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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@mugirmu
Just a reminder my blog is trans inclusive. It’s bi inclusive. It is pan inclusive. It is intersex inclusive. It is ace/asexual inclusive. It is aro/aromantic inclusive. It is queer inclusive.
I don’t support terfs or exclusionists.
If you came here looking for an ally in your bigotry you came to the wrong blog. Go away. You are not welcome here.
PAN DAE MO NI UM
anything 4 my queen
"Garmelie was merely the traveler on this journey"
me, whose seen the mighty nein:
…and, at the time of his death, he was one of the most hated people in the USA.
The FBI sent him a letter trying to convince him to commit suicide. Don’t let this revisionist bullshit slide. The things they say now about protests, kneeling, etc, are the same things they said about the sit-ins and marches.
respectability politics is a trap.
respectability politics is a trap.
respectability politics is a trap.
Look at this vintage political cartoon. Reactions to MLK and BLM are near identical.
His own kids are telling yall not to fall for the bullshit
it’s cause you’re always on that damn spectrum
(me, my parents, my sister, and the baby are sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch)
baby, pointing at the light fixture over the table and signing "on": o.*
my sister: we actually can't turn that light on right now, because the lightbulb inside is burnt out! it needs a new one.
baby: ighbu.
sister: yes, lightbulb! granddaddy said after we eat he's going to climb up there on a ladder and change it, and then the light will come on!
baby: gadada! adda, uuu! ighbu o!
sister: exactly!
baby, signing "on" and pointing at the light and then my dad, with increasing urgency: GADADA ADDA UUUU. O.
my sister: we're going to finish eating first though, ok?
baby: nonono. O. gadada adda uuu.
[a split second goes by]
baby, pointing to himself: ba. adda uuu. ighbu.
me: you're going to climb the ladder and change the lightbulb yourself?
baby: dzyeah. *pointing to the buckle where he is buckled into the high chair* ububu.
me: unbuckle you? so you can change the lightbulb?
baby, highly businesslike: dzyeah.
*pronounced like "on" without the n
this comment passes peer review
Due to the currently ongoing rain all the airplanes are wet
Rb to give gender euphoria to the person you reblogged it from
the mighty nein reunited experience
ppl who oppose gender affirming care for kids are nuts like the extent of medical intervention for trans kids is maybe puberty blockers but they’ll still be like “SO UR SAYING WE SHOULD LET TODDLERS HAVE TOP SURGERY???????” barbara toddlers do not have a top to surgery
Interview with Diana Wynne Jones
“average person eats 3 spiders a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average person eats 0 spiders per year. Spiders Georg, who lives in cave & eats over 10,000 each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted
An actual World Heritage Post
how does this post not have a million notes but anyone online can quote it
one week until ten years of Spiders Georg
Happy ten years of Spider Georg
The next time you've got a friend over, set an example and put your phone on the table, visibly there but not too far away, to let them know that you're intentionally present, not distracted, your attention is undivided and you want to be fully focused on being right there to spend time with them. Don't mention it or draw attention to this, you're not doing this to be preachy or wanting praise, you just want to be a good friend and you value your friend's time. Ideally, your friend will either notice this or even pick it up without conscious notice, and set their own phone aside on the table as well.
Then, when your friend takes a minute to go to the bathroom, grab your phone and take a photo of your friend's phone sitting on your table. Do not touch it, and put your own phone back exactly where it was immediately once you've got the picture. Carry on with whatever you two were doing.
Once your time is up and your friend has left for home, wait for a good 15 minutes or so, for them to either get back home or be well on their way there. Text your friend, "hey, you forgot your phone", and send them the photo you took of their phone on your table. Set a stopwatch running from the moment your friend sees the message.
Measure how many seconds it takes for your friend to process this and tell you to go fuck yourself.
my three boyfriends. and yes, they smoke weed
do they smoke weed?
yes, actually
you mean he isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
its called a bunt, not a weed cigarette. and yes, it is a weed bunt. they all smoke weed bunts before we kiss (they are my boyfriends)
They don’t look like they smoke weed
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
fuck you
im so angry youre so lucky my three weed smoking boyfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down
Your “weed smoking boyfriend” has a lightening tattoo on his face. The one in the middle.
i printed out a photo of your pfp and taped it to my punching bag and punch and i mutter your url with every strong punch i punch you twerp..... dont ever Talk about Jonny or the wicked liner(eyeliner) i drew on him ever again i Dont wanna see you standing outside my home at 3am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
well that escalated quickly……
what. was that? hmm? come again? *Jonny grabs my shoulder* come one, Marius, they arent worth it, please *i jerk my shoulder shaking his hand off* NO! NOOOO!!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big metal fist. with each blow i let out a furious yell. the blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I'm yelling so loud now I'm crying. BREAKING POINT. the week was hard and i cant take it anymore. im opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. all three of my boyfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE BOYFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Jonny” and his “wicked liner”, or that it doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Marius, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* heh. idiot
*leaves with my three weed smoking boyfriends to go hold hands and kiss*
this dude playin omg
come again? *the bar falls silent. no one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. i remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. one hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* come again?! *you can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. a bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. the bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. his eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. a handful of people hurriedly leave. one person looks back at you. a look of sorrow on their face. they almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. but not you. you stand, petrified. a quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. you look to the exit, there’s still time. but there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. my hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. but the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. you know that song about the boots that were made for walking? yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. as I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Marius publicly, ever happened to their family? your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* playin?! there was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. no playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… love. I loved them… Jonny…. Brian… Tim… I loved all three of em… but they…*my face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* they left me… left… *almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* playin? playin?! *my hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. you close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ he says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. but instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. there is only sadness.* left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*
wow, grow up. *you say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
given that brian is a prophet. i’d say he increases the chances of predictions coming true actually.
Fuck.
To prove a point about this game to my friends and anyone else who may want to play FFXIV.
Am I exaggerating about the cabbage y/n
