#cryinginblaseball

[polkadotpatterson]

:eyeemoji:

for you, a little bit of Dot and Jaylen in the Core :)

“Gotta admit, it is kind of refreshing, though,” Jaylen says after a moment. “To join a team where not even one person wants to punch me.”

“They barely know you. Give it time.”

She laughs, short and sharp, caught by surprise. “Oh, don't tell me you started to get a sense of humour while I wasn't looking.”

[thiaquiche]

@cryinginblaseball my bad, I forgot lol apparently the “sketches” were actually sketch, singular, but here it is, Spears Nolan!

[glassgob]

raffle prizes/gifts from the past week!!

jasper coven for @cryinginblaseball remy for @almyranpine teo for @xylographica and jack for @parenthesisgrey

[Image ID: Collection of small digital drawings. The first image is of Jasper Coven, a catboy magic apprentice with tussled hair and scruffy face. He is casting a fire spell from a book. The second image is of Remy, a teen with short, white hair and light purple eyes. He is wearing a sweatshirt and jeans and is taking a photo with a Polaroid camera. The third image is two headshots of Teo and Jack. Teo is a green dragon with shaved mane, curved horns, and equus-like face. He is smiling while sticking his tongue out. Jack is a black-and-white lop wolpertinger. He has gold, pupil-less eyes and sharp teeth. His mouth is wide open in a malicious smile. End ID.]

[elifinchsart]

30 minute sketch commission of Jasper Coven for @cryinginblaseball!

[shardssystem]

I'm interested in Caidi (me interested in an Ooze person, can you imagine?). They have limited polymorphism, what does that mean exactly? How well can they interact with the non-ooze folk? What do they want in [waves hands] all of this?

Caidi has the ability to transform into basically anything, but they will always look like ooze, be the same colour, and be only vaguely defined. Something like this. They also can’t become anything larger than an average person, due to the laws of matter. For example, they could become an intensely dense mouse, or a person-sized elephant. The sole exception to these rules, is when they assume their “disguise” form: a copy of Kolya as he would’ve been at 16 without transitioning.

They also have telepathy, though their language is formal and stilted, having only really learned from reading. With their mental projection ability, they can allow people to see an illusory space and change it as they want. Think of like the Holodeck, for example, but if you could also change yourself.

Their desires are fairly simple: to experience more of the world (and since being made aware of it, the Multiverse), to enjoy life, and to protect Kolya where possible.

Thanks for the ask, @cryinginblaseball!

[lenasai]

saw @cryinginblaseball do this and invite anyone who wanted to do it to post one as well, so...here's the first line from the last ten* stories** i've published

*i've published less than ten stories, but a couple of them are a collection of short poems, so i'll just pick a few poems from that

**most of the stuff i've published is free verse poetry

okay here goes:

1. i once heard in a song / that blaseball was a game of inches / that the small details / make all the difference (lucky number 81 (what if), about just how easily ivy mason could have exploded if just one thing went differently for them)

2. "The Steaks won the Season 1 Season 1 Internet Series!" (don't forget them when they're gone, about barry burkhard, flattery mckinley, and ivy all witnessing the events of gamma 1 and gamma 2 and having Thoughts about them)

3. the first time i took the plate, i was given a knife / and told only that i was to use it ("on knives and how to use them" from snippets from the immaterial plane, about the s15d37 garages vs. lovers game where max tagged nan and both of them almost exploded)

4. do the salmon know / where they are going / as they swim upstream ("salmon" from snippets from the immaterial plane, about the past and having regrets)

5. hello / how else to start / when the world is falling apart ("save situation" from snippets from the immaterial plane, about parker macmillan iiiii's season 24 earlsiesta speech)

6. why do you still idol me? / i have nothing left to give you ("credit to the team" from blasetober 2021, about paula turnip being doomed to be vaulted)

7. sun .1 did nothing wrong / it was just a little guy! / it was small enough to keep my hands warm / and pinch between my fingers ("sun .1 (was just a little guy)" from blasetober 2021, a silly little poem about my favorite tiny sun)

8. there is a person who has my name / or at least / that's what this book says ("the impostor" from blasetober 2021, about parker finding out about the original parker macmillan)

9. i watched them take you / from the selfish safety of my own home / it should have been me ("the replacement" from blasetober 2021, about jaylen hotdogfingers watching her alternate get taken by the vault legends)

10. it was all a setup. (that which you cannot kill, in which max and ivy basically give the coin a "we are going to beat you to death" speech)

while i'm at it, here's a bonus - the first line of something i'm just about done with: You don't know how long you've been here, wherever here is. (the merry exit (un?)memorial dimension traveling club, about merry exit after the events of gamma 1)

okay thoughts time: overall, i like an opening line that really gets into things right away. sometimes it's a feed event, sometimes it's just a snappy line that sets the mood. for poetry, i like to use the first stanza to set the main idea of the whole poem. they're short poems, so i want to set the idea early! (for those curious, the longest short poems i've written are both approximately 350 words.)

also, i pretty much never use third person for poetry lmao - with very few exceptions, it's either from the perspective of the character or in second person

uhhh yeah it's kind of obvious who i like to write about more lol, my brain worms are pretty apparent. literally everything i have published has at least one of the wyatts mason in there somewhere (until i finish this merry exit fic) - other characters that feature heavily in my short poetry include parker macmillan (both the original and the commissioner), chorby soul (and their replicas), jaylen hotdogfingers, and mike townsend

i'm bad at tagging people, if you wanna do this as well feel free to

[tchotchkeshelves]

Alright everyone, you may remember the blaseball survey I ran a few weeks ago, and although I am much later than originally intended, I come bearing results! 

(taglist for the folks who asked under the cut)

@miketownsends @fourteenthidol @jhonii @buttsmcnutts @blooddrains @esiako @numbersninja @necromancer-mango @jona3d  @inalienable-wright @babblingborker @919 @torpidgilliver @archivistim @summmoner-starlight @patron-saints @skelebells @rosalindursula @ferretro @demimonde-semigoddess @clemkesh @alangdorf @solphy @divinacommedia @insufferableoracle @phillypies @cryinginblaseball @birdlord5000 @kubfoo @zigzagg @0-0w0 @ohmyghostness @discocatapocalypse @rogueumpire

(if you’re reading this I hope you have a nice night/morning/day/evening/ <3)

[polkadotpatterson]

Noted Dot Liker Cynda Cyndakip! I bring you 🌸for the summertime writer thing!

oh hey that's me!

🌸 wip you've been working on the longest

hmmmmmm well for actual posted fics I haven't finished yet it's squiddish (I swear I will some day!) for unposted unfinished fics that I still want to finish eventually it's probably the one with Dot and Jaylen in the Core. For unposted fics I'm actually actively working on, it's Star-crossed! you know, the one about [SPOILER] :)

[theunsubtleknife]

@cryinginblaseball

Thinking about when I decoded Parkers firewalk by hand on paper before it was unredacted

[polkadotpatterson]

Hand holding, 14 and/or 42, they're kind of the same. Also, Eugenia and Greer?

finally getting around to the asks from this prompt list! have some early s3 Eugenia still working on being a person, especially the Making Friends aspect of being a person :)

14 + 42: grabbing hand to show them something + dragging the other with them, holding their hand

There’s something oozing under the door of the storage closet.

Half-eaten blaseball in hand, Greer watches it seep closer, wondering if she should move all the other blaseballs out of oozing range or if the gunk might add some flavour. Before she can decide, it gathers itself up and forms into something vaguely person-shaped, looking at Greer with an unmistakable smile.

“Eugenia,” Greer says flatly. “What the hell.”

“Greer Lott!” Eugenia gurgles, undeterred by this greeting. “Found you!”

“Yeah, what's your point? You playing hide-and-seek or something? Because I'm not. I'm just sitting here in this closet minding my own business.” Greer points the half-eaten blaseball at her threateningly. “You’d better not be planning on ratting me out for eating the blaseballs. There's like a million in here, and nobody’s using them for anything. Can't let them go to waste.”

Eugenia shakes her head emphatically, which makes her entire body jiggle. “Won't tell.”

“What do you want, then?”

She wiggles with excitement, reaching out two armlike appendages. One shoves the door open, and the other wraps itself around Greer’s hand, shifting into something almost handlike itself. It's sticky and squishy and strangely warm, and Greer's first instinct is to pull away, but Eugenia pulls first.

“Come,” she says, tugging on Greer’s hand, leading her out into the rest of the Gleek. 

Greer stumbles through the soggy halls; Eugenia moves surprisingly fast for an amalgamation of garbage. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not joining your stupid nightmare arts and crafts club for babies!”

Eugenia shakes her head again, the jiggles traveling all the way down her arm and making Greer’s hand tingle. “Just showing you.”

“Showing me what?” Greer shoves the last of the blaseball in her mouth and chews it impatiently.

“This!” Eugenia gestures to the open door of the art room with a flourish.

It looks the same as always. Scattered art supplies on the tables, drawings tacked up on the walls. Greer belatedly realizes Eugenia has a few markers sticking out of her goop as she tugs Greer forward to a piece of paper that's been left on the table.

“For you,” she says proudly.

Greer squints at the drawing. It depicts two figures on a blaseball field, standing next to each other on what seems to be the pitcher’s mound, a pile of blaseballs beside them. One is a blob with a big smile, winding up to throw a pitch. The other is a taller stick figure with an unusually sharp toothy grin and a half-eaten blaseball in their hand.

She recognizes this scene. She’d started giving Eugenia pitching lessons, annoyed at how Hobbs kept bragging that he’d taught the garbage how to bat. Any loser can wave a stick around, but throwing the ball to the losers in the right way takes skill, and anyway, Eugenia had seemed more than happy to learn. She'd accidentally absorbed a few blaseballs before she got the hang of throwing them, but hey, those things are tasty, Greer can't blame her.

“Thank you for teaching me,” Eugenia enunciates slowly and carefully. “I drew it!’

“It's. Uh. It looks good. Nice job on the teeth. Thanks.” Greer is starting to feel weird, all soft and goopy inside, like Eugenia’s sludge that's still wrapped around her hand. Maybe she ate too many blaseballs?

Eugenia somehow manages to beam brighter than the smile she gave herself in the picture. “You're welcome!” Greer tries to put it back down, but Eugenia shakes her head, dislodging one of the markers. “Keep it! It's yours.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

She shrugs, finally ungooping herself from Greer's hand. “Look at it.”

Looking at it makes her feel things she's not used to, so Greer rolls it up and sticks it in her pocket, then swipes the marker off the floor and bites it in half, soaking in the juice. Mmmm, red. The best flavour.

“Wait a minute,” Greer says suspiciously just before Eugenia can turn to go. “Why’d you have to drag me all the way here? You could’ve just brought me the picture. It's like you wanted to hold hands with me or something.”

Eugenia blinks at her, but Greer knows all kinds of plots and schemes lurk beneath that innocent front. “Friends!”

“Friends?” Greer snorts. “We're not friends. I don't have those.” 

Infuriatingly, Eugenia just smiles and oozes away rather than argue about it. Greer mutters a stream of curses under her breath and gnaws away at the marker as she pulls the drawing out again. She tries to ignore the goopy feeling in her chest, tries to pretend it doesn't feel nice.  Friends, with Eugenia? Ridiculous.

[polkadotpatterson]

For the favorite fics, I would say one BUT SOMEONE HASN'T POSTED THEIR SUPER SECRET GRAND SIESTA FIC YET **CYNDA**. But there's scene in it that knocked me out of my chair and I think about it all the time. You know which one.

Also, very biased, but Snowglobe

AND Alto Solo. Dot and Alto finding an understanding is so lovely.

thank you blestie <3 one day I will properly polish that fic and post it and then knock everyone else out of their chairs too

[shardssystem]

Doing the WIP thing that @cryinginblaseball, @polkadotpatterson, @luckyowl21, and other friends have done, and hoping this also kickstarts a couple of them. 😅

RULES: Reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

A lot of these are not final titles:

A Tale Of Two In The City

The End Of Things

Learning To Forgive

Countdown

Going The Distance

Into Dust

Perchance To Dream

The Spirit Of Man

Dearly Beloved

The Ties That Bind

Spoonful Of Sugar

Of Sand And Ruin

Deus Ex Arcanum

Silver Tongues

The Coming Storm

Heart Of Darkness

Dead Man's Hand

Within The System

The Long Walk

Something Borrowed

Lock Ourselves In

I honestly don't know if there are that many people on Tumblr (I think most of the blogs are sideblogs upon sideblogs for like 5 people having fun), so if you feel like doing this too, feel free!

[polkadotpatterson]

I am always thinking about the things we take off for each other by bloodsweatspit, which imo is the quintessential Moist Talkers fic; it’s a collection of vignettes centered around various players and their connections with each other, and the entire thing is so incredibly poignant and full of love. All the other fics they’ve written are great as well, especially future artifacts, which is about Ziwa dealing with the consequences of necromancy and is the kind of fic that breaks your heart and then carefully starts to put it back together again.

I also can’t recommend mossy_kit’s Dot fics enough; if you’ve ever half-enjoyed any one little thing I’ve ever written about Dot, you’ll love their stuff. Read all of their (The Pitcher Must) Throw the Ball series, as well as all their short Dot scenes in folie à dix; they do such a perfect job portraying all the highs and lows of Dot’s life in a way that will make you feel many emotions. Check out their non-Dot fics as well, especially Silhouettes Inside a Dream, a very cool AU where the players all wake up with no memory of who they are, and have nothing to do but play blaseball.

And I also love everything that @cryinginblaseball writes, especially his latest, Hobbs Cain’s Wednesday Night Nightmare Club, where Hobbs does nice things for Richmond and Eugenia and yet still refuses to admit he’s nice! Also Greer Elsewhere, where Greer has to confront her fears (and also has some very excellent interactions with Dot)

okay actually while i’m still thinking about this. reblog this post and add a blaseball fic you love that deserves some attention.

[polkadotpatterson]

Hey! You should all come check out Moist Talk, a very cool Talkers podcast organized by KeCh! The first episode features me, @cryinginblaseball, @luckyowl21, and @shardssystem talking about the history of the team and I think it turned out really well!

[glassgob]

[Video ID: A silent video of a colorful, spinning wheel including the raffle entry names. It spins three times and throws confetti every time the wheel stops. End ID.]

congrats to the mini raffle winners @almyranpine @licomice and @cryinginblaseball !! dm me with what you’d like for me to draw and I’ll hopefully get back to you soon! and thank you so much for everyone joining lol this was funny and i super appreciate it

[polkadotpatterson]

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

I was tagged by @cryinginblaseball! guess this means I gotta include the couple of warrior cats fics I posted recently even though this is a blaseball blog. don’t judge me

reflections in the river: 

It doesn't take Thrushpelt long to figure it out. 

room to grow: 

Before there was Gloria Bentley, there was the garden, growing wild and tangled in a Miami backyard. 

let the light on through: 

There is a house by the sea, with wide windows and a warm fireplace and a porch overlooking the ocean and a yard big enough for an entire team's worth of dogs and people to run around in.

Namesake: 

The kits are perfect.

fragments from a new universe: 

You wake up in Seattle. This is the first thing that's wrong.

the long cat of the law: 

Law school turns out to require a bit more studying and caffeine than McBlase anticipated, but that doesn’t deter her.

the weight of the worlds: 

Clove Ji-eun had always found the Bubble to be a little confining, even long before she ever stepped out on the field herself.

commissioner vapor's pogtastic existential crisis: 

Anyone whose existence begins in a chaotic storm of flames and smoke and screaming tends to have a lot of questions.

DOT'S SHOES ARE STOLEN: 

CHAPTER 1: DOT CAN’T FIND THEIR SHOES

eloise butterworth breaks the world: 

It's nighttime, and Eloise Butterworth is playing.

Seems like most blaseball writers have been tagged by now, but if you haven’t then feel free to go ahead and say I’ve tagged you!