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I want to introduce my followers to this image.

2018 mood

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Fresh South Park/Fire Emblem ideas

Cartman is a Dark Mage Stan is a Wolfskin Kenny is a Songstress Kyle is a Tactician Clyde is an Archer Craig is an Outlaw Tweek is a Barbarian Token is a Great Knight Jimmy & Timmy are Cavaliers (As per Fire Emblem tradition of having 2) Scott Malkinson is a Knight Heidi is a Villager Wendy is a Mercenary Butters is a Priest Bebe is a Wyvern Rider

And because we love our New Kids, Erik and I decided Jon and Quinn end up being lords.

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Haven’t been around to see if it’s showed up on the dashboard this year, so here’s your reminder.

Watch out for your black cats this season, and as a precaution, watch out for your black and white/dark patterned cats, too. Keep them inside or somewhere safe close to Halloween because there are assholes out there who might want to hurt them.

I know y’all love your cats as much as I do, and I love your cats, too. Keep your kids safe and give them a little smooch for me.

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“_____ people should reblog this.” is the new “if you don’t reblog this, you’re heartless.”

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Usually, I keep my mouth shut about this stuff, but like...where do people get off on harassing someone for 2 weeks about an OC they made saying the same things and shitting on them, stalking their accounts on literally everything, trying to act high and mighty when someone actually calls them out on it...all of that shit? Like....what do you gain from it, dude?

Normal people turn around and walk away when they see something they don’t like. I mean, I guess you all might be trolls, but holy shit, doesn’t it get old? Trying to play it off like you’re actually critiquing when you’re just...being an asshole?

There’s an actual person behind the account that made that OC you keep shitting on, and honestly, acting like you’re all upset and offended when you started it by creeping on someone, following them everywhere just to say the same unfounded things over and over again? You need to learn to let go.

I guess this boils down to “Don’t dish out what you can’t take.” Just leave well enough alone and remember that there are people behind usernames. Learn to respect other people because not all people would just sit there and let you do that. There are some people who would put you in a heap of trouble for it, including but not limited to tracking your IP and harassing you.

If y’all are kids, that’s what you need to learn. If you’re adults, you should know better, and I have no respect for you.

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Tales of Grief

Here’s a bit of a thing I wrote the other week when I was hyper-focused on this idea. Heavily inspired by @undiscoveredstory‘s I’ll Be Around For You.

Tiny Summary: Philip learns about death from his ghost friend who is, shockingly, also dead while worrying about his father.

“What should I do?” Philip asked, looking up to his friend. “Why is Papa so sad?”

John didn’t immediately answer. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen tears on the man’s face, but it was the first time he knew that it was his doing. How many years had it been? He’d thought that would be more than enough, but the muffled sobs said otherwise. After spending years in each other’s company, he understood Alexander’s grief.

“He misses someone…a dear friend,” he replied. It was gentle. John hesitated to tell Philip the truth about who he was. The boy may make things worse if he went up to his heartbroken father and told him that he could see or speak to his dead friend? How would he react? Not well, he suspected.

Philip’s big eyes widened. “Papa should go visit, then, like we do Grandpa when Mama misses him!”

“Shh…” John put his finger to the boy’s lips. He didn’t want to alert his father to their presence. It was bad enough that they were eavesdropping and looking through the crack in the door. He couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. If this was a one-time thing, it was needed. Even if it was a regular occurrence, he needed it. Knowing Alexander, this couldn’t be the first time. This was only the first time he’d been around to see.

Looking down to Philip once more, he held out his arm, bidding him to come closer. In life, John had been willing to talk about death every day, knowing full well that any could be the day it happened. He, Alexander, Lafayette, and Mulligan had been willing to do whatever it took to bring them freedom. He had spent long nights talking quietly by his friend’s side, speculating what it would be like to die and how they thought people around them would react. Those days had been different. Now, he’d seen the other side, watching the world of the living and wondering how he could have assumed anything about dying.

He wasn’t the one who should be telling the kid about it, but he wouldn’t understand if he didn’t try.

“Philip…do you know what “dead” is?” John asked, speaking gently.

“Dead is…when you don’t wake up.” The boy looked downward. He didn’t like this topic. “Like when birds in the yard fall asleep on the ground and not their nests.”

John hesitated. He had a vague idea, then. That was better than nothing. He went on with care. “Well, when something dies, it’s more than just sleep. Your head, your heart…It all stops. Everything just stops.” He reached out and rested his hand on Philip’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s more than just going to sleep one day and not waking up. Remember the other day when you cut your finger on a thorn outside?”

“Yeah, it hurt, and lots of blood came out.” Philip’s voice grew quiet. He sounded like he didn’t want to draw attention to the conversation either, not with the way it was going. “Mama took care of it.”

“It was a little cut. Sometimes, things can make bigger cuts, and more blood comes out.” He saw the surprise in the boy’s eyes and continued. “And sometimes, too much blood comes out…and that makes something die, too.” He felt his free hand glide to his side, a phantom pain reminding him of his own situation.

Philip looked down, scrunching his face up like he was thinking. John recognized that face from when he was studying, considering all that he was hearing and taking it in as much as he could. When he lifted his head, a frown had formed on his lips. “Is Papa’s friend…dead?” John nodded, mirroring Philip’s frown with one of his own.

The boy looked back toward the room, stepping back to peek in through the crack in the door. His father laid his head on the desk, unmoving. He could still hear the distinct sniffling of someone who cried. Philip wanted to push open the door and hug him, but it was past his bedtime. He should have been in bed, but the sound had drawn him out from under the covers, much to the dismay of his friend.

When he turned back to John, his eyes were shining in the dim light of a nearby candle. Like this, he looked so much like his father, and on some level, he knew it. “Why do people die…? Why do they have to stop being alive?” His voice lowered to a whisper, and he sniffed back a sob. “Why can’t they just be here always? Then no one would be sad…” Philip reached out for his friend, who opened his arms and let him come closer. He was used to the strange sensation of hugging his transparent companion, a tingling on his bare skin that wasn’t as unpleasant as it seemed.

The ghost rested his arms around the boy and used a significant amount of strength to lift him from the ground. It was hard to grasp objects when he wasn’t a solid object himself, but he cared too much for this family to leave them, especially the boy and his father. He quietly brought the boy back to his bed and sat him down. Philip covered himself and nestled into the pillow, looking up to him. “Do you think Papa’s friend misses him, too?”

A pain entered his chest, his expression twisting to one nearing despair. He tried to hide it by turning away, but he thought the boy had already seen it. “I’m sure he does, Philip…” Regaining himself, he turned back and put his hand on his head. “Get some rest. I’m sure he’ll be better in the morning.”

“Hey…can you go check on Papa again? Just to make sure?”

John lifted his hand, freezing as soon as he heard his request. He looked to his hand, considering what to do for the moment. He couldn’t leave him hanging, so he nodded. “For you, sure. As long as you promise to try to sleep while I’m gone.”

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Please imagine Alex and John looming over anyone who harasses Maria ready to kick their ass.

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Y’all shouldn’t repost people’s art regardless of what your intentions are. If you don’t have permission from the artist, don’t do it. If the artist has clear rules about their art, follow those (like credit, linking back, etc.). If not, ask and clarify. Just putting “this person made this” isn’t how you properly credit something, and certainly “credit to whoever made this” doesn’t count either.

And if you do it, own up to it. Don’t just run away or delete immediately. Apologize, take it down, and move on.