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chaosbound-official · 1 year

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Update

(Note: this is a long and kinda overshare-y post about getting demotivated. Tldr is I still love this project and am leaving the blog as is in case I want to return to it, but it may be another hiatus for the foreseeable future. Feel free to skim, but it's not under a readmore because it feels too important to hide any longer.)

I hate to say it, but I'm thinking about shelving the pollsim - and this blog project - possibly indefinitely. It's hard to say this, because I still adore Chaosbound with all my heart, and I wanted to see this blog through. We got so close to a few milestones I wanted to meet - like seeing the remainder of the cast, the reveal of a sister blog... I was hoping I could push through to those at least, have a chance to work with some of the cast I don't spend as much time with, help everyone get to see some of the plans I have in the works for the gang.

The problem here is, the operative word became "push" somewhere along the way.

I love Chaosbound. I still love its cast and the work I've put into it and the story I still want to tell. But after burning out in art college, art got harder for me to do. Chaosbound, and this blog specifically, became one of the few things I could put my all into - and if you take a skim through any character's tag, looking at the sprites I made, you can probably tell that.

But somewhere around the ghost event, I got really demoralized. The ghost event was an event meant to encourage a lot of interaction and engagement, something for blog followers to also try to puzzle out alongside the trolls. And maybe this is partially on me for how I presented things, I don't know.

But by this point almost all of my engagement, outside of likes and whatnot, was from the same few people - all of them my friends no less. People in the server I had for the blog at the time. And this is not meant to devalue their input in any way at all. I'm still very appreciative because without them, I probably would have abandoned the event altogether, and may have struggled to come back at all.

But I knew there were others following too. Others interacting, and at points earlier on I'd gotten some wonderful anon messages that I still have saved in my inbox.

But for whatever reason, everyone had gone silent. Watching quietly, waiting to see how things would play out. I was practically relying on prompting friends to send in responses just to move things along, and eventually was forced to give up and have the ghost reveal himself. I was like a puppeteer performing in the spotlight of an otherwise pitch black theater, wondering if I even had an audience to speak of.

I hated working through the ghost event. It was meant to be an exciting part I was building up to, from the start of the blog's inception I had the whole thing planned out. But between being burnt out irl and the passive reception I just. Didn't want anything more than to get it over with.

I went on hiatus. And Tumblr collectively got steadily worse about its responsiveness and support to artists.

When I came back, I thought I was ready. I'd missed Chaosbound and was picking up drawing again, incrementally. Pollsim was meant to be padding for my slow work process, so I could chip away at sprites and event art for my next big reveal. But of course, I signed up for too much. I got too ambitious with the idea, but then also found I was much shakier than I thought.

The votes to decide which troll we'd find were a good amount, though I highly suspect at least a few were just passerby who like to click buttons. But once we actually got things underway, Makkea's first choice poll saw a steep drop in participation. I felt the stress from the ghost event grip me once more. But, I reminded myself, things were just getting started. Maybe people who aren't interested in Makkea aren't voting, and will jump back in later. Maybe I'm not boosting the event enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But I also saw something else happen to me. Now I'm reluctant to pick up my tablet pen. And when I do, I'm always agitated. Angry. Asking myself why I'm even bothering, not just for this blog but at all. Each time I pick up my tablet, I'm suddenly reminded of all the times my art - and these blog events - flopped.

I never thought I'd become the type of artist who relied on the external validation online to do art. For a long time, I wasn't. But art college did something to my relationship with art, and I think creating an art project that intrinsically relied on that external validation was the final nail in the coffin.

I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to give up art, or to only associate it with stress and rejection and being ignored. And I don't want to associate that with my audience here, either. That's not fair to everyone who's been here, past and present.

A part of me still feels bad for even writing this. For even thinking of posting it, behind a cut or not. I've felt bad for as pushy as I've gotten, about how people need to engage here more often. But keeping this locked up I think only serves to keep the lid firmly on the boiling pot, and I'm tired of it all threatening to explode.

So in short, I'm sorry that this is how things ended up. To those who have been supporting me, quietly, loudly and all the ways inbetween, I'm sorry I couldn't find that as 'enough' - but your support does mean everything to me regardless, and remains why I am still open to the idea of coming back.

The fate of Chaosbound is up in the air. I was hoping the ask blogs I started would be a sort of warm-up to eventually publishing a fan webcomic - a low-pressure venue for character exploration and a way to garner a little audience interest so that, once the webcomic dropped, I knew someone outside my social circle somewhere would be there to see it off on its first day.

I still pick away at Chaosbound, and I still have some assets for the blog that are as yet unposted. A close friend and I have some ideas for pollsim to lead to a potential game, second of its kind for this story in fact. I'd still like to see its realization, and to get the fantroll's stories out into the world, someday. But I have other projects I've been picking at too, so I may just have to give up on regular progress here in exchange for energy to post anything at all.

So, I may randomly post pollsims. I may answer one-off asks I get in the inbox. I may go silent for a year or more inbetween posts. But for now, I really need my art to be for me, and that means I can't hold myself to any external expectations, perceived or otherwise.

If you read this, thank you for doing so. Thank you for your patience, and understanding, and support. Despite how ungrateful I sound, it really has meant the world to me. I look forward to seeing you all where I can, and I hope anything I do come back with does not disappoint.

Sincerely, Mod Caspian

#modtalk #long post

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samrosemodblog · 2 years

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How I discovered I was Bi-Gender

My name is Sam. These days I go by Sam Rose, and I was assigned Male at birth, and I felt like telling my story about how I discovered that I identify with both Male and Female simultaneously.

The first sign I ever felt about this was during my early childhood when people would try to use the name ‘Sam’ to insult me, saying things like “Your name is SAMANTHA, you’re a GIRL!”

And I always distinctly remember being confused by this, because, what was wrong with being a girl? I never said that back to them, but I certainly remember it never bothering me, so I never gave them a reaction out of that bad attempt at bullying.

Really the only time I got upset about the name ‘Samantha’ was when our next door neighbor named their baby girl that, and I was more upset that there were now ‘Two Sams’ and that was going to get confusing!

After that, the next sign was when I felt like changing my username on a Forum I used to post to. I no longer remember what my old name was, but I had recently finished playing Parasite Eve 1, and had liked it so much I wanted to change my name to ‘Mitochondria Eve’.

Someone on the forum commented that ‘Eve’ was typically a girls name, and that they hadn’t expected it from me. I hadn’t realized that at the time as it was just supposed to be a cool name, but I stuck with it for as long as I was on that forum because I just liked the name.

The next sign was in Middle School, where I had a Red Jacket as a comfort item for how anti-social I was. I randomly came up with the idea that ‘How’ I wore the jacket would determine my ‘Personality’, and that I would be ‘different people’ if I wore it a certain way.

And to make it more interesting and spicy, I figured the ‘nicer’ personality would be a girl, and that felt normal to me. I even reflected this in my online persona at the time, where I was using a recolored Zero sprite from Megaman Zero, and made this ‘alternate personality’ of mine a slightly modified Amy sprite from Sonic Advanced.

This confused a lot of people online at the time, and I played it up mostly for laughs cause it got fun reactions from people trying to guess if I was girl or a guy. It may have been playful trolling, but playing with my gender had been fun even back then.

I have a hard time remembering what exactly had led to this, but at some point during High School I had decided that my ‘Soul’ was female. I played around a bunch with the idea that if I turned into a Ghost, it would be a girl floating around haunting people. But even back then, I also ‘Liked’ being a guy. So a common thing I would tell people is:

“On the inside, I’m a girl, who is a lesbian, and likes being in a boy’s body because it makes it easier to flirt with girls.”

Some people understood, others were just absolutely baffled.

I thought it was hilarious to see people’s reactions to it back then, and that explanation wasn’t terribly far off from where I eventually ended up, just worded badly!

After High School, I eventually started focusing more on my art as I realized that was the path I wanted to pursue. And one of the things I did was finally ‘Draw’ what I looked like on the inside. I had at this point been saying my Soul was a girl for years, and I finally drew what she looked like.

And so, here is my first ever picture of myself as a girl.

She didn’t look anything like the way I draw myself as a guy, and so I felt like she deserved a name of her own to complete her. So I named her “Rose”.

I did not realize at the time that this would confuse many people for years and years that I had a ‘Female Gender’ side of me because she was so different and barely used by me.

And so this was the limbo I found myself in for several years, a “Boy” with a “Female Soul” who was okay with being both. And it wasn’t until my all time favorite Webcomic, El Goonish Shive, introduced me to the concept of ‘Gender Fluid’ in this update, that I started to realize that maybe there was “More to what I am than I thought”

And so I used the term ‘Gender fluid’, because that’s the only term I knew for Male/Female flip-flopping, but I never felt like it completely represented me. Mostly because every other ‘Gender Fluid’ person I saw talked about having ‘Male Days’ and ‘Female Days’ and wanting to be one or the other on different days.

But I never felt that way. I just constantly felt like I was both at all times. This is why my username had become ‘Sam Rose’.

Sam was my Male half, and always presenting because I am a Male by body and voice.

Rose was my Female half, barely seen but always there.

At no point would you be wrong to call me ‘He’ or ‘She’, and if you had a preference I didn’t care. As long as you didn’t try to erase half of me in favor of the other, I never had any issues with anyone sticking to one or the other for me. Including my name. I go by Sam as much as I do Rose.

And it wasn’t until three years ago that I met someone who was deciding to go from ‘Bigender’ to ‘Gender Fluid’ because it fit them better, that I was blindsided by the fact that there WAS another choice!

At first I was hesitant to make the change to Bigender, but the more I sat and thought about it, the more I realized that it fit me.

And so, what started off as a simple feeling of “Its cool to be a girl” eventually became “I’d like to be a girl, and I’d like to be a boy, I’d like to be both!”

The signs had basically always been there, but it wasn’t until I was almost 30 that I finally fully understood who I am. And I’ve never been more comfortable and happy with my identity as I am now.

#My Story #Sam Ramblings #Bigender #Pride Month

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feeling-grubby · 1 year

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Designing Horns

I absolutely love designing characters. I am not a big person of drawing backgrounds and illustrations. I mainly do art so I can show people my character designs because I feel if I were to describe them it will never truly match the image in my head. When it comes to designing trolls, I really like the limited color pallet and trying to make something unique with those limited colors. But by far I my favorite part about designing trolls is the horns. Like when I started to revamp my ocs that is the first thing I did. I sat down and designed their horns first based predetermined things like their sign, themes, animals associated with them, and etc. I really want to show off the horns I made a while back even if it just wips because I just love the ideas and yes, I will go into detail about them.

They are color coded to their sign btw and if go look back on some of the trolls I already introduced you will see that colors go back to normal troll horn colors in the completed designs. It just so people know which character the horns belong to.

This is Rakker Dolika's horns. For his horns I took the bottom part on the left side of the sign and rotated it to be up wards. I thought the design was cute and realized a few hours to days later it looked like snail eyes. He is the least flushed out of my characters, so his horns are subject to change. Rakker's sign I am not sure where it comes from, but it apparently means laughter. Rakker's design is going to be one of the ventriloquist dummies used for comedy skits, so I thought it worked. Like he is a Juggalo so his makeup will reflect that concept.

These are Hollie Mathis horns. The horns are based around the plus sign on top of the m. I took the shape and spilt it basically. Hollie's sign is the alchemy symbol for alum which is a chemical compound to hydrate things. which makes sense seeing how thirsty some of my friends are over her. her design is hot I have been told. Anyways the word itself means bitter salt, I think that kind of fits Hollie personality as she is often pessimistic and can come across as bitter. Alum is also apparently used in a method to ward off evil and negative energy. Which I like to think I incorporated that aspect in the fact of how she is protecting sinner from being killed and hurt.

Sinner Sumter's Horns everybody. For his horns I took the top part of his sign and spilt it. His sign is the alchemy symbol for fixation. fixation in alchemy terms according to Wikipedia states that "fixation is a process by which a previously volatile substance is "transformed" into a form that is not affected by fire. It separates the substance or object and puts it back in the same or different shape at a subatomic level" I really didn't choose the symbol for its meaning or possible symbolism it more so looked like a plausible teal blood sign. but if I was to make an association between the character and his sign it would most likely relate to how he views the 'justice system' due to seeing what exactly justice looks like on Alternia. He is unaffected by people's emotions and situation when people come to him to represent their case due to seeing the ins and outs of Alternia's legal system. Which has also just made him apathic to people in general.

Angora's horns aren't design off his horns like the others are. Angoras is yet another alchemy symbol, but this one mean purification. it also looks a lot like an olive blood symbol. Another thing that also is seen as purifying things is fire. So that fit very well with my little pyromaniac. so, his horns are curved and flat on top that he then decorates with olive-colored candles that he lights on fire. The melting wax I figured would fit the porcelain boll jointed look I was going to give him, as to somewhat match Rakker in a way.

Tikvah my bee gal. For horn design I wanted to not only incorporate her sign but also bee. So, a took the little curvy bits that divided the two hearts and curved it around her head to the front to looked like the molars needs have. And then I took the heart shape and made them to look like antennas. Her sign is the alchemy symbol for hour. An hourglass is usually representing balance and I think that fits with her needing to find balance or her needing to find someone to help balance herself out. She is always putting her work and dreams first before her own mental health and needs. So, I think it fits her pretty well. She also really needs to find time for herself and needs to start making time for people who will help her grow into a better person.

Finally, Maebel Morrii. Maebel sign is one of the symbols used for arsenic when it comes to alchemy. Her horns are the little cross at the bottom of the symbol that I took and rotated it to be upwards. This resulted in cross that I think can resemble tomb stones and references her doom aspect really well. Mabel is a prince of doom, so she often acts like a life player. She uses her ghost powers to talk to the dead and them pass on into the afterlife instead of hanging out on the mortal plane. She uses the knowledge of possibly thousands of lifetimes from helping deceased trolls to guide the living. However, that's not the only way death and doom is weaved into her character. Arsenic is an insecticide and weed killer, something uses to get rid of pest that are harmful to other life forms or possibly just annoyance to people because they are deemed an eyesore. This can correlate with her lusus that needs to devour other trolls and lusi to stay alive. Often killing much of the lower class and bringing to death and doom to caste that high bloods would deem as vermin. So, in the end her sign really fits into all the ideas I had for her character. this is probably such a boring post about going into such small details about my trolls, but I love explaining such little details I have for my characters. I can probably go in-depth with all the concepts for the troll designs I have drawn so far. I also have a few variants horn designs I ended up scrapping before settling on these.

I don't expect anyone to really read this. I just wanted to ramble about this really badly.

#homestuck #hiveswap #fan troll community #I ramble so much #ooc #Traice talks

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hahafunyfungusman · 2 years

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i was finally able to finish drawing the characters for my obey me monster prom au thank goodness

okok so

lucifer - vampire. he’s the biggest nerd (in the actual useful knowledge way) in school and i want to shove him in a locker but yk. he’s incredibly smart and talented, and he even built satan (more on that later). He often has to get his classmates into shape, and is seen as the proper one. Usually found in the library or classroom.

mammon - demon (ik im so creative). in contrast to lucifer, he doesn’t score very high on homework or tests. He’s much more interested in the prom part, and spends most of his time trying to impress you (the main character). he gets most of the lectures from lucifer. Usually found outside or in the library.

Levi - fish thing idk. biggest nerd (in the levi way) in school i also want to shove him in a locker but um um he often skips class because of the anxiety that comes with going. he rants a lot and his fin-ear things flare up whenever he gets excited. often sits on his own at lunch with headphones on, but is sometimes accompanied by mammon. Usually found in the bathroom or class.

Satan - robot. He was built by Lucifer for either a school project or for fun i haven’t decided yet. but um he’s constantly afraid that he’s not his own ‘person’ and is instead just seen as an extension of lucifer. He wasn’t built with a mouth and uses sign language to communicate. because of his lack of a mouth, he feels the need to use a face mask to cover that up. Usually found in the Auditorium or classroom.

Asmo - ghost. k so i know he died by his throat being slit but i’m not sure yet if he did it or if someone else did. like mammon, he cares little about studies. His grades aren’t great, but he’s still technically passing, so lucifer’s lectures aren’t given to him as often as they are mammon. he’s a big part person and uses parties to get closer to you. Usually found outdoors and in the Auditorium.

Beel - werewolf. He’s often hanging out with belphie in the gymnasium. He likes sports and is a big softie i swear i’m not just copying scott from monster prom i swear but ummm um yeah. Usually found in the gym and outdoors.

Belphie - honestly not sure yet i’ve been thinking troll/orc but also considering zombie so idk. he couldn’t care less about his classes and skips most of them, but he does very well on tests somehow. he only really sticks with beel in the gym to make him happy, but he himself isn’t happy about it at all. usually found in the gym or the bathroom.

#please please pleeease like this i spent so long on it #i’ve been obsessed w this au for so long now sighs #i love them all they’re the skrunklies <3 #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me levi #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #monster prom #obey me au #monster prom au #wow that was a lot of tags

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everythingfromdust · 1 year

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What Homestuck is About

I don’t remember writing this, I never finished writing this, and I just found it in my drafts. If you asked me today to come up with what homestuck is about I would not be able to go into this level of detail at all. here you go.

the post;

As told by someone who hasn’t read Homestuck.

Before I begin, lets go over my Homestuck experience. At some point in like 2010 probably people got obsessed with zodiac symbols for some reason, and also candy corn horns. I saw them around and they did not affect me in any way. A few years ago I was commissioned to draw Homestuck fanart, I was linked a video of nonsense about some dude who controlled planets with his veins maybe. This was for inspiration for the drawing. I drew fanart, they liked it. After that happened I found out that I had been drawing other Homestuck fanart by commission, about a green planet or something, this was a surprise to me. I found this strange, told my friend who liked Homestuck and he told me to read it. I read the first few pages and got bored, I am sorry to your fandom, it just wasn’t my thing. What was my thing, was reading random-ass theories about Homestuck and looking at fanart as it came on my dashboard.

Now, with that in mind, here is what Homestuck is about...

Homestuck is a webcomic about 4 teenagers, Dave, Rose, Karkat (Online handle?) and Egbert. Egbert and Rose are the same age, they are friends by convenience but don’t have a lot in common. Dave is Egbert’s cool older brother who is also an asshole sometimes but only to hide his fragile ego. Karkat is a loner type who is sarcastic. Rose has a crush on Karkat but they have never met in person. Rose is also very sarcastic, but hers is more mean spirited while Karkat is just defensive with a kind heart.

Karkat is way more into videogames than the rest of them, and ends up being the ‘leader’ of the group, ironically as most of her motivation is to be alone. However, Rose likes her, so she follows Karkat’s lead with regards to what games they play online, Egbert follows Rose because he doesn’t have other friends, Dave has to keep an eye on his little brother so follows them on their adventures reluctantly (but slowly learns to be part of the group). The first story arc establishes the characters and the world. The viewer interacts with these characters through the occasional videogame interface but mostly a webcomic format. The characters are very meta and self aware which is funny without getting into too much action before...

Suprise plot twist Karkat realizes they have been playing a game copy of their own lives within a webcomic/web-game thing. We find out later that she suspected this all along and only wanted to be alone because she thought everyone else was a simulation.

Almost immediately Dave thinks that this plot twist is stupid, and the meta commentary on Homestuck itself reaches new sarcastic heights. The fandom takes this idea and runs with it, causing many fans to insist that Homestuck sucks.

When they break into ‘reality’ Karkat is shocked to find that the other three have come as well. Thus begins her overarching subplot of learning to trust others and believing she can fall in love with Rose. Karkat and Rose question still if this reality is really the real one. Spoiler: It isn’t. While they try to discover the why and how of their situation Egbert is busy altering the code of the game to give himself insane powers and become ‘god tier.’ Dave is doing stuff to, but I think it’s mostly just fucking off and making jokes.

There are monsters called trolls with candy-corn-horns at some point, but I’m lead to believe that they aren’t actually a big part of the story even though they are widely loved by fans. They probably happen early on in the story which is why they are fairly iconic for the series. The trolls are sentient too, each represents a sign of the zodiac, and each main character has a troll that is ‘them’ in an alternate game reality. So there are 4 trolls that represent the main characters, and this is symbolic somehow especially when you think about the 8 trolls who have no ‘main character’ components.

Insane Clown Posse is involved somehow but I don’t understand if they are plot relevant or just a joke that the comic creator likes to fall back on.

So anyway, eventually all the characters go god tier, they have to figure out their own personal way to get there and I bet it is really plot heavy and long. They can control the base code of the game, and they all start fighting with one another.

The plot gets really huge in scope, as they find that their simulated reality

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screechthemighty · 1 year

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Okay, so, the plan for memories of mother is that I’ll be working on pre and post Kratos fics simultaneously so I can make progress in my outline while also getting to write the stuff I’m most impatient to write. So...here’s something I cooked up for Faye’s past history. This is also the fic I was writing with Hadestown as the background music, so brace yourselves, I guess. AO3 link will be in a reblog!

rose colored boy: part one

Everyone all right?

She’d asked the question so many times that it didn’t feel like three words anymore. It was one singular word with the same meaning: everyoneallright? Most were, thank their ancestors. Some in shock, some crying, some quiet with pained acceptance. But physical injuries were low, especially when you considered they’d survived a landslide. Not Aesir, for once, but a fight between two troll clans. Faye had known better than to try and break it up, especially when the nearby town was at risk. A few rocks had started flying already by the time she got there.

Faye tried not to focus on the damage, instead focusing on the fact that no one had died. They could rebuild. At least it wasn’t Thor.

How bad had things become that at least it wasn’t Thor was a legitimate upside?

“How are you?” she asked. A cluster of three giants huddled in the cave together. This trio was especially covered in sawdust and dirt. They must have barely avoided being hit. “Everyone all right?”

“Ah, Amund took a bit of a knock on the head,” said one of them. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were still distant, worried. “He’s talking, but it’s still blood.”

“Head wounds bleed a lot,” Faye said reassuringly. She turned her attention to Amund. He had dark eyes, which made seeing his pupils difficult in the low light. “Can we move him a little closer to the entrance? I just want to make sure he wasn’t hit too hard.”

Amund could walk. His eyes focused as they got closer to the light, moving at the same speed. All good signs. “Okay…” Faye helped him sit down again. “Here, let me take a look at that head wound-”

“You’re beautiful,” Amund breathed.

Faye froze.

This wasn’t the first time a man had told her that. Usually, though, it was a bit more calculated. The approach, the phrasing, all of it carefully constructed to get a positive reaction out of her. Amund, on the other hand, spoke as if Göndul of the Valkyries had landed right in front of him: earnest, even awed.

Which was ridiculous, because Faye was definitely covered in a thin layer of dirt herself and hadn’t tended to her hair in…damn. How long? Point being, she’d looked worse, but she’d also looked better. She glanced at the other giants with him. They looked just as baffled as she did, and a bit embarrassed for him. “...okay,” Faye said. “Yeah, let me look at that head wound.”

He did, at least, move his hand away. It was a good sized cut, but the bleeding had slowed, and it looked like someone had already cleaned it. “Has his speech been slurred?” Faye asked.

“I don’t think so? He…”

“I’m Amund,” the giant interrupted.

“She knows, Amund.”

“What’s your name?”

“Amund.”

“Speech definitely not slurred,” Faye said, trying not to get too flustered. He was still staring at her. “Do you feel nauseous? Like you’re going to throw up?”

“No, the cut just stings,” Amund said.

“Well, let someone know if you start feeling worse, all right? We don’t want you dying on us.” She smiled at him and his friends before awkwardly starting to move away.

“Wait!” Amund called after her. “Wait, I have to know your name!”

Amund’s friends shushed him. Faye felt her ears start to go red. How hard did he hit his head? she thought.

Hopefully not too hard. They really couldn’t afford to lose more giants.

It had taken some adjustment, but Faye was starting to like it in the Mountain.

She was surprised by how much of a cultural center it was. The mining was certainly a centerpiece, but there was a lot of art, too. Sculpture, painting, music. Faye found herself drawing a lot more whenever she had free time. It was a nice change of pace, drawing things that were unrelated to her dreams.

She was drawing that afternoon, carefully copying down the elaborate spirals and knots of a nearby carving. That kind of work had always been harder for her to pull off without a reference. If she could just get her mind to slow down enough and let her practice…

“Excuse me?”

Faye looked up, then did a double-take. She knew the man in front of her. She knew she knew him, but she couldn’t immediately remember how. “Can I help you?” Faye asked.

The man–brown skin, dark curly hair, dark eyes that felt the most familiar–stood a respectful distance away, carefully holding a tagelharpa. “We…met a few weeks ago, I don’t know if you remember. After the troll fight? I’m Amund.”

Oh! “Right, yeah, I remember,” Faye said. She felt her blush start to return. Damn, she’d picked a bad time to shade the sides of her head. It looked good, but now there was no hiding her embarrassment. “How’s, uh, how’s your head?”

“It’s fine. Don’t think it did any permanent damage.” Amund grinned sheepishly. “Actually, uhm, I wanted to apologize for how I acted. I was an idiot, I’m sure I made you uncomfortable…I’m really sorry.”

She hadn’t expected that. Honestly, she’d been bracing herself for more flirting. “Well…you did hit your head pretty hard, so I think I can forgive you,” Faye said. “I mean it, don’t worry about it.”

Amund nodded; she thought she could still see some lingering embarrassment in his eyes. “And thank you for what you for us,” he added. “It meant a lot.”

That definitely wasn’t helping her blush. Faye still wasn’t sure how to respond to thanks. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be thanked. She was just doing what anyone ought to: protecting her people. “You’re welcome,” she ended up saying, because that was what you were supposed to say when you were thanked. “It’s why I’m here.”

Amund nodded again. She saw his eyes flicker to her journal, a spark of interest lighting up at the image there. He smothered it just as quickly. “Well, I won’t keep you. Good luck with all the…trolls, and such.” Amund tried to wave, nearly dropped his instrument, and cursed quietly to himself as he retreated.

Faye bit back a laugh–not a mocking one, but a sympathetic one. She’d made more than her fair share of uncomfortable exits before. “Be safe!” she called after him.

Amund glanced over his shoulder to give her one last smile.

It had been a little awkward, certainly, but Faye found herself grateful for the exchange. She hadn’t had the chance to check on the people from that town, though she knew most had ended up in the Mountain. If Amund was well, there was a good chance the others were as well.

She’d take all the good news she could get.

#god of war #god of war faye #laufey the just #fic: rose colored boy

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sunnetrolls · 2 years

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1, 2, 6, 8, 12, and 22!

im doing urs first. just for fun

my god holy moly this got so long readmore time

1. Show your most recent wip

pspspspps [waves the prospect of ship art in front of you] if you do artfight i'll draw concordia ex machina next

2. 5 favourites of your own work?

FIVE? i don't draw that much!!! hold on i'll go browse

In no particular order! Veylin's bust painting is my fav ive done of any of those, i'm still rlly proud of nohope and planhz's sprites, i reaaaaaally love how i did the color and overlays on that abby headshot, and the dogy is an artfight attack from last year that is everything i love about my older lineless art style!!!

6. Which artists inspire you right now?

Alright buckle up folks this is a longer one

So I'm gonna answer this in two parts basically. The first part is artists that inspired me to start drawing what I like, especially fantrolls-- so a lot of my friends really!! Wanting to be in this community is what made me start actually doing art as something I was passionate about!!!!! The second part is actually twitter artists that inspired me to actually renovate my art style, try new things, and actually grow as an artist in ways that I really just never did here before.

I know I'm gonna forget a lot of people but the ones that come to mind right away for people who had an Impact on me back in the day are !!U!! gabriel 8bit-mau5, newt indig0trolls, my friend max who's no longer in the community, my friend lumiet who doesn't even do fantrolls but is really cool, and god a lot of old blogs whos muns are just gone now..................... wistful sigh :(

BUUUUUT as for artists who made me want to actually grow again in my. Wait hold on

[sets out a sign that says CRINGE WARNING -- I LIKED DSMP IN LATE 2020-EARLY TO MID 2021]

Okay now that that's out of the way! Some of the artists who made me actually want to learn and change and GROW again are giraffeleggos, mielzy_png, and WolfyTheWitch on twt :3 Mielzy especially is an art streamer who has a huge focus on being introspective and taking criticism and wanting to grow and always be improving in a direction they want. Hella cool to see someone be like, never satisfied in a "i love art and drawing so i want to grow and do it as well as i can as a respect for the craft" type of way. I don't think any of these guys except for Wolfy are actually into dsmp anymore but when I got into their content they were all dsmp fanartists so.

Okay this is really long actually so I'll quit there. Wait no actually here's a list of a handful of folks whose art inspires me to keep learning nowadays (also mostly all my friends)-- nero ramgodd, roe roetrolls, dami ask-the-troll-boys, greg lordtonic, and an extra special shoutout to chase sasster for making me want to write again. I just wanna do the cool art stuff like my really awesome friends so bad yall

8. What do you like most about your own work?

Hrmmmmmmmmmmm okay this one is tough bc both I wanna say "nothing bc I have a lot of strengths" and "nothing bc there's always room for me to grow and improve so even my best strengths aren't as good as they could and will eventually be"

But like. I really like how I paint actually

12. Show your favourite drawing from this year

FROM THIS YEAR.... ok let's comb thru my art tag

Oh wait easy simple. The whole fuckin aliquid ex nihilo comic. That took me so goddamn long but it was a labor of love and I desperately want to do more 1-page song comics like that but unfortunately they take me like 2 weeks if I do full lineart and that shit sucks

There are a lot of things I want to redo on it that are also things I redid in the process of making this comic but as is the nature of being so used to drawing sprites I forget how to draw people in actual poses and also interacting with things. I still think overall just because also of how funky I got with the coloring, framing, the fact that this is the first comic ive ever planned and fully completed ever, etc. that this one's my fav thing I've drawn in 2022 thus far

22. When is your prime time to work on your art?

Nighttime and also whenever I'm medicated LMAO I can NEVER focus on drawing if I'm off my meds idk how I did it before

#sunne speaks #this is so fucking loooooooooooong my bad

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rainbowsky · 2 years

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Can’t believe people were actually upset over those pics. I do wonder if it’s irrational jealousy and they pretended to be upset in yibos behalf

This is in reference to a previous post.

It can be incredibly confusing when someone first starts digging into the fandom. There's so much information and it's hard to evaluate it, and it's hard to tell who is well intentioned and who is ill intentioned. There's also all of the heteronormative skepticism that makes fans question the likelihood of two people like GG and DD actually being in a relationship.

People are looking for any sign whatsoever, however flimsy it might be, to discredit the idea that BJYXSZD. They want their world to make sense, and what makes the most sense to most people is the idea that a man will be in a relationship with a woman. That's just heteronormativity at work.

When a fan is being told that GG and DD might be in a real relationship, they are going to question whether that can be true. It's only natural. One of the most common and most typical ways that they will do that is through looking for signs that they might be with a woman.

That is the climate into which these Polaroids surfaced. It is the climate that they drift around in even now.

A typical fan seeing photographic evidence of GG kissing a woman - a photograph that looks candid and unplanned - is going to take that as proof that he's straight and in a straight relationship. Particularly when they are told so by antis and trolling solos.

TL;DR: I don't have any difficulty at all believing that people would misinterpret those pictures. It's not like there's some manual explaining to every new fan what's what. I've seen fans make that mistake many times, and I have also seen trolls and antis trying to sow discord in the fandom. I see it every single day.

There are many reasons why someone would draw the wrong conclusions when looking at a picture like that. Like I said, I have seen it come up repeatedly over the years, here and on other platforms.

I don't think it has anything to do with jealousy, either. I think it's heteronormativity more than anything.

If there's anything I find difficult to believe it's that it is really that difficult to believe. 😅

Edit: @fishwink made a good point in the notes, which is that the photos were meant to look like a picture of people in a relationship because that's what they were designed to be as props. So it's not surprising people might mistake them for real when leaked out of context.

#antis go home #really fake rumors #ask

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alleunwalk · 3 years

Text

tokyo revengers idol au hcs part 3 that no one asked for AGAIN here’s part 1 and part 2 to get a better understanding. this is what the members would be doing alongside their idol promotions+ what they would post on social media toman tbh these guys are all just so damn funny on their own that they would constantly be invited to comedy variety shows. maybe perhaps doing something similar to seventeen or wanna one where they even have their own variety show on youtube (ie. seventeen’s-going seventeen series or wanna one’s show on mnet) mikey-he would post basic food pics like of his parfaits or taiyaki but also it’s rare because he’d constantly forget his password. however on important days he’ll post long emotional and sentimental posts that hit you in your feels thanking his members and fans always. he also has a youtube channel posting random funny vlogs. draken- he has his own personal soundcloud to upload solo mixtapes/songs feat diff members. posts photos of his bikes and different tattoos he would be getting. responds with 1-2 words to fans during fansigns or ig comments but like mikey, once in a while, will also write heartfelt posts thanking everyone. baji- his ig feed is filled with animals + dance practice vids. also has his own soundcloud too. trolls his members by commenting on their stuff. “delete this u ugly mf no one wants to see this”. takemichi- very chatty, (sometimes too chatty where he’ll end up accidentally spoiling their next album info) and interactive on social media to his fans. tries his best to respond to most comments or ama ig stories questions. posts a lot of selfies and photos of his members. king of fan service. chifuyu- beautiful photos of the sky a lot on his ig (in canon he wanted to be a pilot :,) ) along with cute soft selfies. (which baji and kazutora troll and comment being like “damn....u ugly AF!” “lmao stop pretending to act cute u loser” kazutora- his ig is filled with pure chaos. just pics of him catching his members slipping (sleeping photos where they’re drooling or have their eyes slightly open or making ugly faces behind the scenes). also has photos of cursed memes and memes made by fans. he’s a literal enigma. mitsuya- very wholesome ig photos- lots of photos of his family, group photos, sometimes cool artsy edited selfies. occasional photoshoot photos. hakkai- ig is filled lots of #ootd photos and occasional photos from his modeling or acting gigs (he’s the visual, duh!) gets a lot of sponsorships from big brands. pah-chin: has a joint youtube channel with peyan. they do silly challenges but will sometimes post dance videos (feat. baji) since they’re the main/lead dancers. fans love him because of his “matter-of-fact” responses that are funny without even trying. (example- fan comment: omg i love u guys soooo much u guys are the best in the whole world!!!<333 toman OUTSOLD!. pah-chin: idk about best in the world but we’ll just take “the best in our neighborhood” for now i guess. thanks.”) peyan: joint youtube channel with pah-chin. at fan signs mikey has to warn him to chill out cuz peyan will accidentally yell and scare fans without meaning to, but he’s just really excited to meet his fans is all ^_^ angry: posts a lot of wholesome photos like mitsuya (selfies with smiley) and writes a lot of motivational sweet captions cheering fans up and reminding them to always be happy :,) smiley: joint youtube account with angry. smiley does a lot of prank videos and angrys just usually in the back like 🧍‍♂️... he also does tiktok- he would be doing all the dances, memes, and trends. inui: ok hear me out, i mentioned before inui has similar vibes as cha eunwoo so i’d figure his ig would give the same vibe as his (iykyk). since he’s the other visual he would be getting a TON of acting and modeling gigs. idk why but i feel like inui would be a great actor (his facial expressions during tenjiku arc, the range!). actor of the year. gets a lot of skincare commercial deals too.

black dragons shinichiro- photos of bikes, cars, and photos where hes pretending to do a cool pose but his members (+mikey) would troll and comment “LAME!!!!!” “why tf do u look like that?” “hey leader, it’s not too late to delete this now bestie :)” does fun ig lives. on variety shows as a joke his members tease him there as well. really great at fan-service and pulls the whole “pretend boyfriend” scenario with fans (the delusional fans are gonna act up if he keeps this up...). taiju- (if shinichiro did not exist in this au OR if you wanted both in the group) photos of him at the gym, photoshoot photos. inui- similar to if he was in toman, his ig would just be a lot of cool and cute photos of him from behind the scenes of dramas or photoshoots. a soft visual king. occasional selfies with koko and bike photos. kokonoi- has a personal youtube channel but he would be Drowning in sponsorship videos all from high-end designer brands. he’s just casually flexing that PPL in his vlogs. ig feed is a lot of #ootd photos or pics taken with inui. him and inui would be makeup brand ambassadors or faces of brands (ex: like jennie from blackpink represents chanel). in this case kokonoi would be the face of fendi (he wears fendi slides in the manga cover) and inui would be the face of jimmy choo (his heels in the manga cover looked like jimmy choo but i could be wrong.. but u know what i mean)

tenjiku izana- pretty leader has a very artsy ig feed. extremely photogenic like inui. has photoshoot photos and candid pose photos. acts in dramas time to time (gg second male lead syndrome). kakucho- posts gym or dance practice videos on his feed but he posts rarely because he’s just too busy or forgets he actually has an ig. loves commenting on takemichi’s posts “haha no wonder ur called baka-michi!” as a joke. kanji- posts gym photos but it’s rare because he always forgets his password. ran- the other visual. he would be modeling for high-fashion brands and go on runway shows. also definitely gives off actor vibes (he would be constantly casted in dark action movies hahaha). loves giving fan service. rindou- in contrast to his brother, rindou when it comes to fan service, he loves trolling fans. also he’s really good at drawing a line between fans (y’know, keeping the delusional ones in check...which means he ‘friend-zones’ them but it’s for their own good tbh idols need to remind people their boundaries). has a youtube channel where he just posts random dance practice vids and occasional vlogs. also comments under his brothers ig posts “you look stupid af in this wtf”. on variety shows people find their brotherly banter hilarious. mutou- posts gym photos, also really awkward selfies (he doesn’t know what his angle is lmao). another member who also reminds fans of their boundaries and keeps it real. (sanzu always likes his photos though and hypes him up in the comments). sanzu- shy baby. constantly following mutou around. posts a lot of cute selfies and random pics of shogi stuff (he tags mutou in it of course). during fan signing/autograph sessions they love putting cute headband props on him like this or this.

bonten because this group’s concept and aesthetic is mysterious, mature, artsy, gloomy, and dark they will take this concept to the grave. (minus a few exceptions) they are invited to variety/talk-shows but never make an appearance because they want to keep the air of mystery around them. (it’s a good marketing technique). mikey- does not have any social media. he does have a private account to lurk around but no one knows what it is. kokonoi- has a youtube channel but it’s locked and you have to pay to get into it. posts super short vlogs and teasers. thats it. (the ultimate scam! but their fans love them too much to notice). lots of sponsored #ootd posts on ig. kakucho- he would be modeling ONLY high fashion brands and high end editorial places. his instagram is just his exquisite and expensive modeling photos whether it be candid backstage photos from shows, candid runway walk pics/vids, pics of diff photoshoots you name it. doesn’t really comment much. ran- visual. similar to kakucho- modeling ONLY high fashion brands and editorial places. instagram is filled with modeling photos but also some artsy scenery pics he took. rindou- posts short artsy dancing clips (like modern dances in black&white filter) on ig. sanzu- since he’s the other visual, he also posts a lot of his modeling/acting photos on instagram. also pretty chatty (he’s the exception) on social media and loves teasing and trolling fans. posts with a lot of random cute emojis on everything. “just ate lunch and now im off to practice hehe 🍜🍇🤟💃🤠🧚‍♂️💞🦋” no one really knows why he uses random emojis but it’s just endearing lmao. kanji- no social media at all. akashi- manager....or if you made him the rapper in this au then he too would also not have any social media.

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clonehub · 3 years

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Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me (or point me towards someone who could, the onus doesn't have to be on you) about the racism problem on AO3? I've seen people mention it but I've never gotten a clear explanation-- is it a user problem, or something foundational? Sorry for the bother.

No problem!

The racism is definitely a user issue.

Lots of fandoms have massive racism issues often because the fans are Majority white. Like I think AO3's user base is about 80%+ white? People keep writing any range of racist fanfiction. Sidelining the only Black character in your fic is one thing, but then there's people who take it to extremes of writing outright antiBlack propaganda, fetishizing slavery/nonwhite races, etc. And then you get troll fics like the one I mentioned in that post. Fandoms are incredibly toxic, racist spaces and AO3 is no exception

But then the issue is also that there's no way to report a fic like that. Its blatantly racist. It's disgusting. I think they also only recently added a block button? So you for a while you couldn't block people who wrote stuff like that. I should know because when a bunch of reylos started writing porn in the comments of a fic I wrote where Kylo Ren dies I couldnt do a thing about it.

Either way, community moderation is hardly even a thing, and it's because so many (remember, mostly white) AO3 users are convinced that the second you can like. Flag a trollfic for advocating slavery or something all of the AO3 community they're supposedly besties with will pile onto their normie fics and get them taken down--which actually says a lot about how they view their own community lol. I also personally find it amazing that these mostly white AO3 users will fully believe that they're most likely going to the the victims of dogpiling hate and not the PoC in the fandom.

So they'd rather let racism proliferate in their spaces than even attempt to do anything about them--once again, because despite many of these (white) people's claims of fighting in the interests of racial minorities (I saw a post like that lol) many of these people draw the line at self moderation or any community moderation of any kind. I had someone on that Floyd post say that it was actually a good sign that nobody read the trollfic, as if that was the point of what I was making at all.

And let's not forget the age-old mantra of "don't like, don't read". People apply this to literally everything lol. It's an easy and dismissive way to shut down the complaints of people of color when we try to talk about racist fanfictions and we try to call out/educate the general fan space on how to avoid these things. Often AO3 authors abhor the idea of critiques of ANY kind (despite fics supposedly being an art form lol) so that's another way that fans of color are prevented from defending themselves in fandom spaces.

AO3 is incredibly toxic. I had to leave. There were too many white people in the star wars: the clone wars fandom writing fanfictions sexualizing and fetishizing being a slave. Too many slavery au fics about Finn from the sequel trilogy. Too many fics hypersexualizing every single female character, including the ones that were literally kids. Too many grown ass white people justifying all of this.

I've never heard of an ~archive~ that doesn't moderate their content at all in any way. I've never heard of a website that demands to be taken seriously while not even giving users the basic tools needed to protect themselves. Even the dark mode isn't/wasn't easy to get to lmao. AO3 is overrun with racists, just like any other white-dominated online space. Many of them will try to convince you that any action taken about racism has two key facts about it, a) that those of us who want people to stop being racist (their racist fics are an expression of that racism) are actually just pro-censorship, and b) that we're actually bringing up racism because we want to cover the fact that we're ~really~ mad about kinks and ships.

This is long lol. But tldr ao3 is a white-dominated incredibly racist and toxic space that doesn't give its users the basic tools needed to curate their own online experience. white ao3 users insist on an equally racist, reductive, and paternalistic argument against those of us saying racist fics (racism in general) has no right to exist in fandom spaces by accusing us of wanting wanton censorship, leaning all the way into the slippery slope fallacy, and insiting that they're actually doing it because they care about how modertion might affect PoC--and we're saying all this because of our sinister secret motive of kink hating/ship hating/anti beheavior. Remember that white women make up a majority of that website, and as people who experience exactly one axis of oppression, they realign every conversation to be about gender and sexuality.

Okay so the tldr got into some new stuff akjsdhlaksjdf but basically that's it! if it wasn't clear, I do not like that website lmao.

clowns on this post will get dragged i make no exceptions.

#ask #long post

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hivequest · 3 years

Text

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.

#homestuck #hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #mallek adalov #friendsim #homestuck imagines #hiveswap imagines #reader insert

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

It all kind of happens in slow motion.

One second, Emma hears the crack of the bat and the requisite roar of the crowd, and the next her eyes have widened to a size most scientists would likely advise against. Because, standing at home plate, that same home plate multiple baseball players are sprinting toward, is her kid. More or less waiting to be run over. That is, of course, until Killian Jones.

———

Word Count: 4.1K Rating: Flufffy fluff fluff of the fluffiest variety AN: Writing has been something of a legitimate challenge for me in the last few weeks, but earlier this week @ohmightydevviepuu sent a link to this tweet, tagged me, and said what I basically took as an unspoken prompt. Like, you’re going to send me video of a bat boy getting scooped up at home by a player in the middle of the game and then think I won’t write about it? Not possible. Even with the aforementioned writing challenges. Nothing stands a chance against my love of baseball. Here’s hoping the Yankees turn it around in the second half. Neither Aaron Judge or I deserve the season we’ve had so far.

———

Biologically speaking, Emma Swan is perfectly aware that the current positioning of her heart is more or less impossible.

Stuck somewhere between the back of her throat and the pit of her stomach, it makes her all too aware of the now-empty chasm in her chest, stretching out toward her arms and threatening the structural integrity of her lungs, neither of which appear all that intent on working properly. Oxygen is a luxury not currently afforded to her capillaries. Instead, nerves mix with anxiety and the telltale flush of adrenaline that probably also makes her look relatively crazy because her pupils are definitely dilated and she does not know nearly enough about science to be making any of these claims.

Whatever, really.

It feels like that ooze from that movie. FernGully, Emma thinks. With the fairies. She thinks they were fairies. She’s not entirely certain they were fairies.

And the ooze was definitely oil, obviously. There was a message involved in that movie. Not one that she appreciated when she was seven and Tim Curry’s animated-oil voice sort of freaked her out. But, like, she gets it now. The environment, and everything. With or without fairies. With Robin Williams, though.

She’s positive about that, at least.

Robin Williams was definitely in that movie.

Less positive about the ability of her heart to actually split itself in half, as it seems wont to do at the moment. So, as to make it easier when it inevitably soars out of her mouth and falls onto the scuffed-up clubhouse floor beneath her feet. Naturally, this will happen simultaneously. For maximum effect.

Much like the fireworks currently exploding over the left-field bleachers.

She’s not sure if fireworks do explode, actually. That seems dangerous. Likely to lead to injuries and sounds that don’t resemble the oohs and ahhs a ballpark generally inspires. Explode probably isn’t the right word. Maybe something more like…detonate.

No, that’s worse. Way worse. She’s got to learn more words. Find a thesaurus or a dictionary or—a fireworks expert would be ideal, honestly.

Someone who could give her a detailed description of the inner-workings of a Yankee Stadium pyrotechnics display on a Tuesday in July, enough words that Emma’s mind would still for a few moments, allowing her to catch her breath and reestablish a consistent heart rate, and both of those problems could also likely be solved by sitting down, but the chair to her left looks a little wobbly, and her legs appear to have minds of their own because science is rather quickly becoming a lie and—

“Is he alright?” She spins. Nearly falls over. Her knees are also awfully wobbly, that’s why.

Despite all of that, and the overall circumference of her pupils, the voice doesn’t retreat. Doesn’t even flinch. Shows absolutely no signs of imminent stumbling. And that’s probably because the voice is a man, one who is in possession of world-class instinctual reactions, and his hair is still damp from his post-game shower and it absolutely makes her something of an atrocious mother to acknowledge that last thing as quickly as she does.

His shirt sleeves are noticeably sticking to his biceps, so that helps too.

Opening her mouth, Emma is going to say words that are both vaguely intelligent and passably accurate, absolving this Major League Baseball player of any of the guilt he so obviously feels. Which is just patently stupid, really. None of this was his fault. None of it was anyone’s fault, really.

Except maybe the idiot who left his bat at that particular angle across home plate, but Emma’s an adrenaline expert these days and walk-offs are understandably exciting. First walk-offs more so.

She’s happy for Scarlet, really.

They won the game.

Everything is fine. Great, even. She nearly jumps twenty-six feet in the air at the next boom of fireworks.

The pinch between the Major League Baseball player’s eyebrows gets—

Pinchier.

The little roll of skin draws Emma’s attention, effectively robbing her of the ability to respond like an almost-sane person, but she’s also still trying to rationalize why she can remember the words to several FernGully songs while also being unable to recall what flavor PopTart she had for breakfast earlier this week and she figures watching her kid nearly get run over by professional athletes approximately forty-two minutes before gives her a fairly reasonable excuse.

For opening and closing her mouth no less than eight consecutive times.

Like a goddamn fish. There were no fish in FernGully. Least not so far as she remembers.

It’s entirely possible she squeaks on attempt number five.

The Major League Baseball player’s eyebrows do not move. It’s equal parts frustrating and incredible to behold.

“I should probably thank you, right?” Emma asks, not quite regretting the words immediately, but it’s awfully close. That gets her some movement. Of the eyebrow variety. One eyebrow, specifically. Arching up, it somehow still manages to pull her attention directly toward eyes that should be the star of their own marketing campaign. Not quite Yankee blue, but distractingly blue, and it takes everything in her not to huff as dramatically as she wants to. Once the athletic trainer is done with Henry, Emma is going to make him examine her lungs. Rationality rules the day.

Major League Baseball player shakes his head. It’s dumb to call him that. She knows his name. Knows at least some of his history. Is still staring obnoxiously at his freakishly attractive face.

Freakishly is kind of mean, too. As far as descriptions go.

“Unnecessary,” he says, an undercurrent of worry still clear in the letters. Ducking his head, he takes a cautious step forward, almost as if he’s wary of what Emma will do, and she supposes that’s fair. What with the impressive vertical she’s in possession of these days. “Anyone would do that.” “I’m not sure they could, actually.”

At some point in this otherwise shitty experience of a night, Emma is vaguely confident something will go the way she wants it to. Aside from winning. She’s glad they won. Seriously.

“No?” “No,” she echoes, and it’s not like she can feel him. A few feet of space separates them, so whatever heat appears to be wafting off the Major League Baseball player in front of her, with his damp hair, and stupid, stupid, stupid eyes is as impossible as any of the various impossibilities currently taking place within her person.

And yet.

He sticks his hand out.

It’s disarmingly earnest.

“Killian Jones,” he says, confidence replacing the nerves, and Emma begins to see why there are so many stories. And Twitter threads. Regarding his face and the potential for that face to date a variety of other attractive faces across at least four of the five boroughs. Somehow Emma doesn’t think Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, is schlepping out to Staten Island for a date.

Nor does she believe that Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, has ever once let the word schlep pass through his conscious mind.

She takes his hand.

It is—

Surprisingly warm. And...not quite soft, that’d be impossible with the job he performs almost nightly. But the calluses on the pads of his fingers aren’t as rough as Emma expects, which also suggests she’s managed to ponder the overall texture of Killian Jones’s fingers in the last twelve point six seconds, and that’s not entirely true. What is true is that Ruby thinks Killian Jones is real good-looking and has determined that the phrase quite a catch is the pinnacle of humor, so, sure, Emma has possibly considered the possibility of paths crossing and intersecting, and her hand looks minuscule wrapped up in his. So, that’s something to think about later.

Their arms move. Bob up and down as society dictates they should, and he’s smiling at her, and she’s trying not to look like a serial killer, straining to hear the voices behind the door, and it does not work.

“Why do you think people are so consistently fascinated by fireworks?” If he’s surprised by her absolutely inane question, he doesn’t show it. That’s points. For what, Emma hasn’t totally decided yet, but it’s something, and it’s probably good, and they’re going to play that clip on loop for weeks. Longer, probably.

Every goddamn day if the Yankees make the postseason.

When the Yankees make the postseason.

Her dad wouldn’t appreciate the buffer. Leaves room for loss, and that is not the Nolan way. Not when there are championships to win, and this was supposed to be the best possible time. Smack dab in the middle of the season, with the All-Star break looming, Henry would get to suit up as batboy for one game that didn’t mean much and wouldn’t draw too strong of a spotlight, no murmurs about nepotism by internet trolls who couldn’t possibly define the word with any sort of accuracy, but also like to shout about canceling and culture with an almost alarming sense of self-righteousness, so, of course, the whole thing was now blowing up in their face.

Much like the goddamn fireworks.

It wasn’t Will Scarlet’s fault.

Wasn’t Henry’s fault, either.

His job was to get the bats out of the field of play. Doing it while the field of play was still active was a mistake any kid could have made. Just so happens that it’s Emma’s kid, and the grandkid of the Yankees’ hitting coach, and that means something to the New York media and the New York fans, and if Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman with an arm that can make cross-field throws with ease, wasn’t also so quick-thinking and sure-footed, scooping Henry up as he crossed home plate and avoiding the ensuing swarm of players at home plate, all intent on celebrating Will Scarlet’s first-ever career walk-off, Emma can only imagine what would have happened.

Trampled. Stepped on. Broken bones. Concussions.

They’re checking Henry for a concussion now. He absolutely does not have a concussion. He was laughing while he was carried off the field. Like he hit the walk-off.

Front office is absolutely petrified she’s going to sue them.

The thought hadn’t even once crossed Emma’s mind. Plus, she’s sort of busy. Holding Killian Jones’s hand. His stupid, warm hand.

“Bright colors,” he says, responding to a question Emma’s nearly forgotten about. Jumping is more challenging when his fingers tighten ever so slightly. “Flash, boom. Taps into baser instincts, I think.” “You think people’s base instinct is to enjoy explosions.” “Phrasing that as a statement makes me think you don’t agree with me.” “You didn’t want me to thank you,” Emma points out.

“Well, no,” he says, and the precise way his eyes drop does something specific to all of her instincts. Leaves her flush with a heat that reminds her of Fourth of July sparklers rather than any sort of massive explosion, and that’s not bad, per se, although it’s admittedly a little surprising. As is the slight uptick of precisely one side of his mouth. It takes her a moment to realize he’s smirking at her. And another for her subconscious to admit that it’s working as intended. Her shoulders drop half an inch. While Emma pulls her hand back to her side. “Thanking me suggests I did anything to warrant the thanks.” “Big words.” “For a dumb athlete, you mean.” “That wasn’t a question, either.” “No,” Killian repeats, “it wasn’t.” “I’d really like to thank you. I—Dad told him when to come out of the dugout, so he definitely knew the rules, but I think he was super worried about you tripping over the bat.”

The smirk becomes a full-blown smile. Which is no less than forty-seven thousand times more powerful. Equivalent to staring directly into a solar eclipse or gazing upon the dark side of the moon, and Emma should at least do some research before coming up with these internal examples. Basic Google searches would provide her with the necessary information.

“That’s more or less what he told me, yeah.” Emma’s nose creases. “Talked your ear off after your daring rescue, huh?” “Keep complimenting me like this, and my ego won’t know what to do with it.”

She hopes she’s not blushing as much as it feels like she is. The state of Killian’s eyebrows and the precise curl of his lips make that seem unlikely. “Your reflexes are unparalleled.” “Something about big bucks and why I get paid them.” “Oh,” Emma laughs, unable to stop herself, and she doesn’t remember deciding to stop pacing, only that her knees appreciate it once she has, “you think you’re real funny, don’t you?” “I think I’m moderately funny, not the hero you’re suggesting I am—” “Oh, I never used the word hero.” “—And you never actually told me your name.”

“Because you don’t know who I am.” It’s not a question, either. Neither one of them mention that.

“I do,” Killian concedes, “Henry was also fairly quick to mention exactly who he was and where his mother was sitting.” Emma’s nose is going to freeze in this position. “But I gave you my name, which makes it only fair that we’re all square and whatnot.” “Whatnot, huh?” “Yup.” He pops his lips on the letter. Which is also unfair. In, like, the grand scheme of the world. The black ooze that is not actually oil when used in this particular metaphor recedes. Leaves Emma with a chest cavity that is partially full of butterfly wings and the growing sense of anticipation that isn’t quite as nerve-wracking as it should be. Like she’s about to step into the batter’s box with two outs and runners in scoring position. She’s totally going to hit against the shift. Fluttering her fingers at her side, Emma doesn’t lift her hand. It doesn’t matter.

Killian’s eyes drop. To the movement. And her. And part of her shies away from that because part of her has spent a lifetime tucked into a shadow that didn’t belong to her and doesn’t belong to Henry, but now there’s some joke about Peter Pan to be made because they live in an internet-age and Killian Jones has a very good face. So. Viral video, enter stage right. Starring Henry Swan, Killian Jones, and the inevitably uneven pitter-patter of Emma’s traitorous heart.

“Emma Swan.” “I think you should sit down.”

“Why is that, exactly?” “I’m worried about your legs.”

Whatever noise she makes can’t quite be classified as a scoff. It hurts her throat too much. And it’s not a laugh, either. Even as the butterflies threaten to rise up in mutiny of Emma’s more rational feelings, and she gets the distinct impression that Killian is reading her mind. Trying very hard, at least.

“Sounds like a line.” “Might be a line,” he admits, which draws another wholly inhuman sound out of Emma’s barely-functioning lungs.

“Did he kick you on the lift?” Killian hums. “You’d kick too if you were just hauled off your feet, so I understand the reaction. What I’m more worried about is the inevitable bruise on my foot from the bat landing there.” “Ah shit, really?” “I’ve had worse.” “But not in 4K video that people will play on loop for the rest of the news cycle. If not longer.” Narrowing his eyes, Killian doesn’t immediately respond. Mind reading requires a modicum of focus, Emma assumes. Instead, he rests a hand on her shoulder, directing her toward the chair and ignoring the soft crack her left knee as it bends. “That’s what you’re worried about.” “Stop sounding so confident.” “I can only sound how I am, Swan.” “Oh, I’m not sure we’ve reached nickname status yet,” she mumbles, pushing down the soft rush of metaphorical insects doing their beset to soar out of her barely-parted lips. “But, yeah, I—I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was totally terrified in the moment.”

“Understandable. Grown men barrelling down the third-base line at your kid are a lot to take in.” She snorts. It’s not cute. Not dignified. Killian smirks. “Should you be concerned that the Scarlet was making such solid headway behind you? Are you exceedingly slow?” “I am league average.” “How fast can you get out of the box to first?” “I’ve never timed it.” “Liar, liar.” “Please don’t make a crack about my pants,” Killian says, “I won’t be able to cope.”

“Oh God, you think you’re charming, too.” “I’ve had no complaints.” “To your face, at least.”

Throwing his head back, the laugh that erupts out of him is not of volcano proportions. Of which there was also one in FernGully if Emma’s memory is to be trusted. An arm circles his middle, stretching muscle and ensuring that Emma notices just how corded that same muscle is, the slight bend of his wrist leaving her off-kilter. When he meets her gaze, she swears his eyes are brighter. “Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” Killian concedes, “no one has flat out told me I was lacking charm to my face.” “This thanking you thing is going great.” “And I continue to not need thanks. Why are you worried about the video getting out there? Filmed in 4K like you suggest, at least we’ll all look great. Sharp pixels and whatnot.” “What do you know about pixels?” “You basically heard the extent just now.”

She’s getting better at laughing. The ooze has almost all but disappeared, Emma twirling a strand of hair around fingers that are intent on moving, and it’s an old habit. One Killian’s gaze catches on. Immediately. Quickly. Seriously, Emma needs a thesaurus. “Baseball’s always been my dad,” she says. “And that’s—well, we’ve lived this game, me and my mom, weekend series and West Coast swings, waiting up for him to get home because the flight got delayed, but Henry’s just a kid, getting thrown into this world because of his last name and who his family is? That sucks. Nothing was supposed to happen tonight.” “Nothing did happen.” “Because of you.” “I’d like to believe Scarlet, ridiculously fast as he might be, would not run over a small child,” Killian says. “And, uh, for the record and all that, I got a bad jump off first because I didn’t know if they were going to catch it in left. No one wants to get caught on the base paths.” “Yeah, that’d be embarrassing.”

He must hear the hitch in her voice because the next thing Emma realizes, her fingers are twisted back up in Killian’s, and she’s warm and falling and flying, and it’s good and weird, and the door swings open.

They both jump.

So, that’s something.

Rushing out quickly enough that he nearly trips over his own feet, Henry’s head leads the way and finds Emma’s stomach, a tangle of limbs, and overly-excited words, all of which rival the now-finished fireworks display in volume.

It takes Henry about five and a half run-on sentences to notice Killian standing there.

His eyes widen. His mouth drops. Killian grins. Emma tries very hard not to die. It only sort of works.

She blames the faulty body parts she’s in possession of.

“Killian,” Henry exclaims, clamoring back to his feet and nearly falling again in the process. Hands that belong to both Emma and Killian dart out, steadying Henry while their eyes meet over the top of his head. Killian winks. He tries. It’s more like a blink than anything. “Hi, hi! You did so good tonight! And we won, and I got to go on the field and—and, it was so,” Henry heaves a deep breath, “we were so good.”

Collective pronouns do something to Emma’s entire state of being.

Flips it on an axis she hadn’t been aware previously existed until it almost feels as if this was the path they’d been directing themselves toward from the start. Her eyes flit toward Killian. Who is already watching her.

“We did,” he nods, “maybe next time, though, you wait one extra second to grab Scarlet’s bat, ok?” Seeing her own nose scrunch reflected back on her kid is not the worst thing that’s ever happened to Emma. The vibrating phone in her back pocket, might be.

It’s one-hundred percent, Ruby.

“That’s what grandpa said too,” Henry grumbles, digging a toe of the cleats Emma’s mother bought him last week into the ground, “but I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall.”

Definitely dying, then. A systematic shut down of all necessary internal organs. It’s not as bad as Emma would have expected.

Neither one of Killian’s knees crack when he bends. That seems heavy-handed.

“And I don’t want you to fall either,” he says, “so we agree, right here, right now, not to let the other one fall, huh?” Emma holds her breath. Ignores the pinch in her lungs and the clearly unstable nature of both her mind and her heart, digging her nails into her palms. To ensure she isn’t tempted to haul Henry back toward her. Or push that one strand of hair away from Killian’s forehead.

Henry nods. “Deal.”

They hook their pinkies together.

It’s adorable and as endearingly charming as everything else Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, has done since he walked into that hallway. Less so when her dad emerges from the office, the athletic trainer on his heels to not-so-quietly inform Killian that he can’t just blow off post-game like that, and the second wink is as bad as the first.

She does her very best to memorize the movement.

And the joy on Henry’s face the next morning when a box arrives on their doorstep, a genuine, game-worn Killian Jones jersey inside. She doesn’t notice the note at first, tucked between the cardboard and the tissue paper someone must have bought for him. He can’t have bought that tissue paper himself. He just—it’s unfathomable.

Emma knows he bought the tissue paper himself.

As clearly as she knows that those numbers in that particular order will lead to Killian Jones answering his phone and that her voice likely won’t shake when she replies to the question written in surprisingly loopy script. Which is why, Emma will argue, she does reply. In the affirmative. To several questions over the course of the remaining season, and they don’t star in any more viral videos, but there are a few pictures once they clinch the division.

Drops of champagne cling to the tips of Emma’s eyelashes and the ends of Killian’s hair, hands on her waist that blaze a quick path up her back and around her middle, and she has to tilt her head up to get the right angles. Of lips. While they kiss in the middle of the clubhouse, the hat someone forced onto Emma’s head falling and it’s impossible to hear over the sound of celebratory fireworks, but she can somehow still hear Henry’s laugh ringing out from the general area near Scarlet’s locker, and his jersey collection is growing at an impressive rate.

No one can withstand the overall cuteness of him.

Emma included. Emma, especially.

Sometimes she worries she’s so happy she’ll burst, unable to contain the sort of emotion her body is still acclimating itself to. But then she realizes just how dumb that is and happiness cannot possibly be quantified, and her head is buzzing enough from champagne that she nearly misses Killian when he says, “people love the bright spots, Swan.” It’s not the most romantic thing he’s told her. Doesn’t crack the top five, quite frankly. She swoons all the same. With her kid laughing and her team winning and that’s about all the sentiment she’s willing to acknowledge before her tongue is in Killian’s mouth. He groans. She grins.

And he’d been right about the video. It wasn’t the embarrassment Emma worried it could be. Was mostly relegated to the corners of the internet set aside for formerly popular content as soon as the season ended, spoken about only in fond recollection as the other seasons went on and the wins kept coming and all three of them stand on a parade float with the World Series trophy a few dozen feet away, several Novembers after that first game.

It’s a Thursday afternoon, then.

And yet Emma never entirely forgets. What the video meant and what it did and she’s not remotely surprised when it finds its way back to the forefront of the sports zeitgeist on a Wednesday in July. Most mentions come with similar taglines and messages. Something about feeling our age and wanna feel old because that bot boy, David Nolan’s grandson, Killian Jones’s stepson, he’s getting drafted now.

Got drafted, technically.

Third round, video of the soon-to-be third baseman for the San Diego Padres makes the internet circuits and garners plenty of interest. It’s not the most exciting video, though. Henry just hugs his family. Who hug tightly back.

What is more exciting is the box that arrives on Emma and Killian’s doorstep. With a note that eventually earns a frame next to the last one and a wholly official, game-worn jersey that has a noticeable streak of dirt across the left sleeve. From sliding head-first into home plate.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #do not ask me why this is so full of ferngully references #i do not have an answer for you #the google doc title for this was: BaseballCuresWritersBlock #thanks baseball

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