me when i write really flirty aang fics and then read them back and giggle and kick my feet
love rereading some of my writing like damn this person really knows how to write that appeals to all the things I personally love
college au
By sheepnishly on ig | lovieaang on twitter. Reposted with permission from the artist.
^ zuko & azula's dynamic summed up perfectly and you can't change my mind
i can't stop thinking about how funny it would be if aunt may was a hairdresser and peter volunteered to pick up one of her shifts because she's been so tired and overworked lately. he assures her that he's totally got it and that if he can build infinite power sources and super suits on a random tuesday afternoon then he can CERTAINLY style hair.
a few hours later and peter cannot get the hair gel to work. no matter how much he applies, hair springs up and falls out of place.
at least, until his gaze drifts to his wrists and he remembers that he has a machine that releases a compound whose entire purpose is being super sticky and strong strapped to his wrist.
webbing is biodegradable, right? he thinks to himself, and is sure that aunt may will be so incredibly proud of how perfectly all the hair he styles is staying in place
,,,,cue the angry line of people whose hair will STILL not budge days later after washing it several times
they really saw the pacifist monk and said this right here is a pure blooded patriotic citizen of the united states of america. somebody get this twelve year old the strongest machine gun we've GOT.
i want to write markeve fic SOOOOOO bad
︵‿︵︵‿︵︵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.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.
“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.
The world tilted, and suddenly, neither Katara’s will, nor her body, were her own.
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!
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 ✩
the MUSIC in the backgrounddd ugh this scene will never ever fail to make me cry. the pure devotion and love in their eyes like CMONNN 😖🤍
the WAYYYYY that they look at each other in this scene is forever going to be my Roman Empire. it actually makes me crazy. everyone else moved on but I never left this moment upon viewing it live fr. altered my brain chemistry forever
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
In love with them♡♡
hi!!! i'm quill 🕯an a03 writer trying to figure out an entirely new platform!!she/her
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