Another stupid idea that never leaves my head is Percy getting hurt (sibling shenanigans) and he’s in a coma. Dark and quiet until he hears his own voice talk back to him. Multiple voices of him screaming.

There’s the old man version of him. A father, grandfather, and great-grandfather who has lived his life; long, beautiful, and prosperous. A pillar of knowledge and secrets. He has seen his family go from bright burning red to a peaceful grey. Old and tired but still beloved.

The other is him but it’s more a reflection of the father he lost in young adulthood for the greater good. Tall and strict, but with such kindhearted blue eyes. A boy turned man who had to come home bitter and without closure. Became the head of a house whose members only ever see another person in his face.

The last is the youngest. Eyes full of stars and a smile reminiscent of mischievous younger siblings. This one is the baby of three sons, a mother lost to a war; young siblings to never be. He travels, explores, researches, finds adventure, and new friendships wherever he goes; to honor older brothers who became second and third fathers.

They wake Percy up and follow him home, into his life. New and different, but similar all the same. Faces known and unknown. Other faces only ever known through photographs, other people’s memories. A second chance at what could’ve been.

Percy has to navigate his life while keeping it HIS. Lest he’s become sidelined, something he is far too accustomed to.

heres most of the notes i have for brisbane meshi. i could draw this forever probably

static

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

This baby remained under the rubble for six hours. Read it again. By some miracle, he survived and he was rescued. But his mother who was holding him didn't. He looks like he's in shock, you can see tears coming out of his eyes but no expression or any sound to indicate his pain.

We are not numbers. Make an effort to end this.

Three of Emily O’Leary’s hand-hooked dog rugs (@emiliaoleary); bottom two photos were shot by Bucky Miller for an installation in his Wraymour&Flanigan project (strongly recommend seeing the full installation photos!)

This is a friendly heads up that the Oxford School of Rare Jewish Languages has opened applications for their language classes beginning in Michaelmas term (October) 2023. They offer classes in 18 Jewish languages, including Old Yiddish. Classes are on Zoom, so applicants can live anywhere in the world. The deadline to apply is September 5, 2023.

Was bored, doodled a design for form of dread Laudna then Imogen, which then turns into drawing more doodles of them of an AU (?)

man loves his takoyaki

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Well, in MY Percy goes back in time story I wrote in my head he’s his siblings brother through and through. Sure he loves his mom and dad BUT

-He writes Bill and Charlie letters every week.

-Helps Fred and George with their business plans.

-Puts Ron in wizard chess competitions.

-Let’s Ginny join in little league quidditch.

-And once he realizes Harry’s home life SUCKS, kidnaps him every summer.

Like constantly on the brink of having a mental breakdown, but HE IS THE FAVORITE SIBLING NOW!!!!!!!!

Sucker punching death eaters for his itty bitty siblings. He punches Yaxley twice. Pettigrew has two broken kneecaps. Malfoy gets a buzz cut.

His dad is terrified it’s the Black Family Madness®️

imagine suguru using your toys after discovering his newfound infatuation for being pegged. while your away, he’d rifle through your clothes until he found your used panties. just the smell of you riddled in them had his dick rising. shoving them in his mouth, rubbing them across his face, he’d bounce on your (now his) favorite dildo to thoughts of you defiling him. he could practically hear you, hear your sweet voice chastise him for being such a needy slut. what kind of whore grabs his mistress’ used panties and fucks her toys to fantasies of riding her? a nasty fuckin bitch, that’s who.

“‘m sorry for being a needy bitch, mistress.” he’d pant into the air, eyes screwed shut. using his free hand, he’d jerk himself off, edging himself closer to release.

“please let me cum, p-promise i’ll be good..”he whined as he doubled over, his cum spurting out of his slit, pearly and pretty as you would’ve called it had you been there. he rides his orgasm out, begging for you.

his cum stains the purple bedding you set out this morning before heading out. you won’t be pleased to find that your sweet boy couldn’t control himself, and sullied it. it’d be in his best interest to clean up quickly before you get home because God knows what punishment awaits him if things stay the way they are.

those are the same thoughts that ran laps in his dirty little mind as he heard your keys in the door and your steps passing through the threshold.

A couple of criminals (they’re best friends)

funny purple dog you get endless health issues

favourite scenes from pacific rim 3 💙

im a simple guy! i think about puppy Barnaby. i promptly explode into bloody heart-shaped confetti