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ch3rryknots · 8 months

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i can take it┊cl16

*.·:·. charles leclerc x oc ✦ angst ✦ song .·:·.*

note : enjoy ᰔᩚ

calista tucked herself to bed, alone once more. charles had been gone for hours that evening, and it seemed he was rarely home anymore. but tonight was different, as he had disappeared for even longer after a particularly bad race weekend. this one had been worse than before, with him losing control and hitting the barriers during qualifying. calista’s worry for his safety consumed her, pacing back and forth while anxiously awaiting confirmation of his well-being over the radio. his engineers had declared the car unfit for sunday's race, and his frustration was painfully transparent as he walked right past calista. her arms, open and full of concern, waited in vain for his embrace that never came.

as she lay in bed, the memory of how it felt when he had a good weekend was almost slipping away. good weekends were the ones where charles stayed home, and she sat with him, glancing towards him as he laughed lightly to a movie. on those weekends, she would bake cookies — thumbprint cookies, chocolate chip cookies, snickerdoodle cookies — but never oatmeal raisin. charles despised raisins and she couldn’t fathom baking them if he wouldn’t enjoy them by her side. honestly she didn’t miss oatmeal raisin cookies all that much; it was okay.

she coveted the smile he would give her after taking a bite of the cookie. this is amazing, cali, he’d say, thanks for making me cookies. sometimes, he’d even give her a kiss on the cheek - but only sometimes.

the remembrance of his touch was slipping away.

calista's ears caught the jingle of keys slipping into the front door's lock. it was as though her hearing had sharpened recently, allowing her to gauge his mood from the subtle cadence of his footsteps – the weight they carried, the haste they conveyed, or often the sorrowful drag they bore.

from where she lay, she watched his shadow make it’s way through the bedroom doorway and veer left. the dim glow of the closet light seeped through the cracks of the closed door and she can hear clothes ruffling and drawers shutting semi-harshly. he switched off the light, and passing by the foot of the bed, seemingly indifferent to calista's presence, as he disappeared into the bathroom.

the sink ran softly, interrupted by a few starts and stops before the door handle turned once more. calista's heart quickened as he drew closer to the bed. he was almost mere inches away, nearly within arm's reach. the sensation was exhilarating, like a high school crush sitting beside you for the very first time.

the other side of the bed dipped, the sheet rising as he slipped beneath it. a cold puff of air accompanied the blanket falling, sending a shiver across calista's skin. although she was facing away, she instinctively knew he was lying on his back, he always said it was better for your spine.

she shifted ever so slightly closer, not until their bodies touched, but just enough for his warmth to swirl across her skin. with her eyes gently surrendering to closure, it was as if she could finally breathe.

turning to face charles, her gaze fell down to his hand — the hand that her own perpetually yearned for. she missed his arms around her terribly. charles had changed, from the affectionate man she once knew to someone who was now distant, showing no desire for physical contact.

unable to resist any longer, she let her hand slide into his, and in that moment, everything felt perfectly aligned—the way her fingers slotted right into his, a reunion that felt natural, as if they were extensions of the same being.

she stole a glance at his weary eyes fixed on the ceiling. there was a time when she could discern every passing thought behind those eyes. he used to love that she could read his mind, articulating things he hadn't even realized he felt. yet, as she sifted through the depths of his gaze, it was as though there was nothing to grasp onto, just a profound, unsettling radio silence.

propping herself up on her elbow, she remained clasping his hand and looked further into his eyes. with her free hand, she cradled his cheek, frowning as she met his vacant gaze. tracing her thumb gently along his cheek, i’m sorry, she murmured softly, it’ll get better, i promise. he was breathtakingly beautiful, and the sight of him so emotionally distant was a wretched ache. she feared he might not fully grasp the depth of her love for him.

she gently lowered her head and planted a kiss on his cheek, something she hadn't been able to do for months. he tasted like starlight. but, the kiss ended all too abruptly, vanishing before her mind could fully absorb it. it felt as though she had just brushed her lips against his skin, yet he was already pulling away. she wasn't ready to let go of him just yet...

she scanned his face, desperately seeking any hint of reciprocation for the overwhelming love she felt when looking at him. it was a love that twisted her stomach in a way that could bring her to her knees in tears; a love that consumed her entirely. she adored every facet of him, every inch of his mind, of his soul. but when she searched and searched for even the faintest glimmer of reciprocation, all she found was the gaze of a stranger staring back at her.

she longed for her husband, aching in his absence.

charles released her hand and turned away, his words barely audible as he muttered that he needed space. he took any warmth with him, leaving behind only her profound solitude to hold her.

calista’s eyes spilled over with hot tears, rolling down her scorching cheeks. she was so enraged. she wanted to scream—she wanted him to scream, to yell at her, for him boil over and explode with rage. she yearned for him to spill out every irritation, every vexation, even if it was directed towards her. she needed him to seize anything within reach and hurl it across the room, to grab the lamp and swing it into the wall, shattering the ceramic into fragments. and if that still wasn't enough, she would have let him use her, to tear her apart with his bare hands until there was nothing left, not even anger. she craved some kind of reaction from him, any response at all, but he simply turned away.

౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ

#sob sob sob #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc angst #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 2023 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 angst #ferrari #mitski

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bluebayousblog · 4 months

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RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 15)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more I'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: christmas eve

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Everything felt wrong as Drew watched Isobel run away from him—from their problems—until she was hidden behind her door in the confines of her room. There was nothing he could do so he just let her go because if he ran after her it would draw attention and that’s exactly what she didn’t want. Although, he could already feel Charles’ suspecting eyes on him when he chose to sit in the living with everyone else. It was the best option seeing as if he went up to the second floor where she was he would be at her door begging on his knees the first chance he got.

What he would be begging for he didn’t know in the slightest, but he knew her forgiveness or acceptance would fill the gaping hole he currently felt in his chest. He’d experienced how withdrawn Isobel could be in the years he’d known her, but after having her all to himself in situations where she’d bared herself to him, he never wanted to see that part of her again. Where he felt like a stranger in her eyes, or where she looked at him with fear because the sight haunted him—especially when she insisted on keeping how she felt burrowed inside. Leaving him to think the worst.

Another movie was starting when he sat down, and when he noticed the end credits rolling down the screen he realized he hadn’t heard a word of the film, let alone what movie it was. Everyone eventually began retiring to their respective rooms as it got later into the night, but Drew remained until it was just him sitting alone in the den as the sound of the television acted as white noise that did a horrible job of drowning out the thoughts of Isobel. The girl who’d unknowingly attached an invisible tether to his heart and dragged it out of his chest with her the moment she left him alone in the truck.

The next morning he didn’t want to wake up. He slept peacefully because he dreamt of Isobel, it was just the two of them in a world where she was his. He didn’t have to divulge the deep emotions he had for her because in that world she already knew, and he knew she felt the same—it was dancing in the glint of her beautiful eyes. That was what his dream consisted of, him staring into her chocolate orbs as he absorbed her every unspoken emotion, it was endless, but when she finally blinked he woke just when her gaze was about to return.

She stole his first waking thought just as she always did, the corner of his lips slightly tugging up at the feeling his dream had swirling around his stomach before his drowsy state evanesced as reality reared its head. He longed to go back to their last time together before coming home for break, when he woke up dreaming of Isobel and seeing her the second his eyes drifted open. That was a gift. A gift he wasn’t ready to give up, one he wanted to have for the rest of his life.

His awareness was practically nonexistent while preparing to go downstairs to have breakfast with the family. It was Christmas Eve and Catherine and Lora always went all out for it, he could already smell the aroma of their cooking seeping into his room through the cracks of his door. Drew seemed to be dissociating uncontrollably while he stood in front of the bathroom mirror and brushed his teeth, then once more when he pulled on some sweatpants over his underwear to make himself presentable to join everyone in the breakfast room. His mind was so easily escaping to the girl who slept down the hall from him, and it clung to his every thought as if it could make up for the absence he was feeling for her ever since their last conversation. Where she ran without sparing him another glance as the darkness of her room swallowed her retreating body.

He yearned to see her pretty face in that moment and all the minutes and hours thereafter leading up to this very moment as he swung his door open. He was about to put himself through a torture he could never prepare himself for, sitting in a room with Isobel while they acted like nothing was going on. Sure, they’d been doing exactly that going on a week but this was different, the knowledge that she was his when it was just them two in the back of his head no longer anchored him because now he didn’t know if that could be true anymore.

Still, he would take her ignoring him, ignoring the connection they’d formed together in such a short period of time rather than not seeing her at all.

“Isobel, breakfast is ready. Are you awake?” Lora Cooper said as she knocked and pushed the door open to her daughter’s room.

Isobel could hear the concern in her mother’s voice. It was expectant because Isobel never slept in past eight in the morning, yet here she was engulfed by her comforter in her bed. “I don’t feel well, I think it may have been a little too cold for me last night.”

She wasn’t lying—perhaps she didn’t feel sickly but her body felt heavy like if she even tried to lift herself from the mattress she would just fall flat back onto the feather stuffed quadrilateral, so she didn’t even try. And last night was definitely cold, but it wasn’t the weather keeping her in bed. It was the thought of facing Drew after running from him. Having to face him and potentially see the hurt she heard in his voice on his beautiful face made nerves swarm her belly.

Then there was Charles, she would have to face him too. Her stomach turned thinking of all the times she’d been around him this break and completely clueless of his knowledge of her involvement with his son. She hated the possibility of him viewing her any differently because of it. Isobel stubbornly wanted to remain as that same innocent girl he’d met all those years ago, not just one of Drew’s conquests. And this was just the tip of iceberg, Charles’ was just the beginning of the list of people she would eventually have explain herself to.

“Oh, Darling give me just a few minutes and I’ll bring some tea and food up to you.” Lora stated, the older woman already out of the door before she could even protest.

Isobel sighed heavily before somehow melting further into the bed. She hated the situation she was in. She hated when Drew realized she wasn’t coming to breakfast he would know it wasn’t because she was sick. Most of all she hated that she ran from him last night and was continuing to do it now, but she couldn’t help it. If she wasn’t with Drew, if there was nothing to show forth regarding their relationship she didn’t have to face her problems or face Charles. And Drew wouldn’t have to tell her father.

What would he say to him anyway? That thought scared her the most because whatever he shared could change the way Richard gazed at her, her favorite gaze, the one she never had to second guess her ability to live up to. There was only so much they could share with their families because they weren’t together. It had only been a few weeks, and they were just fooling around yet things felt so serious between the two, atleast for Isobel it did. And from the suffocating tension she felt thicken in the air of the car after he’d dropped that bomb, she knew it probably felt the same way for him as well.

Her stomach twisted in nausea as her mind raced in circles. Isobel was scared of being hurt again by another man, but changing the dynamics they’d built with their families over a relationship that wasn’t promised put her off more than anything.

Drew wasn’t waiting patiently for Isobel to gracefully descend down those steps like only she could. He was antsy and constantly moving and hanging on to every sound of any potential movement that came from upstairs or the kitchen entrance hoping for her arrival. He just wanted to see her.

Finally, the stairs began to creak and his heart sped up as the sounds increased the closer she got to the first floor. Drew had arguments with girls before, but when he saw them the next day he didn’t care. With Isobel he feared when she walked into the room he would fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness—beg her to just try again with him—because there wasn’t another one woman that could come into his life that could replace the feelings she’d instilled so deeply in his being.

To his disappointment it was only Lora who entered the room without an Isobel trailing on her heels like he’d expected.

“Where’s Isobel?” Cooper asked with a furrow in his brow. Everyone knew Isobel should’ve been down here by now because she was always the first one down out of all the kids.

Drew was feeling guiltier than ever because everything Isobel feared would happen was unfolding right before them. They’d explored things with each other and now things were changing. He wanted nothing more than to possess the ability to stop the world from turning so things could be at a standstill where nothing would evolve and they could just be happy in the moment. Drew wanted to do the impossible for her.

“I think she’s feeling a little under the weather.” Lora answered.

“My princess could never take the cold” her father sighed, and in the moment Drew felt a pang of jealousy in his chest because just yesterday he thought that she could be his too.

He’d always looked up to Cooper, never feeling any negative emotions towards the man. If anything he was like a bonus father for him. Some little kids may have resented someone who took up a good majority of their father’s time, but he was family and he’d always made an effort to make him and his little brother feel that way.

But in this moment he’d envied him for the first time in his life because Richard Cooper was a man that had Isobel’s everlasting love. It was a love that was guaranteed—a love that she didn’t fear.

As a man, he didn’t think he ever wanted something so much in his life.

And where he felt envious he also felt immense frustration because he knew that Isobel wasn’t feeling ‘under the weather”, no, she was hiding from him. The thought of it made him want to march to her room and drag her downstairs because if anyone should be down here with family it was Isobel. This was the first time he’d wholeheartedly appreciated being around family for the holidays and that was all because of her.

As he contemplated sneaking up stairs to her room his father saying his name snapped him out of the mental battle he was having in his head, “Drew come around back and help me with something.”

“Thank God.” Drew heard his little brother Chandler whisper under his breath who was probably still pissed about having to chop wood in the freezing cold last night while Drew went out with Isobel.

Charles was already walking out of the kitchen presumably to the sliding doors that led to the heated patio, and Drew quickly stood to catch up with him. When he slid the glass door shut and looked up at him his face was unsurprisingly blank. The younger Starkey looking around in confusion as there was no wood that they’d left over to be moved inside. “What’s up, Dad?”

“Isobel isn’t at breakfast.” He plainly stated before sipping his coffee out of the Christmas mug he was holding in his left hand. It was a mere observation, a stranger would think there was nothing behind his words, but Drew knew there was always meaning behind everything his father said.

Drew had no interest in getting into all of this with his father, not when he hadn’t spoken to Isobel and this was the last thing she would want him to be doing. Conversing with Charles about a disagreement they were having when he shouldn’t even know about them in the first place.

“Yeah.” He said dryly as he racked in his brain for ways to get the man to let this conversation go.

“She never misses Christmas Eve breakfast.” Charles once again pointed out the obvious, but Drew swears he heard just the tiniest hint of sadness hidden in between his words.

The love for Isobel ran deep for both of their families, and being able to feel for her in way that they couldn’t allowed him to see the way they cared for her in such a different light. He could appreciate it because he felt it too, the love that so many people had for a woman he would do anything for.

“Dad.” He pleaded for so many reasons. For Charles to see that he was struggling with all of this. For him to understand that he couldn’t tell him exactly what was going on because it didn’t just involve Drew. For him to bring Isobel back to him like a little boy who begged their father to fix something they’d broken.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but you have to clean up your messes, Drew, especially if you care about how the mess affects everything around it.” His father’s eyes creased in concern. Drew could only imagine what he was thinking, but sympathy also present in the blue orbs they shared told him it wasn’t the worst.

“What if someone doesn’t want me to clean it up, Dad?” Drew couldn’t help but ask because he was at a loss. He knew he wanted Isobel more than anything, but he just didn’t know how to get to her. Because he could walk up those stairs right now and burst into her room, but that didn’t mean she would have him.

“You probably know better than I do. You know her in that sort of way, so only you can tell yourself what the right thing is to do.” Charles provided, implication laced throughout his tone, but in typical Charles fashion he still managed to give some helpful input, “Continue giving her space, but don’t let go.”

Drew’s throat closed at the thought of ever walking away from Isobel. It wasn’t a possibility for him, and that realization hurt more than anything because she’d done exactly that without looking back.

“I don’t think I can let go.” Drew mumbled to himself.

Isobel lied around in bed for the rest of the morning, but she couldn’t bring herself to spend the entire day ostracized from her family. She rolled out of bed and proceeded with the day as normal. She always wore red on Christmas Eve, so she wore a red braided Ralph Lauren sweater but dressed it down with a pair of comfortable leggings she knew would keep her warm. She sat in front of a mirror in her room and took her time doing her makeup, and when she was done and decided she looked pretty her mind drifted to Drew, wondering if he would think the same.

It was hard to accept once she realized, but while she lived for herself and her family, a great bit of her lived for him too because when you cared for someone you cared what they thought of you.

Lastly, she pulled a few black strands of her hair back with a silky red bow and let the rest of it flow down her back. She paced around the room, and thought of a million reasons why she shouldn’t leave out of the door before finally swinging it open and headed towards the stairs. The sounds of voices and laughter, her father’s the most prevalent, hit her ears as she slowly made her way down the steps as if prolonging her arrival would make any difference. When she entered the room everyone’s heads snapped to her, but she couldn’t help but noticed that Drew’s turned just slightly faster. Her eyes instantly fell to his, and her heart jumped at the look blatant in his unwavering stare. Just like that she knew that he thought she looked pretty indeed.

“Isobel you look gorgeous, baby, are you feeling better?” Lora asked from her spot on the couch.

All of the parents seemed to be playing cards while Drew and Chandler watched.

“Much better, I think I was just tired.” She smiled.

Isobel’s eyes dropped to the coffee table they were playing games on. It was also littered with mugs most likely filled with egg nog. She hated egg nog, but the sight of them doing their tradition without her made her smile droop a fracture. She felt awkward and out of place and was now wondering why staying cooped up in her room earlier made any logical sense.

“I got your Christmas mug down and sat the hot chocolate out just in case you came down, Isobel, there’s hot water waiting for you in the kettle.” Charles informed, nonchalantly clearing his throat like he hadn’t just done the sweetest thing ever. Another similarity she was learning he and Drew shared. When she looked at the younger of the two, his eyes were no longer looking at her—he was now gazing at his father.

“Thank you, Chuck.”

Charles just gave her an expected nod as their eyes met for a second or two before he focused his attention back on the game. She feared that things wouldn’t be the same, and that she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes again after Drew told her he knew. But just as always her sweet ones met his as he gazed back in a softer stare than what he gave his sons.

Isobel felt another set of eyes she knew belonged to Drew, but when she looked up he looked elsewhere. That hurt more than expected, but she was the one who chose to end things yesterday. Throughout the years he’d never made her do something she didn’t want to, and it seemed he was leaving her be to sit alone in the mess she’d made. When she turned to walk away towards the kitchen, like the hopeful fool she’d unknowingly let herself become when it came to the boy, she wished he would follow.

He didn’t.

But she waited. She grabbed her little Santa mug and waited a beat to hear him getting up from the couch where he was sitting in the living room. He didn’t come. She poured steaming water into the cup and went as far as emptying the hot chocolate packet into the liquid before she couldn’t help but listen for his footsteps. They weren’t there. When she finished preparing her drink and returned to the living room he remained just where he was before she left staring down at the card game. Drew was usually on his phone while their families did these sorts of things together, but today he was disconnected—to a point. Isobel could feel he wasn’t being fully present, and she knew the reason was because of her.

“Since my partner has finally arrived I think it’s time we start up a game of spades.” Her father suggested in a playful tone.

Figuring she should try to get into the holiday spirit for her own and her family’s sake she agreed, “Only if Chandler and Chuck are ready to lose.”

“You got lucky last time, Isobel.” Chandler mumbled as he cracked his knuckles like it would help his game. She’d never met someone whose ego continued to grow despite losing time and time again.

“And the time before that and the time before that…” she trailed off, her father’s thunderous laughter filling the room. Even Charles couldn’t help but smile despite her coming for his partner. That simple laugh could lift the mood in the room, at least it brightened hers anyway—Drew still seemed to be on another planet.

He felt far away yet he was right in front of her. To Isobel this was far worse than sitting across from him and pretending as if she didn’t burn for him because now she didn’t know if he still burned for her.

They started the game and his presence continued to eat up the atmosphere around her, but he paid no mind. She snuck little glances as his eyes continued to remained elsewhere, so she finally gave up and focused on the game. Calling it quits was easy, she knew it would be, it’s why she had to talk herself out of doing it so many times before when things got too real with Drew, hell he talked her out of it once. But it was what came after walking away that proved to be the hardest part of it all.

She became so engrossed in the strategy of spades and winning alongside Richard that she hadn’t even realized she’d been smiling nonstop as they played three different games. Things felt normal, it felt like it always did during the holidays when they all spent time together. It was how she wanted things to remain—the reason she took the cowards way out.

When she happened to look up after taking the winning book of cards from the center of the table her eyes locked with Drew’s twinkling orbs and this time he didn’t look away.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART SIXTEEN

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inawearyworld · 4 months

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free if you truly wish to be: chapter iii

plots are half revealed, and willy "mr accidentally steal yo girl" wonka gets his sorry ass saved by a woman wearing one of those "oh no my husband mysteriously floated away died" robes you see all over pinterest. (now there's a sentence i never thought i'd write.)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

i would like to thank mr mathew baynton in that one bts interview for those bits and pieces of fickelgruber analysis that will totally now be used here. and also for being generally wonderful. thanks mat ilysm

also i thought it would be sort of funny for at least someone in this world revolving around chocolate to be lactose intolerant and then of course i had to turn it into something sad and poetic bc of Who I Am As A Person

enjoy!! and thank you for all the support on this fic so far!!

part two fic masterlist part four

She had a lot to think about that night.

Felix hadn’t returned home yet, and she started to worry that the fateful flying chocolates weren’t quite as harmless as advertised. The young man who’d made them, too, was swirling about her mind in a haze of schoolgirl blushes and piercing guilt.

Florence Fickelgruber had chosen her lot when she agreed to take on that name. Who was she to imagine a freer life, one of candy-coated dreams and a clear conscience, of gazes and banter with someone her own age, of running her hand through curls that weren’t slick with expensive gel? Who was she to foolishly wish for anything different, when so many people were counting on her?

She missed her home, her family, and it hadn’t been lost on her that Felix had never told her about his own background. Their wedding was attended mainly by those surrounding the Fickelgruber business, as well as another flood of press. She’d had to blink so much that day, unused to being in front of cameras after a youth spent on the stage, but her new husband had preened next to her as if this focus on appearance was where he felt most at home. She remembered the crowd’s polite cheers fading in her mind as he had slowly lifted her chin while she accepted a forkful of the most extraordinarily decadent chocolate cake.

For that day, she had allowed the feeling of his hand on her face to eclipse that of the too-rich frosting stuck in her throat.

Then he came through the door, humming a jaunty tune, and she blinked, torn out of the memory that she felt an entirely different kind of guilt for indulging in.

“Felix? Darling, where have you been?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty auburn head, my songbird. The boy’s finished, absolutely finished. No one will be flying about the Galeries Gourmet if the police have anything to say about it.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“He’s disturbed the peace, made a commotion, even encouraged the-the-the unfortunate to disgrace our sacred sanctuary of chocolate. And the Chief is none too happy about it.”

“Is he?” she said suspiciously, stepping in front of him-because, up until this point, he hadn’t looked her in the eye.

Felix was silent for a moment, cacao eyes darting. His wife’s gaze was strong and unyielding-don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it-but her head tilted innocently to the side, a sort of plausible deniability.

A sort of protection.

“Yes,” he breathed with a curt nod, and took her hands in his. “I promise you, it was a solemn thing.”

“Then what were you singing as you came in?”

The chocolatier blinked again, falling into an absolutely done sort of expression, and Florence’s head tilted to the other side.

“You’ve had another musical number without me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, pet.”

“You know you can’t hide from me, Felix,” she said, something that would have been playfully teasing but held an edge of desperation that he refused to pick up on.

“It of course wasn’t the same without you,” he drawled in that ever-dramatic way, bringing her into their living room. “We’ll make it up now. Dance with me, Florence.”

He snapped his fingers, and some unseen yet attentive servant placed a needle on a record. A crooning melody started to crackle and bounce across the high golden ceilings, and Felix spun his wife into him, twirling her about with a smirk that she could only imagine to be the result of a monopoly saved.

She swayed to and fro in his arms, trying desperately to sink into the music, unable to focus on anything but the wrenching pull of her battling guilts.

Florence spent much of the next day in a state of ping-ponging worry. She’d looked intently out of the mansion’s sprawling windows over the town square, wondering whether her forbidden new friend had taken her advice.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

And who knows what they’ll do to him now?

The hours had passed in a blur, and then she was laid limp, unable to sleep, and mentally exhausted, next to her husband and his piccolo snore.

She had screwed her eyes shut and burrowed into him, trying to force herself to feel as secure as she did two years ago; then, the slight sound of a little girl’s singing voice lifted itself into her consciousness, followed by the blare of a police car.

Puzzled, Florence carefully got out of bed and went to the window once more. The girl she’d heard was the one with the sweet smile that she’d seen in the Galeria yesterday, and Willy Wonka was next to her, warning her to run. The Chief of Police and Officer Affable faced them, but this wasn’t to last-the former seemed to tell the latter to leave, and the latter obeyed.

It wasn’t as if a switch flipped at that moment.

More like…

An extinguished candle was finally relit.

Before she could overthink herself into inaction, Wren was grabbing her robe and slippers and bolting downstairs, the snore that echoed after her serving as reassurance that she wouldn’t be found out. In her haste, she had the passing realization that this would be the first time she’d leave the house with her hair down and uncoiffed in over two years.

Through this rush, she heard the plunge of something in the town square’s fountain along with the shouts of the Chief, and she ran faster, throwing open the door just in time to see him about to club a drenched Willy over the head.

“OFFICER!”

Both men turned to her in an instant. She let out the breath she’d been holding since first hearing the girl’s voice, rolled her shoulders back, dropped into the character she’d played for the past two years, and stepped forward.

“What on earth is going on?”

They stared, each with a different kind of shock, as she walked toward the fountain. The Chief returned his nightstick to its holster.

“Mrs. Fickelgruber,” he stammered, “I thought you would have thought-well, I guess he didn’t tell-you aren’t-”

“No, I’m not thrilled about you clobbering this poor young man in the middle of the night,” she said, placing a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He looked at her, still touched with the fear of the past minutes but now grateful, and she tried not to be struck by the freckles she saw behind his water-plastered curls.

“Who said anything about clobbering?” the Chief laughed somewhat nervously. “We were just having a chat. An impactful, memorable chat. Right, Mr. Wonka?”

Willy dragged his eyes to him and held them there, a bit speechless.

What was probably three seconds but felt like an eternity of strange silence passed.

“Memorable indeed.”

“Right, then,” the Chief said. “You’ll do good to continue to remember it. Goodnight, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

With that, he entered his car and drove away, his tail lights fading in the distance as the remaining pair stood, a little shell-shocked, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said after a while, his gaze still trailing the receding police car.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving his shoulder an awkward pat, which made her realize just how cold he was due to the impromptu fountain bath. “Oh, God, you’re freezing. Let me…”

As he turned towards her, she looked up, trying to see through her window in the dark. She could barely make out the shape of a sound-asleep Felix, still in bed.

“Come to the office, I’ve got the key. There’s a fireplace there; you can stay as long as you need to to warm up.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes moved up the same way, then back to her, and she shook her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course.”

“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea? Hot chocolate?”

She hadn’t turned on most of the lights so as not to draw attention, but she’d started a beautiful fire, which Willy sat by in a plush emerald-green chair. She’d rattled off the drinks on habit, but she turned to him upon saying the third, sharing his smile.

“The last one, please. But I’ll make it.”

“No, you need to rest-”

“I insist,” he said, moving to join her by the small bar in the office and searching through ingredients. “Unless that’s some sort of corporate sacrilege.”

“Making chocolate in enemy territory?”

He took a small jar of powder from his sleeve and shook it into two mugs, considering this, and his smile faltered a bit.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “That they’d…that they’d send the police after me? That business rivalry is thought of like a war?”

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.

“They…feel threatened,” she said slowly, “and, despite how professional they seem, they can’t be mature or rational about it. Apparently, you really do have the best chocolate in town.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, but gave half of a smile as he looked down at the drinks he was stirring.

“And I, for one, am quite looking forward to trying it.”

“Here, then,” he said, pulling something out of a coat pocket that had managed to escape the frozen flush. “Nothing too dangerous about this one. Just some good old Wonka magic.”

He opened his hand to her, revealing a small, wrapped treat, and she sighed.

“I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t. Not even the drinks.”

“Why not?” came the stunned reply, and she nearly laughed at just how sweetly scandalized the boy seemed to be at the idea of anyone denying themselves that pleasure.

“Milk has never really…agreed with me. Bad for the throat, and I’m a singer besides, as you know-I mean, I-well, it’s just…”

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

“I shouldn’t.”

He took a moment, and she watched his eyes widen as he processed the shocking injustice of being genetically predisposed against chocolate.

“Does your husband know about this?”

“He does, but he doesn’t care. Says I’ll ‘grow out of it with time’, which I haven’t.”

“So he’s…”

“Essentially poisoning me, yes.”

They laughed a little, because, surrounded by echoes of Fickelgruber’s power, it was the only thing they could do.

Willy stared at the table for a moment, then pulled another vial, this one containing a liquid, from yet another pocket.

“Lucky for you, then, I’ve got milk made from the product of the finest almond trees on the islands of Seychelles,” he said as he deftly poured the liquid into her glass. “Guaranteed to go down sweetly, both on the taste buds and after.”

“...Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the gesture.

With a final flick of the wrist, he deemed the hot chocolate finished, and they each carried their mug to the fire.

“Wren,” he said thoughtfully as they sat down.

“Hm?”

She was instinctively flooded with warmth in the same way she was yesterday, though whether it was due to the stunningly perfect cocoa or hearing her name in his voice she wasn’t sure.

“Is it a nickname? Songbird, right?”

She saw in the fireglow that his face darkened a bit upon the memory of how Felix had always referred to her in the press, taking that potentially sweet title and spinning it in an almost dehumanizing manner. So someone did notice.

“Well…sort of. That was what my parents intended. They say a wren sang when I was born, so they gave me that name, and I loved it. But Felix assumed it was a nickname and suggested I should expand it; to sound more sophisticated in my performances, he said, but I knew half the reason was to fit with the alliteration. He’s always valued aesthetics above anything else.”

They were silent for a while, and the massive painting seemed to stare down at them, making the Fickelgrubers look almost menacing in the fireglow.

“That’s you?”

A moment passed.

“No. No, that’s not really me.”

Her voice was quiet, but decisive. Willy looked at her, really looked at her, and she felt more seen than she had in years.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Hm?”

His head tilted to the side, a little stunned, and she nearly giggled as his now-drying curls flopped in front of his face.

How could anyone want to hurt him?

“I don’t know exactly what Felix and the rest have planned against you, but I know there’s something. He never really tells me anything, but I’ll…I’ll try to find out what I can, to distract him when needed. I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The others where I’m staying right now, we’re all in a rather precarious situation together, and I’ve got a few ideas, but…”

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, and after a few moments, he looked back up at her, for once lost for words.

“But thank you. Again. I’d…I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. For bringing some much-needed heart into this place.”

“I think you’ve done that rather well yourself.”

This was news to her often-guilt-wracked brain.

“...Really?”

“Well, of course. You clearly care, Wren…you’re kind, you’re poetic and talented, and far smarter than it seems they give you credit for. It’s in your eyes, too, I think. You can always tell the truth by a person’s eyes.”

Her heart had nearly stopped.

Somehow, though, she could tell that he was unaware of the full effect he had on her.

“Mr. Wonka-ah, Willy, I mean…”

“Forgive me if-I didn’t intend to-”

The clocks around the city chimed the hour, interrupting the two just as they had the day before, and the young man’s expression went from its dazed dawning to a startled realization.

“They’ll need me. Back where I’m staying, I mean.”

“Of-of course,” she said a bit awkwardly as they both stood up.

His hair had dried by now, falling in perfectly imperfect swoops around his face. He’d undone his necktie to keep its cold away from his neck, and his jacket was folded over his arm, and he was looking at her as if he hadn’t had a conversation quite like that with someone in a very, very long time.

And neither had I.

Or…ever, I suppose.

Until now.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.”

She took a breath, let it out, and folded him into a hug, which he returned in an instant.

After two years of jutting angles and sharply possessive grasps, it was remarkable to simply, softly, hold and be held.

They bid a last goodnight before parting ways, and as she took her time walking back to the mansion, the moon seemed brighter than ever before.

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader #fiytwtb

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son1c · 1 month

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oc question! do they have a favorite food? :3c

jack prefers spicy food! her favorite is probably sichuan hot pot... but she's not above putting hot sauce on things that have no business bringing the heat LOL. in particular, i like to think about sonic convincing her to try a chili dog and she makes a face cuz it's not spicy enough for her... so she douses the thing in tabasco lmaooo. she's also the type of person who will eat jalapenos raw. like an anime character who bites into a raw lemon, that's jack, but with jalapenos hahaha

teddy favors sweet things. his favorite flavors are honey and vanilla. he's also big on fruits, his favorite being strawberries. his favorite food is probably spinach strawberry salad with poppyseed dressing...

sun loves chocolate. specifically dark chocolate. overall, her palate favors more bitter food. she's a big coffee drinker, too. she and shadow would get along well because of this i think.

aaand cherry's all about cinnamon. cinnamon rolls, cinnamon swirl, cinnamon pound cake. he gobbles it up like a starving orphan lol

#anonymous #snowpoint sonic #just answered for the snowpoint crew. teehee

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ereardon · 1 year

Text

My Girl [Chapter 9][Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]

Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]

WC: 2.4K

Warning: Age gap, cursing, fighting, light smut, angst, mention of death

Series masterlist here

Please fill out this form here to join my tag list

You had tossed and turned all night, debating whether or not to get up and leave.

In the end, you fell asleep on the edge of the bed, Jake snoring softly next to you, blissfully unaware.

How could you blame him? He was sleeping next to a warm body in the room he had shared with his wife for years. How could you fault his subconscious?

But you can’t say it didn’t break your heart to feel his warm hands on your bare skin and her name on his lips as he brushed his mouth against your shoulder. How the ghosts of his touch were still hot across your skin, his essence still inside of you, your leg wrapped around his.

It broke your heart to know that twelve hours before you had told him you loved him for the first time.

Perhaps worse, knowing that he had been the one to say it first left you with more questions than answers.

When you woke, the bed was empty. His absence gave you time to clear your mind, take a shower, rest your forehead against the cool marble counter of the bathroom and take in a deep breath before emerging into the kitchen where Ellie sat at the kitchen island on a bar stool, eating a bowl of fruit and yogurt.

Both she and Jake looked up when you entered, their faces lighting up, and a pit grew in your stomach. For the first time, you realized just how much energy it took to be a parent, to shield your child from pain when all you wanted to do was crumble. How difficult it was to keep a smile plastered to your face when inside you felt like a melted ice cream cone.

“Good morning,” Jake said softly, crossing the kitchen and to your shock, placing a kiss on your lips quickly. It was so brief it was almost a whisper, but you saw Ellie’s eyes on the two of you the entire time.

It was a line, and Jake was crashing past it.

“Sleep OK?” he asked, moving to the coffee machine and pouring you a mug before setting it down on the island in the place next to Ellie. You slid onto the barstool to her right and wrapped your shaky fingers around the mug, nodding as Jake poured cream on top of your coffee until it was a milk chocolate color.

“Yup,” you said softly. Next to you, Ellie swirled her spoon around her bowl. “I should probably head home soon.”

“Really?” Jake frowned, leaning against the counter, one foot crossed in front of the other. He was still wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a soft henley top, his hair perfectly ruffled. He looked more handsome than ever, and it made your heart pang with longing knowing that you weren't sure how long you'd have with him. The events of the previous night had you doubting your future with Jake. “I thought maybe we could go to a movie.”

You took another sip of your coffee before standing, dumping the rest in the sink and running the faucet to rinse it out. “I have a lot of work to catch up on from taking a half day on Friday,” you said. “Thanks for the coffee.”

It was almost impossible to look at Ellie without tearing up. Something about her ethereal innocence made tears start to well behind your eyes.

“Bye sweetie,” you said, reaching out and smoothing down her hair and she grinned.

“Bye Natalie!”

You headed down the hallway toward the foyer, grabbing your purse from the entryway table, digging your keys out of the side pocket. In the kitchen, you could hear Jake’s muffled voice, followed by his footsteps as he quickly jogged down the hall. “Nat?” he said softly, one hand coming out to rest on your upper arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you choked out but you knew it sounded like a lie the moment the words spilled from your lips. “I’ll talk to you later?”

You turned to open the door and Jake slid in front of you, worry creasing his handsome face.

He reached out to gather you in his arms and you visibly flinched. Jake’s face fell.

“Baby,” he murmured and you gave him a tight smile, reaching out to grab the door handle, pulling it open forcefully.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll call you.”

And then you disappeared out the door, leaving him in stunned silence in your wake.

***

Two days passed with you dodging Jake’s evening calls, sending follow up texts to let him know that you were working late and didn’t have time to chat. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You were working, but from the comfort of your couch, laptop warm on the TV tray you had spread across your lap.

On day three, Jake left a voicemail when you didn’t immediately answer the phone. Your hands shook as you lifted your phone to listen.

Hey baby. I know something is going on. I thought we were on the same page the other night, but I must have done something wrong. Whatever it is, we can work through it. I meant it when I said I love you. That hasn’t changed. Call me when you’re ready. I love you, Natalie. Talk to you soon.

His message was so genuine it made you sob, curled in a ball on the couch. You had already started mourning him in your head, even though you loved him.

You weren't ready to lose him. But you were afraid you already had.

***

“She obviously regrets saying she loved me,” Jake said, lifting the paper coffee cup to his mouth.

Rooster sat across from him at the cafeteria table, picking at a scone on top of a waxy brown paper bag. He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

“It’s been four days,” he replied. “She hasn’t answered a single call, just texts me back after I call her with an excuse about why she didn't pick up.”

“Have you tried to see her?”

“No, she’s avoiding me.”

“Maybe she’s just busy,” Rooster said, crinkling the corner of his pastry bag. “Nix and I can babysit tonight if you want to go over and talk to her.”

“Really?” Jake sighed. “That would be awesome, thank you.”

Bradley jiggled his leg under the table. “She seems like a nice girl,” he said after a moment. “But are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?” Jake looked up with hard eyes.

Rooster simply shook his head. “I’m just thinking, if you saying I love you is enough to make her run, is she really the kind of girl you want helping to raise Ellie?”

Jake stood up, snatching his empty coffee cup into his hands. “She’s absolutely the person I want raising Ellie beside me. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I know what I’m thinking. I love her. I’m going to do whatever I can to keep her.”

***

You had ordered enough Chinese food to feed an entire elementary school class. So when the doorbell rang, you swung the door open without bothering to look through the peephole, already counting out a cash tip by the time your eyes lifted and you saw Jake staring back at you.

“Hey honey,” he said sweetly and you smiled automatically despite yourself.

“Jake. Hi.” You were awkward.

He shifted his weight, still standing on the other side of the door frame. “Sorry to just show up, but I was hoping we could talk.”

“Um,” you looked at your phone. The food was coming any minute. You couldn’t keep brushing him off. “Sure, come in.”

Jake’s fingers grazed your sweater-covered arm as he slipped past you into the hallway and you shut the door, wandering back to the couch that you had just vacated, clearing room for Jake on the opposite end.

“What’s up?” you asked innocently.

Jake gave you a sad smile. “Honey, we both know you’ve been avoiding me since the weekend.”

You couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t true.

He sighed. “I just want to know what I did so I can fix it,” he said quietly. Jake leaned forward, taking your hands into his large, warm ones. “Nat, sweetheart. What did I do?”

His green eyes were like two daggers staring into your soul. You had spent four days weighing your options of how to play the situation out.

But in the end, it was easier to tell the truth. “You called me Lizzie,” you whispered and you watched as Jake’s jaw dropped. “The night I stayed at your house. While we were sleeping, you rolled over and called me Lizzie.”

Jake was stunned. He pressed his hands against his face, dragging them down over his forehead and eyes and cheeks before looking back up and shaking his head. “Fuck, Nat. I’m sorry. Honey, I am so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You could feel the prick of tears in the back of your eyes, that soreness building in your throat as you tried to choke them down. “Because I feel like I don’t have the right to be upset about it.”

“You absolutely have the right to be upset about it,” he said instantly. “Natalie, I’m so sorry, but you have to know that I wasn’t awake when that happened. I would never consciously do that to you.”

You shook your head. “No, I know that. Of course I know that. But it doesn’t negate the fact that maybe you’re not ready to move on.”

“That’s not true.” His voice was thin, barely a whisper.

“Jake,” you said and your voice cracked on his name. “I don’t know how to do this. Date a widower. At first I thought Ellie was the big hurdle in our relationship but she really isn’t. Ellie is amazing and sweet and even though I was never a kid person before I met her, I really think I could be a part of her life if you let me.” You had to choke back a sob, and in front of you Jake’s eyes were slowly turning glassy. “It took me a minute to realize that our bigger issue is the fact that I’m not sure you’re really ready to be in a relationship.”

“But I am,” he said and you heard the pain laced through his words, the slow and deliberate way that he replied. Like he was trying not to dissolve into tears. “Nat, sweetheart, trust me when I say that I want to be with you.”

“Do you know what it’s like comparing yourself to someone every step of the way?” you asked softly. “I’m competing with a ghost, Jake. A perfect ghost. Lizzie was the love of your life and Ellie’s mom. I can never fill those shoes, even if I wanted to.”

Jake lurched forward, pulling you onto his lap, your arms automatically winding themselves around his neck. He brushed a chunk of hair from your face where it had fallen out of your low bun, and then let his thumb linger over your lips before moving down your jaw. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to try. Lizzie’s gone. I loved her, and a part of me is always going to love her. She was my wife. She is Ellie’s mom. But you can’t spend your entire life in mourning. She loved us so much, and she would have wanted us to be happy. Honey, you make me happy. I’m not looking for someone to replace Lizzie in our lives. I’m not looking for someone to swoop in and be my wife or be Ellie’s mom. I fell in love with you for who you are. I brought you into our lives because I wanted you. Not because I’m looking for a replacement for something that I’ve lost. So don’t let yourself think that you’re competing with a ghost. We’re not holding you to any standards or making comparisons. You’re perfect the way you are, sweetheart. I love you for exactly who you are.”

Jake’s voice cracked at the end, and you leaned forward, pressing your chest against his, feeling his arms wind around you and tug you in tighter as you sat straddled on his lap. Jake’s fingers ran gently over your back, caressing you lovingly, and you felt tears softly soak the shoulder of his shirt where you laid your head.

“Honey,” he whispered, fingers still tracing up and down the length of your spine. “Come back to me. Please. I can’t lose you.”

You pulled back, placing one hand on each side of his face. “You’re not going to lose me. If it’s me that you want, then I’m right here.”

***

You spent the night at Jake’s on Friday after going to see a movie with him and Ellie.

Ellie had held your hand as you walked down the street to the theater. Later, when Jake put her to bed she requested that the two of you read her a bedtime story so the three of you had huddled onto her little pink bed and read a book together.

Jake had kissed her forehead and you tiptoed out of her room, shutting the door softly.

In the kitchen, Jake poured two glasses of wine and leaned over the granite island, taking one of your hands into his. “Are you OK?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked. “Please?”

You had simply let Jake take your hand, lead you to the bedroom, help you strip off your clothes and settle into the fluffy bed. He held you in his arms, whispering praise into your ear as his fingers slid down your body, landing between your legs. Within minutes, Jake’s thumb circling your clit, index and middle finger thrusting inside of you, you were cumming on his hand, moaning softly into the pillow as Jake murmured, “That’s my girl. Such a sweet girl, cumming on my fingers like that. Such a perfect honey, I love to hear you moaning for me. You're so perfect, baby.”

Afterward, Jake pulled you in close, your back pressed flush against his chest, one large hand spread over your stomach as his chin hooked on your shoulder. His lips brushed your temple and as you drifted off to sleep you felt Jake squeeze you in tighter, his husky voice delicate in your ear.

“I love you, Natalie. So damn much. Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re mine. I love you, honey. Now go to sleep.”

His words made warmth spread through your chest, but there was still a nagging feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere in the dark recesses of your gut was a voice telling you not to get too comfortable.

That Jake, for all of his handsomeness and intelligence and maturity, still didn’t realize what he was signing up for. What he was asking of you.

You were still worried that everything the two of you had carefully constructed sat on a ledge, just waiting to shatter.

Tag list: @double-j @seresinhangmanjake @topguncultleader @hangmandruigandmav @momc95 @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite @brehonodea @crthurston @angelbabyange @jason-toddsthighs @secretsicanthideanymore @taytaylala12 @mandylove1000 @mizzzpink @showmethewayhomehoney @tvjunkie08 @mygyn @wkndwlff @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @starrynightskyz @daddymack01 @buxkybarnez @pookie-cleary @clairedelarosa-blog @princessofglitterland @tiredqueen73 @lovingjakeseresin @lilyevanswhore @kurtkunkle17 @amortentiadrops @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @xoxabs88xox @novagreen04 @townmoondaltwistle @rosiahills22 @indynerdgirl @entertainmentgal8 @misshoneypaper @starkleila @ebonyhogan24 @rosewritesitout @sammysimpin @khaylin27 @localhockeygirl @eyesthatroll @wildxwidow @wildlyobserving @bellaireland1981 @wittywhispers-blog @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @oiseul @showmethewayhomehoney @callsign-joyride @teacupsandtopgun @jordanturpen @sexytholland @daddymack01 @pookie-cleary @eternalsams @djs8891

#jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin smut #my girl #hangman series #series

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celastapasta · 13 days

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I made some JJK OCs 👉👈 Here's the picrew I used because I can't draw for shit

Name: Hamada Umeko

Age: 22

Pronouns: She/her

Rank: Semi Grade 1 Sorcerer

Cursed Technique: Camouflage. Her cursed energy can take on the appearance of her surroundings, shifting in real time as she moves - making her effectively invisible to the naked eye. She can also imbue objects with her cursed energy to give them the same properties.

Fun Facts:

• Umeko's CT is effective when against normal humans or negligent sorcerers, but once someone looks for residuals she's like a big red target through infrared. Therefore she has a pact that dampens her cursed energy output so she can remain almost completely undetected, but renders her incapable of imbuing her physical attacks with cursed energy while invisible. This makes her incredibly disadvantaged at close range, but makes her invisible to nearly all sorcerers other than very observant ones - namely Gojo Satoru.

• Due to the nature of her pact, her preferred combat style is through imbuing kunai with her cursed energy, making them invisible, then attacking from the shadows. Her talents are mostly relegated to intelligence gathering.

• She's dating Ino :)

• Umeko graduated from the Tokyo school and was a year above Ino

• A huge fan of fighting games - she's won a couple of local tourneys but has never pursued anything higher (she mains Ken in SF and Sin in GG)

• She puts candy canes in her hot chocolate

• She gives off major older sister energy. Is also incredibly supportive towards anyone the second they mention wanting to do something. Wanna pass a test? You've got this! Wanna ask someone out? Do you need a wingman? Need to hide a body? She'll grab a shovel (and then hit you over the head with it afterwards bc wtf were you thinking)

• Can and will carry Ino over her shoulder.

Name: Fujimoto Eiko

Age: 31

Pronouns: He/they

Rank: Grade 2 Curse User

Cursed Technique: Sleep Touch. Anyone he touches will be immediately lulled to sleep and will not wake up until he wills it. They are in tune with a small swarm of moth shikigami, which carry out their CT whenever they land on someone. The effectiveness of the sleep state depends on how much stronger they are compared to their target - ranging from the previously stated scenario, their target waking up sometime before they wish it, to various states of drowsiness.

Fun Facts:

• Eiko's body takes on characteristics of his shikigami when he channels them - namely fuzzy, glowing antennae and swirling blue patterns on his face and arms.

• His moth shikigami glow an electric teal color.

• They are a thief, and use their CT to steal things undetected. Normal humans have no resistance to their CT, so they stick to petty crimes and reselling what they stole online. He's sometimes commissioned to steal cursed weapons/objects, but he rarely takes these jobs and only if he knows said objects/weapons aren't already registered with jujutsu high. He's abysmal at fighting and does not want to run into someone that can resist his technique.

• Eiko has a fairly sizable aquarium at his house and is quietly passionate about it. It is very well maintained.

• Their favorite food is takoyaki.

• They work at a suit/tailor shop.

• They're rather antisocial, only interacting with family on holidays and don't let anyone get past the social rank of "co-worker."

• He would rather not admit he's fond of Noriaki, his "handler" for heists that involve curses.

Name: Nishio Asahi

Age: 287

Pronouns: She/her, but doesn't really care

Rank: Grade 1 Incarnated Curse User

Cursed Technique: Matchbox. By creating friction between her body and something else (such as snapping or dragging her foot on the ground), she can spark her cursed energy into a flame. She can then manipulate said flame however she wishes.

Fun Facts:

• Was a sorcerer of the Edo period, same as Kashimo. However they were not alive at the same time.

• Possessing the body of Sasaki Daigo.

• She was a scribe for a noble house, and met and made a deal with Kenjaku while they both served under said house. Kenjaku was in the body of a lady-in-waiting at the time, and was usually the most entertaining thing happening in Asahi's life. Kenny helped her get the hang of her CT when they would sneak off late at night to practice. There never really was any need for them to actually fight, which they found rather disappointing, so Kenjaku promised they could truly reach their potential in a few centuries if they made a pact together.

• A chronic girl kisser

• Always has the need to be doing something, especially now that she's incarnated and is not restrained by the rules and etiquette that come with serving a noble family.

• He's found a particular interest in gummy candy.

• She's hoping to run into Kenjaku during the culling games. (She's doing fairly decently in it - having 55 points).

• All of Asahi's manors come from etiquette training and necessity. She's actually a total dick. Really the only servant who liked her in her original period was Kenjaku because they thought she was funny. They would often gossip together and snicker in the corner like high school girls.

Name: Sasuki Daigo

Age: 25

Pronouns: He/him

Rank: Non-sorcerer

Fun Facts:

• Daigo is currently being possessed by Asahi. While not a sorcerer, he could perceive cursed spirits and therefore has not died now that Asahi is incarnated. He does not have the capabilities of being an active vessel, however, and is effectively in a coma.

• He was a barista at a coffee shop for much longer than he wanted to be. He'd dropped out of college because he couldn't keep paying for it, and had since gotten stuck there.

• He is a major boyfailure. Asahi enjoys the novelty of being in a male body, but 100% would make fun of Daigo if he were conscious to hear it.

• He naturally has blue eyes, but they were turned purple once possessed by Asahi.

Name: Koyama Sugi

Age: 15

Pronouns: She/her

Rank: Grade 4 1st year

Cursed Technique: Hallucinations. She turns her cursed energy into a mist which causes hallucinations for anyone around. She doesn't decide what people see, and the experience can range from slightly disorienting to an acid trip - thought the latter is a much rarer experience and usually only happens to non-sorcerers.

Fun Facts:

• Sugi is the second first year at Kyoto Tech.

• Her family is the major reason she's studying to be a sorcerer. She's incredibly timid and dislikes what her CT does to people. She would rather be a manager or window, or preferably a regular person. Utahime convinced her to stay at least as long as it takes to control her CT so she doesn't accidentally effect normal people.

• She was mistreated as a child by non-sorcerers due to them believing she was cursed, and her family didn't like how she wouldn't stand up for herself.

• Sugi likes to listen to music on cassette tapes. Her favorite song right now is Mr. Blue Sky.

• She loves both spicy and sour foods, and is a little competitive about eating them.

• She's good friends with Nitta and Miwa, and has a bit of a sibling-like relationship with Noritoshi. She's scared of the other Kyoto students.

• Can't stand scary movies.

#i finally finished making profiles for my blorbs #jujutsu kaisen #my ocs

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filmofhybe · 5 months

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A better Christmas

💌 pairing : Yang jungwon x oc 🎞️ GENRE : fluff , costumer x barista 800 wc

Warning : jungwon just went through a break up on Christmas.

Masterlist to my other works

Jungwon stepped into the warm glow of Y/N's cafe, the chill warm colored Christmas night clinging to him like a shadow. The bell above the door chimed softly as he entered, drawing Y/N's attention from behind the counter. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, there was a silent understanding. Well was be going to be happy after his girl- I mean ex girlfriend broke up with him ok Christmas Day.

Y/n sensed the heaviness in Jungwon's demeanor, the weight of a recent breakup etched across his face, she could tell every costumers story just by looking at their face. It was Christmas Day, a time when joy should abound, even during the day time many lovely people filled the café, but for him, she could tell he was having a lonely night. She decided to be the warmth he needed.

As the last customer, Jungwon took a seat by the window, his gaze lost in the swirling snow outside. Y/n, compassionate and perceptive, prepared a comforting cup of hot chocolate. The steam curled into the air, a tangible reassurance that some warmth remained in the world.

Setting the cup before him, Y/N spoke gently, "I hope this warms you up a little. Christmas can be tough sometimes."

Jungwon managed a faint smile, appreciating the genuine concern in her eyes. The warmth of the hot chocolate seeped into his cold soul as he touches the delicate mug, providing solace even if just for a moment. Y/n continued with her duties, but her attention lingered on him, sensing the need for more than just a beverage.

After a while, Y/N decided to close up the shop, realizing the solitude Jungwon faced and how he was very much still in his thoughts. As she locked the door, she invited him to join her at a nearby table. "You don't have to be alone tonight. Sometimes sharing the pain makes it a little easier to bear."

They sat in the dimly lit cafe, the Christmas lights casting a soft glow. “She broke up with me..” that’s what jungwon said, as he looks up to y/n, a gorgeous yet beautiful and kind women that just made his Christmas a little bit better by listened to him pouring his his heart out, the wounds of a broken relationship still raw. She offered words of comfort and understanding, a soothing balm to his wounded spirit. “I know it hurts to separate with your ex partner in such a special day, but trust me your worth more than her.”

As the night wore on, Y/N's compassionate presence became a source of solace for Jungwon. The weight on his shoulders seemed to lift, if only slightly. He realized that in the midst of heartbreak, a connection had blossomed – an unexpected friendship that held the promise of healing. Jungwon smiling from time to time at her lovely stories. His dimple showing and for once, someone noticed how adorable it was - and it was y/n.

When it was time for Jungwon to leave, Y/n walked him to the bus stop. The snowfall had intensified, creating a serene backdrop to their parting. Before boarding his bus, Jungwon turned to her with gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you for being there tonight. You made a difficult day a little easier to bear," he said, his voice carrying a newfound warmth.

Y/n smiled, "You're always welcome here. Take care, and remember, you're not alone." She said as she waved good bye to him, continue to walk back to her apartment down the road.

In the following days, Jungwon found himself drawn to y/n’s cafe like a moth to a flame. He sought refuge in the familiarity of her company, finding comfort in the simple moments they shared. Y/n with her empathetic nature, welcomed him without judgment, understanding the fragility of healing hearts.

Their conversations ranged from lighthearted banter to the depths of their personal experiences. Y/n became a confidante, and Jungwon, in turn, offered his support and friendship. The cafe transformed into a sanctuary for both, a place where the wounds of the past could be acknowledged and, eventually, mended.

As weeks turned into months, the pain that once gripped Jungwon began to loosen its hold. Y/n’s kindness and companionship played a crucial role in his healing process. The bond they forged over shared stories and laughter grew stronger with each passing day.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jungwon looked at Y/N with a genuine smile. "You know, you've been my saving grace. I can't thank you enough." Y/N chuckled, "We all need someone to lean on. I'm just glad I could be that someone for you."

Their friendship deepened, transcending the initial connection formed on that lonely Christmas night. Jungwon continued to visit the cafe, not out of a lingering sadness, but because he found solace in the warmth of y/n’s presence. The cafe, once a refuge in times of sorrow, became a symbol of newfound joy and a better Christmas for the both.

#kflixnet #k lables #k neighborhood #k films #🥥 하이브의 영화 #⛸️*.❅·🧣⋆ 24 days of christmas with filmofhybe #enhypen jungwon #jungwon imagines #jungwon fluff #yang jungwon x y/n #jungwon x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #kpop fanfic

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google-searchhistory-official · 4 months

Text

OC I need to draw.

Bunnygirl named Hazel. She's made of chocolate and has a bite taken out of one of her ears, which one is hard to tell as they are obviously fused together as most chocolate bunnies tend to be. She could have a swirl pattern with white chocolate! Ooo, her kisses could taste like caramel because that's what her insides would be made of!

I want more suggestions for her tho.

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bratshaws · 8 months

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through the hourglass 239. brb x oc

a/n:just a cute moment...and then,well,WELL (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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/210/211/212/213/214/215/216/217/218/219/220/221/222/223/224

/225/226/227/228/229/230/231/232/233/234/235/236/237/238

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca

Sunday was the final day that the girls would stay at their house, and Beatrice was still asleep. Why? Because Bradley decided to leave her there that morning, they were going to go to the hospital later that day - after Leo picked the girls up - and now he was busy.

Busy preparing them breakfast.

It was such a throwback of that Christmas when he prepared Bianca pancakes, the first Christmas he enjoyed with the Schiavoni and the first Christmas that…well…he had a very,very good gift. He licks his fingers clean of the batter as he flicks the whisk inside, smacking his lips and arching his brows at the taste.

The girls were all busy watching tv, well,most of them. Bianca’s little form appeared next to him, peeking towards the bowl, “...are you making pancakes?”

“Yes,ma’am.”

She gasped in delight, “Really? Like the ones you prepared when I was a kid?” and she looked around for the chocolate chips, letting out a quiet ‘yes!’ before grabbing it, “Can I put it in now?”

Rooster chuckled at Bianca's enthusiasm, still mixing the batter. "Of course, kiddo," he said with a grin, tilting the bowl towards her. "Go ahead and sprinkle them in."

Bianca carefully poured the chocolate chips into the pancake batter, her eyes lighting up as she watched them swirl into the mixture, only to pour a ‘little bit more’ inside - not that he complained. "That looks so good!”

Rooster couldn't agree more. "It does, are your sister and your little cousin okay?”

Bianca nodded enthusiastically, her smile radiant. "Yeah! Éowyn is watching tv and Nikki is on Jack.” she says,”Sitting on his back, watching tv too.” she watches as he mixes a bit more before pouring it on the hot griddle, “Oooohhh…”

“Cool,right?”

“Yes.” she says, “I like fire.”

He pauses, blinking at that sentence and trying his best to ignore how weirdly worrisome that was, choosing to say something else instead, “Well, good. I’ll make sure to bring the pancakes to y’all once I’m done.” he says, then turns his head towards Bibi who was still standing there, “You can go back,honey.”

Bianca nodded and flashed Rooster a sweet smile before scampering back to the living room to rejoin her sister and cousin. Rooster couldn't help but smile as he watched her go. She was growing up so fast, and soon Nicole was going to be that size.

…maybe not so fast,he hoped.

He poured it once again onto the hot griddle, creating round circles of goodness that sizzled as they cooked. The scent of pancakes filled the air, and Rooster couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia.

This, also helped his mind relax. He wasn’t going to keep the Haltons in his mind like this, not anymore. He sent everyone a message, they didn’t know much about him but were clearly interested.

The clicking of claws followed by the soft pitter patter of a known pair of feet made him smile without even turning around, “Mornin’ gorgeous.” her arms wrap around him from behind, her soft cheek between his shoulder blades, “Slept well?”

“Hmmmm…’ Beatrice hummed, grinning against his skin, “Smells good…”

“The pancakes?”

Her smile widens, inhaling his scent through his night shirt, “That too.”

“Cheeky.” he smiles, flipping the pancakes, “But you didn’t say if you slept well or not,babe.”

"I slept well," Beatrice replied, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest, her position still the same. "But waking up to the smell of pancakes? That's even better." she kisses his nape by standing on her tiptoes, walking around him and gasping when she notices her mug on the counter, already filled with her morning tea, “Aw,Roos.”

Rooster chuckled, turning to face Beatrice, leaning his weight on his arm as he looks at her "I thought you might want some tea," he said, his voice soft and affectionate. "I didn't want you to miss out on the delicious pancakes."

Beatrice leaned in and planted a sweet kiss on Rooster's lips. "You're the best," she said, her eyes filled with adoration. "Thank you for always taking care of us."

Rooster smiled, his heart warmed by her words. "It's my pleasure, babe. I love taking care of my girls." and he winks, then looks back over the griddle to check how the pancakes were doing, “The girls are watching tv.”

She hums with the mug’s rim on her lips, closing her eyes blissfully because he even knew the amount of sugar she liked. God she loved this man so much. “Hmmm, figures. I thought they were,Nikki sin’t hungry?”

“She’s honestly too busy watching a chimpanzee doctor traveling through the jungle.” he shrugs, “So I guess not yet.”

“Right…and you,Roos?” she smiles, “How did you sleep?”

Rooster's smile softened as he looked into Beatrice's eyes. The early morning light filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on her face,making the green of her irises almost turn lighter once it was illuminated. He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek.

"I slept pretty well," he admitted, his voice filled with affection. "There was a beautiful woman sleeping next to me."

Beatrice's heart swelled with love for her husband. She set her tea aside and moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek as she pressed her forehead against his chest.

"You are so sweet, Roos," she whispered, her words muffled by his shirt.

Rooster tightened his embrace, his arms encircling her as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. His lips lingered there for a moment, a silent affirmation of his love.

"I try." he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You and the girls are my everything."

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, their own little cocoon.Eventually, they pulled away from each other, though their hands remained entwined. Rooster turned his attention back to the griddle, where he had been expertly cooking a stack of pancakes. He flipped the last pancake onto a plate and handed it to Beatrice with a grin.

“Chocolate chip?” she smiles, “What’s the occasion?”

“I just want to pamper you.”Rooster winked at Beatrice as he continued to work his pancake magic on the griddle. "And every day is an occasion to pamper you," he replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. She just stands there, looking bashfully at him with her cheeks glowing red. He couldn’t help but squeeze her cheeks with one hand and press a noisy kiss to her lips,”Fuck you are so cute!”

She blushes even more, letting him kiss her a few more times before his attention returned to the pancakes, “...I mean,I’m not complaining,Roos.” she shrugs, “I’m glad you are okay.I know yesterday was…a bit tense, with the Haltons and all.”

Rooster nodded as he carefully plated a few more pancakes. "Yeah, it was a bit weird," he admitted. "But I don't want to let them bother us.They already did more than enough.” he arches his brows once he was done, “Besides,I messaged the guys and they’ll keep an eye out as they see them.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know how they can be,” he mutters, “Very…gossip oriented.” Rooster finished cooking the last pancake and finally set everything up for the girls. "So, what's on the agenda for today, babe?"

Beatrice took a bite of her chocolate chip pancake, savoring the sweet burst of flavor. "Well," she began, "Besides visiting the twins at the NICU? I dunno,I might want to…stay home a bit, you know?"

Rooster's eyes lit up at the idea. "That sounds perfect," he said, “Honestly,I’d love to just stay home, doing nothing.” he murmurs, walking to the living room and looking back at Beatrice, “Help me with the girls?”

Beatrice smiled and nodded, setting her plate aside and following Rooster to the living room. The girls were engrossed in a cartoon on TV, their little faces filled with wonder and delight. Nicole, in particular, was giggling at the colorful characters dancing across the screen. The dogs were busy lying around them, Jack was already asleep, Jolene was being used as a pillow by Bianca and Éowyn was holding against Eleanor who was just watching the TV like the.

Bianca was the first to notice them, immediately sitting on her knees with a gasp, “Is it ready?” she leapt out of the couch before her uncle and aunt could say anything, feet thudding on the floor and a loud ‘YES!’ leaving her mouth, followed by the scraping of a chair.

Rooster just sighed, picking Nicole up from Jack’s back while Beatrice picked Éowyn, carrying the two towards the kitchen where Bianca was already.

Rooster and Beatrice shared a knowing look as soon as they saw Bianca wiggling on her chair, too excited to keep herself still. Her excitement was palpable.

Especially because she was looking at those pancakes like it was the last supper.

Rooster carefully placedNicole, into her high chair, making sure to secure the straps to keep her safe and comfortable. On the other side of the table, Beatrice did the same for Éowyn, but instead of a high chair, she was on a normal one instead.

Bianca looked up at Rooster with her bright eyes shining like stars. "Uncle Rooster,” she holds up her plate, almost vibrating with excitement, “Please! Please!” and she moves the plate even more, “I want the one with most chocolate.”

Rooster couldn't help but chuckle at her excitement, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Alright,alright,calm down,kiddo.”

Beatrice smiles, about to sit down only for her to hear her phone in the living room, “Oh,” she laughs, “Be right back,Roos. It’s probably Leo,I’ll be right back, can you-” she gestures to the three girls and her husband nods with a small smirk, making Beatrice leave the kitchen with a sigh of relief.

Jolene was staring at Beatrice’s phone, it hasn’t stopped ringing and the pittie only looked away when the brunette quickly picked it up, “Hello?”

“Daarling.”

“Marcus!Hi! Good morning.”

“Indeed it is.” she hears him moving around in his studio “Darling,I know we talked a few weeks before and I know it is sunday but…are you busy today?”

Beatrice leaned against the wall in the living room, crossing one arm under her bust. "Not too busy at all," she replied with a smile. "Rooster and I were just planning on spending a relaxing day at home. Why? What's up?"

"Well, I have an idea," he began. "I’ve drawn some amazing pieces and I need my muse to help me with them.”

Beatrice blinked,”Oh? Really?”

The fashion designer sighs dramatically on the other end, “Yes,Oh I was hit by the creative bug these days, I don’t know what happened.” but he probably knew what happened “And now,here I am, seeing my work on mannequins and thinking…hmmm..Beatrice would be much better!”

Beatrice couldn't help but laugh at Marcus's enthusiasm. "You're too kind, Marcus," she replied with a warm smile. "I'd love to help you with your new designs. But…well,we’ll see the twins at the NICU and we can’t leave Nikki here,alone.”

Marcus let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, darling,I promise it won't take up your entire day. Just a few hours, and then you can return to your relaxation. Besides, you can bring your little one over. We’d love to have her.”

“Wait,really?”

Marcus sounded delighted. "Of course, you know how much I adore your little family, that included the little ones.” he pauses “Oh!Yes, there’s also something else I want to tell you.”

Beatrice's curiosity piqued at Marcus's mysterious tone. "Something else?" she inquired, her brow furrowing slightly. "You've got my attention now, Marcus."

The fashion designer chuckled playfully. "Ah, the intrigue!" he said, teasingly. "Well, darling, I'll tell you when you get here. It's better to see it in person."

Beatrice blinked only to laugh along with him. "Alright, Marcus,fine, you've got yourself a deal," she agreed. "We'll head over to your studio later this afternoon,is that alright?”

"Perfect, darling," Marcus replied. "I can't wait to see you and your little one. And you're a lifesaver for helping me with this."

"You know I'm always happy to help, Marcus," Beatrice said sincerely. "We'll see you soon!"

With that, they said their goodbyes, and Beatrice returned to the kitchen where Rooster was busy feeding the girls. Bianca, in particular, was still enthusiastically devouring her pancakes, each bite filled with chocolate chips, cheeks completely covered.

Beatrice grinned at the sight, "Looks like someone's enjoying breakfast," she commented as she approached the table.

"You could say that," he replied. "I think she's on her third pancake already."

Bianca, her mouth still partially full of pancake, nodded vigorously in agreement.

Beatrice playfully ruffled Bianca's hair. "Alright, little one, don't eat too fast," she advised. "We don't want you getting a tummy ache." she sits down next to Rooster, smiling when he pulls the chair for her.

Bianca swallowed her bite and grinned up at Beatrice. "I'm okay, Auntie Bea," she assured, her chocolate-streaked face lighting up with joy. "These pancakes are so yummy!"

She smiled affectionately at her niece's enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like them," she said, taking a seat next to Rooster. "And thank you for helping with the girls, Roos."

Rooster reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No problem, babe," he said. "Who was on the phone?"

Beatrice's smile turned a bit mischievous as she leaned in closer to Rooster, her voice low and playful. "Oh, just Marcus," she whispered, cutting the side of her pancake - the one he already put on her plate with a heart made out of maple syrup. "He needs my help with something today."

Rooster raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh for the uhhh,collection?”

“I’m not sure if it is for the collection. Just some modeling for his new designs," she replied, bringing a piece to her mouth "He said we can go there after seeing the twins and after the girls go home."

Rooster chuckled, leaning on his open palm"Well, I guess I can share you with Marcus for a few hours." he pauses, “Does he still have that couch there?”

“I think so.”

“Oh, that’s a nice couch, great to sleep in.” her husband comments, “While you are busy,me and Nikki can nap there, you know?”

Beatrice chuckled at Rooster's comment. "That couch is pretty comfy," she admitted, "And as long as Nikki behaves and takes her nap."

Rooster nodded in agreement. "She's been a good girl so far," he said, reaching over to gently tickle Nikki, who was sitting in her high chair. The baby giggled and babbled in response, her tiny hands reaching out toward Rooster,holding onto his finger.

Bianca, meanwhile, was finishing up her pancakes and eagerly to ask what the conversation was about. "Auntie Bea," she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity, "What kind of clothes does Marcus make?"

Beatrice smiled at her niece's question. "Marcus is a fashion designer," she explained. "He creates beautiful clothes that people wear to special events, like parties and fashion shows. He designs dresses, suits, and all sorts of stylish outfits."

Bianca's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oooohhh that sounds amazing!" she exclaimed. "Did he create your wedding gown?”

Beatrice shook her head. "No, but it was his friend."

“Do you think he can make something for me?”

Beatrice opens her mouth, then closes, “Well…I can talk to him.” but she had to be careful, if her siblings found out about it, they’d then ask for more stuff from Marcus. She knew they would, “But he’s a busy guy, I can’t promise it,Bibi.”

Bianca nodded, too excited to show any sort of disappointment. "That's okay, Auntie Bea," she said cheerfully. "I know he must be super busy making amazing clothes for lots of people. Like you!"

Beatrice couldn't help but smile at Bianca's understanding. "You're absolutely right," she said. "But who knows, maybe one day he'll create a special outfit just for you. Maybe for your birthday-"

“Oh!Like a Venom dress!”Bianca's eyes sparkled with excitement. "That would be so cool!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air, eyes wide, “With threads to be like the symbiote!”

“Yep, sounds fun, cutie.” Beatrice smiles, then looks down at her hands once Bianca goes back to her breakfast, “You won’t be upset there,right?” she asks Rooster quietly, “I know you’ve been there with me before but,I just want to make sure you’ll have a nice time there.”

Rooster gave her a little smirk ,”Gorgeous.” he says, “Come on, I love going out with you, trying on clothes,”he lowers his voice, dropping his voice a bit, “See how they fit on you and how nice they look.” her gentle swat on his thigh was just something he laughed at, playfully pinching her hip, “Relax,gorgeous, it’ll be alright.”

Anything to keep their minds at ease to be honest.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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crowtrobotx · 4 months

Text

A small Christmas gift for @vodkafolie who is AMAZING and always drawing such beautiful things that I can never repay because toddlers with chewed up crayons put me to shame. But I can write stupid little unfunny drabbles - I hope you enjoy your little Across the Heisenverse gift! ❤️ I am smashing our OCs together like Barbie dolls and making them be friends. 😤

(Hazel and Toast belong to Vodka, Lottie and Kris belong to me)

Title: Metal & Ginger

Words: 1742

Warnings: None unless you’re not cool with cursing

(Apologies for any weird formatting, I am on mobile and fighting for my life)

“Are they still having a go at it out there?”

“Yep. Looks like my Karl took a snowball to the face… yours lost his hat somewhere. Haven’t killed each other yet, though.”

“Think we should intervene?”

“Nope.”

“Good - me neither.”

Kris smirked and turned away from the frosty kitchen window, fresh coffee in one hand and tea in the other. Hazel sat cross legged on the living room floor, roaring fire to her back, lightly biting her tongue as her focus returned to the task at hand: the already huge and growing larger by the second gingerbread house occupying half of the coffee table. She was so engrossed in perfecting the details of the immaculate candy garden she’d made that Kris had half a mind to offer her a spare pair of tweezers to help ensure not a single sprinkle was out of place. It was a damn shame that the thing would be eaten and destroyed within seconds of the Karls returning.

The Karls. Kris shuddered. It was a horrifying phrase, one that had Hazel not been present to corral her own diabolically insane engineer might have finally sent Kris to the loony farm. Kris had grown so used to totally unhinged happenings that when, earlier that same morning, she’d stepped outside to see if Karl was done in the garage and ready for the Mom Mandated Family Holiday Activity Day only to find a swirling dimensional portal in her backyard along with a slightly differently dressed Heisenberg swearing at the top of his lungs and a very exhausted woman holding an overly perturbed chicken, she’d barely reacted. She only rolled her eyes and gestured for the woman to come inside from the cold with her bird, leaving the two men to hurl accusations at one another over whose experiment exactly had gone wrong and who exactly was responsible for the tear in time and space that would surely have the city sending them a strongly worded letter.

And here they were, several hours later, having a fine time, thank you very much.

“Lottie, bug, are you sure you don’t want any more hot chocolate?” Kris turned her attention to her nearby daughter once she’d settled down comfortably on the floor across from Hazel.

Lottie, positioned at the head of the coffee table, only shook her head. She was staring with a sort of frenzied, wide eyed fascination at the chicken, who sat puffed up behind the gingerbread house like an overly critical construction overseer. Pinky the rat peeked out of her overalls pocket, content to mindlessly chew on his hard boiled egg snack - something that Kris was almost certain had come from the bowl in the fridge labeled “for Christmas - DO NOT EAT,” but that was a battle she simply did not have the energy for today.

Hazel paused her meticulous sugar powdering along the candy floss hedges to lay a gentle hand on Lottie’s shoulder. Kris found herself admiring the floral embroidery on her jacket again, wondering when the best time to unleash the full madness of her own fiber art habit on her new friend might be and how many extra sweaters and scarves she could convince the woman to leave with.

“Lottie, I’m sorry, this must be very strange for you. Seeing your Papa argue with his, er…. clone. I promise they’ll get it sorted soon and this will all just be a funny memory.”

At last, Lottie seemed to snap from her poultry hypnosis and looked at Hazel with a sort of profound confusion. “It’s not weird,” she insisted. “Papa fights people all the time. He fought the neighbor because he brought Mama some soup when she was sick. He fought the grocery store cashier because he said Mama’s outfit was nice. He tried to fight the mailman last week because he waved at Mama too long while walking by—“

“OKAY,” Kris slapped her knees. “I really should get back to decorating the little gingerbread occupants, don’t you think? What’s the point of a house with no one to live in it, after all.”

Hazel sat back, either used to her own Karl’s overprotective nature or wisely choosing to stay out of it. She’d only just began to pick up where she’d left off before groaning in exasperation.

“Well, there goes the shed roof again… pass the piping bag, would you, Kris?”

“Sure - here you go. I suspect I might know the culprit behind your architectural woes, though.”

Hazel nodded knowingly before throwing an accusatory glance at Toast, whose beak was suspiciously speckled with gingerbread crumbs. The bird looked rather proud of herself, an expression that - had Kris not known better - said ‘and I’d do it again.’

Moments passed before there was more shouting from outside, the two men clearly no closer to resolving their issues.

“Well you’re the one who fucked it up! You figure it out!”

“Me!? How do we know it wasn’t your dumbass who forgot to tighten a bolt somewhere?”

Hazel and Kris exchanged withering glances, but said nothing.

Lottie, after carefully setting Pinky and his egg on Karl’s recliner, crawled forward to inspect Kris’s work so far on the gingerbread people. There were five - one to represent each human occupant and guest. Fortunately, Kris had baked extra in the event of a mishap - though, the mishap she’d anticipated was “Karl ate three of them before they even got around to decorating” and not “the convergence of two universes occurring on the lawn at 10am.” She was working on her cookie self now, carefully piping her curls and debating how much of her sleeve tattoo she wanted to portray.

“You know what’d be fun?” Lottie poked her head under Kris’s arm, putting on her best innocent child eyes. “If we all made each other. Like, I’ll make Papa, the other Papa can make Miss Chicken—“

“Her name is Hazel, honey,” Kris interjected. Hazel mumbled a hasty it’s fine, I can be Miss Chicken before Lottie continued, unbothered.

“—you’ll make me, and Papa can make you!”

“That’s a sweet idea, bug. But unfortunately Papa is banned from depicting me in any art form after an incident that happened when we tried this before you were born.”

Hazel looked up and met Kris’s eyes. “Don’t tell me - he went into, ah… way too much detail?”

Kris’s shoulders slouched in defeat. “Anatomically correct gumdrop boobs, I’m afraid.”

Hazel nodded knowingly.

The side door of the house banged open suddenly as Kris’s Karl stormed in first, followed closely by Hazel’s. They looked like two alley cats who’d gotten in a tussle, but at least less manic than before. Hazel sat up expectantly.

“Did you get it figured out?”

“Yeah,” her Karl threw an accusatory glare at Kris’s. “But the damn thing needs to reboot which will take at least another hour. Then we can get out of this weird hell hole - the fuck you say this place was called?”

“Ohio,” Kris’s Karl snarled in barely concealed annoyance.

“Well. We’re not in any hurry,” Hazel called, before patting the empty pillows to her left. “Why don’t you two come and help us finish this?

The two men glared at one another - Kris wouldn’t have been surprised at this point if they’d stuck their tongues out, frankly - before stalking over to the living room and plopping down, both no doubt ready to start eating their partners’ hard work before it was done.

Lottie scrambled into her father’s lap and excitedly began pointing out the parts she’d made, while Toast - who had been leaning ever close to the delicious shed again, neck extended to a near comical degree - suddenly clucked in fury and leapt off the table to situate herself between her own Karl and Hazel in a sort of avian Make Room for Jesus gesture. Predictably, Hazel had to immediately slap her Karl’s hand away from disturbing the perfect M&M garden path she’d crafted.

“What the fuck’s the point of making it if we can’t eat it?”

“Didn’t say you can’t eat it, but you have to admire it first,” Hazel said indignantly.

“Well, how long I gotta look at it for?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m satisfied,” was all Hazel offered. She smirked at Kris who gave a wink in return - they each respected the particular variety of strength that was born from having to handle This Particular Man.

“Karl,” Kris turned to her own husband. “I didn’t get to finish the gingerbread garage on this side - why don’t you do the honors since it’s your favorite room? We can just take this part out here and—“

“That’s a load bearing wall, Mama” Lottie rolled her eyes in mock indignation. “You can’t just take it out.”

“Yeah! You tell her, Butterfly!” Kris’s Karl puffed his chest out with pride at his daughter’s engineering prowess. She shot him a furious look before he followed up with a hastily mumbled “s-sorry, babe.”

Toast clucked approvingly.

“You know,” Hazel ventured after a long pause. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the portal just… remained operational. It doesn’t have to be on all the time, but you never know when you might need to do some shopping… in a parallel reality.”

“I agree,” Kris said. “Or when you might need to borrow vegetables from… a very specific garden.”

“Or take a feral little child to the park together.”

“Or bitch over a warm beverage about whatever unholy fusion of human and machine your man concocted this time—“

“Are you two gonna kiss?”

If the look he’d gotten from Kris before could kill, her Karl was lucky this one didn’t erase him and his entire bloodline.

“Okay, we get it,” Hazel’s Karl grumbled finally. “As long as I don’t have to see him all the time - handsome fucker, though he is.”

“Indeed,” Kris’s Karl sniffed. “I suppose I can put aside your clearly inferior intelligence for my wife’s sake - call it Holiday Spirit. I’m feeling generous.”

“Well, isn’t that nice - too bad your genetics weren’t generous with brain power since it’s clearly your fault that the reactor blew—“

“Oh, here we go again! Trying to deflect from the fact that you admitted your motherboard was on the fritz—“

“I don’t like your beard.”

“It’s YOUR beard, jackass!”

Kris and Hazel met each other’s eyes before wordlessly and carefully sliding the gingerbread house to the other end of the table, resuming their task in blissful peace

“Merry Christmas, Hazel.”

“And you.”

#okay to reblog I just don’t know if this is too niche/specific for the main tags lol

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mamamittens · 8 months

Text

500+ follower event!

As decided by popular vote, a food themed ask box event!

Running from 9-12-23 to 9-19-23, hopefully the menu makes sense!

Milkshake themed!

Here’s our menu for the special 500+ follower event running from 9-12-23 to 9-19-23! To enter your order, just put it in my ask box! I may suspend the ask box if I get overwhelmed, but all asks put in during this time frame are eligible for this event.

Who can go on an order? Why, you and a character of your choice as long as they are +18. Please clarify if this is a character from a specific fandom, otherwise I will assume One Piece as that’s my most active fandom at this time.

For yourself, please include a short description for your pronouns (F!, M!, GN!, AFAB, and AMAB), appearance, style, and personality. I just need a reasonable amount of information to write your stand in with. If there’s a particular quirk or detail you want focus put on, please do include it!

If I’ve written for you before, an OC may go in your place! I’m sticking to just what’s in the ask box, so if you don’t include it, I won’t know!

All I ask is that you keep it relatively simple, polite, and short since I don’t know if there’s a character limit to the ask box. Should you need multiple asks, make it clear which are yours.

If you intend to ask for a +18 order (smut), I advise you to be at least 18 as I voluntarily flag all my +18 content. In this particular context, I especially need to know AFAB/AMAB so I may write appropriately.

Flavor – Universe

Vanilla – Canon

Chocolate – Modern

Toffee – coffee shop au

Vanilla swirl – Office au

Strawberry – Fantasy

Cake – royal au

Chunks – fantasy creature au (feel free to specify who is what)

Add ins – Relationship

Caramel syrup – Childhood friends

Chocolate syrup – Strangers

Strawberry syrup – Unbalanced relationship

Fruit – Arranged marriage

Gummy candy – Enemies to lovers

Cookies – Coworkers

Flambe (on fire) – Fling

Powdered sugar – One sided crush

Toppings – Reception?

Sprinkles – Nervous

Whip cream – Confident

Cherry – Sweet

Fries - Casual

Additional shots* - Get a room!

NSFW+18 ONLY

Alcoholic shots (kinks) to be added to your milkshake or your partners! Please phrase it as “shot of X for (A)/me” to identify who receives the act. There is no limit but bear in mind a complicated order could take much longer! And some shots may interact in unusual ways, so if you have a squick please bear that in mind.

To specifically request something not be present when it is otherwise implied, please ask “to hold X”.

White Russian – Creampie/Cum play

Hot Damn – Praise kink

Mind Eraser – Degradation

Afterburner – Choking/breathplay

Jell-o shot – Edging

Pineapple Upside Down Cake – Oral

Alice in Wonderland – Size Kink

Motor Oil – Marking

Kamikaze – Temperature play (Served hot or cold for temp preferences)

Jager Bomb – Rough Sex (Extra strong is hate sex)

Green Tea shot – Soft Sex

Pink Schnapps – Dom/Sub (The person receiving this shot will be designated the ‘Sub’)

Black Jack – Restraints

Brain Hemorrhage - Overstimulation

Special side treat (totally optional!)

Mochi Ice Cream – Yandere

Vanilla – Obsessive

Red bean – Possessive

Grean tea – Delusional

Strawberry – Protective

Coffee – Manipulative

An example of an order would be as follows:

“Hi! Doffy and I would like a strawberry cake milkshake with strawberry, caramel syrup and powdered sugar (for me!). Whip cream and a cherry on top, please! A red bean mochi would also be nice! Add in an Alice in wonderland, black jack (for me), pink schnapps (also me), and a hot damn too! I go by “Sky” and I’m a short but lanky guy (masc pronouns please) with black curls, tan skin, and dark eyes. I’m nervous and tend to freeze when shocked before rambling. I blush really easily too… unfortunately.”

#500 follower event #shake date #anime event #ask box event #one piece #I JUST REALIZED WHY THE UNIVERSE CHOICES SEEMED SO ODD #IT'S CAUSE TUMBLR DESTROYED THE FORMATTING #FOAMING AT THE MOUTH RIGHT NOW #FIXED-ISH #MODERN AND FANTASY NOW HAVE SUB CATEGORIES #SORT OF #RATHER THAN A LIST OF WEIRD AU CHOICES #I AM SO SORRY

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dropout-if · 8 months

Note

🤍 , 💭 THOUGHT BALLOON , 🚫 PROHIBITED , ☕️ HOT BEVERAGE, 🤔 THINKING FACE

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

Jade/Jean- aloof, cynical, reserved

Uma- indecisive, pessimistic, overthinker

Statler- overprotective, nosy, perfectionist

Wanda- blunt, over-optimistic, impatient

Kai- avoidant, impulsive, critical

Travis- competitive, stubborn, insensitive

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)?

(I only know about mbti btw kskskf)

Jade/Jean- ESTJ

Uma- ISFP

Statler- ENTJ

Wanda- ESFP

Kai- INTP

Travis- INTJ

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

Jade/Jean- used to smoke but has since quit for health reasons. They don't enjoy alcohol that much, minus wine on social occasions.

Uma- not a heavy drinker and prefer to keep their alcohol consumption moderate (social drinker). They don't like tobacco, but often smoke weed.

Statler- doesn't like neither drinking nor smoking.

Wanda- tries to keep her alcohol consumption to a minimum. She smokes sometimes.

Kai- drinks often (mostly at parties, and may drink a beer at home during their meals). They are a heavy smoker.

Travis- likes alcohol but doesn't drink often (only at parties). Doesn't like to smoke.

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?

Jade/Jean- obsessed with coffee. The more bitter the better. Occasionally, they might opt for an herbal tea, but coffee remains their top choice.

Uma- prefers green tea, often with a hint of honey for sweetness. They also enjoy milk-based beverages like lattes, and they might indulge in a chai latte or a matcha latte from time to time.

Statler- is a fan of herbal teas, particularly chamomile and mint.

Wanda- enjoys a good cup of hot cocoa with a generous swirl of whipped cream on top. She appreciates the warmth and sweetness of the drink. Occasionally, she might have a latte, but hot chocolate is her comfort drink.

Kai- chugs energy drink after energy drink. It's all they drink.

Travis- prefers water most of the time. Occasionally, he might have a simple cup of black coffee, but he avoids adding too much sugar or cream.

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

Jade/Jean- rubs the back of their neck when they're feeling awkward or uncomfortable in a social situation, offers a subtle, half-smile as acknowledgment or agreement during conversations, squints slightly and tilts their head when they're trying to analyze a situation or person.

Uma- plays with a small charm bracelet on their wrist as a soothing gesture when they're feeling stressed, gently touches their fingers to their lips while in thought or when they're about to share something personal, bites their lower lip when they're holding back strong emotions or trying to contain their enthusiasm.

Statler- traces patterns on surfaces with their fingertips when they're deep in thought or daydreaming, gazes off into the distance with a pensive expression during moments of reflection, glances downward and tucks their hair behind their ear when they're feeling bashful or vulnerable.

Wanda- runs a hand through her hair when frustrated or deep in thought, rests a hand on her chest when she's touched by someone's kindness or heartfelt words, raises an eyebrow playfully when someone makes a witty comment or tries to tease her.

Kai- leans against surfaces casually with their arms crossed when they're feeling relaxed or nonchalant, plays with their lighter when they're deep in thought, takes deep, contemplative breaths while gazing out into the distance during moments of introspection.

Travis- taps his fingers rhythmically on surfaces when he's restless or impatient, raises an eyebrow skeptically when someone says something questionable or absurd, chuckles softly and shakes his head in a "can't believe it" manner when someone does something amusing.

#dropout if #dropout #ask #ros #j gray #kai alofa #ask game #statler amani #travis camaro #uma bharat #wanda pavon

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