“Shoot, fudge, flameo fu—!” Lin hops on her good foot as she leans to pick up the metal tongs that had landed squarely on her poor uncovered toes. Spices and sauce have sprayed everywhere, a red-and-brown tableau coating the wall like modern art.
There was a reason that she’d left the cooking to Toph growing up (and Toph had been a… less than stellar cook), and then to Tenzin after that. It wasn’t until they’d broken up that she’d picked up her first cookbook and struggled through a simple stir-fry — who knew that you had to blanche broccoli to make it taste less green? Or that baby bok choy wasn’t just one big bok choy cut into tiny pieces? In fairness, baby carrots were bigger carr— not the point.
Anyway, food has never really been about flavor or fun for Lin. It’s always been about sustenance — what’s on the menu is usually whatever’s quickest (or whatever can be made from the leftovers in the fridge). She manages not to go hungry, or to make things that are too inedible, but she’s had her fair share of close calls. Thank goodness for the takeout place next to the station with their 5 yuan noodles — she’s not sure why they’re that cheap, and twenty years down the line, she’s not sure she wants to ask.
So when Kya waltzes back into her life and declares that they’re going to host a family brunch — together — Lin can only stare in growing wonder as her girlfriend whips up tongue-numbing Sichuan peppercorn and sriracha with hand pulled buckwheat noodles topped with freshly-harvested onions and watercress and Daikon radish. She must’ve been staring for a touch too long, because Kya notices her and just winks.
[ID: Bernie Sanders meme with white text on the image of Bernie Sanders saying “I am once again asking you to use critical thinking skills when writing or drawing ATLA/LOK fan pieces” END ID]
Dear white fans of Avatar the Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra (but especially Korra because that’s the half of fandom I am most involved in right now): I am literally BEGGING y’all to do a MODICUM of research before you
start drawing or writing.
Nobody in ATLA/LOK is white or Christian: please apply an OUNCE of critical thought to
the cultural choices you are making in your fanart and fanfic.
Don’t be shitty and perpetuate racism in fandom. Do your goddamn research.
Nobody in ATLA/LOK is white or Christian.
Your existence in a
white supremacist, christian society, consuming this piece of media made mostly by white people existing in a white supremacist christian society, influences how you will interact and create
media in this fandom.
This includes, but is not limited to,
colorism in ships: If your darker character in your ship is always the
caretaker, please examine why that is.
Lastly, listen to your fellow fans of color. If they say something is racist or shitty, LISTEN TO THEM.
Folks with additional resources are more than welcome to reblog and add them and/or DM me and I’ll add them to the main post. Thanks.
also remember that “but it was done this way in canon!” is not alone enough justification if they perpetuate the issues above. ATLA / LOK were helmed by two white men, and they occasionally got stuff wrong. sometimes, they got stuff really wrong.
it’s okay to enjoy media that has issues with it! but it’s really important to remember that you can (and should!) be critical of everything you consume, and ask yourself — who made this, for which audience, and who was represented in the creative process? if the answers aren’t satisfactory, then ask yourself — what is the marginalized group saying about this art, and what can i learn from it?
Simple explanation of the bills that farmers in India are protesting - in TikTok form!
hey non indians are encouraged to reblog this actually since what the indian government hates most is word of their terrible governing spreading outside of india!
Video description: a TikTok by user hotvickkrishna. He is dressed as three people: the Indian government, farmers, and the private sector. The Indian government is shown first, wearing a white button-up and sunglasses. The farmer, shown second, wears a simple orange shirt. The private sector is dressed in formal suit and paints. The camera keeps switching between them as they speak.
The Indian government: Farmers, I want to share new laws with you. [Holds up a book with a paper over it. On the paper written, “New Farmer’s Laws.”]
The Indian government: How do you like promotion? Facilitation? Empowerment? Protection?
Indian government: Yeah!
[The Indian government hands over the book to the farmers, who flips through it.]
Farmers: You’re taking away all the rules and regulations that protect us and leaving me here with him? [Gestures towards his right, and the camera flips to the private sector.]
Private sector: [suspiciously] Trust me.
Farmers: No minimum support prices? He could haggle for lower prices!
Indian government: Everybody likes a good deal!
Farmers: Hoarding is allowed?! He could manipulate the market!
Indian government: [Looks in front, presumably towards the private sector] Hey, you’re not going to do that, right?
Private sector: [Visibly lying] No.
Farmers: I don’t believe him!
Indian government: Arey, he just said no now, no?
Farmers: And if we’re having any trouble or issues with him, we can’t go to court?
Indian government: You can go to couples’ therapy!
Farmers: [slams the book shut] We don’t support this.
Indian government: Why are you being such a terrorist? [Camera switches to farmers, who stares incredulously. It switches back to the government.] I’m hungry. Lunch?
Private sector: I could eat.
Indian government: I’ll WhatsApp Kangana. [Turns and leaves. The farmer stares after him angrily.]
End video description.
I’ll WhatsApp Kangana 😂
(when we said “bole kangana” this is NOT what we meant)
it’s not as good as the other one but here it is anyway
Kyoshi and Rangi drink together at the mansion in Yokoya. Some truths come out.
“Kyoshi was drunk, and Rangi was very pretty.
Actually, Rangi had been pretty even before Kyoshi had been drunk, but sober-Kyoshi would never be able to admit that, drunk-Kyoshi posited. Sober-Kyoshi was a wimp, she decided, and Rangi was really very very pretty.” Actually, Rangi had been pretty even before Kyoshi had been drunk, but sober-Kyoshi would never be able to admit that, drunk-Kyoshi posited. Sober-Kyoshi was a wimp, she decided, and Rangi was really very very pretty.”
It takes three days after the stitches go on for the bandages to come off. Katara peels them off slowly; rinses the cloth in her hand and cleans the wound with a potent, strong-smelling salve. It stings. Lin grits her teeth and doesn’t flinch. There are no mirrors in the hut, but she knows what she looks like. The damage has been done.
Outside the healer’s cabin, Bumi won’t stop calling them her “tiger stripes”, Tenzin won’t meet her eyes (choosing instead to sidestep her injuries entirely), and Kya — well, Kya just stares, unspeaking, mouth set in a firm, grim line. Lin, always giving as good as she gets, stares right back. She wonders what Kya’s thinking, and wonders still when it had become so important for her to know.
Lin lasts until dinner, until the silence outside of Bumi’s regular racket becomes deafening. She slams her hands on the ground, propelling herself upwards, and excuses herself from the dinner table. Aang motions to follow her, but Katara grabs his arm, holding him back. Toph, undoubtedly hearing the door slam, stays put.
She’s runs. She’s not sure where she’s running to (or what she’s running from); just lets her feet guide the way until her heart pounds and her legs smart and her breath comes in short gasps. She’s found herself on the dock, watching the tide come in and the ferry go out, the water lapping gently against the shore. It’s high tide today, the moon a bright beacon in the distance. She’s heard Uncle Sokka’s stories about Princess Yue, the woman become reincarnate among the stars. Sometimes she thinks Yue had the right idea — trading a mortal life of confinement and heartbreak for the immortal dance of celestial mechanics. She ponders idly if the moon feels pain.
“Did you know we only ever see one side?” Lin doesn’t have to turn around to recognize that voice. “Tidal locking. The moon wants to spin faster, but our planet’s gravity dictates its speed, reining it in. When the far side faces us, it’s daylight on earth — the sun outshines everything else.”
“Did you come out here just to spout lunar fun facts at me?”
“I’m just saying, there could be moon men out there, dancing a jig on one leg and waving hello, and we’d never know.”
“About as likely as Tenzin working up the guts to actually ask you out, but somehow that’s still seen as inevitable,” Kya mutters under her breath. Lin flushes. So Kya’s noticed.
Kya looks at her for a moment, really looks, and Lin feels like a shirt turned inside out, the unfinished stitching and messy patchwork of her feelings on display for all to see. Lin waits for the certain comment about her arrest of the Triad, of her fight with Toph, about Su getting sent away, but it never comes.
Instead: “Want to go for a swim?”
Lin’s sure she’s misheard, until Kya strips off her heavy blue pinafore, leaving just her long blue shift and boots. And then the boots are gone too, and Kya is jumping in the water, and Lin can’t help but follow, drawn like metal to a magnet.
She feels herself sinking, sinking, until Kya catches her, pulls her up until they’re floating, suspended in between the shore and the sea in a moonlit glow. Kya’s hand hovers near Lin’s cheek, dangerously close to her still-healing wound. She doesn’t touch.
“Let it out,” Lin hears, and the way Kya’s speaking to her underwater must be nothing short of waterbending magic. Lin finds herself taking in a lungful of air, fresh and cold, and lets loose.
She feels rather than hears herself scream.
Kya’s eyes are shut, face screwed tight in concentration, and Lin knows that she is trying to assess the extent of the harm. Trying do something, anything, to lessen the hurt. Lin is oddly touched. But the world’s greatest healer has already done her best — there is nothing more to be done.
Lin nuzzles Kya’s palm until they’re suddenly spiraling upwards, breaking the surface once more. Their legs have tangled in the ascent, and Kya is close enough for Lin to see the swell of her cheeks red with exertion, to feel the intensity of her gaze. She track the movement of the droplets making their way down the slope of Kya’s forehead, the bridge of her nose, the fullness of her lips, each clinging to the jut of her chin before mingling again with the ocean water.
Lin is struck by a sudden urge to lick those droplets off of her, trace their path with her tongue before finding her home against Kya’s mouth, warm and wet and sure. She should be shocked — the thoughts are new and intrusive and very, very vivid — yet the longer they linger, the more fitting they feel, as if they’d been in her mind all along. As if Kya had been there all along.
Kya is looking at her again, that piercing scrutiny that burns and leaves Lin’s head vacant in its wake. She tilts her head and lifts her hand, fingers splayed in a gentle caress. She looks exhausted and damp and very, very beautiful.
“Don’t forget,” Kya breathes, voice as light as a whisper in the wind. “Boys love scars.”
you know you’ve made it as a fic writer when folks far more talented than you make fanart for it
and honestly, i just about ascended when the hilarious @himbozone said he’d made this incredible piece for we’ve got chemistry… and then i fell on the floor laughing when i saw it (peep kya’s sHIRT y’all i can’t—)
<3 (also go check out his blog he’s so funny)
#bb’s first fanart for my fic #adam i am literally so thrilled with this tysm #kya’s hilarious and lin is so so done with her #kyalin#kya#lin#lin beifong #legend of korra #bad joke kya #we’ve got chemistry
(fr though, so are korra. and katara. and sokka. and suyin. the list goes on. remember that literal children are taking cues from your fanart and internalizing messages about eurocentric beauty standards based on your choices. this is important.)
“There must be lead in Kyoshi’s makeup. She wears it far too often, anyway, and the metal in the paint must be leeching into her skin and causing some kind of reaction. There’s just no other explanation for it, Rangi decides. Kyoshi has officially gone off the deep end.”
Kyoshi suggests that Master Hei-Ran and Sifu Atuat are an item. Rangi takes it predictably poorly.
heiratuat (heituat? aturan?) tumblr, look what you’ve made me do.
#kyoshi#rangi#hei-ran#atuat #rise of kyoshi #shadow of kyoshi #avatar#fic#rangshi #it makes no sense but i posted it anyway because if i have to suffer through writing it might as well make you all suffer through reading it #taare's delusional midnight fics
@evagreenfangirl followed me and became my 600th tumblr friend, so to thank her I asked for a drawing prompt, and she chose “wedding”.
People told me they liked Lin’s dress uniform from a previous drawing, and of course I think it’s quite appropriate. I thought about the fusion of 1920’s urban style and water tribe aesthetic, and found a nice overlap in the chevron pattern.
They would have preferred to elope or have a no-fuss courthouse ceremony, but they also know the people who care about them most would be awfully put out at being excluded from such a joyful occasion. So they relent, but only for a small event, close friends and family only, on the beach just beside Republic City, on a bright, breezy autumn afternoon.
today in rise of kyoshi aus that interest me and me alone:
mybrain: what if the flying opera company were an actual opera company preparing for a new performance (of, say, an in-universe version of Orpheus and Euridyce, for maximum angst) and Kyoshi was the tall drink of water playing Orpheus and Rangi was the soprano playing Euridyce and they accidentally fell in love while rehearsing and —
also my brain: you have three wips on ao3
me to me: yesbut super-niche fic ideas go brrrr
#kyoshi#rangi#rangshi #rise of kyoshi #shadow of kyoshi #i'd pick a Chinese opera but I sadly know nothing about them :(