#Bloom writing challenge

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

Sunscreen

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Javier Gutierrez x F!reader | WC : 1.4k | Proof read : kind of they said no plot lol | Masterlist | Notifications

Summary: PWP well maybe a very slight plot...ahem...a pool...

Warnings: SMUT, pool sex

A/n: I'm dyslexic, so some Spanish. My bilingual certificate is coming in clutch right now. Lol. Um… Mi Vida - My life and Mi amor - My love.

This is a part of @vivian-pascal's Bloom Writing Challenge. I'm so happy you've hit this amazing milestone. I love your work, and I highly encourage anyone who likes this story to check her out. Kisses to our sinful and joyful vi.

You pulled yourself out of the water, droplets cascading down your body, making your barely-there bikini cling to your skin in a way that left little to the imagination. The sun's rays warmed you as you walked over to Javi, who was engrossed in his phone. Without a word, you grabbed a bottle of sunscreen and approached him.

"Help me out?" you asked, your voice laced with a teasing edge.

Javi lowered his sunglasses, his dark eyes raking over your wet form. "Yes, mi amor, of course," he replied, his voice thick with desire.

You blushed under his intense gaze but stood your ground, shaking your head slightly. "Oh... I meant help me here." You squirted a generous amount of sunscreen onto your chest, then took his hand and placed it on the slick surface. Your lips curved into a seductive smile as you bit your lip, watching his reaction.

His eyes darkened, a flush creeping up his neck as he took in your bold move. His grip tightened on your arms, and with a swift motion, he pulled you down onto the sun chair beside him. His hands, now slick with sunscreen, began to move over your chest, spreading the lotion with slow, deliberate strokes.

"Mi amor," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "your skin... under the suit is so hot."

His hands slid under the straps of your bikini top, lifting them off your shoulders with practiced ease. "We wouldn't want any tan lines, now would we?" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You shivered as the straps fell away, his fingers deftly moving to the knot in the center of your chest. With a smirk, he untied it, letting the flimsy material fall away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Here," he said, his voice rough with arousal, "let me help you."

His hands moved over your bare skin, spreading the sunscreen with a tantalizing mix of tenderness and urgency. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as he explored every inch of your exposed chest, his eyes never leaving yours.

Javi's hands roamed lower, fingers brushing over your stomach, tracing the lines of your ribs. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, a knot of desire tightening in your core. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, lips grazing your collarbone.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

He shifted, positioning himself so that you were lying back on the sun chair, his body hovering over yours. The sensation of his skin against yours was intoxicating, every touch igniting a fire within you. His hands continued their exploration, slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottom, teasing the sensitive skin near your hips.

Your heart pounded as his fingers traced the edge of the fabric, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the heat of his touch, the desire in his gaze, and the sound of your own breath, shallow and quick.

"Javi," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He paused, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Yes, mi amor?"

"Don't stop," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could think.

You grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a feverish kiss, feeling the heat of his mouth against yours, before grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back onto the chair. He giggled, "Careful, you'll break the chair."

You rolled your eyes and stood up, unafraid of your nakedness as you slipped off your bikini bottoms. "Like what you see?" you teased, moving toward him with a seductive sway.

Javi's eyes widened, taking in every inch of your bare form. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He sat on the edge of the chair, his hands on his head, eyes devouring you. Just as you thought he might pull you in, he surprised you by scooping you up effortlessly.

"Javi!?" you exclaimed, shocked as he carried you toward the edge of the pool.

"I've always wanted to fuck you in the pool," he grinned, his eyes dark with anticipation, before dropping you into the water.

Part of you wanted to strangle him, but the other part was thrilled by his boldness. You rose from the shallow water, your skin glistening in the sunlight. As soon as you did, he jumped in, the splash cool against your heated skin. You closed your eyes and opened them to see he'd taken off his swimsuit. His hands were on your hips, his breath hot on your neck.

"Ever been skinny dipping?" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

You turned to face him, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his erection prod at your thigh. He wore a snarky grin before pushing you against the edge of the pool, pulling you in for a deep, hungry kiss. You gasped into the kiss, your hands tugging and pulling at his hair.

"I swear to God if you don't fuck me..." you breathed desperately, needing his touch.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. "With pleasure, my love," he replied, sliding his dick up and down your clit, the slickness building up until he finally entered you. You gasped, the lack of preparation making the stretch all the more intense given Javi's size. He kissed your neck, murmuring, "I'm sorry," as he started to thrust into you, the initial pain quickly giving way to pleasure.

Your hand gripped his shoulder, the water making both of you feel weightless. You used the buoyancy to help you bounce on his cock while he thrust into you, making you moan over and over. The angle hit that one spot where you needed him most.

"Javi..." you begged, your voice a needy whimper.

"Yes, mi vida..." he replied, almost in a trance.

You stopped bouncing, trying to get his attention. He looked worried for a second but didn't pull out; he always had trouble doing so, as if he would die in your pussy if he could. "From the back?" you suggested, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

"Of course," he grinned, flipping you over with more strength than most would think. After you stabilized yourself, he quickly shoved his dick back into you.

You let out a gasp as he thrust deeper into you from behind, the water splashing softly around you both. The new angle only intensified the pleasure coursing through you. You moaned, feeling your orgasm building rapidly.

"Faster, Javi," you urged, your voice hoarse with intense desire.

"Anything for you," he responded, thrusting harder and faster with every passing moment. The rhythmic motions created waves in the pool, tiny ripples spreading outward as you moved together.

"Javi, I'm close," you whispered urgently into his ear, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"I can feel it," he nuzzled your ear gently, increasing the pace of his thrusts, each one sending waves of pleasure through you.

Your orgasm grew closer and stronger, and soon your entire body tensed in anticipation. The pleasure became almost too intense to bear, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"JAVI!" you cried out, your body trembling as waves of euphoria washed over you, your climax shattering you into a million pieces. Your scream echoed across the otherwise tranquil pool, marking the end of your intense release.

As your breathing returned to normal, Javi slowed his thrusts, allowing both of you to revel in the afterglow. The water around you felt cool and refreshing, contrasting with the heat you still felt from your recent climax.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction.

You kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. "You're incredible," you whispered, your heart still racing.

He chuckled softly, his hands gently caressing your back. "All for you, mi amour."

You lay there together, the sun warming your skin, the cool water lapping at your feet. The world around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water and your own breathing.

Javi pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

In that moment, everything felt perfect. The world could have ended around you, and you wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was the man beside you, the love you shared, and the incredible connection that bound you together.

[vivian-pascal]

hello friends!! as you all know I've hit 500 followers!! this is a huge milestone for me and I am over the moon! I started writing only a few months back and here we are with 500! I love you all so much and I wanted to do something quite special! I've never done one of these before so bare with me if its *ahem* a little crazy! but hey, I do love crazy so!

i wanted to do a writing challenge. it's been on my mind for quite some time but I haven't had the time too but now I do! as you all know, I will be going on a trip next week with a few friends so this writing challenge will be extended! so with that, here are the rules:

There will be 24 open slots for you to choose from.

There's no word count that you must follow but it is advised that it at least be over 350-450. But that is only a consideration! You write what your heart desires and how much you intend to write is completely up to you.

Send in an ask with either of these emojis: 🌸🌹🌺🌷 as well as a number between 1-24 to depict your character and topic! If your number is already taken i will shoot you a message and let you know as well as changing your number and finding something suitable for you!

If you are unable to write a fic or anything related to writing, that's fine too! You can create a mood board or some artwork as well.

All requests take place through today-June 28. Please post your work on July 8th. If you are unable to do so just shoot me a message to let me know!

Please tag me in all your work so I see them and tag Bloom writing challenge too!

have fun with this and if there is anything that is unclear or you have a question, just shoot me a message and ill be happy to help!! can't wait to see what you all write!

tagging some moots 💗

@amyispxnk @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @kotourasan123 @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @littlevenicebitch69

@sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts @itsokbbygrl @mountainsandmayhem @morallyinept @rav3n-pascal22

@magpiepills

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Clematis - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Clematis (Clematis) - Meaning: Ingenuity, cleverness

Summary: Anthony's lover comes up with a way to see him after the ball.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 1504

Warnings: SMUT, probably poorly written cunnilingus (F receiving), reader has female anatomy, Regency era gender politics, Anthony loves giving head

Day 15 and not sure how I feel about this one. Getting it in under the wire, it's almost midnight where I'm at. I just want a man to come in through my window and eat my 😼 okay???

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

If this was how Anthony Bridgerton kissed, you couldn’t imagine how else he could make you feel. His lips were firm against yours, but gentle, coaxing, his large hands tracing down your neck and along the line of your decollete which made your breath hitch. 

Part of the intoxication was the danger of the situation — you were the daughter of an Earl, a respectable lady of the Ton, and if you were discovered with Anthony Bridgerton’s hands and lips all over you, you would be ruined. 

You broke the kiss, needing an influx of air or you would surely faint. Anthony rested his forehead against yours. 

“I need you,” you breathed out, “Anthony, I need you.” 

He ran a delicate finger down your chest, “Not here, dearest.” 

“Then where? When?” You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as you pressed your pliant body against his firm one. 

He sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “If only I could whisk you away from here without drawing suspicion.” 

An idea came to mind — it was risky, but if he agreed you could continue feeling like you were on fire, and oh, how you wanted to burn. 

“Come to my home, tonight,” you whispered, gasping a little as his lips pressed against your neck, licking over your jeweled necklace. “There’s a trellis just under my window, you can climb right up.” 

“You wish for me to defile you in your own bedroom?” Anthony growled against your neck, “Naughty girl.” 

He agreed to the plan nonetheless, and you straightened yourself before heading back to your parents, claiming a headache and asking for the carriage. 

“But dear, you haven’t danced with Lord Hollingsworth yet!” your Mama declared, having selected the oh-so-boring yet oh-so-available man as your best hope for marriage at the beginning of the season. 

“Now, now Cecelia,” your Papa chimed in, “if the girl is unwell we shan’t force her to dance. I’ll call the carriage, dears, you two gather your things and say your goodbyes.” He nodded at you and ducked away, eager to get home as usual. 

From across the ballroom, you caught Anthony’s eye and nodded slightly. He winked, sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. He was to give you ninety minutes to make sure your parents were asleep, then scale your trellis like a hero in a romantic novel. 

Immediately upon your return home, you excused yourself upstairs. Your maid helped you undress, but you dismissed her quickly, claiming you could handle taking the pins out of your hair on your own. Over the next hour, you listened as your father retired to his study and your mother to her bedroom. 

Once you were sure your parents were in for the night, you placed a candle in your window — his signal that the coast was clear. Unable to remain still, you started pacing your room. Would he show up or leave you twisting in the wind like this? 

Only a few minutes of pacing later a knock came from your window. You dashed over, unlatching it and moving the candle for Anthony to pull himself up. He did so athletically, like letting a tiger into your bedroom. When he was inside, you closed the window and he was on you in a heartbeat, hot kisses along the back of your neck while his hands slid around your waist. 

Your hand came up to grip the back of his head, your fingers lacing through his silken hair. You pressed back against him, turning your head to meet his lips with your own. He tasted like whiskey and sin. He spun you around in his grasp and tugged you close to him by your hips. 

You gasped as you felt his cock pressing into your lower tummy — he was large. For a moment you hesitated, wondering how something so large would fit inside you, but Anthony’s insistent grip on your hips turned into him grabbing handfuls of your nightgown and pulling the cool silk up, up, up. 

“You came,” you gasped breathlessly.

“You didn’t think I would? Tsk, tsk,” he joked, clicking his tongue at you. “My dear, now that I’ve had a taste, I cannot get enough.” 

He emphasized his point by kissing your lips once again, licking his tongue into your mouth. You responded with a soft moan, which only seemed to spur him on. 

Before you knew what was happening, Anthony had tossed you back onto your bed and was  crawling over you, bringing the hem of your nightgown with him. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm, large fingers tracing trails of fire up your legs, teasing your wetness through your undergarments. 

“May I taste you,” he asked, and you moaned your response which prompted him to stop his fingers only an inch from where you needed him most. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and whined. He rose to meet your lips with his. “I need you to remain quiet, otherwise I will stop. And we don’t want that, sweet one, do we?” 

Anything. Anything he wanted as long as he kept touching you. When he saw you nod, he hooked a finger beneath your gusset and ripped it, baring your wetness to him. With eyes dark as obsidian in the light of the single candle burning, he gazed up at you with such heat as you had never known. 

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, then licked a long stripe into you, sending a lightning bolt up your spine. His lips curled around your clit and you shuddered. A moan threatened to slip past your lips but you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop it. The noise was caught in your throat, fluttering like a canary in a cage. 

Anthony hummed a, “good girl,” against you, making you clench around nothing. 

You moved your hands, making an effort to keep your tone low, “More, please!”

You felt him smirk against you before he redoubled his efforts, this time breaching your entrance with a thick finger. Moaning at the intrusion, Anthony took this as an invitation to add another finger, stretching you deliciously. 

You were close, so close, his fingers pumping and hitting a spot within you that you couldn’t reach, his tongue flicking against your clit. Each movement made the knot in your lower tummy tighten, threatening to snap at any moment. 

“Anthony, please,” you whined, unable to control your volume.

He slowed his fingers and removed his mouth from you. “Quiet,” he hissed, “Or do you wish for your parents to find me here?” 

Unconsciously, you clenched around his fingers. The danger of being caught added something you couldn’t name to the situation. Anthony smiled. “Mmm, does my sweet want to get caught?” He teased, and you clenched again, “I think she does. Such a wanton little strumpet, tempting me into a dark corner to kiss me, then inviting me to her bedchambers in the middle of the night, and squeezing my fingers at the thought of someone coming in…”

His words, said in his tantalizing baritone, were pushing you closer and closer to the edge. If only he would put his mouth to better use and—

As if reading your mind, his lips landed back on your clit and his fingers picked up their pace once more, again finding the spot within you that made you see stars with every pass. 

You clamped your hands over your mouth again and moaned his name, which only spurred him on. He drove into you, his tongue and lips reciting an ode against you, dedicating it to you and your pleasure. Having the entire focus of this season’s most eligible bachelor was intoxicating to say the least — and inevitably what pushed you straight into your climax. 

You writhed against him, held in place by his strong forearm as he worked you through your orgasm, the aftershocks lasting much longer than they normally did. Anthony remained between your legs and cleaned up every drop of your release before withdrawing. 

The clock in the hall chimed thrice. Anthony joined you when you reached for him, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You let your hand drift to the front of his trousers, palming his length until he guided your wrist away. 

“As much as I wish for it, I have an early appointment and must be on my way.” 

You pouted up at him, but he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead before slipping off the end of your bed with a promise to see you again soon. 

You watched as he made his way back down the trellis. When he got to the bottom, he blew you a kiss before disappearing into the dark Mayfair night.

The early appointment Anthony had, you would find out later, was to meet with your father. He asked for your hand that afternoon. And, knowing what awaited you in your marital bed, you happily said yes.

[inexplicifics]

Ambrozy is not what you might call thrilled to have five witchers walk into his quiet little tavern.

[fizzytoo]

Karlee confides in Ama about the "Andrew" situation.

5th panel: [karlee]: "I feel a little guilty. All this time, I've never thought about what they could be like. I didn't need to. I have you, and Dad, and Papa. You guys are all I could ever want. I don't know anything about Andrew. What if they hate me?"

6th panel: [amaya: "I think that's normal. To not want to know. And it's perfectly okay to decide you want to get to know them now. They can't possibly hate you, Karls. They'd be a fool to not recognize that big heart of yours."

7th panel: [amaya]: "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you."

8th panel: [moodlet] Happy +1. "I love you.": From having familial support. Karlee can't have asked for a better sibling. She can only hope this new mystery sibling will love her all the same.

[v7lgar]

challengers au but jarty is patrick and art and regulus is tashi and they end up a throuple, how bout that?

[vo-bday-bash]

Birthday Bash Prompts

And here they are: Your sixty-six prompts. They're sorted into different categories and I hope there's something in here for everyone. Feel free to pick, choose, mix&match, combine and of course: write!

The text-only prompt list is here.

[mordremrose]

I’m just gonna write a little thing! A little thought for Bloom, nothing too intense, just so I don’t forget it!

1000 words later? Whoops

Writing below the cut, major spoilers for the end of Heart of Thorns and implied End of Dragons spoilers but nothing explicit from EoD :]

Bloom

“Kill me, Commander.” Trahearne could hear his own voice tremble, as horror overtook his dear friend’s face. Around them all, their friends— Rytlock, Caithe, Canach, Marjory, Braham— were exhausted. Worn thin by the fight against the jungle dragon, both physical and within the Dream.

“What? No! Mordremoth is dead. We destroyed its mind from the inside.” The commander protested, their fingers curled around the hilt of Caladbolg.

“But I still hear its voice.” Trahearne looked down at his hands, twisted and blighted as they were. His body was not his— he was corrupted. It was only cruel fate that he had kept his mind this long. Or perhaps something more sinister.

“Mordremoth is alive. One last hateful vestige… a terrible seed, planted deep in my mind.”

Trahearne’s hands curled into fist, as he took a deep steadying breath.

“You must kill me, Commander, before that seed grows. Before… before Mordremoth reclaims what it has lost.”

He reached out now, hands on his friend’s shoulders. The tears streaming down their face broke his heart. He did not want this. He didn’t want to hurt them, to see them suffer so.

Trahearne wished there was another way.

“What is left of me can’t survive on its own, my friend.” He croaked, and felt the Commander tremble beneath his hands. Were they always so small?

“Strike now or—“

Against his will, a rage rose up. A sick bile that boiled in his stomach and burned through his chest as his mind lurched.

Through his mouth, Mordremoth spoke.

“I am the future! I am this world! You cannot destroy me!” The dragon roared, hands tightening around the commander.

“Run while you can!” It took everything he had left to force his fingers to uncurl, to release the commander even as the dragon wanted to tear them to shreds to be remade anew.

Caladbolg flashed in the corner of his eye.

“No!” The commander yelled. Strike true my friend! Trahearne wanted to yell. But he couldn’t, and his mind went dark.

There was no great explosion. There was no dying scream.

If you asked those present what happened, none of them gave any concrete answer.

Canach hesitated to answer, but would confirm that Mordremoth was no longer hounding his mind, or any of the sylvari.

All Rytlock would say was that the confrontation wasn’t pretty.

Caithe mourned Trahearne, in her quiet and melancholic manner, and asked not to push the matter further.

Braham would scowl, shake his head, and shove his way past, unwilling or perhaps unable to describe that final blow.

Marjory Delaqua, normally so elegant and clever with her words, who could see the twists of a plot before anyone else— when she was asked, she could only shake her head and reply ‘I don’t know’.

The Commander didn’t answer at all, because no one was able to find them to ask.

Eventually, researchers at the newly established lab of Rata Novus confirmed what the entire world held its breath to hear.

Mordremoth was dead. He had to be, to explain the slow steady trickle of magic escaping the jungle, supposedly as the dragon… decayed wasn’t the right word, but it conveyed the idea well enough. It was a slow death, they said, not quite the explosive reaction from Zhaitan, who had gorged itself on magic before its death, but a gradual decay. It changed things, about magic, about how the people of Tyria and the soon to be established Dragon’s Watch understood the flow of magic around and through the Elder Dragons. But it was dead.

It had to be.

He woke up. His body ached, as it always did, as he woke. A consequence of being too bigsmall. He stirred slowly, limbs stretching out and tail dragging behind. He had buried himself beneath massive vines this time, the weight of them both familiar and restricting. These conflicting sensations, the constant disagreement with himself… it was the only thing he could rely on. Even his name escaped his memory, although he could hear whispers of it on the edges of his mind.

Traherdremaneth.

It didn’t matter, really.

He moved slowly, not truly wanting to rise, but knowing he must.

He was something in between, and there was no stillness for him. No place of his own.

His one companion, if you could call it that, would be upon him soon. A dogged purserer, both a thorn in his side and a trusted ally, trailed behind him. For a time he thought they left him— and the feelings that had wrought left him stationary in a deep cave for nearly a week before they had reappeared.

He didn’t want them close, he knew that much, but they were one of the few things he had, a consistency. He couldn’t see them well, not with the distance between them, but he could always make out the broken blade at their hip. The one that made the scar across his chest ache.

He wondered what would happen if he let them get closer. Would they strike? Would they know him?

They were his enemyfriend. What would they make of him? Caution kept him at a distance from them.

The longer he was awake, the more memories he could half-remember.

The Orrian landscape stretches out before him and it reeks of his sibling, twisting beneath the dirt. The undead don’t notice him, not yet, and he can take a moment to look closer at the coral. It was neither alive nor dead. Not unlike himself and yet so different to him or anything he had ever encountered before.

He missed his siblings, their quiet talks among the then empty roots, among safe coils with their constant presence around him. They were too distant to feel or simply gone now and it unnerved him. This was wrong. Perhaps they could help him make it right.

There was one other thing, other than his sort-of companion and his unsteady roiling mind, that remained constant. And this was the true constant. A steady beacon, that he could not see or hear, but simply felt in a way that he could not describe. A magnetic sort of pull that had him orbiting closer and closer.

It drew him in, out of the depths and dark underbelly of the jungle and the cave systems, towards the strange golden stones, the elegant walls meant to keep out creatures that wished to destroy the beacon. He was not welcome there, not yet, even though he meant no harm. He just needed to be closer.

He didn’t know how he knew that. He just knew it.

[mukamibabe]

What do u think karlheinz 3 wives or just cordelia would react to karl falling inlove with a guy?

Srry fot another request, im just rlly down bad for him

uhhh . ok. am i officially back? not uhh,, not really but all i know is: i can answer this one. whether i answer more, i have no idea- my amount of free time has run thin but i do know that i could do this pretty quickly. therefore! here you go!

no warnings other than.. the diamoms are.. the diamoms. they're not angels,, and uh cordelia is especially awful. that being said, tread carefully? i still never know how to warn about any works regarding this series bc.. it’s dark?? lol dl is it’s own warning.

cordelia is in complete denial. i mean, she can hardly believe karl loves anyone but her, and i highly doubt she took the news lightly. i also imagine her having a slight suspicion, because lets just say karl isn't exactly shy when it comes to spending time with his newfound love. sure, it might not be like.. extreme pda, but .. cordelia knows. she claims she does, at least. she thinks she knows this man to his very core, as he knows her. also, there's just.. something about the look in karl's eyes that makes her feel a sort of betrayal.

she keeps this info to herself for a while, but if anyone were to look closely, it won't be hard to realize that cordelia's being especially clingy as of late. it already hurts her pride enough, knowing that karlheinz has two other wives. but, for her beloved karl to be interested in a guy?? it's not something she could have even imagined, and it irks her more than anything. especially if karl's interested in a very .. 'plain' looking person. which is kind of hard anyways because cordelia has ridiculously high standards. will that stop her from trying to seduce them, though? definitely not.

cordelia will .. 99% at least attempt to sway the heart of both karlheinz (as per usual) and karl's love interest. and, if the seduction thing doesn't work on him? she'll make sure everyone in this messy situation is miserable. if she can't be happy with karl, no one else can be.

beatrix is shocked, but you will hear and see none of it. stone faced as always, no matter how she finds out of the news, she won't respond in anyways. deep down, i genuinely think she would be unbothered. in fact, she almost admires both karlheinz and his lover- it's a bold move. especially when there's so much... baggage involved. and by that, i mean : cordelia, christa + karl's millions of kids.

she's not supportive, nor is she against it. beatrix has always been one to stick to herself, and i highly doubt her and karl's new love interest will interact often, or at all, period, but truthfully, she wishes his new lover luck. she won't get in their way, but she knows there are others who will.

also i still.. i still feel that energy from her. who's to say she doesn't have a secret lady lover??? hm??

christa's heartbroken, but she would be no matter who karlheinz got with. she's .. going through a lot. like, a ton. it was hard for her to accept the fact that he had previous wives, but, with karl’s reassurance that she’s his true love, everything is okay. christa trusts karlheinz, at least, on some days, so .. there’s no way he could love anyone but her. i imagine christa being the last to find out, for some reason. i mean, i guess it makes sense because she’s kind of isolated and like.. locked away most of the time but.. idk. there’s also a part of her that literally will not process it. ..it makes her mental state in an entirely worse state than it was already, for multiple reasons. first, karl lied to her. did he? she is the one he loves the most, so why..?? ?why is she hearing all this stuff about him having a new lover?? with a guy, at that, too.. she’s in denial for the longest time but it’s also because she genuinely doesn’t believe it. hell, she doesn’t even know if she’s just hearing lies or not- even if she saw physical proof, i feel like she’d think she was hallucinating or something. 

once she’s past all of that, she shuts herself off. she’s completely heartbroken. empty. there was a part of her deep down that felt like karl never truly loved her, but at least she knew she was the favorite wife - again, as per karl’s reassurance.

honestly, if she were in a better mental state, i can see her genuinely worried for this guy. she loves karl, or at least harbors some sort of true feeling towards him, and her pity for his new lover isn’t out of hatred, it’s an actual concern. as much as she loves her husband, christa is very well aware that he’s never up to any good, and there is a part of her, deep down, that would feel bad for his new partner.

[momimf1ne]

i‘m getting the stitches in my mouth removed today and it reminded me that i forgot to write the loscar wisdom teeth fic :(

i might still do it though, because i love projecting my experiences onto my favourite blorbos <3

[jackinalex]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: All Time Low (Band) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth Characters: Jack Barakat, Alex Gaskarth, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Family, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Jalex - Freeform, Mpreg, Gay Parents, Marriage, Parenthood, Jesus idek what to tag this, Basically Jalex are pregnant and they have a toddler Summary:

When Alex learned he was pregnant with their second child only two years after Ethan was born, he wasn’t happy.

[vivian-pascal]

*knock knock* Hi, I'm here for the writing challenge. All I need is my deadline 😂 I was thinking you could pick my number idk I want something fun lol and um...🌷

yayyyy!!! hello my darlinggg!!! of course I will pick your numberrr!!

🌷- Javi Gutierrez and your topic is pwp 🤭

(I chose number 7 for u!)

make sure to post your work on July 8th!!

can't wait to see what you write love!

[evolnoomym]

Btw I’ve already written over 1k of words for that Dave York Fluff and I’m not even close to being done lol 😉🖤

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Snapdragon - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Snapdragon (Antirrhinum) - Meaning: Presumption, deception

Summary: Reader thinks her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, is cheating on her. Bruce tries to figure out how to tell her about his nighttime activities.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1864

Warnings: Suspected infidelity, angst, discussion of insecurities, a little bit of gaslighting/misdirection from Bruce, Alfred is a sassy bitch, Bruce is a mopey bastard, cliffhanger ending

Day 12 takes a sharp turn back into angst! I wrote this with the Christian Bale Batman and Michael Caine Alfred in mind, but use any Batman/Alfred you fancy. Also, sorry for the cliffhanger.

In Bloom Masterlist

Part 2: Snowdrop

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! ❤️

Bruce was cheating on you, you knew it. He hadn’t spent the night at your place in weeks, was texting you back at odd hours at night, and whenever you did manage to pin him down for a date he seemed disengaged, preoccupied, like he would rather be elsewhere. 

Dating Gotham’s Prince was difficult enough as it was, press following you everywhere and your face showing up in supermarket tabloids — you were just a regular person, you didn’t come from money or rub elbows with Gotham’s social elite, you had a regular boring desk job to pay the bills. 

You met Bruce by accident one day when you were on your way into work. You weren’t paying attention and almost walked into oncoming traffic, but Bruce had caught your arm just as you stepped off the curb, spilling your coffee. You’d turned, ready to give him such a tongue-lashing, but a motorcyclist zipped by at an ungodly speed right where you’d been about to step. Bruce then offered to replace your coffee and escort you to the office (“For your own safety,” he’d insisted with a  devilish smirk that you couldn’t say no to). 

You’d been dating ever since, almost a year now, which surprised most of the press. Numerous gossip sites were speculating about how you’d managed to keep Bruce’s interest for that long, but you’d learned to tune all their shit out. 

The insecurity you felt now stemmed from Bruce’s own behavior, not the latest expulsion of bile from the gossipmongers online. You’d texted Bruce to meet you at your place after work, only receiving a thumbs-up emoji back. 

You weren’t worth a real response. You weren’t worth his honesty. You weren’t worth him.

Shaking that insidious voice out of your head, you decided you needed a drink. In the middle of pouring yourself a glass of wine (box wine, another reminder of the insurmountable differences between you and Bruce) a knock sounded at the door. 

Looking through the peep hole, you saw a large bouquet of flowers held in front of a tired-looking Bruce. You opened the door and let him in, accepting the flowers and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” Bruce said, lingering near your cheek and stepping closer, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You tensed in his grasp, and he immediately let go, lifting your chin with a finger so you had to look him in the eye. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

Looking into his baby blues was a little too much to handle, so you simply nodded and moved away from him. 

“Yeah, just gonna get these in water,” you said, lifting the bouquet slightly. Fishing the one vase you owned out of the cupboard, you filled it at the sink. Bruce followed your movements, hands in his pants pockets while he watched. 

“I’ve only got a few minutes, unfortunately, but I was hoping you were free this Friday for a proper date,” he offered, smiling in his charming way. You only hummed your response, focusing on rearranging the flowers so they looked nice in the vase.

You had a speech prepared, known exactly what you wanted to say to him to get him to confess that he was cheating. Now that he was here, however, your well-formulated hypothesis was harder and harder to grasp. Like smoke, it dissipated the more you tried to catch it. 

“You sure everything’s okay? You seem tense,” Bruce observed. That was your cue, and you knew you had to take it before he got any closer. Once he had his hands on you, every rational thought would flee and you’d be at his mercy. 

“Are you cheating on me?” you asked, fighting to keep your composure. You’d never been good at confrontation, so you figured the best way to handle this was firm, direct, like ripping off a band-aid. You tried to put on a confident air even though your insides were practically liquifying with nerves. 

Bruce sighed, “We talked about this, you can’t believe anything you read on those sites. They’re just in it for the clicks-”

“I’m not-! I didn’t get it off the internet, it’s just…you’ve been distant lately, and I can’t think of any explanation other than you found someone more…in your league,” you explained, wrapping your arms around you in an effort to comfort yourself. The insecurities you felt earlier were slipping into your words, despite your best efforts to shove them aside.

Bruce softened, took a step toward where you were standing in your kitchen. When you didn’t flinch away, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “Babe, you are in my league. Hell, you’re way above my league, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” 

“I don’t either,” you said, “but this isn’t coming from an external source, it’s what I’ve noticed when it’s just the two of us. You seem distracted, like you don’t want to be in the moment with me. And it’s a rare occurrence that you text me back before midnight, if at all.” 

Bruce’s hands stroked down your arms, warming your skin. He leaned down into your eye line. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know you were feeling that way, I’ll be better about being present with you, I promise. There’s just been a lot going on at work and it’s been…busy, I’ve been busy, you know?” 

You nodded, “I know.” 

“But,” he said, unhooking your hands from where they’d been holding your elbows, “Now that I know, we can fix it. I’m gonna do better. Thank you for telling me.” 

You let him unfold your arms and bring them up around his shoulders, resting them there and bringing his hands to your lower back. He kept his grasp loose until, against your better judgment, you tightened your arms and pulled him into a hug. He returned your embrace, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

When he held you like this it was easy, too easy, to forget your stupid insecurities and let yourself trust him. In his embrace, every imperfection you nitpicked about yourself ceased to exist. He was a safe space — well, until recently. 

Bruce said your name quietly to get your attention. You looked up at him. 

“I love you,” he said, the look on his face betraying the heartbreaking truth of his statement. 

You pushed up on your toes and kissed his lips quickly — any slower and you’d completely melt into him. 

“I love you too, Bruce.” 

________

Later that night…

Bruce was well and truly fucked. He’d known it was only a matter of time before you noticed his odd behavior, the late hours, the preoccupation and distractibility. Fuck! 

He and Alfred had rules, dammit, and he should’ve followed them. 

No more than five dates or two months, whichever comes first. 

They’re never allowed to roam the house unsupervised. 

Most importantly, keep feelings out of it. Sex and companionship, nothing more and nothing less. 

But it was different with you. You’d…surprised him, which he didn’t think was possible anymore. You were funny and gorgeous — not his usual type, but still enchanting — and a little spiky, which only intrigued him more. For the first time, Bruce wanted to get to know someone on a deeper level. Maybe it was age, or he was finally ready to admit he wasn’t an island, or maybe he was just sick of the endless line of vapid, waifish model-types he usually dated, but whatever the reason you came into his life at exactly the right time and you were…perfect. 

What was the old saying, nothing good can stay? The truth of that statement weighed on him as he pulled off the suit, tossing the pieces haphazardly all over the cave, leaving a trail to where he eventually settled in his computer chair. 

“Y’know, sir, while kevlar is good at stopping bullets it does rather badly when left unattended on a damp cave floor,” Alfred scolded gently, bending to pick up the pieces of Batman. Bruce only grunted at his butler, pulling up the dossier he’d been preparing on the Joker. The last few weeks it looked like the psychopath had reemerged, which is why he’d been so preoccupied. Gotham barely survived the last scrape with that psychopath, so Batman had been doggedly hunting him after the sun went down. 

“Did you stop by her place, then?” Alfred asked, referring to you. “She seemed rather insistent on it.”

Bruce paused, then sighed and turned to face Alfred. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.” 

“Not exactly an incorrect assumption,” Alfred joked. Bruce flashed him a glare, but the butler didn’t notice. “Well, we knew this was coming didn’t we? Once you started breaking the rules for her, it was only a matter of time.” 

Bruce internally groaned, not wanting to admit Alfred was right. “I just wish I knew what to do. She’s the first person in a long time that I’ve actually wanted to have around. Present company excluded, of course.” 

“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “You’ve arrived at a crossroads, if you don’t mind me saying. You either tell her, or you don’t.” 

“How do I know if I should tell her?” 

“That answer lies in how much you trust her to keep your secret.” 

“And how do I know that I won’t lose her even if I tell her?” Bruce asked, voicing his biggest fear. Painting a target on your back as well as his, and then being shoved out of your life. 

Alfred laid a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder, like he always did when sharing a hard life lesson. “You don’t, Master Wayne.” 

The hand left his shoulder and Bruce turned back around, each man now going about their usual business. A few quick incident reports later Bruce made his way upstairs to his bedroom, hoping with how tired his body was that sleep would claim him quickly. 

No such luck.

Instead, he tossed and turned, going over every possible outcome of the inevitable conversation.

Option 1: He tells you about Batman, you accept it, and the two of you make it work. This, of course, was the ideal scenario so he knew that wouldn’t be the outcome. Nothing in his life worked out ideally. 

Option 2: He tells you about Batman, you freak out and break up with him, and you become a huge liability. Giving you that knowledge would be like handing you a grenade with the pin pulled out — if you held onto it, you were both safe, but if you let go…Kaboom. And how long could you hold onto a secret that big, that dangerous?

The last option was that he doesn’t tell you, you continue to assume he’s cheating on you, and you break up with him eventually. He loses you, but you remain unaware and therefore safe — from his enemies, from prosecution, from whatever else came from being Batman's girlfriend. 

Around three in the morning Bruce’s mind was made up, his next steps planned, and resolve steely, but he waited until half-past five (a more normal wake-up time) to text you. 

‘Dinner at my place tonight. We need to talk.’ 

Read Part 2 Here

[miraculouslumination]

Honestly I think one of the biggest reasons I wouldn't want to try and publish through like a Company or whatever is because my series is so unabashedly Queer and I don't want any forces to try and tell me to "dial it back" or "make it less obvious" or whatever

[suparhythm]

Silken Captivity (Haiku)

Starshine in her gaze,Heart spun by silken whispers,A cosmos in bloom.