gnawing at the bars of my enclosure rn
I finished these two sketches too!
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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.
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˗ˏˋ sneak peak: ˎˊ˗
As she stormed up the stairs to the TA coordination overseer’s office, Elsie thought to herself that this was perhaps the most anger she had ever allowed herself to feel in all twenty-one years of her life thus far. Worse than her flare of irritation at Ceecee months before for allowing her evil spikeball to eat the rare cheese collection Elsie had sprung for as a self-gifted birthday present, certainly worse than that time when that same spiny ball of fury had taken a midday nap on the seat of her office chair, and somehow, worse than the fateful publication in Annals of Theoretical Physics that had undermined her future field of study entirely for years to come.
Yes, all of that certainly paled in comparison to the events that had been set into motion only days before when she had, naively and idiotically, she might add, assumed that becoming an undergraduate TA in the last year of her degree could lead to nothing but good things. A boost on her grad school applications? Check. The ability to endow the incoming freshmen with a lifelong love and passion for physics? Double check. Co-TA-ing with the absolute blight on theoretical physics that was Jack Smith Turner? Who also happened to be six and a half feet of unfairly cruel gorgeousness? Who also also had sealed his fate as her sworn enemy since the faithful day he’d taken the last first-row seat in their Physics 110 class?
Unfortunately, quintuple-check, which is why she was currently storming up the stairs to the TA coordination center, only footsteps behind said long-legged perpetual thorn in her side.
“It isn’t too late to give up and turn around, Jack,” Elsie huffed, mentally making a note to join Cece on her early-morning runs more often as she charged forward, propelled by pure indignation alone. “This is my TA spot, and we both know it.”
“Elsie, for the last time, there is no reason why we can’t just do this together,” Jack sighed, unfairly calm and unbothered-looking for someone who had remained several steps ahead of her since they’d begun climbing four flights of stairs ago. “The class is too large for one TA. You can’t run labs by yourself, an-”
“Oh, I can’t run labs by myself?” Elsie seethed, her rage peaking more steeply than a displacement verses time graph with increasing velocity- a concept that she could certainly teach better than this elitist theoretical-physics-invalidator-robot masquerading as a science undergraduate. Typically, she would never allow herself to snap at anyone the way she was now, but there was something about Jack that single-handedly managed to unravel every last one of her meticulously curated alternate personalities, and she hated him with the fire of a thousand Wolf-Rayet stars for it. The logical part of her brain knew that more likely than not, Jack was only intending to point out the obvious- that a class of two hundred plus only one TA would undoubtedly lead to disaster regardless of said TA’s competence- but something about his tone, so smooth and careful and goddamn patronizing was enough for her to allow her irritation to show quite plainly.
“Elsie, you and I both know that’s not what I meant.” Jack groaned, halting in front of her to hold open the door, and Elsie had to bite her tongue to hold back her thanks. As she stormed through ahead of him, she thought that she saw his eyes lock onto her face for a moment, his gaze rapt with attention. His next words were a bit softer, more likely than not an attempt to placate her into not begging the coordinator to remove him from the course. “You’re smarter than deliberate misinterpretations.”
Elsie couldn’t quite think of a sufficiently snappy response. She settled on, “You don’t know that,” which was admittedly not exactly her best scathing retort.
“I’d like to think I do.”
Elsie paused at the note of sincerity, her eyes flicking back to meet his, which hadn’t left her since she’d passed him at the door. “If I have even a little bit of luck, which unfortunately seems unlikely considering that I’ve been assigned to TA a year-long class with the guy that tried to delegitimize my entire field of interest when he was seventeen, you’ll never know me well enough to confirm or deny that.” Elsie’s voice was cold now, any hint of teasing gone, and with that, she pivoted sharply. If she had cared enough to see his response, she would have seen his face falling for a fraction of a second before he re-composed himself, steeling his expression once more.
After bickering back and forth for some time in the hallway outside the heavy oak door over which of the two would plead their case first, the TA coordinator on duty (who happened to be a very underpaid and understandably irritated graduate student volunteer) eventually shouted through the door that the two of them could come in together or flirt somewhere she wasn’t. Shuddering at the thought of seeing Jack in any sort of romantic light, Elsie had pushed open the door first, with Jack hot on her heels.
After only five minutes of the pair repeatedly cutting off one another and glaring vehemently at each other, the coordinator cut through their chatter with a single raised finger and a glare that entirely silenced both of them more effectively than the mute button on a remote.
“Enough, please.” The coordinator, whose name according to her desk sign was Ashley, slid her head into her hands in exasperation, her irritation evident. The beads at the end of her blond braids clicked against the thick wooden desk and then her chair as she straightened, facing the two head-on. Her British accent had been more subtle when she had welcomed the pair in, but its increased intensity seemed to be directly correlated with the length of time she spent with the pair. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty-four or twenty-five, but she looked as tired as if she had been dealing with the two for years. “I can’t shuffle the first-year’s TA’s on a whim just because of some…petty rivalry.”
Both Elsie and Jack surged forward, their words overlapping urgently as they attempted to communicate that no, this was very much more serious than a petty rivalry, but both shut up upon seeing the single finger Ashley raised in anticipation of their protest. “It’s not my job to understand the distinction between a petty rivalry and whatever layered conflict the two of you have going on, nor is it my job to mediate said conflict, but it is my job to make sure that this class is staffed. The two of you will be working together, whether you like it or not, so I would suggest making your way to the counselling office instead.” Ashley’s eyes slid between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe they can help you two sort out all this… tension.”
Elsie and Jack, understanding all at once that they had managed to push Ashley to the end of her rope, rose from their seats and shuffled to the door as if they had been put in time-out.
As they began down the hallway, Elsie’s ballet flats clicking sharply against the navy-tiled floor, Elsie swore she heard Ashley add under her breath, “...Or, you two could just hook up already and stop subjecting the rest of us to your weirdo version of flirting.”
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@ever-so-ali i am obsessed with everything you've ever written hopefully i can one day join you on the other end of the fanfic writer -> published author pipeline
pov: all of aang's friends, past lives, and the entirety of the citizens of every single nation trying to convince him to just straight up murder the fire lord
use of this tweet inspired by this post :)
its actually healing my heart that i got into climbing just as i found out that some of the natla cast are also into climbing thats such an adorable coincidence!!!
From Gordon's instagram story
is this enough options now
there are lots of people who've wondered what the gaang as a whole would have been like if they'd been older when they went on their world-altering quest, but... what if just aang was older? what if he had been frozen in his iceberg at age 16, instead of age 12?
for starters, i'm sure it'd change the dynamic between him and katara. maybe she'd look at him differently more quickly, maybe we'd get a bit of a reverse crush? he'd be taller than sokka much earlier on, and when zuko found him, he'd be "just a teenager," not "just a child."
essentially, to recap. ATLA aang aged up AU fic. kataang. where she falls first, and he falls harder.
i present to you... excepts from "the teenager in the iceberg", my newest ao3 fic 🤍
---
Shining blue eyes. Bright robes made up of strips of fabric coloured in shades of sunset they almost never saw down in the Southern tribes.
The most beautiful boy she’d ever seen .
---
“W-Will-” he struggled, the words so hoarse that it was as though he hadn’t used his voice in decades. He cleared his throat, eyes sparkling distractingly, grinning roguishly. “Will you go penguin sledding with me?”
Katara blanched, momentarily caught off guard. She looked back over at Sokka, who had been watching the exchange with narrowed eyes and a suspicious expression as he recrossed his arms over one another.
“I- um-... yes?” she answered, hesitantly, just as Sokka’s voice overlapped hers, yelping the words “She absolutely will not!” Katara shot him a scathing glare as the boy rose to his feet, shaking the snow off of his cloak like a polar-bear dog.
Sokka continued, his voice both indignant and commanding.“We don’t even know your name, Mr. Walking Ice Cube! What were you doing in there? Were you trying to mimic a snow-man and you got too carried away?”
“And you aren’t dressed for the cold,” Katara added appraisingly, giving him a once-over. “You look-”
“Dashingly handsome?” The boy smoothly interjected, accompanied by a grin that felt like it was just for her.
“...Cold.” she said flatly, hoping she wasn’t furiously blushing as she shot him with what she hoped came across as a scathing glare.
---
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.
---
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.
---
“Gran, I want you to meet Aang, he’s-”
“An airbender.” Her grandmother said the words with complete and utter awe. “The last airbender.”
Aang’s nose wrinkled in confusion, his head tilting and mouth opening to ask for clarification, but Gran’s next words stunned him and the rest of the room into silence.
“The Avatar .”
Sokka and Katara’s jaws dropped, both pivoting to face Aang. Katara looked up at him, expecting to see shock and confusion, but she was met with sheepishness as Aang rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
“You are .” Katara breathed. “Spirits, you’re the Avatar.”
physically incapable of shutting up about any ship that is made up of two traumatized teens saving the world from impending doom and falling for one another in the process #sorrynotsorry 😎
"I never understood why Katara was attracted to Aang" you are weak and will not survive the winter
i have been hit with the sudden powerful urge to write a lucy x schroeder fic where she's studying to get into med school for psychiatry
and its like a she falls first he falls harder type scenario where he sees how driven she is when she studies and it reminds him of the way he's driven with piano and its the tipping point for him to fall for her.......... i know starting another wip is a bad idea but the blorbos...they call to me.......❤️
hi!!! i'm quill 🕯an a03 writer trying to figure out an entirely new platform!!she/her
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