#this is what i would do if i was a millionaire

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 3 (gravity falls g/t)

omgggggg i'm still doing this! i actually have so much written! i didn't think i'd get this far but i just can't stop. enjoy!

parts 1 and 2!

-------------------------

“Alright, shorty, where does this go?”

“Right there. In the – yeah, that one.”

“Are you sure? This doesn’t look right.”

“How would you possibly know what looks right?”

“Don’t question me! I can look at a picture and know what it’s supposed to be!”

“Diagram. It’s a diagram.”

“Psh. Whatever. S’just a word to make dumb nerds seem smarter than the rest of us.” 

“Pretty sure Ford is smarter than the rest of us.”

That’s how pretty much every conversation had gone today.

The first couple of days weren’t too bad, though it was mostly spent by Stan working on something alone until he remembered Jay was there. Sometimes, he would disappear into the portal room for hours, trying to get it back on by sheer willpower.

Now, it was day five – no, six – seven? – of the portal reactivation effort, and if Jay had to put a number on it, she’d say zero progress had been made. She was trying her best to honor this truce of sorts that they made, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the days went on, especially the ways he’d mock their size difference. 

“Hey, hand me those pliers, won’tcha?” he would say, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Or he’d be sitting on the floor and pretend he couldn’t reach the table when he needed something. More than once, Jay threatened to drop something on his head, but that just seemed to make him laugh even harder. 

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just teasing you, tiny,” he would say, feigning innocence, and then he’d give her a hearty poke in the back and she’d stumble forward, often half-falling and needing her hands to stop her momentum. “Don’t take it so personal!”

“Easy for you to say,” she’d mumble, rubbing whatever part of her body was now sore.

“Take it from me, kid. When life punches you, you gotta punch back. Don’t be such a pushover.”

It was almost like he was giving advice to himself as much as he was lecturing Jay. She didn’t need to be told how to survive, least of all by a giant. 

Jay tried to keep her distance, offering up nuggets of wisdom where she could, but Stan was mostly dismissive of anything she had to say. 

Until she actually figured something out.

He was mindlessly flipping through the journal one day when he suddenly stormed off, presumably to find a soda, or something a little stronger. Curious as to what got him so mad, Jay trotted over to the open journal and ambled onto the page, setting her hands on her hips as she read over the impossibly large display.

Jay’s eyes scanned the page dutifully, trying to pick up the little things she learned from Ford. He had shown her that equations that seemed like a random amalgamation of letters, numbers and squiggles actually had meaning when you knew what stood for what.

That’s when she spotted it. It was a large, red W – something Ford called the “weirdness coefficient.” She didn’t know exactly what it was used for, but she actually recognized the string of data that succeeded it. She followed it along, running across the page a few times to get it all in her head. She was so distracted that she never noticed Stanley enter the room, drink in hand. The loud cracking of the can’s tab snapped her back to reality. 

“Ew,” Stan said, eyeing her with suspicion as he sat down. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“No! Don’t sit! You’ve gotta help me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think I figured something out.”

Stan nearly spit out his drink. “You? Figuring something out? Hah, sure, and I’m a millionaire.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jay retorted. “It’s not like you’ve done anything.”

“It’s only been a couple of days, squirt. I’m just gettin’ started.”

Jay rolled her eyes. Stan’s machismo attitude was really unmatched. “Okay, well, can you hear me out on this one?” Stan took a long sip of his soda, then nodded. “Okay, you see this here? This big W? That’s the weirdness coefficient. It’s supposed to account for the average amount of weirdness – or, anomalies – that can leak through to this dimension at any given time. So this equation here, it stipulates the maximum amount of W – weirdness – that can be allowed through P, or the portal. So, we have to make sure the leakage output doesn’t exceed this number here.” She pointed to a bold number circled in red, looking up at Stan, a little winded from all the talking. 

Stan blinked. “I have no idea what you just said.”

She groaned. “It means we have to input this number,” she tapped it again for good measure, “into that machine over there.”

Stan squinted at her tiny arm pointing outward, trying to hide his amused smile. He turned around, then turned back. “How do you know that’s the right one?”

“I just know. I saw Ford using it a million times.”

“What if you’re wrong and we blow up the place?”

“Hey, if you don’t trust me, you can just say you don’t trust me.”

“Alright. I don’t trust you.”

“Okay, you weren’t actually supposed to say it,” Jay said, crossing her arms. “Come on! How can we work together if you won’t listen to me?”

Stan tapped his chin. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. “You bring up a valid point.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Now, could you put the number in?”

For the slightest moment, Stan hesitated. The inflection in her voice, and the authoritative way in which she spoke, sounded so much like Ford that it almost made him scream. Yes, yes, I know might as well have been his catchphrase. Stan tried really, really hard not to think about it, but for a nanosecond, his mind was filled with so much pain at the reminder of this little person spending so much time with Ford that she picked up on his speaking patterns that it made him want to curl up his fist and –

He stopped. Come on, Stan, you need her. You know you do. The sooner Ford is back, the sooner you’ll never have to see her again.

“Where am I putting it in, short stuff?” he finally asked. Jay tried to point him in the right direction, but even when he found the right knobs, he didn’t know how to do it correctly.

“Ugh, why don’t you just do it?” Stan sighed angrily.

Jay furrowed her brow. “This again? Are you serious?”

“Don't think this doesn't hurt my ego. But the only thing worse than having you do it is listening to you squeak about it,” Stan grumbled. “Now, c’mon, just do this so we can move on.”

Jay nervously laughed. He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Stanley, I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly walk over there and start pressing buttons.”

“What, I thought you wanted to be all self-sufficient? And didn’t you say you were good at climbing?”

Jay clenched her jaw. Maybe telling him little things about borrower life wasn't such a good idea. “Well, yeah, but I don’t – that would take a while, and I don’t think you want to wait. So just, listen, you just have to–”

“Nope! Not this again,” Stan declared. He took a few steps toward her and was now looming over her, hand twitching. She knew what he was about to do, but was powerless to stop it.

“Be – careful!” she yelped. She felt her arm bend uncomfortably against her body as Stan stuck his hand underneath her and lifted her into the air. She shut her eyes tight as the pressure in her head mounted. Even when they stopped moving, it didn’t feel like it.

Stan stared intently, wondering why she wasn’t moving. “Uh. You okay?”

His booming voice only made her ears ring more. It had to be 30 full seconds before she finally felt centered again. Her stomach dropped when she opened her eyes and saw just how far the ground was. Sure, she had been up higher, but the anxiety of sitting in Stan’s hand only exacerbated her unease. She never even felt 100% secure in Ford’s hand, given the way he would sometimes forget she was there. Fidds was the only one she felt remotely comfortable holding her.

“Tiny? Hello?” Stan shook his hand a bit, as if the issue was that she forgot where she was. He felt the tiniest of pressures as she pushed her palms into his, and he immediately stopped moving. Oh.

“Please – move slower,” she croaked, not even bothering to look up at him. “And don’t just pick me up without asking.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit dismissive. Truthfully, he was fully aware and then some about what he just did, but he didn’t want to admit that he probably fucked up. He walked the few steps over to where the control console was and stuck his arm out, holding her out in front like a platform.

“Okay, short stack. Just tell me where to move you.”

“The row of five switches with the red light up there.” Stan pointed to confirm, and she nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

She should have prepared for how fast he was going to move, but it still caught her off guard. She wanted to yell at him for not listening, but getting fresh with a giant while she was in their hand was not something she was interested in.

Stan chuckled in amusement at how much effort it took her to turn the knob, and it turned to a full-blown laugh at the way she couldn’t push one of the switches back up.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” she huffed, clearly exhausted.

“Oh, yes,” Stan grinned. “Extremely.”

“Just – flick it yourself, please,” she sighed, plopping down in his palm. His hand reflexively twitched at the movements, and he shot her a brief look. Man, she actually looks beat from that.

“Fine, fine. Let the big guy show you how it’s done,” Stan said with that smarmy smile. Jay watched incredulously at the way his arm seemed to stretch on forever from his body to the panel. It hung over her like a heavy barrier; something her weight wouldn’t even register against. He could swing his arm and knock her off his hand and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

It was even worse watching him flick the switch with ease. Sure, she had watched Ford and Fidds do crazy human things all the time, but something about the way Stan did it was different. It was almost… taunting.

“There. Now what?”

“Well, if I’m right, it should–”

Suddenly, she couldn’t speak. It was as if her entire body was frozen. A dull sensation reverberated through her, and then, pain. A loud popping sound zapped her ears and she fell backwards, landing hard on her butt, her head ringing, her body aching.

“Woah!” Stan shouted, flinching back. A small spark jumped out from the panel, but he narrowly avoided it. “Was that supposed to–” he started, but stopped. She wasn't moving. Again.

“Hey, tiny, you alright?” Nothing. “Kid?” Still nothing. She was definitely breathing, but seemed to be in a lot of pain. “Jay, you okay?”

She grit her teeth, trying to usher the pain out of her body. Luckily, it melted away after a few seconds, and even though her head was spinning, she was alright. It was no worse than being whipped around on Stan’s hand, anyway.

“I’m fine,” she finally said, though her voice almost sounded like it was glitching. She took another moment to recompose herself. “Guess it didn’t work.”

Stan almost forgot to respond. “I don’t even know what it was supposed to do.”

“It was supposed to – once you put in the W maximum, it should have calibrated a couple other systems. Thing must be fried after the portal was turned on.”

“Oh,” Stan said, pretending to understand. “So, how do we fix it?”

“I – don’t know,” Jay admitted. “I’ve never been inside there before. Not really sure what to do with the wires.”

Stan hummed, unsure of where to go from here. This was the most tangible progress they had made since forming this unlikely alliance, and it got them nowhere.

“Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better… good job.” Jay winced at the way he sounded like the words were being tortured out of him. “Figuring this thing out, I mean.”

“I got it,” Jay said, a small smile forming on her lips. Why did that compliment make her feel so… warm? “Thanks, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t be expecting any more compliments from me,” he shot back, though there was no bite to it. “Don’t want you going soft on me.”

“Psh. Never in a million years,” Jay teased.

To her surprise, Stan set her down slowly on the table before burying his head back in the journal. He was only half-reading it, though, because he couldn’t get his mind off Jay. It was so contradictory – every time she did something impressive, like spout mathematical nonsense she had no business knowing, she would be rendered immobile by a slight altitude change or a small electric shock. She was so much more fragile than he thought. It was beginning to dawn on him that he actually did have to be careful, or else he might accidentally kill her. He shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t be so reckless when it came to someone’s entire life. 

Not again.

Ever since then, he seemed to care a little bit more about her opinion, which confused Jay to no end, but she didn’t complain. Even if he was invasive and had no regard for her personal space, he seemed to have a... gentler air about him. Like he was trying more.

But it didn’t always show, especially when he got frustrated. They were rapidly approaching that territory right now.

“I think the red wire has to connect to the other end,” she said, glancing at the journal. “No, not that one, the other one! Right there – you keep missing it!”

Stan clenched his teeth. He was getting tired of being bossed around. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you come do it?”

Jay felt her blood boil. “I hate when you say that.”

Stan grinned wildly. “I know.”

“Ugh.” Jay flopped on her back. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“We? You’re not even doin’ anything.” Stan abandoned his rewiring effort and joined Jay at the table. “Maybe you’re reading this thing wrong.” He grabbed the journal and pulled it to him, taking Jay along with it. She yelped and held on tight as she was moved at a blinding speed from one side of the table to the other.

“C’mon, get off,” Stan began to shoo her away like a fly, and Jay quickly jumped off the book. “I gotta look at this thing.”

Jay stumbled when she landed, staring up at Stan with a disapproving look until she gave up trying to telegraph her annoyance. The worst part was he didn’t ignoring her maliciously; he genuinely didn’t care that she was there. She swallowed, her unease growing at the extended silence as Stan scanned the journal. She had been in close physical proximity to him for basically a week now, and it was unnerving. She had no idea what he was ever going to do, and the only thing stopping him from picking her up all the time was that she grossed him out. But that didn’t feel like a strong enough motivator to stop him from swiping her clean off the table if he got mad enough.

“Ugh, what am I missing?” Stan groaned. He tilted his head, along with the journal, trying to find some hidden message.

Jay marveled at the way he so easily swung the book around. “I don’t think you’re missing anything. There’s only so many ways to read it.”

“C’mon, short stack, you hung out with my know-it-all brother more than any female ever has. You gotta know something. What about these…” he narrowed his eyes, “weird secret codes?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried my best with those, but I don’t think I know enough to figure them out.”

“I’ll say,” Stan mumbled under his breath. Jay heard it, but chose to ignore it.

Stan took a moment to think. Maybe I should go to the library and find a book about this or somethin’. Hah, now I’m really thinking like Ford. But the last thing he wanted was to go into town. There had to be an answer in the journal somewhere. Where there’s a test, there’s always an answer sheet.

But first, he was going to do it his way.

“I’m gonna go shove the lever around again,” Stan announced, grabbing the tool box and disappearing into the portal room. Jay knew it was a futile effort, so while Stan got himself needlessly tired, she would go back to working on her secret project — the new hook that would buy her freedom. 

At best, Stan was tolerable, and being at his mercy was giving her increasing amounts of anxiety. If she couldn’t go back for the contraptions that Fidds made her, she’d just have to do it the old fashioned way. But she only went to work when Stan was asleep or in the portal room. There was no way he could know about this.

Jay had been relegated to sleeping on the table while Stan was here. He had only gone upstairs to get food and drinks, often falling asleep right on the table and getting back to work when his own snores jolted him awake.

Thankfully, there was plenty of material to work with. Not so thankfully, none of it was a rope and a paper clip. She had already fashioned two hooks out of sharp pieces of metal, so her next step was either finding something long enough to lower her to the ground or tying a bunch of short but sturdy things together. Even a parachute could work at this rate.

Her mind flashed back to times with Ford, when they would test out her physics with paper hang gliders and makeshift obstacle courses out of rulers and tape dispensers. He went through a phase of trying to see how far a fall she could take before hurting herself, but that only lasted a week before Jay made him drop the subject. His final conclusion? “Very far.”

Evidently, though, she got too into tinkering, because she didn’t even notice when Stan walked back into the room, jacket shed and face sweaty from all the work. He watched her curiously, trying to see what exactly she was doing. Maybe she just messes with metal like it’s a toy or something. She was working on sharpening her hooks and finding heavy enough things to wrap them around when Stan cleared his throat, and she nearly shot 500 feet in the air.

“What’re you doing?” Stan asked.

“Nothing!” Jay squeaked. “I mean, not nothing nothing, I’m just – it’s –”

But Stan was no longer interested in her ramblings. He reached down and carefully pinched one of the metal hooks between his fingers, ripping it right out of her hands.

“HEY!” she yelled, but to no avail. Even if she could fight him for it, it wouldn’t have mattered, because her legs turned to jelly and her arms became numb the moment his massive fingers came next to her, filling her entire body with a sense of dread. She quickly let go to avoid being pulled up into the air.

“What is this…?” Stan turned the object, observing it intently, marveling at just how damn small it was. Jay felt sick at how miniscule her only path to freedom looked between Stan’s fingers. 

“It’s nothing! Give it back!” she tried, but one glance from Stan promptly shut her up and even pushed her back a few steps. God, he’s so far away.

“Huh… you made this?” he asked, holding it out to her. She just shrugged, unwilling to answer.

Stan wouldn’t have been suspicious otherwise, but he had spent the better part of his life either around criminals or being the criminal. He knew what guilt looked like. He also knew a bad liar when he saw one. He just couldn’t figure out what she was trying to hide.

Not at first, anyway.

He tried to think: if he was that tiny, what would he need something like this for? It certainly wasn’t for fixing the portal, so what was it for? Fun? Stan didn’t know what was so fun about bent metal. Maybe she was just bored? Then there was no reason for her to act so suspicious. She would have just said so.

Then it hit him. What’s the one thing she wanted more than anything, besides getting Ford back? To be left alone. And it wasn’t like she could just walk out of the room whenever she wanted.

She had been looking for an escape since Stan found her. She was manufacturing a way out.

Stan ahh’d in realization, and the way Jay’s face went pale was all the confirmation he needed. 

“Not sure how you were planning to escape with this, and I admire the effort. Really! But you can’t hustle a hustler, kid.”

Jay didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. Her heart was pounding, her breathing labored. She had no clue what was coming next.

“Look, if you don’t wanna be here, I won’t stop you. In case you haven't noticed, I’m not running a charity here. I’m trying to get my brother back, and I can’t seem to figure out if that’s really what you want or not.” He callously tossed the metal back to her, and she scrambled out of the way as it clanged a few inches from her. “So scram, alright? Get outta here.”

Jay blinked. He was… really going to let her go like that? She didn’t believe him. Humans didn’t do that. They never did. They’d always be back.

But that part didn’t even matter, because she did want Ford back. Even with the threat of opening the portal, she wanted her best friend back more than anything. She just really, really hated working with his irritating brother, and she didn’t know how to deal with him. The only people she had ever dealt with this closely were Ford and Fidds. She wasn’t used to anything else. She couldn't handle anything else.

“I’m – I’m not trying to – to leave,” Jay stammered. God, that sounded so pathetic. “I just – need some freedom, that’s all.”

A light went off in Stan’s head. “You can’t leave, can you?”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Of course I can leave–”

“No, not this room, this house. You don’t want to leave here. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”

“I–” Jay started, but she had no words. He was right. He was right, damn it! He saw her as this helpless little thing, and he was right.

“Huh, so the squirt that thinks she’s better than me needs me to keep her safe. Right?”

“I don’t – I don’t think I’m better than you!” Jay said, but it didn’t sound convincing. And she didn’t even try and dispute the other point.

Stan’s face scrunched up. “Huh, you sure act like it. Well, squirt, you may need me, but I don’t need you. If you disappeared right now, I wouldn’t waste my energy lookin’ for you, because I’m the one who actually cares about fixing this damn thing and saving Ford!”

Jay knew fighting back would be a bad idea. It had never, ever worked before. But she couldn’t take the constant antagonizing. She just couldn’t.

“Stop acting like I don’t want him back, either!” Jay blurted. Stan looked at her in surprise, but it was too late. The floodgates were open. She was tired of hearing this. “It’s just – it’s dangerous! And there’s only so much I can do!”

“Yeah, and you do a pretty terrible job! Half the time you sit there and mock me for not knowing the “difference” between a picture and a diagram! And there isn’t even a difference!”

“There is!”

“See! You’re just like Ford, always talking down to me, acting like I’m just some – bumbling idiot who can’t possibly be on his level.”

“That’s not true!” Jay asserted. “I don’t think you’re an idiot!”

“Well you certainly fooled me!”

“You’re just – so stubborn!” Jay was nearing the edge of the table now. “You ask for my help, and yet you can’t even fathom that I would know something you don’t!”

“Maybe I’d listen to you more if you weren’t so damn tiny! I’m taking orders from someone who can’t even walk up the stairs by herself!”

Jay’s eyes widened in shock. Oh, so that was it. Of course it was. How could she think it was anything else? Her heart was racing now, her stomach churning. How could she respond? Why did she ever think she could fight a giant?

“And you act like you’re so much better because you were best friends with him,” Stan sneered, placing particular mocking emphasis on that part. “He’s MY brother! MY family! He probably only talked to you because you’re – weird and small and he felt bad! You’re just a thing, an experiment for him to get all excited about! He never cared about you!”

Jay knew responding would be a bad idea, but her lips moved faster than her brain. “Oh yeah? He didn’t even want to think about you! I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up here! Maybe if you weren’t such a lazy freeloader, he would–”

It was at that moment her life flashed before her eyes.

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 6

Masterlist - Previous - Next

The Heartbreak Prince

23 April 2023:

"She’s gorgeous. Look at this beautiful girl." Pascale Leclerc cooed at her granddaughter, eyes full of love.

"She really is. And she’s so small… like a little doll." Charles smiled, watching his mother cradling his daughter to her chest, when his phone rang "That’s Fred. I have to take it."

"It’s okay, don’t worry, I’ll stay here with my beautiful, little girl." his mother said, not looking up from the bundle of joy in her arms.

Charles walked outside, accepting the call.

"Fred…"

"I got your text earlier. Congrats Charles, mother and daughter both okay?" his team principal asked.

"Yeah. Both healthy."

"That’s good. Really good. And the rest- umm… everything arranged?"

"Yeah. It’s been taken care of." Charles sighed.

"Good, good… I really don’t like to do this Charles- but I have to ask. Will

you race in Baku? I would understand if you didn’t want to… but- well it’s Baku. You always been quite good there, so I think… maybe…" Fred stuttered a little, as a father himself, he knew what he asked of his young driver.

"No. I have to… I said I would do everything in my power to be able to do both. Race and be a good father…" Charles replied, although he honestly didn’t want to leave his precious girl behind.

"You don’t have to come with everyone else, be here on the 27th, for media day, that’s fine…" his Team Principal suggested and he nodded slowly.

"Thanks Fred, see you in Baku."

"See you in Baku…"

Charles pocketed his phone, leaning against the wall when the door to the hospital room opened, his mother looking outside.

"You need to feed her, come on in…" she smiled at her son and Charles pushed himself off the wall, following her back in.

The gorgeous baby girl scrambled in the little crib, soft cries leaving her.

"Here, it’s warm. Take her and sit down…" his mother instructed him and he did as told.

After a couple of minutes a comfortable silence fell over the room. Only the newborn’s tiny sounds while eagerly suckling on the bottle were to be heard.

Charles eyes were full of love and adoration for the tiny human being in his arms, to think he would only have 4 days until he had to leave his little girl for the first time hurt him beyond belief. But he knew that he made a promise. He would do everything to give his daughter the best life possible.

"It’s just you and me, mon ange… just you and me, but I promise you, I will do everything to keep you safe, keep you happy." Charles leaned down to gently kiss his little girls forehead "I love you, my beautiful Ava."

"And this will be your room, I mean, when you’re a little older of course. I know, it’s nothing special. It needs colour, decoration, maybe even different furniture… but I wanted to have the nursery ready before you were born… we change that, don’t worry, pretty girl." Charles cradled his daughter to his chest, standing in the middle of the plain, white nursery. It looked sterile. Cold. He knew it. He just didn’t have the time to change it until now "You’ll sleep in my bedroom for now anyways… here, I show you…" he walked outside the nursery, down the hallway, through the door at the end "This is where we sleep, how do you like it?" he looked down at the sleepy baby girl, chuckling "It’s not like you’re going to answer, right? I guess your silence means you love it…"

"I hate it, I want my own bedroom, daddy!" Joris' high pitched voice behind him made Charles roll his eyes "I thought you’re a millionaire, why do we have to share a room?"

"Ha-ha, very funny…" the Ferrari driver turned around, glaring at his best friend "Before she’ll move into her nursery, I need to make it homely first. Worthy of my little princess." his eyes softened as soon as he looked back down into the baby’s face.

"You still got time, don’t worry. For now, you should enjoy the next couple of days with her, before leaving for Baku…"

"I can’t believe that I’m saying that, but I don’t want to race, I want to stay here with her, I don’t want to miss anything she’s learning, or doing for the first time!" the new father sighed.

"I know. But let’s face it, Ava is only 3 days old, she won’t do much besides sleeping and pooping…" Joris shrugged his shoulders.

"Watch it, Trouche, or I’m rethinking my choice of making you her godfather." Charles turned slightly, smiling at his best friend.

"Wha-… are you-… are you serious? M- me? Godfather?" he stumbled over his own words, eyes wide as he stared at the young father with his daughter in front of him.

"I’m serious, yeah… I mean, obviously only if you wa-…"

"Yes! YES! Of course! I just… I didn’t think you would choose me? Lorenzo? Or Arthur… but… wow. WOW!" Joris stepped closer, looking at the little angel in her father’s arms, his goddaughter "My beautiful Ava. I will try to be the best godfather, I promise!"

"And you know what? One of your first duties is to help me change her diaper… I did it the last days with maman’s or a nurses help… but now… I’m scared…"

"I mean, how hard can it be?" Joris chuckled and followed Charles to the changing table, where he gently laid down his little bundle of joy.

"Yeah, shouldn’t be that big of a problem." the new dad shrugged.

It was a problem. A big problem. And when ten minutes later the little girl was all fresh and dressed up, both young men slid down on the floor, leaning against the bed and drawer.

"I will have nightmares of this- this experience…" Joris mumbled and Charles nodded slowly.

"How can this precious, sweet little thing create such an atrocity?" he looked down at his daughter, who dozed off already, letting out the sweetest sounds.

"And now look at her! All cute and adorable!" Joris smiled and his best friend scooted over a little.

"Do you want to hold her?" he asked and looked at him.

"Umm-… sure. But you have to show me, I never held a baby that little!"

"I’ll show you, don’t worry…" Charles replied and showed Joris exactly how to held his little baby girl.

"Oh wow… oh wow… she’s so tiny…" Joris mumbled, looking at his goddaughter "She’s so cute…"

"She is perfect… I know that it won’t be easy, being here for her, taking care of her. My career. Keeping her safe from my crazy life. The media. My fans. I know the next months, maybe years will be pretty tough… but when I look at her? I just know it all will be worth it." Charles almost whispered, his gaze softening.

"I think you’re right… I mean, just look at her…" Joris replied, gently taking Ava’s hand in his much bigger one, inspecting her tiny fingers.

"I know this all was unusual. A drunk one night stand. Hiding her mother away from everyone. Keeping her a secret? But I would do it all over again, just to have her…"

Joris looked up at Charles, smiling at the way how his best friend’s soft gaze lingered on his baby girl. A content smile on his lips. His eyes full of love. He always knew that Charles would be an amazing father one day, the way he treated his little fans a clear indicator, but seeing it happening before his eyes made his own heart double in size.

"She’s your little girl."

"My little girl. My princess." Charles whispered, gently kissing his daughter’s tiny hand "My everything."

Baku 2023:

"Question for Charles, you only arrived today, everything okay? I’ve, and I’m sure I’m not the only one, noticed that you’re a little pale?" a reporter asked at the press conference and Charles picked up the microphone, clearing his throat.

"I’m good, thanks. I had to sort out something back at home, nothing bad, don’t worry, just a family- a private matter. It’s all good and I’m here, ready to race." he said it with a big smile on his face.

A smile he kept for the rest of the press conference. A fake smile. Leaving Ava behind after not even a full week hurt. It didn’t sit right with him. But he promised his team he would race. He promised him being a father now wouldn’t affect his career and he planned on keeping that promise.

"You’re alright mate?" Max asked when they left the press conference and Charles nodded "Everything alright at home?"

"Yeah, sure�� it was just-… my mum. She was sick, nothing serious, but there were some things we had to take care off. Her hair salon. Stuff, you know?" the Monegasque was a horrible liar and he knew he had to improve in order to keep his secret under wraps.

"Okay-… well, I’m glad she’s good again?" Max replied.

"Hmm. Yeah. All good…"

"Alright. What do you think? Another pole this year here?"

"I much rather would start in P2 but actually win the race… but honestly? I’m not having much hope." Charles sighed, thinking about the weekend ahead, hoping for a decent outcome at least. And when Sunday came and he sat in the plane back home late at night, the smile on his face wasn’t just from being happy to see his daughter again, but also from a second place in the sprint race and a third place in the main race. His mood was only dampened by the fact that he would have too little time with his baby girl, considering he had to catch his flight on Thursday to Miami, but even if it would only be for 10 minutes, Charles would take the detour. Every single second with his daughter was precious.

"Hey my little princess…" Charles cooed at his little one, inhaling the unique newborn smell, sighing contently when he finally made his way back home "I’m back baby girl and this time I’m staying for longer than just a day!"

He thought back to last week when he made a quick stop over in between Baku and Miami, hating to leave her after only a day already.

"She was a perfect little angel." Pascale smiled, packing her granddaughters bag "Are you sure you want to drive home? You could stay here?"

"No, I really should go home. I have to get used to taking care of her alone…" Charles replied.

"Okay, here, I’ve got her a car seat." Pascale sat down the Maxi-Cosi and helped her son buckling in the little baby girl "If you need anything, call me, okay?"

"Will do. Thanks Maman, for taking care of her." Charles kissed his mother’s cheek, who gently squeezed his arm.

"I told you, we’re all helping you. It’s going to be fine. And now off you go. It looks like it’s about to rain soon…"

And Pascale was right, the moment Charles left the underground parking garage in his car the first drops fell and by the time he reached his own home it was already raining cats and dogs. But it was good like this. Not many people out in the streets. No one walking up to his car to take a picture. When he took Ava out of the carrier and laid her down in her crib he dialled his brother’s number.

"Hey Charles, how’s Ava?" Lorenzo asked and Charles rolled his eyes a little.

"What about me?" he pouted, gently stroking Ava’s cheek.

"You’re right, sorry! How are you? How is Ava?" his older brother chuckled.

"We are both doing fine. But I realised something today…"

"Yeah? And that’s what?"

"I need a new car. A bigger one. A safer one. With tinted windows. I can’t risk someone recognising me and then coming closer, taking pictures and spotting Ava. Chasing us…" Charles quietly left his bedroom, leaving the door a crack wide open.

"Okay, yeah that shouldn’t be a problem."

"Good… and now I have a week with my little one before I have to leave her yet again…" the young father sighed.

"Although I don’t know how you must feel, but let me tell you this. Formula 1 is your job, it’s been your life the past few years and you’re on a good way of finally making one of your biggest dreams come true… don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re doing your job, so it’s okay. And it’s not like you leave Ava all alone! You leave her with Maman who adores her!" Lorenzo said and Charles nodded slightly.

"You’re right… I know that… it just… it sucks a little…"

"Enjoy your week off with her for now, okay? The rest we’ll figure out! In the meantime I’ll check some cars out for you!"

"Thanks Enzo…"

"No worries little bro…"

Charles sat in his bed, Ava comfortably snuggled into his chest, watching the news about the weather in Italy.

"Looks terrifying, no?" Arthur said quietly, walking inside "I’m not even sure if we’re racing…"

"Yeah… and look at all the damage. Those poor people…" Charles sighed.

"Isn’t umm-… Alessia and her family aren’t they living in the Emilia Romagna region?" Arthur said hesitantly and by the way his brother’s head snapped up, looking at him he held up his hands "Sorry… I shouldn’t have said that…"

"You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I don’t know where they are. I don’t care where they are. I hope they’re safe, like everyone affected, but that’s it. I don’t know these people. I don’t want to know these people."

"I have food for you, from Maman…" Arthur tried to change the topic and Charles was more than happy about it.

"I’m starving…" he replied and his little brother nodded.

"I’ll go and fix a plate for you and then you can eat and I snuggle with my little bumblebee…" he left the bedroom and Charles looked down at Ava again.

She slowly opened her eyes, yawning and squirming a little.

"Hi my little princess…" Charles whispered, leaning down, kissing his daughter’s cheek "Did you have a nice nap, baby girl?"

He had to chuckle. He used to shake his head at people who exaggerate using a baby voice when tending to their babies. But now he was just like that, cooing at his little girl with a high pitched voice, waiting for a reply that wouldn’t come.

"Here you go… and now I want my little bumblebee…" Arthur sat down a plate on his older brothers night stand, looking at his niece, smiling when Charles gently laid her down in his arms "She’s so fu-…"

"Arthur!"

"- freaking cute! So incredibly, incredibly cute!" he cooed at the little girl in his arms.

"That she is…" Charles replied "I don’t want to leave on Monday… but it’s Imola, there is a ton of events Silvia couldn’t pull me out off, so I have to go…"

"I don’t want to leave either, staying here would mean no fu- messed up race weekend…" Arthur mumbled and Charles looked up from his plate.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, Arthur…" he began but Arthur shook his head.

"4 race weekends, 8 races and only one P3… no win, no pole position, mostly finished out of the points, crashes here and there… I guess I’m just not good enough…" he sighed.

"Hey! Stop that! It’s only the beginning of the season, you need time to get used to an F2 car!" Charles sat down his plate, looking at his little brother "You wouldn’t have made it into F2 if you weren’t good enough!"

"Everyone is saying I only made it because of you…"

"What? Who’s saying that?" Charles was confused.

"Everyone. It’s everywhere, experts, journalists, they all say it. Or write it." Arthur replied, smiling at Ava holding onto his finger with a tight grip.

The older Leclerc brother grabbed his phone, opening Google typing in his brother’s name and to his shock, his little brother was right. He clicked on the first YouTube video, not wanting to believe that people would say things like that.

"… now let’s talk about his team mate, Arthur Leclerc…" the blonde woman said, looking at her two male co-hosts.

"Leclerc didn’t have the best start of the season and some people start wondering if he deserves a seat in F2 and of course how much his brother had to do with him having a seat." the dark haired reporter said, while the blonde haired guy next to him nodded.

"Don’t get me wrong. Racing is in the Leclerc brother’s blood. But I guess you can say, when back in the day their parents had to decide which brother could continue and which had to stop, they made the right choice."

Furiously he exited the app, locking his phone.

"Are you watching that?" he looked at his little brother who only shrugged his shoulders "If they can’t talk shit, they’re not satisfied."

"But they’re right, no? I’m not having a good season. I am not good enough…" Arthur mumbled "So yeah… I guess it really made sense that mum and dad put all their money on you instead of me…"

"It had nothing to do with who was better, Arthur! I was older, already further into my racing career. That was it. Nothing else." Charles said and Arthur sighed.

"If you say so." he shrugged.

Charles got off from his bed and sat down on the stool in front of his brother.

"This all, racing, it’s already tough enough without all that bullshit coming from so called experts and you know it! It had nothing to do with me, that you got your seat, Arthur! You had an amazing season in F3. You won the Formula Regional Asian Championship. That’s what got you your seat. You have proven that you’re good enough. Got it?" he said, looking at his younger brother intently who just nodded after a while, his eyes still trained on his niece "And now come on. I want to go for a little walk with her, and now that Enzo brought my new car, we can drive a little out of town to somewhere quiet. Let’s worry about racing and that all tomorrow again, okay?"

"Okay… but just so you know, I’ll sit next to her in the car, I just love looking at her…" Arthur smiled a little and Charles chuckled.

"Same, Arthur, same."

"It’s cancelled. You can go home." Mia said and Charles cocked an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah… I know you just arrived early this morning… but it’s official. You won’t race. You can go home." she smiled at him and it didn’t take Charles longer than 5 minutes to pack his bag and leave.

"Hey! You’re leaving?" Carlos.

Charles stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly "I thought we had this dinner with some sponsors later on? Discuss what we can do to help? Or at least that’s what Silvia said?"

He was right. Silvia told him about it, but also said that if the race got cancelled she would make Carlos attend alone.

"Yeah-… umm. I know… it’s just- there is a family emergency back home. I have to go." Charles lied and his team mate looked at him empathically.

"Oh shit, mate. I hope nothing too serious?"

"No. It’s, it’s not too bad, but I have to check in and make sure it stays that way."

"Alright. Do that. And take care, the streets are flooded at some parts and the re-routing isn’t working at all times…" the Spaniard clapped his back and Charles smiled at him.

"Will do, thanks. And sorry for leaving you alone with Silvia and the wolves…" he felt bad.

"Don’t worry, cabrón."

Charles slipped into his car, starting the engine, his mind already at home with his little one. He drove off the Ferrari premises and quickly made his way to the motorway, thankfully without any serious delays or issues. When he finally arrived back home in Monaco and parked his car he leaned back in his seat. Closing his eyes for a minute. He flinched when his phone beeped and he saw a text from his manager, Nicolas, coming through. A new brand collaboration. He sighed, closing the message and getting out of the car. Another gig would mean more time away from his daughter. Something he didn’t like.

Charles quietly closed the door behind him, slipping of his shoes, when he heard the soft voice of his mother, cooing at her. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching his mother sitting in the rocking chair, his beautiful baby girl in her arms and his heart almost bursted.

"Look, little Ava, your papa is here…" Pascale cooed to the little girl and got up, walking over to her son.

"Hi my little princess…" he smiled at her and then kissed his mother’s cheek "Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll take her and you can go."

"Take all the time that you need." she replied, sitting back down in the chair "We are just fine…"

"I can see that." Charles chuckled and grabbed some fresh clothes, making his way into the bathroom, where he took a quick shower before joining his mother and daughter again.

"You look tired, Charles…" Pascale looked worriedly at her son, dark circles under his eyes.

"Driving late last night to Maranello, just an hour or two of sleep in the morning and then driving straight back home around noon? Yeah… I’m tired. But it’s okay. I would do everything for her…" Charles yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Why don’t you eat something and I make Ava bed ready? Change her, feed her, take her to bed and then you can go to bed as well and take over from then on?" his mother gently rubbed his arm "There are some leftovers in the fridge."

"Sounds like a plan. A good plan…" he mumbled, walking out of the room to warm up the leftovers, eating in silence before returning to his bedroom where Ava was already sleeping in her crib.

"Look at this little angel." Pascal whispered.

"She is perfect." Charles replied quietly, disappearing in his bathroom, getting bed ready himself "You should stay here Maman, it’s late."

"I’ll be fine, don’t worry. You sleep now!" she kissed his cheek "Good night, Charles."

"Good night, Maman… and thank you."

"Not for that…"

The next days Charles spent in pure bliss with his little girl. He felt like he learnt every other moment something new about her, saw a new expression in her face, a new movement of her head.

"Look! It’s like she understands what I’m saying!" he exclaimed "You’re so clever, Ava! So, so clever!"

"She doesn’t understand you. She just recognises your voice!" Lorenzo chuckled but his younger brother didn’t listen "So- umm have you thought about what to do during the Monaco GP?"

"What do you mean?" Charles looked up from his daughter, cocking an eyebrow.

"Charles, you cross the street on any normal day and at least a dozen of people swarm you here. But this week? It’s going to be crazy! Your fans will even follow Maman around, as soon as they spot her somewhere, imagine how they would stalk her if they saw her with a stroller… and she can’t stay inside the entire week with Ava! Also, everyone knows that she’s always in the paddock in Monaco. If she’s not here this year, people will start talking, and when they talk, they will look even more for her…"

"Fu-… damn. I haven’t even thought about that… but you’re right. Oh god what am I supposed to do? I don’t want people to assume that something is wrong with Maman, first Baku and the mysterious family matter why I arrived late, then the dinner in Imola that I didn’t attend because of a family emergency… if she’s not here this weekend… some people would start looking for her..." Charles leaned back, ruffling his hair.

"So umm we- no Charlotte had an idea… when I talked to her about it. We weren’t really spotted together by anyone, so she’s kinda unknown, no one would connect her in any way to you… she could take care of Ava? Go for a walk here and there with her? Watch her at least enough for Maman to be at qualifying and the race?"

"And she would be okay with that? Didn’t you ask her to join you this weekend?"

"She wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t okay, I’ll ask her to join me next weekend then." Lorenzo replied and Charles nodded.

"If it’s okay for her? She would definitely help me out big time."

"I’ll text her then…" he said and typed away in his phone, a reply coming through almost immediately "'I can’t wait to spend some time with the precious little princess'"

"She’s an angel, tell her that. Thank you! Like seriously. Next weekend in Barcelona, you book the nicest, most luxurious hotel for you two, take her to dinner to the best restaurant. My treat."

"Stop that. She loves to help out. Also, she loves Ava, I think we’re doing her a bigger favour…" Lorenzo laughed but Charles shook his head.

"Doesn’t matter. My treat next weekend."

"She’ll be delighted."

"It’s like this." Charles mumbled, shaking his head while leaving the garage with Andrea.

"You can still get up on top…" he replied but Charles scoffed "It’s not impossible! Just wait… and even if not, then you drive home and cuddle your little girl."

"Yeah. Holding her is better than lifting any trophy out there." the driver smiled.

"See? That’s the spirit." his athletic trainer bumped his shoulder.

"Yeah, I’m trying to…"

"Now come on. Let’s get home, eat something and relax, tomorrow is a new day."

And although Charles gave his best, he wasn’t able to make up any positions. He climbed out of his car, frustrated and congratulated Max on his win.

"Well done mate, congrats."

"Thanks man." Max clapped his back and smiled "Maybe next year you’ll beat the curse."

"There is no curse. Just me or my team not delivering." Charles mumbled and walked off.

He knew how everyone talked about his Monaco curse, but looking at it, it was always just a mistake by himself or, like last year, his team. After his weighing he made his way back to the Ferrari garage and prepared for the media pen.

"Hey Charles. Another year, another disappointing result for you. What went wrong?"

"I didn’t qualify good enough. In Monaco your starting position is crucial for the race outcome. And with the penalty, starting in P6, in the middle of the DRS train in Monaco? Yeah you will most likely finish in P6, like I did." Charles sighed.

"You complained about the stiffness of the car, do you think that will be an issue next week in Barcelona as well?"

"I don’t know. We will see I guess. If the car is like this next week… we have to wait and see…"

"It’s your home GP so now you go home, have a little time with your family and then off to Barcelona?"

"Yeah. Weekend debrief with the team now and then back home where my da-…" Charles stopped abruptly, eyes wide, thinking about what to say "Where my dance partners in crime wait for me." he scolded himself.

"Dance partners in crime?" the reporter cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah after a race like today I need to dance it out, you know?"

"Okay… umm- then have fun and see you next weekend."

Charles could kick himself. He had to be more careful from now on.

"You covered that up quite well…" Mia whispered, seeing how tense Charles was "Sure it was a little… well it was different. Nothing people are used to from you but it’s okay…"

"Dance partners in crime? Dance it out?" he sighed.

"Yeah, I mean, after this weekend? Who wouldn’t want to dance it out." she squeezed his shoulder "Now come on, let’s make this quick and then you can go home, to your dance partner in crime."

"Very funny." Charles groaned and when he finally slipped of his shoes back at home, he couldn’t wait to see his daughter, knowing that she would make him forget the whole weekend with just one little smile.

"She was just a perfect little angel." Charlotte smiled at him when he walked into his living room "She watched her daddy race and then she fell asleep, just like a good little girl."

"There wasn’t much to watch today, no?" Charles mumbled, picking his daughter up from the sofa "But it’s okay… I’m here now…"

"You’ll come back stronger next week."

"I guess we’ll see."

Chapter 6 - Ladies and Gentlemen, baby Ava has arrived and she’s already wrapping EVERYONE around her tiny little fingers. Writing Charles as a dad is one of my favourite things and I can’t wait for you all to read more about him and his little girl.

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000 @queensassybitchsworld

[sine-qua-noon]

Okay but evil Martha would that mean...good Lionel?

OR power couple mionel

Basically earth 2 luthors BUT Martha is there. Lex isn't dead. Tess is treated better.

And they are all one evil ass super family that succeed in taking over earth.

Zod: Kneel before zod

Martha: Who the fuck do you think you are talking too?

Clark: Oh you're dead.

Brainiac, Zod, Curtis Knox all kneel before the luthors. [[Martha]]

Darksied: Foolish earthlings

Marthq: *evil stare of death.*

Darksied:

Darkseid: How dare you all not built a statue towards your leader......

Martha: That's what I thought.

Lionel: *in love. Lust and pride all at once for this woman*

Both. Both is good.

But the idea I had when drawing that one was that in that version, for some evil nefarious reasons lex had somehow gotten ahold of Martha to turn her into a weapon to use agaisnt Clark, hence the lexcorp logo, Shes essentially just a husk following orders blindly, super enhanced, Lionel is on the good side, absolutely lost and furious and is working with the watchtower to try and find a way to get her back but also find out and reverse whatever lex had done to her.

On the other hand evil versions of both of them? My God, Instead of being a good senator/president she decided to just take over the world by herself, unfortunately alot of people don't like that, But a certain millionaire sponsors her and everything goes to plan. Lex and Tess are her advisors, Lionel just blindly follows whatever martha does and tries to impress her with takeovers etc.

[charlotterenaissance]

every day i wake up and have to contend with the fact that i might never find that one dave foley show with an episode where the rest of the kids in the hall show up as his high school goth bandmates

[gonnadosomethingwmylife]

I wonder if it haunts Peter that Neal did worse criminal acts for him and the FBI than he ever did as thief

[girlwiththegreenhat]

hey when they wrote "knight behind bars" and they wrote kitt helping a couple get together and they gave him the line "Some day, it will be my turn" [to find love]. did they know what they were doing. did they know that in some 40 years some gay autistic robot-obsessed little freak on tumblr would not stop thinking about it for weeks and write literal dozens of paragraphs screaming about it on discord. did they know they were going to ruin Me, Specifically, with this concept that feels like the culmination of everything kitt has gone through through the show and such a fascinating thing to think about in regards to michael and kitt's relationship,

one of the themes of knight rider is kitt developing as a Person, developing a line between the Knight Industries Two-Thousand, and Kitt. discovering humanity, his own emotions, the joys of the seemingly and logically pointless, and often through the lens of his own driver, his partner, his friend, Michael - his primary guide through all these experiences, his reference for those human things he doesn't understand. and as much as he initially claims to not be capable of experiencing emotions, of understanding feelings, he learns to. he experiences a wide range of emotions through the show even while claiming he doesn't, he even learns fear and insecurity. perhaps it's only natural a robot would learn to love, or at the very least be terribly curious about it and wonder if such a thing could ever exist for Him

the majority of people are not exactly kind to kitt. they talk about him like he's not there, they talk about him like he's a machine, a novelty, some people are even scared of or disturbed by him when all he's trying to do is make polite conversation and company. he's always Othered - there's no other cars like him (at least not anymore), but there's no other person like him either, he doesn't truly belong among humans or vehicles. some of the technicians at FLAG don't even seem to fully respect him as a person, at least they don't based on my vague recollection of how they talk about him in Junkyard Dog. when Michael asks him after KARR is destroyed if it feels good to be one of a kind again, he doesn't say yes or no - he only says it's a "familiar feeling." it may be familiar, but it's surely also isolating, and i think that's something he'd realize as he slowly picks up this curiosity about love. where could he even find it when so few people see him as an equal person to begin with?

and then there's michael. oh my god, and then there's michael. no matter what flavor you choose to read it in, the whole show is about their relationship, they're a duo, a set Not to be separated, they're Partners. they work together, they worry about and look after each other (forever insane about when kitt was a melted shell, Michael stuck around the garage for hours, waiting for any news like a worried spouse, constantly checking on him every opportunity he got... encouraging him to recover, and even helping paint back on his protective coating... kitt always looks after michael, but for once, it's michael's turn to look after Him), in a way they were Made for each other - Kitt more literally, being programmed for Michael and holding his namesake, but Michael was also made in a sense for the pilot program, hand picked and given a second life to work for the foundation and with this strange supercar. and even if they had a rocky start, michael comes to view kitt as a person - car, TV set, or computer core, Kitt is his partner, his buddy. he helps him find himself, guides him and teaches him about these things that make us human, and in a way, kitt becomes human - but his entire experience is still through the perspective of an AI in a car, it's still very unique and isolating, and I think he sort of grows into his own limitations, he's finally brushing against the walls that define him.

he learns of love, and then he learns to dream Of love. these things he sees in the movies, that michael tells him about, that he so often sees michael Partaking in that he gets so oddly jealous of, doesn't it all seem so wonderful? he's very curious. but who could ever love steel and circuitry, who could ever see him as an equal let alone a partner in a romantic sense? who would ever love a car and all the limitations That comes with? it's a problem for a hypothetical hopeful Some Day, in the meantime stuck between two worlds where he doesn't perfectly belong to either, where no car Can love him and no human seemingly Would love him...

and michael loves him anyway. before either of them really realize or talk about it, in spite of everything, in any form, regardless of the fact it wouldn't be a typical relationship by absolutely any means, michael loves him anyway. kitt is as much a person to him as bonnie or devon or RC, and that person is someone he loves and cares for deeply. the feeling is mutual, kitt's world revolves around michael, he's one of the most important people in kitt's life, and he'd do anything to protect him.

and it is michael that will finally teach him to love, and what it means to feel loved in turn, to be loved as the person he undoubtedly is.

[aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen]

Dex says:

Eat The Rich✨✨

[1-ufo]

I know I have friends here who absolutely love Simon so I have to update that he needs some good vibes sent his way.

His absolute dumbass one braincelled self has gone and eaten something he was not supposed to and it’s caused an intestinal blockage and he needs to have surgery tomorrow to get it removed.

It’s not surprising. He’s got some PICA tendencies but it IS frustrating and it IS expensive and I’m mad at him for being too stupid for self preservation.

I know he can’t help it. His brain is pea sized. But my god. There’s absolutely no intelligence behind his eyes and now it’s costing me a lot of money to save his dumb life. Hoping he didn’t kill any of his intestines because of this.

[cvakviigmohns]

The thing I still do not understand about this whole movie debacle is why they did not choose to do the filming during free practice..like ok, if you absolutely must suck musty geriatric abuser dick and doing something sensible like constructing the race scenes via CGI is out of the question, there are still ways to do it that don't involve putting a civilian in a race car in actual race conditions in a formation lap (and potentially with protesters on track too??). How did anyone greenlight this at all

[onlyfangz]

what i dont get with the colleen ballinger alleged grooming accusations is if you wanted to brush all of this under the rug why in the fuck would you make an earworm of a song to do it? i have had the chorus stuck in my head since it came out, and every single time it gets stuck in my head, i’m reminded about how much of an evil creep she is.

[chaoticsoft]

i love my new hell divers shirt!!!!!!!!! 💛🖤

[purple--queen]

I thing Marvel missed an opportunity to make Steven grant a millionaire in the mcu.

All the jokes about: you never see Steven Grant & moon knight in the same room.

[wowbright]

Tumblr is such a weird place. I love how accepting people here are in general. But there are also a handful of odd/untrue/harmful takes that I see here over and over and feel personally painful to me every time I read them. And I'm getting really sick of it.

[benicebefunny]

We could've had a season-long Nathan/Simi romcom with mistaken identities; candle-lit discussions of leadership styles; mutual recognition of anger as a totally valid respond to oppression and abuse; scenes with Sam ranging from hilariously awkward to achingly heartfelt; and a diorama of Simi's kitchen.

[skirwitte]

Everyone says that dragons can’t have 4 legs bc it doesn’t make sense skeletally but REAL flying lizards have 4 legs and wings???

AND. a little flag

Take THAT, America!

[j-esbian]

so so so fucking tired of people who perceive working in an office as the only “”real”” jobs