Call Me Lady Whistledown The Way I Be Writing Fanfiction Secretly And Telling No One Irl Out Of Shame

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i've always said that late teens aang would absolutely give flirty silly goofy flynn rider energy and now i've written an entire kataang fanfic to support my delusions.

my last promo post had all the actually serious and eye-catching moments, so for this one, i just put together all the moments that i found fun:)<3 enjoy some silly excerpts from "all at once, everything is different," AKA kataangled!!!

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“Stop where you are, Avatar,” Prince Sokka shouted, his voice echoing between trees over the sound of his horse, Hawky. 

The Captain of the Royal Guard, General Toph, did not use nearly as formal language. “When I catch you, you lily livered-” 

“Can’t hear you over the sound of Appa outrunning the both of you!” Aang crowed triumphantly, leaning forward to pat the white and grey horse on his arrow-addorred head. On his shoulder, his monkey-lemur, Momo, chittered his agreement, sticking out his tongue at Sokka as he tauntingly waved a small satchel of bean-curd puffs at the prince.

“Toph, are you seeing this?” Sokka’s tone was irate, utterly incredulous. “The little thief’s rat thing took my lunch!”

“‘Little thief?” Aang clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I have a formal title, y’know. Or have you both gotten so haughty and royal that you can’t show a commoner any respect?”

Toph snarled, the earth reaching up to meet her as she strode after Aang, cutting through stone and dirt as if it were a still pool. “I’ll give you my respect once you earn it, twinkle toes, and you certainly won't if you keep running from us like this.”

Aang twisted to face them, assuming a meditative stance as he cocked his head teasingly, his tone mockingly pouty. “But I’m just so good at it!”

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“Did you see which way they went?” From the sound of his voice, Sokka was both irritated and incredibly embarrassed. 

“No.” Toph’s voice was flat, utterly unaffected. “Obviously, I didn’t see which way they went.”

An awkward silence passed as what Sokka had said sunk in.

“Oh. Right. Um, my bad, Toph.”

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“Hey, I don’t know who you are, or where I am, if I’m being entirely honest. I genuinely don’t mean to intrude. I was just hoping for a place to lie low. I happen to be…” he trailed off, coughing awkwardly. “On the run from the law, it seems.”

Katara cocked a brow, her tone incredulous. “You expect me to willingly harbour a criminal?”

“You seemed to have no problem with trapping one in your house.” Aang huffed, crossing his arms. “And I’m not some common criminal. I’m a monk. It was more of a steal-bread-to-feed-the-hungry type situation, if you can believe that. And I do have a name, beyond “thief” or “mysterious but devilishly handsome home invader.” It’s Aang.”

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It took Aang a day longer than expected, and the moment Aang saw Katara’s face brighten at the sight of him, he absolutely refused to let it go.

“You really did miss me, didn’t you?”

Katara refused to respond, but to Aang, her silence spoke volumes. 

“Awe, you really did,” He grinned, reaching to ruffle the top of her head as she swatted at his hands. 

“Even if I did miss you-”

“-you did.” Aang interrupted. 

“Which I didn’t ,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

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Now, standing on the precipice of going against almost every single one of her mother’s wishes, she was beginning to get cold feet. Perhaps Aang could read that in her face, or maybe he just felt like messing with her, because when she hesitated for a few moments longer, he simply pulled her over his shoulder, racing toward the river that pooled by the edge of the clearing, as Katara giggled wildly.

“What are you doing ?” She managed between laughs.

“Grass seemed too scary, so I figured I might as well reconnect you with your birth element.”

“ Aang .” Her voice grew flat as she put two and two together. “Aang! Do not throw me in the-”

“Too late!” He crowed, jumping into the deep end, still clinging onto her.

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“We have to get you to a hospital, Aang. I don’t want to risk reopening the wound. Kissing can wait.”

“No, it cannot ,” Aang declared decidedly, dipping her low as he pulled her in again. “19 years was long enough to wait without ever kissing you. Now is the time for kissing.”

“Now is the time for the hospital .”

Aang wrinkled his nose, brutally offended at Katara’s prioritisation of his health. She relented, a soft smile spreading across her lips, as she pulled him in gently, kissing him again. 

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♥ feel free to check out the entirety of this fic & my ao3 here! ->

love when academic articles are a little silly and goofy. like yes that IS a bee. dumb fuck. lets label him so everybody can point and laugh.

"why are you so quiet, what's on your mind?"

"oh, nothing, just aang admiring katara without realizing he's in love with her"

guys, i am SO excited for tomorrow's new chapter of "the teenager in the iceberg" there's gonna be some great moment & generally im excited to start progressing past the first few episodes

here's a teaser excerpt!

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Sokka immediately jumped off, almost kissing the sand in relief, and Aang followed close behind. Katara moved to stand up and join them, but a combination of that nerve-sick feeling and a bit of light-headedness had her slipping a little, stumbling off the saddle. She would’ve landed face-first in the sand, but Aang smoothly caught her with a current of air, then offered a hand. 

Once she was safe on the ground, Katara blushed, embarrassed that she’d lost her balance that easily. She moved to tell Aang, only to have Sokka take one look at her and burst out laughing. 

“What?!” She snapped, suddenly overly self-conscious.

“Your hair!” He cackled, a shaking finger pointing at her. Confused, Katara reached out her hand to draw a tendril of water from the cold morning sea. She concentrated, forming it first into a sphere and then a flat oval, then stilled the water so that she could see her reflection…

Only to drop the water in surprise when she finally saw what Sokka was talking about. Her carefully done hair was snarled around in its braids,  bits of it loose and bits of it still intact. She huffed in annoyance, then fished out a small glass mirror and her hairbrush. 

“Aang,” she said distractedly, “could you hold this for me?” She handed him the mirror. 

“Y-yeah, no problem.”

She tugged out her hair ties, flipping her head upside down for a moment to make sure that it had all gotten loose, then she gingerly tugged a few tendrils of water from the nearby ocean and wrapped tiny streams around her hair, tugging out the crimped braid pattern and reviving her curls. Then, she carefully bent the remaining liquid back out. 

She couldn’t see his face through her thick hair as she stood back up, but from his voice, Aang seemed impressed. “I get that you haven’t been able to learn any big combat moves, but for someone whose bending is self- taught, you sure have a pretty good handle on these smaller things.”

She properly flipped her head up now, curls and waves bouncing around her face. Her dark brown locks shone with honey-toned highlights, all different shades of caramel and chocolate sparkling as they framed her face. She reached up, gently twisting and clipping a few strands out of the way, but a few wayward pieces still fell forward, gently brushing against soft, full lips and smooth skin. Aang awkwardly froze for a moment, caught off guard by how different she looked when her hair was loose and free. He had a weird urge to tell her so, but bit his tongue, instead focusing on her answer. 

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

we all agree that aang would absolutely try to make katara a betrothal necklace, right? and we all agree that he would... definitely not get it right on the first try?

꩜ an excerpt from "i'd marry you with paper rings": ꩜

Monkeyfeathers .

Aang cursed softly under his breath, scrambling to straighten out the fabric under his fingers. Already, his fingertips were stained with the lychee nut, moon peaches, and plums he’d used to dye the scraps of fabric before him, and already, his fingertips had been pin pricked with needles over and over again. Sokka had reasoned that jewellery making couldn’t be as difficult as bringing an end to a war that had spanned nearly a century, and yet, here Aang was, seriously considering using firebending to burn every one of his terrible attempts at a proposal necklace that he was sure would horrify any member of either Water tribe. 

That thought, however harrowing, was not enough to stop him from sighing profusely, carefully picking up his latest attempt, and shuffling sleepily over to Sokka, who had passed out hours ago, and had looked increasingly irritated with each attempt of Aang’s to wake him up.

“Hey,” Aang whispered in a hushed tone, “Hey! Psst. Sokka. Sokka. Sokka-”

“What?” Sokka hissed, his eyes shooting open.

“What about this one?” Aang dangled it in front of him, the pale blue stone catching the divots of Aang’s admittedly shoddy craftsmanship. Despite the Airbender’s best efforts, each of his attempts at etching symbols on the smooth surface had ended in pigeon- chicken scratches and wayward lines. He thought that perhaps this one looked a little bit smoother, but as it sparkled with moonlight, illuminating the primitive, childish markings, Aang felt himself wince involuntarily at the sight. 

Sokka pulled himself up onto his forearms, peering down through eyes thick with sleep at the necklace Aang had laid along his palm. A moment passed as he scrunched up his eyebrows, tipping his head incredulously. “Why did Momo make Katara a betrothal necklace?”

“Spirits, I’m screwed.” Aang slapped his hand to his head, leaving behind an angry red mark. “It’s awful.”

Sokka, who had gotten used to trying to talk Aang up over the last few days, did his best to pacify him. “It’s not awful .” Sokka, naturally, was lying through his teeth. He was rather certain that were his waterbending ancestors to ever see Aang’s attempts at replicating a traditional water tribe proposal, Katara would almost certainly be plagued by dreams filled with spirits begging her to reconsider wedding such an incompetent carver.

“It’s unforgivable.” Aang sighed dramatically, turning his gaze over his shoulder to the quickly growing pile of failed attempts he had accumulated over the last few days.

“Mm.” Aang whirled back at Sokka, his eyebrows creased as Sokka decidedly didn’t disagree. “Only a little.”

Aang brightened, just a bit. “I’ll ask Zuko.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Zuko is not qualified to tell how awful that is. The only time he’s seen a proposal necklace is when he stole Katara's for a few weeks, back when he was hunting us.”

Ignoring Sokka entirely, Aang crawled over to Zuko, dangling the necklace in front of the sleeping boy’s face. “Psst. Zuko. Zuko . Zuko-” 

“This is awful.” Zuko’s words were flat as he rolled over, his tone brutally honest and characteristically direct. “I want to burn it.”

꩜ - i'd marry you with paper rings, quillthrills on ao3 ꩜

NOTE: i was inspired by the original 2012 minicomic with the same premise by @ngoziu. check it out here <3

Aang's official description made me tear up

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︵‿presenting...quill's kataang week!‿︵

︵‿︵︵‿︵︵day two: protectiveness/ bodyguard︵‿︵︵‿︵︵

︵‿︵︵︵‿︵︵‿‿hosted by @kataang-week︵‿︵︵︵‿︵︵‿‿

summary:

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.

:D the following are excerpts from "all at once, everything is different, now that i see you":

In all of her eighteen years of gazing out into the same meadow, the same night sky, Katara had never quite managed to piece together why every year, on her birthday, the night sky came alight with glowing lanterns in hues of soft silver and blue. As much as it tugged at her, she didn’t mind the element of mystery too much. After all, a girl who grows up never leaving the confines of her tower is a girl used to looking out into a world of mysteries. Katang spent her days pouring over old scrolls, gleaning bits and pieces about the world from what she could see through her window.

To be entirely honest, it wasn’t all that much. A modest meadow, a bubbling brook, the occasional frog-squirrel or cat deer. Still, it was more than enough for her to feel utterly enchanted by. Each and every time that an animal walked by, Katara would imagine how it would feel to be one of those wild things, chained to nothing, bound by your own will. 

Katara certainly wasn’t.

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Aang made quick work of the tower walls, the uneven brick providing natural foot and handholds as he scaled the rough, mossy stone. When he finally reached the summit of the spire, he heaved himself over, his breath rough as he dusted off his palms. He tugged off his thin overshift, revealing his one-shouldered monk’s robes as he did. Aang scratched his neck absentmindedly as he took in his surroundings. He was surprised to see that the tower was furnished, lived-in, even. He recognized waterbending forms painted on most of the walls. There were even lit candles softly flickering away in various nooks and crannies, casting warm light over the room.

Wait. Alarm bells rang in Aang’s mind, urging him to further examine the situation he had found himself in.

  If the tower is abandoned, then who lit the-

The next sound he heard was a deafening thunk as a thin sword buried itself in the wall next to his head, leaving a deep cut along the shell of his ear. 

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She wanted a reason to snap back, to make some snide comment, but Aang’s eyes were so open, his expression so… trustable that she simply couldn’t stomach it. 

Katara knew that should’ve been telling him to leave. She should’ve asked him to apologise, to be on his way. In all her years of solitude, she’d never dreaded being alone, but something about Aang leaving and her never being able to see him again sent a pang of something like homesickness straight through her. 

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“I see that you need time to process all of this.” Aang stood, his eyes shining with sympathy that only made Katara feel more guilty over how heartbroken Mother Hama would be were she to find out about her new doubts. “I’m happy to give that to you.” She trailed like a ghost behind him as he strode to the window, tugging a wooden glider from his back before standing atop the edge of the terrace, grinning at her softly as she clung shyly to the carvings of the doorway. “And I understand that you don’t know me, that you have no real reason to believe me.”

He turned to the side, saluting her teasingly. “So I’ll be back, same time tomorrow, so that we can get to know one another a bit better.”

“Aang!” She shouted, rushing to the edge of the terrace as he snapped open his glider, plunging downwards. “No, you will not .”

“I can’t hear you! But I totally agree! I’m looking forward to it as well!” His whoops echoed through the field as he did a couple loop-de-loops. 

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Aang stepped through her window, right on schedule, with an injury he claimed he had gotten while sparring, Katara’s only response was the word “Again?” 

“Hey, If being injured is what it takes for you to let me stay even a few minutes longer, I’ll take it.” Aang grinned, shrugging as he tugged up the end of his top to reveal the bruises patterning his ribs. Katara did her best to focus on the injury itself, and not the muscle rippling over Aang’s side, as she settled into the stool next to him, leaning over to run her hands over the purple-and-blue skin. “I like your company.”

I like you. The response materialised in Katara’s mind before she could suppress it, and the longer it sat there, the more right it felt. I like you.

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“So, what else does a thief carry with him in his bag?” Katara had been strangely curious about what Aang considered precious enough to carry around with him in his satchel, but after fishing through playing cards and a set of spinning marbles he’d been very proud of, her interest was considerably less piqued.

“Oh, I don’t think I ever got a chance to explain what I took to end up in your tower.” Aang fished around until he tugged out a velvet box, passing it over to her with both hands. He continued on, talking about the castle security and his plans to pawn the necklace to feed and house children displaced by the ongoing conflict with the Fire Nation, but his words faded away as Katara opened the box.

I know you.

There, nestled in silk, was a pale blue pendant on a deep blue velvet ribbon. Just looking at it for a moment was enough for her to feel entirely off balance. Vague memories hit her, one after the other, of looking up at a ceiling of moon symbols carved in diamond, a hanging mobile of seals and icebergs. The ornate arches of a castle, the corridors and gardens of a grand estate. 

I know you.

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The world tilted, and suddenly, neither Katara’s will, nor her body, were her own.

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♥ feel free to check out the entirety of this fic & my ao3 here! ->

to see the rest of the kataang week submissions from the other extremely talented and lovely members of this community, head over to @kataang-week :)<3 thank u so much to the wonderful mods for making all of this possible!

mai is a lovergirl forced into the body of a hater and you can't tell me otherwise... c'mon, her smile when she's in her feels??? beautiful girl.

link to original post (by@ribbed-vault-heart) here :)

born to say "haiiii >~<" forced to say "hey 🗿 zuko here 👋🏻"

i keep thinking about in book 2 when zuko was like horrifyingly happy after he got ovdr his fever and imagining if people saw him like that

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

i like them