Ok, we’re doing an about me…

My name is Echo! I’m 17yrs old! I am a completely sfw tickle blog. I find tickling to be comforting and enjoyable, so dont come at me being all rude or creepy.. also! If you’re one of my irl friends and you see this? Dont judge, ask questions if youve got any, and stick around to find out more about something that brings me and everyone else in the community joy

I’m fine with just about any pronouns excluding she/her. I do primarily use He/They though, it feels nice

Hmm about me… About me… Well….

I am a huge horror movie fan

I’ve got the Autism monster and (now being treated) anxiety

I crochet sometimes (And by sometimes I mean my room is filled to the brim with little stuffed animals. I have baskets of stuffed animals and blankets and scarves for presents and to donate.)

I’ve started writing fanfics.. Of course, I haven’t posted any of them, (Mostly because they kinda suck)

Also… I do furry stuff now? I’m not sure if I can say that I’m officially a part of the furry community because I can’t draw well enough to make a proper fursona, but there is this website that I made what I would love to turn into one

https://www.monsterbrainsoup.com/dragon-builder/

Fandom list;

RoTTMNT

2012 TMNT

Percy Jackson (The books and the series that’s out right now)

Digimon

Yu-gi-oh

FNAF all the way up to security breach (Lee Moon supremacy)

Hazbin Hotel

Undertale+ a whole lot of its AUs. I’m not so much into Deltarune, but I know enough to keep a conversation going.

Tags!

Anything scary will be tagged with #spookyscares

anything I’ve crocheted, painted, or written will be under #Madebyme followed by whatever category it falls under. Ex.

#Madebyme #crochet #dragons

#Madebyme #Fanfic #Fnaf

#Madebyme #Fursuit

Friends will be tagged with #frien tag

Little-space related stuff will be tagged with #Lil’ time

"Hi y'all, it's Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, here with another taste test. I'm here in 1976, and I'm gonna get some fries from Mickey D's before they changed the recipe, and then I'm gonna take 'em back to 2022, and get fries from the same McDonald's, so I can compare. Now, I've got my Nixon, uh, Ford? Carter? Era fries right here, so now I'm gonna"

*everything appears stretched and distant, and then the camera flies through space, through the sun, over millions of different Earths, past the faces of individual people in a thousand different timelines, splintered day by day, the long-dead alive once more, their varied futures lying before them. They appear to be screaming*

"annnnnd here we are, gettin' the new fries, today. I have to say, I like the old fries a bit better, bit more crisp, but Mickey D's fries are still Mickey D's fries, y'know? Anyway, I know some of you guys were freaked out at all the screaming time faces last video, but like, I'm used to 'em, and they aren't even audible to me? But y'know what is audible? That's right - Audible, use code -"

"Hi y'all, it's Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, here with another taste test. I'm here in 1976, and I'm gonna get some fries from Mickey D's before they changed the recipe, and then I'm gonna take 'em back to 2022, and get fries from the same McDonald's, so I can compare. Now, I've got my Nixon, uh, Ford? Carter? Era fries right here, so now I'm gonna"

*everything appears stretched and distant, and then the camera flies through space, through the sun, over millions of different Earths, past the faces of individual people in a thousand different timelines, splintered day by day, the long-dead alive once more, their varied futures lying before them. They appear to be screaming*

"annnnnd here we are, gettin' the new fries, today. I have to say, I like the old fries a bit better, bit more crisp, but Mickey D's fries are still Mickey D's fries, y'know? Anyway, I know some of you guys were freaked out at all the screaming time faces last video, but like, I'm used to 'em, and they aren't even audible to me? But y'know what is audible? That's right - Audible, use code -"

"Hi y'all, it’s Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, here to respond to some allegations."

"Lots of you are saying, Chronomaster42, why don't you stop World War II? And I keep saying that I can't change history. History's got, like, antibodies, and these haters eject me back to my time if I do anything that'll change anything. Like the space time con...tainium doesn't want me traveling around time."

"And before you start bringing up that guy who erased...France? The fuck is France? From ever existing, that wasn't me, you guys. Get your facts straight. That was @true_chronomaster, the only TikToker with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space. i have nothing to do with the Evil Leaper Challenge. I don't have a shadow self. But y'know what I do have? Some words from our sponsor, Raid: Shadow Legends -"

"Hi y'all, it's Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, and today I'm gonna be doing the challenge Gamer_Springtrap2011 gave me, where I'm travelin' back in time to finally figure out which religion is true, and then I'm gonna make a tier list so we can put all this drama about which religion's the right one behind us and just settle on one of 'em that's the best. Like, finally, you know?"

"But before we go back in time to see if Adam and Eve was real, we've gotta check in with our sponsor, Adam and Eve, discreet packaging and shipping -"

"Hi y'all, it's Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, still sorry to every world religion, though like, you should really be mad at Gamer_Springtrap2011 for trolling me so hard. I got trolled guys. I'm sorry for my video 'CHALLENGE: I get this guy sitting under a tree in India to break his concentration'. I'm sorry for my video 'WHOA: I told a Roman cop where a guy was and got THIRTY SILVER COINS?!?!?' and shout out to Judas for catching my strays. Like, guys, I'm sorry. You should be mad at Gamer_Springtrap2011 though."

"Anyways, I've got this cool new money-making opportunity in the past. So like, what if we take things from the past, and sell them now? I found this guy with all this metal in his house, and it turns out nowadays they'll pay a lot for it 'cause normally you can only get copper from people stealing wire to pay for meth, but this is really good, honest copper. But like, I've gotta preserve history and shit, so I've been taking his copper and replacin' it with painted rocks. I think people are realizing 'cause every time I go to his house the copper guy's real mad and carrying stone tablets, it's funny. That Earnie Sir guy may be selling bad metal, but if you want real metal to hang on your walls, check out our sponsor Displate -"

"Hi y'all, it's TimeController73, the one EbaumsTuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, and I uh, think I might have messed up the continuum a bit. I'm gonna take some time to fix it, but you know who will have the movie you want to stream right now? Today's sponsor, Blockbuster+..."

"Hello y'all, it's ChronoMaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, and we've gotta talk about something important. Earlier this month I asked to ride that submersible down to the Titanic. They said no 'cause I didn't have enough money. So, like, I thought, man, you can control time and space! Go back to the real thing."

"But thing is, I got back there, right, and I was hopin' I could push Leo back on that raft 'cause the two of them could totally fit, CinemaSins had the real shit on that, but get this: he wasn't even there? Like, the two of them aren't even real? I looked all over the Titanic for 'em and I ended up falling from the ship when it broke in half so I made a portal under me, and it's kind of scary that I could have died on the Titanic and not been able to make content anymore. If I died in 1912 and didn't have new videos the algorithm would deprioritize me, y'know? It's so scary to think about. And like, I know I said the screaming faces of everyone's potential futures didn't get to me but man, they kinda get to you when there's also a lot of people screaming in the water."

"When I got back to 2023 I had two boxes on my doorstep. One was unmarked and just had a note in it saying 'THEY ARE COMING. THE RECKONING IS NEAR. YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE, AND THE ANTIBODIES GROW. YES, THEY DO GROW, AND THEY HUNGER.' And I'm kinda hungry too, 'cause I didn't eat on the Titanic, so it's good that the other was my first meal kit from today's sponsor, Hello Fresh..."

“Hi, y’all, it’s ChronoMaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, and I’ve got some exciting news. I’m gonna be collabing with Mr. Beast on a new challenge video where we, like, go back in time and try to survive for seven days. It’s gonna be cool as hell. We wanted to go back to Imperial China, but Mr. Beast said he was afraid we might not be respectful enough to the Emperor and thus would commit 大不敬, one of the Ten Abominations, and due to our non-noble status, we wouldn’t be able to rely on the “八議” or ‘Eight Deliberations’. Which, like, fair ‘nough. So we settled on our backup plan, which is a lot safer: France in 1916! Man, I can’t wait to see the Eiffel Tower before it got all old stuff and like, we’re gonna see it! Stay tuned, guys!”

ALT

ALT

*deep breath*

“Hello, you all. It’s ChronoMaster42, and normally I’m the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space. But today...I’m the only Youtuber who’s sorry they got Mr. Beast exploded.”

“I am. I know everyone’s canceling me, they’re canceling everyone just cause – it was his idea to go back to the Western Front anyway, and…”

*sigh*

“I’m sorry. I understand how upset you all are at the exploding of Mr. Beast. I want to apologize to the internet and to the whole Chrono crew, ‘cause I know I, uh, *stares into the camera* have changed a lot as a human being, and I’m disappointed in myself more than I’m disappointed in...myself, for going too far? Man, I don’t know what I can do to make it right.”

“I’ve been reflecting. I mean. Reflecting and I’m sorry and like, I understand. I’ll never explode Mr. Beast again. Though...he’s kinda already exploded...and I…don’t think I can re-explode him...”

“*deep breath*”

“I’m sorry for my actions, and I want to move on from this and make videos in the future, with my sponsor...with my sponsor...with my...*furious clicking*...I...don’t have a sponsor. I’ve...I’ve been demonetized! No! No, no, no...let me appeal. Let me appeal…”

“*click*”

A cloud appears behind ChronoMaster42, a swirling vortex through which one can see flashes of times from across all of history, across many timelines; it advances on him.

“What – uh, antibodies, you’re not, like, supposed to be in the present! ‘cause it’s not fixed and shit, and -!”

The cloud envelops ChronoMaster42, who screams, a trail of faces screaming into infinity within the cloud as he, and the antibody, vanish. Stream runs for over four hours with a shot of his empty room, until it’s turned off by a sudden power failure.

Hey guys, it’s ChronoMaster42, the only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only only ȏ̸̱n̴̬̽l̷̐ͅy̴̹̅ ̶̭̉ò̷̦n̶̡̐l̴̫̓y̶̟͝ ̴̞̿o̵̪͠n̸̡̉l̵̺̍y̸̜̌ ̸̲̅ò̵̥n̷̩͗l̵͈͂ÿ̴̰́ ̷̟̐ȏ̷̭n̴͖̆l̶̪͠ỳ̴̘ ̵̳͗ơ̸̟n̶̗̽ļ̵̿ÿ̶̫́ ̷̱͒o̴͇̊n̵̕ͅl̸̂͜y̵̱̾ ̵͎̈́ǒ̸̼n̷̺͐l̸̯̉ŷ̶̹ ̸͙͐ȯ̶̻n̷̺͗l̴̝̀y̵͇̋ ̵̫͆o̴̞͘n̵͙̓l̴͎͌y̴͓͐ ̸͓̏o̵͙͝n̷̥͘l̵͈̓y̸͈͘ ̴̬̒o̶̧͔̻̥͖͔͙͂̂͛̅́̒̎̓̓̿̇͊͛̀̉͂͂͑̚̚͝͝͝͠͝n̴̨̡̛̺̥̯̥͇̟̩̜̱̖̰͔͍͖̥̲͈̯̙̠̰̬̠̝̟̘̭̱̫͈̩͌͆͒͐̎͋̍͌̋͐̆̒̆͛͐͆̾̽̏̓̑̄͘͜͠ͅl̸̢̘̬̪̳͎̼̣̪͎̘̞̰͍̖͎̙̜̳̬̺̬͙͔͕͌̀̔̍̓̀̈̊̊̐̌̒̾̎̈́͋̑̅͆̀͘͠͠͝͝ͅy̴̛̛̠̺͔͖̔̅͗̾̉̋̒̐͊́̈́́̀̇͊̎̃̀̓̾̕͠͝ͅ ̶̢̨͓͖̱̩̣̳̯̘̗̳͙̗͙̱̳̦̩͇̤̭͙̉̆͌̐́͑̑̓̑̋͗͆̑̉͌̔̒͌̒͗́̈̍̌̋͂͊͛̆̿͛̄̋̒̊̂̌̒̿̅͌̆͋̚͠͝͠͠ͅͅǫ̷͔͇̜̥̫͇̥̳̠͕͖̟̖̫̗̼̝̠͙̣̲̜̰̉͛͛̑͂̋̎̅̓́̈́̚͜n̶̨͕̖̟̭̯͓̫̙̪͙̺̯̰͎̽̍̈́͝l̵̢̬̦͚̟̥̟̼̯̰͇͈͉͍̲̫͎̠̖͔͇̲̺͉̼̰̦̀̐̄̒͋̓́̕͜͝y̸̢̧̡̢̡̢̡̢̛̛̲͚̫͕̰̭͙̗̻͎͓̥̲̭̱̜̻̟̣̮͓̺̘̫̦͚̗͚̥̥̲͖̿̾͒̏̿͑̓̈̀͑̾͊͂̋̋̑͂̌͆̑̐̈́́̽̅̈́̂̍̇͌͆́̕̚̚͜͠͝͠ ̷̨̧̧͓̜̻̤̰̰͇̠͖̙̫̥̜͇̼̥̭͖͕̹̹̠͖̖̣̹̺̪̼̦͛̔̿̂̈́̈͊̿̓̒̃͆̿̿͒́̈́͒̽͐̑̊́̋̚̚̕͘͜͠͝ͅͅͅỡ̶̧̨̡̢̢̧̧͔̩̹̥̼̟̥̞̲̜̱̼̺̳̻̥͇̲̻̙̟̗̞͈̘̤̮̫̻͓̀̈́̂̾̍̔͒͂͗̆̃͑͑̎͋̉̔̾̉̑̇͌̊͗͊̑̑̍̉̄͋̚͜͠͝͝͝ņ̴̢̧̡̡̪̥͕͕̱̜͖̖̞̰̥͕̞̪̜̯̖̖̳̥͔͖̗̹͕̯̈́̾͋͌͊́͑̒͌̃̏͑͊͐͗͛́̿̾̀͐̔͌̔̑̌̃̌̄̋̕͘͜͝ḽ̶̨̡̦̣̺̯̼̭̻̮̼̪̝͙̣͉͚̥̼̙̙̯̜͈͕̙͇͖̭͇̌̆̀͒͗̍̊̎̅̏̈́͑́̆͐̓́̀̎͑̐̇̆̎͊͑̉̈́́̒̅̾͋̈́̋̅̚͠͝ͅy̶̧̡̡̛̠̘̻͈͇̰̮̤̯̰̤̲̜͖͖̯̫̲̟̤͖̪̫̲̲̳̞̹̫̯̬̯̝̱̜̩͈͙͖͋̀͒̈́̂̐̀̃̉̏̇͑̔̃͛͗̈͗͗̅̃͋̌͗͐͌̽̕̚͝ͅͅͅ ̶̡̢̢̤͈̟̬͙̲̯̣̥̬͓͈̠͉͚̤̘̔̓̓͊͛̄͊͐̓͛͐̅͌̑̑͗̍͋̏̈̽͛̒̍͌͛̓̅͗̈̀̕̕͘̕͜͠ò̴̧̢̪̑̎́̏͆̋̃̆̍͊͊̇̉̂̀͂̽̀̎̋̃̇̏́̐̉͌͛͂͆̍̆̐̊̃̀̕ͅn̵̡̨̢̡̨̧̪̜̺͍̥̫͎͖̳̜̭̜̺̪͇̮̬̙̯̟͔̻̫̤̩̖̝̩͕̩̤̯͙̫̘͔̬̘͊̔̓̎̈́̑̈͐̂̋̋̑͜ͅļ̵̡̡̨̢̧̻̣̝̤̮͚͖͕̲̫̝̖̻̞̞̩̪̗͎̯̖̙̣̻͚͈̬͈̝̼̙͖̩͖̻͛͗͊̇̀͊̓́̂͒̇́̎̑̽̓̂̏̃̑͒̂̈́̚͜͝͠͝ͅy̸̡̡̡̩̠̫͓̘̞͈͖̫̰̤̼͎̼̙̳̒̎̂̈́̊͋̂͋̔̇ ̵̡̛̼̟͉͓̭͚͈̝̩͇͖̜̾͊̑̆́̈́́̌́̅̏͒̌̏̋̍̽̌̑͌͗̍̾͆̓́̓̂̐̿̍̾͒͋͂̇̽̎̅̏͘̕͝͠͠͠ǫ̶̡̡̛̼̙̙̭̗̣̳͕̘̪̣̩̣̲̳̳̦͍͈̬͍͇̻͍̤͚͇̥͍͎̫̥̺̱͕͙̲̲̠̘͍̞͌͋́̍͗̉̍̽͂̃̇̀̌́̎̎̀̍̈́́̎͑͗̄̏̓͗̄̈͒̅͗̀̉̊̍͋͆̚̕͘͝ͅͅṇ̷̢̛͕̥̝̥̗̖͍̩̝͈̱͙͉͕͇̊͐̏̓̏͊͑͂͐̏̊͗̇̀̽ͅļ̵̧̞͖̲̗͖̫͉̣̟̏̈́̋̍͐̅͂̍̃̾̇̏̐͛̋̌̔̕͘y̴̡̡͖̤̮̠̮̫̟̱̗̖͉̫̱̩̳͔͇̪̟̗̫̣̬͐̂̓̌͂́̒̅̈́̒͐̈́͊͐̌̅̈́̀̓̏̽̀̊͗̈́̓̽́͛͗͗̍͐͝͝͝ͅͅ ̷̢̡̙̦̺̮̟̺̥̱̫͔̎̄͊̒̇͛̅̉̑̂̒̏͘͝ͅỏ̴̢̜̌̽̃̓͗̆̚ñ̶̨̢̼̹̥͙̳͔̯͈͔̲̩̭̮̫̜̟̣̰͖̜͎̻̣̹̩͈̳̺̾̌̓̏̏̅̃͠ḷ̸̢̡̛̜̺͈̲̙̝̣͈̙̭͎̜͖̝̩͚̹̖̪̙͉͔̱̺̉̏͛̾͊̀͊̒̐̋͑̈́̿͂͒́͂̃̅̀͑͐̋͊̿͑̄͋̈́͜͝͠ͅy̶̜̭̲̺̣̣͖͍̺͖̩͍̹̬͈͎̹̬͚͇̩̻̘͚͉̻͍͍̻̯̱̗̩̹̱̳͎̮͇͔̰̓̉̓̍̄̾̓̍͑͊̽͌̈̾́̑͗̿͑̋͂̄͌̓̿̍̕̚͜͝͠͝ͅ ̷͕̀̎̊͋̎̃́̏͗͗̒́͑̀́̽͆͆̓̾͑͌͂͂̽͛͑̅͊̓͐̃͑̋͗̃̈́̓̚̕̕̚͘̚͘͘ơ̷̧͓̫̣̥̳̻̘̻̝͎̪͔͓̹̺̱̰̺͕̪͈̱̼͍̺̯̼̖͇͚̻̰̥̥̯̱̭̺͔̰͇͎̗̞̗̂̎̇̍̏̓͗̽͑̐̾͛̏͐̇̅̓̌̈́̒̈́̈͊̌̀̈́͒͑̂̈́̀̽̌̂̌̈́͋̄͐́̉͆̇͗͂̕̕̕͜͜͝ń̴̛̰̰̰̜̮̬̙͖͓͎͕̹͉̯͙̦̹̻̳̤̜̻͇͔͛͂̅̎́͘͝ļ̵͖̘̳̹̜̱̰̲̑̌̈́̆̍̓̇ỵ̶̢̧̧̢̺̥̰̲͙̤̖͓̟̗͍͔̘̰̥̜̯̖̼̜̟͔̞̗̝̫͔̟̩̫̫̗͖͙̬͍̆͛͜ͅͅ ̷̠͔͖͎̝̿͊̀̎̓̉́̑̄͆̅ơ̷̡̨̢͕͙̭̗̹̼̼͓̮̗̲̬͕̬̥͙̲͙̼͖͓̟̜̖̯̟̜̜̜̖̖͇̺̟̙̳͖̜̱̗͇̫̗̪̏͆̑͋̊̓̆̃̔̏͂̊̏ͅṉ̷̨̨̧̡̨̨̢̢̛̛̳̳͕͇̻͍̻̗̥̣͖̰̭̟̗̘̖̞̖̬̺̝̼̝̩̹̝͇̳̗̬̠̔̒͌̎̍̏͋̽̿̊̈́́̅̒̚ͅͅļ̷̡̭̯̤̲͖̜̯̟̟̗̼̺̩̳̖̱͍̝̫̣̖̪̤̲̖͈͇͎̳̣͔̱̥̑̋̑̕͜͜͜ͅy̵̨͔͚͇͕͚̫̯͈̞̬͕̠̻͗͐̿͑̽͊́̽͒͛̍̉̉̌͒̈́̿̿̔̏̊̈́̀̾̇́̃̊͑̇̈́͌̅̊̃͋͒̚͘͝͠ ̸̡̡̳̩͈̫̙͕̥̫̖̳̼͔̺̠̳̥̠̬͉̺̰̰̮͍̠̗̪̰͙̮͇͚͒̌̿̌̀͠͝ͅơ̶̢̢͉̰͔̦̯̺͓̣̯̪̼̰̪̩͙̩̱̣̫͓̱̣̟͓͍̓̅̈̑̆͌̾̀̏̏̀̓̐̔͆͗̑̊̇̐͆͗̇̌̈́̑̆̅́̇͆̔̂͛̔̍͌̄͘̕̕͠͝͝͝n̷̢̧̳̿͠ļ̸̢̡̢̡̨̡̧̼͇̳͍̺̺̗̹͚̘̣̞̗̙̻̟̥͈̥͇͎̺͙̠͉͈̻̠̥̼̼̣̩̖͔͈̟̫̺̤̬̃̓͋̐̈́͒͗̎́͜ȳ̸̨̧̨̪͓̭̤̯͎̣͖͔̖̗͎͉̥̼͉͍̲͖͓̪͕̝̟̬̜̤̣͙̪̥̙̖̗̣̟͔͚̔̐̈́̒͜ ̷̧̢̨͔̝̫͎̪͍͈͔̖̹̗͙̼̫͙͙̬͔͈̤͉̙̪̞͖̹̠̣͍̭͉͍̞̰̻͈̼̂̿̐̄̒̀̎̂̍̆͒̂̈́̓͑̉͌̃͐͋́͋͋͂̌͛́́̋̇͒͒̀̊́̏̀̎̆̄͘͜͠͝ͅͅǫ̸͔̭̩̩͉͕̲̝̥̣̬͕̼̤̰̝̓̄͛̊͑̔͆̾̂̓̐͛̈́͋͜͜͝͝ͅn̴̨̢̢̺͉̼̼̠͚͉̠̪͚̱͈͓̪͓͖̻̮͎̞̫̓͂͜ļ̷̢̛̛͕͓̖̞͉̺̜̱͓͕͚͈͈͈̜̩̺̲̞͉̫̣̥̙̻̙̹͕̖͈͚̙͚̠̗̰̹͌͒̉̅̄̂̊̎̉̐̄̏̈́̏̈̏̐̂̃͌̾̿̿̀͗̆̉̌̄̅̔̀̀̓͛̑̀̚̚͘͘͜͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅy̸̨̧̨͖̼̩̳̩̝̦͇͍͙̙̪̠͎̘̪͈͍͈̺̩̲̼̫̲͕̦̘̘͎̦̣͚̘̺̩̩̞̼̤̆̾͗̆́̉̈́̍͒̍͆̀̈́̎́͗̇̈́̑͌̒̂͆́̎̓͗̍͌̕̕̚͠͝͠ ̸̧̛̘͈͎̘͚͙͇͇̙̖̠̙̟͛̆̉̅͗̓̑̍̅̀̈́̉̈̈́̄̒̌̾̆͂͊̒̍̃̀̋̈̄̆͊͐͛͑̌͘̚͝ọ̵̧̧̡̧̥͇͇̯̭̓̊̍̿̀̈́͂̔͋́̔͗̓̊̿͋̌̓͗͋̔͒̂͂̈́̕͠͠͝ṇ̸̨̢̛̥̝̖͚͓͚͎̺͕̦̯̗̹͎͉̝͙̼̲̥̮̳̀̑̉̏̃̅̓͒̉̒͆́̒̇͋͌̃͒́͊̇͌̔͋̒͂̈̅̌̏͂͂̂͑̇͛̃̐̋̏̅̚̚͘͜͝ͅļ̴̧̼̯̖̳̬̙̱̣͕͔̖̖͈̗̻̱͔̞͙̬̲͔̤̱̮͉̺̯͔̳̻͈͙̙̲̰̗̳́͌̀̉̃̉̀̍̂̑̏̈̏̿̌̑͘͘͜͝͝ͅỹ̴̨̨̧̢̡̛̠̱̯̤̤̳̗̹̞͚̹͎͖̠͉̰̙̹̲͚̹̝̦̥͙̣̩̯̤̥̜͖̮̮͍̺̠̬̱̳͎̆͌͌̾̔̌̈́̈̂̓͌̑̿͊̿̀͛̂̈̽̓̆̐̈̏́̄́̇̆͗͒͒̍̉͗͝͠͝͝͝ͅ ̵̨̡̧̛̬̹͙̰̰̺̼̹̮̳͎̟͔̺͎̼͚̠̰̗͈͚̲͍͔̘̻̗͙̥̞̰̻͚͖͈͛͗̎͛̀̿̀̓̑́̄͆̓̉̏͋̌̈́̎̒̈̈́͛͗̐́̽̅̏̏̇̾̅̕͘͠͝o̵̭͚̼͋͐̿̒̅̓̀͑̌͌́̌̽͊́̑̂͗̽̒̍͊͛̔̔̂̓̍͊͋̏̐̐̎̿͘͘̚̚͘̕͘ņ̶̡̮̤̻̪͓̞͓̤̫̣̩̙̲̤̰͔̤̯̇̀́͋̅͊̈̆̃͊̅̈́͌́̎͂͋̀̈̏̿̆̾̀̌̋́́͛͌̓̓́̀̋́̃̑̕͝͠͝͝ͅl̴̛̯̺̝̦͎̥̳̼͍̝͖̭͛̉̓̿͊̉͗̏̾̒͑̔̅͊̓̔̀̃͌̅̾̃̌̐̅̔̀̇̃̌́̀̀͜͝͝͝͠ý̷̨̡̨̢̝̖̙̮̞̠͔̩͔͉̪̻̹̰̟̱̬̦̘̹̤̱̗͙͎̮̠̟̞̬͖̮͜͜ͅͅ ̶̨̧̢̡̝̘̺̯͇̣̺̝̗̯͎̻̲͙͔͉͉͒̅̆͐͒͐͆͊͌̀̈́̓͐̓̉̊̊̔̿̏̓͛̄̄̿̈́͐̐̽̃͑̑̾̃̅̑̆̋̚̕̕̕͜͝

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I can't believe my shitposts have fanfic now

If you reblog this, in the next 30 seconds you will become a dragon.

Not gonna take the chance of not becoming a dragon

*REBLOGS FASTER THAN A DRAGON’S BURNING HEARTBEAT*

deliberately waited over 30 seconds because it doesn’t want to be a dragon (for now) but every one of its followers has to reblog this for purely non-sexual reasons

It doesnt matter how long u wait it means in the next 30 seconds after reblogging you become a dragon u gramatical failures

Grammatical failures. I’m taking that. Brilliant.

see imcapable of having some bite for all my bark

I wanted to be rain wing rawr

im so bad at maintaining online friendships!! im sorry to everyone i’ve had a lovely chat with but havent followed up with!! im a very isolating person and i still consider you my friend i promise !!!

im so bad at maintaining online friendships!! im sorry to everyone i’ve had a lovely chat with but havent followed up with!! im a very isolating person and i still consider you my friend i promise !!!

The thing about Cottagecore is that is a fetishized aesthetic of country life, divorced from labor and idealized by a primarily urban audience with a backward looking ethos of tradition. They are not prepared for the stresses of a rural life: farming; harvesting; tapping pumpkins to ensure none of them have been replaced with flesh; losing out on income by having to use one of your pigs in a blood sacrifice to paint protective sigils over your doors and windows; checking cracks and chimneys for the flesh-vines of the Pumpkin Lord; having to decide, before the Growth is complete, whether that's really your tradwife or an amassment of vines, leaves, and blood in the shape of your tradwife; ignoring their desperate pleas that "I'm me! No! No!" as you burn them alive, realizing too late you picked wrong; and the exploitative corporate nature of commercial farming in 2024. All seen through a deeply colonial lens, of course

The thing about Cottagecore is that is a fetishized aesthetic of country life, divorced from labor and idealized by a primarily urban audience with a backward looking ethos of tradition. They are not prepared for the stresses of a rural life: farming; harvesting; tapping pumpkins to ensure none of them have been replaced with flesh; losing out on income by having to use one of your pigs in a blood sacrifice to paint protective sigils over your doors and windows; checking cracks and chimneys for the flesh-vines of the Pumpkin Lord; having to decide, before the Growth is complete, whether that's really your tradwife or an amassment of vines, leaves, and blood in the shape of your tradwife; ignoring their desperate pleas that "I'm me! No! No!" as you burn them alive, realizing too late you picked wrong; and the exploitative corporate nature of commercial farming in 2024. All seen through a deeply colonial lens, of course

When I made this post I did not expect it to be an effective test of which Tumblr users actually read a post fully before reblogging, and yet

To be fair that’s what all posts on tumblr are

In the first poetry workshop I ever took my professor said we could write about anything we wanted except for two things: our grandparents and our dogs. She said she had never read a good poem about a dog. I could only remember ever reading one poem about a dog before that point—a poem by Pablo Neruda, from which I only remembered the lines “We walked together on the shores of the sea/ In the lonely winter of Isla Negra.” Four years later I wrote a poem about how when I was a little girl I secretly baptized my dog in the bathtub because I was afraid she wouldn’t get into heaven. “Is this a good poem?” I wondered. The second poetry workshop, our professor made us put a bird in each one of our poems. I thought this was unbelievably stupid. This professor also hated when we wrote about hearts, she said no poet had ever written a good poem in which they mentioned a heart. I started collecting poems about hearts, first to spite her, but then because it became a habit I couldn’t break. The workshop after that, our professor would tell us the same story over and over about how his son had died during a blizzard. He would cry in front of us. He never told us we couldn’t write about anything, but I wrote a lot of poems about snow. At the end of the year he called me into his office and said, “looking at you, one wouldn’t think you’d be a very good writer” and I could feel all the pity inside of me curdling like milk. The fourth poetry workshop I ever took my professor made it clear that poets should not try to engage with popular culture. I noticed that the only poets he assigned were men. I wrote a poem about that scene in Grease 2 where a boy takes his girlfriend to a fallout shelter and tries to get her to have sex with him by tricking her into believing that nuclear war had begun. It was the first poem I ever published. The fifth poetry workshop I ever took our professor railed against the word blood. She thought that no poem should ever have the word “blood” in it, they were bloody enough already. She returned a draft of my poem with the word blood crossed out so hard the paper had torn. When I started teaching poetry workshops I promised myself I would never give my students any rules about what could or couldn’t be in their poems. They all wrote about basketball. I used to tally these poems when I’d go through the stack I had collected at the end of each class. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 poems about basketball. This was Indiana. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I told the class, “for the next assignment no one can write about basketball, please for the love of god choose another topic. Challenge yourselves.” Next time I collected their poems there was one student who had turned in another poem about basketball. I don’t know if he had been absent on the day I told them to choose another topic or if he had just done it to spite me. It’s the only student poem I can still really remember. At the time I wrote down the last lines of that poem in a notebook. “He threw the basketball and it came towards me like the sun”

In the first poetry workshop I ever took my professor said we could write about anything we wanted except for two things: our grandparents and our dogs. She said she had never read a good poem about a dog. I could only remember ever reading one poem about a dog before that point—a poem by Pablo Neruda, from which I only remembered the lines “We walked together on the shores of the sea/ In the lonely winter of Isla Negra.” Four years later I wrote a poem about how when I was a little girl I secretly baptized my dog in the bathtub because I was afraid she wouldn’t get into heaven. “Is this a good poem?” I wondered. The second poetry workshop, our professor made us put a bird in each one of our poems. I thought this was unbelievably stupid. This professor also hated when we wrote about hearts, she said no poet had ever written a good poem in which they mentioned a heart. I started collecting poems about hearts, first to spite her, but then because it became a habit I couldn’t break. The workshop after that, our professor would tell us the same story over and over about how his son had died during a blizzard. He would cry in front of us. He never told us we couldn’t write about anything, but I wrote a lot of poems about snow. At the end of the year he called me into his office and said, “looking at you, one wouldn’t think you’d be a very good writer” and I could feel all the pity inside of me curdling like milk. The fourth poetry workshop I ever took my professor made it clear that poets should not try to engage with popular culture. I noticed that the only poets he assigned were men. I wrote a poem about that scene in Grease 2 where a boy takes his girlfriend to a fallout shelter and tries to get her to have sex with him by tricking her into believing that nuclear war had begun. It was the first poem I ever published. The fifth poetry workshop I ever took our professor railed against the word blood. She thought that no poem should ever have the word “blood” in it, they were bloody enough already. She returned a draft of my poem with the word blood crossed out so hard the paper had torn. When I started teaching poetry workshops I promised myself I would never give my students any rules about what could or couldn’t be in their poems. They all wrote about basketball. I used to tally these poems when I’d go through the stack I had collected at the end of each class. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 poems about basketball. This was Indiana. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore. I told the class, “for the next assignment no one can write about basketball, please for the love of god choose another topic. Challenge yourselves.” Next time I collected their poems there was one student who had turned in another poem about basketball. I don’t know if he had been absent on the day I told them to choose another topic or if he had just done it to spite me. It’s the only student poem I can still really remember. At the time I wrote down the last lines of that poem in a notebook. “He threw the basketball and it came towards me like the sun”

Adopt i sold a couple days ago

sorry about the lack of posts i've been having a lot of trouble drawing lately due to a buncha stuff going on c':

Adopt i sold a couple days ago

sorry about the lack of posts i've been having a lot of trouble drawing lately due to a buncha stuff going on c':

it fucking sucks being a disabled person who can't work and having to see these fuckass posts where someone's like "ahaha jobless people have no life and that's why everyone shitty online has No Job" and everyone and their mother reblogs it joyfully onto my dash for me to see. yes unemployed and unemployable people are truly without exception dogshit people with no hobbies and no redeeming qualities. you're so right. anyway if you'll excuse me i have to start my shift at the I'll Never Be Employed Because Of Permanent Disability And I Love Knowing How You Really See Me store

it fucking sucks being a disabled person who can't work and having to see these fuckass posts where someone's like "ahaha jobless people have no life and that's why everyone shitty online has No Job" and everyone and their mother reblogs it joyfully onto my dash for me to see. yes unemployed and unemployable people are truly without exception dogshit people with no hobbies and no redeeming qualities. you're so right. anyway if you'll excuse me i have to start my shift at the I'll Never Be Employed Because Of Permanent Disability And I Love Knowing How You Really See Me store

if ur able to work can u reblog this i am seriously SO sick of it.

btw this isn't solely a disability rights issue or an issue about people who are entirely unable to work. you should also be thinking about the people who are regarded as unhireable. transfems are hugely discriminated against in this way, people of color are passed over for less qualified white people, anyone who has any difficulty playing the interview game is less hireable... frankly anyone who made the mistake of pursuing the things they love and now has a degree for a niche field. if you still joke about Jobless People it's because you've fundamentally connected the worth of people to their labor, and specific labor, work that you see as valuable. and while i'm at it stop making fun of people who still live with their parents. asshole.