Hiya Stitch!!! I hope you're doing well!
Who would have the more chaotic household, a Taang household or a Kantoph one?
Hi Ronin, thanks for the ask!
Good question…
With Taang and Kantoph, both couples and families are pretty chaotic. Aang and Toph like to wreak a bit of havoc together and always bring out the fun, “immature” part of each other out. They’d both prefer to just have fun and enjoy their lives. They instigate one another (in a good way), so it creates a bit of chaos.
With their kids, I’d say Toph takes on a more responsible role, Aang is the playful one. But that’s not to say that Toph isn’t playful! She just tones the chaos down just a notch.
With the kids, they have a very open, slightly carefree style of parenting. Their kids explore and go on lil adventures, Toph and Aang try to just let them do their thing and not rain on their parade. Of course, they get nervous sometimes, but they trust their kids and their kids know they can call Taang at any point.
With Kantoph, I think their chaos is a little more tactful. Pointed. They’re not really the pranking type, although there are a few occasions where they’ll instigate something. Usually, it’s them running off to do their own thing away from the crowds. And despite Kanto being pretty mischievous, he’s typically the one that mellows out Toph for the most part.
And with the kids, Toph is the calm, chaotic instigator. After work she typically tries to rest and relax with the kids, but if they’re ever wanting to train or do something that’s a little crazy, she’ll be all for it. But Kanto is trying to be the responsible one and it is a Chore. He freaks whenever the girls nearly get hurt or fall, and he just panics at the mere thought of them hurt or in pain. And the girls think it’s hilarious when Baba is Stressed Out, so that’s just chaos on its own. All the girls are doing crazy little things to get Baba to freak out, and it’s turning Kanto’s hair grey, that’s for sure. Whenever he tries to call Toph over for backup, she teasingly brushes it off until she decides to put her foot down and stop the chaos. Usually, though, she makes Kanto sweat it out for a few minutes longer haha!
My Taang AU has four kiddos, and my Kantoph AU has seven. A little more firepower from the Kantoph side of things, but don’t be fooled. The Dunebabies know how to wreak havoc. Gyatso and Suyin are the “troublemakers” in particular. And Lin typically gets roped into things. Kenji is the baby of the family and can do no wrong ;). Although when he started flying around the city and Toph couldn’t find him… that was a stressful day.
If I had to choose one, I’d say that Taang is a little more chaotic! They have a more open style of parenting that sort of leaves the aunts and uncles stressing out about the Dunebabies. Toph and Aang worry, but they do it in a way that still promotes their kids to be adventurous and curious.
The Kantophlets tend to get tracked down by Kanto and he frets a lot over them (hard to not freak out when there are six baba’s girls running around the city and he’s trying to keep track of all of them!). Because he’s a little more protective and worried, the family’s chaos is pared down just a little bit. I also think I tend to think of the Kantoph household as a little less adventurous? They’re a beach vacation kind of family whereas Taang they travel all the time and go to different, a little more dangerous places. Not saying Taang’s day-to-day life isn’t dangerous, but I think as the Chief and Deputy of Republic City, the danger feels a little more targeted and tangible. So, they try to keep their private life on the down low.
So, there ya have it! Taang family a little more chaotic than the Kantoph family :) Would love to hear your thoughts though, Ronin!
Thanks again for the ask, and I hope you have a great day! :D
……
Send me asks about ATLA, LOK, or anything, really! :D
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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Skip has always found a way to work through his problems and turn them around with relative ease, but the sudden death of his wife, Brandi, has brought his mostly carefreeness towards his children to a stand-still. With two freshly traumatized children and a newborn under his belt, can Skip juggle turning his shitty ass life around for his family, or will he crumble under the weight of his past mistakes?
Darleen hasn’t been the same since her husband, Darren, died, though she’d be quick to argue with you if you said anything of the sort. She’s FINE! She misses her husband, undoubtedly, but she’s not going to let that very, very, very tiny thing wreck her whole life, and she’s not going to let people give her grief about ANYTHING. Sure, she got fired from her job a few months back and hasn’t made any strides to find a new one, and she’s losing touch with her son as she goes and squanders all her responsibilities by partying and drinking on par with younger years, aaaaaaaaaaaaand the almost obsessive idealistic crush she’s developed on her neighbor is clouding the second half of her judgment, but she’s bounced back from worse and knows everything’s going to come up Darleen :) …………. hopefully
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