Monsterhigh-fanatic - Y R U Here???

Sebby-chan this is my cat, not even you can keep my Blondie!!!!

earlier this month it was 120 degrees in Australia , but yeah lets continue to mock those trying to save us in the 12 years we have left to slow climate change’s effects. 

What is the worst thing that could happen if we listen to scientists and change our ways, and then it turns out they were lying? 

Slowly dying in a mad max hell world to own the libs I guess. 

Bark bark bark woof woof

times are tough

Let us not forget our true Lord and savior

this may be an Unpopular Opinion (even on tumblr) but like the 8-hour workday is just Too Gotdamn Long

like even sitting in an office for eight hours a day isn’t particularly pleasant (or healthy, as we are beginning to see) but when we’re talking about doing *actual work* for that same amount time it gets pretty fucking brutal

doing literally *anything* (even leisure activities) for eight hours straight tends to be less than enjoyable but when we’re talking about things like construction, landscaping, factory work, and hell, even foodservice and retail, eight hours is a fucking ETERNITY

i might just be a lazy weak-willed bitch but honestly i think i’m not entirely wrong

we don’t have to have everything figured out yet. it’s okay if we live without knowing what’s coming next. it’s okay if we make plans but throw them away for something else. it’s okay if we have to take some time to work through things. it’s okay. we don’t need to know all the answers in this moment.

We’re in the endgame now.

well i’ll be damned

Just Dab on through that door m8, I’m sure it will be fiiiiiiine. 

Choose Your Mistakes #7

Part seven of the interactive fanfiction, Choose Your Mistakes. Please check the FAQ and the Setting Info if you haven’t already, and be sure to make your choice below.

You reluctantly chose to take the arm with you.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t freak out a little. Wielding the arm from the elbow like a baseball bat, you smacked the claw-tipped hand against the ground. The fingers scrambled for a hold, but you slammed it down again and again until the hand went limp. Behind you, Anti pounded on the sealed hatch. You paused to regard the limp limb in your grasp, but after a mere moment of recovery, the hand became active again and flipped you the bird. You thought about stomping on it, trying to crush those fingers like a spider, but the pain in your ankle suggested that would be unwise. Besides, what would your shoes achieve that smacking it against the ground had not? The area around the hatch was sparse, the Autumn forest surprisingly well maintained for the middle of nowhere, with no apparent fallen branches or debris you could see to tie the arm to. Besides, you weren’t sure how to do that safely, and only had your headphones of shoelaces to use. There was no way of knowing whether that would even work. The banging on the hatch fell silent. A subtle, but persistent ringing sounded in your ears.

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