Then, with Mel and Jay from Arcane, the disgusting things I have seen this fandom do, the lengths that they go to treat Mel as an abuser in the relationship? To treat Mel as trash and not a character with complex qualities, just like everyone else in the show. Which is why I will forever side-eye any and every JayVik shipper. I do not care if you’re not the one perpetuating the stereotypes on Mel, but you being a shipper and seeing fellow shippers be distasteful; the least you can do is call them out on their behavior and make sure you’re not a safe space for them. Some fanfic writers have the nerve to write her as some aggressive black woman, and even Jay as aggressive sometimes, and Victor as the docile, could never hurt a fly character. Which is wrong, it’s disturbing, and it is racism.

Many fandom spaces are full of misogynoir and people who do not care to unpack their ignorance, even pick up a book and see why that is. Two authors I could easily recommend to people would be Bell Hooks and Toni Morrison. You have to do the work on unlearning racist and misogynistic behaviors because it is so deeply rooted in fandoms and other communities.

Whenever a black person decides to ship a black character and a non-black character together, I have seen many non-black people try to correct them, saying, “Oh, they’re just friends, he/she wouldn’t date them.” Are you the writer of the show? No, so what makes it right for you to police that person?

This goes with The Bear fandom and how people treat sydcarmy shippers. Why is it so shocking to you that people ship those two characters together? I personally haven't seen the show fully, but from the many clips I've seen of those two, I can see why people ship them, and even if I couldn’t, it's still not my place to police a person if it’s not doing any harm to anyone, or even the characters.

A lot of people love to humble black shippers and characters and force us into a box of some sort. While their counterparts get a safe space to be themselves.

With the Bridgerton fandom and their mistreatment of Michaela Stirling. It’s not just lesbianphobia, it’s racism, it’s misogyny. I see a lot of white lesbians and non-black lesbians in general forget to mention that racism plays a big role in why people want Michael Stirling and not Michaela Stirling. There are people in this fandom who will use AI and turn Michaela back into a man, but only a white man. As if the Kilmartin and Stirling families aren’t full of black people. I’m not interested in excuses either because more racism will go dismissed.

His hand tightened slightly on Appa’s fur as his head tilted, eyes narrowing just a little at a movement in the air that didn’t belong to the wind. At first, he thought he imagined it. The breeze curled strangely for half a second, being redirected. Aang sat up straighter when he felt the control in the wind that did not come from him.

“Appa, down,” he said suddenly. Appa let out a low grunt but obeyed, descending in a slow spiral toward the open field below.

“Aang?” Katara called, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer because now he could hear the subtle push and pull, the precise slicing of air that no one else ever seemed to notice. Appa landed with a soft thud, but Aang was already moving, sliding off before the others could even steady themselves.

“Aang!” Sokka called after him. “Where are you–”

He ran across the field leaving the gang on Appa. The sound grew clearer the farther he went, weaving through the tall grass, just beyond sight. His heart pounded from hope .Dangerous, impossible hope. He slowed as he reached the crest of a hill and then he saw you. You stood alone in the open field, unaware of him, arms raised slightly as the wind curled around you. It spun at your fingertips, coiling and stretching. Aang’s breath hitched as you shifted your stance.

You pushed a clean arc of air shooting forward, bending the grass in a perfect line before dissipating into the open sky.His mind scrambled for something else, anything else. A trick. A coincidence. 

“…That’s not…” His voice came out barely above a whisper.

You turned, eyes meeting his. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The wind settled between you, as he took a slow step forward.

“What… what was that?” he asked, even though he already knew.

You blinked, a little confused by his reaction. “What do you mean?”

“That, just now,” he said, gesturing, his hands slightly unsteady. “The way you moved the air.”

“I just… do that,” you said simply. “I always have.” You glanced down at your hands like you weren’t sure what he was seeing.

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “You don’t understand, that’s not something people can just—” He cut himself off because you were watching him warily.

“…What?” you asked.

“I’m an airbender,” he said finally, softer this time.

“Okay,” you said..

“You’re… doing the same thing I do.”

You frowned a little. “Moving air?”

“It’s not just moving air,” he said, a little more urgently now. “There are forms, and stances, and…” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his head. “Where did you learn that?”

“I didn’t,” you said. “I just… figured it out.”

“That’s not how it works,” he said immediately.

But even as the words left his mouth, doubt crept in because you had done it perfectly. The silence stretched between you again and the wind picked up, brushing past both of you in a quiet, restless sweep.

“…My family used to tell stories,” you said after a moment.

“Stories?” he echoed.

You nodded slowly. “A long time ago. About where we came from.”

His heart started racing again. “Where?” he asked.

You shrugged slightly. “Dad doesn’t really know or maybe he just won’t tell me. All I know is that our ancestors weren’t from where we are now.”

“Did he ever say anything else?” he pressed. “Anything about temples? Or monks? Or?”

“No, not really,” you said. “I think it just… faded over time.”

Aang’s gaze dropped to the ground.

“…Do you know anything about them?” he asked quietly.

“No,” you said. “Not really.” You shook your head.

“You’re airbending,” he said, his voice uneven. “That doesn’t just happen. That’s not just something you figure out.”

You frowned slightly. “I didn’t say it was normal.”

“Then what is it?” he pressed.

Silence stretched between you as you didn’t have an answer. Aang exhaled shakily, dragging a hand over his head.

“…You don’t even know what it means,” he said, quieter now. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” he started, then stopped, his voice catching on something deeper than the words. “It means this isn’t just bending. You’re a part of my people.”

You held his gaze. “And what does that make me?”

“…I didn’t want for it to mean anything,” you said quietly.

You stepped back a little.

“I just do what I can do,” you added. “That’s it.”

He just stood there, watching as you turned away. A heavy feeling covered his chest because he had spent so long believing he was the last airbender and as the wind moved between you, unfamiliar and uncertain, he wasn’t sure if that was something to be grateful for or something he had already started to lose.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rights to any characters mentioned nor do I consent to plagiarism of any kind. Thankyou for reading loves ;)