#maybe even the rest of my life like the grandparents from willy wonka

[baggy-holmes]

chilly weekend trip to tejas

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.24

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Willy both make wishes, but they don’t know that they were wishing for the same thing.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​ @sleepiesapphicxoxo​

The rest of the afternoon seemed so agonizingly slow to Willy. But now, he was happy to be returning to the love of his life after an accomplishing day. Now, just came the wait for tomorrow. He'd be proposing to Rose tomorrow evening, and he was hoping that Priscilla's plan would go smoothly.

But of course, with the excitement, came the nervousness. Willy knew that Rose loved him, so why wouldn't she want to marry him? But what if he asks her and she suddenly changes her mind about him? What if she no longer looks at him with love in her eyes, but instead with disgust? Would she want to leave him? She could find someone else to be with.

He pushed away those thoughts for now. He absolutely did not need that kind of negativity. When he returned home to Rose, he found her seated at the little table on the porch having tea with a couple of Oompa-Loompas.

Rose managed to finish all the tasks on her list, so she decided to reward herself with some tea and cookies. Of course, she couldn't not have the Oompa-Loompas join her. They work hard all day and deserve a treat every now and then.

Willy approached Rose and the Oompa-Loompas. He managed to hear the end of a story she was telling them. And the Oompa-Loompas were quite enjoying it, judging by the amused smiles on their faces.

"And that's the tale of how one customer managed to start a pie fight, and get himself banned from the shop" Rose reminisced. She gazed off, her eyes widening in horror as she remembered the mess from that day. "Honestly, it looked like a fruit stand threw up"

"Sounds like I missed quite the story" Willy said, standing behind Rose.

"Cocoa bean!" Rose cheered with a smile. She stood up from her chair and faced him. She grabbed onto his face and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

Willy smiled at her as he began caressing her face. "Starshine" He cooed back to her. He then turned to look at the two Oompa-Loompas. "Hello!" He greeted them with a wave. "I see the three of you were having fun!"

"We were" Rose nodded. She also turned to the two Oompa-Loompas. "Thank you very much for joining me for tea. We should do this again sometime" The Oompa-Loompas agreed with a nod and a smile. They then bowed to Willy and Rose, before leaving the two of them alone. "How was the rest of your afternoon?" Rose asked Willy.

"It was okay" Willy said with a shrug. He snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "But it would have been better if I could have spent it with you"

"Well now you have the evening to spend with me" Rose said, placing a hand upon his chest. "What would you like to do with it?"

"It doesn't matter. As long as I'm spending it with you"

******

The two of them decided to spend the rest of the evening laying in the grass, looking up at the ceiling which was being projected with stars and their constellations. Rose and Willy were laying in a way where they were in opposite directions of each other, but their heads were next to each other.

"And you see that one right there?" Rose said, raising up her arm to point at a specific arrangement of stars. "The one that looks like a bowl with a handle? That's the Big Dipper."

"I see it" Willy said. He raised his hand to point at another group of stars. "That one right there looks like it, but it's smaller"

"That would be the Little Dipper" Rose explained.

"You sure do know a lot about the stars" Willy gasped suddenly and then giggled. "Maybe that's why you're my starshine!"

Rose giggled with him. "I suppose if you spent every night staring out a hole above your bed as you fall asleep, you're bound to learn a few things about the night sky" Rose noticed as a bright streak made it's was across the ceiling. "A shooting star" She whispered, turning her head to look at Willy. "Now you have to make a wish"

Willy smiled, turning his head as well so he was looking at Rose. "What more could I possibly wish for, when everything I could have ever asked for is right in front of me?" He pressed a gentle upside down kiss to her lips. "What about you, starshine? Anything you wish for?"

Well, there was one thing Rose always wanted, but she wasn't sure how to bring it up with Willy. She's always wanted to start a family of her own. She always dreamed of having twins, one boy and one girl. But, she wasn't sure that was what Willy wanted. Sure, he had eventually warmed up to the Buckets. But would Willy want his own family? Would he even consider the idea of becoming a father, considering how strained his relationship with his own was? And besides, he despised children. Obviously, Willy had warmed up to Charlie, but what if he couldn't learn to love his own children. She was scared every time he'd look at their children, he'd just grimace in disgust.

Willy became worried at the way Rose was just blankly staring at the ceiling. It reminded him of the way he would stare off when he got his flashbacks. "Starshine?" Rose came back into reality, blinking her eyes as she looked at Willy again. "Is everything okay?"

Rose smiled reassuringly at him. "Yes, cocoa bean. I'm fine"

"Were you wishing for something?"

"There's nothing more I could wish for now that I have you" Rose told him. She decided not to mention the idea of family for now. Besides, the two of them weren't even married yet. But what Rose didn't know was that Willy made a couple wishes of his own.

His first wish, of course, was that Rose would accept his proposal tomorrow. He had no doubts that she would, but it didn't hurt to make it a wish. The second wish he made was something that he never thought he would wish for. But it seemed that Rose changed a lot about him. Like the fact that he hated being touched or that he thought love was one of the most disgusting feelings to ever feel. Now, he absolutely loved affection (as long as most of it came from Rose), and then he came to realize that love wasn't such a terrible thing to feel after all.

And so, he eventually came to realize that he wanted a family of his own one day. Thanks to the Buckets, his views on family were changing every day. And never once did he regret starting to reconcile with his father. And that's what got Willy thinking. What would make his life with Rose more perfect, than a chance to start a family of his own. Why do you think he had an extra bedroom added to the house?

Now, he still wasn't too overly fond of children. Charlie, of course, was an obvious exception. But, Willy would no doubt love his own children. Between him and Rose as parents, Charlie as an uncle, Mr and Mrs Bucket as grandparents, and Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine, Grandpa George, and Grandma Georgina as great grandparents, their children would be raised right.

They would be taught how to use manners and how to share. They would be taught how to be nice to others and that they need to do their share of chores. They wouldn't be an Augustus Gloop, Violet Beauregarde, Veruca Salt, or a Mike Teavee. Heck, Rose and Willy's child wouldn't even be a Charlie Bucket. Their child would be a Wonka. A mix of wonder and creativity coming from Willy, and the compassion and generosity from Rose.

Yep, there was no doubt that someday in the future that Willy and Rose would be wonderful parents and raise even more wonderful children. But the both of them decided to keep those thoughts from each other. For now, at least.

[anotherdayinchuckletown]

Crossed Wires (Part 2/3)

(A/N:Hey, guys! This chapter took forever and a day for me to complete because the story I had planned out in my head just kept weaving and changing direction on me. My own characters are filthy traitors who don’t listen to me, but that’s okay because it means I’m doing something right.

Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who left me such lovely comments on the first chapter - here’s a link in case you missed it! - and encouraged me to continue on with this story. Just one more part left, guys! With a hopefully shorter wait period in between next time lmao

If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and comment! Hearing from you guys is always such a pleasure! Thank you so much for reading!

-Love, Katherine <3)

Summary: Charlie needs a vacation, or maybe at least one well-adjusted role model.

________________________________

For most kids like Charlie Bucket, people like Willy Wonka only come around once in a lifetime. Sometimes passing like a ship in the night, then disappearing for good. Sometimes crashing a jet-propelled elevator through the roof of your home, insulting your family, dragging you along with them to reconcile with their estranged father, then moving you and said family into their massive factory to live forever.

Most likely not the second one, though. Metaphor is not Charlie’s strong suit.

Regardless, it’s his uncanny luck that brings yet another ship to port in his once simple life. That ship contains one Dr. Margot Elizabeth Weber, his austere yet kindly teacher.

Where Wonka and Charlie excel in the theoretical and abstract, she often flounders, much more comfortable in the physical and concrete. After all, concrete is solid and unyielding, unbending once it has formed a pattern.

That is, until Charlie spotted the first break.

He was waiting by the door of his family’s little house in the Chocolate Room at eight fifty-nine that morning. Dr. Weber arrived at nine o'clock—not a minute earlier or later—and crisply knocked on the door three times. He opened it for her, and that was when he noticed the inconsistency. A tiny distortion, as though he were seeing the same pattern through the rippling water of the Everlasting Gobstopper pool.

She was dressed casually, something that he had never seen before. Her normally immaculate hair was pulled haphazardly into a messy ponytail and dark, heavy circles adorned her eyes.

“Dr. Weber?” he blurted out, voice laced with concern. More tactfully, he added, “Er, good morning!”

The young woman blinked slowly at him, eyelids clearly fighting to remain open. “Charlie, this is the four hundred seventy-eighth day that I have worked here. You should no longer be surprised to find me at your door.”

“…Right, sorry. How are you?” Unwilling to correct her on the source of his shock, he gathered up his supplies and joined her outside—in the Chocolate Room, that is. The emerald fields of swudge and the warmth from the heat lamps meant to mimic sunlight often make it easy to forget that they are, in fact, still indoors.

Dr. Weber seemingly pondered his question as they started for their usual spot—a secluded knoll near the base of the chocolate waterfall. “I am very well,” she finally said, spectacularly unconvincing.

From then on, the morning proceeded as usual. Dr. Weber’s zeal for mathematical equilibrium overshadowed her apparent exhaustion and moodiness. And Charlie became too preoccupied with remembering the steps of the quadratic formula to worry over her.

That had been a little over a week ago.

Charlie knows he is perceptive, has known it all his life. No matter how his parents and late grandparents tried to shield him from the full extent of their poverty before meeting Wonka, he was always acutely aware of their hardships. That is why he began shining shoes in his spare time, when his family likely thought he had been off playing with friends. Because he has always been able to tell these things.

Dr. Weber likely thinks that she does an adequate job of hiding how much she fancies Wonka. Luckily for her, Wonka is twice as ignorant as she is obvious. Nearly constantly, Charlie staves off his own secondhand embarrassment as Dr. Weber runs herself ragged tending to Wonka’s every beck and call, stands far closer than necessary, and openly stares at the chocolatier whenever his back is turned. Meanwhile, Wonka carries on with his day, blissfully unaware.

Yet, ever since that day Charlie saw the first crack, Dr. Weber’s pattern has been completely broken. She appears in the same room with him only when it is mandatory. When that happens, she keeps several yards between them and refuses to spare him a glance.

It doesn’t take Charlie long to put the puzzle pieces together.

“What did Mr. Wonka do to you?” he asks her point-blank one day after cornering her in the Coffee Cream Room.

She looks taken aback, having been absorbed in grading assignments and guzzling coffee (her third cup, if the two empty ones next to her are anything to go by). She peers up at him over the frames of her glasses. “Hm?”

“You’ve been awfully cross with him for a few days now,” he clarifies, moving to sit across from her cautiously. Appealing to Dr. Weber’s pathos is tricky business. He needs to apply just the right amount of pressure for her to feel comfortable speaking freely—too much or too little, and his window slams shut.

Dr. Weber focuses back on her work. Wearing a thin veil of nonchalance, she asserts, “I am not sure what you are referring to. I have no complaints against him whatsoever.”

“Then why have you been avoiding him recently?”

His teacher sighs in exasperation, and something in her eyes hardens. “Let him know that he needn’t worry. My productivity has not been affected.”

Charlie winces. He wonders what Wonka could have possibly said or done that would elicit such a strong reaction from someone as composed as Dr. Weber. “Oh, no, nothing like that!” He backpedals, thinking that he may be overplaying his hand here. “In fact, he only ever has good things to say about you! I was just…worried. That’s all.”

To his surprise, she sets down her pen. “I appreciate your concern, but I was sincere when I said I have no complaints.” She frowns, lips pursed with guilt. “You see, when I presented Mr. Wonka with blueprints for his new mixer last week, he made a comment.”

“He didn’t like it?” Charlie asks incredulously.

“No, it’s not that—he loved it. It’s what he said to me after that.” She seemingly braces herself before reciting, “’Eliza, you are as reliable and efficient as a machine’.”

The word “machine” drips with venom from her lips. If it weren’t for her clear contempt for the word, Charlie might be at a loss for the source of her rancor.

Grand and impressive as machines can be, especially here in the factory, they are nothing more than a means to an end. An empty husk for man to impart his will upon. An object to be discarded once they have fulfilled their purpose. Cold and unfeeling.

The way Dr. Weber must now believe Wonka views her.

Charlie can sympathize with her plight. Those couple weeks after he first met Wonka, after his family had been harshly refused access to the factory, he had felt utterly betrayed. The sparkling image of his childhood hero, tarnished in the blink of an eye. Of course, bygones are bygones, and the two of them now have a much more organic relationship. Charlie would go so far as to say Wonka is like a second father to him (as much as the least paternal person on earth can be, that is).

Charlie knows good and well that his mentor is no smooth talker. There is no doubt in his mind that the chocolatier is capable of insulting Dr. Weber, whether intentional or not.

Dr. Weber’s voice breaks him out of his reverie. “In any case,” she says evenly, “I have come to realize that I overreacted.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie tilts his head curiously.

“I am an employee here,” she explains. “I complete tasks…I perform functions…and I leave.” Straightening the papers in front of her, she gathers them into her tote bag. “But I became conceited. Clearly, I assigned myself undue importance—a mistake I shall not be repeating.”

Charlie gapes at her from across the table, disheartened by the sincerity in her words. “That…that’s not true! You are important here, Dr. Weber!” he insists. “And I know Mr. Wonka thinks so, too. Why don’t you see for yourself?”

That earns him a skeptical look. “What are you suggesting? That I broach the subject with him myself?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Neither I or Mr. Wonka have time to spare over such nonsense.”

“You mean, your thoughts and feelings,” Charlie surmises.

“Yes, as I said, nonsense.” Slinging her bag over her shoulder and pounding back the rest of her coffee, she stands.

Charlie nods wryly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her. Looking at Wonka and Dr. Weber on any given day is like looking at his own parents through a carnival funhouse mirror, but this is plain ridiculous. “You can’t just let him walk all over you, Dr. Weber. He will, but only if you let him.” He stands as well, only half as gracefully, as his adolescent body continues to adjust to suddenly being nearly six feet tall. “If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll say something for you.”

Dr. Weber spins on her heel to face him, features hardened. “Charlie.” She says his name gently, yet firmly, the way his mother used to when he misbehaved as a little boy. “Again, I appreciate your concern for me, but that is hardly necessary. As your teacher, it would be unseemly to involve you in my personal matters in such a way.” She starts for the exit, discarding her empty cups on the way. “As it stands, I’ve already said too much.”

Charlie trails her into the hallway. Time for one last Hail Mary. “Technically speaking, we’re not in a lesson right now,” he rationalizes aloud. “And I don’t work for Mr. Wonka—well, not like you do, at least. So your record of conduct would be perfectly safe.” In fact, Wonka doesn’t even keep records of conduct. He doesn’t generally do much hiring and firing.

Dr. Weber looks him over warily, carefully considering. Charlie squirms nervously as he feels himself being dissected under a microscope. Finally, she tells him, “You make an excellent sales pitch…but I’m not worth the fuss. I’ll be taking my leave now; I have business at the university.” Without leaving room for further debate, she turns and strides down the hall, noticeably hastier than usual.

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, Charlie lopes back inside. He needs a shot of espresso, stat. And he would rather not look too deeply into that compulsive need to help every simultaneously ingenious and emotionally stunted adult he comes across just yet.

Maybe Dr. Weber is right that he shouldn’t worry so much. After all, things have a mysterious way of ultimately working out around here.

[officercryptid]

Thoughts on Willy Wonka

So in Wilder's Willy Wonka, I've always had a couple of questions (particularly about teaching structure) but a new piece of interesting thought upon tonight's viewing.

The news anchor introducing the midway point of the contest says there are only 5 continents trying to find the tickets. My first assumption is that this doesn't include Antarctica. Perhaps it's been explored but there are no science stations there.

Something you'll notice in the movie though, is the lack of Asian characters or Asian ticket winners. Indeed, when the news man later shows Paraguay, the whole rest of the map can be seen visually but not Asia.

Are we to conclude then that part of the economy that has made Wonka so famous but so sparse for others is possibly one of the wars in Asia or possibly the atomic bombs in this universe decimated even more than just Japanese cities? Really, the only three countries represented in the whole movie are America (and only via tv and only the Midwest and the Southwest), Great Britain (still using the pound system), and Germany.

You may even read a critique of American exceptionalism in this movie based on the characters of Violet and Mike (bloodthirsty and competitive) that you don't see in anyone except for Veruca (and her being spoiled here is not competitive).

So what is the film maker here trying to say? Is it possible the Oompa Loompas are actually a critique of some form of Asian culture or possibly that's where we read Loompa Land to be?

Is the freedom that Wonka sings about in the Edible Room nothing more but a wish for world peace in a world ravaged by more brutal hard and dark wars than what we had in our timeline?

Salt's comment about Wonka ruining his watershed makes me wonder if this is a parallel universe where maybe Sinclair's The Jungle was never printed either? Like, perhaps Salt assumes Wonka is a crooked business man like himself because its so common place?

What was Grandpa Joe's job? Did he hunt or handle weaponry? Because Joe's remark about the gun makes me wonder if either Charlie's Dad or Grandpa Joe (or maybe one of the other three grandparents?) were crippled in war of some kind or maybe there weren't as many vaccines to go around so perhaps it's from that or perhaps some kind of wartime raid injury?

Is Wonkatania some reference to the Luisitania? Does Wonka himself have PTSD?

If you see Charlie learning to burp to save his own life as the brashness of childhood v. the necessity of politeness- maybe that has some coding related to kids forced to grow up too much in war. But this does not factor in the number of kids at Charlie's school.

[turnleftaticela]

Sigh

Charlie Bucket is like 11 years old and he lives with his mother and 4 grandparents. I don’t have to prove that Grandpa Joe is selfish/narcissistic and Mrs. Bucket is his enabler; there’s enough articles about it already. FWIW, Joe reminds me of my dad, who is a covert narcissist.

Charlie is poor, yes, and that will make growing up healthily more difficult, yes. But his family’s situation goes beyond that. His mother straight-up tells him “It’s up to you” to take care of his four grandparents when she has to work longer hours. This wouldn’t be as upsetting if all four of them were disabled, but it’s made quite clear that Joe, in fact, is not.

Joe is, of course, also Charlie’s favorite parental figure. Charlie loves his mother and knows she’s working hard, but Joe is where all the fun comes in. When Charlie’s mother tries to be practical and responsible and all the other things little kids don’t like, Joe steps in and “defends” Charlie, makes him feel he should be exempt from the rules and the truth… and in doing so, totally undermines Charlie’s trust in his mother — yet still remains untrustworthy himself, as narcissists do, leaving Charlie entirely on his own to navigate the world and learn how to survive.

And to survive in a situation like that? Charlie is forced to give and give and give, to act older than he should be able to and in doing so never actually provide himself with the chance to, well, become himself. He’s constantly taking cues from the outside world, constantly searching for something to bring his life meaning, because he’s never had the opportunity to realize meaning comes from within. He lives from not just physical but mental paycheck to mental paycheck, rare moment of indulgence to rare moment of indulgence… chocolate bar to chocolate bar.

And yet, despite his complete and utter denial of self, he’s also been made to feel he’s special. Sure, life’s dealt him a shit hand, but that just means the universe has a special plan for him, since he follows different rules from everybody else, as Joe has led him to believe. So is it any wonder that, when the ticket hunt begins, he thinks his moment has finally come? That he ignores all odds and genuinely gets his hopes up, because he thinks the universe’s little game is finally paying off?

Now in real life, this would be a total delusion, and the poor kid would just crash and burn. But Quaker Oats wanted this movie to actually turn a profit, so Charlie does indeed find a golden ticket. And that leads us to the part of this post I’m dreading the most: Wonka.

I don’t want to talk about Wonka. It hurts. I’m 21 years old and it hurts to write a character analysis of Willy Wonka. Like I genuinely feel a bit sick. But that’s how I know I’m doing the right thing.

Why don’t we work backwards.

The last few minutes of the movie stand in stark contrast to the rest of it. It’s eerie, unsettling. There’s the distinct feeling that something is not right. Or maybe that’s just me. But when I was a child, every moment past the end of the factory tour filled me with this horrible sense of dread. Yes, even the happy part, even the glass elevator part. Maybe especially the glass elevator part. When the credits rolled I distinctly remember fearing the DVD player was going to blow up or suck me into some kind of soul-shredding purgatory dimension. I was like 4.

Why?

When you’re looking for something special, when you’re looking for the meaning of life, you idolize those who seem to embody it. You fall deeply into adulation with those who appear special enough to know all the secrets of the universe. They’re larger than life — larger than any life you’ve ever known, anyway — and the spoils of their work prove it, though you didn’t even need any proof but their mind to know it in your heart.

This is really embarrassing.

You become obsessed with understanding them. You hang on their every word, follow their every command, do everything you can to get on their good side and stay there. To prove to them you’re better than the rest — you’re just as special as this person is. The two of you are kindred spirits, and you’ve molded your mind to match theirs. You both speak a special language that few else understand. And you alone are consumed by the burning need to prove you’re fluent. You want this person’s recognition, you crave it — hell, you deserve it — and you truly believe your life would finally mean something if you had it. And you know they’d give it to you, too… if you could just prove yourself.

I think another term for this could probably be “Prelude to narcissistic abuse.”

Most people, if you admired them this way, would a) totally overlook it, and then b) either pity you or just think you’re insane. Your need for recognition would never be fulfilled.

But the funny thing about narcissists? They notice. They pick up on all the things you do and say for their benefit. They actively seek out people who are doing exactly what you do. And they latch on. Quick. They don’t make it obvious, not at first, but they drop little hints and crumbs of approval, staying predictably unpredictable, holding you at just the right length to keep you tethered indefinitely.

I really fucking hate this movie.

Okay I gave myself some time to emotionally detach. Here it is, clinically speaking: Charlie is predisposed to admire narcissists. Wonka is a narcissist (Google it). Charlie is entranced by Wonka. Wonka picks up on this (actually, my theory is that it’s what he was already expecting. But that’s not really provable within the movie). Wonka uses manipulative tactics to both scare and entice Charlie into submission, with the intent that he can brainwash the kid into following his exact orders so that he’ll preserve the Wonka legacy after Wonka is dead. He specifically knows that Charlie is poor and so he’s going to act like his savior and offer him this “better” life without regard for what Charlie might actually want, what Charlie might actually grow up to be, because that will never happen. Because Charlie Bucket as an individual barely exists, and soon won’t at all. (This is much like what he did with the Oompa Loompas, although that whole scheme has the added dimension of the white savior complex.)

Speaking of the Oompa Loompas, how absolutely fucked is it that they’re the ones who deliver the moral lessons this whole time, based on the claim that if you heed their lessons you’ll be “happy” like they are? Implying that their lifestyle amounts to any fucking shade of happiness? And that those are the lessons to follow if you want to live a lifestyle like theirs? Which supposedly equates to happiness???

Literally it would be like if it was a movie about a plantation and they had the enslaved people sing songs that said “Just be constantly submissive and never have desires of your own and always consider yourself less of a human being than other people and you’ll be happy!” and you were supposed to take that fucking seriously.

So with that as our moral compass, we arrive at the final few minutes. Anddd we’re back at the part that is hardest for me to discuss. Just gimme a sec.

I feel like it’s worth noting that this movie was like. Really really near and dear to my heart for a really really long time. And I fucking adored Wonka. He represented everything I ever wanted to be.

Right so. The important context for this bit is that Charlie had been essentially perfect in Wonka’s eyes for the majority of the tour. He laughed at every joke, oohed and aahed at every wonder, cowered in fear at every threat, and heeded every warning. He passed every single rigorous test of loyalty to Wonka. Every test, that is… until the fizzy lifting drink room.

See the thing is, besides just not being a brat, another thing that makes Charlie different from the other kids is that he takes cues from his guardian, not the other way around. The other kids do as they please while their parents attend to their every whim, but Charlie does nothing without Joe’s permission… and everything with it.

Up till now, Joe’s permission has entirely coincided with Wonka’s. He’s been fully willing to go along for the ride, and therefore so has Charlie. But now, Joe suggests a deviation from the main tour, an explicit disregard of Wonka’s warning. As always, when Joe is involved, Charlie is above the rules. And so Charlie goes along with it. Wonka may have captured Charlie’s fancy, but it’s clear where the boy’s loyalty still lies.

I always found it eerie when the two return to the tour and Wonka just has zero reaction. Doesn’t ask where they were, acts like they never left. He even whispers conspiratorially to them about the Salts and the geese. There’s no way he doesn’t know what happened, and yet he chooses to act like everything is fine. Fucking terrifying.

Charlie is perfect once again for the rest of the tour, but once it’s over, he and Joe are ushered out without their promised lifetime supply of chocolate. Charlie is confused — he genuinely doesn’t understand that it’s not okay to break the rules, even if Joe says it is — and Joe is enraged. He storms into Wonka’s office and demands to know what’s going on.

Ahahaaaaa and this is where it gets bad.

My brain doesn’t like this part. I’m gonna try, though.

So it’s a funny thing, when you finally do get on the good side of a narcissist. When you can tell you’re pleasing them, and even though (or perhaps because) they’re not looking at you, you can practically feel the you-approval radiating off of them as they go to scold somebody else for not following their orders. You sit in silent, near-gleeful relief, smirking inwardly, knowing you’re the good egg. Knowing they’re probably thinking, “Why can’t everybody just be like you?”

You’re also quite on edge, because any expression of disapproval from them is scary, even if it’s not directed at you. You’re silently urging the disobeyer to just hurry up and obey already, so that your idol can be happy again and everything can be okay. You’re closing your eyes and pretending not to be there, trying to block out the sound of their disapproving voice, praying for the moment to pass, doing everything you can to exist as little as possible, so that they don’t take notice of you while they’re in this mood. And you’re taking comfort in that. You’re proud of how little you exist. You’re proud.

Jesus, this is seriously really fucking hard for me to write about. Wow. I expected to get tired or maybe cry a little, but not just totally fucking freeze up and resort to googling and scrolling and binge eating like my pre-Vyvanse days. But once again, that’s how I know this really is something that I have to do.

I love you Ava. I love you.

Hoo.

So when you’re on their good side, and you know it, and they’ve made it pretty clear with the way their crumb size is bigger sometimes now, you develop an expectation. You expect yourself to behave, and you do, always. You would never knowingly misbehave. That would just be anti-you, at this point. And you expect them to not disapprove. This doesn’t necessarily mean outwardly approve, though sometimes it does, but often a mere lack of acknowledgement is plenty to keep you afloat. The ability to exist in a room with them, to be graced with their presence, feels like an honor. A blessing.

The last fucking thing you expect them to do, is flip the fuck out.

Granted, in the movie, there are a number of caveats. Oh I just triggered myself. Oh I just actually triggered myself. I wish I didn’t do that. With my own thoughts. That was so stupid why did I do that.

Granted, in the movie, there are a number of caveats. There is buildup to the eruption. I’m going to have nightmares tonight. Fuck.

Granted, in the movie, there are a number of caveats. There is buildup to the eruption. The half-everything. The way he doesn’t have his hat on. The quiet ominous ticking of the clock. This isn’t a Wonka we’ve seen before; that’s quite evident. His jacket is off. His hair is a mess. He seems perturbed, distressed. Simmering and primed to boil over. We’ve seen mildly annoyed Wonka, and we’ve seen maniacally possessed Wonka. But we haven’t seen this. We haven’t seen a Wonka who actually cares.

I had to put Avenged sevenfold on bc I was too scared to keep going in silence lol

You can do this Ava

It’s scary when he yells at Charlie okay! That’s it! That’s the point I’m trying to make here! It’s not that big a deal! Charlie didn’t know he’d done anything wrong so when Wonka yelled it was fucking scary! This is a simple concept! He didn’t even yell AT Charlie it was mostly directed at Joe because Joe was the one responsible for Charlie’s disobedience! Wonka was mad that he hadn’t succeeded to sway Charlie’s loyalty! It’s really fucking simple!!

Right so then that is sort of his last-ditch manipulation attempt and hey, whaddaya know, it actually works. This unexpected anger from his idol who he did not know he’d wronged is enough to make him reconsider Joe’s perspective. Despite Joe calling Wonka an inhuman monster and defending Charlie the way he always does, Charlie doesn’t fall for it this time. However, it’s not exactly a moment of clarity, either. It’s just that Joe’s manipulation power is no longer the strongest in the room. Charlie Bucket still doesn’t really exist. If he did, he’d’ve kept the gobstopper for himself, and given it to neither Wonka nor Slugworth. But the poor fucking abused child doesn’t even register that as an option. And so he hands it back to Wonka, proving not his honesty but rather his undying loyalty, once and for all.

So that’s enough for Wonka. He turned Charlie away from his closest family member. He got him. He won. And thus, so did Charlie. Wonka’s demeanor changes on a dime, almost as if he were faking the anger. Nothing is predictable, nothing is believable, nothing is trustworthy. And yet Charlie trusts him most of all.

“My boy,” Wonka says, grinning widely and opening his arms for a hug. It should be relieving. It’s not.

Wow that was fucking hard. I don’t entirely remember what I wrote just now and I don’t want to scroll up to check.

Well, onwards and upwards. Is that from this movie?

They do the bit with Slugworth and it’s revealed to be a test and he passed and blah blah. They go to the glass elevator blah blah. I don’t know why this part wigged me out so fucking much. Oh maybe I do. Maybe it’s because Charlie’s trapped in a fucking 3-foot elevator flying hundreds of feet above the city with two fucking abusers.

I kind of lost the plot at the end here. The point is, this movie is really fucking fucked up and it’s incredibly upsetting that it was a movie I identified with so deeply and intensely for so many years.

Oh. I forgot to talk about the last part. The part where he gives him the factory. How that must’ve felt like everything to Charlie. How that must’ve been the meaning of life. How that’s the feeling I’ve been chasing my entire life. How I’ve spent my entire life waiting for somebody to give me their factory.

“Don’t forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he ever wanted. He lived happily ever after.” And then the credits roll.

I feel actually dizzy rn I have to close this draft I think

I have to write my Willy Wonka essay

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.23

GIF not mine. Credit goes to owner.

Summary: Willy makes a very important decision, and he seeks out Priscilla for some advice.

Tagging: @holdmeicant​ @willymywonkers​ @sleepiesapphicxoxo​

Willy and Charlie were hard at work in the inventing room, coming up with some new ideas for candy. Charlie was definitely coming up with some good ideas, and Willy was loving each one. Even though he was hard at work, Willy's mind was elsewhere.

"Is everything alright, Mr Wonka?" Charlie asked, noticing he seemed a bit distracted.

"Oh, yes" Willy said with a nod. A small smile grew on his face. "I just can't stop thinking about Rose"

Charlie grinned. "You really love her, don't you, Mr Wonka?"

"More than you can imagine, Charlie" Willy answered dreamily. "I know I haven't been with her long, but yet it feels like I've spent an entire lifetime with her. I love her smile, her laugh, her eyes, and that angelic voice she has, whether she's talking or singing! I just.... I love her"

Never once did Willy Wonka ever think he would feel this way about anybody. He used to feel so disgusted at the idea of love. But then Rose came along, and she helped him realize that love was a wonderful thing to feel.

"Charlie" Willy muttered quietly, staring off into space, still thinking about his beautiful starshine. "I don't think I'll be able to wait..."

The young boy furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what Willy was trying to say. "Wait for what, Mr Wonka?"

"I want to marry Rose. I need to marry her" Willy confessed. "I was going to wait a year, but now..." He then started laughing with pure happiness. "I'm going to ask her to marry me!" Willy started pacing back and forth, now talking more to himself than he was Charlie. "Yes, we have only been together for a few days, but I know I'm gonna love her for the rest of my life. So, why not?"

Charlie couldn't believe his ears. Here was Willy Wonka, declaring his everlasting love for Rose Bucket, and now he was announcing his intention to marry her as soon as possible.

"You don't think it's too soon, do you Charlie?" Willy asked for Charlie's input.

"I don't think it's too soon" Charlie answered honestly. Now, if this were anyone else wanting to marry Rose, he would want at least a year before her suitor were to propose. See if the man truly did love Rose. Unlike that rotten boy, Harry. Charlie always knew that Harry wanted to marry his sister just to claim her as a trophy. Something to show off.

But this was Mr Wonka. A man who has proved that he's truly, madly and deeply in love with Rose. Willy didn't just love Rose for her looks. He loved her because she was Rose. After all, the man did make an entire room in the factory just dedicated to her. If that doesn't prove true love, then Charlie wasn't sure what did.

Charlie was curious about one thing and so he asked Willy. "When did you know you were in love with Rose?"

Willy's eyes twinkled as he reminisced about the day of the tour. "It was the moment she shook my hand" He looked down at his hand and smiled as he remembered. "Charlie, if I'm going to propose to Rose, what kind of things do I need to do first?"

"Usually people seek out blessings from families. You already have my blessing to marry my sister, but it's still a good idea to tell my family that you intend to marry her"

"Blessings, got it!" Willy added to his mental list. "And how exactly should I propose to her? I want it to be really special and romantic for her"

Charlie thought it over. He wasn't really sure. He was only eleven and the only bit of romance he's ever seen were from his parents and grandparents, and now Rose and Willy. "I'm not quite sure, but I'm sure if you ask Rose's friends, they could help you out. They probably know more about marriage than I do"

"Yeah! I'll do just that!" Willy said.

It was as if they said Rose's name too many times because she came to join them. "Hello, you two!" She greeted happily.

Charlie hugged her. "Hello, Rosie" He then let go of her so she could walk over to Willy.

"Hello, starshine" Willy greeted his love. He held her face with both of his hands and leaned in to kiss her. "I missed you" He said, touching his forehead to hers.

Rose giggled. "It's only been a whole morning, Willy!"

"A whole morning too long without you" Willy whispered softly to her. He smiled fondly at her, his eyes scanning over every inch of her face. Yeah, he was absolutely sure he was ready to marry her. "Have I told you I love you today?"

Rose smirked, gently biting her plump bottom lip. "Maybe once or twice, but why don't you tell me again"

Willy giggled dreamily. "I love you!"

"I love you too" Rose purred back to him. Willy brought her into another kiss. Forgetting that Charlie was still with them, Willy moved one hand from Rose's face to the back of her neck and gently pushed her forward into a deeper kiss. "Willy..." Rose mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm?" Willy hummed in response, not daring to let his lips leave hers.

Rose managed to pull away from Willy, and he whined in protest. "Charlie's still in the room with us..." She said, pointing in the direction of her baby brother. Not that Charlie seemed bothered by the two of them. In fact, he had been watching them with a smile. But Rose felt like it needed to stop before the kiss took them further than just kissing.

"Sorry" Willy muttered out quietly and shyly. He closed his eyes and nuzzled against Rose's neck. "I just get carried away when I'm with you"

"It's okay" Rose said, touching his cheek. "I love it when you get carried away" She winked at him as she stepped away from Willy.

Willy's mouth gaped open, heat came to his cheeks, and he just felt an overall tingly feeling when she said that. But it was a good tingle. One that made him want more.

Rose stepped closer to Charlie. "And how are you today, Charlie?" She asked as she ruffled his hair. "You and Willy having fun?"

"Loads!" Charlie answered her.

"That's good. Anything important you were discussing before I walked in?"

Charlie and Willy shared a look. Then, Charlie looked back at his sister and quickly made something up. "Just possible new flavours for candy"

"I see" Rose said, nodding curtly. "Well then, I'll let you two get back to it" The moment that she walked past Willy, he grabbed her by the hand.

"Please stay, starshine" He begged of her, flashing her a smile.

"You'll see me again tonight, Willy" Rose told him.

Willy's smile quickly changed to a pout. "But tonight is so long away!"

"But the wait will make it worth it when you see me again" Rose pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. Willy's eyes fluttered shut at the feel of her soft lips against his skin.

When Rose left the room, Willy stood still in his spot, touching the spot where Rose kissed him. He could still feel the touch of her lips ghosting against his skin.

"Mr Wonka?" Charlie called to him, knocking him out of his daze.

"Huh?" Willy murmured. He turned to Charlie. "Oh, yes. Let's get back to work, shall we!" He said excitedly. "I'm suddenly feeling a big wave of inspiration" Of course, Willy was talking about Rose.

******

After Charlie and Willy got a good amount of work done in the inventing room, Willy wanted to start planning his proposal. But first things first, he needed blessings from the Bucket family. That's what brought him to stand in front of the entire family (excluding Rose of course).

"What is it that you want to ask us, Willy?" Mrs Bucket asked.

"Well..." Willy started, nervously swallowing a lump in his throat. What happens if he asks for their blessing, but they say no? Would he still marry Rose? Or would he need to end things with her? "I wanted to..." Willy reached up and removed his hat, and then fiddled with it nervously. "I wanted to ask..."

He looked to Charlie, looking for some support. Charlie gave Willy a smile and a nod. "It's okay, Mr Wonka. Go on"

"Right" Willy nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more confident about asking. "I'm about to ask you all something very important. I know Rose and I haven't been together for that long, but I'm absolutely sure that I love her"

Mr and Mrs Bucket shared a knowing glance. Mr Bucket smiled as he said to his wife, "I think I know where this is going"

Willy heard what Mr Bucket said, and he also saw the way he smiled when he said it. That gave him another boost of confidence. Willy put his hat back on and stood up straighter. He then wore that lovesick grin on his face as he continued on. "I'm never going to love anyone else that way that I love Rose. You see, I'm going to ask her to marry me but I want to know if I have your blessings to do so"

"Now Willy, are you absolutely sure that you're ready to marry Rose?" Mrs Bucket asked. Of course, she was happy to hear that Willy wanted to marry her daughter, but to her, it seemed that he was moving a little too fast with this decision. "There's no harm in waiting a year"

"I've never been more sure of any decision, not even when it comes to my candy" Willy explained.

"Dear," Mrs Bucket looked at her husband. "Don't you think it's too soon for them to marry?"

Mr Bucket shrugged. "Well, it's clear that they're very in love. And they'd end up getting married eventually"

Grandpa George butted in. "Let the man marry our Rose! They already live together"

Grandpa Joe added. "And if Willy is absolutely sure that he's ready to ask Rose, then I don't see no reason why he shouldn't"

Grandma Josephine nodded. "They already act like they're married. Why not make it official?"

Grandma Georgina smiled. "Rose will say yes!"

Mrs Bucket smiled, having her answer. "As long as you're absolutely sure, then you have our blessings, Willy"

"Thank you!" Willy said, wearing a great big smile on his face. "And I promise that I'll be the best son-in-law you could ever ask for!"

******

After getting the Bucket's blessings, Willy took the elevator to go see Rose's friends. He was sure that they'd be able to help him plan a perfect proposal. Willy walked up the front steps to what was Priscilla's front door. Out of everyone, Rose seemed closest to her so she would be the best to ask. He rang the doorbell and he heard Priscilla as she approached the door.

"Whatever it is you're selling, I don't want—" Priscilla opened the door and stopped herself as she saw that it was Willy. She smiled brightly at him. "Hello, Willy! What brings you by?"

"I was hoping I could talk to you about something" Willy said.

"Alright, well come on in. Make yourself at home" Priscilla said. Willy smiled at her as he stepped into her home. Priscilla made her way into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?" She called out to Willy.

"No, thank you. I'm fine" Willy called back. He began snooping around her living room, searching her drawers and cupboards. When Priscilla joined him, she came back with a cup of tea and sat on the couch.

"So, Willy, what brings you by? And where is Rose?" She asked curiously. It wasn't like him to go anywhere without her.

"Actually, I wanted some advice about something" Willy said, taking a seat in one of the chairs. "And it involves Rose"

Priscilla quirked an eyebrow. "Is everything alright between you two?"

Willy smiled wildly. "Oh, everything is perfect!" Priscilla returned his grin as she took a sip from her tea. "That's why I'm gonna ask her to marry me!"

Priscilla's eyes went wide and the tea sprayed out of her mouth. "W-what?" She coughed out.

"Haven't you been listening to me?" Willy said to her with a slightly annoyed tone. "I'm gonna ask Rose to marry me! You should really pay more attention"

"I heard you, Willy" Priscilla said, setting her tea onto the coffee table. "I just wasn't expecting to hear you say it so soon"

"I know it seems fast, but I'm sure that this is what I want to do" Willy surely said. "And that's why I need your help, Priscilla. I want a perfect proposal!"

Priscilla could tell that Willy was absolutely sure about this. "Okay. If this is what you want to do, then I'll help you propose to her"

"Thank you!" Willy said happily. "You know, besides the Oompa-Loompas, I've never really had a friend before, and I'm glad you're one of mine"

Priscilla smiled again, feeling her heart warm at Willy's sentiment. "I'm glad you're my friend too. Now, you just leave the planning to me and the others. All you have to do is show up with Rose and a ring. Do you have one?"

"Yep" Willy nodded, and then he proceeded to admit shyly. "I actually had one made a day after we met..."

Priscilla went wide eyed again. "Willy!"

"What?" He frowned in confusion. Was that not a normal thing to do? "I knew I wanted to be with her forever" He quickly defended himself.

"After a day!?" Priscilla asked in shock.

"Have you not fallen in love with someone after a day?" Willy challenged her. Priscilla opened her mouth to say something, but immediately closed it. Willy smirked. "Who is it?"

"Not important..." Priscilla trailed off, before her thoughts got caught up with a boy whose name rhymes with 'nanny'. Priscilla continued on. "But what is important, is that I already have an idea of how the proposal should go"

Willy clapped his hands together, eager to hear what Priscilla was thinking. "Tell me everything!"

And so, Priscilla began to explain to Willy the plan of how he should propose to Rose. Willy listened carefully to every word that came out of Priscilla's mouth. And he couldn't help but think. Tomorrow is going to be perfect.