hiatus

You’ll pay for this. No, I got paid for this.

This is fucking terrifying

big nope 

I would’ve been so shook

Awww whale.

Whale I didn’t see that coming

it would’ve scared the fuck out of me holy shit that’s big

So for anybody who doesn’t know, that ring of bubbles you see coming up before the humpback does is a “net” that the whale creates by swimming in a circle and blowing the bubbles from its blowhole. The bubble net disorients the krill/small fish/whatever and corrals them into one spot so that the whale can lunge up and feed as you see it doing. It’s most often done cooperatively in groups, and a whole bunch of whales will lunge up at once.

In other news that is one deep harbor, holy shit.

♫ Pink like the inside of your, baby / Pink like the walls and the doors, maybe / Pink like your fingers in my, maybe / Pink is the truth you can’t hide / Pink like your tongue going round, baby / Pink like the sun going down, maybe / Pink like the holes in your heart, baby / Pink is my favourite part ♫

Janelle Monáe & Tessa Thompson in the official video for PYNK

Names of various videos on Shuri’s YouTube channel:

What’s up it’s 12:30 a.m. and I can’t stop thinking about how after T’Chaka is killed in Civil War, T’Challa tells Natasha their culture views death merely as a stepping off point, but then explains that he doesn’t hold those beliefs himself, though his father did.

That little piece of dialog means this scene from Black Panther is far more significant than it first appears, without that context:

T’Challa didn’t believe in the afterlife or the possibility that he would ever see his father again.

When he comes back from the ancestral plain, smiling and laughing, out of breath, telling Zuri, “He was there, I saw him, my father was there,” the triumph of his joy comes from the fact he didn’t believe it was possible. He knew what was said to happen during the ceremony but he never expected it to be true.

T’Challa’s uncertainty at the beginning of this scene along with his pure elation following the first conversation with T’Chaka now have a totally different meaning for me.

T’Challa realizes the truth behind his people’s beliefs, understands that his father was never really gone, and knows that one day he’ll be reunited with his father, his ancestors, and all of their loved ones – that death won’t be the end.

And yet despite that “safety net,” as it were, all he wants is to be a worthy king for the living.

Anyway, thanks for reading my Ted Talk, this is why I’m crying at almost 1 a.m.

There’s something really terrifying about the concept of being pursued by something that can only walk slowly after. Just slooowly following. You can chill for a while if you get far enough away but it’s still coming.

That’s called “persistence hunting” and it’s how humans hunted all sorts of megafauna to extinction, as well as what let our species become so disperse and so numerous. Our existence is a horror story told from the monster’s perspective.

Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. You will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man.

Alternative version of my last BP poster. You can’t out-Okoye Okoye, when all is said and done.

Black Widow in Captain America: Civil War (2016)

some friends

i don’t know who decided that happy endings were boring but i wanna fight them. happy endings make all the bad shit that characters go through worth it, there’s nothing boring about that.

get to know me [15 pairings - 2016]

“you don’t get to call yourself gay, you’re bi” but it’s the gay community, gay rights, gay pride parade. when they hit me, it was for being gay. when i look at myself i try to measure the parts of me that fit into the slot; i’m 80% gay even on a straight day. when i kneeled to pray it was begging away the gay part. when i do something wrong, it’s gay. 

when she was dating me, she was terrified of me leaving. “you’ll marry a man,” she said, “you’re bi, none of you are really gay.” when i left her for a man i felt those words like red nails inside me. when another of us commits suicide, a gay boy and i stand outside the funeral and he spits before going inside. “this is because y’all can’t make up your goddamn mind. he couldn’t even decide if he wanted to stay alive”. when i stand and hold hands with a trans boy at a pride rally, someone throws dirt at me. “go home, hetero,” and i feel like it’s better just to leave. “i just feel like shelters shouldn’t let bi people in. they can go to the straight ones. leave the shelter space for a real gay person.” my friend is out on the street at sixteen because she’s bi. in four years, she is dead. “bi people are untrustworthy” “bi people are slutty” “bi people don’t exist” “being bi is a sign of mental illness.”

too gay, i guess, for straight people. but not gay enough to call myself one. not gay enough, even when any other word i use to define myself comes with “slur connotations.” even when they beat me for it. even when i know people who died for it. even when. 

“i don’t know why bi people get upset we don’t make gay rights about them” a sigh, long-suffering, “you guys have no idea what kind of trouble we’re in.”

  Would you kill me, my love?