why haven’t I seen anyone posting about that giant fucking baby penguin in Melbourne that’s bigger than some of the adults already
his name is Pesto <3
this bastard weighs 46 lbs at 9 months old. he’s 22 lbs heavier than his PARENTS
OMG I SAW THIS LAD IN PERSON AND LOST EVERY OUNCE OF SHIT I’VE EVER POSSESSED
Look at him!
Also he was separated with one of his parents when I saw him but obviously wanted to Be Where The People Penguins Are so they’d set him up with a little rock stool so he could gaze upon his brethren:
Which enabled me to capture the single funniest video I’ve ever taken of anything in my life:
All hail Pesto! The king of chonk!
He’s adventurous, cheeky, sings to the caretakers who clean his enclosure and has been seen CANOODLING with a penguin named Pudding.
Pesto’s 2025 birthday party ❤️ his birthday is actually 1/31, get your plans ready
Extremely irksome as an autistic person to ask a clarifying question and be told you’re “splitting hairs” when you genuinely just don’t understand because there isn’t enough information. Like, buddy. This is me at my most basic level of “what do you mean by that.” You wanna see me split hairs? If you really saw how thin I could slice a hair you’d hurl
I will split a hair into smaller halves every hour my demands of mutual participation in communication are not met
i made a handy chart titled “i cannot shut up about earthsea”
Can you please not put this shit in the Harry Potter tag, for fucks sake?
harry potter fans are the intended audience of this post
If you desperately want a book about British slave-owning colonialist wizards trying to preserve the status quo, please read the Bartimaeus Trilogy. It has three narrators: A wizard, a commoner, and one of the wizards’ slaves
The author basically took one look at Harry Potter and went “that is ABSOLUTELY NOT what would happen if British people had magic”
Here’s what he said in an interview:
How did you come up with that “other” London where magicians are actually a group of tyrants who enslave djinn and other creatures, and rule over the non-magician people? Where did this idea come from?
This was almost the first idea I had - I was reacting to the whole Harry Potter idea where the magicians are (mostly) good guys with long beards who are pretty cosy and safe. I thought that if there really were magicians, they would quickly take power for themselves, and an elite of politician-magicians would soon develop. I liked the idea of a British Prime Minister who was a magician - I thought it was quite funny and also quite serious, because it explores the problems of how governments and people work together. In some of the countries where the trilogy has been published (such as Italy) there is a lot of interest in the whole political side of the story - even more so than the magic!
if you want butterflies, you need to live with caterpillars.
i am not being metaphorical, i work in a garden center, stop buying plants ‘to bring in the bees and butterflies’ and then immediately poisoning every caterpillar that dares to consume a single leaf
you will not get butterflies if you kill all the things that turn into butterflies! what are you doing!
This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!
Shane/Ilya | Explicit | 3,752 words | Canon compliant
Summary:
“What’s wrong?” “My back itches.” “Where?” Ilya asked next, his face neutral. “Just— never mind. Go back to sleep.” [Or, Shane Hollander has an itch to scratch. Literally.]
There’s an itch in his back that he cannot get.
He’s been tossing and turning in bed trying to get it but there’s no relief to be had from it. It gets under Shane’s skin, making him irritable and grumpy.
Ilya turns his head in his direction with a frown; Ilya is not his best self at 7 in the morning.
“Hollander, you are being impossible to sleep with. What is wrong with you?”
For some reason, Shane feels silly about it. He’s a grown adult, he can scratch his own itches —most of the time, at least.
“Nothing,” he says, too quickly to be casual. The itch in his back gets worse; it feels as if something is slowly crawling up his spine. He wonders if it’s his t-shirt. He fell asleep with one of Ilya’s soft, well-worn Raiders t-shirt. He kept it when Ilya left the cottage, as a reminder that his boyfriend — his boyfriend!— had been with him the weeks before. He’d worn it to sleep multiple times in his apartment in Montreal, he knew it was soft enough to sleep in. And Shane had actually washed it with his own unscented soap afterwards, so it wasn’t like he was sleeping in a grimy old t-shirt. It was a little cold in Ilya’s place in Boston the previous night, so after they fucked their brains out, Shane put on a pair of pajama pants and Ilya’s old t-shirt.
Ilya had been very happy to see Shane in his clothes. Extremely. Enough they ended up blowing each other lazily before any sleep happened.
ALT
