My #1 Tip For Making The Workday Go Faster At Ur Minimum Wage Service Job Is To Pretend You Are Cinderella

atom eve <3 just finished s1 of invincible

You’re telling me this ISN’T what happened in season 1 episode 1????

Is it hypocritical for Aang to be the one to call Zuko bald when he is objectively balder? Yes. Was this really funny to me? Also yes. God may forgive you for not capturing the avatar, but NO ONE will forgive you for that fuckass ponytail.

definition of 🤨 & 🙂

Let’s make this scene from Invincible into a meme template, lol.

what poetry. such prose. idk why i'm writing these gems for free on ao3 when i'm clearly destined to be one of the great authors of our generation 🙄

IT'S OUT!! check out chapter 5, which is a whopping 6,806 words, HERE!

i'm writing in jealous aang AND a sparring scene in the upcoming ch of "the teenager in the iceberg"- y'all kataang stans are eating GOOOOODDD 🤭

in order to placate you lovelies, enjoy a couple short & sweet excerpts!!!

also, i love the way that tiny aang in the header looks like he's desperately trying to seperate jet and katara 😭🤍

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Sokka rose, crossing his arms as his expression shifted to anger. “The traps are Fire Nation. You can tell from the metalwork- no other tribes can achieve seams this flawless without the aid of a Firebender that can bend blue flame.”

Aang’s nose wrinkled as he gently landed next to Katara. “What do the firebenders want with these forest animals?”

“We won’t be sticking around long enough to find out.” Sokka said decisively as the three began to walk back to where they’d left Appa. “As the leader, I say we get walking AQAP.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “AQAP?”

“It means As Quickly As Possible.” Sokka recited the acronym as if it was obvious. “It’s a more efficient method of communication. I call them ‘short-word-quick-talkers.’ Trust me, they’re gonna be very popular.”

Katara and Aang side-eyed one another sceptically before falling into step behind Sokka. 

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Katara bent a stream of water from the bottle strapped to her hip, then carefully sent a water-whip straight for their fire, silently proud at how much her late-night practice sessions had allowed her to improve. “Who says you’re qualified to be the boss, all of a sudden?”

“I’m not the boss, I’m the leader.”

Katara scoffed incredulously. “You’re the leader?”

“Naturally.” Sokka puffed out his chest like a peacock pigeon. “I’m the oldest.”

Aang raised an eyebrow, grinning teasingly. “Sokka, I’ve been around for over a century. I have training robes that are older than you.”

Sokka deflated slightly, his shoulders slouching before he managed a retort. “Well, I’m wiser, then. And I have instincts.”

“Ooh, instincts.” Katara wiggled her fingers at him, her voice filled with fake awe. “Please, oh wise leader, share with us your wisdom.”

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“Down you go,” Jet grinned, self-satisfied and authoritative in his stance. Katara beamed back, her lips parted in an amazed expression, while Aang and Sokka’s features quickly settled into irritation. Before long, an archer and a few other kids dropped from the trees surrounding them, and both Aang and Katara jumped into the fray in response alongside the mismatched gang of weapon-slinging kids. Sokka joined in, his irritation visibly rising as Jet took down each soldier before Sokka could even get close to being in range.

“You snooze you loose, man,” Jet shrugged, his hooks snagging on a man who had been about to grab Katara. “Apologise to the lady.” He smirked, then kicked the man hard, dropping him to the side.

“I had her,” Aang grumbled under his breath, occupied with bending currents of wind to sweep soldiers out of the clearing. Katara furrowed her brow at Aang’s irritation, but decided to note it as something to ask about later. Finally, the remaining soldiers scampered out of the clearing in retreat, their shouts and yelps echoing through the forest. Katara still couldn’t take her eyes off of Jet. He sauntered over to her, a roguish grin on his face as he spoke.

“Hey.” He tossed his hair as he said it, his grin directed entirely at her now, and Katara felt a soft blush spread across her cheeks as she looked up at him. She broke her gaze only to check that Aang and Sokka were okay, and as she looked across the field to Aang…

Was she imagining it, or was his jaw clenching? Was she imagining it, or was his normally approachable expression shifting into a deadpan stare?

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His gaze flicked from Jet to Katara, to the brush brushing her cheeks, the soft smile of her full lips. He was hit by the thought that he wanted to be there, next to her, in Jet’s place.

What was it about Katara that made Aang feel as though he could only breathe when she was around? 

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Katara was too caught up in her Jet-related nerves to notice the way that Aang’s breathing was coming more quickly, that his fists were quickly clenching and unclenching. She walked towards Aang, who was joined by Sokka, only for Aang’s eyes to flit away every time they met hers. She reached out an arm reflexively, her hand lightly brushing Aang’s bicep as her brow furrowed in concern.

“Are you alright?”

His eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite read, and his jaw clenched before he spoke. “I’m sorry, Katara, I just… I need a minute. My judgement is…impaired, right now."

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He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Would you… would you care to join me for sparring practice, tomorrow morning? Might help you feel a bit safer next time you need to face off against Fire Nation swine.”

Katara smiled back. “I’d like that.” Jet continued to regale her with stories of all he and his fighters had accomplished as of late, but Katara found herself distracted, her gaze wandering over his shoulder every now and then.

It was not lost on her that Aang’s light had stayed on and his curtains drawn until Jet had returned her to her room for the night.

♥ if you want to stick around for this ch to drop, feel free to head over to the work here! ->

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Of all the battles he had fought as the Avatar, all the struggles through which he had prevailed, Aang thought that perhaps parenthood was his life’s true proudest achievement. He’d known from the moment Katara had found out that they’d be parents that she’d be a wonderful mother, but he’d be lying if he said that he had been entirely confident in his own abilities.

---

Despite the many hats he had to wear for work, he always made a point of coming home to Katara as much as he possibly could. What was being the Avatar for, if not to use his abilities to race home to the love of his life?

---

Their third child, Tenzin, had immediately been identified as an airbender by Aang. He told Katara that he could just feel it, he could see it in the way his son moved through the air , waving his hands as if the oxygen itself was a tangible thing he could touch. As Bumi grew up, it was clear that he would be much more calm and stern than his two rambunctious siblings, perhaps in an unconscious attempt to balance them out.

Aang taught him the airbending traditions the same way he continued to teach Tenzin’s siblings-  he brought the three, along with Katara when she could take a break from work, to the air temples to aid in their restoration. He taught Tenzin the airbending forms, but he taught him in a group, with his other two siblings. For Kya, the airbending forms were applicable to her own waterbending, and for Bumi, they were a way for him to better understand the flow of chi through the body and calm his energetic nature. 

---

“Do you think they’re going to turn out alright?” Katara asked, and both pride and nervousness were present in her tone. “Are we doing a good job?”

Aang smiled softly at her, wrapping his arm around her smaller frame. “For a couple with only one parent between the two of us, I think we’re doing alright.”

Katara’s only response was a laugh and a splash of water to his face from the water she carried at her hip. She carefully bent it back into the bottle.

“They’re doing wonderfully.” Aang looked into the courtyard, where Kya and Bumi were locked in the mud, Kya bending mud-balls and Bumi throwing them back at her, while Tenzin tried in vain to get between them. “We have beautiful kids, Katara. Beautiful souls, too. The air nomad culture will live through them. It doesn’t matter if just Tenzin is an airbender- what the nomads would have wanted to be passed on is their way of life .”

♥ check out the rest of the (completed) fic & my ao3 here! ->

and is it silly that i thought up the phrase "kataangled" and immediately felt like a genuis??? pls tell me i came up with this because i was devastated when i found out the phrase kataangst was not a unique thought or idea of mine 😔

guys it is going to be like two days late atp because i last minute got indescisive and started some heavy editing, but my fic for kataang week day two (the protectiveness prompt) is a rapunzel tangled AU where katara= rapunzel and aang= flynn rider and i am so beyond excited to share it with you lovely ppl!!!

why did i confidently read the mark one as "what i'm gonna do to you tonight's gonna leave an invincible" 😭😭

Invincible valentine cards I made

has anyone ever wondered just how different aang and zuko's first battle would be if aang had been frozen at age 16...?

the following is an excerpt from my draft of ch2 of my new fanfic, "the teenager in the iceberg" on ao3. happy reading!!!

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Because before she could speak, before Aang could speak, horns blared through the crisp air outside. Horns the entire village knew, horns that prompted screams from children. 

Another Fire Nation raid.

Aang didn’t pause, didn’t let himself hesitate. Katara didn’t blame him. She was sure that if he thought about it for more than a few moments, he’d crumble entirely, and considering the situation they were now in, they couldn’t afford for Aang to sort through everything.

Katara didn’t realise how dire a situation it was until the three of them had reached the gates to the village, and Katara watched as the hull broke through centuries old ice as if it were butter. Sokka ran ahead as the bow of the ship split open in a rush of steam and machinery. Katara felt the blood drain from her face as she saw who stepped out. The Fire Nation prince. The one who had been scarred by his own father. He was here, in her village. Terror began to set in.

Prince Zuko wrinkled his nose at Sokka as though he was nothing more than an inanimate obstacle in his way, and shoved him aside, his soldiers following suit. 

“I have come here for the Avatar. For my honour,” Zuko snarled, his words a sharp, lethal weapon. “I know he’s here. I saw his beacon. He should be an older man? Master of all four elements?” His eyes swept through the crowd, passing right over Aang as his gaze narrowed on Gran and the other village elders. Katara felt Aang tense beside her.

With no warning, Zuko and his soldiers blasted a wave of fire straight for the grandmothers and grandfathers who had huddled together. 

And their fire was met by a gust of wind so powerful that it sucked the very oxygen out of the air, extinguishing their flame before it got anywhere near their targets. 

Zuko whirled around, his voice contorting in anger at the sight of Aang, standing tall and proud with his staff in one hand and a constantly spinning sphere of wind in the other. 

“You?” Zuko spat, seething. “I’ve trained for years to face the Avatar. You’re just a teenager.”

Aang, somewhat caught off guard, leaned back, raising an eyebrow in confusion, a teasing grin on his face once he’d realised that he’d managed to bother the Fire Prince himself. 

“...S- so are you...?"

Zuko straightened, fire flaring in his eyes, his fists tightening as the air around them began to sizzle and steam. “A child. A child managed to outmanoeuvre me. A mere boy was running circles around the entire crew I command for years.”

“No, a teenager. C’mon, give me my credit, I had a whole growth spurt and everything, do I really still look like a child to you?” Aang put on a falsely sincere tone, venom behind his words as he bent his knees and tensed his body into a defensive stance. “You hurt this village, or its people, and you’ll see just how much more than ‘just a teenager’ I am.”

Zuko scoffed, fire again lighting up his palm. “Big talk for a pacifist monk.”

“Sure, as a monk, I won’t start a fight.” Aang grinned. “But I can finish them.”

---

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

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?

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˗ˏˋ fic summary: ˎˊ˗

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

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

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ꜱᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀɪᴇ ᴄᴜʀɪᴇ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄꜱ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ

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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˗