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#with milk chocolate
whack-patty · 1 year
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happybird16 · 1 year
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Doing an experiment
Please rb to expand my sample size!
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speltfields · 1 month
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[concerningly sweaty] i think he'd...grow a beard in the winter...!!!!!!!!!!
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daily-deliciousness · 3 months
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Chocolate panna cotta
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fullcravings · 4 months
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Matcha Rice Crispy Treat Christmas Trees
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bloodofgrapes · 1 year
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this kid is gonna be on so many anti anxiety medications one day
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sweetoothgirl · 1 month
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chocolate malted milk cake
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plusie · 10 months
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brosauce · 1 year
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we've all seen the new splatfest themes, and that's nice and all...
BUT WHICH ONE ARE YOU!?!?? 🍫
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inkskinned · 2 years
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it takes a really long time to unlearn but there's no such thing as "cheating" or "half-assing" being a person. if you need to leave the cabinet doors open, leave them open. microwave your tea. sit down in the shower. buy the eggmaker. use your phone to calculate tip.
it's mostly fake posterity rules. who cares if you microwave your dinners. who cares if you use instant coffee. who cares if you stop watching the show that got boring. we all have a different set of skills and a different life and taking care of yourself is fucking hard.
at the end of your life there will be no final scoreboard. nobody is going to judge you because you brushed your teeth in the shower. there will be no final count of the number of times you had the same meal five nights in a row. there will be no fanfare or party because you won at being a person - and no one will be disappointed that you never understood the point of using paper towels to dry your hands off after washing them.
yeah, in this world, people will put up a fuss. i've noticed some of the biggest fusses are over what you'll put in/on your body. the fact that i will regularly eat deli meat straight out of the bag makes a lot of people genuinely concerned for me. but here's the thing: sometimes that's the only way i'm getting any protein. my doctor says i am doing fine. i'm sticking to my weird snacks and calling it deconstructed charcuterie.
they'll say they're horrified because you take a shortcut. that's fine. it's just that it looks like a shortcut to them because they're on a different life path. these kinds of things stand out to them as important. that's fine too. but for you? you've got other things that already make you pretty hard working. and these tiny things - well, they're just clutter on your journey.
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lookingformoondrop · 6 months
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Hiiii! Thanks for writing for tcoal! If you have time can I get a yandere Andrew x reader? Thanks :)
Sure thing~ Once again, it seems highly unlikely that Ashley would let this obsession slide, so for the sake of the story, she's been bliped. Happy (late) Halloween! <3
Yandere! Andrew GravesxReader
TW: Yandere themes, possession, obsession, murder, implied kidnapping, intimidation, stalking, Andrew has a foul mouth (Y/N too), not proofread
♡1,438 WORDS♡
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Andrew Graves has a mask.
It's a very well crafted mask that's used to blend in with his peers, his friends, his girlfriends, his parents, and even himself.
It covers the dark parts of Andrew that even himself is too terrified to look at.
For if you look into the abyss, it looks back at you.
But when he met you, swinging back and forth at the playground swing, he could've sworn he heard something crack.
You were beautiful.
As he watched you, with the breeze blowing at your cute overalls and baggy shirt, god, so pretty.
Your smile could open the gates of the heavens. Your laugh could make rainbows last, your tears would be prettier than diamonds, and you in his cage would bring him closer to your hell.
He couldn't help but imagine you as some sort of art. Something valuable that wasn't ever to be touched by another person. Only seen by him, just him.
His mask cracked the more he looked at you.
That day started a life-long obsession.
He would venture to that park a few more times after that, until eventually introducing himself to you. Naive you, who believed him to be a kind and stoic person.
You weren't wrong, but it was your fault for thinking that's all it was.
Even if Andrew never admitted it to himself, the thought of you being his and ONLY his made his heart flutter.
How when you breathed, when you walked, when you spoke, when you laughed, it would all belong to him.
Those thoughts kept him awake at night, even if a light blush would always dust his cheeks.
As time went on, he learned that his dakmfk thoughts that he pushed to the back of his mind would only resurface when a man talked to you. Even a father-figure was enough to put him in a foul mood.
Andrew didn't say anything, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his blood boil.
"Andy? Are you okay? You've been glaring at the ground even since we walked past Mr. Mancho."
"Why do you even like him? He's so...weird," Mr. Mancho was an innocent looking math teacher, one that always smiled at the students. And yet, Andrew hated the fact he smiled at Y/N...he didn't like that very much.
"Weird? He's been pretty nice to me...," You scratched your chin in deep thought, "do you not like Mr. Mancho?"
Andrew looked up at your doe eyes and heard something crack again,
"...he keeps looking at my things."
Andrew justified his growing hatred.
Even as you shrugged away his weird moods whenever you talked to cousins, friends, and teachers, Andrew never lacked as your friend.
Through every obstacle, he'd be there to help you jump over them. Although he'd complain about jumping in the first place, he'd never leave you.
He'd care about your issues, he'd care for your wounds, and he'd listen to your problems.
Especially when you were bullied.
The keyword here is 'were'.
While in school, a boy had groped you. When confronting him about what happened, his friend group laughed at you, claiming that you were just making shit up for attention.
This had made you cry when you got home.
Something that Andrew instantly knew about...somehow.
"Jesus Y/N, what happened?"
"S- Some boy touched me, and- h-he then said I was just making it up for attention! My friends all believed him a-and I," you broke down in sobs as your day was retold to your best friend.
As you continued to share your day with Andrew, he remained completely silent.
Several times throughout the call, you'd check if he was even still on. Still, when you called out for him, he'd answer with praise for trying to stand up for yourself, no matter what they had said to you.
You didn't know it then, but Andrew was squeezing his pack of cigarettes so hard that by the time he had gotten off the phone with you, they were all broken.
The next week, when you came to school, authorities were there questioning all the students. When they came to you, it was explained that the boy who groped you was killed and stuffed into his parent's basement freezer. Along with his friends, who all mysterious died in the forest, with some sort of satanic pentagon painted beneath their bodies.
You told the police you knew nothing, and all your friends who had doubted you came to you in an instant with apologies.
When you had told Andrew everything that happened he had only said,
"How strange."
As the years went on and you grew older, your friendship with Andrew always stayed strong.
Andrew would never say it, but when he kissed your cheek or patted your head, he was screaming,'I love you.'
But his dark thoughts, the ones he kept far back in his mind, would only double.
"Andy! Guess what happened today?"
"Hah?" Andrew turned his head from his spot on the couch.
"This cute boy at my job said he would love to take me out to dinner sometime!" You smiled brightly at the sly possibility that your bad streak with love would finally be over.
Every guy that ever walked into your life promptly bolted for the door the moment you opened it.
Andrew always told you that those guys just didn't appreciate you enough and that someone who bolted just like that was a quitter. Ashley?
But even then, you never gave up. Despite the long list of guys who ghosted you randomly.
"Oh...you said no, right? "
"What?" You walked over to Andrew from the door of the apartment. "Why would I say no...?"
Andrew looked at you with a dark shadow over his face, "Y/N, there are millions of creeps and perverts that are going to ask you out. They're only leering at you for your body."
You frowned at this notion,
"When you go to your next shift, tell him you don't want to anymore." Andrew thought for a moment and then shook his head.
"What's wrong?"
Andrew looked at your confused eyes.
"Just realized I have to get up early tomorrow to take out the trash."
When you went back to work the next day, he had quit just as suddenly.
Sad and upset over the millionth guy that ghosted and dumped you, you'd sulk to Andrew. Who would always make you warm cup of tea.
"Dumbass, you just keep picking quitters. It's not because of you."
"But Andy, I haven't had a boyfriend in years! At this point I'll die alone, probably with you right there to bury me with my hundreds of cats."
Andrew laughed at that and reached his arm around your shoulder.
"Just wait a little longer Y/N, I'm sure there's some jackass out there waiting for you."
"Yeah, right." You smiled at Andrew, "You're the only jackass I know, though. "
You leaned your head on Andrew's shoulder and began to fall to sleep rather quickly.
"The only...jackass...in my life... Andy, I'm sleepy."
Andrew took a sip of his tea and placed the cup far away from your drink.
"Rest Y/N. When you wake up, you'll have me right there besides you."
"Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you, you're my best friend."
Andrew patted your hair as you drifted off to a drug-induced slumber.
"Yes, I'm your best friend," Andrew stared off to the distance as he thought about it.
"Soon, your only friend," He nodded at that statement, "Yes, the only friend you'll ever need."
His mask, although long forgotten, had finally cracked open.
You were his. Like a forbidden piece of art, it belonged to him. He was your painter, and as the painter, he declared you to be covered up. Only his retinas were allowed to peer at you.
It's your fault he went through all this effort to keep you safe. He's obligated as the painter to keep his art safe from dirty influences.
He's mildly disappointed in you whenever you speak to another man, but it's okay. It's his job after all to stalk the said man and hack his tongue off for even going to speak to you.
No matter how many guys he has to threaten, no matter how many people he's had to hack at, no matter how many people he's had to kidnap, it wasn't his fault.
It's yours.
All the blame is on his sweet, naive, poor, Y/N.
Still as innocent the day he found you at the playground.
"Still mine..." He mumbled as he stared at your sleeping face.
"Only mine."
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Thanks for the ask!<3
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nat-stimmy · 2 months
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Cookies and Milk! X / X / X X / X / X X / X / X
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caleb-monday · 1 year
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Rainy day fun
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daily-deliciousness · 20 days
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Chocolate tres leches
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excuseme-greentea · 5 months
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I don't know why this is the most romantic thing to me but it is
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becca-e-barnes · 10 months
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I’m literally drooling over the thought of sensitive Bucky whimpering and whining while fucking your tits and thighs he’s so pathetic and needy all he wants is to make you feel good and to fill you with his cum even if it overstimulates him
Okay, tit fucking is great and all but thigh fucking is SO underrated in my humble opinion. Could just be the fact I've got a small chest though lmao
It's so fun when you're already really into it and the insides of your thighs are all slick. I feel like Bucky would lose it, getting to see your face and look in your eyes and enjoy your body.
It's a nice one to do while laid on your side, facing each other. Although the angle isn't quite right for him to slip inside you, it's fun to explore the other ways your bodies can steal pleasure from one another.
"This isn't going to work, sweetheart." You can't help but laugh, having already tried everything you can think of to make the height difference work. There's no way to keep this romantic and intimate in that position because there's just no chance of aligning your bodies properly to allow him to press inside you.
"Maybe not. But it feels nice anyway." His eyes flutter shut, gliding his dick over the smooth, soft, warm insides of your thighs, encouraged by how slick and easy your arousal makes the movement.
You adjust yourself to bring your other thigh on top of his length, closing him in on both sides.
You're wet enough that friction doesn't impede his movement too much and there's something oddly romantic about it. Maybe it's his hand smoothing the back of your head or his other hand up your back, pulling your body closer to his.
It's so intimate, watching his face as he whines your name, rutting senselessly against your thighs. The little flush to his cheeks is beautiful and you can't resist kissing the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. The thick duvet on top of you both, coupled with your combined body heat means the room is far hotter than you'd planned.
You take a second to reach between your bodies, spreading your wet folds and readjusting his length, letting him drag his cock against your neglected clit with each stroke and oh, that's pretty mind-blowing.
"O-oh my God." He whines, desperately fucking himself against your wet cunt, rather than into it. It's a different kind of pleasure to being inside you and while they're not comparable sensations, it doesn't stop this from feeling fantastic.
"Fuck, that's good." You groan, rolling your hips to meet his. Your fingers dip between you once more, gathering some of your slick arousal, using it to glide your fingertips over the underside of his shaft and over his balls.
"Holy shit, that's - fuck." Bucky's hardly got a coherent thought left in his head. He's closed in on both sides by your wet, soft thighs and now your fingers are giving him a different sensation underneath while pressing him against your soaked sex.
"I know, baby. Feels good, doesn't it?" Your fingertips trail lightly back and forth over the underside of his shaft, focusing on the inch or so beneath the tip.
"I can't... I need to cum." He groans, thrusting frantically, clinging to your body to keep you close. Within a few seconds, you feel his dick pulse under your fingertips, his cum coating the inside of your thighs in hot, thick, messy spurts.
He doesn't waste a second, kissing your forehead before kissing your neck and whispering "Good girl. Now let me watch you get yourself off with my cum on your fingertips."
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