Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Pairing: Zukka
Modern AU in which Zuko is the captain of the fencing team
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The one thing that bothered Sokka about Zuko, the fencing team captain, was just how…touchy he was. It seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself for two seconds. During practice, he was always going around and correcting people’s forms and stances by just…pushing their limbs into place, or gently taking their wrists or hands to show how the technique should look and feel. After practice, he would clap people on the shoulders and tell them good job, or go for side-jabs or ass-slaps. He once tickled Aang into total submission right in the locker room, both of them bare as the day they were born. Sokka, of course, was not exempted from this treatment, and he didn’t really so much like it.
He craved it.
It took him weeks to admit that he envied Zuko and his easy familiarity with the other members of the fencing team. He wanted to be able to just…let loose and not care what people might think of him. But that’s not how he grew up. He’d always had to be the man of the house, and that meant he had to put on a tough face and take a firm hand. Yeah, he was funny—hilarious, even—but he drew a line with others and rarely let them cross it.
But Zuko just sort of skipped right over it on day one, and ever since then Sokka wrestled with an unpleasant, coiling sensation in his gut whenever Zuko was nearby. That sensation which told him that the happy chemicals his brain made whenever Zuko touched him were shameful and wrong, and that he should not want to put his hands on Zuko’s tense shoulders, or wrap them around his narrow waist, or ruffle his hair. Men didn’t do those things, they put each other in headlocks and bumped fists or chests. They didn’t hug each other or drape themselves across another man’s lap. They didn’t cuddle.
Which was all to say, Sokka didn’t do those things. But becoming friends with Aang and being on the same team as Zuko made him long to change. To reach out. Holding back was agony, some days.
“Hey! Good job today,” Zuko said, putting his hand gently on Sokka’s shoulder as they walked back to the dorms from the gymnasium. Zuko’s smile was bright and genuine. Sokka’s fingers twitched.
“Thanks,” he said, instinctively brushing off Zuko’s hand, then hating himself for it, then hating himself for hating himself. “I think I'm finally getting the hang of the saber.”
“When you remember to loosen up your wrists,” Zuko said with a cocky eyebrow quirk, clearly enjoying having spent the last forty minutes disarming and humiliating Sokka in front of the rest of the club (he hadn’t been the only one). Moments like these reminded Sokka that Zuko was a man just like him, that maybe he could reach out like he was used to. But then Zuko snaked his arm over Sokka’s shoulders, leaning into him just a bit too close. Crossing right over that boundary. Sokka’s fingers twitched harder. “Don’t stress about it. I started on saber, and it took me ages to get the turn right. I think you’re better than I was when I was a beginner.”
“You really mean it?” Sokka asked, skeptical. Zuko nodded.
“I do,” he said. “I wouldn’t just gas you up, Sokka. I think you have a lot of skill and potential, you just lack training. How about attending Piandao’s workshop over Fall Break? The club will sponsor it.”
He was too close. His breath was in Sokka’s ear, and his body was pressed up to Sokka’s arm. They would be tripping over each other if they weren’t accustomed to automatically correcting their balance. Sokka sighed ruefully and gave in to his twitching fingers. He wanted Zuko’s touch, and he wanted to touch Zuko in return. He reached up and clapped Zuko on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. Zuko blinked in surprise as Sokka moved his hand down to his waist, pulling them closer together.
“I’ll think about it,” Sokka said, and then jerked his head towards the student union building. “Now come on, let’s grab something to eat. I’m starving.”
the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"
just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible
fucking hate it when the stuff everybody says "actually works" does actually work.
hate exercising and realizing i've let go of a lot of anxiety and anger because i've overturned my fight-or-flight response.
hate eating right and eating enough and eating 3 times a day and realizing i'm less anxious and i have more energy
hate journaling in my stupid notebook with my stupid bic ballpoint and realizing that i've actually started healing about something once i'm able to externalize it
hate forgiving myself hate complimenting myself more often hate treating myself with kindness hate taking a gratitude inventory hate having patience hate talking to myself gently
hate turning my little face up to the sun and taking deep breaths and looking at nature and grounding myself and realizing that i feel less burdened and more hopeful, more actually-here, that i am able to see the good sides of myself more clearly, that i am able to see not only how far i have to grow - but also how much growth i have already done & how much of my life i truly fill with light and laughter and love
horrible horrible horrible. hate it but i'm gonna do it tho
"There is a whole galaxy out there. Full of people who will reach for you. You have to let them. Find that person who seems farthest from you, and reach for them. Reach for them. Let them guide you."
being aromantic is like. hey btw you're going to live a life that is the culmination of most of society's worst nightmares. sorry lol ✌️ but then you turn around and take a really good hard look at it and it turns out that living in that nightmare is fucking awesome and you get to wake up every day and take that fear that other people have and laugh and hold it close until it's a great joy for you instead. and being happy is a radical act that you define instead of someone else. and you're sexy as fuck that's just a fact of life i don't make the rules on that one
(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:
"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"
sometimes spite is a powerful motivator and today its motivating me to crochet
long story short I saw a cool bag on pinterest while I was looking for crochet patterns but there was no fucking pattern but one of my friends found a pattern for a similar but not quite bag so I watched an hour long video, transcribed it into text, and am now gonna make a wholeass backpack just because Sunflower Vibe
in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!
they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.
they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.
you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.
but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.
where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.
and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?
doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.
but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.
what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.
just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?
your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.