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brattyfics · 7 months ago

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Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink.

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane.

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably.

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

#terry richmond #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x black!reader #rebel ridge #rebel ridge fanfiction

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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I’m obsessed with Carnis. How would they respond to reader making a really nice meal with like candles and flowers and the whole shebang?

"Carnis! Time to eat!"

Carnis hurries excitedly into the kitchen. They had hoped to get something on the stove before you got home, but exhaustrated all their energy cleaning up the living room earlier in the day and prepping the meat they planned to use for dinner prior to that. They pray you saw it on the top shelf- but as they enter the kitchen they note a surprising lack of the fragrance of cooked meat - picking up a hint of vanilla and strawberries in its stead. The same scent of the candles you found them sniffing after wandering off the last time you took them shopping with you.

The hybrid squints against the darkness of the room. Soft, flickering lights illuminate the table, and the display set around it. A small group of candles placed safely feet away from a bowl full of what looked to be cooked oatmeal, a smaller bowl of fresh fruit at its side. All their favorites too. Apples, bananas, raspberries. They become acutely aware of the emptiest in their stomach as the candles' flame reflects the glossy finish of freshly washed fruit.

Carnis flinches as the legs of a chair drag over the floor boards. You gesture towards the seat, patting its fluffy cushion. "Come on. Sit down before it gets cold."

The hunger in their eyes flickers to curiosity as they point at themselves. "For... me?"

You laugh as it they weren't stating the obvious. "Of course it's for you! You have to eat too, don't you?"

Carnis looks at their outstretched palms. Drops of water beat against their pale skin, eyes stinging as it falls. They place a hand to their cheek, wetness glazing their shaking fingers. They're... crying... Why? They only cry when bad things happen, but you've never done anything bad to them. The beat of their heart becomes irregular as well. It pumps so fast they feel it in their fingertips and hear it drum in their ears. What's happening? It scares them, but a piece of their mind remains at ease. That ease channels through the rest of their body as they breath in the scent of the candles. As you take their hand and guide them into the chair. As you feed them the first bite of their meal and giggle at the way their eyes light up.

It'd take a while for them to learn what that feeling truly was, but the longer they stayed with you - they realized it's what it meant to feel loved.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere blurb #Carnis my oc #soft yandere #yandere drabble

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sizzlingcandyjellyfishhhhhh · 1 month ago

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oatmeal chocolate chip energy bites

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ncity-agere · 2 months ago

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imagine hoshi with a calm little 😭😭

Caregiver!Hoshi has so much energy and it’s hard for you to keep up sometimes. He likes to dance and play and jump and dash so much that someone could look at you two and guess that he were the age regressor instead of you.

You were always more calm than him -regressed or not. Almost always, Soonyoung was energetic and rowdy, always on 100% and always playing the role of Hoshi. And you loved Soonyoung a lot but his energy was too much sometimes.

Especially now, early in the morning.

“Good morning! It’s time for breakfast, cub!” Soonyoung beamed, hopping on your bed and squishing you, shaking you around a bit as if you hadn’t been asleep only a minute ago. “And it’s gonna be the yummiest breakfast ever!”

“But… but I sleepy, Tiger.” You murmur, fully awake now. You really should be used to his energy but you’re not, not when his default volume is hollering.

It isn’t even a matter of being sleepy, really. You were just a lot more mellow than Soonyoung was.

“On my back! Come on, we’re going on an adventure!” He crouched down, ready to give you a piggy-back ride. But when he realized you weren’t in the mood for an adventure, he sulked and stood back up. “Or… not.” He sighed, watching as you slipped out of your bed in your pajamas and slunk down the hall without him.

Soonyoung followed you to the kitchen. He dropped to the floor and forward rolled, jumping to his feet to do a flip forwards and then a cartwheel down the hallway, landing several feet from you.

“Parkour! Did you like that, cub?!” He asked, grinning from ear to ear. His hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed, but you weren’t paying him much mind at all.

“It was… nice.” You admitted, not quite paying attention to his fast-paced antics.

You followed him down the hall to the messy kitchen, sticky oatmeal on the countertops and dishes piled high, undone. You tried your hardest to ignore the looming chores, trying to stay in your small headspace.

“Not hungry.” You tried, ignoring your rumble little tummy.

Soonyoung pouted and jutted his lip out, looking at you with pathetic glassy eyes. “I made… I made oatmeal for you. Your favorite kind.” He pointed at the table where a colorful bowl with cartoon characters sat, hot, yummy oatmeal in it.

There’s a pause before you sit at the table and nod. “Okay. I try to eat.”

“You’re the best, y/n!” Soonyoung cheers a little too loudly. He brightens up, sitting in front of you and picking up his spoon. “I was thinking we could go to the park today and play tag. We could maybe call up some of your little friends and hang out with them, wouldn’t that be so super fun?” He asked, picking up a large spoonful of oatmeal.

You nodded curtly. It did sound like a lot of fun, but you just didn’t have the energy and enthusiasm that your caregiver did.

Soonyoung started to make loud plane noises, whooshing sounds as he lowered the spoon closer to your mouth. You frowned at the over-the-top actions to make you eat something as simple as oatmeal and started to protest.

But as much as you wanted to ask Soonyoung to calm down a little bit, one glance at the look on his face told you it’d be better to just suck it up and eat the oatmeal.

Not everyone would “here-comes-the-airplane” for you, you know. It’s a very, very special honor.

You sighed at the obnoxiously loud plane noises Soonyoung was making, opening your mouth to take a bite of the oatmeal on the spoon. You had to admit, it was pretty tasty. And the airplane wasn’t so bad. Still, today was gonna be one looooooong day.

#agere #little space #kpop agere #age regression #sfw #drabble #k pop #kpop #sfw little post #x reader #svt agere #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #hoshi fluff

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fullcravings · 8 months ago

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Seedy Tahini Snack Bites (Nut-Free!)

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marinersapartmentc0mplex · 2 months ago

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Never Let Me Go

Chapter One: New Americana

Ao3 link (you can read the next seven chapters on ao3)

The morning erupted like a poorly orchestrated symphony, a cacophony of shouts, stomping feet, and the occasional thud of something – or someone – hitting the floor.

“Elena! Where’s my other shoe?!” Leo’s voice cracked, high-pitched with panic, as he shuffled through a pile of mismatched sneakers by the door.

Elena groaned, crouching low to scan under the couch in the living room, hair half-brushed, and an expression teetering on the edge of patience. Her fingers brushed something rubbery and damp. “Found it!” she announced, holding up the grimy sneaker like a trophy. “Now put it on, and don’t forget to brush your teeth, or else Laura will have your head.”

Leo grabbed the shoe and bolted for the bathroom, where someone was already pounding on the door. “Hurry up in there!”

Elena sighed, rising to her feet and glancing around the messy living room. She had only tidied it last night and now it looked like a hurricane had passed through it. Grabbing the wooden comb she had been using to brush her hair out before she was interrupted, she ran it through her brown locks a few times before stuffing it into her backpack.

“Hey, who used up all the hot water?!” Gavin, the oldest in the house, emerged from the hallway with damp hair and a scowl. He towered over the others, radiating the grumpiness of a teenager forced to coexist with young children and toddlers.

“Not me!” a voice piped up from the kitchen, followed by a loud crash.

“Toby! What did you do now?” Elena yells out exasperatedly, hurrying towards the kitchen to investigate.

Toby, a wiry eleven-year-old with the energy of a coked-up squirrel, stood frozen in front of an overturned chair and an entire box of spilled cereal. He glanced at Elena with wide, guilty eyes.

“I- I didn’t mean to! The chair moved on its own!”

“The chair moved ? Really?” Elena shot back, stepping over the mess to grab a broom from the corner and pressing it to Toby’s chest with a glare. “Clean this up before Laura sees, or we’ll all be spending the rest of the year shovelling oatmeal down our throats instead of lucky charms.”

The twins, Libby and Harley, were arguing over the last pack of strawberry Pop-Tarts, their voices overlapping in a high-pitched symphony of complaints.

“I had it first!”

“No, you didn’t! You always get the strawberry Pop-Tarts!”

Elena wedged herself between the siblings, plucking the foil package from their clutches. “Guys, it’s just a Pop-Tart. Break it in half and call it a day.” She ripped the pastry in two and handed each child a piece. “See? Problem solved.”

Gavin stomped past her, still grumbling about the hot water as he made a beeline for the stove. The smell of freshly cooked eggs lingered in the air as Mr. Jansen, their care worker, flipped the last omelet onto a plate. Gavin snagged it before anyone else could blink.

“Hey!” Elena protested, glaring at him.

“What?” Gavin shrugged, already shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “I’ve got a big soccer game today. Gotta fuel up.”

“That was supposed to be for everyone,” Elena snapped, pointing at the now-empty skillet.

“Survival of the fittest,” Gavin said with a smirk, scraping up the last bite.

“More like survival of the fastest,” she muttered, yanking open a cabinet to grab the backup instant oatmeal Laura keeps for herself. She tore a packet open and dumped it into a bowl, shooting a glare at Gavin as he swaggered out of the room, his plate practically licked clean.

By the time the clock hit seven thirty, it was a miracle that everyone was out of the house in one piece. Elena waved goodbye to them, walking to Gotham Academy while they caught the bus to Gotham Heights.

Her boots hit the pavement with a steady rhythm, matching the beat of the song playing in her ears. “New Slang” by The Shins - a perfect fit for the cool morning. The soft strumming of guitars and the laid-back vocals wrapped around her like a familiar blanket, something that calmed the nervous edge she carried with her every day. The melody, light and a little melancholic, felt like the city itself - alive, but with a strange sense of detachment.

She passed a corner café where the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee swirled in the air, mixing with the pungent tang of street vendors hawking roasted chestnuts and hot dogs. A pair of police officers stood on the corner, chatting in hushed tones, their uniforms stark against the dull gray of the morning. Their conversation was lost to her as the song picked up, the chorus swelling in her ears, pushing her forward. She walked past them without a second glance, part of the city’s daily rhythm - unnoticed, and anonymous, moving with purpose.

Gotham’s streets were always in motion, people hurrying to work, cars honking, the distant wail of a siren cutting through the murmur of morning chatter. Elena had long since stopped flinching at the noise. It was like the hum of a worn-out machine, an engine that had been running for so long it didn’t know how to stop. There was something oddly comforting in it. It felt like home – the chaos and the stillness all tangled together in a way only Gotham could pull off.

She rounded the corner, heading toward Robinson Park, her footsteps crunching through the frost-covered grass. The park was empty this early, the trees bare and stark against the lightening sky. A few stray pigeons pecked at the ground, their wings flapping lazily as they took flight. The air tasted of metal and rain, the kind of morning that made you feel both invigorated and resigned.

The city's character shifted beneath Elena’s feet, as she walked. Cracked sidewalks littered with cigarette butts and empty cans slowly gave way to cleaner streets, the grime of the lower city retreating as she neared the Upper East Side. The air seemed fresher here, a little lighter, though still tinged with the ever-present hum of Gotham. The tall buildings around her grew more polished, their surfaces gleaming faintly in the morning light, and the streets seemed to widen, offering a little more space between the sidewalk and the looming facades of high-end shops and townhouses.

Ahead, Gotham Academy rose from the polished landscape like a quiet, imposing giant. Its stone walls, dark and weathered, stood in stark contrast to the surrounding sleek glass and steel. Ivy clung to the building, curling up like veins of green against the grey bricks, while narrow windows peeked out from beneath gothic arches.

Elena’s footsteps slowed as she approached the gates of the academy, fishing in her bag for her ID card. She flashes it against the reader, waiting for the familiar beep letting her know the gate is unlocked and pushing the gate open when it does.

The keys to the school’s newspaper room jingled in her fingers as she unlocked the door. The small, cluttered room was where all the magic of the Gotham Academy Gazette happened - the brainstorming, the writing, the late-night edits, and the last-minute panic before the print deadlines. It was the heartbeat of the school’s journalistic voice, and, as editor-in-chief, Elena was at the center of it all.

She walked into the school’s newspaper room, the familiar scent of ink and paper filling her senses, grounding her in this small sanctuary she had claimed as her own. The hum of quiet conversations, the faint tapping of keyboards, and the rustling of papers made the room feel alive - much more so than the silence of the hallways or the rigid structure of the classrooms. Here, students could express themselves, even if only in words.

The small room was cluttered, but it was still her comfortable sanctuary. Desks scattered at odd angles, stacks of half-finished articles and newspapers piled haphazardly on counters and chairs. Posters from old school events covered the walls, a strange blend of memories from previous years. In the corner, an old coffee machine whistled softly as it brewed another pot. Elena made her way to the back, where a small desk by the window had become her station, thankful that no one else is in here yet so she can sit down and focus with zero distractions.

She set her backpack down, slinging her black coat over the spinney chair, exhaling softly as she fires up the sleek grey laptop in front of her, courtesy of her scholarship fund. Scanning her planner, she sees that she still has two articles left to review for this week's paper - one covering the student council elections, and the other a witty opinion piece on the school’s lunch.

As Elena began scanning the first article - “Gotham Academy’s Cafeteria: A Crime Against Taste?” - the shrill ringing of the school bell sounded, signifying the start of first period. Outside, she could hear the hustle and bustle of students walking to their lessons, hastily taking their books out of their lockers, but she remained focused on the article in front of her. Having a free period first thing on a Monday morning was both a blessing and a curse - while it meant that she could check things off her to-do list as soon as possible, it also meant she had lessons later in the afternoon whilst other students got to go home a little earlier.

Elena had just started marking up the lunch article with red slashes and circles when a sharp, insistent knock rattled the glass-paneled door to the newsroom. She jumped slightly, startled, her pen skidding across the page and leaving an unfortunate red streak over the word “inedible.”

Elena barely had time to process the sound of knuckles against glass before Damian Wayne’s voice, low and commanding, cut through the newsroom's quiet. “Gold, I need a moment.”

The door wasn’t even fully open before Damian stepped inside, his movements deliberate, every inch of him as composed as ever. The crisp lines of his black blazer highlighted his athletic build, the tailored fabric sculpting to his shoulders and tapering down to a narrow waist. The tie at his neck was knotted precisely, a sharp contrast to the faintly rebellious way a single strand of his jet-black hair fell loose over his forehead, betraying the natural curl pattern of his hair. The rest was slicked back meticulously, a glossy darkness that caught the light and framed his angular, olive toned face.

“Good morning to you too,” she said, brushing off her initial surprise as she closed the door behind him. She crossed her arms, leaning against the desk. “What’s the urgency?”

“You’re the chief editor of the Gazette,” Damian began, his tone calm but unyielding, as if stating an undeniable fact. He set his leather bag on the nearest desk and began to pull out a sleek black folder. “That means you write about things that matter. Issues that deserve attention. I have one for you.”

Elena arched a brow, watching as he placed the folder on the desk and slid it toward her. The way he moved was careful, deliberate, almost like he was handling evidence in a case.

“Okay,” she said cautiously, flipping the folder open. Her eyes widened at the first photograph—a small coop with broken wire hanging loose, a faint smudge of feathers on the ground. She flipped to another, showing a muddy patch with what looked like the faint outline of hoofprints, the ground trampled and wet. Page after page revealed meticulous observations, and hand-written notes in Damian’s sharp, almost surgical penmanship.

“It’s the mini-farm,” Damian explained what Elena had already deduced, his voice steady but imbued with an edge of restrained passion. “The one set up for the elementary and middle school. The conditions are unacceptable. The animals are suffering due to neglect and incompetence.”

Elena’s brown eyes looked up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. “Go on.”

“The enclosures are substandard,” Damian continued, his expression unchanging but his words precise, cutting like glass. “The chicken coop is barely secured—any predator could get in. The rabbits are housed in wire cages that don’t protect them from wind or cold. The ducks’ pond is stagnant, riddled with algae. And the ponies...” He paused for a moment, not out of hesitation, but to let the weight of his words settle. “They’re underweight. Standing in mud, with no dry ground and inadequate shelter.”

His tone never wavered, but it carried a quiet intensity that made Elena sit up straighter. “How long has it been like this?”

“Since the beginning,” Damian replied. “I’ve been watching since they broke ground. At first, I thought they might address the issues as they went. But they haven’t. If anything, it’s getting worse.”

Elena closed the folder, her mind buzzing as she processed what he was saying. “Have you tried raising the issue with anyone? The headmaster?”

Damian’s jaw tightened at her question, the faintest tick of annoyance betraying his otherwise stoic demeanour. His hands, resting loosely at his sides, curled slightly into fists against his black slacks before relaxing again, the only outward sign of irritation.

“I’ve spoken to the headmaster,” he replied evenly, his tone clipped. “Twice. Each time, I was assured the matter would be addressed. Yet, here we are.”

Elena raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “So, nothing’s been done? Seems strange, considering who you are. You’d think they’d jump to fix things if Damian Wayne showed up in their office.”

Damian’s expression darkened, his green eyes narrowing. “Apparently, my name carries less weight when it comes to what they consider a ‘minor matter.’” The way he said the words - mocking and cold - made it clear how much he despised the dismissal.

“Well,” Elena said, crossing her arms, “if money’s the issue, that’s one thing you’re not short on, right? Why not just write a check and solve the problem?”

The air in the room seemed to shift. Damian’s gaze sharpened, his posture straightening as if her words had struck a nerve. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice low and cutting.

Elena hesitated, taken aback by the intensity in his tone. “I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? A new coop, better fencing, proper shelter - you could cover all of that without breaking a sweat.”

Damian stepped closer, his movements measured and deliberate, like a predator closing in. He rested his hands on the edge of her desk, leaning just enough to bring their eyes level. The faint scent of woody oud clung to him, invading the air around them.

“Elena,” he began, his voice quiet but with an edge that sliced through the air, “if I throw money at this problem, it gets fixed for a week. Maybe two. Then what? The same people who neglected it in the first place let it fall apart again. Because they don’t care. Because no one is holding them accountable.”

She held his gaze, her breath caught somewhere between defiance and understanding. “So, what? You want me to shame them into doing their jobs?”

“If that’s what it takes, yes,” Damian answered without hesitation. “But this isn’t just about shaming them. It’s about making people realise that the treatment of these animals is barbaric. They read your articles, and they care about what you have to say - remember that article you wrote about Gotham Academy’s lack of charity events? It gained so much traction that the PTA have started to organise fundraising events.”

She studied him for a moment, weighing the gravity of what he was asking. Damian wasn’t someone who spoke lightly about anything, let alone something like this.

“Are you really going to stand for animal cruelty?”

“Alright,” she said finally, nodding. “I’ll do it. But I’ll need more than what’s in this folder. Interviews, first hand observations—something to back it all up, and I want better pictures.”

“Then we investigate,” Damian said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “After school. I’ll take you to the mini-farm. You’ll see for yourself.”

His calm confidence left no room for argument, and Elena found herself nodding again before she even realized it. “Fine. After school.”

“Good.” Damian straightened, the flicker of intensity in his eyes softening just enough to reveal a hint of satisfaction. “I’ll meet you by the east gate at four.”

#damian wayne x oc #damian wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x original female character #journalist!OFC #multi chap fic #ao3 #gotham academy

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bitchinbarzal · 2 months ago

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I need a part 2 of Silent Treatment. I need to see Matt struggling to make breakfast and get the kiddos ready for the day.

Matthew Knies had faced elite defensemen, blocked shots from impossible angles, and survived some of the toughest road trips in the NHL. But nothing, not a single thing on this planet, had prepared him for the absolute chaos of a solo morning with three kids.

Delilah, true to her word, had taken the morning off. And by off, she meant staying in bed, enjoying her coffee in peace, and watching her husband struggle from the comfort of their room.

Dallas was asking far too many questions before 7 AM.

Miro was trying to get dressed but somehow ended up wearing his sister’s leggings instead of his own sweatpants.

And Hadley. Oh, Hadley had decided today was the day to throw a full-scale rebellion against breakfast.

“NOOOOO!” Hadley wailed, flailing her little arms when Matthew tried to set her in her high chair.

Matthew groaned. “Hadley, c’mon, sweetheart, you love waffles.”

“NO WAFFLES.”

“You literally ate them yesterday.”

“NOOOOO!”

“Okay, fine, what do you want?”

“Cereal.”

Matthew exhaled in relief. That was easy enough. He grabbed a bowl, poured some Cheerios in, and placed it in front of her.

Hadley took one look at it and screamed. “NO!”

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hadley, what—”

“PINK! PINK!”

Matthew glanced at the pantry, spotting the dreaded pink box—the sugary, no-nutritional-value, makes-Hadley-bounce-off-the-walls kind of cereal Delilah had hidden behind the oatmeal.

He was so screwed.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, swapping out the bowls. “Here.”

Hadley immediately stopped crying, happily shoving handfuls of colorful cereal into her mouth.

Matthew sighed in exhaustion, only to turn and see that Miro was still half-dressed, sitting on the floor in his sister’s leggings.

“Oh my God, bud, what happened to your pants?”

“I dunno,” Miro shrugged.

Matthew sighed, quickly swapping out the leggings for the right sweatpants. “You’re killing me, kid.”

And then there was Dallas.

His independent, ever-curious six-year-old stood at the counter, staring at him expectantly.

“Dad.”

“What?”

“You said you were making breakfast for Mommy, too.”

Oh. Right.

Matthew groaned, glancing at the stove. He had exactly zero energy left, but he had promised Delilah breakfast. And he was not about to give her another reason to clown him after last night.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, cracking eggs into a pan while Miro started singing Jingle Bells for no reason, Hadley spilled half her cereal on the table, and Dallas continued to watch him like she was his personal supervisor.

She was.

By the time he finally had breakfast plated—a very sad-looking omelet, some slightly burnt toast, and a cup of lukewarm coffee—he was already exhausted.

He took a deep breath and walked upstairs, pushing open their bedroom door to see Delilah stretched out in bed, scrolling through her phone. She raised a brow when she saw him standing there with the plate.

“Wow,” she smirked. “You survived.”

“Barely.”

He handed her the plate, and she examined it with a smirk. “So, this is your attempt at breakfast in bed?”

Matthew flopped onto the bed beside her, groaning dramatically. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Delilah took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before nodding. “You know, not terrible.”

He glared at her. “That was way too much hesitation.”

She laughed, setting the plate on her nightstand before shifting closer to him. “Now you know what my mornings are like.”

Matthew sighed, draping an arm around her waist. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I’m a businesswoman and a mother. I multitask better than you”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, you win.”

“I always win.” She smirked, poking his cheek. “But I do appreciate the effort.”

Matthew sighed, already dreading the rest of the day. “Babe, I think we need a nanny.”

Delilah just laughed. “Told you so.”

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nihonnojihifukainomajonoseiiki · 6 months ago

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I made strawberries and cream oatmeal for a self-love spell.

This oatmeal not only nourishes your body but also supports your journey of self-love and acceptance, so it's a healthy and amazing dish that you can have for breakfast.

What you'll need to make strawberries and cream oatmeal for a self-love spell

1 cup rolled oats – Oats represent grounding and nourishment, helping you connect to your self-worth.

1 cup milk – Milk symbolizes nurturing and compassion, bringing softness to the spell.

1/2 cup water – Water is cleansing and promotes emotional healing.

1/2 cup fresh strawberries, sliced – Strawberries represent love and beauty, enhancing self-love energy.

2 tbsp. coconut cream – Cream symbolizes indulgence and luxury, reminding you to treat yourself kindly.

1 tsp vanilla extract – Vanilla represents sweetness and emotional balance.

1 tbsp. honey – Honey represents harmony and the sweetness of life, making it easier to attract positive feelings.

A pinch of cinnamon – Cinnamon adds warmth, protection, and helps spark inner confidence.

Instructions

In a medium saucepan, bring the water and milk to a boil. Stir in the oats and reduce the heat to a simmer.

While the oatmeal is cooking, stir it slowly and focus on your self-love intentions. Visualize your heart filling with warmth and compassion, and imagine radiating confidence and joy.

Stir in the sliced strawberries, thinking of love and self-worth blossoming in your life. Let them soften in the oatmeal, releasing their sweetness.

As you add the coconut cream and vanilla extract, say aloud (or in your mind) words of self-affirmation like: "I am deserving of love and care. I honor my own beauty and worth."

Add the honey, letting the sweetness remind you of the joy you bring to yourself. Feel the sweetness spread through the dish and your spirit.

Sprinkle some cinnamon on top for warmth, protection, and confidence.

Before you eat, say a little chant like: "By berries bright and sweet as cream, I honor myself in each waking dream. With every bite, as love's warmth grows near, I fill my heart and release my fear."

Enjoy the oatmeal in a peaceful space, and focus on nurturing your body and spirit with each bite. Take deep breaths, and let the spell’s energy settle within you.

#strawberries and cream oatmeal #love magic #kitchen witchcraft #white magic #food photography #my recipe #witchcraft #witch community #witchblr #witches of Tumblr

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unimo · 2 months ago

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70 questions..Could you answer all of them actually? If you have time

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

it’s complicated with both of my parents but i love them.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

it was my mom lol.

03: Do you regret anything?

there’s lots that i regret, mainly the relationships i’ve been in and opportunities i missed out on because of circumstances out of my control.

04: Are you insecure?

yes, about quite a few things.

05: What is your relationship status?

i’m single.

06: How do you want to die?

not sure if this is basic but probably in my sleep, preferably after a pretty nice day spent and with a clear head. everyone i love knows how much they mean to me and no unsettled disputes happening between us.

07: What did you last eat?

oatmeal.

08: Played any sports?

i played basketball in elementary school and was a cheerleader too in elementary school if that counts lol i was horrible at it tbh i feel bad for those poor coaches.

09: Do you bite your nails?

no, i usually fidget by twirling my hair or with the hems of my shirts or purse handle.

10: When was your last physical fight?

not quite sure? maybe with my older sister?

11: Do you like someone?

just a short list of fictional monstrosities.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

i don’t think i have lol i’m too weak for that.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

i don’t think so? just resent people.

14: Do you miss someone?

i miss a few old friends and people i worked with.

15: Have any pets?

i do, my family has several pugs.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

a bit tired but overall okish.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

maybe? i can’t remember.

18: Are you scared of spiders?

i wanna say no but i know deep down that’s a lie :’) i don’t mind daddy long legs though.

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

maybe for a few days to when i was a kid, i just want to experience unadulterated whimsy joy for a bit.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

uhm… probably my bedroom? it’s been awhile lol i have no idea.

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

to just be chill and maybe draw and listen to some music.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

i don’t think so? probably 1 or 2 to adopt but i can’t really imagine myself being pregnant or having children right now.

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

just the standard ears pierced, i used to have my left nostril pierced but it healed the wrong way so i had to take it out :(

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

i was pretty good at biology and english i think? i loved english, history, and science.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

i do but it’s more or so the memory of them. the people i used to love are unrecognizable now to me and we’ve lost touch. i’ve lost quite a bit of family and friends due to change and circumstance and it feels bittersweet.

26: What are you craving right now?

i’m not really sure lol.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

i think so? but it was deserved.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

i’m not sure, i hope not.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

yeah.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

my mental health and lack of motivation or energy.

31: Does somebody love you?

besides family and friends i’m not sure.

32: What is your favourite color?

i love periwinkle and mauve :) the bi flag is literally just my favorite colors. 🩷💜💙

33: Do you have trust issues?

i do :’) sometimes my intrusive thoughts make me feel paranoid about dumb things and also i’ve been lied to in the past by others i’ve cared about.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

i had a dream about a pizza party but i never got to eat a slice :’) i then had a dream i was in the woods with several deer going by me in the tree line during my walk which was kinda cool.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

my mom.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

i wanna say no but i know that i do… it gets hard not to for the ones i care about.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

this one’s a bit tricky uhm… probably forgive? i don’t think you can ever forget something someone’s done to you depending on the severity of what it was, but forgiving happens within that time. it’s something i’m still struggling to do and i don’t think i can ever forgive the things that have happened to me but i can look at it in a more enlightened sense. what happened has happened but i try not let it control how i move forward i guess.

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

i hope it could be, but who knows.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

i think 15?

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

uh… i don’t think so?

51: Favourite food?

chinese takeout and cake.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

i’d like to think so but who really knows.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

scrolled through my phone lol.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

maybe depending on the context? like how long you’ve been together, if your relationship is unfair, things like that can play big factors but overall i’d say no?

55: Are you mean?

i hope not :’) i might look like it or sound like it but i’m usually pretty nice i’d believe.

56: How many people have you fist fought?

none lol.

57: Do you believe in true love?

i do, i think of those old cute couple videos and stuff and get all sappy.

58: Favourite weather?

early springtime with overcast, it feels so refreshing but not too hot or cold.

59: Do you like the snow?

yeah, i think it’s really pretty.

60: Do you wanna get married?

i do eventually.

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

i’m not sure, the thought of it kind of makes me feel weird.

62: What makes you happy?

currently drawing and listening to music, i love asking and answering strange hypothetical questions too ironically and just being reminded that the little things are really what makes life great.

63: Would you change your name?

i’m not sure, i’m so used to my name but i think other names sound much nicer than mine.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

very hard, i’d prefer not to at all.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

i’d probably politely let them down lol.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

i’d like to think so.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

i don’t think he’d want me to say sorry.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

i think it was my sister? or my niece?