014 Yamaha G29

Average price is usually around $6,500

2018 Yamaha Drive2 (Gas) EFI

Average price is usually around $7,800

Price Difference Between Gas and Electric – Explained

When purchasing a new golf cart, you’ll probably notice that electric golf carts are typically more expensive than gas. Check out a few examples below.

EZ-GO Freedom (Electric)

MSRP: $7,800

EZ-GO Freedom (Gas)

MSRP: $7,500

The difference in this example is about $300.

Club Car Onward (Electric)

MSRP: $8,700

Club Car Onward (Gas)

MSRP: $8,100

The difference here is a whopping $600.

Gas and electric golf carts are both great options when you’re ready to make a purchase, and when deciding on which to go with usually comes down to personal preference. In each type of golf cart you’ll find that maintenance cost associated with each carts unique features usually balances out the price.

For instance, with an electric vehicle, the batteries can last anywhere from 5 to 7 years, but with a gas vehicle, you will be doing regular oil changes, filling it with gas, changing belts, and replacing filters. So even though electric vehicles may seem a bit more expensive, the cost will balance out over time.

Are Golf Cart Batteries Expensive?

There’s really no easy way around this, but golf cart batteries are expensive. However, the batteries that are equipped in golf carts last quite a long time. Most of them, depending on the amount of use, and how well you take care of them, can last upwards of 7 years.

Typically, battery packs used for electric carts will cost as low as $800 and as high as $2,500. The more expensive packs, such as 72 volt systems aren’t usually found in your normal, riding around town, golf cart. So to be fair, the average system will cost you anywhere between $950 and $1,500.

If you want to learn more about the batteries used in golf carts, check out our reviews below!

U.S. Battery Review

Trojan Battery Review

Lithium-Ion Batteries: A Complete Guide

2 Passenger vs 4 Passenger vs 6 Passenger Golf Cart Prices

This may come as no surprise, but the more seats the golf cart has, the more expensive it’s going to be. The average 2 seater costs between $7,000 and $8,000. 4 seaters are going to be between $8,000 and $10,000, and 6 seaters run around $10,000 and $13,000. Let’s take a closer look at some examples below.

Club Car – Onward 2 Seater

MSRP: $7,700

Club Car – Onward 4 Seater

MSRP: $8,600

Club Car – Onward 6 Seater

MSRP: $12,400

As you can see the more seats, the more money. In this case the difference between a 2 seater and a 6 seater is $4,700! That’s quite an increase for more seats.

EZ-GO Freedom 2 Seater

MSRP: $7,500

EZ-GO Express 4 Seater

MSRP: $8,700

EZ-GO Express 6 Seater

MSRP: $11,000

When it comes to EZ-GO the difference between a 2 seater and a 6 seater is around $3,500. This isn’t quite as much as Club Car, but still a significant increase.

How Much are Lift Kits?

Lift kits are becoming very popular in the golf cart world, and for good reason. They add ground clearance for off roading, and make your golf cart look cool, but how much are they?

A lift kit for a golf cart will cost anywhere between $200 and $1,500, depending on brand, and the height you want out of the lift kit.

Most lift kits are brand specific. If you own a Club Cart then you’ll need to get a lift kit for your specific cart.

Below we have a few different options for lift kits that will accomodate those popular brands such as EZ-GO, Club Car, and Yamaha. You can read the full reviews below to get a better understanding on how much they run, and how they work.

Final Thoughts on Buy Used New Golf Carts Online

As you can see prices for golf carts are actually quite reasonable depending on what you want. In this article you learned the differences between three of the major golf cart brands in the business.

You also learned that there are some price differences when it comes to buying electric or gas, but both can have their advantages and disadvantages. Beyond that, we explained the differences between 2, 4, and 6 passenger vehicles.

We hope that this article has given you a better understanding on how much golf carts cost, and the confidence in deciding which make and model is right for your price range.

If you have any questions about golf cart prices, or have any information to add, please leave us a comment below. Thanks for reading!

#E-Z-GO #Aetric #Club Car #Cushman #Evolution #Icon #Advanced EV #Tomberlin #Yamaha

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mrsnancywheeler · 11 months ago

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midnight rain // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

chapter two

sequel

warnings: descriptions of gore, violence, character death, hurt/comfort, allusions to trafficking, secrets, inaccurate timeline, finnick might be ooc idk I'm not good at telling lmao, part one ??, unedited, ANGST, fluff, no use of y/n, pet names like angel and my love, the title will make more sense when I get all my ideas out in the possible next part, so long, I'm so sorry

2.9k words

Waking up in his arms is what saved you, every night when you were thrown back into that arena shivering in the cold, the warmth of him wrapped around you would guide you back to safety.

Safety.

Did you even have that? Comments made in passing by former victors and my Finnick’s attitude made your stomach turn. What truly lay ahead for you post the games? You couldn't focus on that yet though, right now you'd just have the muster up the courage to finish up the grand Victory Tour. Your reward for losing your humanity, for the blood staining your hands.

Finnick grumbled into your shoulder as he began waking from his own so-called rest, which you could only imagine became more torturous as time went on. Or not, maybe you'd become more numb to it as the present forced itself onto you rather than the ghosts of the past. Sunlight streamed down on his bronze skin, he nearly shimmered. It was as if the gods knew he deserved to be blessed with something for all the tribulations he faced.

“I'm supposed to be the one watching you sleep." His saccharine voice filled your senses like honey, the sound of sleep adding a rasp, in the mornings he was like honey and toast.

“Sorry I couldn't resist your charms and I didn't want to disturb your rest, golden boy." You smiled as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Your rest is much more important, it's your Victory Tour. You've got people to face and impress, be the Capitol’s Princess." He said it with a smile you could melt for, but behind his tone you could sense bitterness. Unsaid words he wasn't ready to reveal to you, something that had broken you apart one, and then led him back to you, into his warmth.

“Finnick-" It was a hidden tone that terrified you. What had he been keeping locked behind those honey-dripping, sweet-talking lips for so long? When would he hand you the golden encrusted key to his secrets?

“Come on you need to get dressed, angel. You have impressions to make.” He didn't want to talk about it, he knew when you were trying to pry and wasn't ready to reveal what he kept hidden. You did need to get ready though, today was District 7, the allies you'd had to betray. Just the thought of it made you want to retreat further into the warmth of the bed, the blankets, of his arms but he was unwrapping himself from you without another word.

Maybe if he couldn't tell you were trying to make him reveal things he would be slower and gentler about preparing you for what lay ahead, but he didn't want to stare into your pleading eyes and spill his secrets. Which is why he'd torn himself from your love in the first place.

"Stay on the script, you did what you had to do to survive. Charm, but it's not the families you're doing it for, it's them.” Them, the Capitol, eagerly awaiting your filmed performance. You nodded as Finnick wrapped his robe around himself. He made no eye contact as he left the train car and you felt yourself running cold. You were alone again, with your thoughts, soon your Capitol assigned team of designers would be here to dress you up like a paper doll.

You were frail and delicate, but lethal when it came down to it. Your tears were iconic for fragile femininity, but manipulation to win against those with stronger senses. An image you still needed to abide by, even if you'd rather lay down and fall into your head for eternity, punishing yourself for it all.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

There he stood, face firm as he readied the hatchet to slice straight through your brain.

“Birch, you don't really want me dead. We don't have to turn on each other, we can talk about it." You reasoned, tears brimming your eyelids.

“Why? Like how you were planning to talk to him about it too?" Birch nodded to the lifeless body nearby.

“He attacked me!" You defended, that would be the argument. The sweet tribute who had such a big heart, but did what she needed to survive.

“Because he knew you were trying to use him, sorry we couldn't all fall for your charms. All of us have homes, families to go back to. Of course I don't want you dead, but they need me.” He was pleading too and if you looked hard enough you could swear he was about to cry. Before you could say another word the hatchet flew from his hand and you dodged it just in time. Birch began sprinting towards you. If he got his arms around you there was no doubt he could snap your neck in a split second. His strength was one of the reasons he was such a good pick to ally with.

You were unsteady on your feet as you ran away, fumbling for something to throw, to block his advances. The hatchet had lodged itself into the ground not far from you, he knew you were going for it and the adrenaline was speeding him up. You grabbed it, stumbling forward as soons as it was within your grasp, turning forward. He was so close and paused a second. You'd be more dangerous close by then at a distance now, he'd helped you practice throwing different weapons in training which you were decent at. Decent enough to be a threat, decent enough that he regretted it, decent enough that you regretted it too, using his kindness to win against him.

But this was all too slow, he needed to either win or lose. So he gave up on the reason and barreled forward. You barely had enough time to think as you pounded forward as well, slicing into him, not deep enough to kill, but enough to injure, for him to stumble back a second. You didn't have time to take a second and thrusted the hatchet straight into his chest, definitely deep enough to kill. The sight of the blood trickling down his bottom lip as he fell backward blurred your vision. She was still left, you didn't have time to feel guilty yet you did.

“Mom, Laurel-” He choked out before he went completely stiff and the cannon rang out. Flashes of his mom and his little, 10 year old sister, shivering and shaking by her mother and his image stared with cold eyes at you. Giving your grand speech about his bravery and next thing you knew you were screaming.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Hey, hey it's okay. You're not there, you're right here. I've got you." Warm hands shook your shoulders as you woke with sobs wracking through your body.

That's the problem you thought your mind was racing awake, he had people to take care of you had selfishly picked your family over his, over all of there's.

“I know, I know, I've got you." Finnick enveloped you within his arms as you let your tears streak down his shoulder.

“How am I supposed to look at them, Finnick? How am I supposed to congratulate them for their child’s bravery when I took their babies away from them?” Your voice was creaky and louder than you'd expected.

He pulled you off his shoulder, facing you, his sea green eyes pouring into yours. “With a smile, this isn't about them, or for them. This is for Snow, you're still playing the game. I can't tell you it gets better, but you have to remember he's watching and you need to follow his rules." You nodded robotically, the old Finnick would have comforted you more. But, this Finnick was still recovering too and he was doing his job as a mentor. Keeping you safe from the vultures and their outrage if you didn't play the Capitol’s Princess good enough.

“Can you stay?" You whispered, even though he always did.

“Of course, angel." He pressed his warm lips to your forehead, engulfing you within his arms. You lay with him knowing if you fell back asleep with images of her family would echo within your soul, haunting your dreams. Finnick would ground you back, his comfort would stop you from screaming in the real world, keep your protected, but not the flashes of what you'd done. “You need to sleep, you have to do it all again tomorrow."

“I know." You wiped down a stray tear streaking down your face. He looked serene in the moonlight glow even if his eyes spoke a different tale. One of worry, one wondering how much longer until the waterfall poured himself out to you. “Finnick, I know things aren't the same between us, they haven't been, and I don't know if you even want them to be. But please, please don't ever leave me. I need you, to keep me from just floating completely away. To remind me why I won."

Your choppy voice broke his heart even more, he didn't know how much longer he could do this to you. He wanted to be as he had been for you, but the chains bore too heavy right now. There was too much on your plate to add more brutality to it.

“I would never even consider it, angel. I felt selfish for it, but you keep me grounded too. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you." His voice was softer than usual, wasn't as teasing, it was so pure, so lost.

“You're not selfish, Finnick. I know you've always just wanted to keep me safe, even if I don't know from what and you can tell me in your own time. I'll wait for you to come back to me."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. You were so sweet, so in need of his protection. He couldn't let them do to you as they did to him, but there was nothing he could do to protect you except keep it away as long as possible.

“You need to try and rest, sweet girl." You hummed in response, knowing that wouldn't happen.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Just you and me then." Her voice was always so rich, accented and friendly but strong. It was like dark chocolate, with a hint of caramel and raspberries. But now, it was exhausted. You'd trusted her more then anyone else, related to her even if your tactics were different. Even when the men had tried to split up as if it was District against District. Really they'd just been trying to get the two “weaker" girls out of the way so they could fight it out amongst themselves. Marlowe had been much too smart for that though. She'd fled from Birch the moment she sensed his demeanor change.

You'd both silently hoped the other would be dead, so that it wouldn't come to this. You and Marlowe fighting for your lives, your families, all as a silly little dance, a pageant for the rich.

“Just you and me." You repeated back, voice so soft it could be caught in the wind and drift away, feathery.

“I'd say we should just split up and wait to see who dies out first, but we both know you're much more popular than I am." She smirked with sadness twinging her features.

“They like you, Marlowe. You're fierce."

She laughed harshly, “So are you, but you've balanced it out. Anyways I'm sure if we did do that they'd send something out for us. It's all for the show, isn't it?" Marlowe wouldn't cry but you could feel the exasperation, the anger, the tears that would never spill in her wavering voice. “Isn't it?" She shouted into the sky. You could tell she was giving up in a sense, not scared of angering the Capitol. But that didn't mean she wasn't still a threat, if anything her wrath made her more of a danger in the moment. So as she started into the sky you made a run for it, grabbing the spear left by Conway. Oh, Conway.

There was no time to dwell on Conway or Birch. Right now you need to focus on your plan, gaining the upper hand. You needed to be in the water. Which wouldn't be hard, this was a marshland after all. Spear in hand you ran as fast as you could, enough distance would give you enough time to think of a more solid plan. Marlowe shouted your name, but you ran until your legs tumbled into the warm water, sweat ran down your face as the mugginess clung to your skin. You whipped around to where her footsteps headed towards you, gripping for dear life onto that spear.

“Was this your plan all along? That's what Birch always said, you'd play the part of a darling, of a ready to cry her heart out sweetheart just to stab us all in the back, especially with that training score.” She shook her head, dismayed. " But I get it, I really do. This is what they do, pin us against each other. If you wanted me to die you would have thrown that at me, but you haven't. But I can still win this thing.” The tears were burbling up again and before you could throw the spear into her she'd tackled you from the side.

Your lungs filled with the muddy water and you gasped for air that wasn't there. How ironic it would be, you ran for the water to have the upper hand and it would be the end of you. Your grasp had loosened on the spear and you desperately tried to find it in the water. Your arms failed, you kicked forward, but Marlowe was just as strong as Birch would have been. For a second you were able to lift your face out of the water and take a gasp of air before her hands plunger you back into uncomfortably warm water.

You saw images of Finnick, how disappointed he would be in you. How heart wrenchingly broken he would be to know he pushed you away to ‘protect you’ and there you were dead in the dirty marsh water. You wanted him back desperately, for him to trust you again, let you back within the walls of his mind. Suddenly your hands finally wrapped around the spear you'd been desperately searching for. With all the energy you had left in you, eyes searching through the murky water you aimed as much as you could.

Suddenly her rough fingers holding you down loosened and you forced yourself up, gasping for air. Hands still on the handle of the spear and you felt the warmth of a thicker liquid falling down on you. Straight from her neck, you'd gone straight through her throat. The cannon rang out, a voice proclaimed you the victor of the annual Hunger Games, but all you could do was bawl. Mumbled apologies, she didn't deserve this, nobody did.

Pictures of her mother and father glaring into you for taking away their only baby as you announced your loyalty to the righteousness of Panem. You weren't screaming yourself awake.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick hasn't fallen back to sleep, but your sniffles and the feeling of your hot tears on his arms made him glad he hadn't. That he could be here for you when you woke up once again, needing to know there would be no more death. Other things like ahead, but there would be no more arena.

“Angel, it's okay. Let it out, I'm here for you." He spoke with so much confidence that your drowsy self simply nodded as you cried and tucked yourself into his arms even more.

“Finnick?" You mumbled out through your groggy mind and tear filled throat.

“Yes, my love?" Even when your vision was blurred he looked ethereal, a god send in your time of need.

“Can you just tell me something happy, just whisk me away, please?" Finnick kissed the top of your head.

“Of course." The begging way you said it, pumped his veins with guilt. He's been too harsh, too much of a realist. Which wasn't how your relationship operates, he couldn't just talk to you like a mentor when you'd always meant so much more than that.

“Angel, after we get through this we're going to live in a beautiful house overlooking the beach. I'll annoy you but dragging you out to fish-” He began before you interrupted him.

“You could never annoy me, Finnick." You said softly and he pressed his finger to your lips.

“Shhhh, just listen and rest. I'll annoy you and boss you around it, as you like to say. I'll collect sea glass to make you beautiful things, we'll dance in the sand, and every second I'll think about your hands in mind, your soft hair wrapped in my fingers, your lips on mine. We’ll be so drunk on our own pleasure all of this will be a figment of your imagination, I'll cook for you, and we'll get dressed up to go nowhere before we just end up swimming the night away." Maybe he was lying maybe if Snow had his way it would break you like it had broken him, but maybe with your kindhearted way you'd simply build him back up and your bond would be stronger than ever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Sorry this is so long, but I left out so much I was thinking about. Especially about the games so maybe there'll be a part two if y'all want. Thanks for reading, likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x y/n #thg finnick #thg x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader fluff #thg #the hunger games #thg x y/n

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lovelettersforthedamned · 2 months ago

Note

college!hockey!peter inviting reader to a formal or team dinner or something would be iconic of you 👀👀

The Little Things

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.7k

✰ summary: more of peter's soft side comes out when you're invited to his team's banquet.

✰ warnings: language, mention of a bar, reader has hair that can be styled, reader is wearing a dress, a few kisses.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ hockey!peter parker m.list

gif by @ddlovatosrps

Smoothing out your dress, you sigh at your reflection. You shouldn’t be this nervous, you see Peter and his teammates almost daily. You can’t help but fidget with the edges of the fabric as a text pops up on your phone lighting up with Peter’s name.

peter🏒:

here.

Taking one last glance, you grab your purse and head out the door. Opening the door, Peter’s wide frame makes you jump. Whenever he picks you up, he’s usually still in his car, not bothering to walk a few feet to meet you at your door. He’s wearing a classic tuxedo, very different from what you usually see him in, naked or wearing comfortable clothing. Moving his hand from behind his back, he even has a bouquet of flowers. Just in time to replace the ones he got you a few days ago.

“I didn’t know you could clean up like this, Parker,” you grab the flowers from him and place them on the table next to you, “you look nice.” Extending a hand, you take it as you both walk down the steps, guiding you to the car and even opening the door for you. To say you’re shocked is an understatement.

Once he closes the door and gets into his seat, he can’t help but lean over and deeply kiss you. He’s holding the side of your neck, careful not to mess up the hair you spent an hour on. You only pull away when you need to catch a breath, “You’re full of surprises today. What’s next? You gonna propose?” You wipe his lips, the color that was once on your lips now transferred to his.

He smacks your hand away as he wipes the back of his hand to his mouth. “Yeah,” he wipes his mouth again, “keep dreaming, buggy.”

He starts the car and begins to drive to the banquet hall. The drive was relatively uneventful, besides Peter’s hand playing with your fingers in your lap while he drives.

Once you’ve arrived, you start to open your door before Peter tells you to stop and jogs over to your side of the car. He pulls open the door as you carefully step down. You thank him before he holds your hand and guides you into the building.

The room is packed, full of teammates and their families. You weren’t allowed to sit next to Peter, the only person you knew, so you opted to sit next to the other girlfriends of the team. You knew them well enough to engage in small talk, but not enough to be comfortable.

As Peter took the stage a round of applause filled the air, a smile on his face as he straightened out his jacket. His speech was full of gratitude towards the team and their hard work, pulling a couple of smiles and a few tears from the team. If you didn’t help him write this late last night, you would’ve been impressed.

The dinner ended and while you two walked out, again hand in hand, Peter asked, “After this, a few of the guys and I are going to that bar near campus if you want to come?”

“No I’m alright,” you sigh, “I have that essay I need to finish tonight. The research one, remember?”

He groans and throws his head back, “Oh shit, right. Well, I’ll be home before you go to bed, and I’ll bring you back those gross pretzel bites you love from there for some reason.”

You giggle before giving him a small kiss, “Aww thank you. Have fun and please don’t get in trouble tonight.”

“It will not be like last time, I promise,” Peter swears, a small smirk on his face knowing that he definitely will find himself in a sticky situation later.

He takes you back to yours, giving you another deep kiss as his form of goodbye, complimenting your dress causing your cheeks to warm. You walk up the steps feeling eyes on you the entire way up, it wasn’t until you closed and locked the door behind you that Peter drove away.

✰ author's note: another beautiful ask by another beautiful anon!! thank you so much for this ask!! if you want to send one in, you can! my ask box is open!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. there is more hockey!peter asks, so expect more fics!! ok, ily bye!!!

#hockey!peter parker #hockey!peter #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #tasm!peter parker #fluff #college!peter parker

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snap-oversteer · 2 months ago

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Hi:) Gotta say I find you infinitely cool and your car headcanons are so damn fascinating. Feel free to ignore me but do you maybe probably have some thoughts on Blurr? Since his personality heavily revolves around the fact that he’s the fastest racer on his planet I feel like you can give a really interesting perspective on him

- Keferon

DUUUUUDDDDDEEEEEEEE Blurr is so hard to pinpoint exactly what car he could be... theres just so, so many historical cars that completely dominated the racing scene, and there's many more that's to come. Before i go onto full-fledged experimental vehicles, lemme first introduce you to the Bugatti Bolide

THIS piece of art and engineering is a track-only hypercar, and it recently debuted at the 2023 Le Mans. It has all the bells and whistles you'd expect a race car to have, W16 engine, carbon all over, carbon brakes, 7 speed dual clutch transmission, what have you. The paint color is dubbed Agile Blue and what more perfect car to assign to our beloved Blurr. Bugatti claims it makes about 1825 horsepower with 1850 n/m torque, with a top speed of 501 km/h (311 mph).

Speaking of Le Mans, let's dive into those vehicles now. For those unfamiliar with Le Mans, it's a 24 hour endurance race held in France. It's one of the oldest racing series to exist, predating Formula 1 by 30 years, and it's still continuing now!

In Rescue Bots, Blurr IS in fact an LMP (Le Mans Prototype) styled car.

judging by the headlights it looks more to be a newer LMP Ferrari, but ehhh while its not a bad choice i wouldnt really associate Blurr with Ferrari, that brand's nature would be more suited for Mirage. but damn do they have good lookin cars. I would, though, associate Blurr with older Porsche. Statistically, Porsche is the current record holder for the most successful manufacturer in Le Mans to date with 19 wins, with one of their most iconic cars being the Porsche 917 & Porsche 956.

I think it would be criminal to not honour Blurr's racing history, that's why i'm putting a race car in here.

Honorable mentions! :

Ford GT40 - THE car that beat Ferrari at its own game, and has gained a cult following ever since.

Audi R18 e-tron Quattro - The car that beat Porsche's 16 victories, driven by Toms Kriestensen, and holding the most driver victories in a single car (9)

McLaren F1 GTR - I just like how it looks lol

#answers #cars #-suzuka #-drift #-maxie

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starkwlkr · 2 years ago

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hi babe!! love your dad!Charles ideass!! ABSOLUTELY MY EVERYDAY READ!! anyway if you don’t mind, can you make where ruby is jealous of her little sister/brother because her parents give too much attention to him/her and she thinks they forget her.

why not me? | charles leclerc

am i using a mitski lyric as the title? yes. i also got another request similar except uncle pierre makes an appearance

request: Hi! You should do a baby Leclerc one shot where she tells Pierre she’s going to live w him since they had the baby and she thinks they’ve forgotten her

Mathéo was crying too much, that’s what Ruby thought. She didn’t really understood why he even cried. Y/n always fed him, changed his diaper and even called him sweet names to comfort him. Years ago, Ruby was in Mathéo’s position, but now she was older and she didn’t like being pushed to the side.

Ruby was in her playroom. She was coloring in her Barbie book when she heard Mathéo cry. Charles was away for another race so it was just Y/n with her children in their home. Ruby ignored the crying baby since Y/n was taking care of him and continued coloring in. Once she was done, she put down her crayon and walked into Mathéo’s nursery where she found her mother attempting to calm the baby down. Y/n looked stressed, she probably slept about three hours since Mathéo didn’t want to sleep so he cried all night long.

“Mama, look! You’re not looking! I colored Barbie! I want to show grand-mére, can you take a picture and send it to her?” Ruby showed her work proudly.

“Give me a second, Ruby, your brother needs me right now.” Y/n adjusted the baby in her arms.

Ruby watched as her mother held the baby close to her. She felt jealous, she’ll admit that. They went four years with Ruby as their only child and suddenly Mathéo came. Now she had to share everything, especially the love and attention from her parents, uncles, aunts and most importantly, her grand-mére.

“Can you take a picture now?”

“Ruby, I can’t, I’m taking care of your brother.” Y/n sighed as Mathéo continued crying.

“But you always take care of him!”

Ruby ran out of the room nearly in tears. She decided that her parents didn’t need her, not since the new baby arrived. She ran to the living room and saw her mother’s phone on the kitchen counter. She knew she was still on a phone ban but she picked it up and unlocked it. She clicked on the messages icon and saw pierre’s name. She opened up the messages and typed out one of her own.

Y/n

uncle peair can i c ome live wiht you ?

She hit send and waited for a response. Luckily for her, pierre wasn’t busy.

Pierre

what’s wrong, my little ruby?

Y/n

mama do es not love m e

Pierre

Of course she does.

Y/n

I want to live wiht u and ki ka

Ruby didn’t get a response back from Pierre. She immediately thought that Pierre was already on his way to pick her up. What she didn’t know was that Pierre has shown the messages to Charles.

Suddenly Y/n’s phone started ringing with Charles’ contact name appearing on the screen. Ruby took the phone to her mother and then ran back to her room.

“Hey, you okay?” Y/n said when she answered the call. She put the call on speaker since she was about to change Mathéo’s diaper.

“I’m okay. But Pierre just received some messages from Ruby. They came from your phone.” Charles explained so Y/n checked her texts and saw what Ruby had typed to the Frenchman.

“Oh, Ruby.” Y/n sighed. “She was trying to show me her coloring book and Mathéo was crying. I’ll talk to her.”

“Give her kisses for me, I’ll be home soon. Let me know how it goes.” Charles said then Y/n hung up.

After changing Mathéo, Y/n carried him to Ruby’s room where she was all snuggled up with blankets in her bed watching ‘Cars’ on her iPad.

“Ruby, papa told me that you sent uncle pierre some messages. You want to live with uncle pierre and kika?” Y/n entered the room and sat on her daughter’s bed.

“Yes and he’s already on his way.” She said confidently.

“Well uncle pierre lives in Italy and papa and i would miss you so much.” Y/n said.

“No you wouldn’t! You have the baby.” Ruby replied.

“Ruby, papa and i love you and the baby so much. You’re my special little girl and Mathéo is my special little boy. You were the one who made me a mama. You know before you were born, I thought I was never going to be able to have children and then you came. That’s why you’re my special little girl, Ruby Jules.”

“Am I papa’s special girl too?” She asked curiously.

“You’ve always been, baby. He was so excited to meet you. He cried so many times but don’t tell him I told you.” Y/n chuckled when she saw Ruby laugh at the thought of her papa crying.

“So you still love me?”

“Ruby Jules, we never stopped loving you.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #ferrari #baby leclerc series

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muniimyg · 2 years ago

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kimi's comfort fics (2023)

note: these fics are pretty "old" since most of the writers are no longer active or the fics have been posted years ago.. BUT !!! some are recent with active writers so i would 100% recommend u check out their other works nd send them love !!! that being said, i did not link the stories but i did link the writers 🫡 this way u can check out their other works nd blog in general 💅🏼✨

nevertheless, they are all masterpieces that have heavily inspire my work nd personal life because i am delulu 24/7 <3 this list consists of my core comfort fics like... y’all don’t even fcking know how much i love them

‼️ for the most part, all of these fics imply mature content !!! minors dni ‼️

smau recs

@firebettercallnct

color of your shirt (kth)

cuffed (knj)

stay and cook (jjk)

stole your shirt (jjk)

went through your phone (jjk)

these fics were the ones that made me absolutely fall in love with smaus. smt abt the style nd way the plot seamlessly depict a beautiful and lighthearted aura... ugh, it jus gets me every mfking time </3

@kimnjss

be my baby (myg)

cyberslut (myg)

kinda hot (kth)

cherry pickers (jjk)

plot twist (knj)

i think kez is a mastermind nd i’ve always admired her constant updates nd organization! have u seen her taglist? BRUH i could never :’) these fics rlly made me feel BUTTERFLIES i don’t know how else to describe the way kez makes these works so fcking interesting every time

headcanons

@jungshookz

stuck with you (kth)

suit & tie (myg)

hellish (myg)

basketball!captain (myg)

baby, you can drive my car (myg)

beauty & the bookworm (knj)

these headcanons literally give the serotonin boost i need. they hit so mfking good nd the energy is jus 10/10

fic recs

series and drabbles by @noteguk

bad influence: collection (jjk)

any way you want (kth)

house rules (jhs)

for science (jhs)

let me tell u... these fics were a CULTURAL RESET. god bless them nd tHE WAY NALA IS BACK??? hello. i love u so much. thank u for creating such breath-taking stories with ur incredible writing... u’re insanely talented nd i look forward to more of ur work… like fuck,, i’m so shy rn 👉🏽👈🏽

series and drabbles by @yoonpobs

with you (ksj)

back-burner (myg)

ice skating and holding hands (myg)

cold (pjm)

i absolutely went ✨ I N S A N E ✨ for back-burner yoongi. i was literally taking an accounting class (which i failed nd i have never failed anything in my life) nd thursday aka back-burner update day would literally be my motivation to mfking LIVE. i love the underlying nostalgia in these works.. i literally don’t know who i would be without these fics (i’m downplaying how much i love them arghh)

series and drabbles by @1kook

skirt chasers (jjk)

netflix & chill (jjk)

dreamy (pjm)

absolute icons. literally so well written, it’s unforgettable !!!

series and drabbles by @h0neypjm

confident (jjk)

for practice (kth)

homie hopper till i die (pjm/kth)

these are the ones that... make me feel some type of way... like… 🦋⚡️❤️‍🔥 way… yk?

series by @floralseokjin

the devil wears armani (ksj)

crystallised saga (ksj)

please be naked (myg)

i think these fics stabbed me in the heart nd the wound never healed. that’s the best way i can put it... i love anything jordan writes but these... these are litereally the bane of my existance. crystallised has so much depth in it nd i honestly feel like i’m in the story with the characters.. i’ve never experienced desperation until i read the devil wears armani because wHAT THE FUCK... pbn is... yeah. let’s just stop here..... 😪

series by @btssmutgalore

nude (kth)

bicker (kth)

benefits (pjm)

🫶🏻 ok. we need to have a conversation about nude. NUDE HAS RUINED MY LIFE. yk why? because the same way it grasps my heart,, it breaks nd makes it new. literally. like mfker rlly said “whatever u say goes” bITCHJFKJSLS IM CRYING IN THE CLUBBBBBB 🫣

series by @personasintro

mutual help (jjk)

my tiny secret

i read mh while it was jus starting.. to see how much it progressed nd how many ppl read it now is mindblowing! my tiny secret was the first ever bts fanfic i ever read... so.... YESSSS

series by @gukslut

rattled (jjk)

oh my god. this has to be my ultimate comfort fic. i’ve never read something so original nd heartbreakingly beautiful. the gradual build nd the way each character experiences nd works thru their issues... chefs kiss... i read this fic at least once a month to remember what love feels like 🥹👊🏽

drabbles by @jeonqkooks

just friends (jjk)

angel baby (jjk)

the moon, and all the stars (jjk)

this is how you fall in love (jjk)

i always see jen sharing her thoughts on my work... but bro... let me mfking tell u... her work speaks for itself. i’m so in love......

drabble by @jungkxook

let’s play: dirty (jjk)

THIS ONE IS SUCH A FUN READ. i need it injected into me tbfh. i always reread it when i’m feeling down

drabble by @angelgukks

pu$$y fairy (jjk)

can not be beat. mfking love this drabble fr

#ask muni #🌱: kimi writes #bts social media au #bts fic #bts fake texts #bts fic rec #bts angst #bts fluff #bts drabble #bts smut #bts series

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 1 year ago

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Custom 1974 Jaguar E-Type

Jaguar designs of the past were some of the most iconic cars on the road. There was something about beautiful British designs that separated these cars from the rest of the world. It’s why classic car enthusiasts generally prefer old Jaguar cars to other international designs from the same period. So when Chip Foose designed a custom E-Type, it was a rather shocking design, to say the least. The car was designed for the SEMA show in Las Vegas and it wasn’t at all what the original car looked like (via Chip Foose).

The design was confusing with an odd mix of muscle car elements and classic car tie-ins. The Dayton-style rims and white wall tires just didn’t go well with the rest of the design. On the front of the car, you had a hood that was designed for a sports car and a shaved design that made the car look like a silver bullet. Nothing else made sense about this Jaguar, although it was well received at the SEMA show. Foose never designed a car like this again and there were good reasons for that.

#jaguar e type #jaguar #car #cars #chip foose #sema

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fuctacles · 15 days ago

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B-listers, Slashers, and Porn: The Movie Marathon Pyramid

Late for @strangetober 29th "slasher" bc i cant read calendars starting with Sunday 😩😩😩 also @stevieweek & "This is what you're doing on Halloween?"

M/E | ~4k | Steddissy/Hellcheer/Cheerscoops/Steddie | transfem!Stevie, transmasc!Eddie, FanslyModel!Chrissy, open relationship, sex work | Part 1/2 and a continuation of this | Ao3

"No way this is what you're doing on Halloween." Eddie frowns at his friend's streaming schedule. "Really?"

"Hey, it's okay if you're busy. I'm not expecting you to mod at my every whim. Someone else will be free or I'll just survive one day without. I'm not expecting a huge turn out anyway."

"Because everyone already has plans," he nods along. "Yeah, but why you don't?" He frowns.

"I do?" Stevie sounds confused over his speakers. "We're talking about them right now."

Eddie wishes he was on camera so she could see the impressive eye roll that Max had taught him.

"With friends, dumbass. Not a bunch of simps who want to catch your heart attack live. There's a thousand parties you could go to instead!"

Stevie sighs.

"Everyone already has something and I don'want to go partying with strangers. I'd rather sit at home and play games, honestly," she admits.

Eddie is, to put it lightly, deadly offended.

"You didn't ask me," he points out.

"You live in a different state, man."

"So does Lucas!"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm not seeing him either!"

"Well, consider yourself invited. I'll pay for your ticket if I have to."

"What? No--"

"We've been already planning a lazy movie marathon with Chris and you are more than welcome to join."

"That doesn't sound like you. A cozy night in? On Halloween?" Stevie wonders out loud. "Is this a trap? Have you been body snatched?"

"Dude, I've been working on so much shit this month I just want to kick back and relax," Eddie sighs, grimacing at the thought of everything he still has to do before the day of rest.

"Shit, right, you're releasing that new EP this month!"

"Yep. So for twenty-four hours, I want to shut myself in and not look at any social media, any music charts, or any emails from my manager. Phone off, Netflix on."

Stevie hums thoughtfully.

"Will the rest of the band be there?"

Eddie smirks.

"Just say you want to see Gareth again," he teases. "No, we've spent so much time in the studio for this EP I can't look at their ugly mugs anymore. No, it's just me and Chrissy this time. And now you, of course."

"Ed, if you want to spend this time together, you don't have to invite me."

"You think I'm doing this for you?" He raises his eyebrows at the tiny icon on his screen that represents his friend. "This is for my peace of mind. But mostly for Chrissy, honestly, she won't shut up about you," he groans.

"Really?" Stevie asks in a small voice, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Don't you dare play coy now, you seduced my girlfriend with your athletic body and now she wants me to drink protein shakes!"

Stevie bursts out laughing.

"I'm sorry?" she offers.

"I'll accept your sorries only if you join us for an evening of bad horrors and spiked hot chocolate."

"Deal."

Stevie has the Uber app open and is typing in her destination address when a piercing whistle splits the air. She winces but ignores it as any other time.

"Hey, babygirl!"

For once, she reacts to the catcalling, as the voice sounds familiar. Her eyes widen.

"Oh, you fucking idiot!" she hisses, which results in her long-distance friend cackling in amusement. Stevie storms to the car he's leaning against, a black van with a demon painted on the side.

"Hi, sweetheart." He give her his best sleazy smile and leans in to kiss her on the cheek. She doesn't protest but she does roll her eyes.

"You could have told me you'd pick me up."

"And ruin the surprise? Nuh-uh." He shakes his head.

Stevie sighs. She knows Eddie dropping the theatrics is as likely as Hell freezing over.

"Well, lead me to your lair, then."

He lights up, prying the bag from her hand while he opens the door.

"Take a seat, milady, I'll drop your luggage in the back," he says with a small, courteous bow.

The drive passes with Eddie drilling her about her favorite movies and the snacks they are missing. She assures him all she needs is a nap and a warm meal, and he dutifully drives her to her destination.

Eddie's house is small, a place he's renting right now but planning to buy if money lets him. He opens up the door, Stevie's bag hauled over his shoulder, and yells out:

"Chris! We have a guest!'

Stevie eyes him warily.

"You told her I'm coming, right?"

Eddie only grins. Then, a shriek rings through the house.

"Stevie!"

Chrissy throws herself at the girl, and thank gods for their athletic reflexes, because it could end up on the floor otherwise.

"Hi Chris," Stevie smiles, holding the girl close. It's been months since they saw each other.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Chrissy asks with a pout.

"To be fair, I was sure you knew about this until five seconds ago."

They both look at Eddie, but he's already gone from his spot. There is a clatter of dishes coming from the direction of the kitchen, though.

"Bastard is trying to placate me with food," she hisses, adjusting Chrissy's legs more securely around her hips before she walks towards the sound.

"And here I was wondering why he made his signature stew," Chrissy sighs against her ear. Stevie chuckles.

"Well, at least he knows what works on me."

They enter the kitchen to find Eddie stirring the thick dish in the pot.

"Hello ladies," he smiles with the obliviousness of an experienced jester. "Hungry?"

"Starving," Stevie admits reluctantly, placing Chrissy on the counter. "It smells good," she says, her hands resting on her friend's thighs. She can see Eddie's eyes lingering there.

"Chrissy doesn't like it too spicy, but I can add some extra chilli flakes to your bowl," he says, refocusing on the food. "Wanna try it?" he asks, raising up the wooden spoon.

"Sure," Stevie shrugs, and watches mesmerized as he gently blows on it before raising it to her mouth.

"How is it?"

"It's good as it is," she decides, licking her lips to catch everything. "Can I help with something?" she asks, already looking around the kitchen for something to do.

"You can grab the bowls. They're in the cupboard above Chrissy."

Instead of letting her jump off the counter, Stevie picks her up again and relocates further away, to the girl's delight.

Then she opens the cupboard and her eyes light up when she finds their pumpkin-shaped bowls

"Oh my god I love these! You guys are such dorks," she grins, while pulling them out.

"Wait til you see the Garfield tea set," Chrissy smiles back.

"Where is it?!"

The stew gets forgotten for a long while, all of Stevie's focus now on ploundering through her friends' cupboards. She finds not only the Garfield tea set, but also matching plates and a lunchbox. There's also a whole shelf dedicated to ornate chalices and tankards.

"Is this a real horn?"

"Sure is," Eddie grins proudly. "Metal as fuck, isn't it?"

"Can I have a beer in it later?"

"Absolutely," he laughs, picking up the bowls. "Now come eat."

Stevie gets distracted again with her spoon, its handle shaped like vines, but eventually she digs into the stew.

"This is good," she praises with an appreciative hum. "Just knowing you, I'd never let you loose in a kitchen."

Chrissy snorts into her bowl and starts choking, which doesn't faze Eddie, who just passes her a glass of water and pats her back.

"And you'd be right, because I've put all my culinary skills into three dishes I can execute perfectly, and everything else is a biohazard," he grins like it's something to be proud of. Which, in a way, might be.

"Well, everything I cook tastes kind of bland, so maybe your method is the way to go," stevie shrugs at that, eyeing Chrissy's watery eyes. She seems to have gotten a hold on herself for the time being.

After eating, despite Stevie's flight and the late hour, they start up Scream and hang out with mugs of steaming tea in hands. Eddie had vetoed booze right before bed and the girls reluctantly agreed. They argue the movie list for their actual marathon, as it needs cheesy slashers for Chrissy, outdated special effects for Stevie, and ridiculous plots for Eddie.

"Terrifier," Chrissy declares like there was no arguing with her. There wasn't, but her friends would try anyway.

"You guys need to see the one with a possessed Christmas tree."

"The Haunting!" Stevie pitches in.

The list grows and grows and they reluctantly agree to roll a dice on the marathon day to decide the watching order.

"You can have my bed and I'll sleep with Eddie tonight, okay?" Chrissy asks once the credits starts rolling and Stevie is dozing off, bundled into a spare blanket. The girl blnks at her sleepily.

"Okay," she says slowly with a frown. "You guys don't share a bedroom?"

"He snores," Chrissy winces like the sole idea appalls her. "And we both like our space. We usually share a bed anyway, just swap between rooms."

"I can take the couch," Stevie offers. "I don't want to hog your space like that."

"Don't worry about it" Chrissy waves her off. "We can switch around later. Now," she stands up to grab her hand. "Do you have enough energy for a shower or would you rather go straight to bed."

"Straght to bed, please," Stevie whines, letting her friend haul her up.

"Bed it is then, princess," she agrees, slowly leading her upstairs.

"Eddie's rubbing off on you," Stevie says with a wide smile.

"Yeah, he does that a lot," her friend smirks back and they giggle as she opens the right door. "Here's my room. Eddie's is the one opposite door, and at the end you'll find the bathroom. Left door, right one is the office," she explains while pointing along. "You'll find clean towels in the cupboard. Do you need anything? T-shirt to sleep in?" she asks, pushing gently so Stevie sits on her bed. Her sheets are dark green, matching the plants littering the room.

Stevie has her own pyjama's but like hell is she going to pass on the opportunity to wear her hot friend's clothes.

"Yes, please. Would it be okay if I slept in just pants?" she asks as well.

Chrissy snorts.

"Totally. Eddie usually sleeps completely naked so don't be surprised if you run into his white ass on a midnight snack trip," she grins. "And I don't wear pants to sleep, just longer shirts. You want long or short ones?"

For a second, Stevie's lost wondering what she's gotten herself into, but she quickly remembers what her friend is asking about.

"Short," she decides, watching Chrissy open the top drawer of her dresser. The blonde hums as she goes through its contents.

"Would this be okay? I can look through Eddie's stuff," she offers, presenting a pair of soft shorts patterned in ice cream cones.

Stevie raises her eyebrows.

"Is this on purpose?"

Chrissy looks down at the shorts, before chuckling at the unintentional Scoops Ahoy reference.

"I swear it's not. It's the first ones I saw that would fit."

Stevie takes them in hand and inspects the width and give of the elastic.

"They should be fine, thank you," she smiles.

"Of course, honey. I'm gonna take a shower, you can exploit Eddie in the meantime."

He has been left in the kitchen cleaning up after their dinner and preparing for tomorrow's breakfast.

"As tempting as it is, I'm sure I'll be out as soon as I lay down," Stevie chuckels. The hours spend travelling and catching up with her friends were finally taking their toll.

"Well, in that case good night, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Stevie answers tiredly, missing the moment when Chrissy leans down and pecks her on the lips. She barely manages to process that fact, before the doors close behind her friend. She smiles to herself before undressing for bed to finally get some rest.

Stevie's out to the word until late morning the next day, but thankfully, her hosts aren't early birds either. When she gingerly walks downstairs, she's greeted by the sight of the two drinking coffee and making pancakes. Eddie notices her first and waves to her with his spatula.

"Good morning! I'll have fresh pancakes for you in a minute. How did you sleep?"

"Like an undead," she yawns, beelining for her forgotten bag, where she has a fresh t-shirt to change into. She does so right there, and when she turns back towards the kitchen, her friends act like civilized beings that didn't just ogle her tits. She graciously decides not to call them out for it.

When she sits next to Chrissy, the girl murmurs an indecipherable greeting, pressing her arm against hers. Stevie gathers her getly against her side.

"Eddie, you could spare your girlfriend some energy, she's wilting here!"

He turns away from the stove to huff at her.

"She'd have more energy if she wasn't gathering fruit on her phone until two am," he counters, crossing his arms. His morning outfit consists of an apron tied around his bare chest, a pair of boxers and nothing else. Stevie's never seen all his tattoos out in the open.

"I like the beholder tattoo," she says.

"Do not," Eddie points his spatula at her. "Talk nerd in the kitchen. It makes me horny and Chrissy said kitchen is off limits," he pouts.

Stevie snorts, and rests her head against Chrissy.

"Sorry, I'll keep it to the bedroom next time."

"Thank you," Eddie nods gratefully. "How do you want your coffee?"

"Just a bit of milk, please."

It must have been waiting for her already, beacuse she gets a steaming mug put in front of her just seconds later.

"Thank you," she sighs, sipping on the coffee. She got it in one of the Garfield mugs, too.

"Of course. And here are yor pancakes. Pick your poison." After putting a stack of pancakes in front of her, he pushes maple syrup, butter and nutella towards her.

"Oh my god. This is the best breakfast I've had since I visited Claudia."

Eddie laughs at that.

"Don't get used to it. Tomorrow it's Chrissy's turn on breakfast and she's usually so out of it she can mistake salt for sugar."

To that, Chrissy flips him the bird, meaning she's at least processing the conversation happening around her. She can also smell the food, and steals a pancake from Stevie's plate to gingerly nibble on.

"I can help out," Stevie offers, nuzzling her nose against Chrissy's cheek before she straightens up to dig into the breakfast. "What's the plan for today?" she asks while slapping some butter on her pancakes.

Eddie hums thoughtfully as he pours batter on the pan. "We have all the candy we should need for trick-or-treaters, but we're short on vegetables for pumpkin soup. So think of anything you'd want to eat, we'll make a grocery list, and hit the farmer's market."

Stevie gives him a thumbs up, since her mouth is already stuffed with pancakes.

The afternoon is spent arguing about the quality of pumpkins offered at the stalls, and what is the ultimate fall soup. It's a level of comfort and easiness Stevie usually feels only around Robin.

She's not much of a cook, so when Eddie starts on the soup, she joins him in the kitchen, eager to learn. Which translates to her drinking wine and asking a lot of questions while hanging off his shoulder.

"How long do you need to cook the broth?" she asks, unknowingly breathing wine into his air.

"At least a couple of hours," he answers patiently. "My mom used to leave it simmering for the whole night, though."

Stevie frowns.

"Sounds like a fire hazard."

Eddie laughs at that.

"Yeah, a lot of things weren't a concern twenty years ago."

"Yeah, like condoms, considering you're here," she snickers and gets swatted away for her comedic efforts.

"What, you're not grateful for my existence? Bold words for someone being guested and fed in my home."

"That is not a word," she says with a frown, though being friends with Robin made her second guess her knowledge of the dictionary.

"It is now! Now, would my guest put her wine aside and peel the garlic?"

"Yes, chef," she salutes and accepts the ingredients handed to her. She manages to convince Eddie she's still sober enough to help him chop the vegetables as well.

"Ohh, he let you hold a knife?" Chrissy walks into the kitchen a moment later and pouts at her boyfriend. "He never lets me help with aything."

"Lies and slander!" Eddie exclaims at that accusation. "You can do literally anything else. Baby, you can even operate a blowtorch, but a knife in her hand," he turns to Stevie for that part, pointing a spoon at Chrissy. "Is like a fidget toy made out of razor blades."

Stevie, though, focuses on the important part.

"You have a blowtorch?"

Eddie groans, but Chrissy is more than happy to show her the little thing they use to toast the marshmallows for their hot cocoa and chocolate. Of course, this ends up with her making some for all of them. Stevie is the one to chop up the chocolate, though.

The porch has been decorated and all the candy is waiting near the door, because they didn't bother putting it in the cupboards. The food is mostly done, and the movies they agreed on have been found and added to the watch list, so on the actual Halloween the next day, all they have left to do is chill, open the door, compilment kids' costumes, and take in the spooky vibe. As soon as they take out their pies from the oven, they can start on the festivities.

Or so it seems.

"Shit," Eddie suddenly widens his eyes in the middle of the kitchen.

"What?" Chrissy bends down to peek into the oven, but everything seems fine there. "What is it?"

"What about the costumes?" he looks at her, genuinely alarmed. She frowns at him.

"We've been over this? You're Crowley and I'm Aziraphale."

"Well, yeah, but now Stevie is here!"

Chrissy looks at the girl with the same therror as her boyfriend, which almost makes her snort out her wine. Which would be horribly wasteful, since she got hers in the horn as promised.

"Ah, no worries, you've been babbling about the costumes for so long I had enough time to find a white turtleneck and a fly plushie, and the grey suit should be delivered here in the morning." She waves her hand dismissively, but Eddie is anything but dismissive about Halloween costumes. He gapes at his friend in disbelief.

"I though you haven't seen Good Omens?"

"After all the fuss you made about it?" She rolls her eyes. "Please. I just didn't tell you because you'd freak out about it, and you're talking my ear off as it is." She smiles fondly despite her words.

"You prepared a matching costume," he says, still in his nerdy trance.

"Well, yeah? Didn't want to be left out."

"I'm sorry I didn't think about it myself," he says, looking so guilt-stricken, she was worried he might pick up a knife and commit seppuku at any moment.

"It's okay, man, you're so good at improvising--"

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie interrupts her, his eyes sparkling in that insane daze she recognised by now from having one too many autistic nerds as friends.

"Uh," she looks to Chrissy for support, but she seems mildly exasperated at best, focusing more on the pies in the oven than their exchange. It was about time to take them out.

"I guess so?" Stevie offers in the end, and watches Eddie put away his beer, like kissing her required his full attention. With the focus she could see on his face she would think it did.

She can't exactly put her horn away. It needs a designated stand to stay upright, and it's somewhere on the kitchen counter behind them. So, in support of her friend's actions, she just puts her free hand on his hip and angles her head when she feels his palm against her cheek.

His lips are slightly chapped from the autumn cold, and she can remember Chrissy's complaints about him consistently losing every chapstick she buys him. Stevie makes a note to get him a whole shipment of those for Christmas. She likes the lips that kiss her to be soft.

Other than that, he's almost ridiculously gentle, unlike the persona he puts on for the world to see. It's easy to imagine him making out with someone, with Chrissy, for hours without getting bored.

But Stevie likes more, so she parts her lips and pulls his hip closer to her. They both get lost in their impromptu make-out session until the smell of fresh pie reaches their nostrils. Eddie pulls away first, sniffing the air, and when Stevie follows his lead, Chrissy bursts out laughing at their accidental synchronization.

"It's too hot to eat, sorry," she spreads her hands apologetically. "But I have some cookies for the meantime."

They move apart to dive into the jar of chocolate chip cookies that's presented to them. With pies cooling on the rack and cookies in their hands, they relocate to the living room to play one of the movies from their list. They pick a mindless slasher to turn off their brains after a day of cooking and other preparations.

The conversatiom focuses on the characters' bad choices and the highly unrealistic injuries, until two girls start making-out on screen.

"You know I've never watched your video?" Eddie says then, unprompted.

Stevie and Chrissy turn to him in unison.

"What?"

"Really?'

Eddie shrugs at their bewildered stares.

"I don't know, it felt weird. I never saw Stevie in such, uh, circumstances, and she's paying me, so..." he trails off and shrugs again. "You know I don't watch all of your stuff," he adds, almost defensively.

"Which is very unsupportive of you," she says with an exaggerated pout so he knows she's joking.

"I'm not watching you get fucked in those shitty amazon costumes, those are an insult to cosplayers worldwide!" he says and it sounds like something he's complained about before. "And did you have to do Jarley? You know we ship Harlivy in this house!"

Chrissy looks like she's doing her best not to laugh and Stevie's barely holding on herself.

"I'm sorry, you know I couldn't find the right girl in time. And I've already made scenes with Gareth--"

"The fact that he agreed to this is even worse!"

Stevie presses a hand over her lips this time, to muffle her laugh. Eddie glowers at her over Chrissy's shoulder when she reaches for the remote.

"Wanna watch it now?" she asks, already pausing the movie.

"What?"

"We're all here now, so it's not gonna be weird," Chrissy says, exiting out of the streaming platform. Her friends seem too stunned to stop her.

"Or it will be extra weird," Eddie points out, but his girlfriend only waves him off.

"Psh, like we haven't watched my videos before." As if to prove that, her Fansly pops up instantly once she opens the browser. "So?" She looks left and right at her company, waiting for the green light from them.

Like Eddie could ever say no faced with the cover photo of her page--her naked, delicate body covered up by a sword blade.

"Sure," Stevie shrugs, and Eddie nods along.

"Yeah, let's do it."

#steddie #steddissy #cheerscoops #hellcheer #stevie-ween #stevieween #strangetober #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #mine #transfem steve harrington #stevie harrington #stevierything #cj x stevieweek #transmasc eddie munson #mtf steve harrington #ftm eddie munson

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37sommz · 2 months ago

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000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: soul's anthem [6.9k, angst]. ✼. view: masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis: michaela has a decision to make. ✼. notes: back to our regularly scheduled programming following the daniel news. angst bc i'm incapable of writing anything else <333 been on my writing grind recently and i'm starting to get attached to my babygirl mick <3 ✼. warnings: mattia binotto, general language, beginning of a breakup?, zak brown jump scare, free fred from breaking his favorite drivers' hearts </3

✼.⠀OCTOBER 30, 2020 — imola, italy › practice day.

Michaela leaned against the garage wall in her race suit, water bottle in hand with her eyes fixed on the busy paddock of the Imola circuit. The candy-apple red of her Alfa Romeo car gleamed under the Italian sun, starkly contrasting the sea of Ferrari fans dressed in their iconic Rosso Corsa. The air was buzzing with the scent of burnt rubber and racing fuel, the sound of running engines echoing through the grandstands as the second Free Practice session drew to a close. As the buzz grew louder, she found herself lost in thought.

Fred Vasseur, her team principal at Alfa Romeo, approached with a stride that seemed more determined than usual. His eyes met hers, and she knew the conversation they were about to have would be pivotal for her career. "Michaela, I know you're tired, but we need to talk." His French accent was soothing despite the tension in his voice. She nodded, pushing herself off the wall and disposing of the plastic bottle with a tired sigh.

They walked to the quietest corner of the garage, where the smell of oil and the distant chatter of mechanics couldn't intrude. Fred leaned in, his voice low and urgent. "Binotto wants to see you tonight after you've finished your press duties. It's about your future with Ferrari." The words hung in the air like a question she hadn't prepared for. She felt a mix of excitement and dread. This was the moment she had been waiting for, but she could not shake the nagging feeling that she was not truly ready for what the conversation would entail.

The rest of the day was a blur of interviews and autographs. Journalists whispered and focused on her movements as she passed, their eyes filled with curiosity. The tension grew with each step closer to Binotto's makeshift office on the Enzo e Dino Ferrari paddock. Her heart raced as she stepped into the sleek building, surrounded by the history and prestige of the Scuderia. The walls were adorned with trophies and photos of legendary drivers, their eyes seemingly watching her every move. The faces of Fangio, Lauda, Schumacher, and Raikkonen stared back at her as if taunting her with their tales of stories and successes for their adoring Tifosi.

Michaela took a deep breath, the air thick with anticipation as she waited for Mattia Binotto, Ferrari's Team Principal, to appear. The door swung open, revealing a man who looked more like a distant fan than a master of the motorsport world. His smile was warm, but his eyes were sharp and calculating. "Michaela, thank you for coming," He said in his flourished Italian, gesturing to a seat. She took it not before she wiped her sweaty palms against her blue jeans. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the faint tick of a clock that seemed to echo the beat of her heart.

Binotto sat across from her, leaning back in his chair with a confidence that made her nerves spark with anxiety. "We've noticed your progress this season," He began, his words measured. "Your podium in Tuscany was... unexpected, but not unwelcome."

There was a pause, a beat too long.

"But," He continued, "We're still not convinced you're ready for the pressure of a championship-contending seat." The room felt colder, the walls closing in around her.

Michaela's eyes widened in shock, her throat dry as she swallowed hard. "What do you mean?" She managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Binotto clasped his fingers, a gesture that seemed more suited to a boardroom than a Formula 1 garage. "You've shown potential, yes, but we need a driver who can handle the pressure of fighting for the title week in, week out." His eyes searched hers as if looking for something she was sure he wasn't going to find. "And frankly, we're considering other options."

Michaela felt the wind knocked out of her. Her mind raced with thoughts of the countless hours she had spent on the track, pushing herself beyond limits she never knew existed. All the sacrifices, the early mornings, the late nights in the simulator, the physical pain she'd endured - it all felt useless. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the armrests of the chair. She took a moment to compose herself, the sting of his words lingering like the taste of blood in her mouth.

"What other options?" She asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Who could be your other options?" She pleaded, eyes still wide in disbelief. Her fingers formed air quotations around the word 'options'.

Mattia's smile never wavered, a mark of his seasoned experience in the business of breaking bad news to talented drivers. "It's not for me to say right now, but rest assured, we are exploring all avenues." He paused, letting his words sink in. "But, don't get me wrong, you are a valuable asset to the Ferrari family. We just need to make sure that when we make our decision, it's the right one at the right time."

Michaela felt the weight of his words like a bomb strapped to her chest. Despite her historic podium finish, she was still seen as an 'if' and not a 'when'. She took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. This wasn't the conversation she had hoped for, but she knew she had to keep her emotions in check if she wanted to leave this meeting with her reputation intact. "I understand," She said, her voice surprisingly calm, catching herself off guard. "But I'm not going to settle for anything less than what I know I can achieve."

Binotto nodded, his expression indiscernible. "That's the spirit," He said, his smile never reaching his eyes. Michaela could feel her world spin as she tried to keep herself from throwing up her last meal. "But you must understand that Ferrari is more than just a team. It's a legacy. A responsibility. And we don't take our decisions lightly."

Michaela nodded, the uneasiness in her belly swirled and rose to the point of nausea. "I'm aware," She replied, her voice laced with a rueful determination she hadn't felt in a long time. "I've worked my entire life for this moment. And I won't let anyone, not even Ferrari, tell me that I'm not ready."

Binotto leaned in, his eyes searching hers once more. "Your passion is commendable, Michaela. But passion alone does not win championships." His tone was softer now, almost patronizing. "You've proven you can handle a car, but the question still stands, can you handle the weight of the Ferrari suit?"

Michaela felt a flash of anger, but she swallowed it down, reminding herself of the stakes involved in a room with one other witness. "I know what it means to drive for Ferrari," She replied, her voice firm. "And I'm ready to prove it."

Binotto leaned back in his chair, his expression unchanged. "Good," He said. "Because if you wish to be considered for a seat next season, you'll need to prove it not just to me, but to the entire team, from the mechanics to the sponsors."

Michaela nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I'll do whatever it takes." She said with a conviction that she hoped was as convincing as it sounded.

The silence grew heavier before Fred Vasseur coughed gently. "Michaela, I think it's important to remember that your contract with Alfa Romeo is also ending this year," He reminded her, his voice a stark contrast to Binotto's coolness. "We've had a good season, and I know you're looking for a new challenge."

Michaela nodded, her eyes flicking to Fred, then back to Binotto. "But I thought Ferrari was the next step for me," She said, her voice filled with an unspoken question.

Fred cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "Ferrari is a tough nut to crack, but you're not without options," He offered, trying to ease the tension in the room. "We are interested in retaining your talent for next season. You need to weigh your options carefully. If you leave us, there's no guarantee you'll ever get in a Ferrari seat."

Michaela felt the sting of his words pierce at her resolve. Was he hinting that she was being too ambitious? She took a moment to process the information, her eyes darting between the two men. The Ferrari dream was slipping through her fingers, but she knew she would never give up without a fight.

"What's the deal?" She asked, her voice still firm despite the doubt creeping in.

Fred leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Alfa Romeo is willing to offer you a multi-year contract. We believe in you, and we'll support you as you continue to grow as a driver. But if you want to drive for Ferrari, you may need to wait. And waiting could mean sacrificing your career trajectory." His words were a stark reminder of the cutthroat nature of Formula 1 for any driver, much less a driver trying to dispel any doubt about the potential of female drivers.

Michaela felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her. Her mind raced with scenarios, each more daunting than the last. Could she really wait another season or two, hoping Ferrari would give her a chance? Or should she take the security of a contract with Alfa Romeo and continue to try to prove herself in a car that was intentionally uncompetitive? Her thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of her phone in her pocket. Guido Marotta, her manager, flashed across her screen like a beacon of hope amidst the turmoil. After receiving a 'go ahead' from Binotto and Vasseur to pick up the call, she answered with a tentative greeting.

"Michaela," He said urgently when she picked up. "I've got a call from Zak Brown with McLaren. They're interested in you for 2021. It's a seat with potential, and they're willing to pay big."

Michaela's heart skipped a beat at the mention of McLaren. The British team was on the rise, with young talent in Lando Norris, the very same Brit she had beaten to the Formula 2 champion two years ago. Regardless of her friendly rivalry with Lando, McLaren was a team that could offer her a real shot at fighting for victories, if not immediately, then certainly in the near future.

"What are they saying?" She managed to ask despite the wave of shock that settled over her. Her voice a curious mix of excitement and hesitation.

Guido's response was quick and to the point, a mark of his personality that made him such an efficient manager. "They're impressed with your performance, especially the podium in Tuscany. They think you're ready to step up to the next level. And they're willing to offer you a multi-year deal that would put you in a car capable of fighting for podiums."

Michaela's eyes widened as she processed the information, her heart racing faster than the Formula 1 cars she drove at top speed. A seat at McLaren would mean leaving the Ferrari family, but it was an opportunity she couldn't ignore. She could feel the eyes of both Binotto and Vasseur on her, each waiting for her to make a mistake, to show her hand. She took a deep breath, her racing heart pounding in her chest. "I need to think about it," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor of excitement.

Bintto nodded, his expression unreadable. "Take all the time you need, but remember, the paddock is a small place, and opportunities like this don't come around often." Guido's words were a warning, a subtle reminder that she was playing a game with very high stakes.

Michaela ended the call, the silence in the room thick with the unspoken tension. She looked up at the two men in front of her, their faces a map of the politics she had so long tried to navigate to no avail. "Thank you for the offer, but I need to consider all my options before making a decision," She said, her voice steady despite the tumultuous storm in her mind.

Fred nodded solemnly. "We understand," He said, his eyes reflecting a hint of disappointment. Binotto remained expressionless, his gaze unwavering as he studied her as if taken off guard.

Michaela stepped out of the office, her legs shaking beneath slightly. The cool evening air of Imola hit her like a slap in the face, jolting her back to the unfair reality. The paddock was alive with activity, teams, and drivers preparing for the final practice session of the weekend tomorrow morning. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, the noise of the surrounding environment fading into the background as she weighed her options. The decision before her was impossible: stay with the Ferrari family and hope for a chance that might never come, or take a leap into the unknown with McLaren, a team on the rise but without the guarantee of any tangible success.

Her phone buzzed again in her back pocket. This time, it was her boyfriend, Olivier. She had hoped he would be there for her, to help navigate the stormy waters of her career. But his texts had been sparse and unenthusiastic. Work had taken him away from the track more often than not, leaving her to face the pressures of Formula 1 alone.

Michaela took a moment to compose herself before reading the message. It was a simple question about her plans for the night. The distance between them had grown over the past few weeks, and his new job as a race analyst kept him busy and detached from her personal little racing world. The lack of support was palpable, and she found herself resenting him for it.

With a heavy heart, she texted back that she had an important call and needed some space to think. Olivier responded with a curt 'Okay', and she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anger. The callousness of his reply only further reminded her of Jenson's words during that night they shared in his hotel in Tuscany.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a familiar engine roar, snapping her out of her brooding. The McLaren MCL35M, piloted by Lando Norris, was being looked at by a group of papaya-clad mechanics. The sight of the orange car brought a bitterness to her tongue, a taste of rivalry from their time in Formula 2. But now, the prospect of racing alongside him in the same team had an allure she hadn't anticipated.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the paddock as she made her way back to her own garage. Her mind was a tornado of thoughts and emotions. The podium finish in Tuscany had brought her career to a new level, but it had also exposed the cracks in her relationship with Olivier. The fight for the top was becoming as much about proving herself to the sport as it was about proving herself to him.

Michaela stepped into the Alfa Romeo garage, the starkness of the white walls contrasting sharply with the Ferrari red that had surrounded her just minutes before. Her team greeted her with nods of respect and understanding; they knew the stakes of her meeting with Binotto and Vasseur. She took a moment to appreciate their kindness before retreating to her personal space to call Travis.

She held her uncle's opinion in the highest regard. As she explained the dilemma presented to her by Binotto, Vasseur, and Brown, she could already feel Travis' incoming response.

"Michaela, I know you're going through a tough time," He said, his Australian twang cutting through the line. "But remember, you're worth more than any contract they throw at you. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." His words echoed in her mind as she sat on the cold, metal floor, her back against the wall of her small driver's home.

Michaela nodded to herself, the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She knew he was right. Her entire career had been about proving herself, about fighting against the odds. But this was different. This was Ferrari. The pinnacle of motorsport. The dream she had chased since she was a little girl watching her heroes race in the very same series. "I know," She murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears. "But it feels like no matter what I do, I'm never going to be enough for them."

Travis' voice grew stern. "You're more than enough, Mitch." The use of the childhood alias she would use to enter karting races when she was much younger drew a soft laugh from her. "You've got talent that could outshine anyone on that grid. Don't you dare let them tell you any bullshit otherwise." His crass words were a balm to her bruised ego, a reminder of the fire that had driven her to this point.

Michaela took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. "What should I do?" She asked, her voice shaky.

"You need to trust yourself," Travis said firmly. "You've come too far to let someone else dictate your future. If Ferrari doesn't see what you're capable of, then maybe it's time to show them what they're missing out on."

Michaela's eyes drifted to her reflection in the shiny Alfa Romeo emblem on the wall. She saw the little girl with her first go-kart, the teenager fighting tooth and nail in every race, the woman who had just earned her place on the podium. A sense of determination swelled within her. "You're right," she murmured, wiping a rogue tear from her cheek. "I can't wait around for them to decide my worth."

Her resolve strengthened with every beat of her heart. The decision was clear: she had to take the risk with McLaren. They were offering her a chance to prove herself in a competitive car, and she knew she could step up to the plate. The thrill of the challenge coursed through her veins like adrenaline. The very same adrenaline that filled her with anticipation every time she stepped into her car and onto the track.

With a newfound sense of decisiveness, she called Guido back, her voice clear and direct. "Set up the meeting with McLaren," she said. "I'm ready to explore my options."

Guido's response was swift and business-like. "Good call, Michaela. I'll get it sorted."

Michaela ended the call with a sense of relief as if she had just taken the first step in reclaiming control over her destiny. She took a moment to appreciate the quiet of the garage, the rhythmic buzz of tools, and the murmur of engineers discussing setup changes a comforting backdrop. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic storm of emotions playing out in her mind.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 01, 2020 — imola, italy › race day.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity, with a flurry of meetings and phone calls that left her little time to reflect on her personal life. The final practice session and qualifying passed in a blur, her focus solely on the job at hand: securing the best possible grid position for the upcoming race.

Michaela found solace in the roar of the engine, the vibration of the car beneath her, and the way the tires whispered secrets of grip and speed to her. It was the sweet hum of mechanical perfection that drowned out the rushes of doubt and anxiety. She pushed her Alfa Romeo to the limit, setting a time that was surprisingly close to the Ferrari of Sebastian Vettel.

The qualifying session was intense, with drivers jostling for the top position, but she remained focused. Her mind was a cage, shutting out everything but the track ahead. When she climbed out of the car, her heart was racing, not just from the exertion but from the thrill of the chase. The team congratulated her on outqualifying both her teammate Kimi, and Sebastian, their smiles genuine, but her thoughts were already racing to the next battle: the race itself.

The night before the Grand Prix, she lay in her hotel room, the TV playing the highlights of her podium finish in Tuscany as they discussed the future she wasn't any more sure about than they were. The commentators' voices grew distant as she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of Ferrari's elusive offer and the tantalizing prospect of McLaren. She picked up her phone, the screen lighting up the dark room. Olivier's face popped up on the screen, his expression one of forced cheerfulness. Michaela scoffed to herself as she remembered their one-year anniversary was approaching in less than three months without as much as an acknowledgment from the Frenchman.

Their relationship had been strained at best since her podium finish, his lack of support stinging more than any of the criticisms from the media or the whispers in the paddock. The distance between them was palpable, and the thought of their upcoming trip to Monaco, which was supposed to be romantic, now felt like a chore she couldn't escape.

Michaela's mind was a tumult of emotions as she stared at the screen. The text from Olivier was innocent, asking about her day and her preparations for the race. But it was his detachment that was eating away at her. Her historic podium finish in Tuscany should have been a celebration, a moment they shared together. Instead, he had been glued to his phone as he picked her up from the airport, congratulating her with a peck on the cheek before retreating to answer his emails.

Her thoughts drifted to Jenson, his words of support and understanding after the race resonated in her ears. The night they had shared was a brief escape from the pressure, a spark of comfort that had quickly turned into a fire of guilt and confusion. But as she sat in the quiet hotel room, she couldn't deny that his words had planted a seed of doubt in her heart. Was Olivier really the one for her? Or was she just clinging to the familiarity of their relationship out of fear of being alone in this high-stakes world?

Michaela threw her phone onto the bed, frustration building within her. She needed to focus on the race tomorrow, not the tangled mess of her love life. The pressure was immense, but she had faced worse. The race was her sanctuary, the one place where she could truly be herself, free from the scrutiny and expectations of others.

The next day, the grandstands were a sea of Ferrari red, the air thick with anticipation. As she stood out on the track in her Alfa Romeo racing suit, the Italian national anthem playing out, she felt a pang of regret for the dream that seemed to be slipping away. But she pushed it aside, reminding herself of her uncle's words. This race was about more than just points or positions; it was about making a statement.

The lights went out, and the engines roared to life. She dropped the clutch and the car leaped forward, her eyes fixed on the first corner. The opening laps were a dance of strategy and skill, pushing for position without making contact. As the race unfolded, she felt the car come alive beneath her, responding to her every input with a ferocity that matched her own.

Michaela's mind was singularly focused on the task at hand, the tire strategies, the car's setup, and the ever-changing track conditions. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles tightened with the intensity of her focus. She knew every inch of this circuit like the back of her hand, every bump, every nuance that could be taken advantage of to shave off a tenth of a second.

The race was a battleground of pace, a silent war of speed and precision. The scream of engines, the smell of burning rubber, the taste of adrenaline—it was all familiar to her now, a chorus of sensations that played out in her mind like a well-rehearsed choir. She pushed her Alfa Romeo to the limits, every turn a declaration of her intentions to the Ferrari team watching from the pits.

As the race approached its final stages, the tension grew. The lead drivers were locked in a fierce battle, but it was the midfield fight that had the crowd on the edge of their seats. The McLaren of Lando Norris in 10th and the AlphaTauri of Daniil Kvyat in 8th were dueling, with her car sandwiched in between. The podium was still a distant hope, but a solid points finish was within her grasp.

Her heart raced as she saw the gap to Kvyat shrinking, her eyes flickering between the track ahead and the mirrors. The Russian was known for his aggressive driving, and she knew she had to be ready for anything. The moment came on the 58th lap, as Kvyat made a daring move around the outside of a tight corner. She braced herself, her muscles tense as she waited for the inevitable contact that never came. He'd gone too wide, opening the door for her to act quickly.

Michaela didn't hesitate, seizing the opportunity with the finesse of a seasoned veteran. She shot down the inside, the roar of the Alfa Romeo's engine echoing through the narrow corridor of the track. The move was clean and decisive, and it earned her a well-deserved spot in 8th place. The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps, the excitement palpable even through the thick barriers. Though she was much too far to challenge the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc in 7th, Michaela knew with that move she had made her statement.

The final laps were a blur of concentration, her eyes never straying from the road ahead. She crossed the line, her heart pounding in her chest as the cheers grew louder. The podium may have eluded her this time, but she had shown Ferrari that she was no mere junior driver to be overlooked.

The podium ceremony went ahead without her, the Mercedes duo of Valtteri and Lewis accompanied by the Red Bull of Max, took to spraying champagne and soaking in the applause. Meanwhile, in the pits, the Alfa Romeo mechanics were already debriefing, their heads bowed over data screens, their expressions a mix of pride and determination. The team knew she had given it everything she had.

Michaela climbed out of her car, the adrenaline wearing off to reveal the exhaustion that had been waiting in the metaphorical wings. She took off her helmet, her sweat-dampened hair sticking to her forehead and curling up from the heat. The TV cameras and journalists swarmed around her, eager to capture her reaction to the race. She took a deep breath, forcing a smile, and faced the barrage of questions on her trek back to the garage with the poise of a woman who had, in fact, spent her life in the spotlight.

"How does it feel to be back in the points?" One journalist shouted over the others.

Michaela paused, her smile wavering slightly. "It feels amazing," She said, her voice carrying over the business of the paddock. "But I'm not just here to collect points. I'm here to win." The words were a declaration of war, a challenge thrown down to Ferrari and everyone else who had ever doubted her. As she fielded more questions, her eyes caught sight of Olivier who stood tall amongst the unfamiliar faces.

Their gazes met briefly, his expression one of surprise, perhaps even a hint of admiration. But it was the way his eyes searched hers that had her stomach flipping. He had watched the race with the same intensity as everyone else, but she knew he had felt her struggle, her determination, her triumph. She knew he understood the weight of her words.

Michaela pushed through the media scramble, her heart racing faster than the car she had just stepped out of. She needed to talk to him, to explain everything, but she wasn't sure she had the words to bridge the growing gap between them. The garage was alive with noise and activity, but she found him amidst the chaos, his eyes still glued to the screens that replayed her daring move.

Olivier's face was a mask of professionalism, but she saw the flicker of pride in his gaze. He knew the significance of her performance today, not just for her but for the future of their relationship. She approached him, the noise of the paddock fading away as they stood face to face. "I didn't know you were coming," She said, trying to keep her voice steady. Instead of answering her right away, he drew her sweaty body into his.

The embrace was tight and warm, a welcome contrast to the coolness that had settled between them. "I had to see you," He murmured into her ear, his breath tickling the baby hairs on her neck. "You were incredible out there."

Michaela leaned into his arms, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "Thank you," She whispered, her voice cracking. "I needed to hear that."

Olivier pulled back, his expression honest. His Sky Sports windbreaker adorned his broad shoulders. "I know things have been tough for us, but you can't doubt yourself. You're one of the best drivers out there."

Michaela nodded, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill over. "But it's not just about being the best," she said. "It's about being in the right car, with the right team, and having the right support."

Olivier's grip on her tightened. "And you have that," he said firmly. "You've got me, you've got Travis, your family, and you've got a whole team behind you. That's what matters."

Michaela searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe that maybe she did have everything she needed. But the doubt remained, a stubborn shadow in the corner of her mind. "I don't know if that's enough," she confessed. "The McLaren offer is real, Olivier. And I can't ignore it."

He sighed, his grip loosening slightly. "I know," he said, his voice shallow with defeat. Michaela was aware he was biased, like most former drivers, to the allure of the Ferrari name. "But you have to do what's best for your career."

"And what about us?" She asked the question hanging in the air like the scent of burnt rubber from the track. Olivier looked away, his eyes darting around the garage before returning to hers.

"We'll figure it out," He said, but his voice lacked conviction. The words stung, but she knew she couldn't let her personal life sway her career choice. The Ferrari contract remained out of reach, and the McLaren offer grew more inviting with each passing moment.

Michaela turned away from Olivier, her mind racing. She knew she had to sit down with Guido and discuss the future. The decision was hers, and she couldn't let anyone else make it for her.

"Michaela, congratulations on a fantastic race," Guido's voice boomed over the background noise of the paddock as he approached her. His eyes were sharp, assessing the tension between her and Olivier. A perceptive man, he was more than aware of the tension between Michaela and her distant boyfriend. "Your performance today was exceptional."

Michaela nodded, her eyes never leaving Olivier's. "Thank you, Guido." Her voice was laced with a mix of exhaustion and determination. "Can we talk about the McLaren offer now?"

Guido looked from her to Olivier and back, sensing the unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, his expression shifting to one of professionalism. "Of course," he said, gesturing towards a quieter corner of the garage. "Let's get you out of the suit first."

Michaela nodded the weight of her decision momentarily forgotten as she allowed herself to be led away. She knew that she had to prioritize her career above all else, but the thought of leaving Ferrari, the team she had been groomed for, was like running away from the safety of the known.

Once in the relative quiet of the team's hospitality area, she peeled off her racing suit, revealing the sports bra and fireproofs beneath. The smell of the track clung to her, a mix of burning rubber, fuel, and victory. She took a deep breath and accepted the sports drink Guido offered to her while trying to steady her racing heart. Guido waited patiently, his eyes never leaving hers.

"McLaren is a serious offer," he began, his voice low and measured. "They're not just looking for a driver; they're looking for a star. You've got the potential to be that star, and they know it."

Michaela took a sip of the sports drink, the cool liquid soothing her dry throat. "But Ferrari is my dream," She said softly. "I've worked my entire life for this."

Guido's expression grew serious. "I know it's tough," He said. "But Ferrari's indecision is not a reflection of your talent. You've earned your place in this sport, and you can't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

Michaela nodded, the gravity of his words resonating within her. "What happens next?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Guido leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "We play hardball," He decided. "We tell Ferrari that you're exploring all options, and we let McLaren know that you're serious about the offer. It's time to make them realize that you're not just waiting around for a seat; you're actively pursuing your future."

Michaela nodded a newfound resolve setting in her features. "Alright," She responded, "Let's do it."

Guido set to work immediately, his fingers flying across his phone as he called in favors and set up meetings. Meanwhile, Olivier hovered in the background, his usual confidence replaced by a palpable uncertainty. The tension between them was as thick as the smoke that sometimes hung over the track.

Michaela took a moment to breathe, her thoughts racing as fast as the cars she'd just competed against. The idea of leaving Ferrari, the team she had grown up dreaming of, was heart-wrenching. But the opportunity to race for McLaren, a team on the rise with a proven track record of nurturing talent, was too good to pass up without serious consideration.

Her conversation with Guido was cut short by a sudden commotion in the garage. The team manager looked up from his phone, a flicker of concern crossing his features before they smoothed out into a mask of neutrality. "I'll handle this," he said, leaving her with a nod.

Michaela took a moment to collect herself, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of the Alfa Romeo livery. The thought of leaving Ferrari felt like a betrayal of her childhood dreams, but she knew that sometimes dreams had to evolve. She turned to find Olivier hovering awkwardly by the door. His eyes met hers, a silent question hanging in the air.

"We're going to play the field," she said, her voice firm. "Guido's going to talk to Ferrari and McLaren. We'll see who values me the most."

Olivier nodded, his eyes lingering on her. "But you know what you want, right?"

Michaela's gaze was unwavering. "I want to win," she replied. "And if Ferrari doesn't see that in me, then maybe it's time to move on."

Olivier nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of her words. He knew the Ferrari dream was a powerful one, but he also knew that she deserved to be in a car that could truly showcase her talents. The silence stretched between them, the echo of the race engines still resonating in the garage.

"Look, I'm sorry I haven't been more supportive," he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. "I know you're going through a lot right now, and I haven't been the best."

Michaela felt a pang of guilt for the fight earlier. She knew that Olivier was caught in the crossfire of her ambition and her need for validation. "It's okay," She replied, her own voice filled with a tired emotion. "It's just been a tough season."

Olivier stepped closer, his hand brushing hers briefly. "I'm here for you," he assured her. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

Michaela felt a wave of warmth at his words, but it was tempered by the doubt that still lingered. "Thank you," She said, her voice small. "But I can't promise that my decision will be easy for either of us."

Olivier nodded, the unspoken understanding hanging heavily in the air. They both knew that their relationship was on the line, that the glamour of F1 had a way of making the personal feel small and insignificant.

Michaela watched as Guido walked back towards her, his expression unreadable. The tension in the garage was palpable, and each team member was aware of the gravity of the situation. "Ferrari wants you to stay," he said, his voice low. "But they're not willing to make any promises for next season."

Her heart sank. "And McLaren?"

Guido's eyes held a flicker of excitement. "They're eager. They're willing to give you a multi-year contract, and they're confident that with the right support, you can lead them to a victory."

The prospect of being a team leader, of being valued and believed in, was honorable. But she couldn't ignore the pull of Ferrari, the team she had practically dedicated her life to. "What about my relationship with Ferrari?" She asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Guido's expression was a mix of empathy and business insight. "Ferrari is a legendary team," he acknowledged. "But they're also a business. Sometimes, you have to make decisions that are best for your career, even if it means leaving your dreams behind."

Michaela nodded the weight of his words sinking in. She knew that he was right, that she couldn't put her entire future in the hands of a team that wasn't ready to commit to her. But the thought of leaving the Ferrari family was like a knife to her heart.

Guido's phone buzzed, interrupting the tense silence. He checked the screen and his eyes lit up. "It's Zak Brown," He said, holding up the device. "He's ready to discuss the terms."

Michaela took a deep breath, her heart racing. This was it, the moment she had been working towards her entire career. The decision was hers to make, and it was a heavy burden to bear. She nodded at Guido, giving him the go-ahead.

Olivier stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the conflict in them, the love and the fear of losing her to the sport that had consumed her life. He knew the gravity of the situation, that her career was at a pivotal point, and that she couldn't afford to wait for Ferrari's indecision.

Michaela's mind raced as she took the phone from Guido. Her hand was slightly trembling as she answered the call. "Zak," She greeted, trying to keep her voice even. "Thank you for the offer."

Zak Brown's voice was enthusiastic on the other end. "Michaela, we've been watching you all season, and we're impressed. We believe you're the missing piece to our championship puzzle. How do you feel about joining us at McLaren?"

Michaela paused, her heart racing as the words sank in. The offer was everything she had ever wanted: a competitive car, a team that believed in her, and the chance to prove herself on the world stage. But it also meant leaving the familiarity of Alfa Romeo and the tantalizing closeness of Ferrari.

Olivier stepped aside, giving her space, but his eyes remained on her, a silent plea for her to choose what made her happy. He knew that her heart was torn between the safety net of Ferrari and the thrilling unknown of McLaren.

Michaela took a deep breath and spoke into the phone, her voice clear and determined. "Zak, I would be more than honored to join the team."

The call didn't last long after that, with Guido taking over to discuss the finer points of the contract. Meanwhile, Olivier remained a silent presence, his eyes never leaving hers. As she hung up, she could see the mix of emotions playing across his face: pride, fear, and a hint of sadness. As Guido discussed options for their next meeting, Michaela stepped closer to Olivier. She reached up to hold his face in her hands, their eyes exchanging words they weren't quite comfortable enough to say out loud in the middle of the garage.

"Look," She began, her voice tender. "I need to do this. For me."

Olivier nodded, his eyes searching hers for any trace of doubt. "I know," He said, his voice gruff with emotion. "But I'm afraid of losing you to this sport." His lips pressed into an uncertain line as they stood in silence for another beat more.

Michaela leaned in and kissed him gently, the smell of the track still on her skin. "You won't," She promised, hoping it was true. "I'll make it work."

Olivier's arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. "I believe in you," He murmured against her hair. "But I can't help but worry."

Michaela leaned into him, absorbing his warmth. "I know," She whispered. "But we'll find a way."

Guido cleared his throat, bringing them back to reality. "Michaela, we need to finalize the contract with McLaren," He reminded her, his voice firm but not unkind.

Michaela nodded, taking a step back from Olivier. "I know," she said, her voice steady. "Let's get it done."

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blog-moved-lol · 7 months ago

Text

Jason Todd Canon Lore Stuff:

@jashjdh Ask and you shall receive! :D this is sort of part 2 to this post of mine, where I did the same thing for Dick Grayson. Here, since there are so many comics and so much conflicting lore, I read the fandom . com entry for the character and then type out the most important bits of what I learned, both to help myself remember it, and to teach others ^w^

!TW for Batman-like things, such as spoilers, mentions of injury and death, a brief mentions of drug use, a brief mention of sewerslide and r(😬)e, etc)!

•To begin with, a lot of people argue "Jason is the angry Robin!" Or, "Jason ISN'T the angry Robin!" I think for the most part, this misunderstanding happens because originally, Jason was a very calm kid. In his original appearances he had a similar backstory to Dick Grayson(Being an acrobat in the circus) and was much more chill, however in the post-crisis revamp, he became more violent and troubled. In the words of the wiki, "the post-Crisis Jason is impulsive, reckless, and full of rage."

•Jason lived a troubled childhood, with his father being a petty crook. His dad at one point served a jail sentence for his crimes, but even once he got out of jail, he never came back to the family. This left Jason alone, taking care of his drug-addicted mother. He would rip and remove the parts from cars around the city, selling them for cash to make sure they were fed and clothed. His mother eventually died from an overdose so he took to the streets, continuing to take apart cars for cash.

•One night he came upon the Batmobile parked in an alleyway. Batman had just replaced the tires, but had not yet put on his new custom hubcaps. Jason took this opportunity to snag the tires, and managed to get one and out of there before he came back for a second tire. This is when Batman caught him, hence the iconic interaction of him throwing his tire iron at Bruce and calling him a 'big boob' as he ran away.

•Batman tried putting Jason in a boarding school for troubled kids, however this didn't work out either because the owner of the school was actually running a program to train young criminals. When Batman busted the criminal operation, he decided that perhaps Jason's anger could be used for crime fighting, so he took him in because he was worried that if he didn't, Jason would become a criminal. While Jason wasn't an acrobat like Dick, he was strong, and had lots of skills from his time on the streets.

•On their first official mission together, though, it was revealed that Two-Face had killed Jason's father. Despite the fact that Jason's father had abandoned him, he was still enraged by this and he went on a rampage. However, he showed restraint when he allowed Two-Face to be arrested instead of killing him, which made Bruce very proud.

•As much as Jason was a good, enthusiastic student, he was also a very troubled one. His time on the streets had raised him with a tilted sense of morals, and with the tendency to lash out and get violent when threatened because of his street survival instincts. Because of this, Jason often had the opposite ideals and morals to his mentor. He tended to use excessive force when trying to stop criminals, such as how in one adventure he was asked to 'hold off' some villains, and he immediately shot at them despite Bruce's dislike of using guns.

•The most notable of these times was on the case of Felipe Garzonasa, a man who had r(😬)ed a woman, an event that led to her sewerslide. Jason tracked this guy down, and moments after Jason arrived, Felipe fell to his death off of his apartment balcony. While it was never confirmed nor denied, it's fairly possible that Jason pushed Garzonasa off, breaking Batman's no kill rule. (We love a man who respects women ✊)

•Bruce was so afraid that Jason was going to possibly kill someone, either intentionally or with his reckless actions, that he called Barbara Gordon and asked her to work a case with Jason, in an attempt to figure him out. They did work together, however Barbara could come up with no real way to help him, and simply warned Bruce that there was 'a darkness in Jason'.

•Jason eventually discovers that his mother was not actually his biological mother, so he runs away from home on a mission to find his real mom. He follows lots of leads, but eventually ends up in Ethiopia, finding his bio mother Sheila, working as an aid worker. He's incredibly happy to be reunited with his real mom, but he soon discovers that Sheila is being blackmailed by the Joker, being forced to supply him with medical treatment. Sheila herself has been embezzling funds from the agency, and to keep from getting caught, she directly hands Jason over to the Joker who brutally beats him with a crowbar and leaves him and Sheila in a warehouse with a bomb. Batman is unable to save them on time, and both of them perish in the explosion. Bruce is obviously devastated (and starts going crazy because of this a bit later on), and the bodies are both buried in Gotham City with the cause of death on Jason's death certificate being labeled 'smoke inhalation'.

•Jason is dead for at least a decade, his memory constantly haunting Bruce as his 'greatest failure', keeping Jason's Robin suit on display in the Batcave. Bruce begins to spiral over the thoughts that he himself had failed to train Jason properly, and that he had also failed to save Jason from the Joker. (Personal opinion, I don't know if I actually blame Bruce for 'Not saving Jason in time'? Because the way the wiki framed it, it made it seem like Jason ran away and didn't tell anyone that he was going to do this, plus I don't know how Bruce would've known that the Joker was blackmailing Sheila to begin with? Idk, maybe I'm missing some context here)

•Many years later, while Bruce is fighting with Hush, Tim gets kidnapped. When he confront the kidnapped it ends up being 'Jason', but it turns out that this version of Jason isn't Jason at all, and is just Clayface pretending to be Jason.

•Superboy-Prime, trapped in the Paradise Dimension, alters reality. This shift results in Jason's revival, as he's once again given life. He breaks his way out of his own coffin with his bare hands, and drags himself 12 miles before eventually collapsing (since he still has many lasting injuries from the Joker's beating). He's found at some point and hospitalized, where he stays in a coma for a full year, and even when he awakens he has amnesia. At some point he's recognized by a petty criminal, who informs Talia. Talia brings him to the Lazarus Pit, where she immerses him in the water where her father Ra's is also bathing. This restores Jason's memories and his physical health, however it's implied that the Pit's energy + Ah-Gul's energy messed with his mind and personality (Though it's always possible that these changes really just came from his trauma)

•Jason Todd takes up the mantle of Red Hood, and returns to Gotham City.

•Jason goes to find the Joker (who had been run out of town by Hush), and gives him a beating with a crowbar just as the Joker did to him, though he keeps the Joker alive to use him against Batman later on. He also assumes the control of several gangs, and starts a mini war against the Black Mask criminal empire. His general plan is to clean up the cities violence and drug dealings(probably because he doesn't want anyone to end up like his non-bio mother), as well as kill the Joker for revenge. Because of his intense and violent methods, he has many brushes with Batman. It's around this time that Bruce finds a Robin mask in the Batmobile, one that never belonged to Dick or Tim, but looked like a mask in the style of Jason's old Robin costume. He also realized at this time that Jason's coffin is empty, and that's when he starts to believe that Jason may have genuinely come back from the dead.

•Jason, hearing that Tim had replaced him and was supposedly a 'better Robin' then him, he got angry and broke into the Titan tower to confront him. Wearing a newer version of his own Robin costume, Jason makes quick work of immobilizing the other Titans. He was absolutely furious that there was no memorial for him in the Hall of Fallen Titans (Despite the fact that he was only a Titan for a very short time), Jason demands Tim tell him if he was really as good of a Robin as Jason himself was, and Tim stubbornly says 'Yes' before he passes out. As Jason is leaving the tower, he rips the 'R' logo from Tim's costume. However, it's revealed in the epilogue of that comic that Jason actually holds some respect for Tim now, begrudgingly saying an "I'll admit. He's good." As he ponders how he could've been a better Robin had he acted more like Tim.

•At some point Jason kidnaps the Joker and uses him to lure Bruce to Crime Alley, where they had first met all those years ago. Jason is of course angry that Bruce never 'properly avenged' him by killing the Joker, since Jason believed that Bruce would because the Joker had "Taken me away from you". Bruce explains that it would've been easy for him to kill the Joker, that he continuously fantasized about taking the Joker away, torturing him and eventually killing him, but that he wasn't willing to cross that line (Partially because he wasn't willing to stain the memories he had of Jason [that he clung so tightly to while losing his sanity] with blood). Jason decides on a deal. Either Bruce kills him, or he will kill the Joker. So he holds one gun to the Joker's head and gives the other to Bruce, counting to three. However Bruce, obviously not wanting to kill Jason but also not wanting Jason to commit this crime, uses a Batarang to cut down an object that ends up slicing Jason's throat. The Joker uses this time to detonate some explosives and plunge both of them into the waters. (I don't even know what to say about this part, I have a lot of opinions here. I will say though, I think that if Tim hadn't become Robin, Bruce might've legitimately killed the Joker.)

•Jason shows up again after about a year, now as an evil version of Nightwing. Jason uses this costume to taunt Dick, suggesting the two become a crime fighting team, but Dick refuses because he doesn't want to be associated with Jason's violent methods. Not long after, Jason is kidnapped by unknown mobsters. Dick, albeit hesitantly, saves him, and they team up to defeat the Pierce brothers. After the fight Jason leaves New York and drops the Nightwing mantle, leaving Dick a telegraph that says he has returned to normal, and that he still considers Dick family.

•Jason's kidnaps a girl named Mia, wanting to convert her to his side since they both had somewhat similar pasts and he feels they're kindred spirits. She refuses, so he blows up her high school. (WTF JASON???? 😭)

•I dunno how to explain this one too much, but basically he went on a mission with a Monitor that he called Bob? And he met an alternate reality version of Batman, who had started killing after Jason's death.. And then the Darkseid thing happens and Batman 'dies', which makes Jason absolutely furious (Because he cares about Bruce despite not agreeing with the way that he handled things back when he died).

•Jason, back as Red Hood, tries to take control of some gang wars to calm things down, but it actually makes things worse. Since Batman is supposed to be dead, and Nightwing is unavailable, Tim is the one who has to help clean up the mess. Jason asks to team up, but Tim refuses because of Jason's questionable methods. Due to a combination of some things, Jason gets shot in the leg and arrested. When the gang war is resolved, Tim stops by the prison Jason was in, using a disguise and a fake name to deliver Jason the code that will let him out of his cell because he believes Jason deserves a chance at redemption.

•After his escape Jason is summoned to the Batcave, where he is brought in to hear his part of Bruce's Last Will and Testament for him(Y'know, since Bruce is supposedly dead lmao). He listens to Bruce's final piece as he talks about out of all his failures, Jason was his biggest, and how he regretted not getting Jason actual help or showing much empathy over him hardships, instead dressing him up and having him fight. Unfortunately this heartfelt message is what makes Jason fully snap.

•Jason began dressing up in a Batman-like outfit, leaving slips of paper saying 'I AM BATMAN' where he worked, however he used much more aggressive and lethal forms of punishment on the criminals he fought. Due to the violent nature of his vigilantism, Nightwing and Damian are after the fake Batman. Dick figures put pretty quickly that the imposter Batman is Jason, and after an argument, Jason shoots Damian. Tim is also searching for the fake Batman at this time, dressing up as Batman as well to demonstrate how Bruce would've really acted. Tim finds Jason's fake Batcave, but has to be saved from a boobytrap by Catwoman. Jason returns to his 'cave' and finds them there, impaling Tim with a Batarang. Dick and Jason fight, with Jason thinking and claiming that Tim is dead, while Damian and the Squire are actually busy saving Tim. Dick kicks Jason off a moving train, but when he tries to pull Jason back up to safety(Because he still considers him family, just as Jason does him), Jason refuses his help and falls to his 'death', while claiming they'll meet again soon. This is when Dick becomes Batman.

•When Jason returned, having survived the fall, he decided to become direct competition to Batman and Robin, making it his mission to get to all of the criminals before them and become the new Gotham Hero. He even got his own sidekick, a girl named Scarlet. Jason was very public about this, posting things on social media, talking about how killing the villains was the best way to do it, and a lot of people actually agreed. At one point Jason kidnapped Dick and Damian, locked them up and stripped them both naked(😰), claiming online that if the post got enough attention, he'd reveal Batman and Robin's secret identities. However his plan was interrupted by an assassin names Flamingo, that he and Scarlet weren't strong enough to beat. Dick and Damian escaped and saved them from death, though Damian got pretty seriously injured.. Jason just ran Flamingo over with a truck- Jason was taken into police custody and as they took him away, he claimed that if the Lazarus Pit could revive him, why couldn't it revive Bruce too?

•After Bruce's revival, Jason files an appeal to Arkham Asylum, wanting to be released because the tests show that he's perfectly sane, just willing to kill. He ends up being transferred to a Gotham prison, where as soon as he arrives, the sewerslide rates spike and there are several homicides(Though these mainly occurred in self defense from Red Hood killing people in the prison who attempt to kill him first). On top of this, Jason poisons the food and kills 82 inmates, making 100 more sick. He's immediately taken back to Arkham Asylum, but is quickly broken out by some mercenaries. Jason breaks free from the mercenaries and fights them off as Batman and Robin arrive. At the end of this mission, Red Hood and Scarlet escape in a helicopter, warning Bruce and Damian not to chase them because he planted bombs all over the city months ago, and he's willing to detonate them. Dick doesn't do anything about, deciding that Jason was lying about the bombs, and that even if Jason decides to do better he'll only rejoin the family when he's ready to.

•Jason, trying to reform, forms his own hero team called the Outlaws. He changes the red symbol on his chest to a bat, a sign of his somewhat awkward but slowly-beginning-to get-back-on even-ground relationship with the Batfamily. The costume he now wears also used to belong to Dick. His relationship with Tim is now at least neutral, if not a little friendly, as the two can be seen eating together and making some jokes. However his relationship with Bruce is still strained, and a bit hostile. While he keeps his aggressive and lethal style of fighting, he now only uses it when he believes necessary, and doesn't always shoot the second he sees a problem.

•At some point his team disappears, and he goes back to being a solo hero.

Extra Fun Fact! Because of the Lazarus Pit, Jason no longer ages and he heals much much faster then a normal human!

TAADAA! I might do more if I get the motivation ^w^

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