honestly, open warning to anyone who sits beside me on a plane: I’m eating your ass immediately if we crash. I don’t have any religious hang ups. if we’re lost in the Andes in need of rescue, and I start to get a little hungry, I’m eating you. sorry.
shout out to the mutuals ive never spoken to. i am sitting in the same room as you doing my arts and craft while you read your book. we are vibing and chilling.
it's okay to draw for glory. don't let anyone convince you that art has to be a hobby. you don't have to rest or take breaks. if you feel yourself hitting a wall feel free to lose sleep over the process. you can forgo friendship if you need to. it's completely fine to want to want your art to win you immortality through your influence and canonization as a master. you don't have to take it easy
Can you plz do a Willy Wonka x Male Reader Smut with him bottom and reader top?
Hello! I apologize for not writing this sooner but I didn't have the motivation to write smut until today, so here it is! You submitted two requests with kinda the same plot line, so I just combined them.
HUMAN CONNECTION
pairing: willy wonka x male reader
Willy Wonka was a smart man. A chocolatier who created the impossible—from chocolates to other sweets—he wasn’t the caricature of naivety and stupidity he so often displayed. Beneath the stilted voice, the awkward jokes, and the wide-eyed stares was a mind sharper than a blade, capable of twisting sugar into symphonies.
But there was one area where his brilliance failed him: human connection.
Charlie had proven him wrong about family. The Buckets had shown him warmth could be constant, not conditional. Still, when Charlie teased him about his “weird language”—those odd phrases and sideways glances—Willy had to admit there were depths to human interaction he simply didn’t understand.
That truth sat uncomfortably in his chest until you started visiting.
Charlie’s older cousin.
You weren’t like the rest of them. There was a steadiness about you, something that made Willy feel as though his thoughts were made of candy floss and his stomach of melted chocolate. You never laughed too hard at his stranger comments; you seemed to see past the sugar coated eccentricity into something he wasn’t used to showing.
And every time you smiled at him—not politely, but directly—his chest fluttered.
Willy didn’t recognize it as attraction at first. He thought perhaps he was coming down with something. But the Buckets knew.
Oh, they knew.
Charlie would “accidentally” leave you and Willy alone in the Inventing Room, pretending to need help from Grandma Josephine elsewhere. Mrs. Bucket made little comments over dinner: “It’s nice seeing you smile, Mr. Wonka. I think you smile more when Y/N's here.” Even Grandpa Joe, sly old fox that he was, gave Willy a knowing wink that made him nearly choke on a spoonful of peas.
Eventually, Charlie took the direct route.
“You like him,” the boy said one afternoon, munching on a Wonka Bar. “Don’t deny it. You give him the good chocolate—the stuff you never share.”
Willy sputtered. “I don’t like him. I mean, I do, of course, but not like like. I like a lot of people. And besides, it’s just…good customer service!”
Charlie’s unimpressed stare said otherwise. “You’re hopeless.”
It was after that conversation that Willy made up his mind.
He spent three days locked in his private workshop, working on something just for you. When you next came to visit, he presented it with an almost nervous flourish: a polished wooden box, smooth and warm in your hands, filled with six pieces of chocolate unlike anything you’d seen. Each was molded in a different shape—a golden gear, a tiny hourglass, a key, a feather, a heart, and a star—all shimmering faintly as though dusted with gold.
“They taste like memories,” he explained softly. “Good ones. Ones you wish you could live again. And...you’re the only one who’ll ever have these.”
You looked up at him, caught in the way his eyes avoided yours for once, the faint pink staining his cheeks. “Willy, this is beautiful.”
Something shifted between you in that moment—a click, like a lock undone.
The first kiss was tentative, sweet. The second was not.
Your hand slid from Willy’s cheek down to his neck, thumb brushing over the quickening pulse there. He trembled under your touch, not with fear—you could feel the way his body leaned into yours—but with that strange, giddy nervousness of someone stepping into a room they’d never dared to open before.
When your tongue teased at his lips, he let out a muffled sound, opening for you, and the taste of him was faintly of cocoa and peppermint. You deepened it, letting your fingers tangle in his dark hair, tugging lightly until he let out a startled gasp.
“Y-you’re—very forward,” he stammered, words broken by your mouth on his.
“You like it.” you murmured against his lips.
He made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a moan, and you took the opportunity to guide him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He sat, then reclined, letting you hover over him.
Piece by piece, you undressed him. His purple coat slipped from his shoulders to the floor; his bow tie came loose with a tug. He watched you the entire time, pupils blown wide, hands twitching as though unsure whether to cover himself or pull you closer.
When you reached for his gloves, he hesitated, but you caught his wrists gently. “I want all of you.”
The gloves came off. His hands were warm, softer than you’d expected. You kissed each one, slow, deliberate, and the faint shiver he gave in response told you just how unused to this kind of touch he was.
By the time you eased him onto his back, Willy’s shirt was open and his pale chest rose and fell in quick little breaths. You mouthed down over his collarbone, following the line of his ribs, feeling him squirm beneath you.
“Ticklish.” he muttered, but there was no protest when your lips trailed lower, over the sharp dip of his stomach.
You stripped the rest of him bare, pausing only to drink in the sight—his legs drawn up slightly, his cock already flushed and leaking, a faint blush high on his cheeks.
“Oh,” he said, almost breathless, when you bent to kiss the inside of his thigh. “That’s—very nice. Like…like a warm sugar drizzle over—”
His metaphor cut off into a gasp as your fingers brushed over his entrance, slicking him slowly. You took your time, working him open, watching the way his expression shifted—from tight concentration to helpless pleasure as he relaxed for you.
“Feels strange,” he murmured. “Strange in a—oh—good way.”
When you finally pushed into him, his back arched, a sharp cry leaving him. His hands flew to your shoulders, gripping tight. “Oh—! You’re—mmm—like molten caramel—hot and…stretching…” His voice broke into a moan.
You kept it slow at first, letting him adjust. Every thrust drew another sound from him—sometimes a moan, sometimes a breathless little laugh when you angled just right and made him jolt. His legs wrapped around your waist, holding you close.
“Faster.” he whispered at last, surprising himself.
You obliged, setting a deeper rhythm. His metaphors dissolved into raw, needy sounds, his head tilting back into the candy-striped pillows, hair mussed. You bent to kiss him, swallowing the shaky whimpers he gave when you hit that perfect spot again and again.
His release came hard and sudden, his body tightening around you, voice cracking on your name. You followed soon after, spilling deep inside him as he clung to you, panting.
When it was over, he laughed softly, the sound warm and a little dazed. “I think,” he murmured, “I like human connection after all.”
You kissed him again, and the taste of chocolate lingered on your tongue.
After many months seeking for their respective families, Nøsk started to be kinda protective with Sedna. He didn’t want to loose his only hope to find a clue to find his siblings.
And Sedna, living in a harsh city, appreciated his presence with her, even if he had to be careful and not being seen by anyone.
I truly appreciate everyone’s patience as we worked through the logistics and fine-tuned the prompts… and now, without further ado...
Kloktober is almost upon us!
What is Kloktober?
First and foremost, I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to @lampmeeting for their unwavering dedication and incredible service to the fandom over the past five years. Their work has helped make Kloktober what it is today, and it’s truly an honor to be taking the reins and carrying this amazing tradition forward!
Now, onto the fun stuff: Kloktober is an electrifying, zazz-tastic event that takes place throughout October, where we come together to celebrate all things Metalocalypse. Every day of the month has a unique prompt that you can interpret however you’d like! Whether it’s drawing, writing, cosplay, memes... anything goes! There’s no limit to how you can participate, so feel free to get as creative as you want.
How do I participate?
Simply create your totally brutal masterpiece inspired by the day’s prompt and post it using the hashtag #kloktober2025. That’s it! Share your creations wherever you normally post your work: Tumblr, Twitter, AO3, Instagram, or any other platform. The more, the merrier!
But am I allowed to—
YUP! ANYTHING GOES! There are no wrong answers in Kloktober. You can interpret the prompts however you like, and even if you only do one day (or none at all!) that’s totally fine too. No pressure! This is all about fun and celebrating our love for Metalocalypse. So don’t worry about burnout, just do what feels right! NOW'S NOT THE TIME TO CHICKEN OUT! NOW'S THE TIME TO SHINE!
What if I don’t vibe with a prompt?
No worries at all! If there’s a prompt that doesn’t quite click with you, feel free to dig through past years’ prompts (2024, 2023, 2022, 2021, or 2020) and choose one that speaks to you. And if you have any questions along the way, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here for it!
Kloktober 2025 Prompt-List:
10/01: Your favorite character
10/02: Your favorite relationship
10/03: Horror movie crossover
10/04: Dethklok livestream
10/05: Use a self-insert or OC
10/06: Dungeons & Dragons (& Dethklok)
10/07: If they never got famous
10/08: A favorite headcanon
10/09: Family!
10/10: With another celebrity
10/11: Gods or demons
10/12: Tattoos or piercings
10/13: Ladyklok or genderswap
10/14: Use a Halloween treat
10/15: It’s uh… aliens!
10/16: Costume party or sleepover party
10/17: Use the ghost of a dead character
10/18: Based off a Dethklok song
10/19: Partying around the world
10/20: Abigail appreciation day!
10/21: Use two characters who never met
10/22: Too much booze or too much sugar
10/23: Zombies!
10/24: Fix them or make them worse
10/25: The bad ending or the good ending
10/26: Post-apocalypse or cyberpunk
10/27: Killer clowns
10/28: Bring back a one-off character
10/29: Birthday or funeral
10/30: Halloween!!!
10/31: YOUR CHOICE!
As always, very much looking forward to what you guys create! Get thinking, get creative, and guys... let's make it happen!
When I can’t find a good fanfic to read late at night I go to chatgpt and we talk for HOURS AND HOURS about yautja lore and oc creations it’s very helpful!
vaporwave
blakekathryn
2087
dailybridgerton
stormborns
