PSA For All My Fanfic Writers- CONSIDER USING NOTION AS AN ORGANIZATION SYSTEM FOR WRITING!!

for those who might be wondering what katara's outfit & jewelry looks like in my new regency-era kataang fic "so i will go to secret gardens in my mind" <3

waiting patiently for a new golden era of jazz. when will i finally get to walk into the club in a pair of dancing shoes and be spun around to the tune of a sexy as fuck saxophone solo

no love story trope will ever hit quite as hard as "two traumatized teens (often) with unique abilities who are forced to save the world each help the other shoulder the burden of their respective destinies and slowly become each others safe places as they shift from friends to something more."

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

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

 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! ->

In the aviation world, they don't use AM/PM times. Instead, all times are assumed to be AM unless they're labeled NOTAM.

METAR [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

Decoding a METAR Report:

[A METAR report is shown with annotations. The report is:]

METAR KNYC 251600Z 18035G45KT 6SM VCFCFZVA +BLUP NOSIG LTG OHD A3808 RMK A02 SPL130=

[The annotations are:]METAR "METER" (Usually misspelled) KNYC Station ID 251600Z Time (25:16:002) 18035G45KT Wind speed has been 18,035 knots for a good 45 minutes now 6SM Observer is a size 6 small VCFCFZVA Sorry, the station cat walked on the keyboard +BLUP Weird noise the sky made earlier NOSIG Observer has no significant other :( LTG OHD We overheard someone saying there was lightning A3808 Hey look, an Airbus A380-800! RMK Remarkable! A02 Fanfic Archive equipped with a precipitation sensor SPL130= Observer got sleepy around 1:30

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. 

⊹  ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖  ⌬ ⋆   ༘ ⚛︎ ⊹ ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖

♥ 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˗

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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! ->

hi, i'm quill! welcome to my fanfiction & writing blog<3

get to know me:

hii lovelies!!! my pronouns are she/her, and i'm a writer who's only started writing on ao3 as of somewhat recently (i.e. this year).

if you want to say hi or chat about a shared interest, i'm always happy to answer asks & dms, so just send me a lil message:)<3

navigation:

#quillthrillsatlafic = atla-related fanfic!!

#quillthrillsatlatalk = me ranting abt atla hehe:)

#quillthrillsart= my art posts!!

#quillthrillsyapping = me yapping hehe

and #quillthrillsgenfic = any assorted fics for fandoms i don't write super consistently in!

♥ here's my ATLA masterlist ->

♥ and you can check out my ao3 works here! happy reading<3 ->

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. The two are finally free from all the responsibilities placed upon them by the war and the world- now, loving one another no longer means neglecting their sense of duty.

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.

---

For a moment, in his still dream-addled mind, Aang wondered what he had done to wake up this way, only to have the memories rush back the moment his fingers lightly grazed the marks. For the first time in technically a century, a looming deadline of responsibility and unfulfillable promises wasn’t hanging over him.

Had it really only been yesterday when he and his friends had saved the world?

---

He remembered seeing that Katara was okay and feeling the relief so intensely that it felt as though it had reached his soul. Holding her for probably a couple seconds too long. Not wanting to let go, out of relief that she hadn’t been hurt.

---

From his place on the floor, bending a sphere of air for Momo to play with, Aang watched his friends bicker over Sokka’s drawing of them and felt so overwhelmed with emotion that he could hardly contain it. He had needed to grow up so quickly in the last year, all of them had. War had pushed them so far- each of them had lost so much, and yet, they could still smile. Could live in the peaceful world they deserved. That Aang would now be able to help create. 

Aang felt tears prick his eyes as he wondered what Gyatso would say if he had seen what Aang had done. If he knew that Aang finally stopped running from destiny. 

---

He turned to look at her, and spirits , she took his breath away. She pulled him in, and he wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her neck, savouring in the reminder that she was okay , that they were okay , that they would have time now.

---

Guru Pathik was insane, absolutely crazy, for thinking anyone could ever choose cosmic energy over this girl. 

---

When Katara had excused herself early, saying that she had to grab a few things, Aang waited until she left the hall before jumping up from his seat.

“I have to- uh- um- A-Avatar things. To grab, from, from my room? And I should probably- uh- check on Appa. See how the, um, sleeping on the balcony… went?”

“...Mhm.” Toph deadpanned, “Sure, Twinkletoes. Just in case you were wondering, Miss Sugar Queen’s on her way to the gardens right now. You can catch up with her if you take the stairs to your left and make a couple of turns.” She elbowed Aang, hard enough to crack a rib or two. “Go get her, tigerdillo.”

---

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. It wasn’t the time, no matter how much I wanted it to be.” He bit his lip nervously, then reached for her hands, pulling them between the two. The water she had been bending splashed back down into her lap, and after she gave a startled giggle, Aang helped her bend the droplets of water from her skirt. He took her hands in his once more, caressing her skin gently with his fingertips. 

“But… now could be that time. If you wanted it to be.” He breathed the words, looking into her shining, ocean-blue eyes.

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

THIS IS NOW POSTEDDDD 😚 HOPE U ENJOY THE NEW FIC <3

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:) ->

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