wonka brainrot

informative post 😳

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rie ; she/her

multifandom

wattpad: whenkins

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—» rie. like tree, but without the t.

—» mobile user (reason for goofy formatting)

—» reader inserts, mainly

—» comics, movies, entertainment. i love it all

—» rant/misc/chat tag is #rie.txt

—» reply tag is #riesponse

pairing: w.w. + reader

word count: 2k (yowza)

a/n: just another little oneshot aside from the series i'm working on! they're not necessarily related, i just wanted a break from brainstorming huhrhegh

—

The silence of the courtyard and its surroundings was inviting.

No sound had ever really been emitted from the factory and its grandeur structure. It was ensured from the beginning that the exterior was completely soundproof, and that the only noise ever emitted was that of the chocolatier himself amplifying his voice over a speaker. Many outside still wondered what really lied within the walls of the factory, for the accounts given from the Ticket Winners were, quite frankly, unbelievable. Not a single reporter, fact checker, conspiracist, or government official believed the words of eight foolish visitors.

To believe that a child was sucked into a fudge-transporting pipe and had been whisked away throughout the pipes of the entire factory was seen as ridiculous.

If your daughter chewed a treacherous piece of gum and inflated to the size of a small house, as blue as the deep see and as rotund as a sports ball, that was nonsensical.

When you lie about specially trained squirrels whisking you away and ungracefully lunging you and your father into a garbage chute piled with three weeks worth of trash, you get scoffed and laughed at.

And no, Mr. Teavee, your fellow teachers will not take the time to "hear you out" and "believe what you have to say" about your son's transportation through... waves and particles?.. to arrive on the screen of a rather small television. Aside from this, they begged him to stop bringing up the fictitious "Oompaland" he so desperately searched for.

News outlets had all believed that the victims' altered appearances were that of a publicity stunt, for they reverted to their normal selves in due time. A couple of showers for the kids and the effects had seemed to wear off. It was pushed that both the children and their parents feigned disappointment for such a wonderful company and its inner workings just to receive a slimy check. Ridiculed for their horridness until the dust settled, the families went on with their routinely lives replaying the moments from the first of that February every now and again.

People were curious about the factory now, more than ever. In fact, there was a slew of reporters that would stand outside the gates every day. Sometimes they would stay for 10 minutes, other times 10 hours. Though it never seemed to bother Mr. Wonka, so you've noticed. The silence of your surroundings was inviting, because it hadn't felt like this for a while.

You had now been standing outside of the gates for just a minute, taking in the intimidating view of the smoking factory. To your left was none other than Charlie Bucket, now the heir of the entire Wonka estate. He followed your gaze and looked up at the smoke from afar, closing his eyes and inhaling the intoxicating scent of chocolate that surrounded you both. The sweet aroma was the only indicator that this was a chocolate factory. Its drab and gloomy structure indicated no such thing.

He looks back up at you, calling your name.

"Hm?"

"Think we should go in now?"

You blink rapidly and shake your head. "Oh, yeah! Didn't realize we've just been.. here. I doubt Wonka would mind."

As you both make your way through the snow, a comfortable small talk takes place. You and Charlie both joke that Will would tease you for standing outside when you could go inside and smell every smell and taste every flavor rather than roaming like lost dogs. Charlie had always enjoyed your presence; he believed you were the perfect fit for Mr. Wonka. On days where even Charlie couldn't handle the man, you were able to take over and hold the fort down. Reasoning with Will was a hastle in itself, but not necessarily impossible. He was often a difficult man to read. Thinning patience, fear of failure, and a desire to impress and amaze. Isolated from the outside world and accustomed to outdated lingo and style, it was challenging to get him up to speed. Sometimes you'd have to tell him not to expect so much from Charlie, who was just a boy, and understand that he needed time off of work to spend with his family.

Charlie would forever be grateful for the case you constantly made for him.

"Hey, Wendel, it's us," You jokingly shout, the two of you standing in front of the gates awaiting the buzz in. "And it's cold."

Charlie butts in, "Mr. Wonka, you'll have to hold [name]'s hands to warm them up-"

"C'mon, man."

"I don't see the problem in having a little fun!"

Will's hanging on to every word, listening as you two jokingly bicker just outside the doors. His voice rings out over the speaker, interrupting your playful arguing.

"Charlie's right. Come in!"

You sigh, looking down at your shoes to hide the blush spreading across your face. A smile crept itself upon your lips as you feel Charlie playfully nudge your shoulder, the two of you walking forward after hearing the doors open. Another chat takes place as the boy apologizes with a cheeky "sorry!" as you cross the courtyard to enter. You can't help but grin. "Don't worry about it, kiddo," You laugh it off, ruffling his hair.

Your feet are both met with the familiar red carpet that seemed to stretch for miles. After convincing Will to put up a simple coat and hat rack at the entrance (you hated throwing your coat down on the floor so carelessly), you take advantage of the iron stand and accept Charlie's coat. Hanging your coats up, Charlie speaks from next to you, already advancing.

"Evening, Mr. Wonka!"

Turning away from the rack, you step up to Charlie's side and face Wonka. He's already made his way over to you with his cane swinging around giddily.

"Hey, Charlie," He speaks above a whisper, clearly distracted as he's standing in front of you and taking in your appearance. Will would do this every time you came back after taking Charlie around the town; fresh air once in a while was greatly appreciated. His gloves squeak and you realize that he's reaching up to touch your face, grazing your cheek as you chuckle at the gesture.

"Nice to see you too, love." You speak up, reaching to take his top hat from his head and promptly placing it on your own. He flashes you that signature smile, leaning in to connect your lips with his own when-

"Can we at least make it inside before you start?" You're both taken aback as you turn your heads left in unision. Charlie, who's standing with a smile of his own, teases you and makes his way to the Chocolate Room door. You look back at Will to make sure he's not too offended.

He is definitely offended.

A childish pout graces his features. Although he knew Charlie was only having a bit of fun, he really wanted to kiss you without worry. Your grin falters as you look at him, rolling your eyes and adopting a softer tone.

"Mr. Wonka," The title melted off of your tongue like smooth caramel, "You know we could just waltz in and pick up where we left off in there, ri-"

He wastes no more time in placing a deep, loving kiss on the lips he so worshipped. It took you no time to reciprocate, smiling into the kiss and savoring the sensation. There seemed to always be a hint of a taste test on his lips... something you adored. Whether it was chocolate or licorice, taffy or candy canes, the delight of a treat all for yourself was perfect. What a wonderful thing it was, to be dating an accomplished connoisseur of sweets.

Will does just as Charlie's instructed: he takes your chilled hands in his. Breaking away, he matches your gaze and widens his grin. Always showing off that perfect mouth, huh?

"He's right, you know," Eyebrows now furrowing in concern.

"Your hands are as cold as ice."

This, of course, was a lie. You were both aware. By the time he pointed it out, the temperature of the hall (hotter than normal, for the Oompa Loompas) had already warmed yours hands in no time flat. He always looked for an excuse to hold you. It was often to "make sure you didn't fall into the river" while cuddling or "assuring safety in a room full of unfinished inventions" by draping his arm affectionately around your shoulder.

Sigh.

"I love you, and you should know that you can just.. hold my hands whenever you want. I promise I won't bite," You tease, using your thumb to rub against his knuckles as he did for you.

"Yeah, I know.. but not having a reason is weird, right? Doing it out of nowhere is just creepy? It feels dastardly and abnormal."

"Ah, I see you're still trying to understand actual affection, Willy."

"Partners just show affection whenever they want?"

"That's right! When it's appropriate, and trust me- it is. You have my permission. I would not be opposed to a kiss on the cheek every so often, or even a hand to hold. You don't have to say anything either! That's the beauty of it. It's natural, and it's unspoken."

He tilts his head to the side and reseambles a concerned dog. "Unspoken?"

"Yes!" You exhale, still smiling your way through the conversation. Catching him up to speed always required a little work. "Look, it's really just doing whatever feels.. right. You know that you're stable and in love, and you go with your instinct," Noticing his hat is still on your head, you let go of his hands to remove the accessory and return it to its rightful place. "There's no second guessing. You're just happy and impulsive. And that's pretty much okay."

Will brings a gloved finger up to tap his chin pensively. "Ah. Okay, okay okay okay. Alright. Yeah. Yeah!" He beams and looks up, violet eyes gleaming and full of joy. "Impulsive! Oooh, I like it! Candymaking is kind of impulsive you know, it's always a leap of faith when trying something n-"

He's abruptly cut off as you plant a quick one right on the kisser. Needless to say, he's even happier.

"Heeeey, I like impulsive!!"

Before you're aware of what he's doing, Willy scoops you up in his arms the second his sentence finishes. Carrying you bridal style and making his way to the door, you're caught in a laughing fit and playfully hitting his chest.

"That's impulsive! There you go! There it is, babe! That's unspoken! That's love!"

He comically kicks the door open with his heeled boot and brings you to the Chocolate Room you so graciously adored. As you take in the view (a couple of ooo! pretty!'s and ah! magical!'s in between), he continues his confident stride towards the river.

"Hey, Will, we're headed for th- Will, hun, we're going straight to th- Willy, the- WHATAREYOUDOING-"

He swings you.

"Oooooone!"

"WAITWAITWAITW-"

"Twwwooooooo!"

"YOURCHOCOLATEMUSTNOTBETOUCHEDBYHUMANHANDS-"

"Aaaaand three!"

A screech to rival the banshee's echoes through the room, and you expect to be drowning in creamy milk chocolate by now. To your surprise, you're still clutching onto Will for dear life, and he's smiling down at you and flashing his pearly whites.

"That would have been impulsive, huh?"

You're gasping for air.

"Yeah. Would have been crazy."

A gulp, then a sigh of relief.

"You said it yourself, babe. Can't contaminate the chocolate. You know that, silly goose!"

You throw your head back and groan.

"That," He sets you down and you tumble onto the grass, "Was not.. the kind of impulsive.. I was.. referring to." You gasp and lay limp on the meadow, catching your breath.

He takes a seat next to your still form, choosing to sit criss cross on your right side.

"Oh, how I love impulsive!"

You let out your last sigh, and can't help but close your eyes and smile. Will laughs and takes pride in your defeated state. Unbeknownst to you two, Charlie watched the whole thing from afar. Not wanting to bother either of you, he kept his joy to himself. It was about time someone had made Mr. Wonka laugh so sincerely.

pairing: w.w. + reader

word count: 1.3k (almost 1.4k 🤧)

a/n: i keep writing long chapters/one shots,, i need to write something short every now and then 😳 ALSO i love this gif but it looks so creepy here wow dude chill

—

"Well, I'm bored."

You fall flat onto Will's bed, letting your head hit the abundance of silk pillows lining the headboard. Some bigger than others, all in a deep red and gold color scheme. It was a beautiful bed, but it was lonely.

He sat only a few feet away, at a desk he had recently placed in his room. Business was flourishing at the moment, and he couldn't be happier or even more stressed. Forced to work more than ever, Willy Wonka had a new desk installed in his personal quarters. This made the third desk built in a week- prior to this, he had only one in his office. And that's were you believed a desk should stay.

Not in the quarters of your shared room.

Because now he has four desks. In his most personal rooms in the factory. And that was preposterous.

His head barely moves at the sound of your voice. In fact, it was quite buried in his work. What seemed to be hundreds of notes and wrapper designs were strewn about the surface. You previously made note of how the documents never fell off the desk once, despite there being so many.

"You have a whole factory to yourself right now," He mutters, eyes glued to notes on pop rocks that could pop pimples. Gross, but effective.

"Go out and explore!"

A sigh you weren't aware of holding in escapes your lips, falling to the floor as you sit up on the edge of the bed. Your feet dangle back and forth, perhaps catching the sigh you released. You imagined they'd be juggling the breath back and forth, and this was your entertainment.

Unseen to you, Will's head is detached from his work to look at you after hearing you sigh. He takes note of your dull expression, a pang of guilt tugging at his heartstrings. Following your gaze to your feet, a ghost of a smile forms upon his lips. He knew you were imaging something, for he caught the tension in your brows. You looked like you were really thinking, but you were really just imagining a cartoon gust of wind bouncing upon your feet. He didn't need to know that.

"So no to the exploring?"

Your head jerks up, happy to hear his voice clearly and directed right to you. Your feet stop swinging.

"I'd rather not trek it alone. Don't wanna get lost again, y'know?"

He frowns, tilting his head.

"But you've been here for, like, a year now. Surely you know the layout of this place!"

"It's huge, Willy. A year doesn't give me enough time to learn the layout."

"Then you explore to learn it! Duh."

The duh reminded you of the same tone he adopted with those poor Golden Ticket children. You knew he would never talk to you like that, even the thought alone was comical. Hoping not to go on a tour like that ever again, you hesitated to respond. Regardless, you wanted something to do, and sitting in silence for Willy to focus on his work wasn't much of a pleasant pastime.

Nodding your head, you begin your response. "Okay, yeah, I get it. But I'll need a tour guide!" You fix your posture and excite yourself at the idea of a whimsical tour with the grand Mr. Wonka. He drops his head minutely, bracing himself for the reply he was about to get.

"I'm absolutely swamped with work..."

There it goes.

"I could send one of the Oompa Loompas to show you around..."

He hated the words that left his mouth.

"It'll be just like going on a tour with me," He finishes. "And I could pick you up when I'm done."

That was probably the most insensitive thing he had ever said to you, he thinks.

Your fallen face told him everything he needed to know. Tears began to quickly brim your eyes, and you looked away from him to avoid raising concern. It was selfish to take him from his life's work, you concluded. There were times where you wanted to be the priority that sat just above the factory on his list of importance. You had convinced yourself every time that this line of thinking was just plain rude.

"I'd rather stay here then."

Out of every occupation, why did he have to be a world renowned chocolatier?

Will looks down, now posessed by a frustrated demeanor, and reaches for the watch in his vest pocket. The hour hand rested nearby the 9, and the minute hand on the ten. Had he really been sitting here for four, nearly five hours?

A defeated sigh parts his lips and makes its way to your ears. You perk up once more, turning to fully face him, tears subsiding.

"Alright," He pushes himself out of his seat and extends his hand for you to take. "I've been a jerk, you're not feeling so hot. Let's boogie."

Snort.

"What? I said c'mon, good-lookin'! We gotta boogie!"

A succession of giggles.

"Sweetheart, I'm serious. Are we hauling tail, skidaddling, and getting our groove on or not?"

Your hearty laugh echoes throughout the spacious bedroom and overwhelms his senses. He'd never heard such a melodious sound. Will would do anything just to get you to laugh, even if it was making fun of the way he talked (which he quite enjoyed, why would he have to change it? That's stupid and boring, duh.)

"Y'know, it feels good when you choose work over me. Maybe take a couple more breaks every now and then, hm?" You've taken his hand and he snakes his other arm around your waist, putting you both in a position to waltz. The two of you lazily step back and forth around the room, making your way to the door.

"Ooh, I'll need a bit of convincing, 'kay? Just pull a card like this anytime and, gosh darn it, I'm all yours."

"Will."

"Okay! Not as romantic as it sounded in my head. I get it. I need to 'embody human decency' and 'cherish the precious moments with the one I love,' or whatever it is my therapist tells me. You won't need to convince me."

You take both of his hands and lead him out the door, giggling and grinning. "Thank you for the clarification," you tease. "I'm forever grateful to be humbled by the presence of the magnificent Mr. Willy Wonka."

"Eeeeww, don't talk like that! That's positively gross. I'm your boyfriend, and I like being your boyfriend! Hopefully the only Mr. Wonka you'll be uttering will be when the Mrs. is mentioned right after."

He locks arms with you as he leads you into the glass elevator, already knowing which rooms he wanted to take you into. At the mention of a Mrs. Wonka, your throat goes dry and you began to cough.

"Don't act so surprised, juuuuust brace yourself for the question sometime," Willy nonchalantly assures while inspecting the elevator's buttons, finally pushing one and letting the elevator prepare for travel. "It's probably coming sooner than you think."

You nod and begin to wonder.

"Today?"

"Mm, no, not ready."

"Uhh.. tomorrow?"

"Too soon."

"Day after?"

"Could be! Who knows?"

"Will, I-"

"Won't be ready for the question at all. I know. Oh, don't fret, don't frown! Take it easy, my dear. You're simply too worried over nothing," He assures you while leaning against the corner of the elevator as you both go left to right, up and down, and even diagonally. The elevator pulls in just above the Chocolate Room, providing you both with a stunning visual of the frothy waterfall and arching bridges of mint grass. He steps out and offers you a hand to take. Leading you to the river, you watch the Oompa Loompas arrive with a boat much smaller than the one used for the Golden Ticket tour. This was a personal boat- its intended use only to transport the two of you.

You carefully sit down first, letting Will take up the seat to your right. "Now, Mr. Wonka," You prod, his head carefully turning to see you staring out into the tunnel, then meeting his own gaze directed to you. "Have I ever told you how peculiar you are?"

"I can't recall a single time you've ever done so."

—