Why Did I Confidently Read The Mark One As "what I'm Gonna Do To You Tonight's Gonna Leave An Invincible"

i've never ever heard someone use the term "girlfailure" and it's SENDING me

zuko is bad at war, logistics, and firebending and is a girlboss at everything else. azula is good at war, logistics, and firebending and is a girlfailure at everything else

lets be so real if toph had a gun, atla would have been a handful of episodes tops like she would have taken care of business asap

Fortnite, are you sure about this? Did you think it through?

actually crying over this interaction katara has in my fic on kyoshi island where she realizes how nice it is to have girlfriends

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“Guess what your brother’s up to…” Ayiti was beaming, barely holding back her laughter now.

“Spirits, I’m not sure I even want to know.” Katara rolled her eyes, carefully curling up the centuries old paper in front of her and tucking it alongside the others in her cloth satchell. “What, did he accidentally get a sword stuck in some important monument after bragging to some poor unassuming villager about his swordsmanship?”

“Better.” Ayiti’s eyes flashed with amusement as she settled into the plush stool opposite Katara. She reached forward, hands resting on the varnished wooden table as her elegantly almond shaped nails drummed rhythmically in anticipation. “I missed his grand entrance, but apparently, he’s been set on helping us poor, untrained Kyoshi warriors! He pranced his way in, going on and on about how he’s the best warrior in his tribe. I got there just in time to see Suki wipe the floor with him.”

Katara groaned in embarrassment, burying her head in her hands as she slumped against the table. 

“No, no, you don’t need to be too embarrassed for him.” Ayiti rested a comforting hand on Katara’s arm as the Water tribe girl looked up, her scepticism apparent in her expression. “He was actually pretty sweet after Suki humbled him. He said he was ready to learn, that he had been overly cocky when he came in.”

Katara wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound like the Sokka I know.”

“We were surprised too! He let us paint his face in the traditional style of Kyoshi warriors, even put on the armoured gown too!” Ayiti giggled again, remembering. “Although he was a little embarrassed when Aang saw him in it. I think Sokka interpreted Aang’s attempt to compliment him as Aang poking a little fun at him.”

“What’s Aang been up to, anyways?” Katara tried to make the question seem thoughtless, throwing in a shrug to accompany her words, but Ayiti’s shrewd expression saw right through her. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” She crooned, a teasing grin on her face. “C’mon, you’ve gotta get your mind off of the Avatar, and you’ve had your nose buried in scrolls the whole day. Let me show the future Waterbending master around my little old village.”

Ayiti helped Katara gather the rest of the scrolls and drop them off in the guesthouse, then dragged her between the different stalls, chattering animatedly. Katara had never really gotten to have a girlfriend her age, and she couldn’t believe all that she’d missed out on. For once, she felt her age. Back home, she took care of so many of the village kids whose parents had been lost to fire nation raids. She felt like it was her responsibility, that it was the least she could do, and she did enjoy it.

But perhaps she hadn’t quite grasped what it had taken out of her.

For every hour Sokka spent hunting for food and training to be a warrior, Katara spent parenting children, washing laundry, cooking, cleaning, repairing homes and weapons. She wished for maybe the millionth time that she and her brother had been able to have proper childhoods, present parents to lift that burden from them. She remembered Aang reminding her that she still was a kid. 

Here, walking around the market with Ayiti, she slipped into conversation excitedly, the two’s conversation oscillating between mentions of what the war had taken from them and more lighthearted teasing, and she was beyond grateful for the simplicity of a friend who saw her. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

♥ this will be coming out along with the rest of ch4 on wednesday! check out the first three chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->

your honor, it is them.

just had the most disjointed idea for a joke pop into my mind. something about accidentally misspelling headcanon and then u have a cannon on your head and help i think i'm losing it

i need opinions because i'm currently workshopping/ editing the next couple uploads of mine for kataang week and for the disguise prompt, i'll be doing a kataang cinderella au (yes i'm doing more disney and no you can't stop me).

i usually title my works with song lyrics that resonate with me/ lyrics that are related to the content, so i'm hoping for opinions on the following lyric options from the songs of cinderella ->

thoughts?? alternate ideas?? feel free to share:)

we don't talk enough about how often katara saves aang. like she fully figured out how to pull water from somebody's LUNGS for him. ugh i love her!!!!

the following is an excerpt from my kataang multichapter fic called "the teenager in the iceberg", where aang is aged up to 16 in order to flip him and katara's dynamic into she falls first, he falls harder. this is from chapter four, which JUST DROPPED TODAY!!:D <3

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 She watched in horror as dark fins began to rise from the water, and Aang looked back at her with fear in his eyes. He rose from the water, struggling to hold on to the shiny scales of the Unagi. The beast’s head rose out of the water alongside its torso, and it tipped its head curiously at the sight of Aang on its back, baring its teeth as it did. Aang jumped, swinging on the creature’s whiskers, trying to evade its sword-sized teeth. Without notice, it snapped its jaws open, unnaturally wide to the point of unhinging, and a concentrated jet of water shot out of its throat, sending Aang flying across the bay towards Katara. Even from the distance she was at, she could see that his body had landed wrong, unnatural, crumpled.

“AANG!” She shouted, wading into the water as quickly as she could, hoping with all her will that she could somehow outrun this ancient serpent hell bent on getting to Aang before she could. Aang didn’t stir. Against her own pessimistic judgement of their odds of survival, Katara somehow managed to scoop Aang against her, holding him tight. He was unconscious, and she couldn’t see if he was breathing. Another bolt of fear struck through her. Through blurry vision made hazy by fear and anger, Katara watched the Unagi rear its head again, but instead of holding Aang against her and waiting for their inevitable end, she struck back.

It happened so quickly, the wave of water that mirrored the rising tide of anger crashing through Katara’s own body. Her hand moved as if she wasn’t in complete control, and perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps the spirits of water had looked kindly upon the two kindred souls. Or perhaps, Katara had simply moved in accordance with what the pure adrenaline that seemed to replace her very blood demanded. 

The two of them were thrown backwards, Katara’s wave of water pushing them to the safety of the shore. She allowed herself only a second to catch her breath before rolling over to check on Aang.

Still, the Airbender did not stir.

“Aang. Please , wake up.”

He did not breathe.

She closed her eyes, running her hand along his chest, the heat that normally radiated from him snuffed out entirely. She could feel water there, in his lungs, weighing them down. The wrongness of it . She could feel the liquid tugging at her, the molecules themselves wishing to return to the ocean from whence they came.

She obliged them.

Katara coaxed out a thin tendril of the seawater, watching nervously as Aang shuddered involuntarily as the stream of liquid flowed through his lips. He coughed. Coughed again.

Another cough, and his eyes opened, and she was met with the comforting vibrance of his storm-cloud eyes. 

“K-Katara,” He managed, the words strained by salt and sea. “Don’t ride the Unagi. Not fun .”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

♥ check out the first four chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->

fandom culture sometimes kinda reminds me of the feeling of being in an AP english class where one quarter of your classmates are just silent observers or just silly class clowns, another quarter keep quietly whispering answers to themselves that are absolutely brilliant and relevant points and the remaining half barely did their readings and are just loudly talking to hear themselves talk

what if jack & elsie from love, theoretically met as rival undergraduates, and were forced to co-TA a first-year physics class?

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˗ˏˋ fic summary: ˎˊ˗

elsie hannaway, famed people pleaser, hates jack smith turner with a burning passion. since the very moment she looked up the cute boy in her first year physics class excitedly, only to realize that he had been behind the paper years before that had single handedly reduced her future field of study to a subject of mockery, elsie has taken every single negative emotion that she usually keeps locked behind a carefully curated version of herself and funnelled it into unadulterated loathing. now, in the fifth and final year of her undergraduate degree, the only thing standing between her and an acceptance into her program of choice is a spot TA-ing the university's introductory physics course. unfortunately, jack smith turner will be standing beside her as her co-TA. in theory, this is an impossible arrangement, but jack and elsie are soon to discover that things are never as they seem. elsie can be a million versions of herself simultaneously, an electron can be a particle and a wave, and perhaps jack smith turner can be both a scourge on theoretical physics and the best thing that has ever happened to her.

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˗ˏˋ sneak peak: ˎˊ˗

As she stormed up the stairs to the TA coordination overseer’s office, Elsie thought to herself that this was perhaps the most anger she had ever allowed herself to feel in all twenty-one years of her life thus far. Worse than her flare of irritation at Ceecee months before for allowing her evil spikeball to eat the rare cheese collection Elsie had sprung for as a self-gifted birthday present, certainly worse than that time when that same spiny ball of fury had taken a midday nap on the seat of her office chair,  and somehow, worse than the fateful publication in Annals of Theoretical Physics that had undermined her future field of study entirely for years to come. 

Yes, all of that certainly paled in comparison to the events that had been set into motion only days before when she had, naively and idiotically, she might add, assumed that becoming an undergraduate TA in the last year of her degree could lead to nothing but good things. A boost on her grad school applications? Check. The ability to endow the incoming freshmen with a lifelong love and passion for physics? Double check. Co-TA-ing with the absolute blight on theoretical physics that was Jack Smith Turner? Who also happened to be six and a half feet of unfairly cruel gorgeousness? Who also also had sealed his fate as her sworn enemy since the faithful day he’d taken the last first-row seat in their Physics 110 class?

Unfortunately, quintuple-check, which is why she was currently storming up the stairs to the TA coordination center, only footsteps behind said long-legged perpetual thorn in her side. 

“It isn’t too late to give up and turn around, Jack,” Elsie huffed, mentally making a note to join Cece on her early-morning runs more often as she charged forward, propelled by pure indignation alone. “This is my TA spot, and we both know it.”

“Elsie, for the last time, there is no reason why we can’t just do this together,” Jack sighed, unfairly calm and unbothered-looking for someone who had remained several steps ahead of her since they’d begun climbing four flights of stairs ago. “The class is too large for one TA. You can’t run labs by yourself, an-”

“Oh, I can’t run labs by myself?” Elsie seethed, her rage peaking more steeply than a displacement verses time graph with increasing velocity- a concept that she could certainly teach better than this elitist theoretical-physics-invalidator-robot masquerading as a science undergraduate. Typically, she would never allow herself to snap at anyone the way she was now, but there was something about Jack that single-handedly managed to unravel every last one of her meticulously curated alternate personalities, and she hated him with the fire of a thousand Wolf-Rayet stars for it. The logical part of her brain knew that more likely than not, Jack was only intending to point out the obvious- that a class of two hundred plus only one TA would undoubtedly lead to disaster regardless of said TA’s competence- but something about his tone, so smooth and careful and goddamn patronizing was enough for her to allow her irritation to show quite plainly. 

“Elsie, you and I both know that’s not what I meant.” Jack groaned, halting in front of her to hold open the door, and Elsie had to bite her tongue to hold back her thanks. As she stormed through ahead of him, she thought that she saw his eyes lock onto her face for a moment, his gaze rapt with attention. His next words were a bit softer, more likely than not an attempt to placate her into not begging the coordinator to remove him from the course. “You’re smarter than deliberate misinterpretations.” 

Elsie couldn’t quite think of a sufficiently snappy response. She settled on, “You don’t know that,” which was admittedly not exactly her best scathing retort. 

“I’d like to think I do.” 

Elsie paused at the note of sincerity, her eyes flicking back to meet his, which hadn’t left her since she’d passed him at the door. “If I have even a little bit of luck, which unfortunately seems unlikely considering that I’ve been assigned to TA a year-long class with the guy that tried to delegitimize my entire field of interest when he was seventeen, you’ll never know me well enough to confirm or deny that.” Elsie’s voice was cold now, any hint of teasing gone, and with that, she pivoted sharply. If she had cared enough to see his response, she would have seen his face falling for a fraction of a second before he re-composed himself, steeling his expression once more. 

After bickering back and forth for some time in the hallway outside the heavy oak door over which of the two would plead their case first, the TA coordinator on duty (who happened to be a very underpaid and understandably irritated graduate student volunteer) eventually shouted through the door that the two of them could come in together or flirt somewhere she wasn’t. Shuddering at the thought of seeing Jack in any sort of romantic light, Elsie had pushed open the door first, with Jack hot on her heels. 

After only five minutes of the pair repeatedly cutting off one another and glaring vehemently at each other, the coordinator cut through their chatter with a single raised finger and a glare that entirely silenced both of them more effectively than the mute button on a remote. 

“Enough, please.” The coordinator, whose name according to her desk sign was Ashley, slid her head into her hands in exasperation, her irritation evident. The beads at the end of her blond braids clicked against the thick wooden desk and then her chair as she straightened, facing the two head-on. Her British accent had been more subtle when she had welcomed the pair in, but its increased intensity seemed to be directly correlated with the length of time she spent with the pair. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty-four or twenty-five, but she looked as tired as if she had been dealing with the two for years. “I can’t shuffle the first-year’s TA’s on a whim just because of some…petty rivalry.” 

Both Elsie and Jack surged forward, their words overlapping urgently as they attempted to communicate that no, this was very much more serious than a petty rivalry, but both shut up upon seeing the single finger Ashley raised in anticipation of their protest. “It’s not my job to understand the distinction between a petty rivalry and whatever layered conflict the two of you have going on, nor is it my job to mediate said conflict, but it is my job to make sure that this class is staffed. The two of you will be working together, whether you like it or not, so I would suggest making your way to the counselling office instead.” Ashley’s eyes slid between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe they can help you two sort out all this… tension.” 

Elsie and Jack, understanding all at once that they had managed to push Ashley to the end of her rope, rose from their seats and shuffled to the door as if they had been put in time-out. 

As they began down the hallway, Elsie’s ballet flats clicking sharply against the navy-tiled floor, Elsie swore she heard Ashley add under her breath, “...Or, you two could just hook up already and stop subjecting the rest of us to your weirdo version of flirting.”

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♥ my ao3 is here if you'd like to stick around to read the rest of this multichap->

˗ˏˋquillthrills on ao3ˎˊ˗

@ever-so-ali i am obsessed with everything you've ever written hopefully i can one day join you on the other end of the fanfic writer -> published author pipeline

this is the exact vibe of ATLA when it goes from the gaang escaping horrors beyond human comprehension to aang making goo-goo eyes at katara 😭🤍

it’s monday i’m in the labyrinth