Bakubimbo

she/her ~ a goddamn dumbass

[crimson-chains]

A true story of something that happened to me at a con a few years ago! I just couldn't believe that bag saldjaldjalkd!!!

[bloominflowers]

those funny erling haaland memes but with ilya rozanov because this type of humor is very ilya coded to me

[victusinveritas]

[nether-demon-warthog]

@entities-of-posts if you haven’t done this one yet, the desolation

[entities-of-posts]

Seconded

[ominous-signs]

Official ominous sign

[pankendev]

you ever jack off?

what else is there

[arahir]

can you tell us more about the mantis mentality

hoo boy. so, okay, a thing you might know about me is that i keep two giant metalwork ant statues in my front yard. i wanted to get a giant praying mantis statue to go with them but these are oddly enough hard to find and harder to get to one's house. however, once an idea has occurred to me, i cannot let it go. so any time i'm in my yard now, i think about that giant mantis statue that will one day go there. i think about a giant mantis so fucking often at this point that it was a really small leap from that to being stuck in a terribly boring meeting full of people i didn't like and you know the whole "imagine them in their underwear" thing? no fuck that. imagine them with a giant mantis in the room. hilarious. love it. it's giving ray harryhausen. it's giving stop motion monster flick. it made my day innumerably better every time. and it really was an even shorter leap from that into what i assume all the adults i know who rp warrior cats are doing where i imagine myself as an animal, but giant, and cool, and insectoid. since that moment it's been totally effortless to do anything annoying or boring that involves other people. i also find mantises have a sort of eerie elegance and stillness to them which i find admirable. good posture, intense gaze, etc. how would a giant praying mantis respond to this email? directly, i'm sure. politely, i hope. without fear of god or man? absolutely. this is what i aspire to. "as per my last email" i type without a shred of human emotion, adding exactly one strategic exclamation point afterward to soften the impact. "though i find the efficacy of the model questionable giving how much data they bootstrapped, i don't have any reason to believe it isn't accurate enough to be useful" i say out loud in a meeting as people stare on in horror. i quote decimal places. i snip snap my little jaws. i make direct eye contact with people in other cars on the road. i give a full presentation in perfect stillness while moving my gaze from person to person waiting until they look away before i move on. i am not trapped in room with them. they are trapped in a room, by the veneer of professional courtesy, with me, until i say i'm done. i am not stressed, annoyed, confused, frustrated, bored, or harried. the emotions i'm feeling are: i would like food, and: i will have food, soon, and: it's going to be delicious. nothing else gets through. this is the mantis mentality.

[1introvertedsage]

[duckbunny]

remember kids, the moral of "Irish and Italians weren't even considered White yet!" isn't "because in those times people were so ignorant they didn't think the Irish were white". the moral is "because white is an unreal category created to justify slavery and ongoing hoarding of power and wealth". It's not that you know better about Italians. It's that the boundaries of the higher caste have changed.

[thistoowillpasss]

[thistoowillpasss]

[thistoowillpasss]

[thistoowillpasss]

[kittykittyredcat]

[rhynee]

this is still one of my favorite explanations for gender

[sedimentfootwrap]

This image manifested so clearly in my mind I had to recreate it

[alexseanchai]

[image 1: a tweet by KatysCartoons, whose profile picture is a stick figure whose head is colored in with the trans pride flag. the tweet reads, "Atoms are binary. They are either intended to be hydrogen or helium. We can't just scrap this worldview just because of a handful of exceptions". embedded in the tweet is a pie chart entitled "Types of atom in the universe": seventy-four percent hydrogen, twenty-five percent helium, and, in tiny font, one percent other.]

[image 2: the periodic table of the elements, except that hydrogen and helium are in their own box labeled "Real elements", and elements 3 (lithium) through 118 (oganesson) are labeled "Mental illness".]

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incidentally this periodic table must've been drawn in the past nine years, since it doesn't deadname oganesson

[mikkeneko]

Shouldn't that be "Real Elements" and "ELEMental Illness"

[asweetprologue]

this is so devastating. laois should have just shot him with a gun

[cussundria-nerd-kneal]

How the fuck have I never reblogged this. (Also, preserving op's tags)

[luouchie]

papas taka and suya take the boys to the beach

[piropoi]

the only ship I want to be canon

[marbol-jumbol]

I just needed it

[phantomrose96]

A master to his action-hero trainee says, "Your movements are sloppy. You lack awareness of your body when you fight. Your hands move and yet you do not hold them in your mind's eye. Come. We will remedy this."

And then the master paints his trainee's fingernails and orders the trainee to complete a series of complicated tasks without smudging the nail polish.

[phantomrose96]

Trainee grumbles that this is stupid when the first set of tasks is just cleaning the dojo. Within two minutes he reaches for the dustpan and knocks the edge of his pinky nail against it in a way he's never noticed before. He's staring at the baby blue smudge and suddenly he understands things differently.

[phantomrose96]

There's a montage of days passing as he fetches water, chops wood, hoes crops, washes clothes. His nails are a different color during each cut. He's sprinting up the mountain with a fresh wet pedicure and the master is nodding in approval. The master's nails are flawless tech art.

[phantomrose96]

He's reached his final assessment and it's a sparing match against his master. The air smells of acetone. His and the master's nails are all freshly painted. He must land a blow on the master with his mani and pedi fully intact.

Suns and moons pass. Streak in the ring finger. Smudge on the pinky. A full-handed block at the cost of three nails of paint. A hit on his master, and he hoots in delight until the master points out the unguarded toe whose polish is now streaked across the master's robe.

Days pass in frustration and exhaustion. By day 40, he has every digit of his acutely in his mind's eye. He senses the master's attack, ducks, dodges, all fingers all toes all himself, aware, and he strikes with his wooden sword.

It connects with the master. The master pauses. The trainee raises his left hand into view--5 digits of flawless sunflower yellow. His left foot. His right foot. And finally his right hand, raised in triumph.

The master smiles. "You have passed. I have just one more technique to teach you."

The technique is how to draw little flowers into the nail art. So really this one is optional.

[scavengedluxury]

Happy Easter. You should have killed me when you had the chance, I promise you will not get another. 

[ominous-signs]

Official ominous billboard

[papayafromtv]

au where Damian’s on ok-enough terms with his mother’s side of the family that they keep in contact, and on a phone call with Ra’s he finds out about Tim having lost his spleen; a fact which Tim did NOT alert the rest of the bats to due to a mixture of him not remembering that it might be relevant and him not wanting to deal with all the questions/shock of it all. luckily for Tim, Damian grew up in the league and has dealt with/seen so much shit in his life that he too does not really think Tim being spleenless is that important, and doesn’t think to bring it up.

unfortunately, Damian is also the youngest brother and is, in essence, a little fucking shit. so a couple months later when Red Robin has to meet up with Batman, Nightwing, and Robin to discuss the ring of illegal organ harvesters that Robin and Nightwing have just infiltrated, Damian hands over a gift bag with a clearly bitten-back grin and falsely-innocent expression.

Tim opens the back and genuinely bluescreens.

“I- I uh,” Damian chokes back a giggle. “I heard you needed one of these.”

Tim’s face is so uncomprehending that Dick snatches the bag away and moves to open it, complaining about how Damian had made them stop at a craft store on the way over to buy the bag and he still doesn’t fucking know why-

he looks in the bag and screams.

“WHY DID YOU TAKE- WHAT EVEN IS THAT?”

Tim stares forward blankly, in pure awe at the levels of comedy his little brother is bringing to the table. “It’s a spleen. He’s given me a spleen.”

Damian collapses into a fit of laughter to the point of crying while Dick, horrified, tries not to throw up over the mangled rotting organ Damian had stolen from the illegal-transplant ring. he doesn’t stop laughing for the better part of an hour and Bruce has to talk to Damian about the dangers of messing with case evidence, especially when that evidence is actual human remains.

obviously the question of why Damian thought it would be funny to gift Tim a spleen of all things brings about the knowledge that Tim does not have his original, which Tim is not happy about. the worst part is Tim can’t even be mad at Damian for it because that’s genuinely the funniest fucking joke he’s ever heard of in his life and he’s only pissed off that Damian of all people thought of it before he did.

[ominous-signs]

Found on Instagram.

Official ominous sign