#with his family and friends

[ssreeder]

I’m not sure if this has been asked before but…

Why did Arnook never ask Sokka to watch and protect Yue during the siege of the north?

Because there are so many ways you can interpret that character just from canon. He may have seen Sokka’s fight and leadership and genuinely felt he’d protect Yue, or he saw how much Yue cared for him and tried to keep him as far away from fighting as possible.

I’m totally aware it was probably a split second decision on his part either way, but since there probably won’t be a lot more about the nwt in liab canon, I was wondering if you could give some insight into the character? Totally cool if it was just what needed to happen to catalyst Sokka getting captured.

I’m honestly just fishing for northern water tribe lore cause I think they’re interesting. Plus I tried to send an ask about yue and tumblr fucking died on me and i lost like 10 minutes of thinking that i now can’t recall. These last few chapters have been real tear jerkers. And Yue’s death reveal to Sokka has me thinking about ✨where this all started✨

Ok so honesty hour - it was for the plot, but when giving it more thought here is how I imagined the interaction going.

Sokka & Han have their little scuffle and Sokka is approached by Arnook, (& because in LIAB if someone has gone ice dodging and earn their mark they are considered a man and allowed to go to war) so yeah Sokka is 15 but he is a man in the tribes eyes. Also they don’t know him as the goofy kid like most of the SWT men do. Sokka showed up with the avatar & has seen battle & fought the FN & is ultimately an experienced warrior to them.

Which he did do those thing but he was very sheltered with aang & Appa - (damn it that beautiful sky bison made everything so much easier) so I believe Arnook would have asked Sokka where he felt he was needed most during the battle and Sokka of course would say “with the other warriors” (he had something to prove to himself unfortunately - trauma from his dad leaving as such a pivotal age and such) so Arnook (knowing Sokka is the avatars friend) placed him out on the wall, with other experienced warriors who were told to keep an eye on him (because yeah he is a warrior but also a 15 year old kid) and he was stationed in an area close to the healers and away from where they thought the most of the fighting would be.

Unfortunately we know what happened there & that’s what lead us into well…. *gestures at mess* all this.

Idk if that answers your question but to keep it simple haha I think Arnook would have given him a choice, and whatever Sokka (as a man) choose he would have supported.

[noelledeltarune]

EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt

[stickyvoidpaper]

Dick : Jasons been more, relaxed lately. It's unsettling.

Tim : Yeah, I've started spiking his water with mood stabilizers.

Dick : What

Tim : I've been thinking of doing it to the wider gotham water supply. Think about the crime rates.

[laughingcatwrites]

As a reminder that good exists out there, a coworker recently confessed to me that he found out his child is questioning their identity (kid's gender redacted for this post). The kid is keeping it from him, so he can't say anything to them or show that he knows, but he's doing his best to get mentally prepared and educated so that he'll be ready whenever his kid does feel comfortable enough come to him.

For context, this guy is a big, bulky middle aged dude who loves sports and typical outdoor "manly" activities. As his coworker and friend, I know he's a kind and sweet teddy bear of a person, but his kid probably views him as a stern, authoritarian figure, the way most teenagers view their parents. His family lives in a conservative area, so I'm sure between that, their dad's looks and interests, and the fact that their dad is a Figure of Authority, the kid is worried that they won't be accepted.

But you know what? When he found out about his kid, the first thing he did was reach out to his closest queer friend and ask for resources for parents of questioning children. His biggest fears are that his kid will be bullied or discriminated against and won't feel comfortable enough to be themself. His second action was to find himself a mentor in another parent who went the same situation (kid coming out in a conservative town). The other person is preparing him for some of the struggles his kid may face and the fights he may need to take on as a parent to make sure his kid is safe and treated well.

Something I want to emphasize for people focused on language as the primary method of allyship is that when we spoke, he used some outdated terms and thoughts about gender and sexuality. That does not make him bad. These were the terms and thinking used about questioning teenagers when he was growing up and he never needed to learn more current ones. But now that he does have that need, he's throwing himself in head first because that's his kid and he's darn well going to make sure that his kid feels welcomed and has a safe place to be themselves even if they never come out to him.

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF 4 bullies really were monsters in his eyes..

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

best thing about batman is that he's a superficially grimdark character, gothic & brooding & angst ridden etc..........but then it turns out he has a million hobbies, regularly goes on adventures with his besties, and has a dozen adopted kids he's raising with his devoted foster dad. good for him

[noodles-and-tea]

Returning home

[squarecloud73]

*I worship you Tumblr please don’t remove it

Picky eater

[demigods-posts]

imagine percy swimming to the bottom of the ocean. not to save a group of sea creatures. not to show off his skillset. and not to prance around as the sea god's favorite son. but to join the ocean in all that it is. laying in the soft sand and watching the fish swim by. the lobsters making space for him as he rests his head against a patch of seaweed. him laughing at the irony. imagine percy making small talk with all the different sea creatures and assigning them names. him actually running into a whale he named phillip who's on his way to propose to his boyfriend. and percy wishing him good luck and offering his blessing on their union. imagine percy making small talk with the starfish about his favorite dinosaur. and explaining to the collective group what a dinosaur is and why they don't need to worry about them reaching the bottom of the ocean. just. percy immersiving himself in all that's aquatic because it's where he can be his most self.

[lilislegacy]

i feel like percy is the person that people bring with them when they need to go somewhere or do something potentially dangerous. or more realistically, he’s the one who people’s loved ones tell them to take with. it just makes people feel better knowing percy is there. you know what i mean?

sally has a meeting with someone who sounds a bit weird (and paul can’t go)? paul tells her to bring percy.

paul needs to go to a really sketchy part of town? sally asks him to bring percy

piper got a weird anonymous note and needs to go meet them at a location? annabeth tells her to bring percy

leo has to go get some magic machine part from a really shady dealer? piper tells him to bring percy

frank has to go on an unofficial quest to investigate some shady legion history, and hazel has to stay with camp? hazel tells him to bring percy

and it’s NOT because any of these people can’t take care of themselves. they are all strong and brave and badass, and can handle anything. but for one, percy is intimidating as hell. his “wolf stare” sends literal gangs running the other way. you can avoid conflict before it even happens, because no one is messing with percy. and second, percy just makes you feel safe. his presence is comforting. not only has he been through all the demigod-hero-world-saving shit, and is powerful as hell, but he also grew up in new york city. he can handle pretty much any situation. plus he’s super sweet and funny, and you can always count on him to make you laugh and decrease your anxiety. and he’s always got your back. he takes care of the people he loves.

he’s just the best company. for so many reasons.

when in doubt, bring percy

[cor-lapis]

"If we must fight, Sethos... I shall defeat you with the power of my friend group of employed adults who miraculously have regularly scheduled meet-ups, and also my daughter!"

[redesigns]

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[dyinggirldied]

Rosemary's Baby Misunderstanding

It's the usual: Ellie and Dan get injured and reverted back to cores which Danny basically adopts inside his own to help protecting them.

Meanwhile, every single mages, wizards and magical-inclined person sees this young, high-school-age boy carrying what must be a sort of equivalent to Satan's babies except this particular Satan is not really Satan and is more of the High King of Infinity Realm I guess.

[breegadey]

kabru the homewrecker

[chloesimaginationthings]

Why was Nightmare Foxy in the closet in FNAF 4,,,

[bet-on-me-13]

Fenton, the Ghost Hunter Hero

So! When Danny first saw a Ghost attacking his school, he was still terrified of his parents finding out about his Powers.

He looked exactly the same in his Ghost Form, sounded the same, he even had the Hazmat Suit his parents had custom made for him on as a Ghost. There was no way anybody wouldn't immediately find him out if he tried to stop Lunch Lady with his Powers, it was so obvious!

But he couldn't just leave her there. She had crossed through the Portal that he opened, and was attacking his friends. He needed to stop her somehow!

So he tried, he just didn't use his Powers. He stole a bunch of his parents Inventions, fixed the broken ones so they actually worked, and ran in to stop Lunch Lady as a Human. The battle lasted far longer than he would have liked, but eventually he managed to stop her and shove her into the Thermos.

And from there on out, he just kept doing it. Danny became the Town's defacto Hero, since his parents were too Incompetent and he had the ability to actually beat the Ghosts, he had to protect the people he had endangered.

Soon enough people began to notice his Heroics. Mr Lancer didn't stop him when he ran out of the classroom, Dash stopped shoving him in Lockers, and his parents were Ecstatic when they found out he had gone into the "Family Business".

He still kept his Ghost Form hidden from his parents and the Public though. It was still too dangerous.

He only ever used his Ghost Form while in the Ghost Zone so he could blend in, and avoid being attacked by the multiple Ghosts who he had forced back in there. Danny Fenton was a Ghost Hunter, Phantom was just another Ghost wandering the Ghost Zone.

(Though he did gain some infamy by defeating some powerful ghosts, like Aragon or Plasmius)

Years down the line, Fenton remained the respected Ghost Hunting Hero of Amity Park, his greatest accomplishment being the defeat of Pariah Dark, the Ghost King.

That battle had actually drawn outside attention to the town for a change, and it wasn't long before Danny was offered a spot on the Justice League's Junior Team. It wasn't every day when the evil Ruler of another Dimension was defeated by a non-powered Human, so it actually sparked some interest in the Town.

Unfortunately, Danny couldn't accept the Invitation.

If he joined the Justice League, it ws only a matter of time before one of their multitude of Magic Users realized the truth and outed him as a Ghost. He couldn't take that chance.

He was content staying as a small town Hero dealing with a "minor" Ghost Problem, no need to overcomplicate matters.

That is, until the JL contacted him again a few months later. Apparently, their Time Travelers had warned of an Evil Ghost known as Phantom, who would one day grow so powerful he would destroy the world and leave it in ruins. They needed his help as an expert Ghost Hunter to track down Phantom, for the safety of the world.

Problem. This version of Danny had never actually met Dan, since his history went so differently. Now he is terrified of what event could have led to him becoming the Worst Supervillain in History.