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silverthief · 1 year

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Apparently, Charmaine would have aspired to become some sort of music composer if she didn't choose the life of a criminal. Emphasis on the word aspiring because life is like a never-ending storm that keeps throwing obstacles at her.

What I am saying is that she - given her circumstances - probably wouldn't be able to pursue her passion to become a composer. She probably would have the talent, just not the time or finances to practice it. With all the wishful thinking, it would be nothing more than a simple pipe dream.

Because let's face it, Charmaine would be too busy keeping herself and her younger brother from succumbing to poverty. She would work as a server at a fine-dining restaurant. The hourly salary would be lousy - that's just how things work in that industry.

She would hate working as a server too. So. Fucking. Much. She would be standing on the sidelines, witnessing how these wealthy customers would allow themselves to indulge in luxury while appearing so elegantly ignorant of her private struggles.

Every day, she would function on a restricted amount of sleep and eat at odd hours. Clearly, she wasn't faring well, and none of these wealthy assholes seemed to ever care or notice. She would be seething, and there would be nothing she could do about it but follow the code of conduct - which was to put on a polite front.

She would hate overhearing how these rich people spoke so condescendingly about other people as if they were of a superior race themselves. Loathe how they always made extra requests and demands for their orders, because they could actually afford to be picky about their food, and she couldn't.

But just once a month, she was allowed to step onto the small podium stage to perform. It was the only reason she hadn't quit and found somewhere else to work (and who could she convince to hire her anyway?) She would perform every third Sunday evening of the month. This was usually when there would be the least amount of customers.

Charmaine would be her stage name. She would always wear the same pretty white cocktail dress that her mother used to own. While playing, she would close her eyes and let the music guide her mind to a place where any thoughts of fear, anger and sadness ceased to exist.

Truly, her performance would be nothing spectacular, but it didn't matter. Every concern she had in this universe would come to be drowned out by the tunes produced by her fingers dancing over the shaft of the instrument. If fate had granted her the opportunity, she would willingly have sacrificed a lifetime mastering that instrument.

And when Charmaine was done, she would never bow to the audience or thank them - not even after receiving applause. She'd simply step off the stage and leave without a word. She didn't care to pay such courtesies, because, after all, she didn't play for them. She played for herself.

#continuation of: what if char didn't become a thief?#can't decide which instrument bc i honestly love both #picked composer bc the other options were literally telephonist and plasterer lmao #it didn't occur to me that char had musical talent until the random job generator told me that's how it be #i already thought of a backstory :D #nothing wrong with the other two occupations i just have no idea what these jobs entail #headcanon #song: horizon - camo #not the song she's playing jsut what set the mood for writing

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aoksadhdbky · 1 year

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arabic kiss scene SFM This is how you make clementine cum Sassy darling Sophia Leone gets filled with pole Exposing ex girlfriend Hottie is on all fours when hot hunk bangs her doggy style deutsches Amateurteen auf der Couch gefickt Wife sucks cock on bavk porch Facial abuse she loves it Asian Cam Toiltet Peeing Adolescente culona cogida por su novio vergon

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xkolsgdstf · 1 year

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Little teen strip Dont Say You Love Me SHAUNDAM FACE FUCKS BBC LOVING SLUT WITH MASK ON Horny teen teases old chap by rubbing her enchanting pussy Busty MILF fucks hard with an Asian dude Public amateurs compilation slideshow Halle Von's Lesbian Licking Tango live la caballota Novinha pagando boquete gostoso Schiaffi sulle tette Perfect big boobs Thai girl on cam show

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hoosbandewan · 3 months

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THE Billy Taylor Post

I have a love/hate relationship with The Halcyon as a show overall. I don't feel like all of it is written well, but the area in which it definitely excels is Billy Taylor's story. You know, the cutie pie bellboy that Ewan plays and who is always bugging out in all of the gifs we make of him. He's young, he's sweet, and he's insanely adorable.

And his story is also the best in the entire show. In my opinion!!

I also cry whenever I think about Billy for too long but we'll get into that later, hehe.

Spoilers for The Halcyon, btw!

If you haven't seen it, The Halcyon is set at a fancy hotel in London just as WWII has come to Britain. Also, fair warning that this post is a little bit all over the place because I have SO MANY BILLY TAYLOR FEELS

At the start of the show, Billy is seventeen and working at The Halcyon as a bellboy. He's portrayed by Ewan as someone who's maybe a little bit... no thoughts, head empty. I jokingly refer to Billy as having big NPC energy when he's in the background of scenes because it looks like he has radio static going through his head whenever he's not being interacted with. And like to think that it's not because it was Ewan's first gig as an actor. I think Billy genuinely is a little bit daft. He's the baby himbo. He's the golden retriever puppy who isn't the smartest in the room but he makes up for it with hard work and dedication and pure sweetness.

I mean, he's only seventeen and he appears to be one of the higher ranking bellboys at the hotel. He's given important tasks like welcoming ~secret guests to the hotel, showing new hires where to go, and personally taking care of high ranking guests' belongings. He's clearly trusted by the management and is, more importantly, very good at his job.

But, bless his heart... Billy can be kind of a mess. He's forgetful and sometimes just plain thick. He loses the family dog of the lord and lady who own the hotel while taking it out for a walk. (Literally how does that happen. Billy.) He bungles the staff poker game by revealing his hand without realizing. He's also a silly little dumbass when he and a couple of the other hotel staff are at the movie theater and see the lady who owns the hotel (who's there on a !secret date) and he straight up points at her from several aisles back with his eyes all bugging out. Be more obvious, Billy!

Billy is young and naive and maybe not the smartest guy around, but you know what? He's good at what he does (most of the time, lol) and he's a damn hard worker.

He's also someone who knows that people are reluctant to believe in him and he clearly doesn't like that. Billy signs up to join the army the moment he turns eighteen and, although we don't see it, his mum Peggy (who works at the hotel as the telephonist aka switchboard operator) mentions to the hotel general manager that there was a bit of an argument between them over it.

“Do you know why he was so upset that I didn’t want him signing up? He thought I was saying he wasn’t good enough.”

He also gets angry with his mum when his call-up papers do arrive. I know I called him daft before, so I'm giving him credit where credit is due - he actually very cleverly notices that the letter should have gone to his family's house, but it showed up at the hotel instead. And, upon learning that he's been assigned to the Royal Artillery instead of what he wanted - the engineers - he knows it was his mum (with the help of the hotel general manager, but he doesn't know that part) who moved things around so that Billy could stay close to home.

He angrily tells her, "I ain't a child no more," and storms out of the room. Billy wants to prove himself. He wants to be a grown up with responsibilities and he wants to be believed in.

You feel for him, but you also feel for his mum, who is watching her only son grow up and enlist in the war effort. At one point, Peggy mentions that she was only 19 or 20 by the time she'd had Billy, so she was a young mother (and still is!). Her worrying and fretting over him clearly annoys him because he's a teenager, but, god you feel for her. We also learn that Billy's dad, Jim, was drafted to fight in the war so she must be out of her mind with worry. I'll get more into my Billy feels as related to his mum in a bit. But I mean... just look at this line of Peggy's after Billy's joined the army:

“I pray. I fuss. I hold him a little tighter each time I see him."

Before I move on, GOSH, Billy is such a teenager when it comes to his interactions with his mum, lol. He doesn't want her fussing over him or being affectionate. He shrugs her off when she tries to fix his collar. He's reluctant to let her kiss his cheek... but he lets her do it anyway, of course.

Speaking of his family, Billy's relationship with his little sister, Dora, is also so cute and I love them. She tells another character that she doesn't miss him once he's moved out to join the army because she thinks he's "annoying" but she really does love him, lbr. And he's clearly very close with her, too.

At one point, their family home is destroyed in the Blitz so Peggy and Dora move into The Halcyon for a while. Billy watches his sister on mornings that he can get away from his army duties. He carries her around piggyback style. He lets her wear his army hat. He calls her "squirt." They're freaking adorable.

There's also a cute little moment during one of the Blitz raids where Billy's mum and sister are in the hotel shelter and Dora is frightened. Her mum tells her to listen for the sounds of the artillery and says, “That’s our Billy. He’s protecting us.”

And he is. Billy is a protector. He's always looking out for the people he cares about. When Kate, the maid he has a crush on, is SA'd by the Count, Billy angrily confronts him and even points the Count's own fucking gun at him. AND HE PULLS THE TRIGGER. He was about to fucking murder this man for doing what he did to Kate!

Billy is a fucking real one. God, he's the best character.

I don't have anywhere specific to put this, but I wanted to mention how much I love the little detail the writers added in about Billy's handiness and interest in machinery:

He is seen chatting with one of the waiters about the guns they use in the war and is later able to correctly identify the type of German plane flying over the hotel.

Later on in the season, The Halcyon's general manager and head concierge are trying to fix the hotel generator and lamenting that Billy was the one who always maintained it before he left to join the army. (I will come back to this later because omg)

Billy himself mentions to his mum at one point that he's planning on helping a neighbor with some things she needs done in her shelter and that he expects it to be a quick job.

When he joins the army, he's put in charge of operating one of the anti-aircraft guns - directing his fellow soldiers and being the one to manually operate the machine itself.

Now that I think I've covered every other Billy feel, I have to talk about... the worst one. The saddest one. His death. /:

I don't know how to say this without sounding like a complete [Michael Gavey voice] loooser, but I can't really think about Billy and his story in this show for too long without... crying? Oof.

I think that's a testament to just how well written his storyline was in this show. They make you care so fucking much about this sweet, innocent, pure-hearted, good to a fault, daft, brave young man so much that, when he dies in the Blitz, it really fucking hurts.

I swear, thinking about Billy Taylor deals psychic damage to me every time.

And I think that, part of the reason that Billy's death hurts so much is because of how it's shown to us. We all know the famous orange scene between Billy and Kate so I'm sorry for ruining it by making it sad, lol. But that scene ends with Kate telling Billy that she'll meet him the next morning to share the orange with him. So when morning comes and the hotel staff are arriving and see Kate waiting impatiently for "someone" who hasn't arrived, your heart fucking sinks immediately.

They don't even tell us about Billy's death by showing Peggy learning of the news. We're told through Kate's POV. He doesn't show up to their meeting in the morning and, when she arrives for her shift, the staff has been gathered around by the general manager. Only then do we learn that Billy was killed by a parachute mine the night before. And we follow Kate to the same closet where Billy gave her the orange, where she's sobbing and cradling the fruit in her hands.

But what's even sadder is that Billy remains a presence throughout the rest of the show. You, as the viewer, grieve him alongside not only his family, but also the people who knew him and worked with him.

When the hotel loses power during a bombing one night and the general manager and head concierge are trying to fix the generator, they're lost for what to do and even lost for words because Billy was the one who always handled the generator. They end up fixing the thing by taking a wrench and banging the side of it because "That's what Billy used to do." And it works. The generator turns back on thanks to Billy. Thanks to the memory of him. And the concierge look up and says, "Clever lad," as though Billy can hear him.

Of course, Peggy spends the rest of the season grappling with the loss of Billy, too. The other characters mention more than once that she's "talking about Billy as though he's still here" and that it's worrying them. Eventually, the general manager sits down with her and she says that she does know he's gone but that it's so hard to believe because she wants to think that he could just walk through the door at any moment.

But, oh my god, the saddest moment of the show for me... is the moment when Peggy is walking through the hallway in the staff area of the hotel and she sees one of the bellboys walking towards her. He has his head down so his face is in shadow but he's about the same height as Billy... and you can see in Peggy's face that she's allowing herself - just for that one moment - to imagine that it's Billy. To let herself think that he's still alive. You're watching her process the scene before her and seeing her think, "Could it be him?" for those few seconds... until she sees the bellboy's face. And, oh my god, it absolutely wrecks me every single time.

Billy's death is the reason that Peggy gives up the one thing she has left - Dora - and sends her away to the countryside along with the other children who are being evacuated from London. Because she can't bear the thought of losing her last living child.

Billy is the character who shows the audience how cruel and unforgiving the war is. That it can take anyone, no matter how sweet and kind and young and good the person is.

And it illustrates the enormity of the chasm they leave behind.

Billy's loss is felt in everyone, from his family to the people he worked with to the girl he had a crush on. AND IT'S FELT IN ME, TOO, GODDAMN

This was so long and I may not have even touched upon all of my feels but thanks for coming to my Billy Taylor TED Talk. I fucking love him. The writers did an amazing job writing him. 10/10, no notes whatsoever. I cry every single time.

He's such an underrated Ewan character and, I know I haven't mentioned it much, but Ewan's portrayal of him is flawless. He's perfect at capturing all the silliness, daftness, and earnestness that makes up our sweet little Billy!

Tl;dr - Everyone should love Billy Taylor!

Aaaand here's another gif of our sweet boy to end this massive post:

#welcome to my billy taylor ted talk #this is a mixture of billy taylor observations #and billy taylor feels #this character deserves so so so much love #billy taylor #ewan mitchell #the halcyon

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inawearyworld · 4 months

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free if you truly wish to be: chapter v

the power of a found family heist saves the day (six of crows who??) (god these summaries have become rather unhinged over the course of this fic huh)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.3k

just wanted to say thank you to all you lovely people who've read and loved this fic! please lmk what you think, like reblog yadda yadda yadda. i'm euphrasiepontmercy on ao3 if you want to see any more of my near-embarrassingly escapist writing :) there will certainly be more wren coming in the form of playlists, pinterest boards, drawings, etc

so much love <3

part four fic masterlist

The next day, for half of a moment upon awakening, she thought the whole past month had been a dream. That she’d go on living in her unpierced golden cage, that there was nothing revealed and nothing to reveal, that things could be fine for a little while longer.

Then she heard the blaring vocal warmups of the comedian who lived down the hall.

…Okay, then.

It’s real.

She stayed up in Piper’s room, hoping to escape notice from the owners of the establishment, whom she’d never seen but hated due to their imprisonment of her friends. She’d warned them all the previous night that the Chocolate Cartel had seemed about to propose a surely sinister deal to Wonka-regrettably all but Noodle, who was asleep, and who she thought would probably take the hit the hardest, whatever hit that might be.

She wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Willy had wound up under the thumb of men who would gladly destroy him, the wash crew was nowhere near the freedom they deserved, and she herself was disgraced and thrown out by the only practical lifeline she’d had for two years, the man she’d thought she’d loved.

She realized, though, that the chain of actions that led to finally standing up to Felix was the first thing she’d done in two years that she didn’t regret.

That new sense of assurance, though, wouldn’t put any food on her family’s table.

Or her own.

And still, the thrumming in the back of her heart took the form of olive eyes, soft curls, and chocolate-dot freckles. How much danger was he in? Had he really lost all hope?

Was he even alive?

The only venture she’d made that morning was a careful one to Lottie’s room; the telephonist had snuck her a bit of gruel and told her she could borrow some of her clothes for the day. When she got back to Piper’s, she heard a large clank against the wall, and opened the window to investigate.

She was met with those same olive eyes, accompanied by a tired but teasing smile.

“We have really got to stop meeting like this.”

Relief flooded her so thoroughly that every rational thought momentarily disappeared, and suddenly Wren realized that she was kissing him.

And that he was kissing her back.

And that he was very precariously perched on a very tall ladder.

“I, ah…”

She trailed off, struck speechless by the haze in his expression that could be described in no way but adoring.

“You’re alive,” she breathed. “You’re here.”

“So are you.”

“And you feel the same way?”

“Very much so.”

Apparently unable to form any longer sentences, they fell into shaking, half-disbelieving laughter.

“Wrap it up, Romeo, a person can only keep this steady for so long,” came Piper’s voice from below, and Willy laughed again.

“Alright, I-well.”

“Yeah?”

She watched him run through the events of the past hours in his mind as he tried to sum it up, and he quickly shook his head.

“Come on down, we’ll all explain what happened. Then we need your help to rescue Noodle.”

And so they did. Once the whole crew had been informed of all that had happened, they planned and began to carry out their heist, and Wren-while still fully aware of the danger-allowed part of herself to be thrilled at finally having adventures with a found, created family like she’d read about all her life.

There were a few variables, of course-there was a plan for if Willy and Noodle were caught by the Cartel and a plan for if they weren’t, which, of course, they were. Wren flitted through various windows enough to throw a surely-still-reeling Felix slightly off his game, enough that he’d gladly drown his thoughts in the planted Hoverchocs. She also misdirected those who somehow weren’t distracted by the giraffe, allowing the Oompa-Loompa to enter the cathedral and do his part.

What she wasn’t expecting to do was help him to rescue the pair from death by chocolate.

She’d started to make her way out of the cathedral when she heard a shout of “thank you, little orange man!” from under the ground. Puzzled, she’d looked down to see a chocolate-drenched Noodle and Willy gasping for breath under a circle of glass and flooring as the brown liquid receded. She startled, then quickly came to her wits in time to break the surface and pull each of them through, all three falling into each other’s arms.

“What-”

“Oh, God-”

“What on earth-”

“Thanks, Wren-”

“What happened?”

“The plan,” Willy said, pausing to clear his throat of chocolate, “ran into a few setbacks.”

“I can see that.”

“But,” and here he reached into his vest to produce a large and somewhat soaked envelope, “I brought you this, from the vault.”

Wren opened it carefully to see that its contents were luckily mostly untouched by chocolate. Half of them she recognized as what she’d sent to her family, the things that Felix had withheld, but the rest of the envelopes were graced with her mom’s handwriting.

She’d thought she’d cried more in the past days than ever before, but apparently there were still plenty of tears left, and they all threatened to break loose upon that sight.

They’ve been writing to me all this time.

It was devastating and hopeful all at once. Her husband had spent two years keeping her from contacting her family and keeping them from the reassurance that she cared, but now that she had the letters, she could finally start to make things right.

Also in the massive envelope was a shinier letter, addressed to her from the city’s opera house, stating that a new artistic director had been hired: one who didn’t live in fear of the Cartel, had programmed Romeo et Juliette for the upcoming season, and wished nothing more than for Madame Fickelgruber to play the second title role. Not because of her association, not her relative fame, but her.

She hurriedly looked at the postage date; it wasn’t too late for her to write back and accept.

It’s not too late.

The thought, and its application to just about everything, filled her with light.

She didn’t know why Felix had kept all of this instead of throwing it out; possibly to feed his own ego, to know that his wife was in demand but he was the one that had her. Whatever it was, Willy had found the truth and held it even when he’d thought all was lost, and given it to her the moment he’d had the chance.

“And we found out why Slugworth was acting so weird,” Noodle said excitedly, still catching her breath. “We’re related, if you can believe it-but my parents really did care-and my mom, we-we found her!”

“Oh, Noodle, that’s wonderful,” she gasped, pulling the girl into a hug.

“Yeah, Willy managed to find her name in the ledger-but even after that, he kept looking around the vault until he found that envelope. Said it was for you-that we’d find your family, too.”

Tears brimmed in Wren’s eyes as she nodded to the girl with a smile of sweet solidarity. She then looked over to meet Willy’s gaze, more grateful than she’d ever been, and saw that he’d been watching her with a compassionate blend of sympathy and shared hope.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and kissed him again, heedless of the mess. “I know this will come as no surprise, but-”

“I taste like chocolate?”

“I could get used to it.”

“Okay, WE GET IT,” came Noodle’s laugh, “you like each other, it finally happened, hallelujah. Now-look!”

They all turned to the door to see the unmistakable silhouettes of the Cartel, and Willy grinned. It was time for the final phase of their plan.

The three misfits helped each other off the ground and made their way to the cathedral’s entrance, just in time to hear Prodnose’s “in which they died” followed by the men’s laughter.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

All heads turned at his voice, and Wren grinned to see all three chocolatiers pale at the sight of them.

“Wonka!” shouted Slugworth.

“Florence,” formed Fickelgruber.

“What?” piped Prodnose.

“Officer, would you kindly take a look at this?”

Willy handed the ledger he’d held to Officer Affable, and Noodle smiled as she stepped forward.

“It details every single illegal payment these men have ever made. Thousands of them.”

“Affable, don’t listen to her. She’s lying,” the Chief said, but Affable had already opened the ledger.

“Well, of course she is,” said Slugworth, his clear nervousness betraying him. Wren smirked and looked back to Affable.

“She’s not, sir. She’s absolutely right, it’s…incredible.”

The Chief blinked, then tried as he might to take back control.

“Oh. Well. Then it sounds like a case for the Chief of Police. Give it to me, Affable, I’ll take it from here.”

“I can’t do that, I’m afraid, sir.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because your name’s written down here, sir. A lot. Gentlemen, you’re under arrest,” he said, addressing the Cartel with the latter statement.

Slugworth nodded slightly, his eyes widening, and barely turned to his colleagues when he spoke to them.

“Run.”

And run they did, but they didn’t get far. Gasps went up in the crowd as the Chocolate Cartel took to the air once again, and the other trio strolled down to the base of the fountain.

“Wha-what’s happening,” Slugworth cried, “why are we airborne?”

“You didn’t eat any of those chocolates, did you, Mr. Slugworth?” Willy asked, knowing full well that he’d won.

God, certainty looked good on him.

“Why?”

“Because they’re Hoverchocs! Delayed action. But extra strong.”

“Florence!-” Felix called, the adrenaline of flight having pitched his voice up nearly an octave as he grabbed onto Prodnose’s leg with one hand and reached to her with the other. “Just forget it all, my pet, I’ll forgive you in time, don’t worry, we’ll get rid of him again and all will be well-”

He always was one for the dramatics.

And that’s something I can easily match.

She looked straight at him, made a show of removing her wedding ring, held it aloft until it glinted in the sun, and let it go, allowing it to tumble through the air and land directly on the edge of a convenient storm drain.

Felix let out a strangled gasp, his eyes not on her but rather trailing the expensive ring as it fell. From his vantage point, it was gone forever in that drain, and she was happy to let him believe that; she’d pick it up later and send it to her family.

Though, perhaps, with her dream off to a real start, she’d finally be able to make her own way in the world and help to support her family on her own accord.

That thought was sweeter than any amount of candy.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Wonka?” Slugworth was saying. He went on to rattle off assurances on how the Cartel could still defeat him, a frantic gloat of their societal power over him, but Wren barely heard it; she was becoming progressively more distracted by Willy’s slight and slowly growing smirk.

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

Then, with something close to darkness, he looked up at them through the chocolate that framed his eyelashes, and Wren thought for a moment that she might faint.

Noodle gave her signal, the ground started to rattle, and Wren’s heart beat faster and faster.

No going back now.

She took a last look at Felix, feeling strangely sorry for him despite herself. In another world, perhaps, he could have been given the space to regard his humble past without shame, could have used it to become a more compassionate person.

Then she reminded herself that, in this world, he had tried to kill two people and had possibly already killed many more, spent his life prioritizing appearance over literally anything else, lied to her countless times, and allowed his chocolate monopoly to uphold an elitist society.

And this world was the one she lived in.

And this world was the one in which the frozen fountain burst with chocolate, rocketing the three men who’d clung to it up and out until they were sailing through the sky.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen!” Willy was calling to them. “You’ll come down eventually, I think. Probably.”

He then turned to her and whispered, “they will.” Through all of this, he still refused to completely harm anyone. The bare minimum, perhaps, but more compassion than the Cartel would have faced opposite any other foe. She smiled and squeezed his hand in silent thanks.

With that, he threw a few ingredients into the chocolate fountain, causing it to sparkle as it never had before, and invited the crowd to enjoy.

As the wash crew came together in relief and celebration, Wren realized that the teasing phrase she’d spoken earlier had more meaning than she’d originally known.

She could indeed get used to this.

Not too much of a time later, that same group stood in that same town square on those same cathedral steps, but there was something different in the air.

The Cartel had indeed come safely down from the skies after a few hours on that fateful day, and had promptly been arrested by the newly appointed and much more just Chief Affable of Police. There was more color in the town, more music; everything had seemed a bit lighter, or maybe that was just how it felt to be genuinely living in love.

Because now, Wren Matterson was able to write back and forth with her family again. Now, she was in rehearsals for a role she adored. Now, she was coming into a state of self-empowerment unlike anything she’d ever known. Now, she spent time not perched restless on a fainting couch, but laughing with and learning from a better group of friends than she ever could have imagined, and had even worked together to reunite one of them with her own mom, which they were just about to do.

And right now, in this very moment, Willy Wonka, with tears of grateful closure in his eyes, carefully broke apart his mother’s last chocolate bar, handing a piece of it to each of these dear, dear friends. He then looked to Wren with an expression she was still bowled over by every time, and reached into his pocket.

With a soft but sparkling smile, he opened his hand to reveal an emerald-wrapped, heart-shaped almond milk chocolate.

So, no, Wren Matterson was no longer fine. She was so much better than fine.

She was free.

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

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shhtickerbook · 6 days

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Iced Chocolate

chapter four

very quick messy sketch heh. chapter 4 is up under the cut and AO3 c:

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

Noodle had been up at dawn as usual. Unlike the other staff of the washhouse who got to have an extra hour of rest before beginning a shift, she had to be up just before sunrise to start deliveries of the previous day’s laundry. Whilst they had been able to slip away unnoticed during the day, Noodle still had to upkeep her morning deliveries regardless. Unless they somehow managed to train Tiddles to go out make deliveries himself.

After drudging through the show with the now empty cart, she tiredly dragged it behind her and through the doors into the washhouse. Noodle was surprised to see only Larry and Lottie at work, her other three friends visibly missing. Lottie smiled kindly at her arrival, holding up a steaming mug.

“Noodle! I made your usual for you.”

She presented the mug, which was filled with a hot malt drink, perfect for coming back in from the cold. Lottie always made her a fresh cup of something hot when she returned from deliveries. Noodle warmed her hands against the mug before taking a deep swig. The girl surveyed the room again, frowning.

“Where is everybody? And how’s Willy-?”

She’d been fretting all night about him, still unable to believe just how stupid he was in the first place to walk across thin ice. Even with the assurance from Abacus the night before, she couldn’t help but worry. Lottie laid a hand on the girls shoulder reassuringly, interrupting her spiral.

“Abacus and Piper are upstairs with him, now don’t panic. But Mr Wonka is a bit poorly, the icy water must’ve shot his immune system pretty hard. He had quite a high fever.”

Lottie explained, sitting down to rest her arm over Noodle. Who seemed more concerned for her friend, draining the rest of the mug quickly before rising up. The idea of someone such as Willy Wonka being sick just seemed completely outrageous, he was just the kind of person you couldn’t imagine being frail and unwell.

“I’m gonna go see him-“

Larry looked over at Lottie, who had forgotten one important detail about the chocolatiers current state of mind. The telephonist catching up to the girl before she raced up the stairs. Noodle had been made aware of Willys headspace situation beforehand, but only really once briefly. At first she hadn’t exactly understood it, finding it a rather strange. But after a long talk with Abacus, he managed to wrap her head around the whole situation.

“Noodle wait- before you head up. Willy is feeling a little younger than usual. Yknow like how we explained?”

Noodle paused for a moment upon hearing it, but then shrugged her shoulders. Noodle hadn’t been with Willy that often when he was “small” as they said. But from the sounds of things, he was probably feeling pretty sick right now and likely needed the support.

“That’s Okay, don’t worry”

She smiled before turning on heel to ascend the staircase. Determined to check on her closest friend and brother figure.

With the help from Piper yet again, Willy had been successfully delivered back up to his room. The bed had been completely stripped of its soiled sheets and replaced with fresh white linen. Poking its head from underneath the sheet, sat the orange knitted beak of Chester. Willy quickly picking him up to hold close, his glass eyes pressing an imprint onto his cheek.

Although the bath certainly made him feel fresher, his head still felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool. Standing up just made him feel woozy. When climbing back into the bed, he noticed that a towel had been tucked over the mattress tactfully. At first feeling mortified at what it’s presence clearly implied, but realistically it was probably for the best. The combination of the cool silk pyjamas and clean sheets felt heavenly when he lay back down, Abacus folding the blanket over him once settled.

“There we go lad, much more comfortable i’d say”

Willy dozily nodded, realising he was feeling much smaller now that he was tucked in. Outside the weather had become even fiercer, the blizzard building stronger. The thin glass pane of his window rattling from the wind, Abacus sighing at the poor stability of everything in this terrible excuse for accommodation. Maybe Wonka’s mad ideas of his dream store could truly happen, get them all out of this dreaded place.

Willy smacked his lips for a moment, realising how thirsty he felt. His sore throat still left that foul taste in his mouth, and he was eager to get rid of it. Although in the time it had taken for him to be delivered back up into the room, his headspace had slipped even smaller. The words he wanted to say were there, but it felt as if they were far away, too distant to try and verbalise them.

So instead he weakly pointed towards the sink in his room, grunting a little bit to get attention.

“Hm? What’s the matter?”

Abacus queried, watching in mild amusement as the boy pointed towards the basin. Willy making a grabbing motion with his hands, miming holding something. Thankfully Abacus quickly connected the dots of his request.

“Oh you’re thirsty, of course”

The man got up to fill up a glass, before offering it to the boy. Yet again similarly to the night before, Willys hold on the glass was shaky as best. Willy held it in both hands as he took a sip, but with his quivering grasp the water spilled down the sides and onto his chest. The cold water feeling very uncomfortable as he very nearly dropped it all over himself.

“Oh dear, allow me”

So once more Abacus reached out to hold the cup in place, whilst Willy eagerly gulped down the liquid. Although it didn’t taste very good, as it had quite a strong metallic aftertaste to it. The accountant couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression as he drained the glass.

“I think we’re going to have to consider some alternatives to this lad, certainly a bit too wobbly for a glass just yet”

He spoke fondly, Willy feeling a little embarrassed. He wasn’t wrong though, all his motor functions seemed to be playing against him at the moment. So he just shrugged with a mumble, lying back into the bed once satisfied. Abacus gently laid a hand to his forehead to check his temperature, which was still pretty warm. Wonka certainly seemed very quiet, Abacus noticing how he was choosing to gesture and mumble rather than speak. As he was the person whom Willy was most often regressed around, Abacus had taken many a mental note on his different mannerisms depending on just how little he was feeling.

The combination of illness seemed to slip him even younger it seemed, as this was the first time he’d gone so nonverbal.

“Still a little hot, I may nip down into town and pick up some medicine if it doesn’t come down soon.”

Willy frowned at the idea, highly doubting the idea that this medicine would taste very good. A knock then arrived at the door, Willy lifting his head up from the pillow in interest, before thumping it back down in exhaustion.

“Hey it’s just me, can I come in?”

It was Noodle, her voice sounding kind but concerned. She’s bumped into Piper on the way up, who had filled her in on how crappy he was feeling right now. On the other side of the door, Abacus turned to Willy to check on him.

“Is that alright?”

Willy thought for a moment, he knew that Noodle was aware of his headspace now. But there still was that mild anxiety, Noodle was like his little sister. He kept her safe, looked out for her. He wasn’t sure if it was okay for that role to swap over, especially when she relied on him.

But after a long conversation with Abacus and himself, she assured him that it was okay. She wanted to be there for him. So Willy gave Abacus the nod, who called out to her.

“Come on in Noodle.”

The door creaked open and Noodle stepped inside, smiling fondly when seeing Willy tucked inside the bed. It was funny how his tall lanky frame managed to look so tiny in that bed. Willy tried to sit up straight in bed, although it made his head throb again. He tucked his stuffed toucan under the sheet self consciously, poor Chester giving a silent imaginary squawk of indignity.

Even though he felt dreadfully small, there was still that anxious part of him that wanted to seem big for Noodles sake. The girl in question just scoffed at his weak attempt to seem fine when it was extremely evident he wasn’t, perching on the end of his bed with a grin.

“Willy, you don’t need to pretend. I know you’re a baby right now”

Even Abacus couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the blunt comment, before attempting to cover it up with a very fake sounding cough. Willy looked up in complete outrage, scowling at them both rather adorably.

“Nuh a baby..”

He mumbled, still struggling with his words. But Noodles comment had pulled him from his silence, who just laughed in response. Finding his face truly priceless.

“Really? Coulda fooled me.”

Willy frowned at her teasing before giving her a small smile, it was relieving that she still treated him like usual. One thing he was worried about with Noodle knowing, was if it changed the way she saw him, treated him awkwardly or acted unnaturally. But it was clear she was still the same old snarky teenager he loved.

Abacus decided to take the opportunity to get up, deciding to allow the two some quality time whilst he attempted to sneak into town to pick up some things. Not before gently stroking back Willys damp curls tenderly.

“I best head out and pick you up some medicine young man, but I trust Noodle to keep you in check. I don’t suppose that Benz may come check up soon too.”

Willy nodded, only feeling a little apprehensive. Abacus had been caring for him all morning and him leaving did make him feel a little anxious. But when Noodle reached out and squeezed his hand, he couldn’t feel any safer.

“I’m usually the one keeping him out of trouble regardless Abacus, if it weren’t for me he’d be inside a tigers belly right now- or frozen in the bottom of that lake”

She pointed out knowingly, eyebrow raised cheekily, Wonkas cheeks burning scarlet. Nearly got eaten by a tiger actually. The accountant closed the door gently behind him as he left, knowing that Noodle would keep a good eye on him. Noodle scooted further up the bed, lifting a hand to feel his forehead. Abacus wasn’t wrong, he certainly had a temperature.

“You’re such an idiot y’know, you’re lucky you got away with just a bad fever. If you weren’t careful you could’ve added to the number of skeletons at the bottom of that lake.”

She wriggled her fingers in a spooky way, Willys eyes widening in alarm. Noodle having momentarily forgotten that he was feeling younger than usual. Probably not the best time to make jokes in that manner, backtracking her statement.

“Hey but uh- you’re okay! I was just joking about the skeletons- I think. You’re just lucky you had your sis Noodle looking after ya, as always.”

The word slipped from her mouth without realising, although the pair shared an obvious sibling-like connection with eachother. Neither of them had verbalised it yet, until of course that very moment. Noodle felt her cheeks burning, panicking incase she’d overstepped. Yet Willys eyes shone like stars at the sentence, weakly reaching out to hold her hand with a small grin.

“Sister…”

He mumbled , squeezing her hand in his. Noodle met his eyes and smiled too, there was something different about him like this. Even through his obvious illness, his eyes sparkled with a childlike optimism, innocence. For the first time she really understood and saw the younger headspace he was in.

“Yeah, but more like big sister i think at the moment. Figures though, how many times have I saved your butt now?”

She chuckled, wondering what on earth would’ve happened to the poor chocolatier if she hadn’t met him. She noticed how his eyelids were beginning to flutter, the boy yawning as he rubbed his eyes sleepily. He’d only been awake a few hours but was somehow just as exhausted as when he spent all day out in town selling chocolate.

“You need some sleep.”

She firmly stated, Willy feeling too weak to argue on the matter. Noodle pulled the blanket further up his frame, finding the small knitted Toucan sprawled out and tangled in the mattress.

“Cant forget this lil guy.”

She manipulated his floppy wings up and down to mimic flight as she handed him over. Willy accepting the little bird and tucking him under his chin like always did, breathing in his faint cocoa scent. As noodle lifted the blanket to tuck it over his shoulder, he turned over before she could fold it, holding it open.

“Stay?”

He looked up with the most manipulative puppy dog eyes, mot wanting to be alone right now. Especially with how little he was feeling. Noodle chuffed in amusement, biting her lip as she considered it. She’d been up since dawn and was in-fact feeling pretty beat herself.

In defeat with a shrug and a chuckle, she began to unlace her boots. Willy managing one of his signature grins, soon enough he felt Noodle join him under the sheets in the small single bed. But somehow they managed to fit inside comfortably, Noodle linking her free hand with his once tucked underneath the sheets. Both holding onto eachother for warmth in the chilly room.

Cuddled up beside her brother, Noodle couldn’t quite remember the last time she felt so safe, as did Willy. Both pseudosiblings embracing close before they soon both fell fast asleep in each other’s hold.

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scotianostra · 1 month

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11th March 1932 saw the birth of Binkie Stuart, the child film actress, in Kilmarnock.

Born Elizabeth Alison Fraser in Kilmarnock, to a musician father and actress mother, the blonde youngster was named "London's Most Beautiful Baby" at the age of two. After she won first prize in a Daily Mail competition in 1935, her father became her full-time manager and arranged for her to audition for film director Monty Banks, who wanted a child for his next film, a George Formby vehicle, Keep Your Seats Please.

The child's character was called "Binkie" in the film, and the name was appropriated for the young star, who was billed as "Binkie Stuart" he surname coming from her Scottish ancestry.

The movie's musical highlight was Formby's rendition of his famous hit, "When I'm Cleaning Windows". Stuart did a short table-top version of "I'm on the Tip of my Toes" which was strained and tentative, and all her major lines of dialogue were filmed in isolated close-up. The producer Basil Dean had tried to dissuade Banks from using her, maintaining that she was too young but, despite her obvious inexperience, her winsome personality and cute smile endeared her to audiences. Other minor films followed, but none of note

Until Stuart's biggest role in My Irish Molly, the last film made by Maureen O'Hara before her departure to the United States. As an orphan mistreated (yet again) by a domineering aunt, Stuart stole the film, described by one critic as "a Shirley Temple flick without Temple", but the advent of war prevented a planned trip to Hollywood and her film career came to an abrupt halt. Later there was some friction with her father when she rejected his plans for her to become a variety performer on the music-hall stage, insisting instead that she would become a dramatic actress.

She worked as a dental receptionist and, after a further unsuccessful attempt to become an actress in her mid-twenties, she became an assistant in an electrical store, where she met her husband John Prentice. The couple had three children, and Prentice died in 1980, after which Alison Prentice, as she had become, worked as a telephonist and a nurse.

She died on 15th August 2001, aged 69, it’s a shame there are no pics of her when she was older, and had World War Two not got in the way, who knows how she would have got on in Hollywood?

#scotland #scottish #history #child actress #actress

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stairnaheireann · 3 months

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#OTD in 1973 – A car bomb exploded in Sackville Place, Dublin, and killed one person and injured 17 others.

At 3:08pm, a male caller rang the telephone exchange in Exchequer Street, Dublin, with the following bomb warning: “Listen love, there is a bomb in O’Connell Street at the Bridge”. Although the call was placed from a coin box in the Dublin area, the exact location was never determined. The telephonist immediately contacted the Garda Síochána. The streets of central Dublin were more crowded than…

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#Dublin #Dublin Bombing #Ireland #Loyalist paramilitary organisations #Northern Ireland #O&039;Connell Street #Sackville Place

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friedhen · 6 months

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The Telephonist.

Nonsensical facts about this phone guy:

Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face Face face face face face face face face…

That’s weird, but it’s truthful.

#original character #oc #ocs #my art #doodle #original art

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eretzyisrael · 10 months

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Why is Avi Shlaim recycling ‘Baghdad bombings’ theory?

Why is Oxford professor Avi Shlaim blaming Zionist agents for forcing the Jews out of Iraq with a series of bombings? The answer lies in his new childhood memoir, argues Lyn Julius in The Jewish Chronicle:

Avi Shlaim, a professor of history at Oxford, has been no stranger to controversy, attracting criticism from his fellow academics.

Benny Morris has called Shlaim “sloppy”, and slammed his work for “one-sidedness and plain unfairness.”

Now in retirement, Shlaim has just published Three Worlds: Memoir of an Arab-Jew. This is a personal account of his childhood and teenage years straddling three worlds: Iraq, where he was born, Israel where his family resettled, and the UK, where he has lived since 1966.

Aged five, his was a brutal uprooting from a comfortable Baghdad mansion with servants. At a time of rising antisemitism during the 1948 war with Israel, the family fled Iraq to begin new lives in Israel. His father, a prosperous importer of building materials with influential Muslim friends, was completely undone by the move and his much younger wife, once a society hostess, was forced to work as a telephonist.

The marriage broke down. Young Avi brought his emotional baggage to his Jewish school in London, where a friend testifies to the fact he smuggled in non-kosher burgers to spite the headmaster.

During his academic career, Shlaim became more and more stridently anti-Israel. Today he calls it a “colonial settler state”, even though Mizrahi Jewish communities, now comprising over half of Israel’s Jews, predated the Arab conquest and Islam by 1,000 years or more.

The “Arab-Jew” of the title will raise a few eyebrows: the expression is used by some anti-Zionists who deny Jews from Arab countries a separate identity.

But the plaudits have been flowing from reviewers’ pens for Avi Shlaim’s new book. Eugene Rogan, author of “The Arabs” called it the best book he had read all year.

Max Hastings had this to say in the Sunday Times: “This remarkable upside-down tale… A personal story, not a polemic… provocative… His personal odyssey confers on Shlaim an exceptional authority for his words; he can say things that others of us cannot… his thesis deserves to be considered with respect.”

The thesis in question is that “the Zionists” planted bombs in Baghdad to help eradicate the presence of Jews in Iraq. “The shocking truth about the Baghdad bombings of 1950 -51” blares the title of a review by Justin Marozzi in The Spectator.

But Shlaim’s theory is far from conclusive. The only fatal bombing took place in January 1951 (six weeks before the deadline for legal Jewish emigration from Iraq was due to expire) in the Massouda Shemtob synagogue, then being used by “the Zionists” as a registration centre for departing Jews. Three of the five bombs were planted three months after the emigration deadline had passed and caused no casualties.

It is a mystery why “the Zionists” might have thought it necessary to bomb the synagogue when, by late 1950 a backlog of 80,000 Jews, who had already registered to leave for Israel, were stranded in Iraq. Indeed, the Iraqi government toyed with the idea of dumping these Jews on Israel’s border with Jordan or in the Kuwaiti desert because Israel was not shipping them out fast enough.

All the evidence for the bombings points to the nationalist Istiqlal party as the culprit. An Istiqlal member confessed to an Iraqi historian, Shamel Abdul Kader, that he planted the first bomb in April 1950. The Israeli new historian Tom Segev produced evidence blaming the synagogue bombing on Iraqi nationalists.

Iraqi Jews already had reason enough to seek a haven in Israel – rising pro-Nazi sentiment, the memory of a vicious Baghdad pogrom in 1941, the execution of the wealthy non-Zionist Shafik Ades in 1948, arrests, extortion, racist laws persecuting and dispossessing them. A vibrant community of 150,000 is now reduced to three Jews.

But Shlaim claims there was no antisemitism in Iraq until the Iraqis ‘turned on the Jews’ for their alleged complicity with the British invasion of 1941 and the foundation of Israel.

It is a travesty that Shlaim should not only fail to blame Arab regimes for the mass ethnic cleansing of their Jewish citizens, but that his reputation as an Oxford academic should lend ‘exceptional authority’ and respectability to these highly controversial claims,

What lies behind Shlaim’s anti-Zionism? In reviewing ‘Israel and Palestine’ Benny Morris pronounced himself puzzled.

“Many intellectuals, in Israel as in the West, have been moved by the Palestinians’ history and their plight, but at the same time they have remained sympathetic to Israel’s predicament…. In Israel and Palestine, by contrast, there is no sign of any such complex sympathy.

“For Shlaim, Israel and its leaders can do no right. It all begins to seem very personal. What is the source of this bias and this resentment? ‘

It appears that Shlaim’s memoir holds the answer. Israel is responsible for his unhappy childhood, his family’s impoverishment and his broken home.

Read article in full

More about Avi Shlaim

Point of No Return

#Jews of Iraq

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intriguingpeoplebyangelafloyd · 4 days

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ADOLF HITLER

1889-1945

Adolf Hitler was born and raised in Austria and had an unhappy childhood. His father was brutal, but Hitler looked up to his mother. He was a frustrated teenager and his artistic pursuits were disappointing, even though he had artistic talent. He served as a soldier in the German army during World War I where he was wounded. After the war he was lonely, isolated, and frustrated and he fantasised about much greater things and got entwined in politics.

Germany was in an economic crisis and the German people were desperate for better days. In Munich, his party the National Socialist Party (NSDAP) attracted servicemen and disgruntled citizens. In 1924 Hitler was sentenced to five years in prison for staging the coup ‘Beer Hall Putsch’, he served only nine months and spent that time writing a book. Hitler’s book Mein Kampf (My Struggle) was published in 1925, the book was about his life and his political ideas. After his release he recruited Herman Goring, Heinrich Himmler and master propagandist Josef Goebbels.

In 1933, his party won the parliamentary elections, there started the Nazi party, Third Reich and Hitler was their Fuhrer. Hitler predicted they would be in power for a thousand years and those who initially believed that the Nazi party wouldn’t last, would regret that they didn’t do more when it was possible.

During his time in power he was known for his hatred towards Jews, Communists, Gypsies, political opponents and anybody else he disliked - he had them cruelty treated and killed. On 30 June 1934, was the Night of the Long Knives he destroyed any opponents, to get rid of Jews out of power and made sure he had total control. Hitler created the SS who were loyal only to Hitler and the secret police called the Gestapo. He had anybody he found undesirable sent to concentration camps, where millions died.

Hitler embarked on a military program on a massive scale to make Germany a mega power. He attempted to take power wherever he could, the capture of Austria, Czechoslovakia, and the Rhineland; he then invaded Poland in 1939, which led to war with France and Britain. Winston Churchill refused to be duped by Hitler and even though Hitler first aligned with Stalin, Stalin later turned to side with the allies. In 1941 Hitler invaded the Soviet Union; the Russians were able to drive the Germans back. He then seized Denmark and Norway and then took over France in a matter of weeks. Hitler then declared war on the United States. The Allied troops invaded Germany from the east and west and had Germany in ruins.

On 30 April 1945, Hitler and his wife Eva Braun commit suicide inside his Berlin bunker. The night before, around midnight, he married Braun. He wrote his will and declared Martin Bormann his deputy and expelled former right-hand man Hermann Goering and Heinrich Himmler for disloyalty. The two men had been concerned for Hitler’s mental state and doubted his ability to head the party in the last weeks of Hitler’s life when they would have known that the Third Reich was about to fall.

Hitler and his closest aides had moved into the bunker below the Reich Chancellery garden on 16 January 1945 as allied forces closed in. The bunker housed medical staff, aides, telephonist and his secretary’s. The bunker was decorated in furnishings and artwork.

On 22-23 April, those in the bunker had left but Hitler chose to remain until the end. On 30 April, Allied and Soviet troops moved into Berlin, prompting Hitler and Braun to end their lives. Braun swallowed a cyanide capsules and Hitler then shot himself. Afterwards Bormann doused their bodies with gasoline and set fire to them. That same day, Hitler’s minister Joseph Goebbels and his wife, killed their six children and then committed suicide. A week after Hitler’s death, Germany surrendered which ended World War II. The charred remains of Hitler remained in Russian custody, a skull fragment complete with a bullet hole and four teeth. Hitler and Braun were buried in unmarked grave in east Germany, their bodies along with those of the Goebbels family, were exhumed in 1970 on the orders of KGB boss Yuri Andropov, they were incinerated again, and the ashes poured into a river.

#adolfhitler #worldwarII

#adolf hitler #adolfhitler #world war II

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