#finally had the mindset and energy and inspiration to get some editing done

[cryptidfuckery]

chewing on my fic

[nothums-from-tj]

Hi I’ve had this PPG Foster Care AU running in my head and I’m finally putting it out

(just notes/refs/background until I actually have the time/energy to go further)

I’d like to note first and foremost that I’m doing everything I can to research while making these details and I know I can always use more—I’ll come back and edit with any inaccuracies or plot holes another day! I’ve been inspired to just put the idea out even if it’s not a perfectly well-done fic or comic or whatever

Trigger/content warnings (no graphic details, all mentioned): domestic violence, incarceration, unstable parent, severe depression, suicidal ideation, mental hospital (ever so slight mention), family separation, parental death, child neglect, food instability

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to write this in past or present tense and I’m at work as I’m finishing this so. I’m sorry

Ok so the whole point of this is to say the girls are not biological sisters—they’re all foster sisters with varying different bio families (with no powers) and backgrounds (they’re all in the same grade/age group), and so different reasons they’re in the system. Professor looks into fostering for similar reasons to making them in canon: to give some kids a home where they might not have anywhere else, to provide some kind of safe space where it’s needed and he wants to do what he can to make the world a little better in that sense. Besides, he’s got 3 spare rooms he’s not using anyhow. For convenience’s sake, I’m gonna say he starts fostering in 2005, where his first foster kid also happens to be one of his only 3 “long term” kids

Blossom:

- age 5 when she meets Professor and is brought into his home

- comes from a home with domestic abuse, taught that there are extreme consequences if something is not done “perfectly”

- she herself has never been hit, she’s just seen it happen to her mom few too many times

- that said she develops a habit of doing everything “perfectly” especially under the mindset of “I haven’t been hit bc I’ve done everything right” and carries a small part of that with her throughout her life

- I want to say it’s OCD but is it really an intrusive thought when you’ve known it to happen

- maybe develops DID too which is to be explored at a later date

- even still, every time Professor would raise a hand a little too close or too quickly it’d send her into a fit of tears and he learned to be much slower and more cautious around her in the time being

- unfortunately for Blossom, she got some of the worst of his inexperience and got to witness and go through all of his mistakes given she was literally his first foster and he does everything he can to make up for it after he’s learned/been experienced enough

- she entered the system when her father was finally incarcerated, which also meant her mother wasn’t financially able to support the two of them as a housewife

- she’s also incredibly depressed and keeps having bouts of suicidality and they just can’t keep a child around that too much, not with the risk of her waking up to having no guardian

- as much as she loves and misses her mom, she’s incredibly grateful that someone was willing to take her in and take care of her before visits

- she bonds with Professor almost instantly when she gets curious about his science experiments and he shows her some child-safe ones and they end up doing that together, at least once a week

- after he learned about her interests in reading and when she really started getting interested in science with him he does what he can to introduce new reading suggestions for her age level and things of the sort

- after Blossom there was a few months period of kids only needing a place for a few nights to about 2 weeks before getting sent back home or with another family member, so she tried not to get attached to any other foster siblings until the second long-term kid

- she still wanted a playmate for the few times that she would pick up dolls or whatever, just didn’t really ask for the fear of being “needy” (issues with trauma) or rely on since it’s out of her control

- by the time she’s 12 her mother has been kind of in and out of a mental hospital, so visitation days are wary and sometimes it’s literally just sitting in the room(???? gotta look into how mental hospital visitations work) with her for a few hours

- the second long-term kid is introduced to her about 9 months after being taken in, around 3 months after her 6th birthday

Bubbles:

- had only just recently turned 6 when Professor takes her in

- cried more than any of the other kids Professor had worked with by that time and didn’t really know how to take it

- her parents died suddenly, horrifically, and only had her 16-year-old brother left to take care of her

- since he’s also a minor, he went into the system too, and they got separated along the way (he was placed first)

- she misses him every day, and Professor would often try to get in contact with her brother’s foster home/family to get him to reunite with her

- unfortunately, her brother isn’t as well off as Bubbles is, and there’d be either strict rules from the home or his foster family would refuse to meet

- the last time he tried calling, they had his number blocked, and Bubbles cried for 3 days straight

- she still absolutely adores Blossom, and was always more than happy to color/draw or play with her

- they’re an amazing support system for one another, especially during school

- Bubbles is later adopted providing there’s not much of anywhere else for her to go

- about a year after is when her brother is on his own and is finally able to make contact with Professor again, and he’s not financially able to support Bubbles and himself so he just stops by whenever he can or will babysit or bring the kids to/from school whenever possible

- he’s a good boy

- the period of kids still kinda coming in and out lessens significantly with one room now being filled

- she misses it, a little bit, since it meant she got to make a new friend

- she misses the way her life used to be, her parents and her brother, although she’s still incredibly happy to have Blossom and Professor and to still see her brother every so often

- a year or two after she’s adopted comes a third placed with them, and it takes them a little while to readapt and even longer with someone they don’t have a near-immediate connection with

Buttercup:

- introduced to the Utonium fam about a month after her 10th birthday

- expected to be like a mini adult by the age of like 6

- she’s sheltered and clothed so it took forever for the right people to find out she’s been neglected

- eventually her parents would kinda forget to bathe her or sometimes provide meals so that’s how she got removed from them (I guess like a less drastic/severe “Opal” situation???) (linked: short film by Jack Stauber)

- her mother’s voice is sweet like honey, somehow even more so when asking her to stop screaming for a need to be met (“The whole neighborhood’s going to think I’m a bad mother.”) (0:16) (linked: clip from “Moral Orel”)

- her father’s voice is stern and reflective, he could be a great speaker or narrator so long as no one listens to a word he says (“It’s your problem. I trust you know how to deal with it.” “I’m only 9!” “That’s no excuse.”) (0:43) (linked: same “Moral Orel” clip)

- poor volume control also gets her in a bit of trouble with Professor just of course not nearly as bad/much, even less so when he realizes she can’t control it

- some behavioral issues as well which kinda come with being neglected

- absolutely hates visitations, always comes back in a horrid mood and usually slams the door and won’t leave/allow anyone in for a day and a half if she can allow it

- it gets even worse after she starts getting used to/comfortable with the treatment she gets with Professor vs at home

- it takes a while for the other two to warm up to her, mostly with Bubbles pushing hardest to find ways they can all hang out together

- plus when her brother met her when picking them up from from school one day they got along almost instantly so she wanted to see that charm of her more often

- near constant arguments with Blossom bc negative attention is still attention

- especially when Blossom has to do everything “the right way” and Buttercup likes getting that blow-up reaction (again: negative attention is still attention) when she doesn’t follow her rules/patterns

- anyway after a few months she was looking for a volleyball opponent and so taught her how to play and ended up really liking it so their relationship started improving

- she’d also have some dance parties with Bubbles so their relationship improved too

- otherwise she’d draw/color with them once in a while and played some pretend games on the rare occasion so things started getting easier

- especially when Professor got them (1 to share) an Xbox or PlayStation or something for Buttercup’s first Christmas with them and they all started playing video games together

- her parents have also taught her that she’s just dumb since she struggles to read and quite literally gave up once she started kindergarten and her teachers have had very little say other than that they hope whatever is happening improves (gotta love the educational neglect /s)

- her grades/participation goes up while with rest and Professor actually gets her tested with dyslexia so she can get the help she needs

- it takes a while to learn that she can ask nicely for a need to be met, positive attention can be acquired, she’s not stupid, she can ask for help, and she’s allowed to feel her feelings

I’ve yet to decide if their names are as they are in canon or I might go with the names in the ep “Oops, I Did It Again!” (Bubbles as Bertha, Buttercup as Betty, I don’t remember Blossom’s) or if Blossom and Buttercup get adopted as well. I’ll have to look more into reunification and qualifications for that, and even then develop more of a storyline with each of their families to really get a good idea. Hope it’s ok so far though!! I’ll come back another day to edit/update with any other research or ideas to fill in any gaps

[periminkle]

Orphic | 01

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.3k (includes slightly edited version of preview!)

rating: PG-15

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, scuffle, not nice people >:(

author’s note: the first chap! thanks so much for all the love for the preview and pls let me know if you enjoyed it bc i have even more of a praise kink than our king jimin :) i don’t wanna know if u hated it lmao get outta herE

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“Almost there... And... Done!”

I heaved the last of the sturdy boxes into the narrow doorway, pride bubbling at my unexpected strength. Droplets of salty perspiration were beginning to form at my temples and became increasingly uncomfortable the longer I stood there. 

But, with a litter of obnoxiously brown boxes blocking the route into my recently purchased home, I had no way of setting foot past the minimal space by the doorway. “Shit.”

Spontaneously deciding that enough energy had been exerted for the day, evident by the shroud of darkness out the expansive windows, a few steps took me back out the front door. I followed the chipped white timber of the sides of my house, heading towards the back entrance.

Even though the plot was relatively large in size, the cottage built upon the land was minuscule; a single floor encompassing a kitchen, living room, hallway, bedroom and bathroom. 

With that being said, the rest of the expanse was mine to revel in and admire. Hence the lack of fence encompassing my area, seeing as the forest bled its way into my recently mowed lawn anyhow.

The bulk of the towering woodland was hidden in a blanket of obscurity, brought about by the later hours that subtly induced unease. Those late night horror movie marathons only worsened the unrest in my mind. 

I tried to dispel the disquietude with thoughts of the methodic chirping, courtesy of the tiny orchestra of crickets that seemed to be scattered in every which direction. The smell of the damp earth invaded my senses and relaxed my shoulders a fraction.

Albeit, the crunch of dead leaves being trampled under a heavy weight belonging to an unknown being unsettled me enough to break into a scurry along my wooden porch. 

With a slight shiver slipping down my spine, I shook any solicitude off and slid open the unlocked door. I was greeted by the cool air conditioning of the indoors, as well as a telltale grumble from my own drained form.

I preheated a batch of leftovers that I’d thankfully packed from my family’s house, foreseeing how debilitating the move would be. Without regard to the lamentable furniture surrounding me, I plonked down on a creaky seat and felt my depleted energy stored slowly being refilled with each bite.

Even though my furnishings and house were humble, regret had no place in my mind for the difficult decision I’d made to pack up and leave my childhood home. Over there, the lights never flickered and scuffled furniture simply didn’t exist, with even the moldings on the walls lacking even a speck of dust.

But I witnessed, lived, through the monstrosities that lay beyond all those superficial aspects. The suffocating nature, not in the air that circulated around the place, but in the individuals with no respect for one another. My tolerance thinned over the years and I’d left the second I could.

Living in a secluded area of my tiny town had its own perks for my antisocial self — one of which being an absurd amount of land for a relatively cheap price — but the appeal of living in a bustling city wasn’t lost on me. 

For reasons excluding my relatives, I was simply tired of having lived in a city my whole life and desired some form of change, meeting new mindsets and developing my own.

Before I’d even properly settled in, I’d been convinced that moving out here had been a brilliant decision. Saving up for a couple years to be able to rent out a cozy cottage with a stunning forest as my backyard was turning out to be my haven.

Albeit, the pesky bugs were certainly not a part of that bliss.

I detached myself from the distant thoughts about my life hundreds of miles away and focused on the scenery across from me, better able to observe the breathtaking quality of the tenebrous forest from the safety of my new home. The sylvan scent penetrated my home, having closed only the window screen behind me when I entered.

Hearing the weak mewl of some kind of feline peaked my curiosity, wondering if a neighbour’s cat had taken a long journey and gotten themselves lost. I picked up the slow movement slinking among the bramble that connected my backyard to the thick timberland. 

The light from my lamps only extended so far and unluckily, I was unable to properly identify the animal staggering towards my back porch. My heart ached, thinking that this poor animal must be starving and in need of help. 

An apparent limp in its movements tugged at the last of my heartstrings. My fridge was stocked full, being one of my top priorities when I moved in; so food wasn’t a problem right now. Deciding it would be nice to make a new friend, I gathered my own bowl and headed outside.

The sliding of the window screen startled the pitiful creature, making a hasty retreat in the form of a hobble to find refuge in the foliage, hiding and waiting for my next move. I let out a small smile, hoping to appear as friendly as possible as I slowly stepped out into the chilly night air once again. 

“Hey buddy, what’re you doing out here?” I crouched down and laid the bowl on the floor. “It’s kinda cold out, hm?”

Not even the twitch of a leaf.

“Are you hungry?” 

I was met once again with no reaction. Deflated yet understanding in the lack of trust, I pushed myself back up, grabbing the bowl. As I stepped towards the door though, I heard it again.

Mew.

With a quiet giggle, I turned back, winked at the still-hidden creature and stepped inside, sliding the door closed. The night was silent, save for the trill of the crickets reaching their own encore for the night when the door abruptly opened once again.

“You like tuna, bud?” A smaller plate with canned tuna, out of the can but still in its cylindrical shape was placed on the last step of the porch. “Thought you might like that more than leftovers, huh?”

Although the same lack of response took place, I wasn’t deterred this time, smiling one last time into the darkness. “Enjoy it, but not too much okay? Go back to your owner’s house after this.” I let a shiver run through my body from the cold nipping my bare skin before ambling back inside to finish off my own dinner.

Despite my words, I did hope the kitty would come visit again.

I felt yet another ache pulse through my stiff back. The absence of a proper bed to sleep in at night was duly noted and the task of assembling my bed frame was bumped up higher on my to-do list for the day. Another night of cuddling up on the freezing, rigid floor with only a flimsy sheet to cushion my restless body might strip a decade out of my life expectancy.

A feeble attempt to flatten out my wrinkled button up — that I painstakingly ironed the day before — proved as fruitless as the dozen other times I tried smoothing it out just this morning. I brushed the imaginary dust off my modest pencil skirt while I was at it, resigning to my rumpled fate.

Groaning, I swiftly nabbed a granola bar and a pre-made sandwich I’d filled with tuna, inspired by the incident with the hidden feline last night. Despite the gruelling urge within me to check for possible remainders on the porch step, the blinking light from the oven clock pushed me down the slender hall and back to my barricaded doorway,

I squawked in recollection, pushing at the hefty boxes in a flurry. Eventually, I created a tunnel which I crawled through, slipping some sneakers on before stumbling out to the bus stop. When I recalled that the closest stop was a five minute walk, time being a luxury I couldn’t afford right now, I broke into a sprint.

With heaving lungs, I reached the little blue shelter just as the bulky vehicle rounded the corner. A few steps, the tap of a card, the beep of the completed transaction, and a huff brought me on to an austere seat. 

The same shade of prosaic blue within the bus itself led my eyes to the view beyond the dirty windows, marvelling at the vibrant greens and bright earthy tones that blocked any view of the sky. 

Fifteen minutes condensed into seconds, my mind racing with the new possibilities and experiences this town would bring me. Even the prospect of the shy kitty returning again tonight prompted a brief smile.

Dismounting from the stifling vehicle, I took a moment to adjust to the blinding white shade of the laboratory; I pursed my lips in determination. Hoping to appear graceful with long strides, I made my way to the entrance, pulling open the heavy door with a click. A receptionist came into view. 

She could barely be seen over the lengthy, curved desk, only the top of her coiffed strands on the crown of her head peaking through. As I approached, I took in her excessively teased hair and big brown eyes, accented with thick, black liner. 

Clasping both hands together in a bundle of chilly nerves, I patiently waited for the tapping of the keyboard to cease before she turned one heavily shadowed lid towards me. “Hello, welcome to the Test Centre of Enriched Mutagens, how can I help you today?”

Only slightly intimidated, I fumbled with my fingers out of sight. “Uh, hi there. I recently got hired as a lab attendant here.” Cursing my distinctly timid tone I continued, “I was instructed to ask for a Kim Seokjin?”

A stiff nod and more typing was my only reply. Orbs remaining trained on the monitor in front of her as the lady picked up the receiver, punched some numbers in a rapid succession, then situated the phone between her right shoulder and ear. The fervent tapping continued.

I wondered what she was typing up that was so important.

“Yes, she’s here director,” she quipped. My gaze lodged itself onto her name tag, framed by her strawberry blonde locks. Bae Eunmi. “Of course, I’ll send her up.”

The receiver clicked in place as she nodded her head towards the left. After a couple seconds passed with no further acknowledgement, I became increasingly aware that the short interaction was all I was going to get out of the curt woman, trekking over to the elevator she had indicated earlier.

With only two floors to the laboratory, the trip wasn’t long enough to grant me time to compose myself from the abrupt conversation I experienced before I was met with a long hallway, ending with a sturdy door that had a slit above the bulky handle for a keycard.

Seeing as I had not received any sort of card, I peered around at the nameplates drilled beside the other wooden doors. This floor ominously had no windows, a dingy, low lamp the only source of light that allowed me to decipher the engravings.

I passed a few flashy titles before I reached Assistant Director Kim Seokjin.

With a deceivingly confident knock and a shaky inhale I picked up a faint, “come in.”

A rather spacious office was revealed as I pulled open the heavy wood — shelves filled with packed binders, loose papers scattered across the desk with a thin monitor practically concealed under neon coloured sticky notes. Even the two chairs tucked away in the corner had a teetering stack of paperwork on each seat.

I took a step inside the chaotic space and bowed to the man whose sunken eyes flickered to my own. “Hi, sorry to disturb you. My name is Y/N and we talked on the phone last week. I’m the new research attendant.”

He flashed me a kind smile through his exhaustion, his evidently dull features proof of a long night. Considering the sheer amount of paper work in his office, I wasn’t sure a good night’s rest was ever on this man’s schedule.

“Ah, yes, you came down from the city, correct?” I nodded in confirmation, glad he remembered our previous conversation. “My apologies that the director couldn’t meet you himself, but you’ll get to see my handsome face instead,” he chuckled, sounding faintly similar to a windshield wiper. “I’m Kim Seokjin, the assistant director, but you can just call me Jin, everyone here does.”

I felt my tense body slacken at his warmth and bright disposition despite his arduous workload. Unconsciously, I suspected the whole staff may be terse and unwelcoming, though I was thankful that I was pleasantly mistaken. In my comfort, a chortle escaped my lips. “Alright then, Jin, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Of course it is,” he exclaimed with a jesting harrumph. “So, how are you liking this lonely town so far?”

Taking a few steps closer I responded honestly. “Even though the loneliness hasn’t hit me yet, I feel like I can finally breathe here. The city was a bit much sometimes.”

Humming in an understanding tone, I watched him rise from his plush chair, plucking one of the many binders out of the shelf and placing it on top of the mountain of papers on his desk. “That’s a good mentality, you know? I hope you can always find the silver lining in any situation you’re thrown into.”

Jin grips one of the many contracts laid within and slides it over to me with a pen. “Sign each highlight please.”

As I read over all the nitty gritty details, the man across from me continued, “I really hope you can be as resilient as we need you to be, Y/N. I know it’s tough work, but I just have a good feeling about you.”

Not paying much mind to Jin’s ramblings I easily agreed and handed the completed contract back.

“Well, come on then, I’ll introduce you to the people you’ll be working with.”

I accompanied Jin back out his office and down the hall, past yet another sturdy wooden door. The strong, pungent scent of coffee assaulted my nose, confirming the new space I’d entered was the break room; two male employees lounging around and sipping on their steaming mugs. 

“You finally came out of that office Jin?” A tall man leaning against one of the tables called out first, grinning with his dimples on full display. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, well, it seems like I’m the only one doing work around here anymore.” He jested, a playful smirk attached to his handsome visage.

“You can’t blame us, you know Hyunho and Minzi would never let us breathe the same air as their ‘confidential project.’ Wouldn’t want our ‘inexperienced hands’ ruining the whole thing.” The other man in the room rolled his eyes, taking another sip of the bitter liquid in his cup. 

“We’re not getting into this again, you two.” Seokjin gave a stern look, any lighthearted air in the room dissipating along with his remark. He glanced back at me, nudging me forward with a tap to my shoulder. “This is the new lab attendant, Y/N.”

Although the sharp-eyed man spared a sympathetic glance my way he backfired with, “yeah, the third one this month.” 

“Yoongi, I said that’s enough.” Although Seokjin’s words were strict and clipped, the palm rubbing over his face displayed his fatigue.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t even have access to the files, I mean we are researchers too, this is complete bullshi—”

“Y/N, I’ll be heading back to my office to finish up some paperwork, alright? These two can show you ropes.” The assistant director turned in my direction, the corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly before trudging back to his office.

The shorter man slammed his mug down on the shabby table with a low, “goddamnit.”

“Honestly, I think this little guy is the best part of the whole place.” The dimpled man who had introduced himself as Kim Namjoon flashed his dimples, attempting to overcompensate for his gloomy partner, Min Yoongi. 

The two had been working as lab assistants here for a few years now and despite the seniority, Namjoon insisted on maintaining a first name basis with both him and Yoongi. He also offered a tour, which I graciously accepted.

“A jaguar?”

“A baby jaguar.” The sprawled sleeping form of a pitch black feline met my eyes. “He was brought in about three months ago. His name is Taemin.” I carefully approached the cage, maintaining a safe distance as a general precaution despite his lack of consciousness. 

Rather than providing comfort, I found that the muzzle locked around his jaws unsettled me further, which I found oddly paradoxical. I guess my designated tour guide picked up on my discomfort when he voiced, “he’s docile enough to us, but if Hyunho or any of his lackeys come by, he can get real aggressive.”

This was the second time that name popped up into the conversation and I quelled my blazing curiosity, dispelling any urges to question Namjoon about the mysterious figure. With the negative context his name was brought up with and the dark, brooding look Yoongi wore, I decided it was best not to prod, for my own sake as well.

I was brought back to reality when the animal in front of me shifted slightly. Despite my reluctancy to become attached, I couldn’t help but coo when a stretch wracked his small form, turning over in his sleep. 

Although I had done my share of research into this laboratory before applying to the position and was cognizant that they didn’t harm any of their subjects — I knew Taemin’s life wasn’t in any danger, but he would be gone once all his testing was complete. I refused to get too emotionally attached in order to avoid future heartache.

 I noticed his head cuddling deeper into his plush bed and knew my plan was futile. “You think he would like me?”

Namjoon let out a hum in thought, “I’m not too sure. You can try petting him if you want, just make sure to let him sniff you first.”

Slowly unlocking the cage, I extended my hand towards the muzzle, waiting with bated breath. The still sleeping animal brought up its head and placed his cheek in my cupped hand, letting loose a faint purr that I felt traveling up my palm. I stroked the edge of his jaw that wasn’t covered by the muzzle.

Oh no.

It was too late, Taemin owned every inch of my heart.

Gently placing his head back down onto his fluffy bed, my hand made a swift retreat as I flicked the lock back in place. I hoped I would be able to see more of the baby in the future.

Standing back up to face Namjoon I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the angel behind bars. Pondering when we would head to the second floor after having examined every speck of dust in the first floor, I voiced my thoughts to the lanky man. “So, are we heading back up now?” 

A sigh met my ears and I turned to look at the brooding culprit who hadn’t opened his mouth since the tense interaction with Seokjin, simply tagging along the tour that Namjoon narrated. “We can’t introduce you to anything you haven’t already seen upstairs.” When he met my confused orbs he continued, “we can only enter the break room and Jin’s office up there, everything else is off limits.”

“Oh, um... I don’t mean to sound rude, especially since this is my first day and everything, but the equipment down here seem pretty... Insufficient for quality resear-” I stuttered out my concerns.

“Don’t you think we know that? Why do you think we go through lab attendants so quickly? Nobody wants to stay in a place that doesn’t have the proper equipment to perform any kind of substantial research. Not to mention neither of the head researchers trust us enough to even look at the stupid files.”

Namjoon piped in, probably sensing how heated the other man was getting. “We mainly just note the patterns in the bases of a variety of animals’ DNA that involve certain genes.”

“Not to say that’s not effective research, but scientists with your qualifications usually investigate more ground-breaking subjects.” I became a bit dejected at my own future here; I applied for a job here to further my ambitions, knowing this lab was well-known for its high quality studies.

Would I be forced to move back to the city? I couldn’t tuck tail and scutter home after all the effort and money I expended on this move, not to mention the disastrous situation I would be faced with if I returned now. No, I was desperate to find a reason to stick it out. “Why do you two stay here then? Why not just find another lab?”

“It wasn’t always like this, Y/N. It’s been over half a year now since the new management came in and basically brought in a whole new set of personnel with them. They took all the most expensive equipment upstairs and sealed it behind a locked door.”

“They even replaced the damned cleaning staff.” Yoongi scoffed out, painstakingly fed up with the circumstances.

Namjoon crossed his arms, giving a warning look over to man with bleached locks, probably in order to keep his anger from bleeding through for the second time today. “They were adamant about keeping Jin and he let us stick around, couldn’t leave this lab in the hands of complete strangers.”

“But why—”

My wrist was suddenly enclosed in Yoongi’s long, thin fingers, dragging me into the assistant researcher’s office they had familiarized me with half an hour ago. I saw Namjoon glance around before entering in after us and closing the door behind him.

Yoongi released his grip on me, leaning in close and hissing out, “it’s all some cryptic confidentiality bullshit. They’re doing something up there, something revolutionary, something dangerous, and they only trust their own people to keep quiet.” 

With a hum, slightly intimidated, I questioned, “okay, but why did they evacuate the whole place, why not just build another lab and—”

Namjoon leant against the door, lowering his voice as well. “This is a remote town, there won’t be many people to question and investigate what they’re studying all the way out here.” 

With many overwhelming thoughts raging, the locked door upstairs abruptly came to mind. “You don’t have the keycard either, I’m guessing.”

“You pick things up pretty quick, huh?”

After the draining events at work, I felt no motivation to peel off my thoroughly wrinkled items of clothing, having switched out of the lab clothes in the changing room back at work. 

Rather than a physical enervation, the realization that my expectations to further my own studies was not a reality here sapped me of any incentive to unpack or do anything of value.

The temptation of warm pyjamas encasing my shivering body as I slept another night on the hard surface of the floor was almost reason enough to conjure up some hidden energy from the deepest recesses of my body. 

I crawled my way though the makeshift hole I made earlier in the day through two of the boxes. Thankfully, no roommates meant that the house was absent of another being to pester me regarding the hassle I made at the entrance, though I thought it was quite clever considering my circumstances.

The sun had set many hours back, which I failed to detect as all my concentration was set on marking down the base sequence that brought about Taemin’s black fur colour. Jin was double-checking the state of each room before locking up for the night when he discovered my form, hunched over a microscope. 

Continuing to the kitchen on hands and knees out of my present shortage in strength, I nearly decided to call it a night right there in the middle of the hallway. Though, I settled with briskly whipping up an egg or two in hopes that it would replenish enough energy to tidy up a bit before retiring to bed. 

I left the eggs to cook as I departed, off to locate a plate, which I only had two of at the moment, courtesy of the unloading that needed to be completed at the doorway. A glimpse into the sink revealed the location of one suspect, dirty from yesterday’s dinner.

I tugged open the nearest cabinet to search for the other one because I sure as hell was not washing any dishes right now. But, instead of the ceramic I was expecting, the bare walls of the storage area stumped me.

The memory of the creature I’d met yesterday flashed through my mind, bringing about a sudden burst of excitement that had me shuffling my way to the backyard door, flicking the porch light on and staring at the wood that seemed to glare back at me. 

No sight of the tuna or the plate. 

Initially, I took extreme offence to the absurd situation. I graciously extended a helping hand to a vulnerable cat to enjoy some savoury tuna and the bugger decided to steal—

Wait.

How in the hell did the thumbless feline pick up the hefty plate in the first place?

After snooping around the surrounding area a bit, no sight of the pristine plate, I gave up. Maybe it held the ceramic in its mouth?

The mental image I’d conjured up brought a slight chuckle out of me, cutting short when catching sight of several crimson paw prints on the porch, accompanied by specks of the same hue. I pondered the unusually large size of the print, slightly larger than my palm. 

An alarmingly large quantity of blood appeared with each step, the pace of my heart quickening with worry both for myself and the creature. Who could harm a massive animal like this and for what purpose?

I also thought about if the splotches would wash out with the rain or if I had to slot in a time to come out and clean off the marks. Although, the cleaning supplies were also in those unpacked boxes, so any stain removal had to be put on hold.

The bloody prints extended into my lawn as well, blades of grass covered in a layer of red. From what I could make out, the trail was U-shaped, beginning from the forest, coming to where I stood at the porch, then heading back.

A spike of fear travelled through me when a thicket shook violently. Were these stains left by the kitty I encountered the day before? From my limited knowledge in zoology, I doubted that large cats could even produce such pathetic mewls with their vocal chords, which were better suited to growl or roar. 

But what was a creature of this size doing on the outskirts of civilization? I wasn’t too sure about how far the woodlands extended past my yard, but I was relatively certain that the bulkier predators had more than enough space to themselves without needing to expand their territory.

I was in the midst of this back-and-forth conflict with myself when I heard a familiar cry reaching my ears. Pushing back my raucous thoughts for a moment, I settled on responding to little thief.

“You’re back! Do you happen to have my plate by any chance?”

The lack of response confirmed my suspicions. I was now down to one, currently grubby plate in the house.

“Alright, fine, keep the damn thing.” The initial fear and suspicion I felt had simmered down quite bit, heavily due to the lack of aggression on the animal’s part and a distinct fondness I held for my first friend here that I wasn’t aware of yet. Though, I remained on guard, as there could always be another beast lurking.

In order to discover any of answers I was seeking, I knew that I had to take matters into my own hands and decipher whether my pitiful kitty was actually a large, ferocious feline— badly hurt, nonetheless. I took the portable first-aid kit out of my bag as well as the forgotten, squished tuna sandwich.

Removing the saran wrap and crumpling it into a ball, I placed the much-smaller-than-I-remember sandwich down on the wood as bait. “Guess we can’t be civil, huh bub? If you’re gonna steal my plate, have the courage to show yourself, you criminal," I teased and hoped to lure the cautious creature out. 

Nothing.

“Hey, you wanna come and let me get a look at you? I can see if I can patch you up, how about that?”

Nope.

“Come on, look! You’re favourite tuna, in a delicious sandwich now!”

Nada.

I pouted at the bundle of leaves I knew the feline was hiding under, hoping to elicit some kind of reaction. Albeit, any sliver of hope was crushed with the lack of movement. Worry grew at the back of my mind, desperately hoping that the creature could live through their seemingly dire injuries. I flashed a regretful smile and lowered the sandwich on the last step. 

At the very least, I wished that the snack would provide energy for its body to repair itself. With one last glance at the silent underbrush, I turned my back and lumbered into the confines of my cottage. Hopefully, I would get another chance to beckon the mammal out of its hiding place tomorrow.

The contrast of the dark droplets of blood against the light wood of my porch disturbed me more than I’d like to admit.

The daily routine of travelling to work, interacting with the few friends I made there and coming back home to attend late night meetings with my concealed kitty was growing on me. I was elated that I finally found a group of my own people, and not-quite-people, to converse and share thoughts with. 

However, this town also seemed to have its own fair share of rotten apples.

I finally met the rumoured Lee Hyunho, a bulky man who introduced himself as one of the two head researchers. He seemed polite enough at first, but I detected the same brusque characteristic I noticed in the receptionist from my first day. 

It appeared that all the staff brought in by the “new” management had this particular quality. 

My own frustrations began to grow alongside Namjoon and Yoongi, constantly repeating the same tasks over and over again, day after day. When I tried to confront the other head researcher, Joo Minzi, about granting us more access to the studies they were conducting, she made it very clear that my “inexperienced hands” were not permitted to touch any of their files, test subjects or even approach the lab upstairs.

Charming, really.

The interaction left me fuming, much to Namjoon’s amusement, claiming that he now had two fiery beasts to quell. My interactions with the arrogant staff members were limited though, and bouncing between Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and the surprisingly amicable janitor made the work days bearable. 

I also took immense pleasure in going against Minzi’s words by playing with Taemin every once in a while.

I was proud to announce my accomplishment in finally unloading all of the supplies within my many boxes to anyone that would listen, now able to revel in the tidiness of my living space. The guys were able to visit now too, previously refusing to crawl through my rather unique entryway.

Progress concerning my kitty was little to none, but I did discover that it was immensely therapeutic to relay my worries to the mammal, finding comfort in its presence.

I took the rustling of the leaves as acknowledgement for my exasperated tone. “I mean, I don’t even feel like a researcher there! It’s all ‘hey newbie, go get me a coffee,’ ‘this is classified, no touching,’ ‘you can’t participate, this isn’t a charity,’ blah, blah, blah...” I raised my tone and ended my rant with a pout, embodying the childish behaviour that encompassed how I felt I was being treated as of late.

“Remember the really cute janitor I was telling you about? Jung Hoseok? Well, he was telling me about some stuff he heard when he was cleaning the lab upstairs.” I heard a short swish of foliage being disrupted, which I assumed was a result of the creature tilting its head.

“Apparently, they’d made big advancements on whatever stupid ‘highly confidential’ project they’re working on. It definitely has something to do with the patterns in different animals’ DNA, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what they’re trying to accomplish...

“And guess what? Hoseok said he’d overheard that they’d lost a test subject a little over a week ago! There’s probably a mouse scurrying around somewhere, living his best, liberated life right now.” I shifted in place, adjusting my position to make myself more comfortable in the chilly night. “I just wish I knew what was going on, you know...”

“I wanted to prove them all wrong.” I sneaked a glimpse at the forest for any indication of a vocal response I knew the creature gave occasionally. In a small voice I added, “but maybe they were right.”

Another shuffle broke through my lengthy monologue and I facetiously grinned towards the camouflaged animal. “Y’know, I’m starting to really question whether you’re here for my company or for this,” I pointed to the tuna, disturbingly still in that short cylindrical shape. 

I stared past the obscure stalks of the trees, having found consolation and tranquility in the space a few days prior, even from beyond my glass door. My initial apprehension of unknown monsters subsided and it was reassuring to know that my kitty was somewhere in there as well.

Another shuffle revealed a pair of bright, beady eyes meeting my own enlarged ones. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest by the sudden appearance, although I tried not to alarm the creature back into hiding by revealing my own trepidation. 

Knowing the keen senses felines had, there was little doubt in my mind that the one across from me wouldn’t be able to pick up my instantaneous change in demeanour.

“You gonna come and get it or what?” With a slight nod towards the meal, I cursed the slight quiver in my voice and prayed that the creature felt comfortable enough to reveal more of itself to me. My curiosity was bubbling as I allowed my gaze to travel to the crown of its head. 

I concluded that the creature’s fur was either pure black or another dark tone, hard to decipher when I didn’t have the enhanced night vision of the mammal perched a few metres away. Said feline made no further movements, keeping his gaze trained on me. 

I analyzed the elongated slits that served as pupils, engraving the rich green shade of its irises into my mind, fearful that this sudden intimacy may scare the mammal off, never to be seen again. But, I found myself unable to divert my gaze, feeling as though I was staring at a physical manifestation of the pure soul of the forest.

It was utterly mesmerizing.

An impatient gruff left the creature’s mouth, snapping me out of my reverie and I resigned. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m leaving alright?”

Maybe one day the mammal would feel comfortable enough to eat in front of me and I could migrate my dinners to the porch outside. Refusing to get too greedy, I reminded myself that the baby steps taken today were infinitely better than none at all.

With one foot in my house, I turned back to the tantalizing eyes, still focused on my pyjama-clad form as I beamed back gratefully. “’Night bud.”

The snapping of the lock clicking back into place alleviated some of the soreness of my overworked muscles as I took another step inside. My head fell back to sneak a glance at the ceiling, hoping to peek past the old plaster and stare into the eyes of any higher being out there.

I quickly considered whether to thank them for this opportunity of a lifetime or to curse them out for my seemingly limitless workload.

As my eyelids slid close in defeat, an exhausted sigh involuntarily slipped out into the silence. Kicking off my shoes into the pitiful pile by the doorway to join the rest of its brethren, I wandered deeper into my rather small abode in the darkness; only my padded footsteps and the zipper of my jacket being undone 

Hearing my stomach rumble with its complaints, I made the couple steps toward the kitchen’s light switch. But, an abrupt halt came with the memory of yesterday’s optimistic plan of embarking on a trip to the grocery store after a short work shift.

Evidently, I hadn’t predicted the gruelling day I would have nor the extra hours that would be requested of me. I found that I’d been frequenting the store quite often as of late, the demand of food increasing once another mouth to feed came into question.

In a reluctant fashion, I pulled my jacket back up to my shoulders, knowing that the fridge was just as empty as my stomach currently was. I pushed my aching limbs back towards the entrance, pondering over whether the grocery store was even open this late in the night.

However, I was forced to a grinding halt once again as I heard a booming thump from my backyard and my blood ran cold.

I waited with bated breath as my heart rate elevated, pounding in my ears. A minute of stillness passed before yet another sigh escaped my jittery body. Another disadvantage of a remote plot included being frightened by every snap of a twig.

As a scoff passed through my chapped lips at my own cowardly antics, I began to resume my trek to the front door when another thud reached my ears. The recognition of the sound coming from the backyard alerted me that this time may be different, with the presence of an actual threat.

Following a series of gut-wrenching cracking noises, hurried footsteps approaching the wooden porch in my backyard startled me to action.

Hastily, I dashed back to the kitchen to grab an unnecessarily large kitchen knife out of the drawer and flew to cover behind my minuscule island. A quick glimpse down towards my chest revealed my shaking hands. Well, this is certainly one way to spice up my night.

Listening to the intruder fumble with the lock for a little while before it was being smashed into, I knew I couldn’t just stay cowering behind my kitchen island, waiting for this murderer to come and end my night (and all my subsequent nights thereafter). The rage behind having to buy and reinstall a new lock also propelled my need for revenge.

I took in a deep breath and steeled myself as the footsteps wandered in, coming straight towards the kitchen. A loud growl reverberated throughout my house and befuddled me further. Was the intruder simply a feral animal? The lack of a problem with my lock dismissed that thought but I couldn’t shake the feeling of a predator having sneaked into my house.

The feeling of being stalked.

I rapidly shook off that irrational thought, doubtful the stranger even knew of another presence in the house. As the intruder turned the corner — coming straight towards my hiding spot — I reared back a little before launching myself with my dull knife leading the way.

A screech made its way out of my throat as the intruder’s reflexes were evidently a lot better than mine, catching my wrist before I could inflict any damage. But, I refused to give in just yet as I attempted to smash the hard edge of my palm straight into the stranger’s nose in order to buy myself some time to flee.

Unfortunately, for me, that attack never reached its target as the intruder caught my throat in his other hand much faster and used his larger frame to smash my body against the fridge.

The wind escaped me, though I kept squirming to try whip my knee straight to his crotch as a final ditch attempt. I lightly cursed as a glimpse informed me the intruder was a brawny man.

He noticed my struggle and easily flipped me around, one hand finding purchase in my hair, banging my head against the cool metal of the fridge and the other held both of my hands pinned to my back. The knife clattered to the ground in a dangerous arc.

In the middle of wondering how the hell he gathered my wrists and disabled me in a split second, I felt a heavy growl in the shell of my ear. A cold shiver slipped down my spine, adrenaline slowing leaving my body as we both puffed out breaths of exertion.

What the actual fu—

“No hurt, need bandage and go.”

His broken English came out with a slight accent and I found myself nodding instantaneously as I tried to work out what he needed. “Okay, okay,” I muttered as best as I could with half my face smushed, “I have bandages in the big drawer by the sink. You can take those.”

I only received a grunt in acknowledgement. He nudged me with his foot to shuffle backwards with his hand still wrapped around my wrists and led me to the sink. Half curious about his motives and half accepting that I could never overpower the stranger, I followed obediently. Though that didn’t stop me from deliberating over how to outsmart the man.

Deciding on waiting for an opening or a slack in the grip around my wrists, I nodded my head towards the drawer I was referring to earlier and finally peered up at my intruder’s shadowed face. He wore a black ball cap on, aiding in hiding his features which were mostly guarded by the lack of light anyway.

A glance at the lower half of his visage allowed me to witness his pale lips and the small mole directly underneath them, as well as a sharp jawline leading to his exposed neck. Inconspicuously bringing my gaze even lower, I took in his matching tattered black outfit, confirming his bulky build and scuffed sneakers.

Maybe I could run to the nearest police station — which admittedly, was rather far, and provide a detailed description of the criminal. Considering if I made it out alive, of course.

With his vacant hand he swiftly pulled the drawer open, taking handfuls of bandages, gloves, bandaids and other miscellaneous items I crammed in there. The stranger stuffed as much equipment as he could fit into the large pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

I would have found his full little pouch endearing if I wasn’t preoccupied with worrying over my own well-being.

Another awkward wobble later, we were back at the fridge. At this point, I was gathering all the courage I had left to aim for a pressure point on the criminal’s thigh that I vaguely knew the location of. I should have paid more attention in those self-defence classes, damnit.

Just as I turned to act, he bent down to pick up the discarded knife off the floor, effectively deterring my attack and forcing me into submission. He then turned to me to flash a slight smirk.

“Cute.”

Releasing his death grip on my bound wrists, he sprinted back out my now broken back door, heading off.

After a couple minutes of stewing in my thoughts, back against the cool fridge, I  struggled to comprehend the brief interaction and the dark drops of crimson littered all over my white tiles.

I still have to go grocery shopping.

tags: @aurorakingsley​

[hylialeia]

hey Leia! Do you think A Dream of Spring will take as long as Winds is taking? idk if I have another decade in me lol

I doubt it.

Maybe this is the optimist in me, but personally, I think it makes sense that TWOW has taken so long, and I’ve never felt that GRRM will never finish the series or has in any way given up on it.

Consider that, when ADWD came out on July 12th, 2011, a lot had happened. The TV adaption that will not be named started airing in April, 2011. GRRM was involved in a lot of writing, legal work, planning, public events, advertising, etc. Even if he stepped back, that’s a ton of work; just thinking about it exhausts me. Cranking out a chapter a week while all that’s going on? That’s a lot to ask, especially right after the last book was published.

I think, given the circumstances, his writing on TWOW was considerably (and understandably) slowed. Probably limited to some scattered scenes (not everyone writes in chronological order), outlining, and work-shopping. If you’ve read speculation or theory posts, you’ll know that there’s a lot slated to go down in this book--and that there’s a lot left dangling by ADWD. Mostly, I’m talking about battle scenes, which might be fun and exciting, but they’re also a pain in the ass to write. Besides, it’s even confirmed that GRRM moved some Dance chapters to Winds. The organization alone could have changed or been reworked, and while that’s normal, it takes extra time.

Further, GRRM was a writer on the TV adaption as well. It’s not a stretch to say that he probably really, really wanted the show to be good, so he invested extra time and energy into it--even more than he might have if it was a different series.

Add into this his additional projects, cons, public appearances, and the fact that no one should be dedicated to labor 24/7, and that’s a lot of time added up. I think GRRM worked on Winds when he could and when that bolt of inspiration suddenly hit. The writing process is weird; it could include rewriting chapters, reorganizing them, switching planned POVs, sludging through exposition, cranking out 5000 words in a day, going back to edit, saying “fuck it” and plowing ahead, coming up with new ideas, having to scrap old ideas, etc. Writing is fucking weird, guys.

And no matter how professional or experienced, writers are still people. They have social lives to varying degrees. They get sick. Tired. Distracted. They procrastinate. They takes breaks and watch a movie. Work on other things. Go through burnout. So on and so forth.

Hell, GRRM might even have taken a well-deserved break after ADWD was published. That was a monster of a book, and he had the show to consider as well. Everything around TWOW’s waiting period was basically engineered to make it take longer.

It’s a little different for ADOS. GRRM is no longer working on the show--and, personally, I think the show was probably a massive drain on energy, even after Martin stopped helping write it. GRRM is involved in some of the planned prequels, and I don’t think his real life will suddenly go on hold. But I doubt he’s going into his other projects with the same mindset as before, and probably very different (lowered) expectations. According to his blog posts, his progress on Winds is already picking up. Like I said: the writing process is weird.

Finally, Dream is the last book, and probably includes some (if not most) of the scenes GRRM wants to write in this series. That’s exciting! Being almost done with a project, especially one like this, is exhilarating. And we can never discount spite as a motivator.

Even with everything else in place, I think the absence of the show, and the fact that this is the Big Finish of ASOIAF, will be huge inspirations. I don’t think ADOS will be written in the span of three years, exactly, but I don’t think it will take a decade either. A thousand-page book takes time, but I’m not worried; GRRM’s done this a few times before, and I think he’ll be just fine doing it again.

[arbitrarilymine]

Tuesday, 04.06.2019, 22:24

Liking something can be such a huge motivation. And such a big motivating factor to just learn and do things. Like -

Because I like dolls, I:

Figured out, at the age of 15, how to buy things online without a bank account or credit or debit card. (The answer is, buy through group orders, or someone else doing the order, and request to pay in cash.) But also, when I did get a bank account (and still no card), I figured out how to get paypal (properly, not the fake your age method), and how to buy things and get them shipped to me without my parents knowing (send it to a friend)

Figured out how to do faceups with online forum tutorials. Back then, photo and text explanations were the norm, video tutorials weren’t really a thing. But anyway, a totally new skill picked up. It’s helpful to have drawn alot before this, but still, pastel and painting were new grounds for me.

Figured out what a respirator is, why it matters, and how to use it properly

Figured out a way to manage my expenses (done on excel) even though back then it was just doll related

Figured out how to sew because I didn’t have the money to buy them clothes. Figured out how to make patterns even though I’m still not really sure how to do it. Also learnt how to use the sewing machine from my mum though I’m not that good at it.

Figured out how to sand and mod a doll. Sanding from rough to smooth grit, what to use, how to sand with water so I don’t get so much dust

Figured out how to remove faceups using isopropyl alcohol and acetone, and where to find such stuff in Singapore

Learnt how to take photos, decided to learn more using a DSLR

Figured out how to use photoshop to edit photos and the effects in it way before I did started doing Architecture

Started making videos on youtube because I wanted more doll videos

Figured out how to cut wigs, furwigs and fibre wigs alike, to make the hairstyles I wanted my OCs to have

Figured out how to make costume jewelry for dolls, with simple tools bought off the shelf

Because I like Kpop (Infinite, Monsta X, Block B, Exo...), I:

Figured out how to make gifs in one day using online tutorials (already had photoshop skills then, which helped)

Started writing fanfic and now I have 4 years of fanfic written (a total 82 works, 453491 words published online, and there’s more in my drafts)

Through fanfic, learnt how to make stories that are appealing, did alot of research on tropes, different genres of story, different ways of story telling (kishotenketsu aka plot without conflict, which is different from the usual western way of plot with a distinct conflict etc). I figured out that I like slice of life alot for it’s mundane-ness, but also vampire fics alot. And that any sort of relationship with imbalances in power dynamics is not my jam. What I like and what I like to read have similarities but don’t overlap exactly. I also learn what polyamorous relationships are and generally a lot of lgbtq+ relationship dynamics and things that I don’t really get in traditional media

Made a ficfest with two online (Singaporean) fans for Infinite to encourage people to write more fics. Sure, we weren’t very successful but we tried really hard and we did this for almost a year, got a few authors to write a few stories, and we ourselves made over 50 moodboards for inspiration

Started looking at exercise as something positive, like, if the people I like enjoy exercising so much, and talk about its benefits, maybe there’s something in it for me. The biggest inspiration was Wonho who went from scrawny kid to buff dude but like, still remained really kind-hearted and soft and just, this whole combination wasn’t something I really learned to value from the way I was brought up, but it was an attitude I really admire regardless. And I learnt that I have the capacity to be moved by things like this, and to also adjust the biases or inherent assumptions I have

Did alot of research on BDSM and kinks and a lot of non-traditional things that I think I was always interested to know about and felt okay about actually reading up and knowing and writing and reading and discussing such things in a community of writers who did similar stuff. And realised there’s so much more in the dynamics behind these kinks, why people have them, how people can engage in them safely, what are safe practices and good practices, and just, having that knowledge also brings with it a better awareness of how similar power dynamics affect normal (unkinky) relationships

In a similar train of thought, to reserve judgement when I see people write or know or whatever certain things, because you can know something, write it, but not necessarily be agreeble to it (that’s why warning tags agree. It conveys self-awareness without telling the writer, no, you can’t write about this touchy taboo topic)

Learnt how to think horizontally when writing fics

Learnt how to get a beta to read my fics, or even why test readers (and cheerleaders) are important in a project like writing a fic. It’s my name on that fic but it’s with the help of alot of people sometimes, and that’s also why community matters

Thought about fandom, private spaces in online spheres and also constructive critique and non-constructive criticism and feedback on creative work

Read up on copyright laws, both for image use for moodboards, fanart and fanfic rights and ownership and whether one can make money off of it

Because I liked piercings, I:

Did research on how to get them safely, so so much research. From videos, from articles. Trying to figure out what’s credible, what’s not

Got piercings, also realised how biased I can be when someone has piercings. It’s a positive bias and completely groundless, like I see someone with piercings, it’s like +2 impression points or something, like I don’t know why. But it’s definitely something I should be aware of because of how seemingly groundless it is

Because I like unnaturally coloured hair, I:

Learnt how to bleach my hair with youtube tutorials and articles and learnt the dangers of doing so before I did it

Learnt how to dye my hair myself, how to transition between shades of cool and warm colours

Experimented and figured out the rest by actually dyeing my hair, enlisting the help of dorm mates

Learnt that purple is a colour that never shows up on my hair, maybe unless I bleach my hair to almost white

Learnt that I am/behave like a slightly different person with a different hair colour, and that such things affect not just my mood but how I perceive myself. And unnatural hair colours make me feel fun, but more importantly, that I can have them means I have time for myself (to dye my hair and to maintain it), and that kind of mindset is something I miss right now with my natural hair colour

Learnt that I am more open to change and okay with people talking about my hair than I thought, and that it’s fun to keep changing, but also maybe necessary for my psyche, to avoid feeling stagnant and boring

Because I like Peppertones, I:

Set up a tumblr and a blog for them in a day (helped that I’ve had a blogspot and tumblr account for ages before for other things)

Figured out a way to translate Korean songs to English even though my Korean is really really really basic. Like I can read Hangul, I can understand some words, but I can’t really write properly sentences by myself. But despite this, I wanted to know what their song lyrics are so much that I figured that I can use my ability to check a dictionary, my ability to read Chinese (so many things have Chinese translations compared to English), my cross referencing skills, and my Sec 2 literature inference skills to translate their songs despite my language incompetency. And so far I’ve modified 2.5 songs (i.e. added onto existing English translations to make it more accurate) and properly translated 1.5 songs with Chinese lyrics for reference. And there’s more songs in my drafts.

Figured out how to navigate Naver with mostly ctrl-c and ctrl-v of keywords

Compiled playlists of their live performances by individual songs, and created masterlists of their appearances and performances

Looked into Search Engine Optimisation to see how my peppertones blog can be more searchable for people like me who wanted translations of their songs, realising that blogspot is way more indexable than tumblr and finally understanding after so many years why my blogspot doll blog would show up on google image searches while my tumblr never really did

What I’m saying is, like things. Love things. Let your heart do what it wants. And then let these serve as your spark, your driver, and your direction (if for a little while). Let them inspire you, let them bring you to action, and let them remind you a little of why life is worth living. So much of this is not necessarily apparent at first glance because a lot of times, what we like may seem so trivial and trite and pointless, but the energy it offers can be so much more. I’ve learnt and picked up so many things along the way because I liked something so much that I HAD to learn something to do what I wanted to, and I cobbled my way to learning it with whatever available skills I have, and to research the heck out of whatever I didn’t know. And that is such a valuable lesson. 

I got a bit caught up in the details while listing some of the things above, but I just wanted to write down what I could before I forget. Obviously if we want to assess, some of these skills are probably more valuable than others. But the point is, all these are things and skills and abilities and learning experiences that can be picked up, and built upon, and they don’t exist in isolation. And maybe the tiny pieces don’t make particularly good sense at this moment, nor do they seem particularly useful, but like leaves falling, over time they’ll make a pile, and if you like something enough, that’s going to be a big pile of leaves, and it’s up to you what you want to do with that.

Me? I’m going to make a bed to lie on with that pile of leaves with my mediocre sewing skills and listen to all the songs I like.

[outtacommission]

anon said: YESS MATT IS HERE AND I'M GIDDY AND HAPPY but as for a prompt what if when Pidge found him in that place he was in, he was actually pretty sick? So she has to defend him or help him get better or just keep him from getting worse while she takes him back to the castle?

words: 4.5k

i actually hate this but it got so long and i finally cut it off so i’m gonna post it. i’m so sorry i go so long without posting fic and when i finally do it’s this shit, but i hope you enjoy regardless. i loved the prompt! the fic just...didn’t happen the way i wanted it to. ah, well. 

EDIT: here’s the Ao3 link in case anyone prefers that!

“This must be some kind of spy facility,” Pidge mutters, eyes taking in the geometric patterns and fluctuating levels of an unfamiliar orange-tinted screen.

There isn’t any more time to decipher what the data could mean, though, as pounding footsteps suddenly approach and a masked figure reflected in the screen flings itself directly towards her.

With a gasp of surprise, Pidge rolls away just in time to dodge a spinning staff that the figure swipes at her. She’s on her feet again in less than a second, sprinting for a column and launching herself backwards off of it with a boost from her jetpack. She’s aware of her pursuer coming after her again, swinging the staff with skill, but they seem…a bit slow. She should be able to take care of them without much trouble.

As she descends to the floor and the figure spins to face her, she throws out her whip. Her enemy blocks it with their staff, wrapping the cord around it and pulling her to the ground. They charge again, stabbing the butt of their weapon straight down at her chest, and with more force she’s sure it would have been a powerful move. But their movements seem strangely sluggish and weak, like they don’t have enough energy to put the force needed behind them to make them especially threatening. Maybe she caught them while they’re tired.

She rolls away again and the figure towers over her, raising the staff above their head with two hands. Pidge is sure she sees their arms shaking.

“What have you done with my brother?!” she yells.

They hesitate at the question. Pidge doesn’t think; she takes advantage of the moment and flings her whip at the masked head, hitting them squarely in the face and earning a pained grunt. The mask goes flying and the person falls to their knees. Bayard reverting to the katar, she launches herself at them again, aiming a powerful swing directly at the head.

And then they turn, and Pidge sees their face for the first time.

Matt.

Somehow she stops her momentum. Somehow the sight of wide, familiar eyes freezes her in place.

It’s… It’s Matt.

It doesn’t seem real. For so long, years, she’s dreamed of seeing his face again. And now it’s…he’s right in front of her and it doesn’t seem real. Honey brown eyes, pale skin marred by a long, thin scar, wheat-colored hair that’s longer and limper than she remembers but it’s still… Oh, god, it’s him.

It’s him. He’s alive, he’s here. I found him.

He’s looking at her with an expression that probably mirrors her own. Eyes wide, mouth agape, chest heaving with labored breaths, disbelief coloring every feature.

“Pidge…?” he whispers hoarsely, like he hardly dares to believe it.

“Matt?” she echoes.

He stands, slowly and with difficulty, stumbling a bit, and she can’t take her eyes off of him. Likewise, he doesn’t seem to be able to look away from her, either. For a few long moments, she stares at him and he stares right back.

And then it’s like they reach the same conclusion at the same time. His face crumples with emotion as tears gather in her own eyes, and they’re falling into each other’s arms.

Pidge weeps. He’s warm and solid beneath her arms, tangible and real and so very alive. His ribcage hitches with sobs and any minute she expects to wake up and find this is a dream. She’s had this dream so many times. But she’s never been able to feel this much, to touch the gritty fabric of his clothes or smell the sweat and faint mustiness emanating from him. His voice has never been this clear and perfect.

She found him. He’s here. He’s here.

She squeezes her eyes shut and tears pour down her cheeks in rivulets. “Oh my gosh,” she gasps. “Ever since the Kerberos mission… They said you were dead, but I knew in my heart that you weren’t.”

His arms tighten around her shoulder. “I can’t believe you found me,” he says, and his voice is the most wonderful thing she’s ever heard. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

He pulls back then, hands coming up to touch the sides of her helmet. He smiles—he smiles—the brightest, sweetest smile she’s ever seen, even as his own tears pour down his face.

She can’t help but return it. “The thought of you and Dad kept me going, inspired me to do the impossible.”

“Okay,” he says with a bit of a laugh, hands moving down to her shoulders. “But seriously, how’d you’d get this far into space?”

“It’s a long story,” she says, ducking her head. She opens her mouth to say more, but then Matt coughs.

And he keeps coughing. It seems like he’s trying to suppress them, but they still sound wet and painful. A hand comes up to cover his mouth and his face screws up as if he’s in pain, and he begins to sink to the floor.

“Matt?” Pidge braces her hands on his shoulders and tries to support him as they both kneel on the ground.

The coughing passes after a few more moments and suddenly he looks so tired—exhausted. And she realizes now that those slow, sluggish movements she’d noticed (and planned to take advantage of) during the brief fight were Matt’s slow, sluggish movements. And that’s…probably not normal.

Something is wrong with him.

She hadn’t noticed before, but now that the rush of disbelief and overwhelming joy from their reunion is wearing off, it’s obvious just how not okay her brother is. His eyes are bloodshot and glazed over, ringed with deep fatigue. His entire expression is a bit dazed, and now that she’s really looking, his cheeks seem too flushed. He looks pretty terrible.

And he’s shaking. Full-body, head-to-toe trembling.

Concern quickly begins to override the multitude of other emotions currently filling her. “Matt? Are you okay?”

For a moment, he looks surprised at the question. “Huh?” Then, slowly, he lifts a hand up and stares as it trembles, like he’ll find the answer in his open palm. “Oh. I’m…” Another cough rips through him and he rubs at his eyes. “I’m just a little under the weather right now. I’m okay, though, don’t worry.”

Pidge’s brows draw together. She reaches up to move his bangs aside and can feel unnatural heat through the fabric. “Oh, you’re burning up,” she says, cupping his face in both hands.

She’s pulling up her wrist monitor, intending to scan him for viruses, but he stops her with one hand. “I think it’s Ryskan fever.” His voice is so ragged, so weary. “It’ll suck for a little while, but it’s not dangerous.”

“Are you sure?” She searches his face intently for evidence of the contrary.

“Yeah.” He smiles, but it isn’t particularly reassuring.  

“What a touching reunion,” a deep, gravelly voice says from the shadows.

Pidge and Matt both jump and spin to face the direction it came from, nerves suddenly alight.

“Who are you?” Pidge demands, summoning her bayard from her armor.

There’s a dark, menacing figure shrouded in the darkness of the tall room. While Pidge can’t decipher any features, he’s obviously big and most likely powerful. She’s not intimidated. She can’t afford to be now—Matt is here, and he needs her protection.

“Who I am is not important,” the stranger says. “I am here to collect the bounty on your brother Matt. But a paladin of Voltron and the Green Lion? What a day.”

Pidge drops into a fighting stance. “Stand back, Matt.”

But Matt, once again, mirrors her perfectly, readying his staff and saying, “Stand back, Pidge,” at the exact same moment.

She looks at him in surprise for a mere second before hardening her gaze into a glare. “No, I’ll take care of this. Get somewhere safe.”

He blinks. “But—”

“It’s not up for debate!” she yells. “You’re in no condition to fight right now, so let me handle this! I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He must see the resolve in her eyes—either that or he must be really be feeling awful, because after a brief hesitation, he nods reluctantly and lowers his staff. God, he looks so tired.

Her focus is ripped away from him quickly as the bounty hunter growls and charges forward, flinging off his cloak to reveal a muscled, reptilian body and two whips sparking with purple electricity.  

Pidge activates her jetpack and leaps into the air as the weapons come slinging towards her. She immediately slings her own bayard back towards him, but he narrowly dodges it. She’s hoping this will be a quick fight, but this guy looks tough, and he wields those whips with enough skill for her to know he’s had a lot of practice. She’s going to have to think her way around this one.

As she descends back to the ground, bolts of agony suddenly light up every nerve and her body convulses. She screams without meaning to, and gravity slams her to the ground as her jetpacks gives out.

For a moment, she can’t get up. Her muscles ache and twitch with the residual electricity and it takes a while before she can push herself up on trembling arms. She grunts with frustration; she has to get up, has to protect Matt. He’s weak and vulnerable and—

“Stay away from my sister!”

She freezes. Oh, please don’t tell me…

When she looks over her shoulder and sees a cloaked figure stumbling towards the bounty hunter, dread fills her stomach. “Matt, stop!”

But of course he doesn’t. He charges right in like he doesn’t care what happens to him. He probably doesn’t. He’s probably in the same mindset she is—to protect family at all costs.

As he swings his staff down, the hunter spins his whips effortlessly to create a shield, and Matt’s weapon glances right off. “You’re both worth more to me alive, but I’ll take something over nothing,” he growls.

The whips come up again and he flings them forward with impressive strength. Pidge watches in horror as they both wrap around Matt’s shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides, and electricity courses through his thin body like lightning.

Pidge won’t soon forget the scream that comes from his mouth.

With a growl, she finally gets to her feet and shoots her bayard at the lizard-like alien with renewed strength. Matt’s down; she can see his limp body on the floor in the corner of her eye, and this time, she won’t let this guy have another chance to touch him.

Her bayard lodges itself exactly where she wanted it to—in a beam on the other side of the room. As the alien turns to smirk at her for what he probably thinks is a mistake on her part, she uses the grappling line to propel herself at him feet-first. She lands a solid kick to his head, and swings herself up onto a low beam.

He takes a moment to recover, and growls again. “You’ll have to do better than that!” His whip wraps around a beam and suddenly he’s joining her in the rafters. He charges her again, and it quickly becomes apparent just how much stronger he is. She’s agile enough that she’s not overpowered, but his blows are too forceful for her to withstand much of.

One particularly powerful flick of his whips sends her toppling off of the beam, plummeting to the ground below. She’s able to activate her jetpack and prevent the impact, but the bounty hunter is right on her tail. She sprints away from him, mind racing frantically for a solution to this battle. She can’t overpower him, but maybe there’s some way his electric whips can be used against him.

As if reading her mind, Matt’s raspy voice suddenly calls out, “Pidge! The panel!”

She knows what he’s talking about immediately. Without even blinking, she reaches out to rip off the cover of a panel in the wall as she passes it. And no sooner has she removed it than the hunter’s whip comes lashing out and snags on the uncovered machinery.

“What?!” he roars, yanking on it unsuccessfully.

“Hey!” Matt yells from the other side of the room.

Once again, Pidge can only watch helplessly as her brother comes running right into the fight. She doesn’t have time to react before the alien is flinging his free whip at him. He’s able to duck out of the way, and the whip wraps itself around a metal pillar instead. He jams his staff into the ground, pulls it back with strength Pidge didn’t think he still possessed, and lets it go. It collides with the line of the whip, and the bounty hunter yells as he’s electrocuted, crackling bolts jumping over his body.

Pidge seizes the moment. She hurls herself at him, pulls back her bayard, and throws the hardest punch of her life. It’s enough force to send the hunter flying back, and he lands on the ground, unconscious.

She doesn’t move from her position for a few moments, just stands and tries to catch her breath.

It’s over. They’re safe, for the moment.

And then Matt groans, staggers, and falls to his knees.

“Matt!” Pidge grabs his shoulders to stabilize him before he slumps over. “Are you okay?”

He coughs harshly, a wet crackling sounding in his lungs, and pushes his knuckles into his eyes again. “…Relatively.”

She glowers. “I told you to stay out of the fight. You said you’d stay out of it.”

“You were in trouble. He hurt you; I couldn’t stand by and watch.”

Pidge opens her mouth to scold him again for scaring her, for acting so recklessly when they’d only just found each other after so long, but something stops her. She isn’t in a place to berate him for this, because she would have done exactly the same thing in his position. Plus, there are more important things to worry about right now.

“You haven’t changed,” she says. “You’re still an idiot.”

Matt laughs a little, which then turns into another bout of coughing. He doubles over and presses a hand to his chest, groaning. “You might have a point.”

Pidge frowns. “We need to get you out of here.” She pulls his arm over her shoulders and they stand slowly.

Matt sways. “I can’t just—I can’t just leave. I have a job here.”

“Are you nuts? You can’t work right now, Matt. You’re coming with me.”

He doesn’t protest any further as she leads him out, and she doesn’t know if it’s because he knows she’s right or if he’s just too out of it to say anything more.

He leans on her heavily as they make their way to the exit, and though he’s wearing what seems to be several layers of clothes, she swears she can feel the heat of his fever through them. A glance at his face shows that he’s sweating a lot, too.

A strange mix of emotions swirl within her. She’s still stunned that she’s found him—after almost two years of vague leads and dead ends and tracking and decoding and what felt like endless searching, it’s actually all paid off. She’s sure she’ll spend a long time just staring at him, ensuring that he’s actually still here.

Then there’s the fear that stems out of that disbelief. He’s here, but for how long? He said his illness isn’t serious, but his appearance says otherwise. Memories of being four years old and taking midnight trips to the hospital because Matt had gotten violently and unexpectedly sick flash through her mind, even though she hasn’t thought about those times in years. He hadn’t exactly been the healthiest boy when they were children, and although his immune system is up to par now, Pidge can’t help the dread that chills her breast at seeing him like this, especially after they’ve been separated for so long.

But there’s relief and determination, too. Matt is with her now. She can take care of him. She can make sure he’s okay. And that’s exactly what she’s going to do.

—

He’s quiet on the trip back in the Green Lion. He’d ogled a little bit when she’d first brought him to where it was parked on the outskirts of town (cloaked, of course), but nowhere near as much as he would have if his brain wasn’t fogged up by fever. She resolves to show him around it properly when he’s well. For now, she mostly just listens to him cough from his spot on the floor near the accelerator chair.

When the Lion lands and the hatch opens, the team converges around the entrance with hopeful smiles on their faces. She’s glad to be back with them, and gladder still that, this time, she can give them good news.

Well, not quite as good as she hoped. Matt’s condition is inexplicably deteriorating at a concerning pace, though Pidge suspects it has something to do with the fact that he obviously overexerted himself in the fight on top of getting electrocuted. He’s slumped against the wall, shivering in his cloak. Sweat dots his brow and a look of discomfort mars his face.

“Matt,” Pidge prompts softly. “We’re here. Wake up.”

His brow furrows, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Huh…?”

“We’re at the Castle of Lions. Let’s get you in bed, okay? Can you stand?”

He blinks heavily several times before her words seem to register. “Ah, yeah.” Then he pulls in a sharp breath and presses his palms into his eyes.

Panic rolls through Pidge’s stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“My eyes.”

“Your eyes?”

“Hurt.”

She pulls his hands away from his face. “Open them?”

He squints through a heavy grimace and she can just barely see how red and irritated they look, even more so than before.

Her anxiety ramps up another few notches. “We need to get to the infirmary, now.”

It takes several tries, but she helps Matt rise slowly from the floor and steadies him with an arm around his waist. He coughs violently as they make their way down the ramp, entire body hitching with the force. He sags against her bonelessly and it takes considerable effort on her part to keep him upright.

Everyone is waiting when they finally emerge. The mice run to greet her but she’s regrettably too preoccupied to greet them back. She gives her team a sad smile. “Hey, everybody.”

The sight of her practically carrying an unfamiliar body out of her Lion predictably makes them all pull up short with surprise. Their smiles disappear and are replaced with alarm.

“Pidge? Who is this?” Allura asks.

“My brother. Matt.” She adjusts her grip on him as he slips a little further. She’s too small for this. “Look, I’ll explain everything later, but he needs help.”

Towards the back of the group, there’s a soft murmured, “Matt?” and then Shiro is pushing his way past Allura and Coran, a look of hope and concern on his face. He hesitates only a second before rushing to them and pulling Matt’s weight from her, effortlessly scooping him into his arms. He studies Matt’s face briefly before turning his worried gaze to Pidge. “You found him.”  

She nods.

Shiro looks like he’s struggling to believe it, to come to terms with the fact that he’s holding his long-lost friend in his arms, but it’s not a moment before his mouth forms a straight, determined line. “Let’s get to the infirmary.”

—

No one asks for the story until Matt’s settled in a bed and his vitals are being monitored.

“It does appear to be Ryskan fever,” Coran muses as his eyes scan the data.

“What is that?” Shiro asks, deep concern on his features. “Is it dangerous?”

“Not particularly, no.” He flicks through a few screens. “It’s a fairly common disease that manifests slightly differently in varying species. Unfortunately, from Matt’s case it seems to be more severe in human beings, but this is the first time I’ve seen it afflict one. It’s similar in Alteans, though not usually quite this debilitating—annoying, more than anything. But he’s displaying the same symptoms. It will probably take a while to recover from, but in a couple Spicolian movements he should be over the worst of it. Luckily, we have some medicine for it that can be administered through an injection.”

Pidge releases a long, noisy breath.

Coran gives her a reassuring smile. “He’s going to be just fine, with a lot of rest. Don’t you worry.”

“Thanks, Coran.”

They move away from the bed, and she tells them what happened at the rebel base. She doesn’t mention the graveyard—yet, anyway. It’s probably information they’ll want to know at some point, but her emotions are still raw and that’s really not something she wants to revisit at the moment. Especially not with Matt lying unconscious in the infirmary. For now, she recounts the fight with the bounty hunter and all she’s learned about the freedom fighters. The rest can come after Matt’s recovered.

“You did a great job, Pidge,” Shiro says. “I’m proud of you.”

She nods. “I’ll feel better about it once he’s better.”

“Me too.” There’s a vague wistfulness to Shiro’s face and voice, enough to make Pidge wonder what he’s thinking about.

They haven’t talked about Matt a lot together—she knows Shiro’s missed him, but now she’s wondering exactly how close they’d been before the abduction. He seems more shaken up about seeing her brother again than she would have expected.

“Pidge?” Hunk says cheerily. “Are you hungry? I was about to start dinner before you got here.”

She smiles softly. “Thanks, Hunk. But I think I’m gonna stay here for a little while.”

“I’ll bring you something, then,” he says with a light pat on her shoulder.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Lance says, more solemn than usual, before following Hunk out the door.

“Coran and I had better get the castle ready to move again, now that we’re finishing up here,” Allura says.

“Right,” Coran adds. “But I’ll be back here in a tick if you need me for any reason at all. Okay?”

“Okay.” Pidge gives him a smile too. “Thanks.”

Once they’re gone, she’s alone with only Shiro and her comatose brother. She releases a heavy sigh and sinks down in a chair next to Matt’s cot, suddenly extremely tired.

“Are you alright?” Shiro asks in his fatherly tone.

“Yeah. Just exhausted.”

“I think you should try to get some rest. Matt will be okay for a while.”

She shakes her head emphatically. Leaving Matt’s side right now is absolutely unthinkable. “I just got him back. I’m not going anywhere.”

Shiro huffs a breath out through his nose. “Okay. I won’t ask you to, then. But you need to take care of yourself too, alright?”

She folds her arms on the side of the bed and rests her chin on them. “Mhm.”

He briefly places a hand on her head. “I’ll come back to check on you in a little while.”

When the door slides shut behind him, Pidge’s thoughts become loud in the abrupt silence. She’s drained and weary from the rollercoaster she’d just been on, but her emotions have yet to settle. She won’t feel any kind of peace until she can talk to Matt about…well, everything. Where he’s been, what he’s been doing, if he knows anything about Sam. She wants him to know about what she’s been doing too. She wants to show him the castle, her Lion.

That will have to wait a while, though. Mostly she just wants him to get better.

For a while, she watches him sleep. He looks so much older, so worn and weary, but maybe that’s just the illness. She’d stripped him of his cloak and armor, leaving him in only the thin tunic and pants he was wearing underneath, and Coran had placed a strip of cooling fabric on his forehead to soothe the fever.

But without anyone to talk to, the exhaustion eventually overpowers the lingering onslaught of emotion. When sleep comes, she doesn’t fight it.

—

“Pidge?”

She feels warm. Secure. Doesn’t want to move.

“Pidge.”

When she feels herself begin to move out of sleep, she groans and nuzzles her face deeper into her arms. She’s not ready to wake up.

“Katie.”

That…isn’t normal. No one calls her Katie, ever. The only one who even knows that name is Shiro, and that’s definitely not Shiro’s voice. That means…

Her head flies up, glasses askew on her nose. “Matt?”

He’s awake. The cooling strip is gone from his brow, and he’s looking at her through groggy eyes, heavily-lidded and still bloodshot.

Pidge leans in closer. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“I—” He breaks off into a coughing fit, his whole body straining under the force. “I’ve been better.”

She frowns and presses the back of her hand to his sweaty forehead. “I think that’s an understatement. You’re still burning.”

He falls back against the pillow with a groan. “S’alright, this…this doesn’t last long. I knew a guy who had it once and it didn’t…last long.”

“Uh…about that.” When Matt looks at her curiously, she averts her gaze. “Coran—our advisor—says it looks like Ryskan fever is more severe in humans compared to other species. He says it’s likely that it’ll take you a while to get over it.”

Confusion spreads over Matt’s face for a second before he closes his eyes and sighs wearily. “Figures.”

“But you’ll be okay,” she’s quick to add, taking his hand. “You’re with us now. I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Yeah.” He smiles shakily. “I’m so…so happy to see you, Pidge.”

That wave of emotions swells in her throat again and she desperately tries not to tear up. “I’m happy to see you too. You have no idea. I’ve been searching for you for so long.”

He makes a happy noise. “You always could be stubborn when you wanted t’be.”

She laughs. “Now we just gotta find Dad.”

“Right.” Matt closes his eyes again, looking ready to fall back asleep. Pidge is prepared to let him, maybe go see about the dinner Hunk mentioned, but a second later Matt’s eyes reopen. “Hey…am I delusional or…or was Shiro here earlier?”

Pidge grins. “Yeah, that was real. He’s here.”

Now the confusion’s back. “Wh…why? Why’s he here…?”

“He’s a paladin of Voltron, too. He’s worried about you.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll tell you all about it when you’re better.” She pats his shoulder. “For now, get some sleep.”

Matt’s eyes are closed once more. “Mhm.”

“I love you, Matt.”

He’s already asleep.

She’ll tell him again when he’s coherent. She’ll tell him over and over and over. For now, she bends over and presses a kiss to his forehead, then finally leaves in search of a much needed dinner.

[orbyssarchives]

A Brief tl;dr

This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and I know I can be fairly long-winded so if you just wanna skip ahead and click through the pictures I’ve put up, I understand.

The TL;DR is

Hello and welcome to Mage Punk Archives! My name is Tables and this is some of the work that I’ve done over the last few years and what I’ve been up to in my little corner of the world. This is the third and last of a series of posts, outlining a number of updates that I completed on the site.

Included are some of my inspirations and a little of what I’ve learned so far about myself as an ever growing artist up to this point.

After this, I want to keep the content more focused on the actual art and story.

  I’ll post to this site as often as I am able.

    Thanks for reading!

  ***

Long Ago, Before the miracle of handheld internet searches and Instagram

When I was but a young, internet webling, I was heavily into shitty online flash games and looking for anything even remotely related to my interests at the time. From Mario and Sonic to various comics, videos games, anime and things never to be said aloud (pornpornporn). My love of the likes of Super Mario Bros and Sonic the Hedgehog (big fandoms for me at the time) would later lead me to sprite comics. Today, my feelings for the little hodge podge collage strips of old video game sprite sheets and backgrounds are a little mixed.

(They were beautiful and I’m gonna make one someday)

Then, in Highschool, I took a basic Web Design class. It was a VVoid World Web of Notepad and Internet Explorer where a kindly old crone passed on to those of us there, some knowledge of the ancient runic language which forms the foundations of the World Wide Web: HTML. Tables, frames, css, oh my! This knowledge would eventually prove invaluable.

Throughout our studies we were occasionally allowed to venture out into the Wider World Web. It was during these little adventures and travels across the Web that I happened upon the magical land of Webcomics. It was also during this time that I began break free of the enchantment of sprites. Even though I would probably never return to them, they would always hold a special place in my heart.

  The Internet is for [Comics]

    Webcomics – Synonymous with “Masochism”

At first, I had no idea just how grueling webcomics could be. Most webcomic artists pump out pages one to three times a week. At the time I got into them, MegaTokyo, then still partially a video game webcomic, was just releasing its third printed book; 2-3 updates a week with a loosely set schedule. Evan Dahm was wrapping up his surreal fantasy epic, Rice Boy; with updates consistently going up Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The various sprite and drawn webcomics that I was following at the time were updating all the time. Seeing all the great work going up, I felt encouraged to try it myself.

I drew these closer to the end of my junior year of high school.

Desu

Taking major inspiration from a lot of the manga and anime that I was enjoying then, I used pen and ink to make my comic pages. I liked working in black and white because it felt direct and skipping on color made it easier to finish faster. I figured I could work faster if I didn’t have to worry about the extra step. When I did want to use color, as is typical for the early pages of a new manga, I used markers.

At the time, I had no idea that mangakas used assistants. That’s messed up.

Not to say that it was completely unrealistic, but back in the real world I could only average one black and white page a week. If even. The spider webs I was drawing all over were so that I wouldn’t have to use a ruler to draw my panel proper borders. I thought it gave the comic an “old archive”. In the end, I concluded that the spider webs should have their place and not be all over.

This time, I decided to work a little more carefully and deliberately.

  Moving Forward

It was going pretty well but by the time page 7 rolled around, it was time for midterms and I had become too self-conscious and uncomfortable with the way I was drawing my comic pages then. Then, it was time to take finishing high school seriously and before I knew it, I was a freshman at The Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I did a lot of growing in the next four years that I attended there. Unfortunately, I never revisited those pages. Instead, near the end of my sophomore year, I took a Sequential Art class where the Final was a full-color, 5-page comic.

These are the ink-wash versions of the 7-page Final that I submitted. I’d originally colored them digitally to meet project requirements but I don’t want to post those just yet..

  In the End

I wasn’t satisfied. The truth was that I waited until the last minute, rushed it, and over-reached on a re-draw that wasn’t much fun for me to work on. During the course of that Sequential Art class my professor turned my attention to artists like Moebius and Mike Mignola. I also came across Katsuya Terada’s stuff around this time.

  And school went on…

    I worked on Mage Punk when I could between assignments.

    Between thinking I could possibly work on a for-print comic…

    …and a webcomic at the same time.

  The End was Near

Most of these were actually made towards the end of my four years at Ai. Those of us graduating were tasked with compiling our work from the years past in accordance with the requirements for obtaining our degrees. I believe that we were given two semesters to gather our pieces and do any revisions to previous works to get them up to date with the rest of the portfolio piece. Illustration Graduates at AiFL were typically required to gather a required selection of their work into an on-demand printed book. The year that I graduated, my department decided to change things around a little. Specifically, we were given the option to collect the requirement work into a plain black binder portfolio and make the printed book more geared towards our pursuits. I opted to make a Mage Punk/Orbyss Archives “Zine” as my main portfolio piece.

  And Then College was Over

I drew a few more pages of the comic until I became employed full-time. These days, there aren’t enough free hours in my days for me to keep up with any typical webcomic’s update schedule so for a long while I stopped working on the comic altogether. I’m squeezing as much work out of every second that I’m not there; with whatever energy I can muster. This includes planning, writing, sketching and drawing. Before I got back to work on the site, I was posting fairly regularly to my Twitter and Instagram; those posts took time to do as well.

  Most of this post was written in separate sessions on my commutes to work.

“Shortcuts”

Even though I always wanted to present Mage Punk as a webcomic, I always worked on it like it would go to print eventually. This created a confusing mindset for me when working on the comic, where I had to work on a whole book, but I have to rush to finish every page. If I wanted to put out pages more frequently I took shortcuts at any point I could to be done with them. Even if I created a good buffer of finished pages, I’d still run into that same pitfall eventually. I wasn’t enjoying my project because of a pressure I applied on myself to finish it in a way I wasn’t necessarily comfortable with. I didn’t even get that much done in the end.

It’s important that I work on it at a pace that lets me show the best of my ability. I would love it if I could be properly finished with the pages before I post them but if I wait before it’s all good and done I’ll just never get around to posting anything, forever floating, aimlessly, throughout creative internet limbo.

Instead, if I have to work on my comic in piecemeal, I’ll just post it up in piecemeal. Mage Punk will still be presented as a webcomic but, until the end of the book is done, certain changes are still a possibility. Editing is an important part of producing any book and I’m going to make its presentation reflect that.

  Cue Rhidiculous shouting “I told you so!” from some nearby bushes.

  A Webcomic in Presentation Only?

Those Two Images are the Same Page

Instead of trying to finish things at breakneck speeds, I’m going to work on the comics at a more reasonable pace. I’ll try to work on it mainly Chapter to chapter instead of page to page like how a webcomic normally is done (buffers aside) This gives me the opportunity to take a step back and get a broader look at the story while still putting out content in enjoyable chunks.

It’s difficult for me to wrap my head around drawing a comic on a start-to-finish, page-by-page basis. While I was working on the later pages in the chapter I kept finding myself jumping around and making changes to previous pages to make some things more consistent with later parts of the story. Instead of working page-by-page, I was editing the chapter as a whole to try to strengthen the narrative I’m trying to tell.

To that end, I still want to present it on this site as a webcomic; if only in name and archive.

The Process

At the VERY longtime behest of my editor, I’ll be presenting the comic as a work in progress at various points in the following production stages.

Writing

I’ll post dialog excerpts here and there. Nothing that can spoil the story too much.

This step will be kept largely behind the scenes.

Thumbnails

I do these on index cards in ballpoint pen to figure out the sequence of events that I most prefer.

This is the step where I’m prone to overloading a page with information.

First Drafts

Full size roughs of the earlier thumbnails. This step helps me get a better sense of how crowded or unbalanced a page might be early on.

This step also helps to prune out any strenuous scenes or dialog that could otherwise have their own pages.

If it isn’t working visually at this point, it’s not going to work in the next step.

Pencils

This is where the real drawing happens. Drawings in this step are made by either digital or traditional means depending on when or where I’m working.

Inking

This step is exactly like the drawing step but in pen and ink. Despite my affinity for real pen and ink, I’ll mainly be working this step digitally.

Color

This step is wrought with indecision but it also one of the faster, more fun steps to do.

Lettering

I’ve removed the dialog from all the pages currently up, opting to keep that out until a chapter is completed; it’s the thing I’m likeliest to change the most frequently until the end.

All lettering is currently done digitally but I’m considering the possibility of hand lettering.

Drawing dialog can be quite fulfilling but it takes a lot of practice.

Editing

This part will be happening all throughout. Page re-orders, panel redraws, changes in dialog.

Until the book is done.

  Here We Are

I’ve already made some revisions to a handful of the pages that are already up; if you browse through the comics you can see the revisions noted in the comic descriptions. I’ll make blog posts for any major revisions or series of revisions that I do. I have a few ideas for some smaller projects that I can work on while I work on Mage Punk. Whether they be illustrations, stories, or even mini-comics like this silly thing down here.

      Moving on

I might have also mentioned before that I have a few other drawings that I wanted to make for the site. In particular I have a neat idea for some social media icon illustrations. I wanna make something that takes advantage of what I’ve learned with using CSS. It’s nothing too fancy.

All that said, future posts will be a bit more brief than these last three were. I’d much rather write and post about the work itself, but I feel like I’ve hit a personal milestone and felt the need to ramble on about it a little.

    Until next time,

  Thanks for reading!

    The Big Site Update (Part 3) A Brief tl;dr This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and 

[zingara84]

Hello!

Greetings, dear Tumblr! I haven’t been active on here in a very long time. I wanted to write this post to explain where I’ve been, what I’m working on, and what’s going on with the future of this blog.

First things first, as I referenced late-last year, I moved back to Germany. (I say “back” because I’d spent my first tentative months here back in 2014.) This time, I came with the intention of staying long-term, so I had to apply for a work permit. That process took me nearly half a year, plus another 2 months before I got an official “tax number” (something freelancers are required to have), and in between all of the appointments, portfolio-building, etc., I have also spent a LOT of time looking for housing. Berlin’s housing market is tough, and since September of last year, I haven’t spent more than about 3 months in any given place. Constant moving/apartment searching is not my preferred way to spend vast stretches of my time when I could be living my life and pursuing my passions instead, but, alas, sometimes that stuff just needs to be done.

In the middle of this process — sometime back in November — I began having very odd problems with Tumblr. It was glitching to the point that I could do practically nothing with the site. I couldn’t even log out (without an interminable freeze) to try logging back in again! If I were tech-savvy, this might not have been an issue, but I’m not, so this went on until at least sometime in December, at which point I decided, “You know what? Maybe I’m just not meant to be blogging here right now.” I took that as a sign to focus my attentions elsewhere for the time being.

At this point, I am now officially a resident of Germany, with permission to work as a freelance “Editor, Writer, und Writing Consultant.” I had to spend a lot of time building up my editing business in order to make a solid case for myself with the immigration bureau, and I mostly put writing and card reading aside while I was getting on my feet and pulling my application portfolio together. I specialize as an academic copyeditor with a strong focus also on editing creative work (e.g., personal essays, websites). You can read more about the editing I do here. As for the “Writer” bit, I haven’t branched out yet into the world of writing original pieces for pay, but writing is my dream, so hopefully I’ll be moving in that direction soon. In the mean time, since I deliver tarot readings as written reports, I am still able to offer readings. (More on my tarot readings in a moment.) And the “Writing Consultant” bit on my work permit. . . well, that’s basically just an aspect of my editing work; I blend my teaching and editing experience with insights from creative writing study in order to help clients become stronger writers themselves. I love helping people become more confident and effective communicators, as well as — when we are working together on memoir-style narratives of theirs — helping them to find a deeper sense of meaning in and appreciation for their own life stories. So, these are some of the things I am allowed to do to support myself here on this visa. If you ever need editing help, if you want a coach for writing (or personal development through writing), if you’d like a tarot reading, or if you would like to hire me to write an article, please let me know!

Back to tarot: as mentioned, I spent a long time focusing almost exclusively on building my editing business. I sometimes find it difficult to switch between the analytical mindset of academic editing and the intuitive/creative mindset of tarot reading, and since the editing work makes an easier sell with immigration officials, I prioritized that. At the same time, my life circumstances, for a while now, haven’t been very conducive to the downtime, alone time, and/or grounding work I find to be an integral part of maintaining the clear mind and peaceful heart from which I prefer to offer guidance. As I focused so intensely on basic survival/immigration concerns (e.g., finding a series of apartments, taking on sometimes-excessive hours of editing work) and on managing the anxiety that many of these challenges triggered, I decided I preferred not to make myself available for readings. I feel clearer and more centered now — as well as thankful that I don’t have any immediately pressing immigration-related needs to address — so my Etsy shop will be going back “on.”

On that note, getting settled here and grounding more fully in my inner peace are somewhat ongoing efforts, so you may see my Etsy shop going in and out of vacation mode at times. But I’ve been reading cards since I was 16 (That’s more than half my life now, wow!), and it’s something I truly love to do, so I anticipate I will just keep coming back to it. Given that I now live in Europe, on the Euro, I’ve changed my prices to Euro. However, being from the U.S.A., I’m sympathetic to the fact that the exchange rate is not always kind. I try not to make a habit of running a bargaining-based business model because I believe in charging a fair price from the get-go, but if the exchange rate is ever particularly harsh for you, feel free to ask me about minor adjustments; I’d be glad to try to find a way to work with your needs.

As for my writing, I’ve toyed with the idea of starting a new blog; I took the Tumblr glitching last year as a sign as well, perhaps, that it was time for me to seek a new platform. When I have the new blog figured out, I will gladly share it with you. It will probably have a somewhat different focus than this one took on over the years; I began this blog as an outlet for the simple fact that I love to reflect on life and write about it. I find it helpful to “practice” writing about daily life, as that keeps me evolving as a memoirist. Life is beautiful, life is magical, the adventure of being here is an incredible gift, and taking the time to reflect on what we’re living and to mine it for meaning makes our journeys all the richer and more fulfilling. For me, writing about daily life is, in itself, a spiritual practice. (Many artists would say the same about their own art, I’d wager.) It is also a huge part of the way that I “learn” — and have any “spiritual” insights to share — in the first place. So you will likely see more memoir-style stuff on there, once it’s up and running. I still want to include reflective philosophical pieces though, too, so it will be a mix. I’m not sure how much of a Q&A format the new blog will take (like this blog has had in the past); that will depend largely on how much I can feasibly convert blogging into work that can sustain me. However, I’m open-minded about how it will evolve. :) In the mean time, again, I am happy to offer personalized guidance for you in the form of tarot card readings.

And finally: a (hopefully uplifting) word about twin flames. You might have noticed that, even before i disappeared from Tumblr, I stopped writing much about twin flames. This is simply because I don’t feel I have much more to say about them than what I have already said. I might, of course, come across more inspiration in the future — in which case I will very excitedly write new posts! — but I have always believed that, regardless of the labels you do or don’t apply to a person, the same fundamental guidelines UNIVERSALLY apply: mutual respect (including mutual respect for boundaries); speaking your heart in a loving way; remembering that healthy, unconditional love is non-attached; reminding yourself that unconditional love has no price (including the fact that you will NEVER need to “earn” unconditional love through suffering); checklists aren’t definitive; labels are unnecessary; no program or to-do list is necessary for what’s meant to be; and no personal growth program, to-do list, or service that comes from an ethical mindset and is worth your while will promise you any given outcome or another regarding someone else’s free will. In other words, finding peace with a twin flame situation is not about labels, “payment” in any form, chasing, manipulations, etc. I suspect that just about anything I have ever had to say about “twin flames” or any other kind of relationship will reflect these core beliefs. Of course, my beliefs are just that: my beliefs. This doesn’t mean that they are THE beliefs, much less beliefs that anyone else must share. But to explain where I come from when I reflect on matters of love, I don’t see my beliefs on love as particularly New Age; they don’t involve a reliance on spiritual “hierarchies,” on channeled messages from love “authorities,” on schedules of “DNA upgrades” (or any other claims masquerading as science). That isn’t to say that I think less of anyone for following other paths or entertaining other lines of thought: just that, aside from messages about PURE LOVE — no bells, whistles, celestial/extraterrestrial third parties, or “upgrades” required — just love, which is awe-inspiring in itself . . . I don’t feel I have much else, on the phenomenon, to offer. ;) So I don’t see myself writing much “new” content on twin flames in the coming months, though that isn’t to say I won’t return to or refine an idea I expressed previously. I truly hope you can continue to find comfort and guidance in what I’ve already written here on the subject over the years. And even more importantly, I hope that you can connect with the comfort and guidance your own beautiful heart has been waiting to share with you. ♡

If you’ve read this far, thank you very much! My “return” to Tumblr is going to be very sporadic for the time being, because I need to keep focusing the majority of my time and energy on holdin’ it down, payin’ the bills, settlin’ in (including learning Deutsch!), and all that jazz. In a dream world, I can eventually build up enough of an income through writing and guidance services that I can put the editing aside and devote more time to my online presence, interacting with readers. I’m not there juuuust yet, but I’m excited for the journey, and I am very appreciative for your interest in my writing along the way. Knowing that people look forward to and find something valuable in my words means a great deal to me and is an important part of what keeps me coming back to, and trying to find a way to live from, my passions. My hope for you is that you, too, can connect with and build a life around yours.

Wishing you all SO much peace and love! Blessings, Laura

[tinkeringwithcannabis]

“The First 90 Minutes” Episode 10

Dela Haze 70/30S

Holistic Industries / Liberty Cannabis Somerville, Ma

Dispensary Agent: Peter

What’s up all my cannabis loving and canna-curious friends! Welcome back to another episode of The First 90 Minutes! Today we will be toking and talking about a strong Sativa hybrid, Dela Haze. I purchased this strain from the Vitality collection at Liberty Cannabis in Somerville, Ma. According to Leafly, this sweet, earthy, citrusy strain is best used for depression, fatigue, stress, pain, and lack of appetite. This makes sense given that it’s effects are happy, energetic, focused, creative, and euphoric. Personally, I sometimes struggle with strong Sativa strains because they can cause anxiety, and sometimes paranoia, two potential negatives of this strain. It is also reported to cause dry eye, dry mouth, and dizziness. So let’s light up, sit back and relax, and talk about the first 90 minutes!

Upon opening the container, a strong earthy aroma immediately hits your nostrils. There are hints of citrus and spice, but the earthy aroma is a little overpowering at first. The same goes with the taste. Very earthy, but I definitely taste some citrus on the pallet toward the end of the taste test. Today I’m going to medicate via glass pipe. So let’s get this baby fired up and see what she can do!

Starting my medication session at 6:30 pm, I feel very awake right now. This is definitely a strong effect, and it has greatly increased my mood and productivity after being exhausted from a busy day at work. My head is starting to have that gentle massage feeling as I feel a cerebral tingling creeping in. Outside of the increased cerebral and bodily energy, I do not feel much else in relation to bodily effects. I definitely am feeling talkative, and I just realized I must be driving my wife crazy because I can’t seem to stop talking. It’s like I just drank an energy drink or coffee, and I have an extreme energy burst. I just noticed that I am starting to experience a case of the jitters, and am feeling some anxiety from sitting with this pent up energy. Since I am super energetic and am starting to feel anxious, I decided to try using this energy burst to finish some projects I’ve been wanting to get done. My focus is on point, and my multitasking couldn’t be better! The energy burst brings with it a creative mindset that makes it really enjoyable for doing something art related, and I could even see this strain as an amazing option for hiking. The level of euphoria is insane on this bud! I feel invincible and like I could take on the world.

At 6:40 pm, my mind is buzzing with creative ideas which are adding so much more inspiration to my creative projects. I feel like Ansel Adams on speed! I can’t take enough photos, and everything seems so vibrant and beautiful. What’s even better is that my problem solving skills are also on point. Puzzles, trivia, art, working out, it doesn’t matter as long as you are focusing your energy somewhere productive. I am starting to experience some relaxed body effects, but not in the same manner that you would normally feel relaxed. It’s more like that lactic acid, “I’m going to pump, you up” type of effect. Like you just stretched and your muscles feel ready to go. My mind is still going strong, the cerebral massage is still very present, and the level of focus is still in perfect balance with my creative mindset.

At 7:00 pm, I just tried to sit down, but the motor-mouth effects are still going strong. I feel so happy and productive, and the energy level is still sending me buzzing around looking for projects to do. The cerebral massage continues as does the creative buzz. I still am so energetic, so I figured I would try to channel my energy into a video game. My level of focus and energetic mindset has me not only able to keep up with the game, but it has me looking at the game from a more logical standpoint, which is helping me kick ass as Skyrim. I can’t believe that the energy burst is still so intense!

I do feel manic right now, but not in the normal destructive manic phases I normally experience, instead, it’s a very happy mania, where I feel like I can get a lot done, focus on a large array of projects, and I definitely feel overly stimulated by everything going on around me if I do not have a focal point to hold as a “carrot” in front of me. I can see how this strain would make you get a ton of projects started, but if the environment you are in is full of distractions, you may find yourself getting side tracked. If that happens, just remember, next time you medicate with this strain, you may be able to finish the projects you started the first time around. If you are home alone, get ready to feel like you have done a lot in a very short amount of time. If you are home with others, try to find something productive to do, unless the others in your house are equally as chatty.

At 7:30 pm, one hour in, my focus is still on point, and my productivity is still going strong, but I feel myself starting to mellow out a little. My body is starting to relax, and the energy is starting to balance out a little, which has made it easier for me to sit down and work on projects like editing my photography, writing, or watching TV. Right now I am working with my aromatherapy oils, and I feel so connected to what I am doing. I am still very chatty right now, so the decrease in energy has not slowed down the “motor mouth” aspect. Although the anxiety and nervous energy that comes with the energetic bursts has subsided, I am noticing a strong sensation of dry mouth.

Crossing the finish line at 8:00 pm, the chattiness has continued to decrease slowly, and I am feeling more of an overall relaxation and peacefulness creeping up. I am still very functional and that boost in creativity is still present, but the overall feeling at this point is similar to when you’ve had a really productive day, and then you get to sit back and relax knowing everything you needed to get done has been completed.

So final thoughts, well first, if you are looking for a major energy boost, this may be the right fit for you. Although I experienced some anxiety related to this strain, once I got myself up and focused on projects that I could use as an outlet for the energy burst, I was golden. This is a very strong strain, so be careful. Honestly, I was glad I tried this strain while in a balanced place. I don’t feel that this strain would good fit for people with Bipolar disorder who are in a manic phase. The increased energy with mania, at least for me, spells disaster. Medicating from a good, mellow, happy place made this energy burst awesome, and I would definitely use this again.

Given the energetic buzz, I could definitely see how this could help with depression and fatigue. It also makes you feel really upbeat and productive so it keeps your mind busy while making you feel happy, which is amazing for stress. I enjoyed the tingling sensations I had, and did not feel that they were overpowering. Leafly lists pain and lack of appetite on the ailment list for this strain. Honestly, the bodily effects I experienced were more energetic than what I have experienced with other pain relieving strains. In regard to the lack of appetite, it definitely makes you want to eat, but in my experience, it seems more that the hunger I experienced was related to dry mouth, and not so much a simple appetite stimulant. It definitely did lead me to finish off a bowl of Lucky Charms, but it wasn’t until I started drinking water that I felt the hunger sensation decrease.

Overall, I would say this is a great strain. I enjoyed the energy and productivity, as well as the creative effects I experienced. I would caution patients, especially inexperienced patients, to go extremely slow on this strain, and give it time. Maybe start out with one very light hit and see how it affects you. I tested this strain out a second time taking only one very light hit, and the anxiety was less prominent than it was with two hits. I still felt extremely productive, but I did not experience an overwhelming boost of energy, but the effects were just enough to keep me going, make me feel upbeat and happy, and to allow myself to experience the creativity with the excellent focus. Overall, I would give this strain 4.3 stars!

Disclaimer

*****Please remember, this blog is an account of my personal experience with this strain. Not everyone has the same experience with every strain, and that’s okay. I always recommend taking one to two hits at the most, and waiting at least forty-five minutes to see how the product effects you. Go low and slow, you can always take more if needed. ******

[365footballorg-blog]

The buzz, the dog and 'life-changing' chances - FA Cup first-round preview

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Muddy pitches, tin-foil cut-out cups and widespread potential for first-round shocks – yes, the FA Cup is poised for another possible “life-changing” weekend for many, as English Football League clubs enter this season’s competition.

From seventh-tier Metropolitan Police to League One leaders Portsmouth, 80 sides know they are just two wins away from a potential big-money third-round draw.

At least six clubs from outside the English Football League will reach round two, but a further 20 non-league outfits will be hoping to join them by beating league opposition.

Among the remaining 14 all-EFL ties, two-time winners Sunderland travel to Port Vale as the Black Cats make their first appearance in round one since 1987.

But who is “lapping up” a possible giant-killing, who will be mindful of avoiding an upset and who is hoping a dog can help inspire them into round two?

FA Cup first-round fixtures[1]

‘You ain’t nothing but a hound dog’

The lowest-ranked side left in the competition are seventh-tier Hitchin Town, who have reached this stage for the first time in 23 years and will host National League Solihull Moors on Sunday.

Manager Mark Burke was playing for the Canaries the last time they featured in the first round in 1995, in one of over 700 appearances he made for the club.

“It’s historic and the town have come out for us,” he told BBC Three Counties Radio. “The community have got right behind us and we’re expecting a sell-out, with 3,500 people here cheering us on.”

Hitchin’s former Luton, Leeds and Watford midfielder Matthew Spring, who has featured in the fifth round at Arsenal for Leyton Orient, added: “I can see the excitement in the lads and that’s good enough for me – even seeing some of them nervous.

“If they [Solihull] come here and don’t fancy it and we have a good day, you just never know – that’s what we’re hoping for, that we can spring a surprise.”

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The hosts will also hope their lucky mascot, a dog called Elvis who is a regular at Hitchin games, can boost them on Sunday.

And the tie will be played at the Top Field ground exactly 147 years since the same venue staged a Hitchin-based side’s game on the first day of the inaugural FA Cup on 11 November, 1871.

Quiz: How well do you know the teams in the first round?[2]

Read more: Haringey Borough eye AFC Wimbledon giant-killing[3]

More history for Maidenhead

The old Hitchin FC were one of eight teams to play that day. Another of those, remarkably, is also in action this weekend, on another ground that hosted one of the opening ties 147 years ago.

National League Maidenhead United – managed by a former cup winner in ex-West Ham United midfielder Alan Devonshire – will host Portsmouth in Saturday’s 12:30 GMT kick-off.

Their York Road ground was where they beat Marlow in the first round in 1871, when just 15 clubs entered the now-world-famous competition.

Saturday will see them host a former FA Cup winner for a third time, with Pompey following Old Etonians and Oxford University in travelling to Maidenhead, who themselves lost at 1987 winners Coventry[4] last season.

Yet the Magpies, who are making their 10th first-round appearance, are bidding to reach round two for the first time.

FA Cup first round: How to follow the action on BBC Sport[5]

Watch: The best goal from each round of the 2017-18 FA Cup[6]

Met Police cause upset in fourth qualifying round[7]

‘You can feel the energy’ – Hampton & Richmond’s ‘biggest game’

Monday’s eagerly anticipated tie will see Hampton & Richmond Borough host League Two Oldham, in what is being described as the National League South outfit’s biggest ever fixture.

Former Charlton and Bristol Rovers striker Chris Dickson, whose first goal for the Addicks came in the cup against West Bromwich Albion in 2008, is among the hosts’ more experienced men.

“You just get a buzz. For the last few weeks we’ve been told not to talk about it and literally everyone wants to talk about it!” the 33-year-old told BBC Radio London.

“But now that it’s come round, you can just feel the energy. It’s everywhere at the moment. Everyone wants to be a part of it. The lads are going to lap it up.”

The Beavers produced one of the shocks of the fourth qualifying round as they won at National League Eastleigh, but their league form has dipped since, with two defeats and a draw in their subsequent three games.

Manager Gary McCann added: “I’ve been very much in the doldrums after the last few league games, with three really disappointing performances. Admittedly, the distraction of the cup played its part recently.

“We wanted more. But all that’s done is open the mindset up into what side we’re going to pick for Monday. They’ve left the door open, I’m afraid.

“Speaking to certain people in and around the football club, they’ve been quick to tell me this is the biggest game in the club’s 97-year history. I don’t think it’s a game you need to motivate for.”

The prize they’re all playing for

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If a lower-league club can pull off a shock – or multiple shocks – the financial rewards can be vast and long-lasting. Just ask League Two leaders Lincoln City, whose dramatic 2016-17 run has helped fund their new £1.3m elite performance centre.

Speaking as the 12.3 acre training-ground site opened, vice-chairman Roger Bates told BBC Sport: “The television money and the prize money have gone a long way towards underpinning what we’ve done here.

“It’s fair to say that, without that cup run, this would have been a challenge. The progress we’ve been able to make gives us a real sense of pride.”

Chief executive Liam Scully added: “The support we’ve had from the city and the spirit of football is ultimately why we all work in this game, for stories such as this that we’re living right now.

“This has all been achieved by six crazy months in a sense, by what was a relatively small non-league club at the time. To see us where we are now, averaging 8,500 gates, is phenomenal.”

Lincoln overcame Guiseley, Altrincham, Oldham, Ipswich, Brighton and Premier League Burnley before losing to Arsenal in the last eight, playing nine games in that run including replays.

The Imps knocked out the Clarets with a late 1-0 win at Turf Moor[8] in February 2017 to become the first non-league side to reach the quarter-finals for 103 years.

One of the stars of that run, forward Matt Rhead, added: “The FA Cup can change your life. We didn’t have a training ground at the time – we were training at parks, fields, wherever we could find. Now it’s somewhere that we can all call home.”

Lincoln host Northampton Town on Saturday, with £36,000 up for grabs for first-round winners this term after total prize money was doubled for this season to £30.2m.

What about those wanting to avoid a shock?

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Those scanning the first-round fixtures for possible shocks will likely look for three things; a lower-league side playing at home, a higher-ranked side enduring a poor run and minnows who are extra motivated.

At Saturday’s tie between Ebbsfleet United and Cheltenham Town, all three arguably apply. The National League hosts have a new boss in Garry Hill,[9] after Daryl McMahon’s exit by mutual consent on Wednesday.

Hill’s new side face a Robins outfit which is yet to win under manager Michael Duff in his nine League Two matches so far.

“It won’t be easy. In the pyramid, they’re not that many players below us,” Duff told BBC Radio Gloucestershire. “The players are fully aware of where we are and what we need to do.

“It’s a tough game but we’re not focused on them. The spotlight is on us, from us. They’re got lots of good players, but we’re looking at ourselves at the moment.”

Grand gestures

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Whatever the results this weekend, one club’s set of fans have already been made happy.

Boreham Wood chairman Danny Hunter is paying for the match tickets for every fan making the 416-mile round trip to Southport for their match.

The fixture is one of six all-non-league ties (all times GMT):

Chesterfield v Billericay (Sat, 15:00)

Southport v Boreham Wood (Sat, 15:00)

Sutton United v Slough Town (Sat, 15:00)

Torquay v Woking (Sat, 15:00)

Hitchin v Solihull Moors (Sun, 12:45)

Weston-super-Mare v Wrexham (Sun, 12:45)

How to follow the action with BBC Sport

BBC Sport has all of the first-round action covered on television, radio and online, starting with the tie between Haringey Borough and AFC Wimbledon, live on BBC Two on Friday (19:55 GMT).

Saturday’s Football Focus on BBC One at 12:05 will come live from Metropolitan Police FC, with presenter Dan Walker joined by Dion Dublin and Matthew Upson.

You can watch highlights from Saturday’s games on the BBC Sport website and app from 17:15, while Sunday’s FA Cup edition of Final Score from 12:30 will show the goals as they go in.

Highlights of the weekend’s ties will be shown on BBC Two from 17:30 GMT on Sunday, and the draw for the second round of the FA Cup will be broadcast live on BBC Two and online on Monday from 19:00.

Watch all of the latest FA Cup highlights and reaction here[10]

References

^ FA Cup first-round fixtures (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Quiz: How well do you know the teams in the first round? (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Read more: Haringey Borough eye AFC Wimbledon giant-killing (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ lost at 1987 winners Coventry (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ FA Cup first round: How to follow the action on BBC Sport (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Watch: The best goal from each round of the 2017-18 FA Cup (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Met Police cause upset in fourth qualifying round (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ 1-0 win at Turf Moor (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ new boss in Garry Hill, (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Watch all of the latest FA Cup highlights and reaction here (www.bbc.co.uk)

BBC Sport – Football

The buzz, the dog and 'life-changing' chances – FA Cup first-round preview was originally published on 365 Football