Rb if you were/are a gifted kid I wanna see how many of us ended up here

Something I made while dealing with my own stuff and hoping drawing this would pick me up somehow. Maybe it worked.

FT my cat. His name is Mischief

Instant reblog

automated text reply that just says YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY PERSON I AM LETTING DOWN

Automated text reply that just says YOU'RE NOT LETTING ME DOWN

Reblog if they're NOT LETTING YOU DOWN

ah yes the “heart” function… or as i like to call it, the “i’ve never seen this post in my life yet there is glaring evidence to the contrary” button

Reblog if you have never seen this post in your life, yet there is glaring evidence to the contrary

I think we should do the opposite. we should just invite him to all our chats. Your local D&D group? invite him. You're talking to your siblings? put the editor of the atlantic in there too!

Who???

Reblog if that Atlantic Editor was not in there

having depression makes your friends seem like the coolest most put together people on earth like wow... you got out of bed, had breakfast, went to work, AND spent some time on a hobby when you got home....? that's so impressive you're like superman or something. can i borrow your power.

Maybe we're all Superman, I just need to be in the sun more

Reblog if you need to be in the sun more

Reblog if you still like me

i really love the world of transformation fetish comics. it's not really my thing so i don't know as much about it as i'd like to, honestly. i only marvel at it in passing when my mutuals reblog it and i always love what i see. these characters exist in a world where randomly waking up transformed into an anthropomorphic chipmunk is like, well, it's not a horror story like it would be in our world. it's shocking and upsetting, but you can still go to work. it's just going to be embarrassing because everyone at work is going to be surprised that you're a chipmunk now. none of your clothes fit anymore. you'll need to find other kind-hearted and presumably sexy chipmunk girls to guide you. i always wonder how often this happens to people. is it common enough that everyone knows someone who accidentally drank "turn into a cute deer-woman" juice? or is it less common so everyone knows it can happen but they've never met any cute deer women personally? in any case, it happens enough that you can keep your job, for the record. becoming a sexy chipmunk is not a fireable offense.

breaking news. i’m going to jail for transformation fetish plagiarism crimes 😔

wait I found the post and it’s literally just my own tags I wrote. I’m free to go

Reblog if it was shocking and upsetting, but you can still go to work

consider the possibilities that happiness could have on your psyche

have you considered yet.

please consider.

Reblog if you have considered it

conservatives have fully lost the plot its actually extremely normal for little kids to pretend to be animals. it's a pretty essential part of their mental development and helps them practice creative skills actually. if a kid comes up to you and says "I'm a kitty cat" you don't need to reality check them. it's fine actually. the correct response is to say "are you? have you caught any mice today? what kind of kitty cat? do you have orange stripes? should we have tuna salad for lunch?"

I mean it's entirely possible that they'll take one bite of your tuna salad and say "hmm. I don't want to be a cat anymore i think"

Worked with me and cat food. And to this day I wonder how cats can stomach their dry meat cereal

Reblog if you don't want to be a cat anymore

one time I ate a cat treat and almost threw up

conservatives have fully lost the plot its actually extremely normal for little kids to pretend to be animals. it's a pretty essential part of their mental development and helps them practice creative skills actually. if a kid comes up to you and says "I'm a kitty cat" you don't need to reality check them. it's fine actually. the correct response is to say "are you? have you caught any mice today? what kind of kitty cat? do you have orange stripes? should we have tuna salad for lunch?"

I mean it's entirely possible that they'll take one bite of your tuna salad and say "hmm. I don't want to be a cat anymore i think"

Worked with me and cat food. And to this day I wonder how cats can stomach their dry meat cereal

Reblog if you don't want to be a cat anymore

stop using chat gpt. i can also feed you misinformation when you ask me questions and also im beautiful

some piece of penis on twitter stole my post then that got reposted to tumblr and got 60k notes. my psyonic warriors. source your chat gpt slander ethically

Reblog if you source your chat gpt slander ethically

Green eyes shouldn’t actually be considered an eye color. It’s just not common enough, it’s a VERY SMALL percentage of the population, 1-2%. Green eyes are also caused by an irregular mutation. Most people have blue or brown eyes, so those are the two eye colors.

All the “green eyes” positivity is actually a bad thing, by the way. Having green eyes is linked to higher rates of retinal melanoma. You’re celebrating something dangerous that can cause suffering.

And besides, most people with “green eyes” lean closer to blue or brown anyways. They should just make up their minds and be brown eyed or blue eyed. And if it’s too hard to tell, they should get corrective surgery (because green eyes are dangerous, and associated with more difficult medical care!) or at the least wear contacts so they don’t confuse people. But also they should be required to

I hate to sound like this, but green eyes are a far more recent development than blue eyes in the mutagenic history of humans. So humans weren’t created to have green eyes.

And hazel eyes? Those are just a variant of brown eyes—come on, they’re far closer to brown than green. They just have a couple greenish traits. And there’s no way there’s that many green eyed people, or a wide variety of eye colors… It’s just not natural.

I don’t have a problem with green eyed people, they didn’t ask to be born that way—but there’s just too few of them for it to be an actual eye color. We don’t need all this “green eye positivity” or putting green eyes in media. The internet is making people delude themselves into thinking it’s more common than it really is.

‼️ THIS POST IS ABOUT THE TREATMENT OF INTERSEX PEOPLE ‼️

✅ I HAVE GREEN EYES THIS IS SATIRE ✅

⚠️ PLEASE DON’T SEND ME ANY MORE THREATS OF VIOLENCE IN DEFENSE OF PEOPLE WITH GREEN EYES?? ⚠️

💧 THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT EYE COLOR?? IT’S ABOUT INTERSEXISM AND BIGOTRY 💧

who else understood what they were talking about immediately

was measuring out some sugar and i scooped out one spoonful and fucking said "two." i didn't know you could even lose count that fast

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anyway.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could crochet me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.

this is fucking adorable

hit it, Neil!