#charlotte posts fic

[iamanartichoke]

Don't mind me, I'm just gonna re-post some of my old fic, bc I've recently been skimming some of it and yesterday I actually gave this particular fic the time and attention-span to re-read it carefully and, yknow what, this is some good fucking fic. If I do say so myself. Sooo ... yeah.

Edit: I wasn't ready to post this yet but it posted as soon as I inserted the link, so. Brief summary - Endgame!Thor seeks out Loki's body in order to give him a funeral, and is shocked by what he finds.

TW: suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, depression, alcoholism, death, internalized fatphobia, questionable jotun biology, thor crying a lot, the author is seeking validation.

[north-noire]

henry emily and the puppet-girl (charlie)

[oceanwani]

hits your katacora with the yuri beam

alt ver. without the silly stuff in the background

[yourteght]

» EXPRESSO DE LEMBRANÇAS — pedido pessoal

⟅22.07.2024 — pq não me disseram que fazer capa não é só tacar coisa e tcharam, ta pronto! Num gostei :') sair do bloqueio criativo está me custando meus últimos neurônios e o pouco de sanidade que me resta e não ta tudo bem kkkkk brincadeira gente (não a parte do bloqueio) eu amo fazer capas inspiradas em bebidas, sendo as minhas favoritas: chás e diferentes tipos de processamento de café :3 sou apaixonado por bebidas quentes (por mais que eu deixe ficar morno por ser muito fresco) e essa daqui eu confesso que me inspirei em um latte (!) o nome ta expresso, eu sei MAS olha que LINDINHA QUE FICOU :3 o processo dessa capa foi uma das que mais me deu trabalho pq corta o png do katakuri levou toda a dignidade que eu tinha (e pior, nem parece que deu trabalho pq mal aparece os recortes que fiz :')) mas eu amei essa daqui, senti um cheiro de café e depois dessa capa, eu estou com muita vontade de um latte.

[eleajay]

Pls don’t hate me I’m not pedo irl :’)

Yes I ship charcifer/morningstarcest pls don’t hate me

[dfastback68]

Dude at yoga tonight had half his head shaved like King, so fuck it, modern AU kataking:

Let’s also say this is midlife crisis Alber. Maybe he’s had a falling out with Kaido, maybe Kaido keeled over of a heart attack or something, who knows. Alber is trying to figure out what the rest of his life looks like after 47 years old. He’s done karate or kendo or something his entire life, but he needs to try something new. So, he gives yoga a shot. He gets into it. He REALLY gets into, and next thing he knows he’s leading a few classes a week at his fav studio. He’s not sure if his life is fixed yet, but he sure feels better.

The studio likes to do combo or outreach classes. Maybe they host tai chi, or partner with the senior center, and offer low pressure, fun classes for working parents and their kids. Alber usually does intermediate or ‘serious’ classes. People like his style but he’s not the nicest yogi in the building. 

One night one of the other instructors is in a bit of a panic. She was supposed to lead tonight’s class for a group from another local gym, but something came up with her kid and she has to leave. Alber agrees to host in her place. How bad can it be?

It’s not just any gym group: it’s the broiest bros from an MMA group, the least flexible meatheads this city has to offer. The class is probably a joke to them, a team building or bonding opportunity where they might learn something new to incorporate into their exercise routine. It’s probably funnier when the class is led by an instructor that’s the stereotypical woman of ninety pounds of wispy muscle. They don’t quite know what to make of Alber.

Alber does his best to keep them on task, but the dudes are having fun giving each other shit when they can’t make a pose. Even if he keeps it simple. Some of them are more flexible than others, so he assumes thsoe ones actually give a shit about their exercise routine beyond bulking up. He does have to admit it is funny when one of them topples over or elbows their neighbor. They’re not suited for this, but he supposes he’ll give them points for trying.

There is one guy, though, at the back of the class, that’s been quiet and mindful the entire time. He also seems to know what the poses are before Alber explains them, and he can stretch farther than anyone else. He’s got bright hair and a black mask covering his face; it’s flu season, so that makes sense. He seems friendly enough with the others, but otherwise focuses on the practice.

Their eyes meet a few times over the course of the hour, and there’s a quiet intensity to the man that Alber finds very attractive. 

By the time the class ends, most of the dudes are complaining about being sore where they didn’t know they could be sore. Alber takes that as a win, because now they’ve learned some begrudging respect for yoga. They thank him for the class and the workout, and one by one they leave. The quiet, intense man lingers.

“You’ve done yoga before,” Alber says.

The man nods. “My sister used to drag me with her, but she moved away a few years ago and I stopped. I should get back into it.”

“You have good form. And balance.”

“Thanks,” the man says, then sticks out his hand. “I’m Katakuri.”

“Alber,” he responds, and tries very hard not to melt at how firm Katakuri’s grip is. Katakuri’s definitely got the body of a fighter, and Alber gets momentarily distracted by the way his shirt strains around his biceps. “I usually lead the evening intermediate classes. If you’re interested.”

“Yeah,” Katakuri says, tone soft, then he straightens: “I mean, yes. Definitely. Are you –”

“Katakuri!” someone’s voice booms from outside the studio. Two of the other dudes wedge into the doorframe. “We’re waiting on you, let’s go!”

“‘C’mon man, flirt with the yoga guy later, we’re gonna be late.”

Katakuri’s face turns beet red behind the face mask. His friends laugh to themselves as they head back out. 

Alber smiles, as best he can. “I don’t want you to miss your ride. But you’re welcome back any time.”

Katakuri thanks him again, bids him goodnight, and then hurries out after his friends. 

Really, Alber would find it more endearing if he didn’t know how screwed he was, too. Because he really should have gotten that man’s number before letting him leave.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

how have i written 11,000 words of AU adar angst/smut??? how on EARTH did this happen????

i... want to be free of this.

ANYWAY, for those who wish to partake, here is what's published thus far. i sense a move to Ao3 coming, peeps. this thing has plot now and supporting characters.

*heavy sigh*

[lgbridgertonqa]

LGBridgerTonQA Week 2024

It's that time of year again - happy pride, Bridgerton fandom!

We invite you to join us from JULY 7TH - 13TH 2024, to celebrate all queer Bridgerton content, canon or not. For the third year in a row, all week long on our twitter we will be posting queer headcanons, fics, edits and art about all of our favourite Bridgerton characters, as well as posting fun activities for you to all join in the fun - and we would love nothing more than for you to be a part of it. Any creativity is welcome!

As part of our introduction to our theme this year, we received help in the following mysterious letter from Sir Philip Crane...

We invite you this year to be inspired by the language of love through flowers! And if you're looking for some inspiration through prompts, look no further: below is our daily schedule for characters, tropes, songs, themes, and most importantly flowers, to help inspire you to get involved somehow.

These are all obviously just a guide or a starting off point for anything you might want to create. If any characters you want to create something for aren’t featured, or you want to use a theme for a character on a different day - don’t let that limit you! Post as and when you please - just be sure to let us know with a tag or link of some kind so we can boost you!

Come join us in the garden - love is in bloom!

Important Links: - Our Twitter Account - Our About Us Page - Our ask box - Our Ao3 Collection for LGBridgerTonQA Week 2024 - Our Ao3 Collections from previous years and celebrations (Gay Week 2023, Gay Week 2022, Gay Bridgerween 2022 & LGBridgerTonQA Holiday Gift Fic Exchange 2023)

[messysketchyobeyme]

Hazshit Hostel fans when they realize that demons are not an original concept and therefore other pieces of media can have characters called Lucifer, Asmodeus, Mammon, etc…!

[dailyhatchetfield]

day 50 - goodnight, kyle

a link to the fic this is based on is under the cut

[oh-stars]

Duck!

D is for Duck

Ohstars Alphabet Prompts | G | 667 words | cw: N/A

---

“We don’t get here enough,” Steve says as he pushes the stroller. 

Robin hums. “No, we don’t.” She tugs down the visor on the stroller to hide Charlotte from the sun more. “I’m surprised their parents let you take them.” 

Steve’s eyes count each kid again, all seven accounted for, as they head to the next exhibit. “I think the Feds’ story about me helping get them out of the fire really put the final nail in the ‘Steve’s a Competent Babysitter’ title. Kind of hard to come up with an excuse why I can’t take them somewhere when I saved their lives.” It's not that simple, he knows that, but he’s proven time and time again that he’ll do what it takes to get those little shits out of harm’s way. 

Erica stops in the middle of the walkway and points to the ice cream stand with a raised eyebrow. Their deal still rings in his head. 

“Fine,” he calls, “go.” He can’t deny her anything, especially not when it’s as hot as it is out here. They hadn’t really taken into account the August heat when they made the last minute plan for a day at the zoo. 

She holds her head high as she passes the others and heads for the stand. 

By the time Steve and Robin make their way to the stand, the others already have their ice cream cones – arguing over which flavor is supreme. They’re all wrong, nothing beats butterscotch, but Steve doesn’t have the fight in him to get in the middle of that. He pays for everyone and takes Charlotte over to a nearby table so he can share the cup of ice cream he got for them. 

She’s been grumpy all day. He’s pretty sure it’s the fact he won’t let her down to run around, not with the cast still on her leg. He’d love nothing more for her to be able to play like she should, but he also needs her to heal right, so stroller jail it is. 

“C’mon, Lots,” Steve says, holding out the spoon for her to take a bite. 

Charlotte pushes away the spoon with a mighty, “No!” 

Steve sighs and takes the bite for himself. 

“I thought she liked the zoo,” Dustin asks, pointing to her. 

“She does,” Steve says. “She’s mad at me.” 

“How do you anger a toddler?” Mike asks, a snotty little eyebrow raised. 

Steve just shrugs. His patience is thinning and as much as his little girl lights up his life, right now, he needs a goddamn break. He keeps trying to feed her, every few bites, while the kids decide where they’re going next. The reptile house seems to be their next hit. 

Suddenly, Charlotte lights up, straining against the seatbelt on her stroller. “Da-ee! Duck!” she cries, pointing past him. 

He looks over his shoulder and, sure enough, a few ducks are waddling through the gate toward the tables. Huh. Steve sets down the cup of ice cream and quickly pulls Charlotte out of her stroller for a better look. “You see the duckies?” 

“Duck,” she says, toothy grin wide as she carefully watches them. 

They drove all this way to see cool animals and spend the day together, and the one thing that puts a smile on her face isn’t even a part of the zoo. 

The ducks quack as they get closer. Steve knows he shouldn’t encourage them, but he reaches into the diaper bag for some of Charlotte’s crackers so she can feed them. It’s the least he can do to make this day better for her. 

“Gentle,” he says, helping her scatter the cracker around. 

She giggles, squealing with delight as one of them investigates her cast. “Duck! No!” she says, reaching down to shoo the duck away. 

He looks up to see the kids all done with their ice cream and ready to move on. “Go on,” he tells them. “I think we’re going to be here a minute.”

---

Thank you to @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

You’re probably asked this all the time, but how far along are you in the Cold Heart Fics. No rush at all if they are still going, but I literally eat those fics up. You truly are just an amazing writer. Also completely understand how hard it is to find time to write them or do the art especially with everyone having their own lives lol.

Hello! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

Contrary to what you said, people have actually been very kind and... rarely asks about the Cold Heart fics! It's actually quiet relieving and you guys have been very patient and kind. I know I've been very very slow and stuff not only because of academic reasons but also some family stuff that requires long-term adjustments 😔.

However, I promise you guys I do not forget about it at all! I write every single night, be it one paragraph or a whole outline of a scene. I want it to be consistent and sticks to the timeline of the MWII campaign. There're lots of scrap outs and rewriting, so that's also one of the cause.

Cold Heart fic EXISTS GUYS IT DOES.

I'm actually kinda insane about it I made a whole chart depicting the time difference between campaign missions and the time difference between Las Almas, Spain/Amsterdam, Al Mazrah/Urzikstan, and Chicago so I can fit in some important scenes for Ghost and Jade's development 💀.

I'm literally the embodiment of ☝️🤓 emoji at this point but IMAGINE THE POSSIBLE ADDITIONAL SCENES WITH ALL THESE UNUSED HOURS 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

Anyway, thank you so much for checking up Anon, and thank you guys for the patience! 🤗

[lilolilyr]

1k, rated G, no warnings, AU meet-cute

Thanks for the inspiration, @berenaadvent! <3

Spoilery summary below the cut:

Back from her last deployment and in the middle of a messy divorce, Bernie tries to appease her daughter by buying her favorite fruit: tangerines. Meanwhile, Serena has just unwittingly bought the last ones at the market right before Bernie can ask for some - but of course, Serena is willing to help out a fellow mother of a difficult teenage daughter! That Bernie is nice to look at doesn't hurt, either...

My Berena tag list, lmk if you want on/off it: @sapphicdbc @akaanonymouth @starfleetwitch @madam-wakefield @shippingsincebeforeyouwereborn

[lifesizehysteria]

Tending a Garden in Bloom | A Violet Bridgerton Fic

Fandom: Queen Charlotte/Bridgerton (TV)

Rating: M

Summary: A one-shot of self-discovery and sexual re-awakening

A/N: There was going to be a part one to this in which Violet processes her grief and confusion about moving on from Edmund in her sexual reawakening that was based on that small scene in episode 5 of Queen Charlotte where we see her alone in bed. Unfortunately, I just was never able to capture it the way I wanted, and decided to go ahead and publish this on its own. Perhaps I'll be able to get it right in the future, but for now I'm happy with this. I fell in love with Violet's sexual reawakening and the complicated feelings that must come with it, and wanted to explore that without throwing her into relationship. This one-shot is the result of where I thought the private discussion between Violet and Lady Danbury at the exhibition was going to lead, but even though the show didn't go there, I still felt compelled to give it to Violet, anyway.

~

Violet stared up at the canopy above her bed, her blankets pulled up to her chin while the dwindling fire cut dancing shadows into the sapphire blue glow of the moon. Lady Danbury’s words still echoed in her mind, hours since leaving the exhibition.

It is alright to want it. 

It felt like a revelation. Permission she had not yet been able to grant herself. She loved Edmund, and she always would. As long as she lived and for eternity after. However, loving him did not keep her from being lonely, and remaining devoted to a man who was no longer able to return her love only made her loneliness inevitable, and utterly inescapable. It was her who remained. Her who walked the earth, living, breathing… wanting.

Sunlight. 

Air.

Touch. 

She closed her eyes. Images from the exhibition conjured before her—bodies lounging, open and bare, limbs tangling together, and hands. So many hands… 

At the time, surrounded by the crowd and still clinging to denial about her feelings, she had refused to allow her imagination to wander beyond the static figures. Now, she made no such effort. They came to life before her and she watched, enraptured, as two lovers moved together, consumed entirely by one another. As their passion reached its climax, her own heartbeat quickened in her chest, and she threw the blanket off of herself, sure she would overheat despite the chill in the air.

She tried to think of something else, anything else, but her mind was persistent. For weeks prior she had been desperately avoiding it, because if she did not think about it, she could not want it. But now that she had thought about it, and she did want it, imagining it was not enough. Quite the opposite, in fact. She needed more. She needed to feel it. She needed…

Featherlight, she touched the backs of her fingers to her cheek; it was hot beneath them. She turned over her hand, feeling the pressure against her face as she leaned into her palm. It wasn’t quite the same as being touched by another, but still, it made her skin tingle. She dragged her fingers over her lips, and down the length of her neck. At the base, she could feel the rapid pulse of her heart when her finger slipped into the hollow spot there. It beat harder when she imagined lips being pressed against it. She let her mind dwell there—lifting her chin and extending her neck, feeling her belly tighten at the thought of being kissed. She wished she could remember what it felt like, but she had pushed those memories away for so long that her body had not stored them. Now, for the first time since she lost Edmund, desire coursed through her, and she wanted to remember it. She wanted to remember everything.

She raked her fingernails gently across her chest, one finger dipping just below her neckline. Her hands slid down over her bosom and across her stomach, gripping the cotton of her nightdress as she pressed her fingers down into her belly beneath. It was soft from age and growing babies, but also sensitive, twitching beneath the slight roughness of the fabric. When her hands continued lower, she pulled her knees up, causing the hem of her nightdress to fall into a pile around her hips. As she slid her hands up towards her knees, she squeezed her thighs together, tightening her inner muscles against the pulse that had so persistently ached there. Of course, that only resulted in it pulsing even harder.

With her knees pressed together as tightly as her eyes were closed, Violet inhaled slowly. It felt like she was standing at the doorway to the future, but was unable to open it and take the first step over the threshold. She could stop. She could lock that door and remain where she had been all those years…

It is alright to want it.

She did want it. She wanted it so desperately that she was sure her want would burn her up from the inside out if she did not satisfy it. Touch. That was what she craved. A lifetime had passed since she had felt the touch of another, since she had felt another’s flesh against her own, and although she had thought she would never have such desire again, now she wanted, more desperately than she had wanted anything in a very long time, to be touched. 

Violet opened her eyes. Looking down over the curves and slopes of her body, she took another deep breath before letting her knees fall open. She slid her hand down the inside of her thigh. Her skin was smooth and supple beneath her fingers. Pausing when her hand reached her mound of curls, she hovered for a moment before slipping her fingers, shaking slightly, down into the folds beneath. 

She explored tentatively, reacquainting herself with the feeling after not being touched there for so long. She had never done anything like this before. Everything was slick and warm and soft, and just the light pressure of her fingertips made her ache for more.

Her fingers moved instinctively towards the source of her pulsing need. She thought it might be difficult to find, since she’d never touched it herself and only had her memories of Edmund doing so to guide her. However, she knew she’d found it when her breath caught in her throat from the sensation. Sliding her finger over it again sent a ripple of pleasure up through her body. She licked her lips, catching her bottom one with her teeth to keep herself silent as she did it a third time and her toes curled into the mattress.

It felt as if that one tiny spot was connected to every nerve in her body. She moved her fingers across it in various directions, until finally determining that slow, rhythmic circles were most pleasurable. 

For a moment, as the sensation deepened and began to spread, Violet wondered if it was improper, which caused a flutter of anxiety to tighten in her chest. It was not as though she was a virgin, some unmarried young girl who knew not of marital relations. Her husband had touched her this way. It had never felt improper then. Of course, that had been intimacy between a man and his wife, and this was… Well, she didn’t know what this was, but if it was alright for a husband to do it, then surely it was not so different for her to do it herself. Besides, it felt good. So good, in fact, she believed that stopping now might cause her, quite literally, to perish.

She pushed the thought aside. It did not matter. What mattered was the way her skin burned as if she laid bare beneath the high summer sun. How her breathing turned to gasps like rushing wind through her parted lips. How every stroke of her fingers washed over her like lapping waves at high tide. 

Sunlight. 

Air.

Touch. 

She pressed her hips down harder against her hand, intensifying the sensation until her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her legs began to twitch. She could feel herself building towards an edge that had once been so familiar, but now felt strange and new. Her heart beat like a storm against her chest. She grasped at her pillow, turning her face into it to muffle the cries she was unable to contain any longer. Pressure built until her back arched and white-hot lightning streaked through her body while she crashed like thunder over the edge, feeling as if she had become one with the heavens. 

She felt herself sink back down into her trembling body, and for a moment, she didn’t dare move. Her chest heaved with every breath, and her limbs felt both weightless and leaden as the tension melted out of them. After another minute, she straightened one leg and turned her hips so her other leg fell over it, her knee resting against the mattress. Her nightdress was still gathered in a pool around her hips. Unwilling to let go of the moment just yet, she laid with her eyes closed, listening to her barely slowing heartbeat rush in her ears while relishing in the sense of relief. Physical, yes, but also more than that. She hadn’t known it was possible, that she could do that herself. For weeks she had been tortured by desire, wrestling with guilt and confusion because she thought that the only way to satisfy that unrelenting need was to remarry, or, heaven help her, take a lover. But now… This discovery that she could satisfy her own physical needs granted her the precious gift of freedom. Freedom to make the decision that was right for her, on her own time, without fear that her physical desires would rush her into a choice she would later come to regret. 

She was not yet ready to consider another marriage. Violet had known great love, and she did not take for granted the blessing it had been, nor was she foolish enough to believe she could ever find another like it again. The most she would hope for from another marriage would be companionship, and even with the kindest man, marriage would undoubtedly bring significant change, and loss of control that she was not sure she wanted. Aside from this most recent development, her life was rich and full, and she was quite happy.  On the other hand, taking a lover certainly had its advantages, allowing her life to remain virtually unchanged. However, as a woman, especially one of her status, it required secrecy that came with great risk and potential for scandal that could lead to ruin for not only her but for her entire family. 

Now she had the freedom not to choose until she was ready, or in fact, not at all. She could go on with life as it already was and, at the very least, have her most urgent physical needs satiated. She did think she would want more in time. Even now, she still ached to feel another’s touch—to be held, to be kissed, to be desired. But knowing she didn’t have to choose, and that her mind was finally clear enough for her to trust her own judgment, was immensely freeing. 

Turning onto her side toward the fire, she nestled down into her pillow, feeling practically giddy. She did not know what the future held in store for her, but as she considered the possibilities, she had to cover the grin growing across her face as mirth bubbled out into laughter. One thing was for sure. Whatever else happened, it seemed she would be taking up gardening, because Violet was most certainly in bloom. 

[dfastback68]

To Begin Another End

Fandom: One Piece (Live Action TV 2023), One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: T Relationship: Charlotte Katakuri/King the Wildfire Summary: In search of a lost strain of cocoa trees, Katakuri travels to Kuraigana Island, where he unexpectedly connects with King the Wildfire.

[mortonmurphy]

When Louise received the letter from Mary, she only took note of it long enough to write an address for the envelope her reply would be sent in, before burning it. She didn’t read the letter, aside from the very bottom, letting her know who it was from.

Louise didn’t want to know the middle part. She didn’t want to know what had happened to Mary after Braxton’s. She didn’t want to know about Silas, about the Luckenbill heir he attached himself to, about any of it.

All Louise Hare wanted was to disappear, to bury herself in the core of the world and hide away in a shelter no one could find. She’d burrow, like a rabbit, finding safe haven from a wolf. It was all she ever wanted, really, to be left alone.

OR, After she escapes Braxton's, when she thinks everything is behind her, Louise gets a letter from Mary. She doesn't take it well.