What If Jack & Elsie From Love, Theoretically Met As Rival Undergraduates, And Were Forced To Co-TA A

this one's for all the kataang shippers that got a little sad every time they saw absolute husband aang slander in a zutara fanfic.

OR: the common zutara trope of "zuko helps katara escape an unhealthy relationship with aang" is flipped entirely and completely on its head.

...

The liveliness of this mountaintop temple was nothing like the cold quiet that she had felt in Zuko’s castle these last few years. After she and her friends had saved the world, ending the Fire Lord’s reign, Katara had found herself at a crossroads. Although it made the most sense, she couldn’t bring herself to return back home, to the Southern Water Tribe. The memories were… too much.

Sokka had extended an offer for her to join him at the Northern Water Tribe, where he planned to find a teacher to aid him in mastering the traditional non-bending fighting styles of their people, but Katara just couldn’t bring herself to go back there, either. Toph and Aang were both headed to reconstruct important cultural monuments destroyed during the war, including the Air temples. She had considered coming with them, she really had, but ultimately… she made a different choice. 

...

So she had stayed with Zuko. 

Through his breakup with Mai, she had been the one he came to.

Through his first year as the Fire Lord, she was at his side. Attended every meeting, talked through his ideas, dragged him out to social events when he felt so in over his head that he would sit paralyzed in his room. That closeness had turned into something else the first night that he had kissed her.

...

And after what felt like years of quiet complacency and mild agreement, Katara felt her temper awaken, flicker. She calmed herself, reasoned that she didn’t know what he was doing with them. He could be checking for threats on her life, for poison sealed into an envelope. She held fast onto that tiny scrap of belief that he was still the man she had married, trusted, loved and been loved by.

Until that last thread of hope and trust was pulled taunt and then snapped entirely when Katara slipped into his office and found them. 

There were entire drawers of letters with her name on them.

...

Her attention drifted to the bottom of the bag. To Aang's scrolls. The ones she still hadn’t let herself read.

...

Katara,

How’s the fire palace? Started any underground dance clubs yet? I guess they’d be pretty tricky to start right under the nose of the new Fire Lord. Is Zuko adjusting well? I’m a bit worried about the burden of dismantling an entire empire falling squarely on his shoulders. Do you think I should head back, stick around for some peacekeeping? Give me any reason to come to be with you help, and I will.

Yours, Aang.

...

(Fire Lady) Katara,

I heard by word of mouth from a few Fire Nation travellers that passed through the Western Air Temple that you and Zuko had gotten married. Congratulations are in order, of course, but… Sokka, Toph, your dad and I never got our invitations. Was it a Fire-Nation-only event, or something? Your dad is pretty broken up about it. Sokka and I tried to console him, but he’s fairly upset, and honestly? I’m worried about you, Katara. This doesn't seem like you. You don’t sound like yourself.

Yours, always, Aang

...

She selected a third scroll, dated only a month before.

Katara,

I can’t deny that I’m concerned about how you’re doing. Especially considering that the Katara I know would never shut down every single opportunity to see her friends. We don’t mean to be overbearing, but we love you. So much. If all the new duties that come with being wife to the Fire Lord are too much, please, please, talk to any of us. Talk to me. I care about you, Katara, I always have, and I miss my best friend.

Forever yours, Aang.

Katara slid the scroll closed before her tears could drop onto it, and she quietly packed the papers away. She reached up, rubbing those tears away furiously the way she did as a child whenever Sokka called her a crybaby. The attempt to hold the tsunami of emotion back was fruitless. She doubled over, shoulders shaking with sobs.

She knew where she would go once the cargo ship reached the land. 

♥ the rest of the (completed) fic can be found here!! ->

chappell roan winning artist of the year is such a big deal for the freak weirdo musicians of the world who’ve always been scared to be a bit different in this industry

writing an olympic kataang au rn and i swear im putting way too much rock climber lingo in it but this au is a little treat for me so i'm letting it slide

"This is dumb and way to soon, but... I love you." "Well I don't know if it's dumb or not but, I love you too"

Mark Grayson and Samantha Eve Wilkins in Invincible Season 3, Episode 4

STOP BECAUSE THEY'RE ALSO BOTH EACH OTHER'S BOOKTOK BOYFRIENDS

c'mon, every time aang went into the avatar state, you can't tell me you can't see katara saying "aang 🥺 this isn't you baby 😔 please, stop 🛑✋ for me 😌"

thinking abt this tweet again

lines from my WIP:

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

⊹  ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖  ⌬ ⋆   ༘ ⚛︎ ⊹ ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖

˗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.

˗ˏˋ more lines from my WIP!!! lolllll: ˎˊ˗

⊹  ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖  ⌬ ⋆   ༘ ⚛︎ ⊹ ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖

ꜱᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀɪᴇ ᴄᴜʀɪᴇ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄꜱ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ

⊹  ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖  ⌬ ⋆   ༘ ⚛︎ ⊹ ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖

On paper, Elsie had prepared about as much as she could for her first tutorial session. She had roped Cece into watching her go through her diligently prepared PowerPoint in exchange for watching one of the art-nouveau films she'd gotten into recently, and Elsie had spent hours doing her best to add graphics that seemed bright and approachable without looking too childish. She'd even linked report lines for student support with her female students in mind, hoping that her male students wouldn’t be able to get away with casual misogynistic jabs about women in STEM. 

However, in a much more real way, Elsie felt as though she hadn’t prepared at all. She wasn’t sure it was possible at all for anyone to ever be prepared for Jack Smith Turner. There was something about him that seemed to cut straight through crowds, and more concerningly, cut through her, and Elsie would be lying if it didn’t leave her stomach doing flips every time. 

She had expected Jack to be as polished as ever, but oddly enough, it seemed as though he felt similarly to her when he did arrive. He’d been almost as early as she was, but in an I’ve-been-in-a-manic-episode-of-stress-and-anxiety-since-three-in- the-morning way, which she found strangely endearing, considering that he was usually so unbothered that she’d taken to referring to him as “The Ice King” when complaining to Cece late at night. She had to tell herself not to humanize the enemy, Elsie, but it was so hard not to when he was dropping papers, tugging at his clothes, and pushing glasses up his nose that she swore he didn’t have before. For the first time in the four years she had known him, Elsie was beginning to wonder whether Jack had secretly had a soul all along. At least twenty minutes worth of rustling paper and furious typing passed before Elsie finally attempted to address the years-long-feud-shaped elephant in the room. 

“I was thinking that we should split and alternate the labs,” Elsie blurted, and as the words left her lips she was immediately hit with the overwhelming urge to pull the words back and rearrange them until they sounded less strange and awkward, more poised and polished, and less like someone who had been obsessively fixating on how to best organize the course for days now. 

Jack looked startled for a moment at the break in their carefully curated silence, but his features were schooled back into neutrality so quickly that Elsie wondered whether he had ever not had such a blank look on his face. “I’m sorry?”

“We should split the lab class into two groups, and alternate the experiments week to week. Then we can make the most of having two TAs, and…” She trailed off, eyes flicking away from Jack’s. “And we won’t step on each other’s toes. You won’t have to deal with me inserting theory into everything, and I won’t have to deal with your experimental whatnot. It can be like we were never stuck with each other at all.” 

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, emotion pooling in those same piercing eyes. He neatly tucked the sprawled papers in front of him into a metal-tipped navy blue folder, the same color as the waffle-fabricked Henley that had been pulling at Elsie’s attention since he had pushed through the door that morning. Elsie watched his motions almost nervously, drawn to those strong-looking hands as they dwarfed everything they picked up. “Whatever you need, Elsie,” He said simply, eyes flitting everywhere but her. His voice was flat- not happy, but not angry either. Merely unbothered, and overwhelmingly neutral.

Right then, I guess the thought of barely having to co-teach with me is so appealing that he’s ready to start pretending I’m not here already. 

Elsie did her best to ignore the bitter aftertaste of her thoughts, the way something sparked in her at his indifference. Before she could say something she would almost certainly regret, the door creaked open, the hinges themselves sounding hesitant to disturb the fragile tension that hung suspended over the room. Elsie whirled toward the door, excitement spiking in her chest when her eyes landed on the girl standing nervously in the doorway, backlit by the weak fluorescence of the hallway and front-lit by the early morning sunlight streaming through the mahogany benches of the second-floor lecture hall. 

She was tall, somehow both lanky and elegant, and the way she moved as she slowly approached the front desk reminded Elsie of a baby deer, all long legs and big brown eyes. Those same eyes were framed in thick black lashes, and her dark brown hair, curled and straightened in a perfect blowout, bounced around her shoulders and cascaded down her back in a shiny effortless-looking wave that made Elsie wish she had sprung for a nicer conditioner the last time she was stocking up. The girl couldn’t have been older than 17 or 18, but she looked polished beyond her years in a way Elsie could only dream of being.

Elsie was momentarily trapped in a spiral of thoughts on how much less put together her own first-year self had been in comparison, but was quickly broken out when the girl’s impossibly white sneakers squeaked to a stop in front of her. “I’m Ivy, Ivy Myers, I’m… um, here for Physics,” she paused, her eyes flitting downward to double check the Google Maps page she had pulled up on her phone, “...100?”

Elsie’s mind began whirring, scanning the girl. Nervousness. Tended toward perfectionism, if the flawlessly coiffed hair and perfectly pleated skirt were any indicator. Curiously, the books tucked under her arm were on various historical eras- Medieval History (Carolingian-Era Conflict), said one, while another was titled, The Masculinization of Women’s Medicine through Early France, the spines colored in complementary shades of deep pinks and blues. 

Perfect. Interests to appeal to. 

Elsie beamed, adopting a bubbly tone as she adjusted her posture from tired, overworked-TA to cheerleader-off-duty. She figured that considering how shy Ivy seemed, she might mesh a bit better with someone willing to go out of their way to make her feel comfortable. “Oh my gosh, I love the Carolingian era!”

“Really?” Ivy beamed, her eyes lighting up.

“...Really?” Jack lifted an eyebrow, and Elsie shot him a glare over her shoulder, bristling at his incredulous tone. Okay, maybe she wasn’t really into the Carolingian era, and in fact knew absolutely nothing about it, but Jack certainly didn’t know that, and she was strangely irritated at him for behaving as if he knew anything about her or her interests.

Ivy continued on, unbothered by the tense exchange between the two TAs. “I’m, um, actually a History major. The Arts advisors told me that I needed to take a science class to fulfill a requirement, so…” Ivy shrugged. “Here I am.” She bit her lip, looking off to the side somewhat. “I… I was just hoping to come in early to ask the two of you some questions?”

Elsie and Jack exchanged a sidelong look, their gazes filled with confusion rather than anger for once as they attempted to communicate their mutual skepticism telepathically. “We haven’t assigned any of the readings or practice problems yet,” Jack said, and his tone was gentle in a way that Elsie had never heard before. It was strangely sweet, hearing his voice at a low, placating rumble. “So there’s no need to-”

“I bought the textbook ahead of time.” Ivy tugged a folder filled with neatly done practice problems out from in between the history books she still clutched under her arm, and Elsie could see that some were highlighted with question marks and hastily scrawled notes in pink sparkly pen. “I know what science students think of people in humanities programs, and I didn’t want to give anyone any reason to think any less of me, so…” She trailed off again, but Elsie had heard enough that her heart broke a little for this perfectly polished girl and her need to defend her intelligence against a hypothetical room of science students who all thought less of her. Her lips parted to say something, anything to comfort her new student, but Jack beat her to the punch. 

“If anyone in this class gives you a hard time, or anyone in the program for that matter, please don’t hesitate to come to me. Elitism has no place in the sciences, and it certainly has no place in our classroom.” He looked to Elsie for confirmation and she nodded quickly, somewhat stunned at the intensity of his tone. Here he was, the face of all experimental physicists who thought themselves better than theorists, and yet, he was taking a hard stance against elitism, against self-superiority. Elsie couldn’t quite tell if he was merely a walking contradiction, or if she had misjudged him just a bit too harshly. 

“And Ivy?” He continued, leaning down slightly to meet her eyes properly. “You’re putting in more work on the first day than most of the people in this class will this whole year. Don’t forget that. You deserve a seat in this classroom just as much as anyone else.” He looked as though he would’ve continued, but the door creaked open yet again, this time making way for a flood of buzzing first-years scrambling to find seats and compare Rate My Prof scores. 

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♥ i'm working on making a full one-shot of this, and my ao3 is here if you'd like to stick around for it to come out:) ->

˗ˏˋquillthrills on ao3ˎˊ˗

my (quillthills) updated ao3 ATLA masterlist

kataang:

"the teenager in the iceberg"- multichap

i feel like a lot of people have wondered how different atla as a whole would be if aang had been older, so in this au, aang was frozen at age 16! naturally, i just had to flip aang being after katara from day one to katara now having a crush on aang from the very beginning. essentially, to recap. ATLA aang aged up AU fic. kataang. where she falls first, and he falls harder. also, cmon. i just had to write a new version of the scene where zuko and aang meet.

all at once, everything is different, now that i see you:

stuck in her tower for all eighteen years of her life, katara had come to peace with her own lonely, repetitive existence, her only company being her mother, hama. at least, she *was* at peace, until a certain airbending thief happened along her tower, caught her eye, and forever shifted the path of her destiny. OR: kataangled. and yes, i came up with that brilliant wordplay all on my own. for day two of kataang week 2024: protectiveness/ bodyguard

and i promise, that one day i'll feel fine:

after an upsetting council meeting in which aang is painfully reminded of how little the other nations understand of air nomad culture, katara is there to remind him that he isn't as alone as he thinks OR: aang & katara friends to lovers post-war 👀 for day two of kataang week 2024: cultural exchange/culture sharing/revival of traditions

if happiness were a tangible thing, it would be you:

Katara is tired of the iron grip that Emperor Ozai has over the kingdom of Rosas, tired of watching him spread his influence across the mainland. When Sokka comes home from the palace with the knowledge of an impending tragedy, Katara is left to wish on the stars in hope that they will offer salvation. They do, in the form of the Avatar, a boy transformed into a wishing star almost a century earlier. Her wish for hope is fulfilled, in the form of a boy known to be the embodiment of hope. Will that same hope be enough to stand against a man powered by the dreams and wishes of an entire kingdom?

you with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes:

Avatar Aang had been told time and time again that to venture across the surface of the sea when the moon had risen and claimed what rightfully belonged to it was to sign your own death certificate. And yet, he found himself here, at the water’s edge, skipping stones, lost in thought. To be the Avatar had once meant something, years before. Before the four tribes had separated, scattered to the ends of the earth. Those who formed fire itself chased the other tribes from the surface lands, those who could move rock and metal burrowed underground, those who flowed with the air sent ships with great sails across the sea until they reached towering mountain spires. Those who bent water, who bent blood… they retreated to the depths of the sea, and with time, they became a part of it. Legend told of the way in which the Water tribes had adapted, two legs smoothed into razor sharp scales and voices twisted into something dark and luring. Now, they were the monsters known as sirens.

you're in the wind, i'm in the water:

aang has only just been crowned as the avatar, the king of all four elements, and already, he struggles to find his footing in a society without any of his people. a dance with princess katara of the water tribe, and a subsequent escape to the palace gardens, helps him find that footing. OR: the first of many kataang regency-era works ♔

so i will go to secret gardens in my mind:

after he and katara's escape to the palace gardens the night prior, avatar aang, the king of all four elements, cannot stop thinking of the beautiful dark-haired water princess. misunderstandings and deliberate deception constructed by regent ozai makes the reconciliation of these star-crossed lovers more complicated than necessary. OR: the second of many kataang regency-era works ♔

well, my (not-yet) boyfriend's in a band:

in which the gaang are in a band, and when it comes time for them to write an original song to submit to the republic city music festival, aang is...suspiciously good at writing love song lyrics OR kataang, if they were in an indie band and aang didn't know how to communicate his feelings except through writing love songs

i'm no longer a kid, and everything has changed:

after aang falls to azula's lightning strike in the caves of the earth kingdom, toph, sokka, and katara are left to pick up the pieces. katara's healing abilities are put to the test in the weeks that follow, but she finds herself seeing aang in a different light as she realizes how much he's endured since emerging from the iceberg only months before. OR: the weeks-long gap between the end of season two and the beginning of season three of ATLA is finally at least partially expanded upon. ALSO OR: a bit of aangst, or kataangst, if you will

can you see me using everything to hold back?

Katara's life after saving the world was filled with a whirlwind romance with Fire Lord Zuko that became a loveless, controlling marriage she is no longer happy in. After finding out the extent to which her husband has betrayed her trust, she escapes to find home in the person she has missed most during her time in the Fire Nation. OR: The common Zutara trope of "Zuko helps Katara escape an unhealthy relationship with Aang" is flipped entirely and completely on its head.

my heart is yours, it's you that i hold on to:

The war has been ended, Ozai has been rendered helpless, and Zuko has reclaimed the Fire Nation with the promise of peace. Everything that Aang has been working towards since the moment Katara freed him from the iceberg has been done. He's saved the world. Now, all that's left is to confess to his forever girl. OR Aang wakes up the morning after him and his friends saved the entire world, and the first (and only) thing he can think about is Katara. When they get a chance to talk, the two take a walk down memory lane.

the avatar's adventures in parenting:

aang being a bad parent is CHARACTER ASSASSINATION and i won't stand for it. i just know that him and katara wouldn't be focused on just passing on bending, but the *teachings* and ideals of both of their tribes to all their children, regardless of bending status. OR, aang and katara become parents and aang finds out that parenting is his proudest achievement, more so than stopping a hundred year war or holding the position of avatar

i'm trying to tell you something, something that i already said:

katara speaks to each member of the gaang individually and finds out that aang has been head over heels with her for years and no one ever bothered telling her. this takes place after the fire lord is defeated, but in my version, they never kissed in the finale:oo katara is basically dumb in terms of love and so is aang and they are peak miscommunication trope and theres too much zutara content and not enough kataang OR katara interrogates each of her friends (toph, sokka, and zuko) and comes to the conclusion that she has lived for years without the kind of love most people wish for their entire lives

yukka:

there's a star-man, waiting in the sky:

a flash-fiction atla modern AU in which yue passes away from cancer early in life, and sokka becomes an astronaut so that he can go to space and be close to the moon she always loved so much ☾

shining down on me:

sokka can't stop thinking about yue. she comes to him in his dreams, and try as he might, he just can't move on. inspired by the song "my love, mine all mine" by mitski "moon, tell me if i could send up my heart to you? so, when i die, which i must do, could it shine down here, with you?"

if any of these speak to you, they can all be found on my ao3 account:)<3 happy reading!!!

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

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“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! ->

sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?

yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.

also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"

this idea was originally inspired by the talented @allgremlinart's aged up aang drawings, so please go show them some love!!:)<3

enjoy the excerpts from chapters one and two!

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang chuckled, pushing himself up with his hands on his knees. He was… taller than Katara had realised, taller than Sokka. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, turning to look over his shoulder at the remains of the boulder-sized chunk of ice he had just been blasted out of.  “Aang. My name’s Aang.” He hesitated, momentarily seeming to puzzle something over. “And honestly? No clue. Don’t remember how me and…Appa!” He yelped, suddenly scrambling back over the hill of ice and snow. Katara followed him without thinking, and Sokka, grumbling under his breath, followed moments later. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“So, you’ve brought a monster to invade the village, then? You’re some incognito Fire Nation soldier sent in as an undercover scout? Well, I’ll have you know that I’m the village’s strongest warrior, a-”

“The only warrior,” Katara chimed in, lightly elbowing Sokka’s side, earning herself a responding glare. 

“The strongest warrior.” Sokka reiterated. “And I don’t much like firebenders.” He added the words pointedly.

“Ah.” Aang titled his head. “That’s a shame. Some of my closest friends are Fire Nation.”

“Of course they are,” Sokka glared, hunching over into a defensive position and adjusting his fishing spear until it pointed directly at Aang.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Katara still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Aang. The Water Tribe boys had always been all flashy muscles, seal-jerky breath, and overconfidence, so Katara had never seen someone move, carry themself, the way Aang did. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Katara had admittedly forgotten how much fun penguin sledding was. “Spirits, I haven’t done this since I was a kid!” she called to Aang as he raced past her, surprisingly skilled considering that he’d never even seen a penguin until half an hour before. 

“You still are a kid!” He called back over his shoulder. “A kid who’s losing this race, badly !”

Katara’s competitive streak reared its head, her eyes narrowing as Aang stuck out his tongue. She sat up slightly, no longer gripping the penguin’s fur as tightly. “You wish!” She shouted back the words as she raised her hands, breathing deeply. Her hands moved through the positions she had practised from the few bending scrolls the tribe still held on to, and before Aang knew it, the snow in front of Katara turned to ice, and she shot past him as his own ice trail suddenly became dry snow with too much friction to slide on. 

She made it to the bottom of the hill, beaming, breathing heavily. The wind had whipped her hair out of her bun, and she knew without checking that her hair must have looked like a lion-turtle’s mane. She watched as Aang made a show of drying himself off with a gust of wind that he then redirected at her, messing up her curls even more. 

“You’re a cheater !” Aang gasped, mockingly clutching imaginary pearls at his throat. “I demand a rematch.”

Katara strode past him, only turning her head to cast him a smug smirk. “Maybe you’re just not as good of a penguin sledder as you thought .”

“Oh, not so fast!” Aang grabbed her wrist, tugging her back towards him, and she internally questioned why the momentary brush of their skin made her heart flip. He tried to trip her, she tried to flip him, and they both ended up on their backs in the snow, giggling, cheeks and noses bright pink from the cold. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“Trouble sleeping too, huh?” Aang cocked a grin, tilting his head to Katara. She kept her eyes fixed upwards, trained on the moon and the stars, worried that if she looked away, she’d end up staring into his eyes like a weirdo. 

“I always feel so awake with the moon’s light on me. Sleeping under the stars has never really been a thing that works. It’s too energising, too… too much. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, no… I get it. I feel the same way in a windstorm, all those breezes and gusts of wind, it feels… exhilarating.” She watched through her peripheral vision as he looked up at the moon. “In times of war, I think we all tend to forget how spiritual bending is at its core. I’d say it’s a good thing that you’re in touch enough with the origins of your abilities to feel the moon’s pull tug at you just as much as it does on the ocean.” 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang smiled back. “Now is our time to try to make up for that. I can’t bring back everyone who was hurt in this war, and you can’t bring back your mother, but together, the two-, three of us can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“I’d like that,” Katara exhaled, her breath calming down and tears dissipating. The two spent hours talking back and forth, exchanging the stories of their respective childhoods. Katara learned that Aang had invented several new bending moves and had been a big fan of fruit pies, while Aang learned that Katara had always been the bossier one between her and Sokka and that she had almost chipped a tooth on seal jerky when she was six. They continued talking back and forth in increasingly hushed tones until the world faded away under the cover of clouds and sleep.

Katara awoke to the loud shout of her brother. 

“Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” he yelped, chucking a rock-hard stick of seal jerky at both of them. 

“Ouch, Sokka !” Katara snapped at him, rubbing her head at the spot where she had been hit, before realising that she was leaning against Aang and immediately jumping away, blushing furiously. 

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

as a fanfic writer from this point on all of my characters canonically own a cyber-truck. sorry guys idk what to tell you it's just canon now