Elegant luxury

Rainbow flag colorpicked from the original 1978 flag <3

this is my favorite of all the rainbow flags because a) the stripes mean things: sex, life, healing, sunlight, nature, magic, harmony, and spirit. Sex (hot pink) and magic (turquoise) were more difficult colors to get which is why the standard flag is six colors, but those are my favorite colors! Both as colors and as meanings!

and b) we know for a stone cold fact that Gilbert Baker meant this flag to be for Everybody In The Family, which has gotten a little lost in the emphasis on individual flags for different identities, to the point where some people are starting to think the six-color rainbow is only for gay men

anyway thank you this was nice to see on a Monday, hello beautiful

— Nicholas Rombes, The Absolution of Roberto Acestes Laing (via bobschofield)

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.

(Aaron Freeman, “Planning Ahead Can Make A Difference In The End”)

Leaving so soon?

< chris richard . danilo ricci >

pure queer joy

Unreal

(will be cross-posted to AO3)

It starts during the war.

Draco learns that he can just… disappear. Stop being there, even if it’s only in his mind. He learns to disconnect, to shut it all down and go away. He’s not sure where he goes,exactly, but then again, it doesn’t matter. Anywhere is better than home.

The problem is, it becomes a habit, and then a reflex. Even once he’s safe, back at Hogwarts, he can’t make it stop. And no one seems to notice, Draco realizes. No one notices that most of the time, he’s just gone.

He still manages to make it to his classes on-time, and sometimes studying can shut down the buzzing in his head. He eats his meals with the few friends he has left and endures the long nights alone. Sometimes he jerks off in the shower at 2 am. Sometimes he wanders the castle.

He endures. He doesn’t really live, but it’s easier this way.

The first time he encounters Potter, it’s close to dawn, the sky coming to life in incremental shades of grey. Draco’s at the top of the Astronomy Tower, watching the way the world wakes up.

He hears the sound of someone on the stairs, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing does, when he’s like this.

The footsteps stop and there’s a quick intake of breath. Draco doesn’t bother turning to see who it is, and on some level, he already knows. Who else could it be?

“Malfoy,” Potter says quietly, and Draco doesn’t look at him, just makes a little shrugging motion to indicate he’s aware there’s another person here.

Potter slides down the wall, sitting closer than etiquette allows, but the heat of him pressed up against Draco’s side is nice.

“What are you looking at?” Potter asks, gazing up into the sky as if he still has questions he hasn’t gotten the answers to.

Draco shrugs again and finally turns his head. Potter is right there, and now he’s looking at Draco, like he’s real. Like he can see Draco. Like Draco’s a person, not a ghost.

All of a sudden it’s as if the curtain’s been drawn back, and now there’s nothing separating Draco from the world. He can feel the damp in the air as he inhales, the rough stone of the wall at his back, and he takes him in, larger than life, Potter. Potter with his stupid hair and his stupid scar and his stupid green eyes that see far too much.

Potter frowns, and then hesitantly reaches up, places one warm hand on Draco’s cheek, cold and damp under the gentle touch. Draco’s arm moves of its own volition, his hand lifting to cover Potter’s.

“Are you okay?” Potter whispers.

Draco shakes his head, and then lets himself slide in, lets himself lean for just one moment on that strong shoulder. Even if he hasn’t earned it, he thinks. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“No,” he whispers back, eyes closed against the confession.

Draco thinks of fire and smoke, snakes and screaming. Ash on his tongue. He thinks of a boy, raised alone and unknown, thrown into a war when he was still a child. He thinks of loss and grief, of crumbling foundations and despair.

“Are you?” Draco asks, and he feels Harry’s hand tighten on his face for a moment, and then it relaxes.

“No,” Harry says finally. “I’m not.”

A gourmet bitch 💅💎

everytime I remember that lesbian couple that have a marble statue of the two of them embracing and sleeping on a bed together over where their graves will be because the artists didn’t believe they would be able to be married before they died, so what they couldn’t have in life they could have in death, I fucking breakdown

memorial to a marriage; patricia cronin

- Caitlin Doughty, on the Death in the Afternoon podcast

@taikawaititi: The world is full of cultures with a shared experience of historical hurt   at the hands of colonizers. How beautiful to see indigenous peoples everywhere uniting to support this movement. Across the globe but especially here on Turtle Island. Mauri Ora.

#Repost @_illuminatives • • • • • • The jingle dress dance is a healing dance. This week those blessings were shared with the family of George Floyd and the community of Minneapolis, MN. The dance took place at the site of Floyd’s murder. Together we will heal and find solutions. #BlackLivesMatter #WeAreAllRelated

My heart…..

Beautiful

Royalty AU Drarry and of course Draco will have a white peacock.

Thanks for the request!! @drarryruinedme7 (although it might not quite meet your request I’m sorry)

You were meant to be here. The universe worked for billions of years to create you. Whole stars lived and died for you to exist. They sacrificed themselves so that you could rise from their ashes. Their dust is in your bones, their light in your thoughts. You see beauty where they could only shine. You feel warmth where they could only burn. What a miracle you are, you living, breathing thing. You have a place in this universe. You were meant to see, to feel, to know, to love. You were meant to be here. 

Peter Jackson Remembers Sir Ian Holm

The Wonderful Sir Ian Holm

I’m feeling very sad at the passing of Sir Ian Holm.

Ian was such a delightful, generous man. Quiet, but cheeky, with a lovely twinkle in his eye.

Back in early 2000, before we started shooting our Bilbo scenes for The Fellowship of the Ring, I was nervous about working with such an esteemed actor, but he immediately put me at ease. Standing in Bag End on the first day, before cameras started rolling, he took me to one side and said that he would be trying different things in every take, but I shouldn’t be alarmed. If, after five or six takes, he hadn’t given me what I needed, then by all means I should give him specific direction.

And that’s exactly what we did. But incredibly his varied line reads and performances were all quite wonderful. He rarely needed direction. He gave us an amazing range of choices to select from in the cutting room.

We settled into a very enjoyable four weeks, as we shot the first 30 minutes of Fellowship.

One day we had Bilbo delivering an account of his early adventures to an audience of spellbound three and four year olds, who are sitting cross legged at his feet in the party field. We started by filming Ian’s performance telling the story - but we also needed angles on the children reacting to various dramatic moments. But young kids get bored very quickly, and Ian and I quickly realised that they couldn’t hear the same story over and over again, as we captured the various angles we needed.

I suggested that to keep the kids’ attention, he should make the story a little different in each take … adding extras bits, making stuff up … so long as he gave us the essence of what was in the script. I told him not to worry and that I’d figure it out in the cutting room.

However, we also needed the kids to stay in place while we quickly moved the cameras around, from one angle to another. On a film set, “quickly” means 15 - 20 minutes. So, while this was happening, and no cameras were rolling, I whispered to Ian that he was going to have to keep them entertained. I helpfully suggested that he could, “tell them other stories between shots”. And that’s exactly what he did. After a couple of hours, we shot everything we needed.

As the kids were ushered off set, and the crew moved onto the next sequence, Ian said that he’d never worked so hard in his life!

Over a decade later, we hoped that Ian would play Bilbo again for the opening scenes of The Hobbit. Fran and I had dinner with Ian and his wife Sophie in London, and he told us that he was very sorry, but he couldn’t do it. Adding to our shock, he confided that he’d been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, and could no longer remember lines. He had difficulty walking, and certainly couldn’t travel to New Zealand. Always a private man, he told us that he’d basically retired, but wasn’t announcing it.

This was a blow because we had worked out a nice way to hand the role over from Ian as Old Bilbo, to Martin Freeman as Young Bilbo. I described this to him, and he liked it. I also told him how my mother and an uncle had both endured Parkinson’s for years, and I was very familiar with the effects of the disease.

At this point, our dinner - which we thought would be about us describing the new scenes we’d like him to do, and Ian thought would be about him explaining why he couldn’t do it - suddenly turned into a think tank, with Ian, Sophie, Fran and I trying to figure out a process that would allow Ian to play Bilbo one last time. 

We’re shooting the movies in New Zealand - but what say we came to London and shoot his scenes close to home?  By the end of the dinner he nodded slowly, and said, “Yes, I think I could do that”. But I knew he was only doing it as a favour to me, and I held his hands and thanked him with tears in my eyes.We started shooting in New Zealand with Martin Freeman, as our Young Bilbo. Martin hugely admired Ian Holm but had never met him. However, Martin very generously agreed to wear prosthetic make-up to play Sir Ian Holm playing Old Bilbo, for some NZ based wide shots that we needed, and he captured his mannerisms very well.

A couple of months later we returned to London, taking our Bag End set with us, and filmed Ian’s shots with a tiny crew as we promised. Ian’s lovely wife Sophie was at his side every day, helping both him and us.

Over the course of four days we filmed everything we needed. Elijah Wood and Ian had become friends back on Lord of the Rings, and Elijah was on set in London every day, giving Ian additional support.In the finished movie, I hope that audiences just see Ian Holm reprising Bilbo. But what I experienced on set was a wonderful actor delivering his last performance. It was incredibly brave of him to do that, and very emotional for those who witnessed it.

We will always be enormously grateful to Ian for doing that. During our time together, Fran and I became so fond of him, and we enjoyed his company very much.

To celebrate the completion of filming, Ian and Sophie invited Fran and I to dinner at their house. That was a lovely night, full of humour and fun. Ian and I realised we both had a strong mutual interest in Napoleon and chatted about him for hours.

A year later, when the first Hobbit movie premiered in London, a slightly star-struck Martin Freeman finally got to meet Ian Holm.

Watching Ian Holm perform taught me so much - as Ian was being his usual quiet self, that just somehow happened. It was a privilege to work with him, and a blessing to know him.

I’ve always loved Ian’s performance in the final scenes of Return of the King.

“I think I’m quite ready for another adventure.”

Farewell, dear Bilbo. Safe travels, darling Ian.

Peter Jackson

I’ve been in a drawing mood lately, so of course I had to draw our boys from one of my all-time-favorite fics, @lumosinlove‘s amazing “Solntse”. So here’s some cute call-boy Remus and Russian architect Sirius! <3 ( I still can’t get over how good this fic is, dammit Hazel you’ve ruined me. XD )  

so I just wanted to post it again, since the first one got so blurry^^

Keep reading

An autumn afternoon by the lake.

Parenting not from toxic ways our parents did to us

Speak life into each other