#writing challenge 2018

[marisferasiop]

Two roads diverge in a forest...

Summary: Ezra is on your traveling crew. You get stranded after a crash; only you two are left. He is eerily calm, which grates on your fraying nerves. On your hike, you get the story out of him about how he lost his arm while you search a crashed ship for parts. He guides you into confronting a scary choice: stay here, and likely perish, or attempt to overtake a crew scouring the natives' camps for slaves to capture and sell, and steal their ship. What do you have to lose? And what choice can you live with?

Rating: PG for offscreen violence? Language?

Wordcount: 1400

For @perotovar 's frith challenge! Ezra is aligned with the god Tyr. Main attributes/values: integrity, choices and consequences, missing a limb/extremity, reasoning, and bravery (esp in battle).

AN: Hey I'm super anxious about this because of Expectations so here before I drive myself insane for 2 more weeks 🫣

The forest smells like age and decay, and you only sort of hate it.

“Tell me again, birdie,” your partner behind you sighs, before dropping his weight onto a fallen log with a grunt of exhaustion. You pause halfway up the embankment and glare down at his tired smile.

Why is he so insufferably sufferable? Fucking asshole.

“I’m going to kill you first if you don't get your ass up.” You wave your rail gun at his entire self, and lean against the mossy tree at your back.

Ezra huffs a laugh and nods. “I would not blame you. We’ve been marching for hours. Let's have a small respite. Tell me about your planet. What is waiting for you, back home?”

Begrudgingly, you stomp back down through the fallen leaves and rotting undergrowth to the fallen tree and plop next to him, kicking your sore feet out as far as you can reach to get your weight off them.

“Nothing. Not really. Deadbeat parents, an ex who’s probably still fucking my former best friend... I told you I came out here to get away from it.”

He nods sagely and leans back against a branch. It groans under his weight, but holds. “So why do you want to go back?”

“I don't,” you insist. “I just want to get off this fucking planet.”

Ezra hums and scratches his chin with his one hand. It draws your eyes to his pinned sleeve. “I have been marooned before, though through the catalyst of a mutiny, rather than a crash landing. My partner on that excursion was much less appealing than you, birdie. In both companionship and conversational aptitude. I too have nothing to return to. So who says we cannot sojourn here a while? This planet is not overpopulated, nor beholden to the capitalist overlords that plague so much of our galaxy. The food is – not exactly top tier, but it is simple to obtain. The water is drinkable. The air, non- toxic. The natives are not friendly, no. But they haven't bothered us.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Just because I don't want to get back to my shit life doesn't mean I want to stay in the fucking jungle, either.”

“Then I see two options, birdie. We endeavor to find and trade with the natives, if they have the parts we need to repair our vessel, or we follow that chemtrail,” he points up and traces a white line in the pink sky. “And if the folks who have that ship are not friendly, we overtake them.”

“We’ve already checked half a dozen other crashes, and nothing has been compatible. It would be incredible luck if the natives have the part we need, or if those beings on that ship are friendly.”

Ezra nods and pitches forward, balancing his elbow on his knee. “Overtaking, it is, then?”

“I don't see how the other option is valid. I doubt the natives will have usable parts if none of the ships so far have been a match to ours.”

After aoment of quiet thought, you stand and come in front of Ezra, holding a hand out. “C’mon old man. That chemtrail ain't gonna follow itself.” he takes your hand and lets you drag him to standing with a groan.

A while later, and after much inane (and breathless; you try to remember the mentioned puncture in his diaphragm and forcibly keep your pace slower to compensate) small talk, you finally bring it up again:

“So how’d you lose your arm? While you were marooned?”

Ezra snorts and nods, pausing on the ridge you’ve just mounted to catch his breath. “A bit of an exercise in trust, if you will. I chose to trust someone that others on my side would not have, and I lost my arm for it. But it was my choice to make, and therefore my consequence to bear.”

“So you made an ill- advised choice, and lost your damned hand. But you're cool with it? Sure,” you snark, slapping a plant frond out of the path. You hear him snort behind you and roll your eyes. You stop in your tracks and side-eye him. "Why am I taking your advice, then?"

Ezra huffs a winded laugh and pauses as well, happy for the break. “Every moment of our lives are filled with choices, birdie. And thus, consequences. Owning them makes all the difference.”

The spiraled end of the chemtrail looms closer in the yellowing sky, and after perhaps an hour of scaling a worn-low mountain, you can hear voices through the fauna.

“You got charges?” You ask, and Ezra tugs his rail gun from his belt, clicking it on. The whirring matches your own, and you both check pockets for more. Five double- charges between you, to split; a total of twelve shots between you. You pocket three of them and leave Ezra with one loaded and one in his pocket. He won't be able to switch them quickly; you'll have to cover him.

“Stay low and pick them off.” You peer through the foliage at the ground crew of perhaps six men, all carrying heavier weapons than you. A merc or trawling team, certainly. There are indigenous people tied to posts on one end of their small camp.

There is only one man you can see with a rail gun, staring out at the trees with a frown. The rest of them seem to be waiting around aimlessly, sitting around a low fire and talking while something cooks on the flames.

You quickly dispatch them, over and over as they scatter and shoot into the trees. Ezra kneels next to you, watching through his scope levels on a fallen log as you pick them off. When two men are left, hands raised and guns on the ground in surrender, you get up and go down the slope to the clearing.

“Hey what the fuck, lady!” One of them yells. You put your muzzle on his forehead and he clenches his jaw, glaring at you, and then Ezra, in turn. Ezra keeps his barrel trained on the other man, watching out of the corner of his eye as the man’s hand inches toward his belt. The rail gun zips loudly in the clearing, once, and the second man falls into the leaves, dead. Your prisoner flinches and grits his teeth, snarling wordlessly at you both.

“You can join your friends’ corpses as they rot here, or you can hitch a ride off this planet with us. Either way, your ship is ours, now.”

He relents, and you leave Ezra to watch him while you start digging in the pockets of the dead for the ship's starter. Finally, you go and cut the bindings off the huddled group of natives and watch them scatter. You hear a shout, and come back to find a dead body on the ground. Ezra shrugs at you and you nod, certain there was a decent enough reason. Regardless, the assholes were kidnapping people to sell, and you're not sorry they're dead. You say as much to Ezra as you clamber into the ship and prep it for flight, checking all sensors as you flip them. The ship starts right up, humming happily, and you take off.

You glance at him and then look out the skyport, noting how close the landing site of the other ship actually was to your own once you're in the air. “Would you do it again?” You ask, slamming the shields off and diverting full engine power to the thrusters until you break atmo.

Ezra looks at you, confounded, and his brow asks the question for him: do what, birdie?

“The choice you made. When you lost your arm. Would you make that choice again? If you knew the consequence?”

“Yes. I believe I would.”

“Why?”

He is quiet for a moment, watching through the window at the fast- disappearing planet. “Because it was the best choice at the time. And it was mine to make. No one forced me; not even the situation coerced my decision. It offered our enemy a moment of peace, and then a moment of retribution when my side betrayed them. And it was well-deserved retribution. So yes, birdie. I’d do it again.”

You nod, your fingers tightening around the steering shafts. “So would I. What we did down there. What I chose.”

Then it was the right choice, his sigh says, and he leans his head back, eyes closed, while your ship breaks atmo.

[crowandmousewritingco]

The Aurelac Gallery Pt1

Pairing: Ezra x gn!reader

Words: 1.2k

Rating: G (will turn M in later chapters)

Summary: After suffering from artist's block, you travel to Secret Springs for inspiration. And maybe something more.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: I wrote this for the Secret Springs project led by @secretelephanttattoo . If you are curious about any other of the fabulously creative people also participating, see their blog for masterlists. Also this is my first time writing for Ezra. I hope I portrayed him well. Thank you to @morallyinept for the wonderful writing aides. Truly doing Kevva's work out here.

Part 2

To say you were in an artist stump was an understatement. It had been months since you sold a piece and your art dealer wasn’t very thrilled at your performance. You tried to explain that nothing inspired you anymore, and in an exasperated voice your art dealer said, “Well go on vacation or something. Find inspiration somewhere else.” 

And that’s just what you did. Here you were spending time in a beautiful resort town bustling with visitors and locals alike. It was an idyllic scenery with the ocean on one side and beautiful skiing on the other. Everything was at your fingertips to inspire the next stage of your art career. Which was almost too overwhelming for you. You could paint everything, but where should you start? 

You sighed as you leaned against the wall of a local coffee shop called Catfish Coffee. You had confessed to the barista there that nothing was giving you inspiration. He kindly suggested a gallery down the road called Aurelac that could help you jump start your creativity. 

So there you were finishing your coffee thinking about art. You took your final sips, tossing the paper cup in the closest trash can. You looked around to get your bearings and followed the street just like the barista said. The road curved around the stunning architecture. Everything felt different but yet it flowed so easily into the next building. Eventually you entered a more modern section of town. A simple neon sign hung outside reading Aurelac. 

Well that was easy. You thought to yourself before approaching the glass doors. The cool air chilled your skin as you entered the gallery. It was bigger than you were expecting, each wall filled with tons of different mediums. Your eye was drawn to the brightly colored oil paintings on the far right wall. Approaching the fall wall, your eyes took in each piece with awe and analyzed each stroke. 

While you went in to lean closer to a particularly fascinating painting, when a smooth Southern voice. “Such an alluring abstraction.” You jumped back not hearing him approach despite the hardwood floods

He chuckled. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to frighten such an intriguing patron.” 

“No harm done. I just wanted to see what techniques this artist used. Reminds me of Dorthea Tanning’s work.” You said taking in the stranger’s appearance. The man was taller than you expected, and quite well dressed too. It seems he had money from the immaculate three piece dark plum suit he was wearing. Included in his ensemble were a pair of cufflinks with a lavender gem of sorts in a silver clasp. 

The strangers’ eyebrows raised in amusement. “Not everyone knows that Surrealist’s name. How might you have come upon such an artist?” He asked curiously. 

“Oh I actually minored in art history in college. She was always one of my favorites to talk about.” You answered blushing a bit. 

“And she is criminally underrated in the world of the Surrealists.” He agreed standing closer to you to take a look at the piece that sparked such conversation. 

“I always love Surrealism. There is something about the way they represented such human ideas was amazing.” You smiled as the passion for art returned to your mind. 

“The subconscious aspect was a compelling part of that particular movement.” The man added though now this stranger had drawn his attention to you more than the art. 

“I agree. As much as I hate to admit it, if it wasn’t for Freud then we would have this moment.” 

“Exactly.” He grinned. “Oh goodness, where are my manners? I have failed to introduce myself to such an intellectual.” He held out his hand to you. “Ezra.” 

You held out your hand and introduced yourself by taking his hand in yours. The first thing you noticed about Ezra’s hand was the roughness of them. From his outwardly appearance you were expecting his hands to be soft. The next thing you noticed was the tightness of his grip. It was firm, but didn’t hurt like some other handshakes you’ve received. This man was truly fascinating. 

“I believe you aren’t a local around here?” Ezra asked.

You chuckled and shook your head. “No, far from it. I’m actually here on vacation. Well vacation in the loosest sense.” 

“Oh and pray tell what does that mean?” He questioned tipping his head to the side. 

“Just that I’m an artist, I guess not much nowadays. I haven’t created anything in months, and my agent jokingly told me to go on vacation. So here I am.” You chuckled, it sounding a little sad. You really hadn’t meant to stop creating, but unfortunately that’s how it goes sometimes.

“Well I can tell you that my little corner of paradise has lots to offer, not to mention idyllic scenery for all types.” 

“True but I’ve never been one for landscapes,” You admit. 

“Considering your admiration for the Surrealists, that doesn’t surprise me.” Ezra smirked, taking in the painting once again. 

You hummed in response letting the conversation fall into a comfortable silence. Though Ezra started fidgeting at the need for dialog. And it seemed you were having the same issue because the two of you together said. 

“Can I paint you?” “I could be your model!” 

Both of you paused for a moment, your mind catching up to what just happened. 

“What did you say?” You asked looking back at Ezra. 

He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Well I said that I am more than willing to stand in for your artwork. With a brain as astute as yours I would be more than honored to be your muse” You weren’t quite sure but there might have been a brush of pink against his cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. You covered your mouth with your hand as your giggle turned into a full on laugh. 

Ezra looked at you confused. “I apologize. Did I say something amusing?” 

It took you a moment to recover from your laughing fit, but after a few deep breaths you giggled. “Quite the opposite because I asked you if I could paint you.”

He sighed in relief and chuckled along with you. “Then that seemed to settle the matter.’ 

“That was easier than I was expecting,” You chuckled.

“How about you come over to my abode and I can cook us a wonderful meal to get those endorphins moving,” Ezra suggested. 

You quirked your eyebrow up. “That makes it sound like a date, Ezra.” 

“See it as a way for me to give back to such an amazing creature.” He smirked and you blushed in return. 

“How can I refuse such an offer?” You smiled up at him. 

“Perfect I’ll arrange everything and I’ll have my driver pick you up around say 7:30” He states. 

You blush again “Oh that’ll be perfect. I’m staying at the nice B&B just down the road.” 

“Then that’s where you shall be whisked away from there then.” 

You exchanged numbers. You really weren’t sure what you’ve gotten yourself into but you knew something exciting would come out of this. 

[that-shy-fanfic-writer]

I accomplished a thing that I’m proud of so here’s a post to celebrate that.

[sailorspica]

its scares me that a good chunk of the characters.(notable ones too) we need to delve deeper into them ie july leos vs august leos. also how yams is a virgo himself but putting like 2 of the arguably worst characters (karina and rod reiss) as virgos. also if yams is the creator of the world, that means aot world's god is a virgo?????

begging for astrology asks

yams put himself in a sandwich between a cop (MP ralph aug 26) and karina (sept 3) like?? virgo is notably the least populated of all the signs in my all character breakdown, like he wanted to avoid himself, but the narrative weight these virgos pull does the opposite imo

on leo: you have fallen into my trap of advanced/esoteric soapboxing: decanates. so! each sign is a 30 degree wedge in the sky. the sun moves about 1-degree per day, hence why each sun sign "season" is a month long. astrologers divide these 30 degrees into 10-degree (in sun terms, 10 days) slivers called decans. there are different ancient systems of assigning planetary rulers to these decans, but the most popular, chaldean, has uses in tarot

1st decan (mostly july), ruled by saturn: willy, niccolo, sasha, dina fritz, zeke, reiner

2nd decan, approx. aug. 2-11, ruled by jupiter: onyankapon, pieck, marcel

3rd decan, approx. aug 12-22, ruled by mars: colt, keith shadis

the decans create basically 36 mini-signs, which neatly corresponds to the minor arcana of tarot without the court cards. for leo, we're in the fire suit of wands that is the most MARtial:

1st decan = ♄ = 5 of wands

2nd decan = ♃ = 6 of wands

3rd decan = ♂ = 7 of wands

the pamela colman smith cards:

the five of wands shows a kind of pointless fight. night of the end vibes. aggression for aggression's sake, prolonging a conflict because well! we're in it. i like seeing niccolo and reiner here as soldiers who came to paradis and were challenged and changed, much like the joining the cadets did for sasha and her libertarianism. but also, doesn't it look like stage combat like from stupid willy tybur's fuckass play?

the six of wands is so painfully what all the warriors, or soldiers in general, are taught to aspire to: surviving war, returning home, and earning recognition. it's a card for honorary marleyans, but the trio of characters whose birthdays are here is kinda sad: marcel never made it home; ony's home country is presumably rumbled; pieck only cares about her dad, not any wider renown or the myth of eldian atonement

the seven of wands is so... so... colt and shadis. oh my fucking god. i'm kinda ill looking at it ngl. they both could have saved themselves, if colt literally just ran for cover from falco's transformation, if shadis jumped ship like magath told him to, but they go down fighting, to protect other people. kids! shadis still looks at the 104th as his students. jesus christ

further things about leo in AoT:

of my chosen major characters the only paradisians are sasha and shadis

three sets of warrior + parent: dina fritz and zeke, reiner and sperm contributor, and pieck and her dad. we can throw in colt grice and his uncle

zeke, marcel, and colt. two brothers GOAT chapter episode

i've said this elsewhere but i'm quite sure the return to shiganshina arc happens in the fall, zeke, reiner, and pieck all had birthdays back to back on that docked marleyan warship, i assume. do they actually celebrate? doubt it

and not to be dark on your last point: virgo is a maiden, the mutable earth sign. i think it's genesis 7 where a million different translations say the abrahamic god made adam out of dust, clay, soil, etc. if there is a creator god, it's founder ymir.

[chronotopes]

WHY do no virginia colleges have nonfiction mfa programs except for the one i don't really like the nonfiction faculty at. it's not fucking fair.

(warning so much whining occurs in the tags)

[wilwheaton]

DNC speakers painted a clear picture of Trump, his history as president, and his frightening agenda if he wins a second term. But fact-checkers clouded that image to Trump’s benefit. For example, the Washington Post’s Glenn Kessler challenged Hillary Clinton’s statement that Kamala Harris “won’t be sending love letters to dictators.” Trump himself said in 2018 about North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un: “We fell in love, okay? No, really, he wrote me beautiful letters, and they’re great letters. We fell in love.” Still, Kessler insists the truth of Clinton’s statement about love letters “is in the eye of the beholder.” Clinton’s actual point is that Trump openly admires and cozies up to dictators and autocrats — not a great trait for the leader of the free world. Kessler insists “there is no evidence” Trump personally sent love letters to Kim Jong Un, and while that’s true — he might have just received them and responded by praising Kim publicly — it’s beside the point. Whether Trump literally writes steamy notes to dictators isn’t relevant. The issue is that Trump’s a wannabe despot.

What's wrong with the fact-checkers?

This is why I argue that the Harris campaign has no reason to prioritize talking to a corporate press. These lazy writers who should give back their journalism degrees and the feckless editors they answer to absolutely know better, yet they continue to take Trump at his word while nitpicking every single thing that a Democrat says. It’s Calvinball.

Everyone under 50 knows that corporate media is a waste of time if you want to know the truth, and that’s a real shame because a functioning Democracy demands a strong, independent, fiercely aggressive and publicly accountable press that follows the truth, wherever it leads.

I hope that the current generation of independent journalists (the real ones, like Jessica Yellin, not the Incelfluencers who spew right wing talking points) continues to expose corporate news media as the unreliable propaganda it too often is.

When I hear folks at the Times, the Post, CNN and other corporate outlets complain about how they don’t get any respect from a campaign that is getting its message out without their misleading spin and editorializing, I love it for them, and wonder if they’ll look in the mirror long enough to actually do something to earn back the respect they seem utterly baffled they have lost.

[redgoldsparks]

Transcript below the cut.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Panel 1: For the second year in a row, Gender Queer was the most challenged book in the US, reported the American Library Association.

Panel 2: It’s been a weird two years. Number of unique titles challenged in the US by year. 2000: 378 titles. 2005: 259 titles. 2010: 262 titles. 2015: 190 titles. 2020: 223 titles. 2021: 1858 titles. 2022: 2571 titles.

Panel 3: It’s been a hard two years. The ACLU is tracking 469 anti-LGBTQ bills in the US.

Panel 4: Usually I prefer to wait until something is over before I write about it, so I have time to reflect. But this experience has not ended.

Panel 5: It has only gotten louder. (A series of screen shoots of news headlines about Gender Queer, book challenges and an obscenity lawsuit against the book being dismissed in the state of Virginia).

Panel 6: I’m constantly wondering, “When should I speak and when should I let the book speak for itself?”

Panel 7: I remember when I realized that the previous most challenged book spent five years in the top five.

2020- Melissa by Alex Gino at #1 2019- Melissa by Alex Gino at #1 2018- Melissa by Alex Gino at #1 2017- Melissa by Alex Gino at #5 2016- Melissa by Alex Gino at #3

Panel 8: Oh, I think I can take my time figuring out how to respond. I think I’m in this for the long haul...

Panel 9: Ways to support libraries and challenged authors: Check out and read challenged books. Vote for and attend library board and school board meetings. Report censorship to the ALA and PEN America. Vote to fund libraries. Speak up against legislation limiting the teaching of queer history, sex ed, abortion and the history of racism in the US.

Panel 10: Most challenged books of 2022:

1. Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe

2. All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M Johnson

3. The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

4. Flamer by Mike Curato

5. (tie) Looking For Alaska by John Green

5. (tie) The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

7. Lawn Boy by Jonathan Evison

8. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

9. Out of Darkness by Ashley Hope Perez

10. (tie) A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J Maas

10. (tie) Crank by Ellen Hopkins

10. (tie) Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

10. (tie) This Book is Gay by Juno Dawson

[linghxr]

Advice I would give my past self about studying Chinese

Recently I've been reflecting on my Chinese learning journey and how far I've come. If I could go back in time, these are 10 things I would tell my past self. A few are specific to Chinese, but most can apply to any language

It will get so much easier to learn new characters. I remember feeling overwhelmed because learning new characters was a painful process. Now when I encounter a new character, I can remember it with relative ease—it’s just a new combination of familiar components.

Don't feel bad about having uneven development in different skills. My listening and reading are significantly stronger than my speaking and writing. It’s super common and nothing to be ashamed of.

The best way to get over being too embarrassed to speak is to experience some embarrassment and realize it’s not a big deal. I used to be so afraid of making mistakes that I would avoid speaking in class. It was only by being forced to speak that I got over it. I'm much better for it!

It’s impossible to learn everything, and time is limited. You have to prioritize. You probably don’t need to know how to say “pawnshop” in Chinese, and trying to jam your head full of 100 words you saw once won’t work. They won’t stick.

It will actually be harder to read pinyin than to read characters at some point. When I helped a friend with a script for her Chinese class, I really struggled because she had written it entirely in pinyin. I had to write out the characters to read without stumbling! I know characters are daunting for beginners, but trust me, you will get used to them.

If you haven’t practiced or learned something, of course you won’t be good at it. I remember feeling so frustrated trying to navigate Chinese websites for the first time. In retrospect, obviously, I was going to struggle with something completely new to me!

If something isn’t sticking, move on. Why waste time on a word that’s not clicking when you could be learning five new ones? It will only result in unnecessary frustration. So unless you need to know it for your class or a proficiency test, drop it and move on.

Don’t beat yourself up when you have trouble understanding music, literature, different accents, etc. These can be challenging even in your native language. Of course you’re going to struggle more in a new language.

It's worth it to pay attention to things like stroke order and tones from the start so you don't form bad habits. Don’t stress about get it perfect, but it’s easier to do it right the first time than to have to correct your bad habits in the future.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all that you don’t know, learn how to express yourself with what you do know. It’s truly its own skill that requires practice. After all, in life you can’t always stop and pull out a dictionary.

I started learning Chinese a really long time ago, but I became more serious about it in 2018, so 5 1/2 years ago. I'm very proud of how far I've come, but I still have a long way to go! I look forward to revisiting this post in another couple of years 😊

[1dficfests]

No Deadlines:

🗓 Larried In Vegas Fic & Art Fest @larriedinvegasficfest (ao3)

🗓 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names @1000feelingsfics (ao3)

🗓 1D Dick Prints & Grey Sweatpants Fest @1dgreysweatpants (ao3)

🗓 Harry Is Louis’ Baby Fic Fest @harryislouisbabyficfest (ao3)

🗓1D Handkerchief Fest @1dhankyfest​ (ao3)

Coming Soon:

🔔

Prompt Submissions:

💡

No Sign-Ups Necessary:

⏳Wanksgiving Fest @wanksgivingfest (due: 27th November)

Sign-Ups:

⌛1D I Do Fest @1didofest (stay open, due: 28th September)

⌛️1D Angst Fest @1dangstfest (until: 30th September)

⌛️1D Film Fest @1dfilmfest (until: 1st October)

⌛Louis Rare Pair Fest @louisrarepairfest (stay open, due: 4th October)

⌛Zouis Fest @zouisfics (stay open, until: 7th October)

⌛Larry After Dark Fic Fest @larryafterdarkfest (stay open, due: 11th October)

⌛️1D Soulmate Fic Fest @1dsoulmatefest (until: 1st November)

⌛️Girl Direction Fest @girldirectionfest (stay open, due: 15th November)

⌛️Qui Pro Quo Fic Fest @quiproquoficfest (stay open, due: January 2025)

⌛Zayn's Albums Fic Fest @zaynsalbumsficfest (stay open, due: 12th January)

⌛️Bottom Harry Fic Fest @bottom-harry-ficfest (stay open, due: 24th January)

⌛️Harry Rare Pair Fest @harryrarepairfest (stay open, due: 9th February)

⌛️1D Family Fic Fest @1dfamilyfest (stay open, due: 15th May)

Writing:  

📝Top Harry Fic Fest @topharryficfest (due: 20th September)

📝Second Time's A Charm Fest @newsecondtimesacharmfest​ (due: 31st October)

📝1D Neglected Tags Fest @1dneglectedtagsfest (due: 15th November)

Fics:

📚Zayn's Album Fic Fest @zaynsalbumsficfest (ao3)

📚1D Rom-Com Fic Fest @romcom1dficfest​ (ao3)

📚1D Soulmate Fest @1dsoulmatefest​ (ao3)

📚Dirty Thirty Fest @dirtythirtyfest (ao3)

📚1D Song Fic Fest @1dsongfest​ (ao3)

📚Girl Direction Femslash Festuary @girldirectionfest (ao3)

📚Second Time's A Charm Fest Collection (ao3)

📚Not Just Smut Fic Fest @notjustsmutficfest (ao3)

📚Omega Harry Fest @omegaharryfest (ao3)

📚One Direction Big Bang @onedirectionbigbang (ao3)

📚1D Dystopian Fest @1ddystopianfest​ (ao3)

📚​Comfort Fic fest @comfortficfest (ao3)

📚Wankfest @wankersday (ao3)

📚1D Omegaverse Fic Fest @1domegaverseficfest (ao3)

📚1D Mpreg Fic Fest @1dmpregficfest (ao3)

📚1D Astro Fic Fest @1dastroficfest (ao3)

📚1D Aro/Ace Fic Fest @1daroaceficfest (ao3)

📚1D Teamwork Fest @1dteamworkfest ​ (ao3)

📚1D Taylor Swift Fic Fest @1dtaylorswiftficfest (ao3)

📚1D Alpha Louis Fest @1dalphalouisfest (ao3)

📚One Direction Folklore Fest @onedirectionfolklorefest (ao3)

📚1D Wordplay Challenge @wordplayfics (Nest, Tight, Carry)

📚1D Watersports Fic Fest @1dwatersportsficfest (ao3)

📚1D Flower Fest @1d-flower-fest (ao3)

📚Bottom Louis Fic Fest @bottomlouisficfest (ao3)

2023 | 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017

Last updated: 16th September 2024

Please let me know if I’m missing something!

[leclsrc]

decent incentives ✴︎ cl16, mv1

genre: this is. Smut, porn W plot, threesome, driver reader

word count: 6.9k

Max can’t even feel his feet on the hardwood floors because you’re on your bed, spread out, wearing one of Charles’ sweaters, two fingers at the apex of your thighs. Or: You’ve been a brat, and only two people know how to mellow you out. title from this

auds here… hi hi hi! scanned my reqs last week, found a max/charles threesome one, and wrote this out in half a day after a friend showed me the challengers trailer (i love tennis and it drove me to write abt a sport that was not, in fact, tennis) also i truly cannot explain the phenomenon behind me finding smut/these kinds of works easier to suss out these days (long form fic i talked abt in the last drabble is not this one fyi) but it’s just ???? like i don’t… i’ve no clue. i hope u enjoy this anyway!!!! love auds :)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... penetrative sex, double penetration, sexual tension, masturbation (f), teasing, praise central, reader is a MASSIVE brat, size kink, dirty talk, i don’t want to say brat taming but kinda kinda

Your first time in Max Verstappen’s hotel room happened after a tiring night of media and press, where you spent hours together smoking to calm yourselves down. You’d almost been caught by a manager, stepping on your sticks as soon as the back door swung open and your names were called out to do another interview. This was with ESPN, if you remember right. There’d been a muddled chaos of journalism in the venue, all the jumbled mess of the same questions. As young as you both are, do you feel intimidated by success?

It didn’t—and still doesn’t—help, you suppose, that both you and Max had stared, tight-lipped and deflated brows, and stated, with finality: no.

The afternoon stretched into an entire night, and by the time the clock ticked nine and everything had formally wrapped up, Max mustered up the courage and a half it took to invite you to his hotel room for a cig and half a Cuervo divided into three shots each. The conversation had progressed as he drove, the continuation of an otherwise unorthodox friendship between a Red Bull and Mercedes driver—a fact you’d both acknowledged but opted to ignore.

Drivers are friends all the time, you figure—you’re close with few drivers—but none of them are Max. You had made the lousy small talk, commented on how different the pre- and post-race processes have become since your entrance in 2018, which, back then, had seemed like forever ago. “It would seem like forever to a world champion,” he’d said, and his voice is all teasing and raspy and scruffed up. You had laughed, a scoffy little noise, and told him to shut up.

He obeyed, for two seconds, then added, “Do you mind if we meet someone there?”

The hotel room was what you might expect a high-level athlete to be bestowed with, wide and huge but not as wide and not as huge as yours a few streets over. There’d been a thing of cologne left uncapped on the table by the door, Adidas shoes on the floor next to Nikes, and then a low table housing a still smoking joint that left the entire living room smelling like grass.

Somehow, Max had managed to turn a neutral, sterile hotel room into a boy’s room. The scent of weed mixed with Tom Ford cologne. The rap music blending into the open balcony’s traffic noise. The socks on the floor, two pairs, both white. It’s a strenuous effort, you’d thought—and you were beginning to think this wasn’t the work of Max alone. “We have a guest,” he’d hollered when he managed to fiddle with the key card properly enough to leave the door alone.

No one had answered, or surfaced from the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom, so you followed Max into the bar area. Bottles of booze in varying states of empty, lemon slices and salt now cold—“Do you not call housekeeping?” You’d asked, amusement concealing curiosity as you accepted a poured-out shot. He said they do—they—and sometimes hotel staff are just a bunch of pricks. He asked more questions. How it felt to win at twenty-one, how it felt to be driving, to be the youngest winner, the first female driver. 

Ask me something I don’t hear fucking journalists say all the time, you’d replied back, half-jokingly. The August air nipped at your cheeks, chilling your warm face. He’d laughed, and explained that he re-asked the questions in case you have a more honest answer to give him. The most honesty you could offer is that you’d grown to hate your reputation because it precedes your skill. It’d been silent for a bit then, just the scent of the unclaimed weed. Then Max went, We have a new friend.

You turned to see who he was talking to. Charles was at the doorway, eyes on you already, raising a hand to say a silent hello. “H…” He trailed off. “Hey.”

He was shirtless, Calvins tight on his legs, his free hand scratching absently at his abs. Behind you, you had faintly picked up on Max introducing you and Charles rolled his eyes before replying, clipped, I know who she is, wiseass. He’d taken the weed and almost left, but you spoke next.

“Want to come sit?”

He paused, turned, and blinked. “I’m alright,” he rejected. “We have a meeting tomorrow, don’t forget.”

Then he was back in the bedroom area, leaving behind him a trail of grassy smoke. He was clearly rugged and fresh from sleep, the delicious sleep athletes have all grown familiar with: post-race, overcome with a terrible exhaustion. You’d only ever exchanged a few words with either of these two, and the fact that you were alone with them sent a warm, drawling thrill up your spine.

You were two and a half shots in when Charles reappeared, sans weed. “Any left for me?”

—

If you grouped the grid into years, you would be with Max and Charles—on the younger end, still at the ripe years of your careers. You entered first, though, then Max, thenCharles, which meant you were connected to, and friends with, relatively different people on the paddock. But the 2020 season and your many close calls with Max began the media and manager tirade of constantly lumping you and Max into the same interviews, press conferences, and media days, to maybe somehow elicit a bit of drama out (a tireless and unrelenting effort).

That’s how the rumors started. The rumor that permeates you most is one that asks about you, Max, and Charles. Some say you dated one then the other (a homie hopper, they’d branded you in 2021), others say they dated each other and you butted in. All of them were woefully untrue, in the same way all had some ring of truth to them.

And you suppose that’s what hotwired the beginning of your nights spent at Max’s hotel room, where Charles would nearly always be camped out, then eventually vice versa (Charles’ room, Max camping out; your room, solo, housing them for one night), drinking and/or smoking and/or playing some form of cards. And you suppose again that it was all this that radiated into everything else, all your wins and successes and bad days and near crashes, that just caused the entire universe to topple over, into itself, and creep up onto the three of you in Bahrain that year.

But that year is three years ago, and if you try to detail every last divot of it, you’re going to wind up rubbing a migraine out of your head. And you’re not interested in developing a headache—not when you’re celebrating the fifth race of the 2023 season.

It’s your fourth win this season. It’s all anybody ever talks about, how you had gone and secured a third championship for yourself last year, and how you’re gunning for four, the greatest the sport has seen in years. It’s all anyone can repeat and echo—you’re a fucking legend!—and you know from experience that praise does more than the most dangerous cocktail of drugs to get you high.

The afterparty is full and obnoxiously loud, dark and smoky and low-visibility. You’re wearing a flimsy dress and running a hand through your hair while you nurse a drink, feeling drunk on compliments and confused with certain absences. You can feel the bass through the tiled floor, heels clicking on it as you search, search, and come up short. Neither Max nor Charles have sent you a text, a play they always perform to break a routine you’ve become familiar with. You frown. Hey, somebody says next to you, you’re better than anyone else on the grid right now! You thank them, thinking to yourself—where the fuck is anyone else on the grid anyway? The relevant people, at least?

Half an hour later, you’ve ditched the party and are pounding with your fists at Max’s hotel room door in an effort to get them to open it quicker, after your knuckles didn’t seem to do the work well enough. You half—no, mostly—expect Charles to be the one who pulls it open. He’s more prudent. He gives in easier. He’s nicer and he can spare a thought for the other people on this floor (but the price of this room means there barely are). 

“What.” His voice is gritty.

“You told me you would come tonight.” Your voice is steady—you’d chosen not to drink much, and what little you consumed wore off on the ride here. Even with your heels on and even in sleepiness, you notice his presence towers over yours. “You both said.”

“We were tired.”

You scoff and gently push past him into the room, where evidence of their existence rags the furniture. “Every hotel room you ever stay in is turned into a fucking frat house.” Beer bottles, cigs, gifts from fans stored with precarious care but peeking out from suitcases. 

“We were sleeping. I am sleepy,” he says behind you, unamused by your sudden appearance. He shuts the door and stands still, looking as disappointed as he can. It’s unlike him. You’re buying time to find out what the problem is.

“Okay, I’ll go,” you say, relenting, running a few fingers over the mess of clothes strewn atop the armrest of the couch. “My driver’s downstairs, anyway. I wanted you there tonight, though.” You look up, meet his eyes. Tired and green and fed up. “Both of you. We could’ve celebrated.”

He pulls his lips tight and stands straighter. “I know, I know.” He softens a little. “I’m sorry, okay? Desolé. Just… tired.” You know he’s tired because his team is shit, and you know it has nothing to do with you, but you’re so wrapped up with everything that your irritance fails to quell.

“Where’s Max?” You ask roughly instead, thumbing at the strap of your minidress. He gestures to the bedroom. You’re quiet but stormy when you walk in, finding him, messy hair and tired eyes notwithstanding, fully awake, unlike what his roomie has been telling you since you arrived; you scoff out loud again. Des-fucking-picable. You sit yourself on the couch, crossing your legs petulantly.

They both stare. They’re mad, it occurs to you, which is weird because they had you in between them on that same bed less than forty-eight hours ago. You’d come thrice and begged for more, but they laughed and said you all needed sleep to get up for race prep. Race prep. Race prep.

“Okay, then.” You throw two hands up in a semi-shrug. “Let’s have it. What’s the matter? No use lying.”

They both look irritated. “Nothing,” Max says.

“Fuck nothing.” You trail a hand over the hem of your dress. “You’re pissed with me, but I didn’t do shit.” You try to rerack the race, but you hadn’t so much as collided with them in the slightest, apart from overtaking them a few times, but they weren’t man children to whine over that. You’d shared the podium with Charles, for Chrissake.

“You’re right. You just went and…” Charles blows a raspberry and makes an explosion gesture, opening his clenched fist. “Shat on us in your post-race interview.”

And there it is.

You huff out a laugh, momentarily losing control over speech, and it’s caught in between itself and a sigh, a breathy noise that makes waves in the quiet room. Okay, you think. I get it. Your eyes flit in-between the two men across you, your shoulders straight and eyebrows raised, posing a challenge. “What, are you jealous?”

They’re silent. And you know silence always means—

Your eyes relax, smug and a little teasing as you elaborate. “Because you know I’m better than both of you?”

—Yes.

Their silence is redeeming and rewarding and permissive and it speaks volumes louder than if they’d actually admitted to it. You stare back at them, eyes narrowed, amused, coy. You’d been joking around in your Sky Sports interview. Sure, you’re a bit of a tease, especially on the high of a win. But they should know that by now.

You know it annoys them more to leave the door wide open as you leave, than to slam it closed.

—

“Will you draw me a tattoo?!”

“I’d love to, but you are going to regret it,” Charles laughs, signing his name off with a heart on the frenzied fan’s outstretched cap. The busy, busy practice day had now worn into night, though nothing seems to be taking his mind off the fact that you’ve been giving him and Max the cold shoulder since last week. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows he and Max were being irrational and pissy—him especially—but now he just finds himself needing to apologize before anything becomes worse.

But his priority is getting to your hotel, which now seems like the journey of his lifetime. His bodyguard is a bulldozer and grips his elbow to traverse them through the sea of people who cheer him on, go Charles have faith in Ferrari and yeah, that’s been getting more and more difficult as the races pass without much good progress. There are flashes all around, noise and laughing and whoops and gifts he tries to receive, but he just—he needs to get to your hotel. Preoccupied, he remembers where he’d seen Max last, just seconds before leaving the paddock for the evening.

You spend a lot of time with a certain pair Ferrari and Mercedes drivers, says the interviewer in Dutch. Charles squints at the subtitles and waits for Max’s reaction.

He’s in the passenger seat, being driven around for a change, and maybe he’s a pessimist and he misses you and Max, or maybe the city he’s in is just. Dreary, so he opts to stare at his phone like every other person. The clip’s been posted by a fan on Twitter, and the caption is something jokey—something about a dream threesome. He can’t help but laugh as he watches. We are close, us three, Max says, nodding. In fact I will be meeting them later.

The media’s always speculated, rumors born out of a few close calls outside clubs where you’re tipsy and giggly and getting into one car. The fans, funny as ever, also make some fun of it—posting pictures of you three captioned with something like polyamory is real or her and the guys she told you not to worry about, but God if any of them knew the real picture, the whole three years of it, all the sex and hickeys and rumors.

He scrolls a bit more. There are a few photos of you leaving the paddock, hand poised atop your face to shield it from the paps. You get loads more of them wherever you are, loads morecompared to anybody else on the grid. You always attract the media, the press. He finds a picture with your face in it, smiling at your result during FP2. Fuck. You’re pretty, hair damp with sweat, lips stretched into a proud grin, suited hand raising a thumbs up.

“Where to?” The driver beside him asks suddenly.

—

“Fairmont,” Max says to his assistant as he pulls out of parking. “I’m hanging up, doei.” He presses the red button and sighs, shutting his eyes and driving the steady, increasingly familiar routes of the city. He’d called you this morning but you didn’t pick up. Last night he’d slept restlessly, which was no different from the nights before, anyway.

He gets to the valet parking of your hotel when purple is just settling into blackness in the sky, the beginnings of a civil discussion at the tip of his tongue as he exits the elevator and finds your room, opening it and finding it unlocked already. Charles must have done the brunt of it, or maybe you’d gotten an assistant of an assistant to pass an extra keycard to him. You always plan around them, thinking ahead. Both on and off track.

Like the hotel rooms he and Charles share or camp out at, your existence is terribly visible. Unlike them, though, it manifests differently.

It smells like your perfume, the pink bottle he’d found you spritzing on once, and everything is neat and tidy and gorgeous. A vase of white peonies on the low table, lipstick on the table by the mirror, even the pack of cigarettes you barely smoke is pretty and unassuming on the sofa. The only thing amiss—a pair of men’s shoes, those ones with stars on them that you bought Charles on a spur-of-the-moment shopping trip. He toes off his own beside them, eyes the alignment, and fixes it lest you scold them for it later.

Anyway. It smells like you. That’s the only thing he cares about right now. It hits him like a tidal wave, after being ignored the whole week and then some. Your perfume, your favorite linen spray—that black and white glass bottle you carry around like a rosary—your favorite lip balm, even. He swears he smells the vanilla, can recall the taste of it from kissing you ditzy.

It’s beginning to rain—it had been drizzling already, en route here—and the noise pelts the windows, an accompaniment to his footsteps down the hall. He’s familiar with the layout of a penthouse suite, but still he tries out the WC door, and then the closet with the ironing board, before finally he figures the bedroom should be at the end of the hall.

He’s reciting it. I’m sorry. Would you stop being a brat? No. No, just say you’re sorry and then he’s standing at the ajar door of your bedroom, pushing it open, and he can’t feel anything. The words have evaporated. So have his warm little sentimental feelings, and so the annoyance he’d come busting in with.

Max can’t even feel his feet on the hardwood floors because you’re on your bed, spread out, wearing one of Charles’ sweaters, two fingers at the apex of your thighs.

He opens his mouth but nothing leaves. His eyes find Charles, standing by the door, propped against the desk, arms crossed and fingers digging into his biceps. Max looks at you again. You have a pretty flush high on your cheeks, a slight sheen of sweat on your exposed collar. He blinks and realizes you’ve been talking.

“I said, you can sit the fuck down.” There’s a couch to his left.

He pulls himself together and stays beside Charles. “I’m good here, thanks.”

You eye the two of them. They look like stupid twins in the same way they look like Republican husbands. You roll your eyes and allow it; anyway, you’re not in the mood to order either of them around too much.

Charles has been watching you for a while now, watched you fake moans and exaggerate whines, feigning pleasure over two of your fingers. It’s almost laughable—he’d allowed a smile, in fact, because he knows better. Once, he’d pulled your hair so hard you teared up, nodding, hand at his wrist, whimpering more, harder, do it. Another time, he and Max had gotten you all riled up and edged for half an hour, so riled that all you could mutter out were please and their names when they finally stuffed you full. You’re evidently playing your games again. You love to play around with them. It’s almost—you could almost call it a hobby.

“I’m not going to stop just ‘cause you’re both here.” Your hand moves, two fingers fucking into yourself, pink lace pushed aside. Your cunt is so pretty, they’re both thinking. “Did you think I would?” When silence greets you, you decide to address them directly. “Max. Did you?”

His voice is thin and tight when he responds, “Yeah, actually—so we could suss this out, at least.”

Your laugh is patronizing. “I prefer it this way. And you know what?”

Max stares. Charles has already been told this, several minutes ago when he found you in the exact same position. It’s not any easier for him to hear it again, chaste and sweet out of your lips. You can’t touch me.

See, they would’ve been content without touching you, if they sit and think about it. Max didn’t walk in here thinking he’d even be kissing you, and he knows Charles thinks the same thing. Maybe touch you—innocently, that kind of way. Sure, they’d been pent up, heady with arousal, but that came second to talking things out. But now you’ve told them they can’t touch, and that’s worsened them to their limit. Charles imagines touching you, the same touch he gives when it’s post-race and he gets you alone, to himself, nobody else’s, quick fucks in a dim closet, whispering some dirty shit in your ear and getting you like putty in his hands.

Max thinks of nearly the same thing. Imagines running his hand over your hair, gentle but firm, the same way he does when he knocks at your hotel room after hours and gets you from high-strung and bratty to begging for more. You notice their eyes, darkened; you realize their minds have wandered. So, they watch hopelessly as the smirk spreads prettily across your flushed face, and they remember the events of a week prior, when childishly, they’d acted out, and think, for a second, that maybe they deserve this.

You all know what it’s like to keep them from touching you.

It was both easier and worse then, in 2020 when everything started—when everything was brand new and thrilling and exciting. Easier, because they were satisfied as soon as they got you to come, maybe kiss them both, and they were content with slow exploration. Worse, because you were all insatiable. It felt like none of you could go minutes without some form of touch, during, in-between, after practice, quali, fuck—it was worse, much worse.

As you all grew older and got accustomed to the drivel of racing, you all got better. It didn’t get much easier.

Charles recalls how insatiable he was—and thinks, with amusement almost, that if he was insatiable then, he’s worse now. Now he knows where, how, for how long to touch you to get you wide-eyed and warm in the face even in the most serious of moments. Max, too. He knows how you taste, bend, tease. They love touching you. Just skin to skin. And you’ve gone and put a great big X mark over that.

“So,” Max says, voice flat, the way it is when he’s unamused with a reporter, “we’re in a time out.”

“You can call it that,” you giggle, and it segues into a huffy whimper when you angle your hand just right. “You were acting childish, anyway.”

Charles sighs, long and deep. “We—fuck.” His eyes can’t unglue themselves from your fingers. He knows he could make you feel so much better, fuck real moans out of you until you’re crying. “We were being childish, oui, and it was—we were just tense. I was unhappy with strategy. I could’ve been P2 but they pitted me at the worst time, putain. I took it out on you, and I’m… I was… I was worn out, and you called us childish in your interview.” 

Ever the minx, you only smile. You’d been joking, you clarified that a day later; it was crass, spurred on by team radios of the two of them complaining in the latter half of the race. “It was a joke, Charles.”

“I know, baby, I know.” His lip curls and he breathes steadily, controlling himself. “It was unprompted though. You weren’t even asked about us. And yeah, a joke��but it felt shitty, love. I don’t mind it—we don’t mind it, but—” He needs to think about the phrasing, think about his intentions.

Your eyes are on fire, clearly still angry, but steadily softening.

“But in moderation,” comes Max’s raspy voice. “You’re running your mouth a lot in the media.”

“You’re one to—ah—talk,” you huff back, a futile argument.

“You need to understand that—that when you’re giddy, or angry, you can’t keep turning to interviews to express all that out. You need to sit with it. Just because we’re not…” your boyfriends, Max almost says, “…yours, doesn’t mean you can shit on us then expect us to be okay with it a few hours later. It’s a thing you do. A game you play. And it’s nice, it was nice then, but it’s annoying now, and it’s almost, like, do you even want this to keep going? To work—?”

You recoil. “You seriously think I don’t want th—”

Charles cuts in. “Well, when you play at us like this, yeah. Put in the work. If you’re high off a win, or mad for some other reason, just let it happen. Don’t fucking.” He exhales. “Call us names, then show up at our hotel acting like an angel.”

They’ve always looked out for you like this, known when to scold you or put you in your place for doing too much or not doing enough. They’ve never let personal things cross too much with business, which is a blessing of an ability when you’re three people having regular sex while balancing a ludicrous athletic career. It’s all sussed down to stupid ‘I care for you’ stuff that, frankly, they’re both too horny and angry to get into the grit of right now.

They don’t realize how quiet the room has grown until you eke out a noise, a thoughtful sound of agreement. You’ve pulled your fingers out, both hands playing with a loose thread on the hem of the sweater, rolling it into a ball. Your hair falls in waves. There’s a crease in it from the ponytail you wear when driving.

Your expression is still murderous, but much softer now; you cough, “I—I get what you’re saying. And I know I play… I have these games, or—but, honestly, I could say the same to you both.” You stutter through your totally shit explanation.

“How do you… mean,” deadpans Max. 

“I mean, when I’m acting out, you two just take it.” Having them at your mercy like that is satisfying in its own right, but pragmatically, it’s unhealthy. “You don’t ever tell me off. Even now. I need you to tell me… to fucking,” you’re warm and spluttery now. “Fuck's sake, okay? I know I can be annoying. I know I say stupid shit when I don’t finish and I’m way less diplomatic than Mr. Il Predestinato,” you breathe. “But you two just let me be annoying!”

“Then don’t be annoying,” Charles says, diplomatic as ever—his voice rises, though, nearly matching yours.

“Not like that!” You huff, folding your legs and sitting straighter, and they catch a glimpse of your pink panties again. “When I’m out of line, you”—you point to them—“need to correct me.” They’re nearly blindsided by your request to… be told what to do, which is so different from how sex usually works. From how this whole dynamic usually works.

But Max remembers your manager, and Toto, and your teammate Lewis even, and your engineers, who have all, at one point or another, had to talk you down and tell you to calm down and correct your behavior. So he says, “People do that all the time, but it only works for a second.”

“Because th—” You suck in a lungful of air. “They’re not you two, you daft fuckers!” You’re at the centre of the bed now, sweater drooped over your folded thighs, eyes matching the rain outside. “Every time, I need to be talked down, and you never. Do it. So do it. Fucking—do it. I have to tell you everything.”

“You don’t—-”

“Oh, I do.” You say, folding your arms over your chest. 

“This is despicable,” Max says. “We need to sort this out properly.”

“So what? This isn’t”—you raise violent air quotes—“putting in the work?”

They glance at each other for a minute. They feel you thinking you’re winning, thinking they’ll grovel and say okay we’ll do that next time, can we fuck you? Like all the other semi-resolved fights before. You’re sitting straight, eyebrows raised, defiant. But for them to do that—you just said it wasn’t what you needed. 

And they’d have to be caught dead before not giving you what you need. If you want to be bossed around a bit, then they’ll do it.

“Sit down,” Charles goes. Unmoving. 

“What.” You’re deadpanning, eyes narrowed.

“Sit the fuck down,” he repeats. You open your mouth, but he’s quicker. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You pout, leaning against the headboard and unfolding your legs. He rounds the room, sits at the foot of the bed. It’s a big bed, so even if he’s on it, he still needs to reach over a bit to be able to touch you. The distance is good, though, keeps them in control. Max sits opposite him, both of them on either side of you, and they’re so close, so scrutinizing, so handsome. 

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he says. You take a second, spreading your knees and obeying. You find a way, though, to make their little challenge all your own—you make a show of it, peeking your tongue out and licking your bottom lip all shiny before hollowing your cheeks. You stare at them the whole time and you don’t blink. It’s hotter than it has any right to be. “Suck on them.” You continue doing it, lips slightly curled.

“You’re a brat.” You try to conceal the whimper that leaves you but it fails pathetically. Charles presses on. “A spoiled brat.”

He’s the nicer of the two. Your whole threesome situation had began three years ago, and in almost every tryst since then, he’s been nice. In fact, if any of them were to ever ‘tell you off’ like you so desperately wanted, apparently, it would have definitely been Max. He’s firm, yeah, but he’s sweet. And he’d hate to boss you around too much, even if it’s something he wants. So he thinks, and he pretends he’s back to quali day of last week. It was a slow morning because of weather problems, so everyone was in a mood, and you were absolutely no exception. You come off as quiet to the public and to some of the grid, but to your friends, you’re anything but.

In an effort to lift the mood, you’d been mouthing off the entire day to your close circle of driver friends, in particular retelling the story of how you had teased Charles post-DNF in Saudi, and even gotten Lando to laugh about it at the time. What a season starter, you said when you were recounting it. You left out a detail: that night in Saudi, he’d fucked you and refused to let you cum, soaking your pillow with tears and goading a sobbed apology out of you.

Watching you joke about it again, even if it was a fucking joke and even if it was because you were mad at him and Max—got him all red hot, pissed off. Seething.

“Do you remember last race weekend when you joked about my DNF in Saudi?”

Cheeks hollowed, you nod.

“Fucking brat. That whole day. Ignoring me, ignoring Max. Didn’t listen to our apologies. Just noise all day.”

Your brows knit defiantly.

“I’m serious. You weren’t being funny. Just a brat. And if you were bored or pissed, you could’ve said so instead of making me look stupid.” You nod.

He glimpses at Max; the latter speaks next. “Open yourself up.”

You spread your legs out farther and sneak your spit-slick fingers down, pushing the flimsy material aside to rub at your cunt, two fingers sliding right back in. You breathe out shakily and wait for them to talk again. You’re still fussy, high-strung, not totally calm and mellowed down yet.

“When Charles and I aren’t here to fuck you into behaving, who’s going to make sure you’re acting proper?”

“Carlos,” you grit out in between thrusts.

They seethe. “Again,” Charles says, unamused.

“Nat,” you name your manager. “Lewis, or something. Fuck. Lando? I don’t—”

You asked to be told what to do, but you never said, they suppose, that it would be an easy job. “Guess again.”

“Toto.” You look delighted at that last one, knowing the implication. They’ve always been a bit jealous there. You thrive off disobedience, getting your two favorite boys all angry and flushed red with it. You open your mouth to try smartassing your way out of their orders, but Max beats you to it. “If you guess wrong, you’re not cumming. We’ll fuck you tonight, but no cumming.”

You whimper out loud, sinking your fingers farther in, adding a third.

“Don’t add another. Answer Max,” Charles says.

“Fuck,” you seethe, slipping the third out on your next thrust. “Me. I’m supposed to keep myself in check. When I’m mad. When I’m giddy and fuck—yeah. Me. It’s me.”

“Good girl,” he rasps out. “Good girl. You have to practice. How does it feel?”

I know, you mouth, eyes fluttering. You scissor the two fingers you’re thrusting in and out, wet with slick. “Feels good.”

“Not your fingers, love,” Max says. “How’s it feel hearing what we just told you?”

“Good, better,” you say in-between breaths. “I’ll practice. I like it. You’re not… letting me push you around. You’re—you can punish—fuck. Me.”

“Yeah? How, then?” 

“Fuck me,” you repeat breathlessly. “Both of you.”

“Add another,” Charles orders, and you nod, quick and pliant, fucking yourself open. They’re both so hard, cocks heavy and uncomfortable in their jeans. You can see the thick shapes of them through the denim, and you thrust harder, a futile attempt to replicate how it feels when they’re fucking you.

“You remember how it feels, having both of us in you?” Max sounds amused.

“Yes,” you moan. Your pathetic imitation of moans and gasps earlier pales in comparison to this, voice dry and thick with pleasure and raw desperation. “Yes, pl—fuck, yes.”

“Why aren’t you feeling it now?” They need to hear you verbalize the reason why, admit it one last time before they give you what you want. You whine, rutting your hips up against your hand, catching your clit on the heel of your palm. 

“Because I was being a brat, and I—you were being childish, but I didn’t want to talk things through either—and I’m always taking out my emotions on you guys, and I’m sorry, okay, would you just fuck me already?”

They’re on you immediately, all words and whispers, fingers at your chin turning you both ways to slot kisses on your mouth. Your free hand palms over Max’s bulge; he’s the one to your right. It’s hard and thick and heavy and you need it, need them. Charles’ hand takes over yours, thrusting deep and you’re whimpering into his sweet mouth.

“Feel my cock?” Max asks, “Could make you feel real nice, baby.”

“I know,” you sigh, breathless. “I want it.”

“When's the last time you took us both?” Charles asks, smile wicked. “Little thing like you.”

You grit out a moan, fuzzy and floating, letting them lift you up to straddle—one of them—you open your eyes and see Charles staring up at you, wonder and green eyes. “Got this, love?” You nod, yeah, I’ve got it, you say, little sighs. Both of you. Now.

This space you’re in, where it’s pleasure and fuzz and nothing else, is comparable to the high of winning. And you know you prefer that to sex, at least now, because racing is your life. It’s the slow satisfaction of being the best on the entire grid, despite everything. It’s the cheers, the raised fists when you climb atop your car and bring the crowd to a crescendo. The even louder screams when you pull your helmet and balaclava off and smile, trophy and all, champagne shiny and glowy on your face. All that shit—it’s addictive, and it feels just like this. So similar, in fact, because when you win, you finish on top of Charles and Max, and—

—Max is behind you, jeans tugged just enough for his cock to be pulled free, slick with lube and prodding at your ass—

—it feels just fucking like this.

“Like Max’s cock filling you up?” His cockhead is breaching your tight entrance and you moan out loud.

“I missed it,” you say, muffled by Charles’ free thumb at your lips, swirling it on your tongue. You flip him off for cutting you off and he laughs. “Give it t’me,” you goad, turning slightly. You want it so bad, missed being fed with their cocks. A week is too long. “I need more of it, all of it. In me, fill me up,” you beg, whimpering, desperate.

Max stares at your ass, grabs at the flesh there, at the string of your thong. You suck him in so hungrily, like you’re challenging him to not thrust in fully; you’re canting your hips backward too, and Max has to hike the too-big sweater up to watch the muscles of your back flex to meet his dick.

“So pretty, princess,” Charles says, because with them you really are a princess. Max begins to thrust into you from behind and you’re getting little moans fucked out of you, watching Charles unbuckle his jeans to tug his cock out, thick and pretty and you want—if you could, you would suck on it, let him fuck your throat, but you’re in the business of being filled to the point of blank thoughts right now.

You feel Charles at your cunt then, your slick making the slide easier, and Charles bucks his hips up and you—this is what you needed, to mellow you down, get you all loose and ready for more. “Take it, baby,” Max says, “all of it, all of us.”

“Ah,” you gasp out. “Ah.”

“Come on,” he grits, voice hardening. “You’re ruined. Pretty little girl. Come on.”

“Maxie,” you call out weakly, your fond little nickname for him. You remember Charles whining about how he doesn’t have one, so you save baby for him, had sussed that out on a night where they took turns fucking you. Your hips torn between the two dicks stuffing you, face sweaty and the sweater doesn’t help, gets you hotter; Charles gets the hint, and with effort, pulls it off you. Your skin is shiny underneath, matching bra sticking to your sweaty, sheened out skin.

“Love it,” you say, voice strained. “Split—fuck—me open.” Your holes clench around them and Jesus, they could have you all flushed and pretty and spread out like them, like this, forever. Charles grabs at the flesh of your ass, slaps you once and you’re tightening around them, breath impossibly still, thighs shaking. Max’s hands hold your hips tight, hungrily traveling up, groping at the wire of your bra to press at your tits. You’re pressed against both of them at a delicious angle that gets you dizzy.

“I’m gonna cum, I,” you breathe out, moaning, “I haven’t touched myself since…”

They both moan at that, delirious. Fuck. The thought of you holding it—for them—fuck. 

“You’re so perfect, so—fuck—slutty,” Charles says, and you can’t hide the moan fast enough. “Feels good, having us in you, yeah? Getting you all noisy and… fucking—shit. I know how much you needed this, love. I know how much you love it. Us.”

From behind, Max snakes a hand up your abdomen, the column of your throat, and wraps there. You see white from the sensation of it alone.

“Tell me—I can’t—please, I—Charles—Maxie—” You’re increasingly incoherent, slick running down your thighs, twitching vigorously. You try to comprehend everything but you’re losing coherence and they get it, they get it, wiping your tears and sweat and coercing you to cum, yeah, pretty little pussy so fucking wet for us, cum hard, come on, you’ve been so good, baby, the best girl for us.

There’s no way either of them are lasting after that, after watching you fall apart and finish on top of them, stuffed full, stuffed pliant, stuffed fucking docile.

It’s your turn, then, to praise, your favorite boys, always so good for me, thank you for letting me cum, come on, let me taste it—and you’re stained with their release after a few minutes, Max biting on your shoulder, Charles’ thumb indenting your hip.

—

What. A. Podium, ladies and gentlemen! Max Verstappen of Red Bull, from P6 in the last race to a stunning P3 drive—Charles Leclerc, braving the team’s dismal strategy to get P2! What a knockout. Of course the Mercedes legend, gunning for four championships now, had crossed the flag first to claim her fifth P1 of the season.

What a legendary race, absolutely proper podium. They showed us what driving is, real driving.

The season is heating up. 

Makes you wonder what happened over the weekend for them to get such good results.

This is F1. I’m sure they keep each other motivated.

[icepoptroll]

@june-doe-2024 day 30: Disability Pride Month

***From my Everyone Lives AU wherein an alternate Karnak is the kids' nurse following the Cyclone accident***

In which the kids all come back to life and Ricky finally gets to say his piece. I felt my AU was a good vehicle for this and will probably incorporate this into the fic later down the road.

Wooooooooo!!! My last June Doe for this year! I had the time of my life doing this event. Usually when I do month long art challenges like these I fizzle out by the end of the month and either don't finish or by my last few pieces I'm just not feeling it anymore but this time I think I really finished strong with my last few days. Or, well, comics have never exactly been my STRONG suit but I felt like this conversation deserved one. This is a conversation that we never really got to see in canon. Had I had more time, I probably would have made it even longer.

I always felt like Ricky sort of avoids confronting Ocean on the things she was wrong about, for a lot of reasons. For one, he'd rather occupy his time with things he sees as productive and fulfilling, and he was just never sure he'd get anywhere trying to explain these things to her. For another, he's very observant and he's seen lots of other people's conflicts with her devolve into a debate which she's always trying her damnedest to win. But while he knows who he is and he never felt the need to prove himself to her, deep down it does bother him that this issue never got addressed, and Penny can see it. Something I noticed (at least, in the 2016 version wherein Ricky still has enough lines lol) is that Ricky doesn't really care what Ocean thinks of HIM, but where he DOES feel the need to correct her is her views on the whole of HUMANITY. I think after the accident, getting a lot of time to reflect, he would come to realize that her misconceptions about disability not only affect the way she sees him, but the way she sees disabled people in general. I also did reference the 2018 version here: in that run, Ocean had a line speculating that Ricky had "two? three years?" left to live, insinuating that that's why he shouldn't be the one to come back.

Yes, I definitely could see Penny separately luring the two of them and then trapping them in a room with her to put this to rest, lol. It's the kind of tough love she'd be bold enough to provide. She definitely thinks he deserved a chance to speak his mind and that Ocean owes him an apology.

Mostly. . . Ricky just wants Ocean to love her fellow human. I can't wait to write more of my AU because Ocean's really going to shift her focuses after surviving the crash and I feel like writing all the changes in her thinking and beliefs will be interesting.

Big thanks to @victoriawaterfield for hosting the June Doe event. I had a wonderful time and it worked wonders for my art!!

[featguler]

hii your fics are written so well it’s captivating and beautiful!!

can u write sumn abt attempting to find out if the reader is single or available w kylian :)

heard the risk is drownin' ────── kylian is charging straight in.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified, but they are described to be smaller than kylian. set in the cannes film festival; reader is a film scholar/film critic and is teaching at a university. reader doesnt have an insta sorry i gotta make this easy for me. kylian is down baaaaad he's also kind of assholeish here but he's also hot so idc. NOT PROOFREAD!! ♡ ────── wordcount : 1,277 ♡ ────── notes : this is such a cute request!! i love him so much, thank you for requesting this 🥺 disclaimer ive never been to cannes but i wish i have. this is a good luck one-shot for france tonight!! title based on risk by gracie abrams ♡ masterlist.

Kylian wants you.

It’s clear to see ever since a friend invited him to her private, directorial debut screening. Filled with pretentious film commentators, Kylian almost questioned his sanity in accepting this seemingly random invitation from a friend he knew from Catholic school over ten years ago.

Almost.

Almost, because you were the lighthouse that helped him navigate the mist that night. During dinner, you seemed oblivious to his superstar status, and initiate the conversation you shared with a fun and lighthearted question about his favorite movie.

“I didn’t know,” you laughed to yourself when he told you he was the Mbappè from 2018’s FIFA World Cup, “Sorry. I guess not everything revolves around films.”

Contrary to others in the revel, you were able to communicate in a way he understands—you didn’t sigh when revealed that he had never seen (heard of, even) a film you mentioned, and you were able to eloquently steer the course of your conversation in a way that is both enjoyable but also challenging for him.

Paired with the way your eyes twinkle under the dim lighting, just like that, he was in love.

And he wants you.

It’s simple for everyone that knows him to see. He repeats your name under his breath—the only thing he learned that night—and shakes his head when he recalls that he cannot find you anywhere.

He wants you. He wants you bad.

He thinks you’re cheeky. When he searches your name up on Google, all that came up were the papers you had written to contribute to multiple visual culture journals and books, or an article of a film you wrote published by a third party website from six months ago. No Instagram account, no Facebook account, no nothing.

Kylian tries asking his agent at least 50,000 times, but it’s not like his agent, or any sports agent for that matter, would have the connection to set him up with someone like you.

And he would ask fucking Clémentine, but she gatekeeps information about you like she is a shepherd clinging on her last dozen sheeps, leaving his messages on read and calls unanswered. Being Kylian Mbappè does not help him at all. Even being her friend does not help him at all.

He guesses that he could send you an email, but what’s attractive about that? He’s desperate, but not desperate in the sense that he would write an email on his iPad and send it to you like some kind of student hoping for a raise in grades. He’s a damn footballer. What he wants to do is take you out on a nice dinner before bringing you back to his house, not ask you to collaborate on an academic paper about film semiotics—or whatever these papers talk about.

And that leads us to today. Let's set the scene. 

The time: the first Saturday of the Cannes Film Festival 2024, first screening of the day; the place: the Cannes Film Festival, Cannes, France; and the characters: Kylian Mbappè Lottin, fucking Clémentine, and you.

Well, he doesn’t know where the fuck Clémentine is, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck where Clémentine is.

Somehow, he ended up finding a spot to sit to your right, and instead of taking in the highly anticipated work of a certain Greek director, Kylian leaned to place his cheek on a closed fist supported by his elbow against the arm rest, occasionally glancing to his left in hopes to get a glimpse of your eyes against the bright screen, testing in every crinkle on your face when a certain scene was shot in a way that amused you.

When will another one of such invaluable opportunities rise?

“So,” As soon as the standing ovation dies down and the theatre lights are turned back on, Kylian turns to you, starting a conversation. “What did you think?”

“Wonderful,” still dazzled, the smile remains etched on your lips. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, I swear.”

“Oh, wow.” he laughs, placing a palm against his mouth for a moment. “And I’m here thinking that you’ve seen more films than the average person.”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod, immediately catching up to his playful tone, “I’ve seen at least five movies.”

Quiet laughter is shared between the two of you, and Kylian feels a familiar, comfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. “So that makes this the sixth movie that you’ve watched?”

“In my entire lifetime, yes,” you giggle.

Kylian bites his lips before rubbing the side of his neck, for a short moment which he hopes you don’t notice the anxiety brewing within him. “Well, this is my first film, actually. So I was really excited to watch it.”

“Five more to go,” you notice everyone else beginning to stand up, patiently waiting for their turn to escape from their row and exit the theatre. “Then maybe you’ll have half the experience I do.”

The tone of your reply draws out another laugh from him.

Damn.

All he does is laugh when you are around. You must be the funniest person he’s ever met.

“So,” Kylian clears his throat when you stand, following your suit. “What’s your plan after this?”

“Clémentine and I are thinking of sharing a pizza down the street for lunch before returning for the 2 PM showing,” you shake the watch around your wrist before looking back at him with a dazzling smile. “What about you?”

“Clémentine?” Kylian muses, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”

“What’s with that face?” You begin walking behind the person before you, still somewhat facing him. “I’m sure. You must be busy.”

“Eh, it’s all just show. I got nothing to do most of the times,” he raises his shoulders with a grin. “Well, what’s after the 2 PM screening?”

“I’ve got papers to grade,” you sigh, feeling a slight chill when the summer breeze brushes over your skin the moment you both step outside the studio. You squint your eyes at the sun, turning to him. “Wish I could stay around longer, but I’ve got responsibilities.”

Kylian tilts his head, still smiling at you. “Yeah? I was actually thinking that I can take you out for dinner tonight.”

You blink, and turns your body so that you were fully facing him—only then do you realize how big he looks: his broad shoulders, the shape of his chest pressed under his thin shirt.

“Oh,” you stammer, taking a step back once you noticed how close you two are standing to each other. “I– uh, you know—”

“Responsibilities?” He asks with a light chuckle. “That’s fine. Another night?”

Kylian watches your pupils dilate, shifting to every single thing around you except for him, avoiding eye contact at all cost. “That’s very kind of you, it’s just—”

Then, it clicked on him.

“Oh,” he says with a furrow of his eyebrows, lips pressing into a frown. “Boyfriend?”

You clear your throat, and the nod you give him is timid, but it is a nod.

Kylian takes a deep breath, burying both his hands in his pockets, for a moment staring off into the distance, before turning back to you with a gentle smile.

“Then,” he closes the gap to you with a step, looking around for a moment, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “When you break up with him, let me know. I’d love to take you out for dinner.”

And casually, he straightens his back.

“I’ll see you around,” he laughs softly with a wink, raising his hand to wave at you as he walks away.

[writingdotcoffee]

The "Alt" NaNoWriMo Challenge

I'm a big fan of NaNoWriMo and the energy the event breathes into the writing community. Hundreds of thousands of people start working on their novels at the same time. Lots of people share their progress and cheer each other on. Several now-famous authors have started their best-selling novels during NaNo over the years.

That said, it's not for everyone. Writing 50,000 words per month is a serious commitment. Doing it alongside school or work is no joke. In fact, most people who sign up don't finish. According to these stats, only 1-2 out of every 10 participants complete the challenge.

I've never joined NaNoWriMo myself. I'm a slow writer, and I know that I would burn out. Instead, I set a different writing-related challenge for myself every November.

In 2018, I started reading one short story every day. It turned into a regular habit, and I ended up reading hundreds of short stories over the following few months.

Last year, I wanted to build a 30-day writing streak. In the end, I wrote for 232 days in a row. 2023 became the most productive year of my writing life by far with over 250,000 words written.

This year, I will be doing something similar, and I want to invite you to come along for the ride.

The Idea of "AltNaNo"

The idea of finishing a novel in a month seems outrageous to most people. That's what makes it so compelling. It's like standing at the foot of a snowcapped mountain with a rope and a couple of ice picks. The challenge itself is inspiring.

The AltNaNo challenge is the exact opposite. The goal is as small as possible on purpose. The focus isn't to achieve this massive feat but to squash all excuses and merely start writing.

You may not be able to write 50,000 words in a month. But almost everyone can find 15 minutes to write every day.

The Challenge

The goal is simple: Write for at least 15 minutes every day in November.

Writing 100 words and calling it a day after 15 minutes is a success.

Spending longer and writing 500 words is a success.

Wrestling with a difficult scene for 15 minutes and writing only a single sentence is a success.

Spending 15 minutes trying to write after a long day and not producing a single word is a success, too.

Be a tortoise. We all know how the story goes.

How to Join

I've set up daily challenges for the first week in Writing Analytics, if you wanted to join us there:

Day 1/30 ✅

Day 2/30 ✅

Day 3/30 ✅

Day 4/30 ✅

Day 5/30 ✅

Day 6/30 ✅

Day 7/30 ✅

I'll be posting daily updates on the blog as well.

PS: If you'd like to learn more about developing a writing habit, check out this free course I launched a few weeks ago.

[a-collection-of-cool-ideas]

Thank you wonderful fanfiction authors! You do a great part to make life wonderful. Recs below the cut (I CANNOT believe I haven't rec'ed some of these before!) Previous recs: 2018, 2020, 2022. Looks like I only do these every two years lol.

Gravity Falls

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; complete multichapter. A heartbreaking concept with a happy ending. Sad but wonderful and a really fun idea. Working out just what is happening is a great challenge, and watching the pieces fall into place with mounting consternation is awesome.

In Search of Antidotes, by @astriiformes / azhdarchidaen; complete multichapter. An awesome Historical AU, and neither Ford nor Stan go through the portal (there’s still suffering though). Bit of freakiness, bit of funniness, bit of stubbornness, bit of coolness. A very cool read! A much more classic demon-possession story than canon with its modern sci-fi overtones. The gothic sci-fi horror takes the floor here. Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein, Dracula, it takes inspiration from all the best roots!

Just a Game, by @nikxation / nikxation; one-shot. Intense! High stakes! Well-written! Doesn’t mess around getting to the point, and hammers its beats into you! LOVE it! Bill holds a gun on Ford, while in Ford's own body. The tension in this is unbelievable!

An Outreached Hand, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete multichapter. Something freakishly supernatural happened to Stan during his homeless days. It’s called Ghost Trick AU, and it’s super interesting and utterly engaging! It’ll have you tearing through it wanting to know what the heck is going on! The characters are all so intense in their own ways, and the plot is drip fed to you piece by delicious piece.

Snapshots from an Alternate Reality, by Rethira; one-shot. PORTAL STAN!! Just a short little one-shot about this alternate version of events, but incredibly cool to read. Love the writing style: it takes you through the scenes like a skipping stone, its wake mesmerising.

All Things Go, by @cantica10 / Cantica10; incomplete multichapter. A weird (in the best way) idea of a crossover between Timestuck AU (where Mabel is trapped in the past) and a Wings AU (where, you guessed it, everyone has wings). Adorable Stan and Mabel bonding, but is SO not afraid to get really dark. That being said, it’s also so sweet and fluffy, and explores the effortless love that Mabel feels for Stan, and that (broken, scared, young, sad) Stan feels for her. This is one of those fics I am compelled to keep coming back to. It’s such a full experience to read.

Snow and Pine, by @ancientstone / TheArchaeologist; incomplete series. A great concept!! Loved the idea of these two brothers being forced together by circumstances instead of intention. Some great selective description here, and the plot itself is a very fun ride. WERE. WOLF. STAN. Need I say more?

Lighthouse Keeper, by @impishnature / impish_nature; incomplete series. There’s a lot to this story; the main work is mostly a series of one-shots, with other works sprinkled between. The idea is so eerie and haunting, and the vibes are pretty different to most other things I’ve read. The instigating artwork by @sightkeeper is magnificent and Imp has managed to capture the images very well!

Triptych, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; one-shot. A very cool character study on Stan. Great for informing his central motivations. It's kept short and sweet, but the analysis is no less thorough for it. I loved the insight into my favourite character's life and mind. Scribe writes him so well.

Blind Faith, by pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. Come on, how could I NOT mention this one? It's one of the many here I'm astonished not to have rec'ed earlier. Super dark, super scary, an AU where both Stan and Ford fall into the portal. Ouch, but cool. Really good, but be prepared to yell out loud in horror. This is a doozy, don’t expect a lot of happy feels going into it. That being said, it is INCREDIBLE. The structure of the story is fantastic, perfectly encapsulating the reliance each of the brothers’ needs to have on the other and how one has to step up when the other can’t. Stan and Ford are forcibly tied together in this, and they find they each mean more to the other than expected after ten years of bitterness and radio silence. A STAPLE of Gravity Falls fics.

Like They Were a Perfect Fit, by @sensitiveowl / hapful; one-shot. Aw, ow, cries. Love! Lots of tangled-up emotions and scenes that will tug at your heartstrings thinking about Ford’s life journey. Speculations on the importance of the photo that Ford is implied to have carried around with him for 30 damn years.

30 Seconds Later, by @invisibletinkerer / shayera; incomplete multichapter. Loved this to death! A really great concept executed fantastically. An AU where while it took Stan thirty years to rebuild the portal, Ford was only gone for thirty seconds. The characterisation of paranoid Ford and his interactions with the rest of his family are perfect, as is his reaction to finding himself in the future and his relationship to Stan. And Stan is wonderful in this too! A very good examination of age, aging, and the associated changes in perspective.

1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back, by @infriga / Ppleater; complete multichapter. An AU where Stan is turned into a kid in the midst of Ford’s pre-portal paranoia over Bill. It adopts the wonder and innocence that comes with youth, but still retains the darkness of Stan’s adulthood - wait, actually, his entire life has been kinda dark in this fic. This is one of those fics you can tell the author had a lot of fun with. It’s palpable in the chapter titles and the art :) The illustrations are beautiful, the story is heartfelt, and it is not at all afraid to go into some dark places. A very enjoyable, loveable, read!

The Road in Front of You, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; complete multichapter. Ford falls through a portal potty and gets dumped in Stan's path. MAN!!! This fic has a really great concept, and Nicnac’s writing is impeccable as always. A great look at Ford and Stan’s relationship post-high school, how their personalities have developed and changed, and most importantly how they reconcile the changes in each other.

Nothing a Little Sleep Can’t Fix, by AkitaFallow; one-shot. Oh MAN. WOW. Okay. A heavier look on the mark Sock Opera leaves on Dipper, featuring repercussions throughout the rest of Dipper’s summer. Absolutely, heartbreakingly, entrancing. The slow build up of the plot perfectly mimics the rising emotions that poor Dipper is struggling to keep a lid on until they inevitably explode, and watching the people who love him pick up his pieces afterwards is just golden.

Ad Infinitum, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; one-shot. My first read of the Same Coin Theory and it was awesooooooooome!!! There are so many repetitions of phrases that spark in my mind because of how great they were, and the aspects of Stan contrasted with Bill that thread through it are incredible. Kind of an unsettling concept. I couldn’t get enough. For a fic that’s all about cycling around, you'd think it'd get repetitive, but every paragraph is rich with novelty. A FEAST.

Some Sunny Day, by @anistarrose / anistarrose; complete multichapter. Another Same Coin Theory fic. The beats of the plot in this are stunning, with some truly awesome lines that left me reeling and thinking Oh SHIT that did NOT just happen!!! In the best way possible. A highly interesting story and some excellent takes on the Pines family and the world of Gravity Falls.

Towards the Sun, by @notthistimespock and pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Incredible! Love the in-depth examination and speculation on Ford and Stan prefinale. A different ending for Weirdmageddon, following Ford’s journey through Stan’s mind. It gets sad, it gets scary, it gets freaky, you shed tears. Another one of those staple fics for the fandom. The story is a wild and heartrending adventure, full of imagery that stuck in my brain for years after the first time I read it.

Fisherman’s Knot, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; complete multichapter. MORE EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Deals with postcanon adventures on the Stan’O’War II, including some reeeaaaally bad mental states/situations. Have tissues handy. I think this is generally regarded as the be-all-and-end-all of Stan twin angst. It is long, it is HEAVY, but it is also heartwarming and hopeful, and full of adventure and magic, and the kind of love it's made with really comes through.

Mob Boss Stan Pines, by Capricious_Passions; complete multichapter. A fic that you HAVE to read over again to get the complete picture. Complex and well-thought out, incredible attention to detail, but the first read will baffle you! A lot of fun trying to figure out what’s happening, and even more fun on the re-read picking up all the details you missed the first time!

Scrapbook, by Shyeye; complete multichapter. The complicated weight of grief hangs heavy over everyone in the story, and the difficulties in dealing with it are at the forefront of everyone’s minds. The depth each of these characters are written with is very much appreciated, not-so-pretty parts and all. This was a wonderful, touching, read.

Rescind, Reset, by @endae / endae; one-shot. Canon divergence where Mabel temporarily lost her life during Weirdmageddon, and the aftereffects on her and the rest of the family. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read, very emotionally raw. I cry every time. This incredible story is wrought with a filter of broken hearts being pieced back together as the characters live through the aftermath of their happy ending. It’s a shining, nuanced take on Mabel and how someone with her personality deals with the plot premise. I love the complexity of the emotions in this, not only from Mabel but also from the rest of the Pines as they work through their own traumas.

Safe as Houses, by @beastenraged / Beastrage; complete multichapter. If I could whistle I would! An entrancing read about the Pines family’s adventures from the perspective of their home. Some great and not too far-fetched ideas about how the Shack may have come across to its inhabitants over the years.

Greyscale, by @impishnature / impish_nature; one-shot. OH MY LORD. Incredibly touching and heartbreaking, I can’t look at this directly for fear of being emotionally blinded. Loss, and gain, and loss. Striking, powerful, so, so beautiful and painful. The aftermath of Weirdmageddon: another canon divergence where Stan lost his life. Except... Reverse Portal AU Stan stumbles across this sad dimension soon after. I swear, no fic has made me cry so hard and left me so much in shock of what the heck just happened to me. I love the look at how loss has affected the characters, and I especially love the path to recovery that is laid out for them.

Buying Gold, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete series. Veeeery intriguing. It’s not really Same Coin Theory, but it’s a great read about the similarities between Stan and Bill and some cool speculation on Stan post-defeating Bill.

Any Family You Choose, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; incomplete multichapter. So sweet! Portal Dipper finds a young Stan Pines and decides to help him out. This concept is so wonderful, and the characterisation is blindingly clear. Keeps you guessing at the backstory!

Across the Universe, by Queen_Mab; one-shot. SUCH a great set of adventures. The multiverse really tries to hammer in its lessons sometimes, whether they stand a chance of sticking or not. Extremely well-written and fun, I devoured every word ravenously. Some scenes of Ford's portal time, with some VERY interesting encounters.

Star Wars

Anything Brighter than Even the Sun, by @hamliet / Hamliet; complete multichapter. The Rogue One crew survives and continues rebelling, as does Galen! The main focus is on Jyn and Cassian's characters and relationship, and how they navigate growing into a family. I love Jyn's character especially in this, with all those hard edges guarding a deep, deep well of passion.

Chirality, by @niobiumao3 / Niobium; complete multichapter. A Tech was CX-2 fic! It's great to see this fan theory explored, and Niobium writes so well! The plot is entrancing and has you hooked on the edge of your seat waiting for all the pieces to fall into place for our poor brainwashed guy. The way CX-2 thinks and melds with the personality of who Tech once was is beautiful and his interactions with his family and Phee are a sight to behold.

Crash Landing by @returnofahsoka / delightwrites; complete multichapter. Another Tech is CX-2 fic, can you tell this idea has a hold of me. The characters' voices in this come through SO clearly, it's insane, and the writing style is perfection. Jumbled and pained and confused and grieving, all threaded through with that little bit of hope. Wonderful.

I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong), by @miadeardn / sheikahs; oneshot. An AU where Crosshair's chip never activates and he is as embroiled in adjusting to being on the run with a new little sister as the rest of the Batch. Just a sweet little moment between the two. Both of them are written very in-character, and it's great seeing a side of Crosshair that never came to regard his brothers as his enemies.

Talking in Defence, by @buskuta / buskuta; oneshot. An awesome look at all of Hunter's complicated feelings regarding Omega and Crosshair's relationship post-Tantiss. He's not a paragon of perfection, he's human. I can't emphasise enough how much I love this and how well he's written here.

Unyielding, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. The scene immediately post-reunion between Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker, with some speculation on Crosshair's internal strife at that moment. There's a chapter for each of the remaining Batch and Wrecker's is EXCEEDINGLY well-written in my opinion. We don't get nearly enough exploration in canon or fanon about the depth of his thoughts and feelings.

Plan 100, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. An awesome canon-divergence speculating on Omega and Crosshair's escape from Tantiss. The action is great, the strategy and coded communication is so sharp, and the feeling of desperation as Omega and Crosshair fight to evade recapture is fantastically taut. I especially love the small moments in this showing just how close these two have grown, and, in Crosshair's case, how little he's realised it happening. It feels very true to their characters.

Through Darkness Unknown, by @stardustandash / StardustAndAsh; complete multichapter. Holy shit the stakes are so high in this. A Tech Lives canon divergence of Omega and Crosshair's stay in Tantiss, and you can really FEEL just how helpless they all are to Hemlock's control. I absolutely love how this fic does not pull its punches, really forcing Crosshair and Omega into relying heavily on each other. There's so many great scenes in this that are seared into my brain!!

Ask Yourself, by StoneSage; complete multichapter. Omega is captured by the Empire while Crosshair's still working for them. I freaking love the complicated messiness of Crosshair's response to this- he's constantly challenged to act on the callous persona he projects, and constantly comes up short realising what he's actually willing to do to his family when it comes down to it. Very true to his character, and the quandaries Rampart presents him with a subtly terrifying. A fantastic examination of character and a great plot to go with it.

The Space in Between, by Misvet; incomplete multichapter. A series of stories focusing on the complications and dangers involved with Omega joining the Bad Batch. The writing style is great, the plots are great, the characters are great! It's all great! Just read it!

Maybe Fate Has Different Plans, by hanged_albatross; complete series. God I love this so much. Some incredibly touching and well-written moments of the Bad Batch protecting each other in a dangerous galaxy, with Omega, of course, at the centre. She is characterised so well in this, and constantly written with the idea of despite being so young, she is also no less protective of her brothers than they are of her.

Modern Batch, by kaydear; incomplete series. DUUUUDES just read this. It's such a sweet collection of stories about an alternate universe of the Bad Batch in a contemporary setting. Life is tough and complicated and full of pain, but also there are others right beside you to lean on when you need it, and so life is also full of love. I have cried multiple times while reading and re-reading this.

Skulduggery Pleasant

I Will Lay Me Down, by mcginnis; oneshot. This is perfection. A rewrite of the aftermath of the Lord Vile reveal in Death Bringer. I wish this was canon. Valkyrie and Skulduggery are PERFECTLY characterised in this scene, and the nitty-gritty of how they're both feeling is thoroughly explored and explained, and the tone of the story never once diverges from canon's- it is complicated, dark, and interspersed with ridiculous levity.

Pride and Prejudice

A New Addition, by @ralkana / Ralkana; oneshot. A great fic about Elizabeth and Darcy and childbirth, various moments in this are imprinted in my mind permanently. High emotions all over the place, incredible tension and wonderful dynamics between the two main characters and the rest of the family.

Mr Bennet Travels Through Time, by AMarguerite; oneshot. A truly great fic with a wild concept that totally works. Mr Bennet is actually from the 1990s. Weird and funny, but also touching and sad, and goes leagues towards explaining a lot of this man's quirks and contradictions. I was fully invested in this all the way through reading, and it did not disappoint. Utterly satisfying.

Once Upon a Time

The Worst, by @alchemistc / alchemistique; oneshot. The real-life dynamics of these ridiculous fairytale people had me grinning ear to ear. The mortifying ordeal of your family of fictitious characters helping you move into your college dorm as told from Henry's perspective. Love it to death.

[batbabydamian]

Hey, I started reading Robin son of Batman because of your recommendation (I literally have a print of your post on my phone to not forget lol). Honestly? One of the best things I ever read!!!

Thank you for opening my eyes! Damian has been one of my favorite characters for over a year, but I didn't read/watch much of him because of school, life (and probably an executive dysfunction in the mix).

Maya is incredible. I loved her.

I haven't finished all the issues yet, but do you have any other recommendations?

WAH this makes me so happy, i'm glad you still gave it a shot even with how busy life is!! ;v;

i’d love to give reccs, and i’ll try to go a beginner friendly route! tbh you can pick up whatever here, but since you've read R:SOB i’d immediately follow up with Batman and Robin (2011) #1-8! this first arc is what’s referred to in Maya’s introduction, and it's just. so good.

Main Books

Batman and Robin (2009)

Dick as Batman with Damian as his Robin!

#20-22 Tree of Blood: Dark Knight vs White Knight arc is done by Tomasi and Gleason, the team for the next Batman and Robin series

*Batman and Robin (2011)

Bruce and Damian figuring out their relationship as both Batman & Robin and father & son

imo you can enjoy the ride and read straight through this but i’ll add context to avoid as much confusion as possible since there’s the occasional tie-in or offscreen events, like Damian’s death nbd

Batman Incorporated (2012) #1-10

events leading to Damian's death - affects Batman and Robin (2011) from issue #18

kind of a tough read especially with how Talia's written, but a lot of iconic bits like Batcow, Damian's vegetarian declaration, Alfred the cat, "We Were the Best, Richard."

Robin (2021)

another self-discovery adventure, particularly after Alfred’s death and a fallout with Bruce (and questionable writing choices from his last Teen Titans run)

Batman and Robin (2023)

currently ongoing! after a number of events, Bruce and Damian are back as a duo

Damian Dynamics!

Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7, 10-12

arc where Damian meets one of his first Gotham friends, Colin Wilkes

Batgirl (2009) #5-7, #17

Steph and Damian dynamic! "the bad cop, worse cop" dysfunctional duo

Red Robin (2009) #13-14

early Tim and Damian dynamic that of course includes fighting haha. funny enough, accidentally my first intro to Damian LOL

Teen Titans (2003) #89-92

Dick!Batman has Damian join the Teen Titans. Start of Damian and Rose Wilson dynamic that’s extended in Robin (2021)

Batman: Gates of Gotham (2011)

Damian meets Cass and has a brief team up

Gotham Academy (2015) #7

Damian meets Maps Mizoguchi! they have a few other meetings, but outside of that the series itself is a great read!

Robin War Event (2015)

Robin War (2015) #1, Grayson (2014) #15, Detective Comics (2011) #47, We Are Robin (2015) #7, Robin: Son of Batman (2015) #7, Robin War (2015) #2

Duke and Damian dynamic! not exactly beginner friendly but these are the main issues in order for the event! you can also read the TPB version for everything including Tie-Ins

Nightwing (2016) #16-20, #42, #43

#16-20 Nightwing and Robin arc!

#42 Dick on a mission to save Damian! the one appearance of "Wiggles" the dragon

#43 Dick, Roy, and Damian team-up

New Talent Showcase 2018 "Catwoman: Pedigree"

Selina, Damian, and Alfred the cat

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding - Robin vs. Ra's Al Ghul (2018)

Selina, Damian, and Cheese Viking - Damian's fav game shown in Nightwing: Rebirth (2016)

Monkey Prince (2022) #1-4

Marcus Sun Shugel-Shen's main comic, but Damian features as a fun dynamic here before they're in more serious circumstances in Batman VS Robin (2022)/Lazarus Planet event

Superman (2016) #10 - 11

the beginning of the Super Sons! featuring Maya!

Super Sons (2017)

solitary arcs but there’s a few event tie-in issues later

Adventures of the Super Sons (2018)

literally more Super Sons adventures lol galactic shenanigans yeehaw

Challenge of the Super Sons (2020) 

Super Sons time shenanigans feat. the Justice League

Robin 80th Anniversary (2020)

"Boy Wonders" - brief Damian feature as Tim considers his next step in life

"My Best Friend" - Jon's thoughts on Damian and their dynamic

"Bat and Mouse" - refers to Damian's unfortunate Teen Titans (2016) run at the time of release which follows up with Teen Titans Annual #2 where Damian briefly gives up Robin

Extra Comics!

Superman/Batman (2003) #77

Kara and Damian in a Halloween team-up! also the appearance of "Li'l Matches" lol

DCU Halloween Special '09 "Cavity Search"

Damian out on a solo mission for Halloween night. Immediately after is Tim's Red Robin story "Then and Now: Our Father's Sins" which is more somber in contrast but also a good read!

DCU Halloween Special 2010 "Robin the Vampire Slayer"

a Dick!Batman and Robin story featuring the vampire Andrew Bennett

Cursed Comics Cavalcade (2018) "The Devil You Know"

Halloween themed comic with a sweet short story of Damian alongside Solomon Grundy

DC's Terrors Through Time (2022)

"Trick or Treat" a Super Sons Halloween story

"The Haunting of Wayne Manor" Damian and Deadman story - in the end, Boston kinda refers to Nezha's possession of Damian in Batman VS Robin (2022) which was happening at the time of this release

Batman: Li'l Gotham (2013)

lighthearted series that instantly makes me smile with the silliness and Dustin Nguyen’s art i love this dearly

Secret Origins (2014) #4 "A Boy's Life"

a retelling of Damian's origin story

Detective Comics (2016) #1001-1005

Batman and Robin vs the Arkham Knight (unrelated to the game)

Truth & Justice (2021) #6/#16 - 18 Digital First version

cute story of Damian’s birthday! Juni Ba’s art is so fun!!

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration (2021) “Special Delivery”

short story about Damian! and poisoned pizzas. completely forgot the artist Sami Basri drew Rebirth Damian here before catboy Damian lol Cass’s story “Sounds” is also cute! Marcus makes his first appearance in "The Monkey Prince Hates Superheroes"

DC VS Vampires (2021)

Damian makes appearances throughout this elseworlds book, but the one-shot DC VS Vampires: Hunters (2022) is vampire Damian-centric!

Batman: Black and White (2021) #5

“Father & Son Outing” short story written and drawn by Jorge Jimenez!

Batman: Urban Legends (2021) #20-23

#20 “My Son” Talia and Bruce focus

#20 - 23 “The Murder Club” 4 Parts

Tiny Titans (2008) #33, #39, #45, #47

a few appearances but SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM

*Batman and Robin (2011) reading guide

i'm mostly trying to avoid the "what did i just walk in on?" kinda feeling when i first started reading comics LOL i'll list the comics where events take place, but you don't necessarily have to read them to go through this book since things are usually explained as quickly as possible in the first page or so

#0 Someday Never Comes

Talia and baby Damian before he grows up to meet Bruce

#1-8 Born to Kill

just an incredibly solid arc for Bruce and Damian!

#9 Court of Owls Tie-In Issue

Damian VS a Court of Owls Talon. While Bruce is occupied with a home invasion of Talons, Alfred makes a call for allies to protect targeted Gotham public figures from Talons. During Batman (2011) #1-11

#10-12 Terminus

Damian challenges the previous Robins sans Steph

Batman Incorporated (2012) is occurring at this time where Talia has placed a bounty on Damian and there's small mentions of that

#13-14 Eclipsed/Devoured

mostly solitary arc! end of it leads into the Death of the Family event

#15-16 Death of the Family Tie-In Issues

Damian and Joker face-off... Alfred's been kidnapped by the Joker, and Damian goes looking for him. During Batman (2011) #13-17

#17 Life is but a Dream - Death of the Family Epilogue

a sort of subconscious check-in through the dreams of Damian, Alfred, and Bruce. Nightwing (2011) #17 features Damian encouraging Dick after Death of the Family events

#18 Undone "Requiem"

Bruce dealing with Damian's death from Batman Incorporated #8

other reactions to Damian's death: Dick in Nightwing (2011) #18, Tim in Teen Titans (2011) #18

#19-23 Denial, Rage, The Bargain, Despair, Acceptance

Bruce through the stages of grief with some batfam appearances in each. also introduces Carrie Kelley into continuity as Damian's acting tutor.

Batman (2011) #19-20 also addresses Bruce's loss

#23.1-23.4

these could be skipped - villain stories, also related to Forever Evil event.

#24-28 The Big Burn

optional Batman and Two-Face/Harvey Dent arc, #23.1 is part of this story!

Damian's resurrection and return

#29-32 The Hunt for Robin

Ras took Talia and Damian's bodies from their graves, and Bruce goes after him.

-> Robin Rises: Omega

continues events from #32. if you don't want to jump to this, basically, Glorious Godfrey and a bunch of parademons from Apokolips are here for a chaos shard which Ra's put in Damian's sarcophagus. at some point, Bruce gets a hold of the shard where he sees a vision that leads him to believe Damian can be resurrected. Godfrey ends up taking the shard, along with Damian's body since it was emitting the same energy.

#33-37 Robin Rises

Bruce hellbent on retrieving Damian from Apokolips and reviving him

-> Robin Rises: Alpha

necessary to read and continues events from #37! Damian's back with a bang lol

#38-40 Superpower

Damian adjusting to having superpowers and being alive again

Annual #1 2013 Batman Impossible

sweet (and funny) one-shot of Damian sending Bruce on a meaningful scavenger hunt around the world while Damian gets to be the cutest Batman for a bit

Annual #2 2014 Batman and Robin: Week One

one-shot takes place during Damian's absence. after Bruce and Alfred find a mystery gift left for Dick, Dick recounts a story he had told Damian from his Robin days.

Annual #3 2015 Moonshot

one-shot Batman and Robin adventure on the moon!

...and of course after Batman and Robin (2011), Damian's story continues in his first solo Robin: Son of Batman (2015)!

[calderacitylovers]

Zutara SlowBurn FanFiction: Personal Favs, part II

·        DESTINY IS A FUNNY THING by Megara Pike | Published: 2020-08-21 | 198K Words | 45 Chapters

ATLA Season 3 rewrite, fills in a lot of blanks between canon scenes. From the Southern Raiders to Sozin's Comet through coronation and aftermath. Growing friendships, bonding, being there for each other, a carnival & a cave, epic spirits' appearance on the Ember island, sparring, nightmares, assassination attempts, political ruses, and covert operations. Lovely, sweet. Exciting plot.

 ·        ATLA Book 4: Ashes by elayne_cypher | Published: 2018-10-27 | 306K words | 34 Chapters

This action-packed story picks up right after Ember Island Players and continues well after the war. Zuko is facing many challenges as a new Fire Lord. Romance, tough decisions, rebels, traitors, out-of-body experiences, secret headquarters, angst, teamwork, fire jets. The story has a bunch of OCs.

 ·        Refraction by caroes3725  | Published: 2020-09-09 | 215K Words | 37 Chapters

After breaking up with Aang, Katara needs to figure out her place and role in the patriarchal world. As determined Katara stubbornly bulldozes her way through Fire Nation political scene, her feelings for Zuko grow. Diplomatic visits, Gaang reunion, bonding with Kanna, insights into the life of Caldera city, stuffy politicians, cute correspondence, tropical storm, women supporting women, assassination attempts, personal boundaries. A sweet well-written coming-of-age story with a healthy measure of slow-burn and mutual pining. Katara and Zuko are both POVs, but the story mostly follows Katara. Bonus: Mai is NOT a clingy resentful idiot, but a smart person and a good friend. Some explicit language here and there, a bit of mild smut.

 ·        I Asked You First by halfhoursonearth | Published: 2020-10-03 | 142K words | 22/? Chapters

Ongoing, incomplete. Post Southern Raiders ATLAS3 rewrite. Mostly canon-compliant with blanks filled in between familiar scenes. Zuko and Katara develop a close friendship built on trust and sharing each other’s fears and hopes. Includes mentions of implied child abuse, Lu Ten’s diaries, exploring Avatar Roku’s legacy, sharing a balcony, heart-to-hearts, a hot spring under the stars, an actual date, and artbending. It’s incomplete, but what we have is bliss. Slowburn, mutual pining. Zutara-centric, but also explores the personalities of Team Avatar and their relationships.

 ·        Katara Alone by cablesscutie | Published: 2020-05-31 | 21K words

Katara is not an “unnecessary accessory to a more powerful man”. After the war, she is willing to forge her own path as she turns to people who need her the most on her journey of self-discovery. Features character exploration, correspondence, exploring outback villages of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, sweet reunions, and new firebending skills.

 ·        THE PHOENIX AND THE DRAGON - THE COMPLETE SERIES by JasmineTeaLatte | Published: 2021-06-11 | 100K words | 31 Chapters

This story picks up after The Ember Island Players. Zuko and Katara get to know each other during a late-night conversation by the campfire. In this story, you will find healthy boundaries, protective Sokka, a dash of Taang, sparring, funny banter & lots of flirting.

·        HESITATE by tiffaniesblews | Published: 2020-07-11 | 22K Words | 12 Chapters

This story picks up right after Zuko's coronation and spans two years afterwards. Zuko & Katara talk, share a few beautiful moments, write to each other, and reunite for the 2nd anniversary of the war ending. Very sweet, fluffy story about two sweethearts figuring out their feelings for each other.

·        LIKE WE'RE MADE OF STARLIGHT by Naladot | Published: 2021-11-28 | 5K Words

Katara leaves her post as the ambassador to the Fire Nation to take up a new one as the ambassador to the Northern Water Tribe. Her absence makes Zuko realize that he's got an unfortunate crush, which he is determined to keep secret. Unfortunately for him, subtly has never been one of his strengths—especially when he arrives in the Northern Water Tribe and she keeps taking him on what seem to be dates.

·        FIGURE IT OUT by clearascountryair | Published: 2021-12-20 | 35K words | 13 Chapters

After choosing not to kill Yon Rha, Katara rethinks her sense of self and others' perceptions of her. Or,    In which Katara learns that there’s a really big difference between being kissed when you don’t want to be and being kissed when you do. Aged-up 3B/Ember Island AU.

-  I FOUND YOU by that_turtleduck | Published: 2020-11-01 Completed: 2024-02-24 Words: 157,541 Chapters: 28/28

After divorcing Aang, Katara uproots her family and travels to Caldera. There she finds comfort, kindness and support from an old friend. Katara tries to find her footing as an independent political figure. Great story & relationship dynamic of Momtara & Dadko in their early 30s (Ember island, diplomatic meeting, dancing, turtleduck pond, letters). Delicious slow burn with rewarding spicy resolution in the end (explicit open door). Titters on the side of Anti-Aang.

Here’s a link to Part I of my personal favorites.

Here’s a link to Wholesome Zutara Short Stories.