The Gaang But Its A Band - Blog Posts
the gaang...as an indie rock band....? kataang, where aang's only way of confessing his feelings is by writing katara a love song....? 😏
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i present to you, excerpts from my new one-shot: Well, My (Not-Yet) Boyfriend's In A Band
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Aang winced, shielding himself with his drumsticks as he walked into Sokka and Katara’s garage almost a full half-hour later than their agreed-upon rehearsal time, as if the two thin pieces of wood could protect him from the combined side-eye of his friends. Even Toph, who regularly rolled in ages after rehearsal had started with a tea in her hand from Uncle Iroh’s, was shooting him a glare, which is how Aang knew he’d really messed up. He ducked his head into the entranceway, silently cursing himself for being just a bit too tall for the garage doorway.
Katara shifted from her position against the opposing doorframe, where she had been judgmentally leaning as she echoed the look in Toph’s eyes. “Aang…”
He threw up his hands in preemptive defence, words tumbling one after the other from his mouth. “I know! I know, I know I’m late,” he tugged his high-top converse off awkwardly, stashing his skateboard in the usual crevice he leaned it against. “But I swear, it’s for a good reason.”
“It better be,” Toph scoffed. “I blew off homework to come here.”
“Toph, you wouldn't have done the homework either way.”
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“I can feel you glaring at me, Zuko.” Toph smirked, then turned back to Aang. “You’ve been rustling around in your pockets for a while now, you sure you’re not stalling for a good reason on why you were late?”
“It is a good reason. Look!” Aang finally managed to tug out the crumpled piece of paper from his cargo pocket, unfurling it for Toph to see.
Silence filled the room, and then, in a tone laced so much with sarcasm that it was hard to tell when the tone stopped and the sarcasm began, Toph said flatly. “Well, it sounds like a piece of paper, but I assume you’re referring to what’s on the paper. Way to taunt a blind girl, Aang.”
“I-I didn’t mean, I-” Aang stuttered awkwardly, his cheeks flushing an embarrassed shade of pink.
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“The only problem,” Aang added, “Is that the songs can’t be covers. We have to write something original. The idea of the music festival is to spotlight new young voices in indie rock.”
The others exchanged sidelong glances. “I’m sure that we can write something.” Sokka said with finality. “How hard can it be?”
Hours later, Sokka was sprawled on the couch, head stuffed between the dove grey cushions as he groaned at their utter lack of progress. Katara was perched on the arm of the couch, biting her lip as she tried to run through lyric ideas in her mind. Toph was (very un-subtly) preparing for a nap, curled up in the room’s vintage armchair, while Zuko paced with a hand on his chin, lost in thought.
Unsurprisingly, the five of them had discovered that writing original music does, in fact, require both skill and inspiration, something none of them felt they had at the moment.
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“What about a love song?” Zuko suggested.
“Ick, oogies!” Sokka yelped from his position next to the mini fridge as he pulled out a pair of sodas. He moved as though he was going to throw one to Toph, then thought better of it and just gently placed it next to her as he sat.
“You have a girlfriend, Sokka.” Zuko pointed out as Sokka settled next to him.
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“Aang, this is, this is great!”
“I like it.” Zuko nodded.
“Would someone please put text-to-speech on?”
“Let me read it out loud.” Sokka said, apologetically. “My bad, Toph."