#but i don’t mind bc i do it anyways LOL

[aerequets]

Ur art is such an inspiration and motivation for me, as a fellow artist. I’ve been following ur stuff for a bit now and I was wondering how you decided to draw loid, yor, and anya the way you do. I say this bc I really want to start making my own fan arts, but i struggle to take this anime style and have these character read as [insert character] without it being in a “anime style.”

And I guess this applies to any character you want take from a media, and translate it into your style. Bc i don’t necessarily think ur art style is considered “anime” i kinda just see it as an abstraction ig. But even if it is, it isn’t in the style of anime show is yk? Yet the characters read as who they’re supposed to be.

And I think a while back you u mentioned that you were struggling on decided how to draw loid. ig i wanna know How did you come to the decision that “yes, this looks correct and I wanna draw him like this.”

Is it finding defining feature and proportions? Just messing around until you figure something out? And I assume you make a character sheet to keep it consistent?

Like i literally go to art school but cant draw anything without a reference photo and it killing me 😔💀💀

Sorry for the yapp i’m just down bad rn and really love ur work. Please help be get out of the reference photo trap😭

Also sorry if this reads weird and has errors i’m sleep deprived and can’t bring myself to go back and reread

WHAIUGOUGH???? UR TOO KIND??? THANK U

i will try my best to answer below, but i dont think it is anything profound or super secret lmao

so i think that artists get really caught up with finding/establishing a style when they are first starting out. i say this because i was no different. to me it was like 'oh if i have a style then i am a Real artist instead of just a copier'

but like, i think that order is backwards. like the more that you draw things you enjoy, the more those drawings will become your own and in your 'style' if that makes sense. heavy emphasis on the quantity here. you just gotta go really at it. and the best way to do this is through sheer quantity tbh.

however at the same time, i dont really agree with the whole 'draw x things per day every day' thing cuz sometimes thats just hard man. i mean you mentioned you were in art school so you're probably drawing every day anyways, but for a hobbyist or fanartist (me lol) its mostly based on whether u feel like drawing or not. Which is why its rlly cool when you have a show/book/movie/anything you're really into which makes you want to draw more! it becomes something fun rather than a chore.

so basically, dont view a style as something you have to develop right away, or turn drawing into a chore, because that will be very counteractive trust me.

another important thing i wanted to mention, you said "reference photo trap" but ITS NOT A TRAP! USE REFERENCES!!! REFERENCES ARE IMPORTANT AND GOOD (i am assuming you already know this, but using references is not the same as tracing. just to make it clear)

this is another thing common with newer artists (and of course how i used to be), where you feel like you have to draw 'from your mind' for it to be an indicator of any skill. NOT TRUE!! you need to use references to get better!

lastly, to answer your question (as best i can lol) there was never any point when i decided 'yes this is it' when drawing. you just draw and draw and keep changing and growing. it is a little of everything you said (defining features, proportions, messing around) but it is also just drawing a lot and having fun! :D oh and i definitely do not have a character sheet. i am not anywhere near that organized LMAO

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Delicate Part VI

sirius black x reader - delicate part vi

word count: 2k

summary: this is part vi of a sirius black x ravenclaw!reader series. a slow burn romance with platonic remus x reader and maybe some flirtatious remus x reader if you squint a lot lol

warnings: y/n is from ravenclaw (not sure if that’s even a needed warning) so sorry if that’s not your house, allusion to divorced parents

a/n: so it was a struggle to include peter bc for some reason he doesn’t exist in my mind… also while editing i realized that y/n and remus might come off a little too flirty but i PROMISE it isn’t leading to an awkward jealous sirius that thinks they’re dating!!!! anyways have a lovely day and happy thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate <33

The wind bit at y/n’s cheeks as she walked beside Remus, their footsteps crunching softly in the thin layer of snow that blanketed the Hogwarts grounds. The winter chill had settled in, the sun already dipping below the horizon despite the early hour. Y/n pulled her cloak tighter around herself, glancing at Remus, who seemed unaffected by the cold.

     “You’re seriously not going home for Christmas?” Remus asked, his breath visible in the icy air. His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

     Y/n shrugged, looking out at the frozen Black Lake. “No point, really. My mom’s on some cruise she booked months ago, and my dad’s spending the holiday with my brother and his family.” She paused, her voice growing quieter. “It’s fine. They don’t expect me to come home.”

     Remus frowned, slowing his pace to match hers. “That doesn’t sound fine,” he said gently. “You’re not just going to stay here, are you?”

     “That’s the plan.” Y/n forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s not so bad. The castle’s quiet, and I’ll have plenty of time to study.”

     Remus snorted. “You and your studying. You’ll drive yourself mad with all that quiet.”

     Y/n rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a genuine smile this time. “I’ll survive. It’s only a couple of weeks.”

     They walked in silence for a moment, the snow crunching beneath their boots. Then Remus stopped abruptly, turning to face her.

     “Come to the Potters’ with me,” he said. The words were straightforward, as if the solution was obvious. “James and his parents always invite me for the holidays. You’d be welcome there.”

     Y/n hesitated, her breath hitching in her throat. “Remus, I can’t just show up at someone else’s house for Christmas. That’s—”

     “That’s what friends do,” Remus interrupted, his tone firm but kind. “They make sure you’re not alone. And trust me, Mrs. Potter would love having another guest. She spoils everyone rotten. You wouldn’t be intruding.”

     “I don’t know…” Y/n trailed off, glancing down at her boots. “I’d feel out of place. It’s your time with them. I don’t want to—”

     “You wouldn’t be out of place,” Remus said softly. “And you wouldn’t be intruding.”

     Before y/n could respond, the sound of footsteps approached from behind. Turning, she saw James Potter striding toward them, his scarf flapping in the wind. Sirius followed closely behind, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.

     “Oi! What are you two doing out here?” James called, his grin as bright as ever. His hazel eyes darted between them. “Bit cold for a stroll, isn’t it?”

     “Just talking,” Remus replied, stepping aside to let James join them.

     “Talking about what?” James asked, eyeing them both curiously.

     Remus glanced at y/n, who shifted uncomfortably under James’s gaze. Finally, Remus answered, his voice steady. “About Christmas. Y/n’s staying at Hogwarts this year.”

     “What?” James’s grin faltered, replaced by a look of genuine concern. “Why? Don’t you have family to go to?”

     Y/n hesitated, glancing at Remus before answering. “Not really. My mom’s traveling, and my dad has other plans. It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine here.”

      “No, you won’t,” James said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re coming to my house.”

     “James, really, I—”

     “Lily will be there too,” James interrupted, his grin returning. “She’s staying for the holidays. You’ll have plenty of company. And my mum will stuff you so full of food you won’t know what to do with yourself.”

     Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but James wasn’t finished.

     “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he added, his tone light but insistent. “Remus is right—you can’t spend Christmas alone. And trust me, my mum would love you. She’ll probably knit you a jumper by the time you walk through the door.”

     Y/n glanced at Sirius, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. His grey eyes flicked to hers for the briefest moment before darting away again, his expression unreadable. The silence between them was heavy, the tension palpable.

     “I don’t want to be a bother,” y/n said finally, her voice softer now.

     “You won’t be,” James said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, I insist. Right, Sirius?”

     Sirius, who had been staring off toward the lake, seemed to snap back to attention. His gaze lingered on y/n for a moment before he shrugged, his voice unusually subdued. “Yeah. Sure.”

     The awkwardness of his response hung in the air, and y/n felt her cheeks warm despite the cold. She glanced at Remus, who gave her an encouraging nod.

     “Alright,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re sure it’s okay… I’ll come.”

     James beamed, his grin as wide as ever. “Brilliant! It’s going to be the best Christmas ever. You’ll see.”

     As the group began to make their way back toward the castle, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Sirius’s silence spoke louder than any of James’s cheerful assurances. Whatever it meant, she wasn’t sure she was ready to find out.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     The train to King’s Cross was alive with the buzz of students, their laughter and conversations spilling out into the corridors. Somehow, James had managed to secure a cabin for all six of them, though it was a tight fit.

     Remus claimed the window seat first, settling in with a book as usual. Y/n slid in beside him, and Peter flopped down next to her, already munching on a chocolate frog he’d dug out of his pocket. On the opposite bench, James and Lily sat close together, their shoulders brushing, while Sirius slouched next to James, his posture lazy but his eyes distant.

     The train jolted as it began to move, and the faint whistle of wind outside sent a chill through the cabin. Y/n tugged her cloak tighter around herself, trying to ward off the lingering cold.

     “You alright?” Remus asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

     “Just a bit cold,” she admitted, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

     Without a word, Remus unwound his scarf from his neck, the soft gray wool slightly frayed at the edges. He leaned over and draped it around her shoulders, adjusting it snugly.

     “Better?” he asked with a small smile.

     Y/n looked up at him, warmth blooming in her chest despite the cold. “Better,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against the scarf.

     Across from them, Lily gave a small smile as she watched the exchange, while James nudged Sirius with his elbow. Sirius barely glanced up, muttering something under his breath before returning his gaze to the window.

     “Cheer up, Pads,” James said, grinning as he leaned back in his seat. “It’s Christmas! You should be in the festive spirit.”

     “I’m fine,” Sirius replied, his tone clipped but not unkind.

     James raised an eyebrow, but Lily quickly distracted him, pointing out the frost-covered fields speeding by outside the window.

     The cabin grew quieter as the journey stretched on, the rhythmic clatter of the train lulling everyone into a peaceful stupor. Remus’s head eventually drooped, resting against the cold glass of the window as his book slipped from his lap onto the seat beside him.

     Y/n leaned back in her seat, the warmth of Remus’s scarf and the steady motion of the train making her eyelids grow heavy. She glanced at Peter, who was now snoring softly with his head tilted back, and then at Remus, whose breathing had evened out in sleep.

     Before she realized it, her head dipped sideways, coming to rest on Remus’s shoulder. He didn’t stir, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing was comforting, anchoring her in the moment.

     Across from them, Lily and James whispered quietly, their voices blending with the soft hum of the train. Every now and then, James would laugh, the sound muted but warm, while Lily’s quiet giggles filled the space between. Sirius, still slouched in his seat, glanced at the two of them, his eyes lingering on their easy closeness.

     His gaze shifted briefly to Y/n and Remus, and he watched them for a moment—Remus with his head against the window, Y/n leaning against his shoulder, the gray scarf bundled around her. Something flickered in Sirius’s expression, but it was gone before it could be deciphered. He turned back to the window, his reflection blurring with the snowy countryside rushing past.

     The cabin remained peaceful. The occasional murmur of conversation and the soft rustle of movement were the only sounds, making it easy to forget the bustling world outside. As the train sped toward King’s Cross, time seemed to slow, and for just a moment, everything felt still.

     The train’s wheels screeched to a halt at King’s Cross Station, jolting everyone in the cabin awake. Y/n blinked, groggy and disoriented, realizing she was still leaning against Remus’s shoulder. He stirred, rubbing his eyes and offering her a small, sleepy smile before standing and stretching his long limbs.

     “Come on, lazy lot,” James said as he hefted his trunk down from the rack. “We’ve got a Christmas feast waiting for us.”

     The group made their way through the bustling platform, weaving between families reuniting and trunks clattering over the cobblestones. Lily walked with James, their hands brushing but never quite intertwining, while Peter lagged behind, struggling to keep hold of his luggage. Sirius, unusually quiet, helped Remus with his trunk before shouldering his own, his sharp gaze flicking occasionally toward Y/n.

     They stepped out of the station and into the crisp winter air, the faint hum of the city buzzing in the background. The cold bite of the evening settled in, but Y/n barely noticed it as they made their way down the platform toward the waiting trolley.

     James grinned, turning to Y/n with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “All set for the holiday?” he asked, his voice bright, the usual confidence in his tone. His hand rested easily on Lily’s shoulder as she laughed softly beside him.

      “I suppose so,” Y/n replied, glancing at Remus, who was now holding his trunk with a steady hand, his calm demeanor unchanged by the hustle of the station. Sirius, trailing behind them all, seemed quieter than usual, his dark eyes scanning the crowd.

     “I’ll carry yours,” Remus said, nodding toward her trunk before she could reach for it. “You’ve had a long day.”

     Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but Remus was already lifting the heavy trunk without waiting for her response. She sighed but didn’t argue, instead watching as Sirius fell into step beside her. He didn’t say anything, but there was a soft energy in his presence, as if he wasn’t as distant as he appeared.

     The trolley came into view, and the group gathered around, their trunks securely fastened, the noise of the bustling station now fading into the background. As they climbed onto the trolley, Sirius took a seat by the window, leaning back with his arms folded across his chest. He caught Y/n’s eye for a fleeting moment, and though he didn’t smile, the brief connection made her feel slightly more at ease.

     The wheels of the trolley began to turn, pulling them away from the busy platform, and as the train rattled onward, the familiar sounds of conversation and laughter filled the cabin. James and Lily continued to chat animatedly, their voices rising in occasional bursts of laughter, while Remus read quietly, lost in his book.

     Sirius, though still distant, seemed more at ease now. He looked out the window, his gaze steady and contemplative, as the landscape of King’s Cross Station shrank behind them.

     The trolley ride to the Potters’ house felt like a quiet pause in the storm of her own thoughts, and as the glow of the station finally faded from sight, she allowed herself to relax, just for a moment. Christmas was coming, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t dreading it.

[ranahan]

i've been pondering how mando'a-as-first-language speakers might tend to parse [θ] and [ð]... we know <x> = <sh> thanks to ryan kaufmann (which i'd say must be canon enough since traviss didn't contradict it) and [f ~ p] and [z ~ s] from Traviss, (and maybe <vh> = [f] at least dialectally a la Vhett -> Fett, but I'd prefer to think that's more a matter of Basic speakers parsing [ɸ] as [f] than [ɸ ~ f] being widespread in mando'a) but I don't think we have any data on how they'd tend to parse [θ] and [ð]. I like the idea of th-fronting where [θ] becomes [ɸ] and [ð] becomes [v ~ ʋ] (Kiwi English is allegedly developing this phenomenon), but since mando'a phonotactics don't seem to allow [ɸ] outside of a syllable-initial position (of course since vhe- words are the only example we have of <vh> the data is a biiit limited, but if we assume it's true) I do wonder how likely mando'ade would be to parse, for example, the [θ] in "cloth" as [ɸ], or if they'd be more likely to parse it as [t] or [s]. Tho I do also like the th-fronting bc I wanna distance <vh> from <f> as much as possible :') Not a cipher! 🗞️

On the other hand I'm a bit charmed by [θ] -> [s] as well, mostly bc I associate it with the Askie pronunciation of ת‎, historically [θ] which has in different regions either remained as such or become [t] (Modern Israeli) or [s] (Askenazi). But then the lack of [z] for [ð] (since [s] and [z] are not readily differentiated among mando'ade) makes it less ideal imo. I mean ofc they could be mismatchy, it's not like [ð] and [θ:] were replaced with other sounds neatly and evenly in Finnish (and there's that variation across dialects, which of course would be a thing among mando'ade as well--) But yeah, [ð] could be, if not [v ~ ʋ], then [d] or even [ɾ] or [l]... for obvious reasons I find the idea of the [ɾ] realisation pretty charming :')

anyway, uh, thoughts?

(yes i am thinking abt this bc loan words mostly)

(also. while generally i prefer [f] -> [p], ~kevhe [or whatever final vowel would be best...] for caf is much nicer than kep, lol...)

I’m afraid your ask is going to be better thought out than my answer!

I did think about the same thing, then thought about the option of ð being loaned as dh in Mando’a, and then got hung up in determining what the heck Mando’a phonology even is, and what do the dh etc. spellings stand for. And then never really got back to loanwords.

But now that I’ve found an answer that satisfies me, I do have a whole bunch of things I’d like to loan to Mando’a actually, because I for one don’t buy that a language of an empire, itself a creole (if you subscribe to that headcanon), does not have many loanwords. You know that joke about English mugging other languages and riffling through their pockets for loose vocabulary? I think it would be more realistic for people to make similar jokes about Mando’a, and how Mandalorians plundered half of the galaxy and half of the dictionaries too. (Yes, this is the hill someone else will die on.)

Anyways, yes I do have thoughts. Sorry this is going to be very long and rambling because these are more of immediate thoughts rather than something I’ve formed a considered opinion on.

Like you, I’ve also noted that vh only occurs in syllable initial position in the Mando’a dictionary. But! There’s a Mandalorian world called Ceravh, which as far as I can tell comes from Traviss. I’d give that even odds of being Mando’a or being (perhaps a Mandalorianised version of) a native name of the colonised world, which could indicate that Mando’a could use syllable-final vh in loanwords at least.

But anyways, another option I have thought about is that a word-final φ could get loaned as v. Even if Mando’a doesn’t allow a syllable final φ, the voiced counterpart v is very common in that position. So e.g. caf > kav. Or heck, how about h? > kah. Idk how sensible h would be, it just popped into my mind as something that could sound similar and is allowed in the coda.

Another option of course is that Mando’a could insert extra vowels into loanwords, like e.g. te reo Māori which basically keeps all of the original sounds and adds vowels until the word conforms to te reo phonotactics. So e.g. caf > kavha or kevhe or whatever the vowels would be. There’s this quote, which has a different context, but be used as a precedent if you wanted? “Pronouncing terminal consonants varies in songs. They often become extra syllables. For examples, tor becomes to-rah and tang becomes tan-gah to maintain rhythm and meter.”

On the other hand, loanwords, especially old ones, could also be subject to Mando’a’s habit of contraction. Which tbh seems as much fanon as canon to me in that canon shows some contraction and elision (especially in compound words), but fanon has observed that pattern and taken it as a licence to go an extra mile. I kind of love that kind of an emergency and it’s what got me interested in Mando’a in the first place. I digress, but I’m trying to say faithfully borrowing every single sound is not necessarily the way I’d go for Mando’a. Maybe borrowing syllables as the closest equivalents would feel better? Idk, maybe I’ll try a couple of different approaches with some test sets of loanwords and see what happens.

I do generally like f > p, but… Idk, the results don’t always compel me? They don’t sound unlike Mando’a, but also not exactly like Mando’a either? I mean kav feels more like Mando’a than kap to me. Same for vhervhek vs perpek (although for obvious reasons, perpek does appeal as a curse). But on the other hand, fan > pan vs van vs vhan? Not much of a difference. And Fi > Pai, Felucia > Pelucya/Pelusha, even Falleen > Palin/Paliin do sound good to me. This is probably because while there are words that end in p (like kotep, taap), they are pretty rare. While words ending in v or beginning with a p are a dime in a dozen.

I agree that Vhett being spelled as Fett is a transliteration from Mando’a to Basic, and not necessarily indicative of how Mando’a L1 speakers would adapt loanwords from Basic to Mando’a.

Re: θ/ð, I’ve previously considered t/dʰ, but I like both s and th-fronting better! Those would be the closest fricatives, wouldn’t they.

Mando’a doesn’t seem to have /z/, which seems to be an allophone of /ts/ rather than /s/, if you go by Traviss’s recordings. Or maybe it’s an allophone of /s/, if you go by some comments. Heck, maybe it depends on the dialect. So perhaps you could go with s/ts, or level them both as s? I guess it would depend on whether z gets loaned as ts or s?

Or go with th-fronting (θ > ɸ, ð > v) in syllable initial positions, and for the coda, either voice the θ > v, or add an extra vowel after it, or allow φ in the coda for loanwords. I think that at least for dialects that realise <v> as [β], th-fronting sounds really close. I like it!

And since some Mando’a dialects seem to have [b ~ v] (or perhaps more likely [v ~ β], or maybe some dialect has /β/ which is heard as /b/ in some others…), after making the rounds in Mando’a dialects, a loan word might even end up with ð > v > b.

Full disclosure, I also like how either would make loanwords a little less immediately recognisable. But on the other hand, loanword phonology is also affected by the speakers’ understanding of the donor language, which might bias e.g. /t/ over /s/. Idk though how much we need to nitpick realism in an artlang though. Enough to ground it, not so much the art goes out.

And then we of course have the loan words Traviss picked from English:

besom /ˈbiː.zəm/ > besom /ˈbɛ.sɔm/

Bergen /ˈbəɹɡn/ > birgaan /bɪɾ.ɡaːn/

TAB /tæb/ > taab /taːb/

hyem /jɛm/> yaim /ʝaɪ̯m/

charva /ˈt͡ʃɑːvə/ > chaav’la /ˈt͡ʃɑːv.la/

chebs /tʃɛbs/ > shebs /ʃɛbs/

scran /skɹan/ > skraan /skɾaːn/

scunner /ˈska.nɐ/ > skanah /ska.nah/

(Geordie) way aye /ˈwaɪ.eɪ/ or (Pompey) weee /wiː/ > wayii /wa.jiː/

dinny /ˈdɪ.nɪ/> dinii /dɪ.niː/

jack /d͡ʒæk/ > jag /d͡ʒaɡ/ ?

(I’m not counting mhi and kando from that linked post, since they—or at least kandosii—are pre-Traviss Mando’a.)

Bit of a guess at the pronunciations because I’m not a Geordie and Traviss doesn’t do IPA, but I’m getting the feeling that the vowel qualities don’t match up that well. I might have loaned Bergen as *bargen or *begen instead. Besom i > ɛ I can excuse as levelling the vowels to the same height, which seems like something Mando’a is prone to. ɛ > aɪ̯ is interesting. But generally, I’m not sure what I’m looking at here? Maybe just artistic licence?

Of course if actual historical loans, we’d have to consider that those words might’ve been loaned from a dialect or at a time when the pronunciation differed from modern/RP pronunciation. Plus I at least like to think that Mando’a itself has many different dialects, so I’d be willing to excuse a degree of artistic licence and inconsistency, especially when it comes to vowels which are more fluid to begin with. Afaik it’s also not weird for natural languages to exhibit even considerable variation in loan word adaptation.

Ch is loaned both as ch and sh. Syllable-final r seems infrequently loaned (birgaan) or not (chaav’la) or loaned as h (skanah)—perhaps this reflects the (non)rhoticity of the dialect from which the loans came from, because Mando’a does have syllable-final r’s. Otherwise the consonants in these words seem unremarkable.

Talking about r though, I think there are some words in Mando’a where n > r in certain environments (or at least that could explain some etymologies). I guess it wouldn’t be too much a stretch to extend that to d and maybe ð. You can hear [kote], [kode] and [koɾe] or the Republic Commando OST. Imo this is simply the effect of singing on pronunciation (I was a trained singer once upon a time, I could go on about this), but Traviss seems to have taken it as t and d being interchangeable, or /kode/ being the archaic pronunciation and /kote/ modern.

Also as an aside, I kinda want to work out the phonetics of Huttese, because clearly Huttese (or trade/pidgin/creole Huttese, whatever they speak as a lingua franca in the Outer Rim) has lots of Basic loanwords, and I think that many Basic loanwords would probably arrive to Mando’a via Huttese rather than directly from Basic.

tldr: You have seem to have thought more about this than me. Do you have more thoughts? I’m not sure how much sense my reply made; it was bit of a brain vomit. I’ll probably go read some things and come back to this later with hopefully more sense, but I wanted to reply now because I’m not sure how busy I’ll be in the near future.

P.s. you wouldn’t happen to remember where you read about <x> = <sh>, [f ~ p] and [s ~ z]? I mean I remember reading some of those same things, but it was at least a year ago and I don’t seem to have saved the source (whoops). I can probably look up the source myself if you remember where it was. Might it have been this forum thread? “So, Xaga might have been "Shaga" (incorporating that "sh" sound the Mando like) and Zuka could've been Suka.”

[anyasters]

it resonated so hard, I'm polyam/aroace and it was just like. some twt users have permanent main character syndrome so bad, dnf in gay romantic love and other people using their brains to acknowledge the obvious is not oppressing us, please go read the wiki on occam's razor and then touch grass (okay sorry ty for letting me use your asks to vent 🫶)

no ur so right don’t apologize! i need to start just replying to silly shit with the occam’s razor wiki link bc like it simply does not ever need to be so fucking complicated lmao. but at the end of the day it doesn’t even matter bc we already won 😭💚 dnf in gay romantic love we did it joe

[ardentpoop]

so real @normalbrothershow

[goginaporter]

one thing I’ve seen a lot of portwells/ej stans mention is that the wildcats were “bad friends” for not helping ej with his stress/pinning more specific blame on gina for not helping her boyfriend when he was stressed. for one, this is kinda blatantly not true. besides the fact that ej refused to ask them for help (and understandably so) by not revealing that he was director at the beginning of 302 or inviting miss jenn to outsource help, for example, most of them helped him/offered to help in one way or another. gina constantly shared her faith in his abilities and even offered to step back on their relationship while at camp to allow him more free time. val appeared to fulfill a lot of the directing role with casting and helping to organize the readthrough. maddox helped with organizing auditions. carlos (along with val) organized rcosl to help get more drama. I could share more examples but they serve to highlight that when ej was drowning, he was not left at sea. a lot of his stress was intrinsic, and even all the help in the world was going to prevent it because of pressure he imposed on himself. to blame his friends, who were there to have fun, with the only responsibility on their plate being to learn their lines, is a misunderstanding of why he was stressed and how he could be helped. the best thing they could do for him was learn their roles for opening night. in fact, miss jenn literally tells him “if they know their lines, they’ll be fine.” i also wanna mention that ej didn’t really seem to be failing at directing. it was more of a combination of personal doubt and the introduction of the production being filmed. the latter likely placed stress on all of them and there was nothing that they could really do to change that for themselves, let alone ej. anyways, all this is leading up to my main question: what did you guys want the wildcats to do for ej? take on directing parts of the show while also learning their lines in under two weeks? magically find him a way to please his father? the stress that ej was under sucked. but it wasn’t the fault of his friends, nor could it disappear in the presence of sweet words. I just wanted to pose this inquiry to his stans and open it up for respectful debate!

[kuiinncedes]

:c

[starredforlife]

THE goal for holidays 2024 is to show up to the family jacked and tatted like I’ve wanted to for the past 2 years

[emotoangel]

where my chronic pain bitches at <3 just cried for 40 minutes because my endo pain was so severe I couldn’t move <33 I stay winning x

[phantomdecibel]

FUCK you: re-canonifies your Flower!AU

Anyways what if Polites actually still dies flower au au (bit o context in the tags, just so this drabble makes a bit more sense since it doesnt exactly follow canon aha-)

Rattlesnake Root

shield, step carefully.

Watching Ajax rush across the deck, calling out orders while cradling little Astyanax in his arms, the realization hit Odysseus like a brick.

This is what Polites had meant.

Eurylochus’s voice still echoed in his ears — but Odysseus wasn’t hearing any of it. Everything sounded muffled, like he was listening to (one of) his best friend chew him out from underwater. He must have started yelling louder, because the teenager glanced over at the two of them, something Odysseus hesitated to label as anything other than concern written across his face.

He wanted to yell.

He wanted to scream, keep shooting venom like arrows, jump up and pace, even.

Instead he stood, hands clasped over the rail, staring blankly past the blurred shape of his friend. It was both too loud and yet too quiet and annoyingly chilly and somehow everything was way too bright. It felt like there should be a storm brewing overhead, yet the only rain falling came from his eyes. The sun shone down unapologetically overhead, and Odysseus fought back an unintelligible scream.

This is what Polites had meant, what he’d pleaded back in that forest.

If you don’t talk to us, if you don’t trust us, then how can we help?

He’d thought he’d had it all under control, that his own hangups weren’t affecting anyone else, but clearly he’d been wrong. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or just plain ignorance, but Odysseus had fucked up, pushed too far.

He wanted to sob.

He was already crying, Odysseus realized in a vague, sort of detached way. His face felt… damp, and tight from the salt already starting to dry. Something hit his hand; again and again and again, and rolled down his knuckles.

Eurylochus yelled again, throwing his arms out, and Odysseus flinched.

How long had this been brewing?

How long had he been pushing his crew, his friends to the edge? For how long had he been pushing them to the side, ignoring their concerns and needs, forcing them to pick up his slack?

…when had his efforts to protect them start to hurt instead?

Slowly, Eurylochus’s face came back into focus.

His mouth moved and Odysseus could, technically, hear him still, but the words themselves were lost to the buzzing in his head. The tilt to his eyebrows would have looked angry — really, really angry — to anyone else, but Odysseus knew his friend. Eurylochus was angry, sure, but mostly he was just worried (and tired, so tired, and grieving, too). The man’s eyes glistened wetly, shining with unshed tears.

Odysseus barely noticed as he started to shake.

He did this. This was his fault, the result of his negligence. Polites was dead because of him, and now he was driving away the other person he should be supporting, looking after the most.

Odysseus clenched the rail tighter, clearly hearing it creak under his grip. Eurylochus’s voice faded in and out, nothing but background noise.

He’d failed.

Odysseus blinked once, twice, trying to alleviate the pressure growing behind his eyes. The tears, which had been slowing, built again, suddenly, and everything was just too much.

Oh. He dimly realized again. I did this.

And Odysseus…

…Odysseus broke.

Odysseus broke, tears falling like a waterfall. He choked on a sob, shaking violently, as his knees wobbled and knocked together. Eurylochus’s voice, angry and harsh, snapped back into focus, and Odysseus keened weakly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, falling to his knees as he swallowed back another sob. “I’m sorry-“

Desperately, shaking all the while, Odysseus clutched at his friend’s chiton, head pressed to Eurylochus’s knee. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

Eurylochus’s angry rant trailed off into shocked silence as Odysseus tripped over his words. Apology after apology spilled from his lips as he sat shaking on the wooden deck of the ship, legs collapsed awkwardly beneath him. He didn’t dare look up as silence crashed against the ship like Polyphemus’s club crashing against men and stone, just kept choking out desperate apologies into the empty, oppressive air.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sobbed, like a mantra. “I’m sorry,”

The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity; a terrifying, heart-stopping eternity.

He couldn’t do this.

Odysseus- he couldn’t. He’d tried, fuck he’d tried. Tried to carry every burden he could, tried to protect his people, and look where they were now.

It was all a mess, a fucking disaster.

And- and Polites was gone, now, really truly gone, never-coming-back gone.

Dead.

And Eurylochus would be too- not dead, not if Odysseus had any say in it, but gone, leaving.

Leaving him, because Eurylochus would do what was best for the crew.

Odysseus was just dead weight.

The leg he leaned against, clutched in desperation, was pulled back, and Odysseus let it go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, trying and failing to blink away his tears as his hands dropped down to dig his nails into his own knees instead. Something thudded against the ground ahead of him, but all Odysseus could think was ‘this is it’.

This is it, this is where his friend, his last surviving best friend, his brother, even, left him.

And by the gods if he didn’t deserve it.

“‘msorry,” his words slurred together. “‘msrry’msorry,”

He deserved this, for hurting his friend and daring to proclaim otherwise. Why should Eurylochus stick around? Odysseus wasn’t worth the work. He hunched in on himself some more.

“‘msorry,” he might have begged. Please don’t go. You have every right to, but please, please. Don’t leave me. “‘msrrymsrrymsor-“

Odysseus coughed.

Oh, that was odd.

He couldn’t breathe, for a moment there, air knocked from his lungs as his chest collided with something warm and solid. Something strong tugged his forwards, pulled him tight against it.

Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Odysseus suddenly found his head tucked into the crook of Eurylochus’s neck as he shook. He tried to choke out another apology, but Eurylochus held him too tightly to properly speak the words.

Oh.

Oh.

Odysseus shook some more, hands slowly worming their way from his knees to clutch this time at the front of his friend’s chiton.

Eurylochus was hugging him.

Eurylochus. was hugging him.

Odysseus sobbed again.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to force out again, but Eurylochus just pulled him impossibly closer.

“It’s okay,” his friend whispered, voice hoarse. “It’s going to be okay.”

mans is a bit harsh on himself :,)

He doesn’t q u i t e get the point, but he’s getting there-

Anyways so flower au; asty lives and also @hahahaghosty and I are soft for lil ajax :P

I know I always say this, but they were a huge inspiration for this (bc they fuel me w like 75% of my writing ideas lmao-), so thank you a whole lot!! wouldn’t be possible without ya :) they're really fucking awesome, go check out their stuff!! do it- Do It Now-

anyways that all from me for now, thanks for reading :P

(me: check out the tags for some context :) also me: throws way to much shit in them-

just. just read the beginning and end and itll all make sense if u wanna)

[mildmayfoxe]

do you guys think i should make a faire (etsy for wholesale)……. wholesaling was on my goal list for the year but in a “email local businesses” way not a “put my stuff on a marketplace” way, especially since faire takes a 15% commission & has other fees…. i don’t have the kind of inventory to list a ton of stuff on there but i could start with a few things and see how it goes…. i can stop doing it if i decide it’s not worth it… it would be easier than sending a lot of emails or making a wholesale packet….

[goldensunset]

now that my sisters are hooked on playstation gaming bc they got to try it for a bit i’m like guuuuys if we all pool our money we could invest in a ps5 together… (they want to play the fanciest most realistic games from this decade and i want to play a clunky series that’s older than me)

[serabellyms]

I’ll never understand how reading a person’s rules when you follow them is so hard. Legit never. Like, do people not read someone’s rules BEFORE following them???

I can’t wrap my head around it. A person’s rules determine whether I follow them or not. It gives me a sense of them & how they’re going to engage with people and whether we’ll either click or they’re possibly just going to be a toxic influence on my dash 🤷🏼‍♀️

[cream-and-tea]

[ID in alt text]

continuing a tradition of drawing these two for halloween! they get to be all dressed up bc i couldn’t this year <3

[rollercoasterwords]

hihi i was wondering what you’re studying in grad school? i’m debating going LOL

i’m currently in a master’s program 4 a gender studies degree! my experience has been. pretty good so far but if ur located in the u.s. my honest advice is don’t go 2 grad school unless u can get it fully funded…or unless ur rich enough 2 just eat the cost of paying 4 a program in which case u can probably do whatever u want lol

[babyfairy]

weekend is here. time for 24/7 intense panic-inducing intrusive thoughts