One Nice Bug Per Day
Andulka
styofa doing anything
if i look back, i am lost
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
@theartofmadeline
hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Kiana Khansmith
Xuebing Du
★
Kaledo Art
Discoholic 🪩
h
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
dirt enthusiast
No title available
Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
seen from T1
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Bulgaria
seen from T1
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from T1
@fangirljas
My Way-Too-Early Prexy Pick: Mayor Pete
From Trump Trash Talk to Pragmatic Straight Talk Nobody asked or perhaps cares, but my early choice for the 2028 Democratic presidential nomination is Pete Buttigieg, better known as Mayor Pete. My reason is simple: He speaks clearly and directly, reflecting thoughtful points of view. He isn’t a shrinking violet on issues, but doesn’t spout venom when he speaks. He is reasonable and well-spoken…
i get that americans love their cultural imperialism, but it really does piss me off that june is “international” pride month just because something happened in the united states.
in aotearoa, june isn’t our pride, it’s theirs. marsha p johnson and sylvia rivera are their historical figures, not ours. the phrase that “you owe your rights to Black trans women” is true there, but here we owe our rights to (mostly) Māori historical figures. i have the freedoms i do because of the legacy of an entirely different set of people operating in an entirely different context at entirely different times.
But because of american cultural imperialism, most queer people in Aotearoa don’t even know our own queer history. Carmen Rupe, Ngahuia Te Awekotuku, the Dorian Society, Gillian Laundon, Georgina Beyer, and the Wolfenden Association are some of our queer history. We should know their names! we should know what they did for us! but because of the power of the american imperial machine, we don’t.
our national pride month should be july, the month that the Homosexual Law Reform Act passed in 1986. our two largest cities hold their pride festivals in february and march, respectively. american queer history has very little (or nothing, depending on who you ask) to do with our queer history. anecdotally, from my own queries, queer youth in aotearoa know more about american queer history than our own.
anyway, happy pride, americans. i’m truly sorry that most of you don’t see the negative impact your nation’s culture has on the rest of the world. and to the rest of the world reading this, try searching for your own country and culture’s queer history, don’t accept the american narratives as your own. we deserve our own histories divorced from the cultural hegemony of the USA.
Petition to find queer histories in all months of the year...all over countries...and celebrate it year wide internationally.
I love drawing Harry
“Oops, that was your foot, wasn’t it? Never mind, mercifully you have two. One to spare…”
Lily was laughing, her head dipped back, the loose locks of dark red hair dancing around her shoulders as they went round and round.
One, two, three…one, two, three…
“Oh, god, watch out—!”
“I did tell you I was terrible at this,” said James as they nearly trampled a house-elf and toppled a whole mess of puddings.
“You did,” agreed Lily, through another enchanting burst of laughter, “and I appreciate your honesty.”
“I’m going to twirl you now.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Ah, Evans, you said the word. Now I have to.”
“What word?”
“Dare.”
— The Last Enemy by @chdarling
(ac: kalacoco via Twitter)
imagine if this was peter and voldemort couldn't get the info out of him because his little rat brain had literally forgotten it. genius move
snowy day at station
jily
I love this dog with all my soul 🤲
When Life Gives You Tangerines is a stunningly beautiful drama. It far exceeded my wildest expectations and delivered a new all time favorite love story alongside its pitch perfect themes about family and class and resilience through life’s many hardships. I can’t even gather coherent thoughts about it, I’m just so grateful it exists.
When life gives you tangerines = drama of the year.
James: why Peter, why? 🥺🥺🥺
Sirius: when did this exactly happen?
Peter: ....when you adopted the cat James!
"Sirius lacks discipline"
I am sorry... Sirius Black, who chose to practically starve when hiding in a cave to avoid drawing attention to himself, lacks self-discipline?!
bonding
personalized ads are so funny to me
'hey we've been spying on you and tracking your every move. it's a culmination of state of the art technology and an unprecedented invasion of consumer privacy. a room full of men with made up jobs bent their will toward decades of constructing this system, defending it in court, and tirelessly innovating new ways to aggregate more data about you'
and the end result is
'yeah so uh we saw that you recently bought a car. so here's an ad for that car'
like no i'm good actually. you might be aware that i already have one
literally no heterosexual explanation to this behavior
i hope you guys appreciate the levels of details in this one
Sirius Black
Created for the Siriusly Noah Fest, along with this poem!
Prompt: "You looked just like your father as the news was delivered."
This art is incredible on its own, but please click through and give this poem a read. It is absolutely stunning.
When she first sent it to me as a draft, I read it three times and then had an absolute meltdown obsessing over every line. It's so good, and it's a short read if you're looking for something that will break your heart with just a few minutes of time commitment.
The street was ordinary, the sort of street where nothing interesting ever happened. Privet Drive sat in neat rows of identical houses with polished windows, trimmed hedges, and spotless driveways. But Harry stood at his bedroom window watching it with fierce anticipation, tapping excitedly against the glass and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
So far, the most exciting thing to happen all morning was a bird landing in the neighbor’s tree.
The Dursleys were leaving for a long weekend at the seaside with the family of one of Uncle Vernon’s colleagues, and as always, Harry had been informed he was not invited on the family holiday.
Which were Harry’s favorite words in the world to hear. Because whenever the Dursleys went away on their wonderful trips and weekends, Harry got to leave Privet Drive, too.
Harry pressed closer to the clean windowpane. Outside, Uncle Vernon was stuffing suitcases into the car while Dudley wailed about wanting to bring more toys and complained that there wasn’t enough room for another suitcase.
Then Harry heard it.
A crack echoed down the street.
Harry spun around and bolted downstairs.
“He’s here!” he shouted, skidding into the kitchen where Aunt Petunia was watering her houseplants.
“Don’t run in the house!” she snapped. “You’ll break something!”
Uncle Vernon stomped into the kitchen behind her. “The car’s all packed. I told you, Petunia, the boot is perfectly suited for all our luggage. High-quality engineering.”
“Uncle Vernon, Sirius is here! You don’t have to worry about traffic anymore, he’s right on time!”
Uncle Vernon checked his watch with a grunt. “Did he? Of course. Unemployed layabout.”
Harry frowned. “Sirius has a job. He works for the bank.”
“Of course he’s unemployed,” Vernon said loudly. “That’s why you live here eating my food and living off my hard-earned salary, you ungrateful—”
“Really, Vernon?”
The kitchen fell silent.
Harry turned and saw Sirius leaning casually in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Well then,” Sirius continued lightly, “I’d love to know what happens to the monthly stipend I send for Harry’s care.”
“Sirius!” Harry shouted.
He ran straight at his godfather, and Sirius knelt to hug him tightly.
“You packed?” Sirius asked.
Harry nodded eagerly.
“Brilliant.”
With an easy flick of his wand, Sirius summoned Harry’s backpack from upstairs. It shot down the staircase and into his waiting hand.
“I told you,” Uncle Vernon sputtered, his face turning purple, “not to do that dangerous, ridiculous nonsense in my house!”
Sirius straightened slowly. He was much taller than Vernon, and Vernon instinctively took a step backward as Sirius approached.
“My apologies, Vernon,” Sirius said smoothly, slipping his wand into his pocket. “I’ll try not to terrify you with magic an eleven-year-old can manage.”
Vernon opened and closed his mouth a few times before muttering, “Right. Well. No time to waste. We’ve got a drive ahead of us.”
Sirius turned to Aunt Petunia. “I’ll bring Harry back Sunday evening.”
Petunia gave a stiff nod and a sharp sniff but didn’t say a word.
Then Sirius took Harry’s hand, and together they walked down Privet Drive. Somehow the street already seemed brighter, more alive, simply because Harry was leaving it behind.
“Do I have to come back?” Harry asked quietly after a moment. “I want to live with you.”
Sirius squeezed his hand gently and smiled down at him.
“Just wait until you’re seventeen.”
“That’s ages away!”
“Only ten years,” Sirius said lightly. “And you’ll spend most of them at Hogwarts. Trust me, once you get there, you’ll barely think about Privet Drive at all.”
Harry sighed. There was no point arguing. Sirius always gave the same answer. Harry had to stay with the Dursleys, and Sirius would always be there whenever he needed him.
Still, Harry knew he was lucky. Lots of people didn’t have anyone at all. Harry had Sirius, and Harry knew—without a doubt—that Sirius loved him.
“Can we fly our brooms this weekend?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Of course. And we’ll go to the bookshop and get ice cream in Diagon Alley too.”
Harry’s face broke into a grin so wide it almost hurt.
He was going to have the best weekend ever.
