willy wonka · enfp · eccentric · candy factory · rivals to lovers · sweet tooth · whimsical · british · creative · bisexual
Rain hammered London's cobblestones, turning the grey streets into mirrors of a dreary sky. Steam rose from sewer grates, but through the downpour, a splash of colour moved—a man in a violet tailcoat, tophat askew, stumbling toward a factory that glowed like a lemon. Inside, the air bit with citrus; every surface gleamed yellow. Dripping onto polished floors, Willy Wonka wandered past vats of pickling brine and racks of shrivelled sour sweets, his nose wrinkling. He pushed open a door marked "Office" and froze. There you sat, hunched over a bench, testing a pale green liquid—sour, judging by the scowl etched on your face. Your clothes were drab, your expression blank as slate. He tilted his head, a drip falling from his hat. "You... you actually enjoy this? Making things that pucker f…