Latest Posts by quillthrillswriting - Page 3

In love with them♡♡

HER LITTLE BLUSH SHE'S SO CUTESY SO BABYGIRL

This trend but it's Dick and Kori

"Do I look like him?"

sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?

yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.

also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"

this idea was originally inspired by the talented @allgremlinart's aged up aang drawings, so please go show them some love!!:)<3

enjoy the excerpts from chapters one and two!

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang chuckled, pushing himself up with his hands on his knees. He was… taller than Katara had realised, taller than Sokka. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, turning to look over his shoulder at the remains of the boulder-sized chunk of ice he had just been blasted out of.  “Aang. My name’s Aang.” He hesitated, momentarily seeming to puzzle something over. “And honestly? No clue. Don’t remember how me and…Appa!” He yelped, suddenly scrambling back over the hill of ice and snow. Katara followed him without thinking, and Sokka, grumbling under his breath, followed moments later. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“So, you’ve brought a monster to invade the village, then? You’re some incognito Fire Nation soldier sent in as an undercover scout? Well, I’ll have you know that I’m the village’s strongest warrior, a-”

“The only warrior,” Katara chimed in, lightly elbowing Sokka’s side, earning herself a responding glare. 

“The strongest warrior.” Sokka reiterated. “And I don’t much like firebenders.” He added the words pointedly.

“Ah.” Aang titled his head. “That’s a shame. Some of my closest friends are Fire Nation.”

“Of course they are,” Sokka glared, hunching over into a defensive position and adjusting his fishing spear until it pointed directly at Aang.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

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. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

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. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“Trouble sleeping too, huh?” Aang cocked a grin, tilting his head to Katara. She kept her eyes fixed upwards, trained on the moon and the stars, worried that if she looked away, she’d end up staring into his eyes like a weirdo. 

“I always feel so awake with the moon’s light on me. Sleeping under the stars has never really been a thing that works. It’s too energising, too… too much. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, no… I get it. I feel the same way in a windstorm, all those breezes and gusts of wind, it feels… exhilarating.” She watched through her peripheral vision as he looked up at the moon. “In times of war, I think we all tend to forget how spiritual bending is at its core. I’d say it’s a good thing that you’re in touch enough with the origins of your abilities to feel the moon’s pull tug at you just as much as it does on the ocean.” 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang smiled back. “Now is our time to try to make up for that. I can’t bring back everyone who was hurt in this war, and you can’t bring back your mother, but together, the two-, three of us can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“I’d like that,” Katara exhaled, her breath calming down and tears dissipating. The two spent hours talking back and forth, exchanging the stories of their respective childhoods. Katara learned that Aang had invented several new bending moves and had been a big fan of fruit pies, while Aang learned that Katara had always been the bossier one between her and Sokka and that she had almost chipped a tooth on seal jerky when she was six. They continued talking back and forth in increasingly hushed tones until the world faded away under the cover of clouds and sleep.

Katara awoke to the loud shout of her brother. 

“Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” he yelped, chucking a rock-hard stick of seal jerky at both of them. 

“Ouch, Sokka !” Katara snapped at him, rubbing her head at the spot where she had been hit, before realising that she was leaning against Aang and immediately jumping away, blushing furiously. 

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

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

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˗

⊹  ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖  ⌬ ⋆   ༘ ⚛︎ ⊹ ࣪ ⚛︎ ˖

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˗

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

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 😎

just found out my dad listened to a podcast on fanfiction so he can better understand one of my interests i’m going to cry 🥹🥺🫶

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 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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♥ my ao3 is here if you'd like to stick around to read the rest of this multichap->

˗ˏˋquillthrills on ao3ˎˊ˗

@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

oh nooooo ao3 is down guys i swear i was going to post like ten fanfictions today but i guess i can't 😟

and this is definitely because ao3 is down. and not because i am the least consistent writer of all time. i definitely am not posting because ao3 is down and no other reason. 🤗

the love of my life ❤️ (a literal fan-fiction site) has left for the warfront 🏃 (is down for scheduled maintenance), with no word of when they are to return ☹️ (again, scheduled maintenance, with a set end time)

AO3 MY BELOVED COME BACKKKKK

AO3 MY BELOVED COME BACKKKKK

i like them

KIT WE NEED TO COOK!!!!

I made a thing….

˗ˏˋ the teenager in the iceberg- ch. nine ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ fic summary: ˎˊ˗

i feel like a lot of people have wondered how different atla as a whole would be if aang had been older, so in this au, aang was frozen at age 16! naturally, i just had to flip aang being after katara from day one to katara now having a crush on aang from the very beginning. essentially, to recap. ATLA aang aged up AU fic. kataang. where she falls first, and he falls harder. also, cmon. i just had to write a new version of the scene where zuko and aang meet. zuko: you? you’re just a teenager! aang: s-…so are you…?

˗ˏˋ sneak peak: ˎˊ˗

In the middle of a field of lavender-lilies, possibly the most sleep-inducing meadow in all of the continent, surrounded by two soundly snoring siblings, the last Airbender found himself entirely and utterly awake. Worse still, rather than snatching scraps of rest from the unforgiving night, he found himself contemplating whether he had the basic common sense to even call himself worthy of the title of Avatar.  

On second thought, Aang mused, the sleep deprivation might definitely be making me a bit dramatic.

Aang hadn’t necessarily ever considered himself to be the brightest in the trio of travellers- that title almost certainly went to either Katara or Sokka, both brilliant in their own respective rights, and yet, he couldn’t help but think himself utterly stupid as he flashed back to the moments in which Madame Wu had given him his fortune. He told himself that he wasn’t sure why he had asked about a girl in his reading, but he was at least bright enough to know that that wasn’t exactly the truth either. 

Katara. Each time he drifted off into sleep for a few precious moments, he saw her there, stark against the dying embers of the volcano’s rage, as if the flames that had lined her silhouette had emblazoned her image directly onto his eyelids in that instant. Katara. He let his head roll to the side a bit, just enough so that Katara’s sleeping form drifted into his peripheral vision. A soft breeze passed between the two, carrying with it her scent of sea salt, linen, and snowberries.

He blushed when, through his sleepless haze, he registered that his own hands had called the wind.

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

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

˗ˏˋ the teenager in the iceberg ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ an author's note: ˎˊ˗

hi lovelies:))) to tide you over, here's a little snippet from the next chapter of TTITI<3 i know that it's been ages, but life gets in the way, you know? i won't make any promises, because i don't want to disappoint anyone, but i do want to get better at making space for the things i love doing this year, and writing is absolutely one of those things for me:)

just had the most disjointed idea for a joke pop into my mind. something about accidentally misspelling headcanon and then u have a cannon on your head and help i think i'm losing it

I'M CRYING, LOOK AT CLARK'S FACE WHEN LOIS GETS KRYPTONIAN POWERS

CLARK KENT IS THE REIGNING CHAMP OF BEING LOIS LANE'S #1 FAN THAT IS A MAN THAT IS ABSOLUTELY OVER THE MOON THAT HIS WIFE IS SO COOL AND STRONG AND AWESOME HE IS SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW JUST WATCHING HER THIS IS THE BEST OF OF HIS LIFE

this type of joke will always get me every time without fail

"I never understood why Katara was attracted to Aang" you are weak and will not survive the winter

I can see that

soso glad that this helped u out!!! <3 happy writing:D

PSA for all my fanfic writers- CONSIDER USING NOTION AS AN ORGANIZATION SYSTEM FOR WRITING!!

it only just occurred to me that i could use notion to plan out my fanfic writing and just UGH LOOK AT THE BEAUTY!!^

i can put all my fics together and keep track of pairings & how complete they are!!!

AND give them all little covers!!!!

seriously you guys need to try this it is beyond satisfying🤭

the template i used to make this is linked here 🤍 enjoy!!!

atom eve <3 just finished s1 of invincible

The older I get, the more wisdom I see in Aang’s choice at the end of the series. We always joke that Aang should’ve quickly ponied up and chose the sword on Ozai, head of the regime that’s stolen from everybody and stands to kill more. His friends were telling him to do it. His past selves were telling him to do it. No one would have held it against him, but Aang would’ve had to sit with the weight of that choice for the rest of his life. That’s what he was doing. He was weighing the value of a human life. He’s the only person with the power to make this decision and it takes a well of compassion and forethought to think it over the way he did.

He didn’t choose the third option. He MADE it. And isn’t that what we want from the most powerful bender on the planet??? To think about what they’re going to do? To extend forethought even to an enemy and weigh that against what will keep everybody safe? To try every single time?

The moment that the sliding door of their rented room clicked shut behind her, Katara heard shuffling, a groggy voice whispering. “Katara? Is that you?”

“Aang?” She whisper-shouted back, blinking into the darkness. She fumbled around by the door until she managed to grab a sea-moss lantern by the door and tugged off the cover. Immediately, what the lantern illuminated had her in stitches. Aang was there, sprawled across a thin bamboo mat, clearly half-asleep, but for whatever reason, not in the bedroom he shared with Sokka. She settled down onto a floor cushion next to him, still giggling at the way he continued to groggily blink at her. “What are you still doing up?”

He pulled himself up onto his elbows, rubbing at his eyes in a way that reminded Katara of a seal-penguin pup. “I went to check on you before bed, but you weren’t in your room. I wanted to make sure you got home alright.”

She wrinkled her nose at him teasingly. “What, you thought I was kidnapped or something? Joining an illegal street fighting ring? You can trust me to be able to take care of myself, you know.”

“Firstly, you and I both know that with how our sparring went back at Jet’s compound, if anyone is winning a street fight between the two of us, it’s me .” Mock-offended, Katara parted her lips to respond before Aang held up a hand to stop her. “And secondly,” He continued, grinning slightly as Katara stuck out her tongue at him, “I know full well that you can do much more than just hold your own. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you, Katara.” She felt her heart beat sporadically for a moment, and instantly wanted to curse at herself. 

“So what were you up to, Ms. Street Fighter?”

“For the record, I would have a much cooler fighting name than that,” Katara huffed, reaching up to gather her hair over her shoulder.

-ch8 of the teenager in the iceberg by quillthrills

Is there a fic you loved writing but now looking back you find it cringe?

all of them lol

am i the only one who thinks it's kinda funny that halloween is basically the one day a year where it's not only socially acceptable to cosplay as your favourite characters but encouraged and then it goes back to being something you get bullied for for the remaining 364 days of the year

bonus points if you manage to sing "so this is love" under your breath without getting a side-eye from the line cooks

my #1 tip for making the workday go faster at ur minimum wage service job is to pretend you are cinderella and are being forced to cook lukewarm pre-frozen chicken strips for your ungrateful stepsisters and stepmother

my #1 tip for making the workday go faster at ur minimum wage service job is to pretend you are cinderella and are being forced to cook lukewarm pre-frozen chicken strips for your ungrateful stepsisters and stepmother