#i drafted this yesterday very certainly after the thought came to me in the shower and today i hesitate. for why

[nejackdaw]

Offering another Stanford song (I think, based off Tumblr posts/AO3 fic lol I haven't actually rewatched recently)

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 25 May 1837

8 25

11 20

fine morning – out at 9 ¼ at the Lodge and about till came in to breakfast at 10 – out again ½ hour – about – at the Lodge – at the Stump Cross Inn with Mawson and David Booth (Zebedee bringing stone for the wash-house – what was Mawsons’ old stable) – great fault in the paving of the stable and in job generally – the front archway has given way a little – home about 12 ¼ - wrote the whole of yesterday and rough draft of letter to Mr. Harper to be considered about heavy shower between 12 and 1 – out again at 1 ½ - no! wrote 1 p. of envelope to A- Cliff hill enclosing one of the letters sent to her care by Mrs. Sutherland and sending 2 or 3 little things by George – out again at 1 50 – with Charles Howarth and Booth chalking out on the floor of the new coach house the west tower roof – with Ingham and his 2 sons setting out (according to Mr. Gray’s plan) the laundry court wall – then with Robert Mann at the little field cistern – the pipe to be laid tomorrow – John brought it this morning from H-x (Firth’s) then at the Lodge – with Blythe Booth and Robert Mann about drilling hole for the chains to work in that are to open the gate upstairs – a 4in. hole to be drilled – Mr. Husband told Robert M- that he (Mr. Husband) had a plan for thus opening the gates – perhaps Mr. Gray had seen it, and given it to me – desired Robert to tell Mr. Husband to send me his plan – sealed up, if he chose – when I spoke to him long ago, he said the gates could be thus opened but it would be very expensive – would cost £20, and seemed then to think it so out of the question I said no more and Mr. H- seemed to think the thing given up – about 5 or after Messrs. Holt of the Travellers Inn and Waddington Deputy constable came wanting to speak to me – to know if I had seen any man fighting at Holts’ door last Sunday week – no! Waddington explained – said that William Pearson said that I had told him I saw men fighting at Holts’ door last Sunday week – I said I had never seen Mr. William Pearson to my knowledge since speaking to him about Mrs. Hopkin, and had certainly never made

SH:7/ML/E/20/0066

any complaint to him of seeing any men fighting at Holts’ door last Sunday week – He must have dreampt the things for I had certainly never told him any such thing – had never seen any such thing – but I would turn to my day book – brought H- and W. to the hall – they had beer – turned to my Journal and read them principals occurrences of the day in question from which it was evident that I had seen no fighting – if I had I should certainly have made some note of it – called George and asked if he had seen any fighting – no! said that if Mr. Brooke, the constable (to whom William P- had reported my telling him of the fighting) chose to take the trouble of coming here, I would read him the same extract from my day book that I had read to them (H- and W-) – they seemed much satisfied – W- thought nobody so particular as I was – poor fellow! such a thing as a journal was quite foreign to him – he seemed quite astonished when I calmly said I could tell what I had said and done for the last 21 years past quite as well as for the last Sunday but one – I left them at their beer in the upper kitchen at 5 ½ - then went to the gardener whom I had desired to get up some whims and brambles in the Little field but found him planting rhubarb in the (Conery) garden – gave him a blow up, and brought up John Booth and Jack Green from the Lodge and stood by and saw the stuff got up and carted to the Lodge and planted on Mr. Gray’s rough walling ledges and came in at 7 35 – dinner at 7 50 – coffee – and had come up to my study and written all but the 1st 7 lines of today at 9 ½ - going into the cow house this evening about 6 ½ found little John Booth helping his father to milk – told reminded John how often I had said I would not have little John employed here without my orders – said I should not find much fault – I should not say much but he John knew I was determined to have my orders obeyed – as he could not go to H-x on a Saturday without him, I had given up the thought of sending the cart on a Saturday as before – poor John! I said if his children were here, why should not Franks’ be here too – very fine day F46° now at 9 35 pm – Frank bringing lime from H-x morning and part of afternoon and lastly one load of stone for Ingham from Hipperholme quarry – Zebedee bringing wall stone (the old table close in front of the house) from the Stump X Inn – John B- with the gin horse brought lead pipe from H-x this morning – and the gin horse brought stuff from Little fields this evening – the masons (4 and lads) at the wash and brew house all today – Ingham + 2 sons at the footing of the Laundry court far end (north) wall – the gardener and Joseph Booth sodding with green and heather sods about the rough walling at the Lodge – did not make much shew today – Roberts’ men barrowing stuff from Lodge ash place to below the Lodge raising the mound – note (sent  by George) at 4 this afternoon to A- at Cliff hill – bavardage amical – and note in answer from her ditto ditto – 2 carriages put into the new coach house tonight 1st time – the east doors put up this afternoon – taken from the last new coach house quondam corn-barn – letter tonight from Mrs. Cookson – her mother very ill – begs to stay with her a few days longer – was to have returned tomorrow – went last Friday – from 9 ¾ to 10 20 read from p. 80 to 102 Higgins on the earth – cutting open the leaves till 10 ½ -

[devnicolee]

Overworked

Quarantine Writing Challenge

A/N: This is my submission for @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup’s writing challenege. This is my first time participating in one of thesse so very excited! Enjoy! Edited to now include the photo - it has been a long week indeed :) 

Warnings: Some slight angst

Word Count: 2.4K  

Pairing: Black reader x M’Baku

Your head fell forward as you dozed off behind your desk. While this was certainly out of character for you, exhaustion was the unfortunate side effect of working into the early morning hours night after night. You knew you were pushing your body to its limit as you tired to operate on less than 4 hours of sleep each day for the last week. 

Between drafting a new proposal for a partnership initiative for T’Challa, planning tonight’s party and tackling the mountain of tribal work pilling up on your desk, your plate was overwhelmingly full. You were not shocked to find the role of chieftess difficult and demanding, you expected it. But after an entire life spent perfectly organized and on top of everything, you had never felt like this before. There were simply not enough hours in the day to field all the requests for new programs and technology from the lowlanders and requests from tribal members, keep up with your engineering projects, plan your calendar of events, and be a dutiful wife. You weren’t sure which project caused this, which one was officially too much. But you quickly went from expertly juggling all your responsibilities with grace to fumbling and wildly racing between them like a mad woman.

"Y/N… Y/N!!" 

You almost jumped clean out of your own skin as someone’s shouts penetrated your cluttered thoughts. You jumped out of your seat, eyes wide and alert, to find no one other than your husband leaning against the office door frame with an amused smile on his face.

"Oh, my love. I didn’t hear you knock. I am sorry," you laughed, your hand clutching your heart as you tried to calm down from the sudden scare. You closed your eyes for a second, a small bout of dizziness overcoming you from the abrupt movement. 

"I can tell… it’s alright. It is a Saturday, what on Earth are you doing here? I hope you are not stressing yourself out over this party?" he warned as he walked into the office. You stood up to get a glass of water from a table in the office, allowing him to steal your seat behind the desk. You both knew it wouldn’t bother you much, your preferred seat was his lap anyway. Your mind was so clearly preoccupied as M’Baku eyed you suspiciously, so preoccupied that you didn’t even notice the slight tremble in the glass in your hand. But he certainly did. The moment you were in arms length again, he quickly grabbed your curvy hips to pull you into his lap. 

M'Baku was no secret to exhaustion, the long tiring days that came with leadership. He certainly appreciated his chieftess’s willingness to take the majority of work with the lowlanders off his plate, allowing him to focus on tribal matters. And it seemed to be working out masterfully until the last week or two. He realized as he looked at you, properly for the first time in days, that the little things he had noticed recently were now significant things… concerning things. Exhaustion was a prominent fixture on your face, marked with stress and dark bags makeup couldn’t fully hide. "I told you it is a busy time, we do not need a celebration on top of everything else."

"Nonsense. It is your 5th anniversary as chief, M’Baku. We can’t not celebrate your dedication to our people. A celebration you deserve, by the way," you quickly waved his concerns off as you held his face in your hands. Your fingers played with the coarse hair of his beard as you looked at him. "You just hate attention… don’t make this about me."

"This is about you. There is no time for a party right now, you. Between all these random requests from the King, preparing for winter... you do not have time. You know you can say no, right?"

"All of those are part of my duties as chieftess M’Baku." Your body leaned away from him a bit, growing agitated at his sudden interrogation.

"No, don’t try to remind me of your duties like I do not know them. You do me no service when you overload your plate to ease mine. I spoke to your assistant yesterday after you missed dinner for the third night in a row. You have taken on far too much. You cannot personally oversee every project in the lab, every program with the Golden City, and keep up with the everyday tasks of chieftess. You can’t do it all little one and no one is asking you to."

"I am not trying to do everything. I am just trying to be a good chieftess. I don’t want to embarrass you," your voice trailed off at the end as you ran your hands gingerly through the soft fur on his collar. You found a stray, loose string, which you tugged at slightly. You ignored how your vision went in and out, black spots obscuring the small brown strand. "Remind me to re-sew this tomorrow... I don’t want it to tear off."

M’Baku shook his head, frustrated at your deflection. He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see the toll all this was taking on you. His heart ached, as it always did, when you expressed doubt in your abilities as chieftess. He hated the way your eyes avoided his and your gaze fell down to your own lap in embarrassment. His rough hands gripped your grin lightly, lifting your head back to his eye level. His thumb grazed your cheek as he forced you to look at him.

"You could never embarrass me Y/N. You can worry me and you are. Not sleeping or eating... you are distracted, stressed. You just aren’t yourself. You are stretching yourself too thin."

"No, I am not." you responded defiantly. "I know when I am overwhelmed. This is nothing. I wish you would stop worrying. Besides, your party is tonight. It is too late to cancel it."

An intense staring match ensued, neither side willing to back down just yet. M'Baku rolled his eyes before nodding, conceding because even he had to admit this was a losing battle. And you had a point, it was indeed too late to cancel. 

You kissed him on the nose, a silent thank you before he got up to let you finish your day of work before the party. 

****

You sat quietly at your vanity, applying the finishing touch to your makeup as quickly as you could. You cursed yourself for losing track of time earlier, leaving you with only mere minutes to throw on your custom dress and run downstairs to oversee final details. The moment you stood up, you were forced back into your seat as a wave of dizziness settled over you. You leaned your head into your hand, trying to avoid disturbing your hard work, praying that it would pass before M'Baku came out of the bathroom. 

You silently demanded your body pull it together, you just needed to get through a few more hours. A few more hours, you chanted under your breath as you forced yourself back onto your feet. It was only marginally more successful than the first time but you were determined to press forward. Your heart couldn’t take messing up this night for M’Baku. 

"Are you alright, Ikumkani?" M'Baku said suspiciously as he followed behind you into the bathroom to grab his clothes for the party.

"Of course, my king," you answered softly, forcing your voice to maintain its usual timber. But even you knew it was a tall order to get him to ignore the noticeable shake in your words. You slid your white robe off your shoulders, allowing it to fall in a heap at your feet, and stepped into your dress. Pulling the detailed bodice up your frame felt like an Olympic task. Your body was beginning to protest, loudly and defiantly telling you a few more hours would simply not do.  

Your arm held the strapless gown up against your chest as you looked behind you at your husband, "Can you zip me up, my love?" you asked. 

"I would rather tear it off of you. This dress is a vision, as you will be in it." M'Baku showered you with praise as his hands took time to room your body before finding the delicate zipper at the back of the dress. You only partially heard him, offering minimal “hmms” as thanks, too afraid to talk as nausea churned in your stomach. 

"I am done, little one," M'Baku said. You felt his presence move from behind you, his voice seemed so far away as if you were talking through a tunnel. You didn’t move though. You leaned into the wooden case holding your jewelry as if your life depended on it, suspecting that your legs could no longer hold your weight.  

You took a deep breath, deciding to make a break for it, "What di-" you started to say before everything went black. 

****

When you woke up, you were on the floor in M'Baku's arms. You couldn’t comprehend his words, they were flying by rapidly and unable to penetrate the cloud in your brain. But his panic was evident and reached your ears clearly.

"Y/N!" 

You looked around wildly, your brain sluggish and slow as it tried to catch up with the reality around you. Instinctively, you tried to sit up but the grip M’Baku had on your arms kept you flush against his chest.

"It’s ok. You fainted, you just need to relax. It is ok, I got you, my love." 

You nodded softly and allowed your head to lull back at his sweet whispers. Confusion was the paramount feeling at the moment, that and exhaustion. But you had M’Baku, you were in his arms, you were safe and that meant there was little to worry about. You both laid there for a few moments before you felt well enough to squeeze his hand, signaling that you were ready to move. He clearly didn’t trust your judgement so he swooped you up bridal style and carried you into the bathroom. He sat you gently on the edge of the tub. His eyes intently scanned your body, still in your designer gown, his hands rubbing up and down your body, to look for injuries. His face scrunched up in worry, concerned that he had not caught you soon enough. 

"I-I am fine, M'Baku. No pain, just exhausted," you whispered back to him, trying to settle the clear anxiety coursing through him. You could tell by the way his eyes darted across your frame frantically and his rapid movements that you scared him, truly scared him. And now, you felt the burden of that, wanted to do anything within your current physical limitations to make him feel at ease again.

"How long?" M'Baku asked, his hands finally settled on your thighs. His question required no other context or words, you knew he wanted to know how long you had been feeling like this, how long you had been ignoring it and you knew he would not be pleased with the answer. But lying was not an option, it never was with the two of you. 

"The last few days," you answered truthfully, avoiding his eyes. "You were right, I am overwhelmed... I thought I could c-catch up but it was too much and it kept growing and g-growing. I j-just didn't want to admit I failed you." 

M'Baku scoffed, "You can't fail me, you. I will tell you this every day until you believe it. B-but you can't do this ever again. Y/N, I am serious. You can never scare me like that again. The way you looked... I th-... please, you can't just take care of me or the tribe. You have to make yourself a priority too. Promise me." 

You leaned forward, which took great energy on your part, and kissed him on the lips. It was soft, gentle, conveyed more in an apology than your words would. "I promise. I’m sorry." 

That seemed to suffice, he offered you a smile that pushed some of the guilt out of your heart. He stood up and held you for a moment, unzipping your dress so it fell off you. "You are going to take a bath, and then go to bed." He turned on the hot water in their tub, filling it with water and your favorite vanilla bubble bath. 

"B-but the par-" 

The look on his face immediately silenced you. "The party is no longer your concern. We are not going.” 

“It is your party, we have to go,” you insisted, guilt rushing through you at ruining his night. “What if I just go for a litt-”

“Y/N,” he growled, his tone highlighting his frustration at his stubborn wife. “You should be glad I am not calling every healer in this tribe. You will stay here and you will rest. That is final.” 

His face softened slightly at the small nod you gave, you understood you couldn’t fight him on this one. But he also understood how guilty you felt for crashing on his special day, how badly you wanted tonight to be perfect for him. 

“Fine, I will go and show my face for an hour once you are in bed. It will be amazing and everyone will love it. But you will stay here, all I want for my celebration is for you to finally rest, Y/N." 

You nodded, and slid down into the bath, the warm water felt heavenly against your tired body. M’Baku watched you closely, clearly concerned that you may faint in the tub. You looked, to him, as weary and tired as he imagined you felt. That made him feel secure in his decision to make this call. The duties and pressures of the tribe could wait, you needed to just be you for a while. He only left your once, for a few moments as it was nearing time for him to go downstairs, to get dressed. He came back in his slacks and dress shirt with a cup of your favorite chamomile tea in hand.

He helped you out of the bath slowly. If you weren’t already, his gentleness and care would have usually made you weak in the knees. He left you to finish getting dressed but after putting on your panties, you decided you had little energy for other clothes. You slid your robe on and tied a towel around your wet twists, and slid on your reading glasses. 

You lazily walked out of the bathroom, sipping your perfectly-made tea, to find M’Baku putting on his suit jacket. 

"You look perfect. Happy anniversary, M'Baku." 

He pulled you in close for a deep, passionate kiss before he steered you toward the California-King size bed and helped you in. "Thank you. Get some rest, usana. I will be back in an hour." 

He watched you for a minute or two, as you sunk into the bed and your eyes drifted shut. "I love you," he whispered, but all he heard in return were the soft, gentle snores of the very-exhausted love of his life.

He chuckled lightly, kissing you on the forehead this time and removing your glasses before heading toward the door. As he left, he decided an hour was really going to be 30 minutes. He had a wife to tend to.

****

@muse-of-mbaku @dawva @destinio1 @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami

[artificialqueens]

Mer-made For Each Other (Crystal x Gigi) - Mina

A/N: I’ve had this mermaid au in my drafts for ages and finally deemed it ready to post. I have a fun enemies to lovers thing coming out sometime this week so look forward to that, I hope you like this! As always you can come yell at me on @goodemornting :)

Summary: There’s something weird about Crystal’s new neighbour, the shy and shrimp-loving Gigi Goode. Something… fishy.

It felt like bricks were being stacked one by one on Crystal’s limbs as she trudged home from the library at nearly one o’clock on a Saturday. Her worn bookbag was slung half hazardously over her shoulder, the books inside almost certainly working to unravel the tightly woven threads meant to hold them. She felt as though she was slowly breaking down, like even a simple gust of wind could knock her over or simply erode her as if she were dust from a stone. Pulling an all nighter was definitely not the redhead’s best decision, but in the rare moment she got the motivation or the information to write her thesis, well, Crystal knew better than to ignore it.

Coffee, she needed coffee, sweetened until it could hardly be considered drinkable, but in favor of her bank account keeping steady she didn’t stop for any on the way home - a walking zombie with only one thing on her mind, said thing the plush blankets laying bed ready to welcome her back home. Tiny cheers erupted from the back of her mind when she finally reached her floor, the cheap and frayed beige carpet and faded salmon colored wallpaper a comforting sign that soon she could plummet into the depths of sleep.

But, the path to her door just happened to be blocked.

Blocked by a person carrying a box.

Crystal paused, blinking - her eyes burned with the need for sleep - and took in the figure before her who stared right back. It was a woman, pale skin peeking through a stylish black cardigan and tucked into a simple plaid skirt that ended just shy of the middle of her thighs, long legs extending to slip into modest heels. The redhead met her deep eyes - they looked black, but the light of the hall catching in them revealed a deep blue - beholding her sloping nose, lips upturned and glossy, and eyes framed by an abundance of eyelashes. Her hair was long and straight and wet, like a dark brown river dripping globs of water onto the floor as she blinked right back at Crystal with a tilt of her head.

Oh, she was cute.

“Who are you?” She asked, words echoing around through the hallway. Seconds after the words left her mouth she felt stupid. The boxes, the new woman before her, the lack of residency in the room beside prior, the landlord telling her yesterday before she had rushed out to get her materials from the library, should’ve answered that question immediately.

“Oh, um, hello,” the woman held a box between them, her arms swallowed up by the oversized cardigan. “I just moved in. I’m Gigi Goode.”

Oh, she’s very cute. And hot.

“Crystal,” She managed to mumble back with a small tired smile, “Elizabeth.”

The woman - Gigi Goode - smiled, a dainty one, her teeth extremely white and seemingly pointy like a shark. “I hope we can become friends.”

“Likewise,” The redhead reciprocated with a tiny wave, ending in a yawn that she’d feel bad about later but right now the image of her fluffy pillows is beckoning her. Crystal had meant what she said though, she certainly wouldn’t mind making friends with the supermodel next door. Especially when she was less tired.

“Ah, um, it was nice meeting you, but gestured to the door just behind her, beside the one currently propped open with a box labeled dishes. Her eyes widened when she realised Crystal was probably trying to get inside as well, audibly letting out an “Oh!” followed by an apologetic, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stop you.”

The taller woman shrugged nonchalantly in return, taking the needed steps to her door whilst digging in her jean pocket for her keys and brushing it off with a “It’s fine, nice meeting you!”

The task of fishing her keys from her pocket - which should’ve been easy because of all the chains and ornaments she stuck to them - took longer than she would’ve liked, but thankfully, she was tired and couldn’t feel any embarrassment when they finally plummeted to the beige carpet. She huffed, going to pick them up before a delicate hand got to them first. Crystal jerked back, Gigi offering her shy smile, fitting the key in easily and turning it until there’s an audible click.

“Thank…you?” The redhead mumbled, pink cheeks covered by all the makeup there in the first place. There was a salty smell to Gigi, it reminded Crystal of her trips to the beach as a child, all the sand that got caught in her hair and how much icecream she consumed every day of summer. She shook her head, trying to escape from the thoughts of how good the shorter woman might look in a swimsuit.

The brunette nodded, “Don’t mention it”, politely stepping back to the box she’d set down, picking it up easily and disappearing through her door.

Crystal decided to follow suit, making her way through her darkened apartment with practiced ease and hitting the pillows just as she heard a thud echo from the other side of the wall.

***

Two and a half had weeks passed until Crystal saw her neighbor again. Honestly that could’ve been due to the fact she left and came back to the apartment at the most ungodly hours and sometimes spent the night at her friend’s house when she couldn’t work up the energy to walk all the way from campus back to the place she pays for to sleep in. But what she noticed when she did come home is that Gigi didn’t leave her apartment much, or when she did she left for long periods of time. Whenever the redhead came home there was always a takeout box in front of her neighbor’s door from the seafood place two blocks down, no signs that anyone was out to collect it soon. Crystal tried to mind her business, but when the smell of fish always wafted through the hall, carpet permanently littered with trails of water drops, she couldn’t help but get a little curious.

It was one of the rare days Crystal actually came home when the sun was out - granted it was settling for the evening. When she entered the hall and smelt the familiar seafood she almost groaned audibly, before spotting a young kid - high school age at least - carrying the familiar takeout box and rapping his knuckles three times against Gigi’s door. The first time they met, Crystal hadn’t thought much of the dripping wet hair, but when it popped out of the door, her brain couldn’t reason that maybe the pale woman just got out of the shower. After all, most people dry their hair with a towel after bathing, not letting thick drops of water fall onto the beige carpet of the hall when they smile wide and accept more seafood.

Maybe Gigi just got hot easily? Understandable, since she was quite attractive. But why would you always have wet hair? To be fair the redhead had only seen her twice.

Crystal’s head ached, deciding that prying into her neighbours strange habits - especially when she has plenty herself - was only going to add more stress to her already way overblown stress meter, when Gigi opened her door to the child with a soft smile, immediately shifting to her gaze to Crystal.

Her cheeks stretched into a warm smile, “Oh, Neighbour!” She waved.

The taller woman paused, mentally checking how worn down she looked. Her clothes were noticeably wrinkle-free, the bags under her eyes concealed by the glasses she put on instead of contacts, and her hair was mussed. Crystal reasoned that it was a huge improvement from the past few days, hell, she wasn’t wearing sweatpants.

“Hey Gigi,” she waved back politely, “seafood again?” It was meant as a polite attempt at conversation, but the way the thin woman tensed maybe she shouldn’t have brought it up. 

The laugh the brunette let out must’ve been meant to be nonchalant but it was much more stiff.  “Oh, you know, just my favorite.”

Without thinking, “Really? What’s your favorite?” Crystal wished she would have just read the atmosphere and go into her apartment, sit down, and agonize over her thesis like usual instead of pry into a topic her neighbor obviously wanted to avoid. Maybe someone had thought Gigi’s love of seafood was weird and told her that and now she’s self conscious about it.

“Uh,” The pause was almost comical, the shorter woman glancing nervously at the takeout in her hands, “shrimp.”

Crystal blinked, echoing “Shrimp?”

Gigi breathed in sharply, fingers fiddling with the plastic bag. “Yes,” she said sagely, “shrimp.”

Oh. Okay.

“I like shrimp too” Crystal giggled, and that wasn’t not really a lie, as much as she used it to ease whatever awkwardness is around them.

“Oh.” Gigi’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately, “Cool.” They stared back at one another for awhile, the brunette half inside her apartment clutching a box of fishy smelling food - probably shrimp - and Crystal clutching the strap of her worn backpack slung on her shoulder.

“Well, I’ll get going now, got-“ The brunette awkwardly lifted the takeout box “-shrimp to eat.”

“Oh, yeah of course.” Crystal bowed her head politely, awkwardly shrugging her shoulders, “I’ve got a thesis to write, so.”

They exchanged one last glance, before Gigi shut her door and the redhead let out an audible sigh, returning to her own room and lighting some incense to drown out the salt water scent.

***

The next time she encountered Gigi, was at the small convenience store two buildings down from the cheap apartments, two minutes before closing at ten pm on a Tuesday.

Crystal didn’t have a reliable schedule, the owner of the store knew this, many times in the past staying open well after closing just for the poor graduate student to get some groceries so she could eat something other than instant noodles that week. Looking back, she really should’ve paid the extra thousand for the other apartment with the cramped bathroom because what she needs is a kitchen that has more than a sink, fridge, and counter space for a microwave.

Gigi locked eyes with the redhead from opposite ends of the frozen produce aisle, both visibly tensing. Crystal knew the reason she did is because she wore a oversized green hoodie and baby blue shorts that covered maybe a third of her thighs, feet protected by obnoxious pink crocs. Her hair is definitely not combed and the back is sticking up in her reflection in the freezer glass, eyes squinting unflatteringly because she’d decided against contacts and lenses.

Basically she looked horrible and her neighbor was illegally good looking for this time of night.

The taller woman averted her eyes into Gigi’s basket, quickly tucked behind her jeans before she can get a proper look. Maybe she’s embarrassed about a purchase, which was ridiculous since Crystal was carrying a comical amount of cabbage - on sale - and as luck would have it, shrimp - also on sale. Among other notable items there’s deodorant and toothpaste, the cheapest one, which happened to be melon flavored. 

Gigi’s items couldn’t be that bad, not that she especially cared, approaching cheerily with the most enthusiastic “Gigi!” She could muster.

Gigi smiled back, a little forced. Crystal wondered if she’s the type to hold her tongue when someone is bothering her to much, also wondering if maybe that’s exactly what she’s doing right now. “How are you?” She asked politely, not exactly feigning interest as she turned her attention to the basket half obstructed by the other’s body.

“Just shopping,” Gigi replied, chuckling and shifting so her basket was even more hidden, “haven’t had much time lately with all my classes.”

“I know what you mean,” Crystal sighed out of understanding, giving up taking a peak at the mystery contents of the brunettes basket, “I haven’t gotten to a store in two weeks.”

“Oh, that’s sad.” Her neighbour chuckled, anxiously shifting from foot to foot, “Well, the store should be closing soon so I’m gonna,” Gigi motioned past her, awkwardly beginning to sidestep with her basket still concealed, but turning as she walked so it couldn’t be seen.

“Oh yeah, gotta hurry myself,” Crystal shook her own basket, returning a nervous smile and starting to awkwardly make her exit, “see you around neighbor!”

Gigi nodded, smile stretched stiffy across her face, walking backwards to conceal her basket behind her long pale legs. Man, Crystal was really curious about what exactly she’s buying that she wanted to hide so much. The redhead kept walking, plucking a popsicle from one freezer, and then ducking around the aisle to wait for Gigi to finally turn back around. Once she saw a relieved sigh huffed from the pretty neighbor’s lips, turning around and relaxing her grin, Crystal snuck a picture with her cellphone, quickly zooming into the contents of the basket.

And it’s just—lotion.

For the first few seconds zoomed in on the familiar looking bottles of moisturizing lotions and creams, Crystal was very confused. Very lost.

Why would the brunette need that much? There was no way that that was all that was in there but moving the zoomed in area around didn’t reveal any other contents beside foundation and a protein bar that tastes like sand in your mouth in her experienced opinion.

Was that why her skin was so smooth? She literally bathed in lotions and moisturisers?

Crystal shook her head at the ridiculous thoughts, especially the one of Gigi in a bathtub, flailing limbs sticking out of a thick cream of white and off-white lotions, rubbing it into said limbs as she closed her eyes in lotion-ey bliss. The redhead needed more sleep, she realized, waiting until Gigi left to purchase her items and lag a bit behind so she didn’t try to strike up more conversation and say something stupid or flirty.

*** 

She lay in bed - her mattress on the floor stacked high with blankets because her old bed frame broke - staring at the ceiling, laptop set aside as she pondered.

What was Crystal pondering?

It should’ve been her thesis, due date looming ever so close as she spent more moments like this not working on it.

No, the graduate student thought about how much she wanted to make an actual meal. How much she missed eating more than icecream and salad every night. Crystal couldn’t even afford to get chicken delivered, or even go pick it up herself. Her kitchen was tucked beside her bathroom, no microwave, and cabbage gets really old after two weeks of nothing but cabbage and the occasional piece of shrimp. The scent of saltwater wafted to her nose as it usually did, the redhead starting to relate the scent to the arrival of her neighbour as it and the aroma of seafood - specifically shrimp? - always seemed to fill the hallway when Gigi was around. No one had complained yet, but really that could be because Nicky from across the hall was weak to Gigi’s looks just like Crystal, or that Jan on the other side of the apartment burned sandalwood incense 24/7 which was quite permeating like the sea scent as well.

The redhead lamented how pretty her brunette neighbor was, ignoring the ever growing hole in her stomach of not focusing on her work to instead consider how if only she came and went from her apartment at normal times she could maybe have a proper neighbourly conversation with Gigi about, well, something that neighbours normally talk about. But no, she had better things to do, like not work on her thesis. Her thesis on what jellyfish stings can power, which was quite an interesting topic if you thought about it.

She heard a loud thud from next door, jumping slightly at the unexpected noise. It wasn’t the sound of the door shutting, no, it was the sound of something hitting the ground, heavy.

Crystal lifted her head, looking over at the wall she shared with Gigi and furrowing her brows. She herself was definitely clumsy, but her neighbor, her seemingly always put together, not a strand of hair left uncombed neighbour, I drink strawberry tea and go running for fun neighbour, had dropped something that heavy on accident?

She waited, the hum of her fridge loud in the silent apartment, until she heard a muffled ‘shit’ followed by the sound of bottles clattering to the floor.

Honestly she didn’t know why, but she hopped to her feet, red hair bouncing behind her as she exited her apartment and knocked loudly on the shorter woman’s door, calling “Gigi?”

A muffled voice murmured something through the door quietly, Crystal suddenly thinking maybe it’d have been better if she’d knocked through the wall. But the thought that maybe Gigi had fell and hurt herself overpowered her so she tentatively twisted the door handle, elated to find that it was unlocked.

The smell of seaweed and oceans swarmed her as soon as she entered the apartment hesitantly, footsteps slicing through the otherwise silent hallway. “Are you okay? It’s just me, your neighbour!”

It was the same exact apartment Crystal owned, if only reversed and the walls being painted an off white colour compared to her own mint green, so she moved with shy certainty to where Gigi presumably hid behind the bathroom door.

“I-I’m alright,” The brunette called frantically, voice unsteady and breathy. “I just lost my footing, you didn’t need to come over.”

Crystal ignored her, placing a hand on the bathroom door handle getting ready to open it after she responded, “I’m sorry, I was worried you might’ve hit your head.” She paused, debating whether her next words might come off to strong. “Can I come in?”

“Uh-“ Gigi seemed to knock over more bottles in response, the sound causing Crystal to fuck it, pull the door fully open so she could see just what was happening.

The bathtub was full of water, spilling onto the tiled floor, pink coloured bubbles consuming the tub. The familiar bottles of lotion and moisturizers she recognised from the sneakily taken photo are scattered on the floor, and Crystal’s eyes focused on the center of the room. Gigi was naked, but that seemed quite unimportant compared to the fact that her pale skin - the redhead remembers it being smooth and glowing - was bumpy, textured, overlapping?

It reminded her of fish scales.

Fish scales.

Fish, gills, long slits in the skin stretched across her ribs, opening and closing with each huff of Gigi’s chest.

Crystal knew her jaw had bid goodbye to her skull, hanging open as she stared wide eyed back into similar shocked blue eyes. They were both silent, the slosh of water over the side of the tub making loud splatting sounds with each wave of overflow.

“You’re a,” Crystal wasn’t really sure what, but “fish?” Is what comes out.

Gigi’s eyes scrunched immediately, a look of shock quickly subsiding into disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a fish?” Crystal repeated, wearing disbelief as well but of a different cloth.

“I—no,” The brunette sputtered, shaking her head, “what?”

“You,” She raised a hand to motion at the gills and scales, “what are those?”

Her neighbor kept her mouth shut, obviously trying to find the words, or maybe a believable excuse, but soon the time is passing to make an excuse for what Crystal can’t pass off as a dream the longer she sees it.

“I’m a - uh - a fish person? Not a fish,” She began, quickly shutting down anymore fish thoughts, “whatever you call us.”

Crystal felt like her jaw might actually detach and fall to the floor. “You’re a mermaid?” She managed to breath out, barely audible.

“Yes.” The fish woman calmly replied, holding her gaze. It’s then that Crystal looked down at the long, scaled legs supporting Gigi’s body, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“But why don’t you have a tail?” She questioned, motioning at the other’s lower half.

“I should have a tail, but obviously there’s not enough water for that to happen right now.” Gigi scoffed, narrowing her eyes as though Crystal was the weird one, “Some have legs or fish heads, both, or neither, or it could depend on natural stuff,” she pointed to herself.

The redhead blinked a few times, turning to glance at her own, very not fishlike reflection in the mirror, before stepping out and shutting the bathroom door.

A moment passed, Crystal standing silently behind the barrier in Gigi’s living room. She took a deep breath, convincing herself that maybe the cabbage she had eaten beforehand was rotten and she was hallucinating, and then -

The door opened back up and she stepped through, looking her neighbor up and down again scrutinizingly. She still sat very much fishlike in the pink bubbles, scales glistening in the water. Shit.

“I don’t believe you,” She finally concluded, “you’re just,” Crystal pursed her lips in thought, nose twitching, “good at special effects makeup.”

Gigi rolled her eyes, giving a death stare at the taller woman. She grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall beside her, emerging from the bubble bath and wrapping it around her exposed body hastily, reminding Crystal that she herself was the one who had stormed in on a naked unsuspecting fish person.

A fish person.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” Gigi adjusted the towel slightly, getting it comfortably around her hips and then itching around a gill, “but I’m the real thing.”

Crystal laughed disingenuously through a frown. “Oh, you’re so funny.”

“This isn’t a joke,” The fish - no, her neighbour, deadpanned.

“Oh you,” The redhead chuckled, slowly shutting the door as she backed away, “be careful and enjoy your bath!”

The door clicked shut again.

And Crystal promptly returned home to stare up at her ceiling instead of work on her thesis, head positively swarming with reasonable explanations as to what the fuck just happened in her pretty neighbours bathroom. She could hardly breathe, practically choking with the knowledge that holy fuck, actual mermaids existed. 

It wasn’t long after she’d sat there on her mattress that there was an incessant knocking at her door, and Crystal knew - barely a few minutes had passed - that it was her neighbour. A small glimmer of hope that it was all a dream filled her as she stumbled to her feet and tugged open the door in between the succession of knocks. Of course that hope wad crushed when she saw the peek of grey-blue scales from under the lilac sweater Gigi had thrown on, around the ankles exposed by the grey sweatpants, gold shimmer catching in the flickering hallway lights. Her long dark hair was still wet, much like the first two times they’d met, drops hitting the floor gently.

“Can I come in?” The mermaid - there was no point in denying it anymore - asked, eyes wandering down the hall nervously - probably because her scales was on display.

Crystal wondered how she could show so much skin all the other times without those slightly darker pigmented scales being as apparent as they were now. She realised that she hadn’t replied when Gigi impatiently entered, hand on the redheads shoulder pushing her back into her apartment and closing the door with the other.

“Sorry, I just,” She shifted uncomfortably, “don’t want to be seen, again.”

“No uh,” Crystal felt apologetic now, seeing Gigi’s nervous stance, making her wait anxiously in the hall, “I’m sorry too.”

It fell terribly silent, not for lack of words, but lack of where to start. Gigi was obviously there for a reason, and Crystal definitely had some minor questions.

Finally - “You can’t tell anyone,” The brunette asserted, sharp eyes narrowed seriously although she picked up a twinge of uncertainty behind them.

“That’s a given,” Crystal nodded, scratching her neck awkwardly, “I don’t know if anyone would even believe me if I wanted or did tell them, so..”

The sigh her neighbour let out then is relieved, as much as it could be in the face of her secret being revealed. Crystal wasn’t sure of the full extent of said secret, but that’s probably for the best.

“What exactly does being a fish person mean,” The tan woman asked, “for you? And me, I guess?”

The brunette stared bullets into her, expressionless for a second, before her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

She shrugged, shifting awkwardly, “Cause I’m curious?”

“Why?” Gigi repeated.

“Cause you’re Interesting?” Crystal regretted making it sounding like a question.

“I’m interesting? Because I’m a fish person?” The fish person scoffed, scratching impulsively at the scales shining near her clavicles.

“Wouldn’t you be interested if I was like,” Crystal tried to think of a strange animal, “a donkey person?” Wolf person, werewolf. She could’ve gone with werewolf.

Gigi looked utterly caught off guard, staring at the redheads face for a long moment. Crystal watched the exact moment her eyes begin to crinkle, cheeks bunching, and her pink lips parted to release a breathy laugh. It’s not what she’d expected at all, but quite welcome after the slew of things that just happened. Gigi looked pretty cute when she laughed, even if it was teasingly directed at her.

“If you must know,” The younger calmed down, taking a few breaths in and out to stop her snickers, “mermaids are mostly the upper body of a human and the lower of a fish. In my case, the tail only comes out when my legs are surrounded by a lot of water, if that makes sense.”

The redhead hummed, “So there’s like different species of mermaid then?”

“I guess?” Gigi giggled with a shrug, “Most of us have human features but ocean attributes, its rarer for the whole tail and normal head thing.”

“Wait then,” She paused, brief image of a mermaid lying seductively on a rock coming to mind, except this time it’s a fish with legs which caused her to snort with a grin, “not all fish people are actually the maneating beauties they’re said to be?”

Gigi snorted herself - admittedly much more attractively than Crystal had - shaking her head, “Of course they aren’t, that’s why mermaids are a myth.”

“And they actually live among us, eating lots of shrimp?” Crystal asked with wide eyes, suddenly wondering just how many mermaids she might’ve met in her lifetime.

The other paused, meeting her eyes once more. “Look,” she started, “you can’t take pictures underwater. Cameras and the ocean don’t mix, trust me I tried.”

“Waterproof cameras,” She deadpanned.

“They’re expensive, how long do you think it took me to save up for this apartment?” Gigi retorted, picking at her manicured nails that shimmered under deep green polish.

“Probably would’ve been faster to just save up for a waterproof camera,” Crystal hummed in return.

The mermaid huffed, rolling her eyes, “Land is way more interesting than sea.”

“Oh,” The taller perked up in curiosity, “so you’re, like, sticking around?”

Gigi grinned, “For now, thinking of becoming a photographer, you know.”

“Cool.”

A silent moment passed before Gigi seemingly remembered why she even came over, shifting back towards the door. “Anyway, uh, thank you for your silence,” she dipped her head politely, some dark brown strands of hair falling around her face. “I’ll be,” she pointed at the door, other hand wrapping around the handle, “on my way.”

“Oh uh,” Crystal reached out, pulling her hand off the door gently, “wait, would you like to, maybe, go somewhere sometime? Together?”

Gigi looked back at her with a confused frown, hand tensing in the taller woman’s grip. “Why?”

The redhead sighed, rolling her eyes, “Why else?”

“What do you mean ‘why else’?”

For a second Crystal thought Gigi was messing with her, but by the way she waited patiently for an answer she  knew she really didn’t have a clue. And honestly at this point the redhead was grateful for that, deciding not to spell it out.

“When are you next free?” She asked.

The mermaid quirked a brow in even more curiosity, “Thursday, why?”

“Okay, on Thursday I’m gonna come and get you and we’re going to go eat somewhere together,” Crystal announced, voice shaking slightly.

“Okay?” Gigi replied without missing a beat, hesitantly opening the door, “Goodbye?”

“Yep, see you Thursday!” Crystal waved, shooing her out.

The other watched her curiously all the way out the door until she shut it with finality. Alone once more, she inhaled a deep breath and let it out loudly, ringing her hands together as she tried desperately to clear her mind.

It was then that her door suddenly opened back up, startling Crystal into turning around meeting Gigi’s eyes with a gaping mouth.

“Is it gonna be a date?” She questioned, cheeks a little flushed, scales still visible.

“Y-yes” She admitted, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

Another second, and then Gigi turned and left once more with a quick “Wear something warm, it might be cold. Also I’m not paying.”

It seemed as though Crystal did have a date this Thursday. With a fish person. And she felt strangely okay with that.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAPR prt 17 full draft

"Get up!" Waking with something rudely smacking into his face, Keith groaned miserably as he peeled his sleepy dust riddled eyes open and glared at the offending object that had hit him in the face. Pants... Why in quiznak's name was he being hit in the face by a pair of pants, when his head was throbbing like a base drum and some kind of alien fur creature had set up residence in his mouth? Blinking himself to full consciousness as he yawned, Keith had no idea why he was in the bathtub, or how he'd ended up being filled with the desire to burrow back down into the bath and try for another several vargas worth of sleep. Not when the tub was so damn uncomfortable "What happened?" Trying to gather spit in his mouth, all he seemed to do was make the taste lingering there worse. His stomach was making rumbling noises, yet the mere thought of food was enough to drain the colour from your face "I'm not surprised you don't remember. You got yourself wasted doing shots with Krystaal, before sending Lance into a panic attack. He's fine, thanks for asking. Already up and at the festival with Coran. We have a Paladin panel in 15 doboshes, so time to shower and get your shit together" Groaning, Keith closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the rim of the bathtub "I'm allowed to have a drink or two" "Tell that to your pregnant husband" Now, he may just be remembering things wrong, but Lance was the one who told him to go "I'm not having this fight with you. I feel like shit" "Good. I wanted to take him out and cheer him up. Instead he ended up going to bed alone" The coldness coming from Shiro wasn't entirely unexpected. Maybe he had over indulged. It certainly felt like he had "Don't throw that back at me. You're not his husband" "No. I'm not. He was in a vulnerable..." "He's always in a vulnerable state. He had a damn nightmare and ended up in the air vents yesterday..." Hurled up out of the bathtub suddenly, Shiro dropped him. Keith barely keeping from falling over backwards "What the fuck!?" "Lance is your husband. The man you spent years in love with. The man who is absolutely crazy about you" "I know that!" "Then why aren't you getting your shit together!? You're going to be a father!" "I know!..." Screaming at Shiro, Keith's world swam. Sinking on to the edge of the bath, he buried his face in his hands "... I know. But I don't know how to be a father. I don't know how to be a father, Shiro. I don't know how to care for a baby. I don't know how to change a nappy. I don't know what to do for a fever. I don't know... I don't know what to do!" Shiro's sighed heavily as he sat down next to him "Is that what this about? You're scared about being a dad?" "Wouldn't you be? I'm a mess. I'm turning 26 and my life is a mess. My husband won't take his medication. He keeps having panic attacks. He keeps testing me without me knowing it's a goddamn test until I fail... and... Shit, Shiro. I don't know what I'm doing. We can't even make a marriage work. How do we make a marriage and kids work? What does that even look like? He lives for his job. It's more important to him than the health and safety of our babies. Maybe he was right about having an abortion? He's not well. He's not mentally well. He's not physically well. He's hallucinating or his nightmares are out of control. He's got it in his head that the same people who raped him are back. What the quiznak am I supposed to do with that? And mum... God... She made it seem like having kids was awful. Really awful. Vomiting. Fevers. Teething. Sleepless nights. Shit storms... I can't take twins on missions. I don't know how to sit still. I don't think we're ready for this. I don't think I'm ready for this... it's such a big thing. These two tiny lives are going to be dependent on us. An ex-junky as he calls himself, and a Blade member. When things get hard... Lance doesn't have that drug crutch anymore... I don't know what to do if he won't listen to the doctors. If he's not going to try. Why am I going to try?" A very long and pregnant silence hung in the air when he was finished. With each passing tick it was like Shiro was readying himself to explode, then his voice came out dead level, not relieving Keith of his anxieties "Have you tried talking to Lance?" "He doesn't want to listen. He thinks he got this letter yesterday. He thinks we're all in danger and he got mad at me for saying it was probably a nightmare. It was right after Curtis left. He was freaking out because Curtis being cautious on the other side of the door scared him. You know how he gets. You know he gets paranoid. There was no evidence of anything like that..." "It's not paranoia if someone is actually out to get you... You raised the same issue with something happening at the awards ceremony. Now that it has happened, you're rejecting it because you can't control it" "I can't control anything... I don't know what I'm doing and talking to mum only made it worse. I love him, but she... She made me see how... How far I have to go" "Rather than getting drunk with Krystaal, yes, you got drunk with Krystaal as in shot for shot, you should talk to your husband. Lance is feeling all these same anxieties. He loves you, but you're running from him. Talk to him. He might not have been up for talking yesterday, but try. Try until he doesn't have any other option but to answer. I was scared when I took you on, but we turned out alright, didn't we?" He'd gone drinking with Krystaal? Keith could very very vaguely kind of remember running into him... He'd been feeling bad about leaving Lance, but he was sure that Lance had imagined the whole thing. His husband was mad at him, and he was mad at him for being mad at him. He'd been so happy to see the twins, and now he was terrified. Absolutely and completely terrified... He didn't Lance being danger from someone new and unknown. He also didn't want their lives together to suddenly be upheaved. The twins would change everything. The twins would change everything and he didn't know how to have a family. Shiro was right, they'd done alright, but Shiro hadn't needed to wipe his arse or had to go through hours of potentially life threatening labour... "I don't want to hurt him" "You already are, by running" "Running is all I know how to do... Running after him. Running into battle. Running after you" "It take two to make a baby, or twins in this case. There are thousands and thousands of people out there who can never have what you two are going through. Don't take any of it for granted. If you're scared, or if you don't want this, you need to talk to him. You need to let him know where you stand. And you need a shower. You reek like you bathed in that stuff you were shooting. We've probably got about 5 doboshes to be there. Best get a move on" * Running to make the panel on time, Keith and Shiro we're both confused by the sight before them. There were five chairs, for five Paladins, except... in the place of Allura a photo of her sat, occupying one of those spaces. Behind the chairs was a series of banners featuring the faces of the Paladins framed by a thick band of colour responding to the lion they flew. Black for Shiro. Black and Red for Keith. Yellow for Hunk, then Green for Pidge. Allura was in the place of the Blue Paladin... and no signage for Lance. None... It wasn't Voltron without Lance. Lance was the heart and soul of Voltron. They'd never come together if not for him. Joining Hunk, Pidge and Lance, Coran was a few feet away yelling at some event coordinator who'd failed their job over the lack of Lance's presence. At least that was what Keith thought at the time. Opening his mouth to greet his husband, Lance seemed to have prempted the move as he'd disappeared over to Coran's side silently. Elbowing him, Pidge had mischief in her eyes "I hear someone got drunk yesterday" "Shut it, Pidge" "Oooh. Touchy. Yelling about how you and Lance were married... Galactic social media is buzzing with it" Keith frowned at Pidge. If he was yelling how much he loved Lance, or was married to him, then why was he so mad at him "I did what?" "Yep. Right in the middle of your drinking match. You lost me GAC. I expect you to pay up" "You were betting on me?" "I would have put all my GAC on Lance, but he wasn't there to bet on" "Whoa! Hold up. You would have bet on Lance? I'm so confused right now" Pidge rolled her eyes at him with enough sass that the eyeroll didn't seem limited to her eyes alone "Lance works in bar! How many times do you think his customers challenged him to drinks!? How many times has he partied himself to sleep? You can't work in a bar and be a light weight!" "I tried to tell her that Lance doesn't drink that much anymore, but Lance sided with her. Are you ok, man?" Joining in on their conversations, Hunk ignored Pidge nodding enthusiastically, most probably because Lance had agreed, or so he gathered by her gesturing to Lance "I'm fine. I have no idea what we were drinking, but it wasn't that all pleasant to wake up to. Why is there no place for Lance?" Hunk sighed "Lance said that Allura should be on the panel, as it was her sacrifice that saved us all. He said he didn't need a place, but Coran wouldn't let him back down from this. Now they're trying to make a spot for him, despite the fact he doesn't want to be here" Playing it cool, Keith raised his eyebrow, hoping to make the action seem natural "Did he say that?" "Not in so many words... I thought he liked his time being a Paladin..." "That's stupid. He's obviously having too much fun being a bounty hunter. Plus, he's probably struggling with this whole situation. I mean, this is a festival to celebrate his dead girlfriend" Hunk gaped at Pidge, his face loosing some of its colours as his cheeks turned a faint pink "Pidge! You can't say that in front of Keith, he's his husband" Shrugging, Pidge wasn't fazed "Minor detail" "No. No. No. Major detail!" "Keith isn't complaining" "Because Keith loves him. Right, buddy?" "Yeah..." Keith didn't want to be roped into this argument. Pidge started laughing, the noise grating on his throbbing head, her arms wrapped around her waist as she struggled out "You could sound more enthused! What? Trouble in paradise? Are you in the doghouse for getting drunk without him?!" "Ok, guys. That's enough..." By standing behind him, and placing his hands on Keith's shoulders, Shiro drew their attention "We're here to be Paladins, which means putting our game faces on. Do we have any details of what were actually doing? Coran forgot to fill us all in..." Pidge pulled herself together, sounding almost disinterested as she related "He forgot to tell all of this. They ran a "question" box for us the past couple of days. We're going to be given a tablet with questions for each of us on it. We don't have to answer all the questions, buuuuut it's going to be broadcast live across the universe. I've got Matt filming it. I can't wait to see how Keith acts with all this attention" Crossing his arms, Keith scowled at Pidge "I know how to do my job" "Just because you know how to, doesn't mean you won't be awkward as hell..." "Pidge, why do I feel like you've bet GAC on my performance" "Because I have. Ooooh, look. It's Lance and Coran. What a convenient excuse not to continue this conversation" "Pidge!" Pidge was the picture of innocence as Coran and Lance joined them. Lance standing half behind Hunk, refusing to meet Keith's eyes, as Coran filled them in on what was happening. Space had been made for Lance, by squashing them all slightly. The table was made for 5, not for 6. Lance wouldn't hear of Shiro not being on the panel, despite the fact that Keith had ultimately spent more time as the Black Paladin than Shiro had. Before he was ready, Keith was falling into line with the others, a holopad pushed into his shaky hands then the next thing he knew he was walking on to the stage where camera flashes blinded him. Panels were horrible. Panels were horrible enough when sober, doubly so when hung over, and triply so when your husband was sitting beneath a photo of his dead ex-girlfriend, at the opposite end of the panel where he had no chance of talking to him. They were married. They were married and the whole quiznakking universe knew it... So why weren't the happily married couple together? Lance didn't seem to mind. All of their group were already laughing and deep in a four way conversation that had gone right over his head. Keith was out his depth completely. He had no idea that their questions were being screened behind them as they answered, he had no idea that the question time had hit him, and he had no idea of the words on his holopad were actually English because his eyes felt ready to fall out his head. In his own way, Keith was developing a new appreciation for functioning alcoholics. * Keith was in trouble. With the eyes of thousands staring in the direction of his husband, several long ticks had passed since Keith's holopad had started to glow around the sides. Sitting in front of a crowd and answering questions was not how Lance planned his day going. He wanted to sit down and discuss what had happened the previous day with his husband. That was the only way he was going to find some form of mental relief from his racing mind. Despite feeling angry each time his gaze moved to his husband, Lance cleared his throat "Sorry, guys! My husband isn't great with crowds, but that's just something else about him that I love. Now, his question is..." Craning his head back to read the question he made a goofy show of it. It was probably for the best Keith wasn't on the ball "What was the worst part of being a Paladin?" Moving his right thumb and pointer to his chin as if stroking an imaginary beard, Lance hummed. He loathed this attention. He loathed playing at niceties, but knew he had a job to do. He Lance playing Leandro, who was playing Lance. It was the only way he could cope with the public spotlight "The worst thing... Oh, boy! Coran's cooking... the first time he cooked for is... I thought he was trying to kill me! Then there's the time in the middle of the night when Allura would run practice emergency drills... I guess the worst thing of all is that despite Allura's sacrifice, the fact that if she hadn't given her life none of us would be here right now... The worst thing is that we're still fighting while we're trying to recover. And all the little people we couldn't reach in time... but when living on the Castle, it was definitely the time Coran tried to cook for us. I'm sorry Coran! You're our awesome adopted Uncle, but us humans have a weird diet... I think we all would have gone crazy if it wasn't for Hunk's culinary prowess" Flashing the crowd his best smile and finger guns, Lance hoped he'd done enough. Pidge was agreeing now, Keith's holopad was no longer glowing, Shiro leaned back to give him an approving nod, and Hunk was blushing. Reminding himself that each question moved them closer to the end, he looked down to his own holopad. After half a varga, they were all sweating. Pidge was being an angry little gremlin, at the point of threatening to murder the sun because she was done with this heat. Everyone knew the best way to store their little anger muffin was to sit her in a cool dark corner with her tech. Lance was feeling it too. His head felt sinus headache gross, his body suit might keep him cool for the most part, but worked best when his mask was up, which it wasn't, so the rest of him wasn't feeling that great either. No matter how much water he'd drank down, he only felt more and more dehydrated. Feeling his holopad grow warmer as it started to glow, he nearly dropped the device on the table as he vomiting into his mouth. His question being "How did it feel to work for Ambassador Klearo? What do you do now?". It was a simple question. Any number of fans would have seen the broadcasts of him standing behind the man. It didn't mean that he wasn't panicking. It didn't mean simply seeing the image of the man didn't bring all the memories flying back. Lance couldn't do this... Leandro... Channel Leandro "Well..." God. His heart was hammering so fast it felt as if it was going to flying out his mouth "I own a club now, out on Erathus. It's pretty nice there, and safe. The place is called "The Gilded Cage"... We wanted to create a safe place for travellers in the area. My friend Th'al runs it... Um... other than that... I'm Keith's husband and it's pretty much a full time job keeping up with him... it's simple and nice" That funny feeling was spreading through him. His holopad cooled as the colour left. Thumbing through the message list, every message submitted was listed, then chosen at random. That one message soon turned to half a dozen... of Klearo... and the look on Lance's face as the abuse had begun. The fear in his eyes. The disgust. The loathing of every piece of bullshit sprouted from the piece of shits mouth. Then blank emptiness. The change in his expression was almost haunting. It was as if you could see the time it crossed the line. When his whole being had shattered beneath the man, and the men who'd sexually abused him. As he scrolled up, in the hopes of finding evidence that he was being targeted, blood dripped onto the screen. Wiping at it, a second drip landed on his finger. Raising his hand to his nose, drops of blood rolled down his fingers. The holopad falling from his fingers to land on the table, the screen glitching before turning black. "Lan..." Starting to say his name, Pidge realised his nose was bleeding. The woman fishing out a handkerchief from nowhere and pushing it up against his nose so hard Lance was actually pained by the action. Sitting next to him, it was only natural she'd notice. She'd no doubt been caught in a cloud of his stenched up emotional scent, causing her to be more focused on her surrounds "Sorry folks! Even us Paladins are only human! How about this heat!?" Covering for him, Lance was immediately grateful to Pidge, she didn't need to whisper to him to get out of there as she put herself out her comfort zone, it went unsaid like a silent agreement, Lance hightailing it off stage and straight into Coran's waiting embrace. Led away from the stage, and into the background work space where the transmission was being monitored, Coran sat him down on a flimsy fold out chair, forcing his head down between his knees as his nose bleed steadily worsened "One tick my boy. I do believe you're the one who taught me that trick with the cold compress" Lance didn't think that placing a cold compress on the back of the neck was much of a trick, but with how overheated he felt, he'd take a cool anything right now. It was strange how he'd longed to feel something more than cold all the time, his condition had forced him to pay constant attention to his body. Knowing that even if he couldn't feel the effects of the heat internally, the rest of him could. It was like his soul had been frozen, then disconnected from his body, causing a strange disharmony between the pair. It was another reason he'd found himself wondering, more than once, if he was a clone. Returning with a cold bottle of water, Coran held it against his nape. Lance shuddering as his body rejected the cool relief it offered "How's that?" Lying smoothly, Lance nodded "Better..." "Ah... We'll give it a tick to kick in. I'm sorry about what happened out there, my boy. We left the questions open..." "Coran..." There was a gentle plea in his voice "You're right. Perhaps now isn't the time" Now wasn't the time. Never was the time. Those memories were fucking with his head enough. What he saw as clear evidence between the photos he was sent, and the messages on the holopad, he feared bringing up with anyone. As he'd reasoned, the others would too. A fan could have meant no offence, though a fan wouldn't have sent as many messages as they'd had. Hopefully when he had the holopad back in his hands, he could prove to his husband he hadn't been lying... Not that he should have to... No. No. He wasn't going there. He'd briefly bumped into Krolia who'd apologised for Keith's drunken behaviour, explaining how she and Keith had had the "baby talk", and explaining how Keith felt displaced by her coming child. Lance didn't need the talk to know that. It was hard for Keith. Keith didn't know what or how to deal with it. Still. He knew from personal experience that alcohol wasn't the answer. Not that he would turn down a stiff drink, or a dozen right about now. Opening his mouth to reply to Coran, Lance was on the ground before he knew what happened. One tick he was there, feeling quiznak, the next Coran's face was peering into his and Lance felt as if something had zapped every ounce of energy from his body. Neither of them had thought about the sudden and drastic change in body temperature triggering a seizure. Tasting vomit and blood, he wished that was the end when it came to bodily fluids, only... down his legs was wet and cool. His suit catching the mess he'd made, while he'd been out of it long enough for his piss to cool. Blinking sleepily at Coran, Coran smiled softly at him as he tucked a stray hair back from Lance's face. This wasn't the first, second or third time he'd thrown up. The first and second because of his pregnancy, the third because he'd worked himself up simply opening his medication bottle "Seizure?" Slurring heavily, Lance's voice failed to reach his own ears "Yes, my boy. A little over 45 ticks... Keith will be here soon" Coran sounded like he was speaking through fog. He was kind of blurry. His neat orange hair blurred like a fire on his head "Sorry..." "Enough of that... rest..." He didn't want to rest. He was ashamed of his body betraying him in a tent full of strangers. It didn't matter that they were towards the back, mostly out of the way. He was supposed to be a Paladin, which meant staying stronger and never letting the public see your weak side. His mind might have felt like a sludge sundae, but his thoughts had to get that final blow in. * "What kind of an idiot puts something ice cold against their skin when they overheat! You're lucky your heart didn't stop!" Cleaned up by Shiro and Keith, mostly Keith with Shiro's support, Pidge was the first to scold him as she and Hunk joined them in his and Keith's room. Laying with a cold towel folded over his forehead, Lance had agreed he was an idiot in a series of "mhmm" and "uh huh" until she finally ran out of appropriate questions. Shiro stopped her when she started to tease he and Keith, and given he was tired and somewhat sooky, he didn't feel like admitting how nice it felt to have Keith holding his hand. Having spent the last half varga chilling, Lance was ready for a nap, but Pidge and Hunk had decided that hanging around and scolding him needed to morph into a group hang. So Lance contented himself holding Keith's hand, and feeling Shiro's solid presence on the other side of him. There was a feeling that he'd forgotten something, but for now he was happish... or okish... scared, yet safe. Everyone in the room with him knew he was deeply scared by Klearo, each of them in their own trying to be there for him without making it too obvious. When Kosmo teleported into their room with a bark, his fur son decided that the best way to greet them all was to let out the most horrendous silent fart, that sent Pidge and Hunk scrambling off the bed as they gagged. Pulling the wet towel over his face did very little to diminish the stink as Keith echoed the others movements and deserted him. The loss of his hand felt immediately. Whimpering at the connection between him and husband being broken, Shiro stuck his hand under the towel and pinched his nose as if Lance wasn't perfectly capable of doing so himself. Dimly he could hear Keith scolding Kosmo, Pidge laughing and Hunk still gagging. Yet they all felt so far away from him that he and Shiro may as well have been stranded on an island. Kosmo, immune to his own stench, laid happily over Lance's legs. His tail thumping in time with the throbbing of Lance'd head. Unable to stank the stink, Pidge and Hunk only lasted a few moments before opting to bail, Lance deaf to their leaving as he was hyperfixating on the feeling of Shiro's hand against his nose. His trauma well aware that a hand to the nose meant soon water would be poured down his throat until he nearly drowned, or did and they were forced to revive him. He was starting to panic, his body too sleepy and leaden to fight off the man's hand, his hands weakly gripping at the sheets beneath him. Gasping like a reeled in fish, his body finally decided it had reached its limit, allowing him to pass out. * The moment Lance's gasping met Keith's ears, the half-Galra was abandoning his futile attempts to scold Kosmo over the fart bomb he'd dropped, and rushing to pull the towel from Lance's face. Who needed Lions or Bayards, when your cosmic wolf could clear a room with just a simple fart. As Shiro released Lance's nose, Lance lay deathly still, his chest barely rising as Keith held his hand above Lance mouth to check his husband was still breathing "Keith?" "Shut up..." With a gentle exhale, an inhale didn't follow. Keith placing his head against Lance's chest to find it wasn't rising "Fuck! Don't you dare, you stubborn arsehole" Lance was vulnerable. He was vulnerable and Keith hadn't thought that Shiro's touch would send his husband into a panic. Not with the way Shiro was sitting right next to him as if he rightfully belonged there. Not with the way Shiro had supported Lance's weight while Keith peeled off the layer of his husband's clothes then wrestled him out his stupid body suit. Lance was so out of it, he wasn't sure that Lance had any physical strength to protect himself, and usually when in that state would only allow him to touch him, yet his husband didn't seem to care he was naked in front of Shiro. He didn't shy away from Shiro's supportive hand on his hip. No. His husband had leaned into Shiro's touch, sending bitter jealously blooming. He was the only one who was allowed to touch Lance's body. Him. Lance had said so. And despite Shiro being happily in love with Curtis, Keith couldn't barely keep down his instincts. He could barely keep himself from taking a swing at his own brother. Lance had ignored him all morning, then Coran had sent some aid rushing to tell him that Lance had had a seizure. By the time he'd gotten off the stage, and down to communications tent, his husband was slurring as Coran reassured him. Blood and vomit were across Lance's fair and hair. His eyes glassy and unfocused. Pidge being the genius she was, had been the one to realise it was the temperature change that had triggered it, yet they all know seeing Klearo again had hit Lance hard. Each of them hated him in varying degrees, but none as much as him. He'd been all for it when Pidge angrily grumbled about hacking the holopad Lance had been using to find out who had sent that photo in, only when the holopad had been retrieved, it'd fallen wrong against the table and fried the memory chip in it. Ropeable, and concerned for Lance, they'd all kind of felt like being there by his side, even if he was sleeping off the effects of his seizure. Interlacing his fingers, Keith pumped down on Lance's chest, Shiro springing into action when he realised Lance wasn't breathing, moving to give Keith the space to work. Keith gave a dozen panic driven pushes before Lance sucked in a breath, his back arching as his marks glowed brightly. Gasping and coughing, Shiro helped Keith sit Lance up, Lance shaking as Keith grabbed him by the chin "Lance?!" "Mnmm?" "Keith, maybe you should give him some space to breathe?" "Don't tell me how to handle my husband!" Snapping at Shiro caused Lance to whine. Keith feeling like a dick for it the moment the words came out his mouth. But... quiznak! "Sorry. Sorry... something scared him so badly he couldn't breathe..." "It must have been my hand over his face... when Kosmo farted" Shiro looked exactly as Keith felt. His face devoid of colour, and clouded with guilt. Guiding Lance into his lap, Shiro helped getting Lance straddled with his nose against Keith's neck. His favourite secure position "That with having Klearo shoved in his face... Shiro, was I wrong? Did someone send him those photos? someone actually after him again?" "I don't know. I know he was scared and hurt that you didn't believe him" "We keep... not connecting..." "Getting drunk and bottling it up like an idiot will do that. When he comes too properly, talk it out. Or if you still need time to think things out, we can watch him again..." "I don't know... I don't know how to be a dad. I though we'd have more time" "No one's ready to be a parent. And it's not as if these are usual circumstances. He'll listen" "I know he will... that's the problem isn't it. If I repeated anything I said this morning, he's going to bolt" "At least he wouldn't be stuck wondering about how you feel and if you still want this marriage" Keith held his tongue. He still loved Lance. Lance was the air to his lungs... but Lance, kids, and work... He didn't know how to juggle it all. Getting a few vargas sleep with Lance still in his lap, Keith woke with a start. His thoughts spilling into his dream, his mind tormenting him over everything he stood to lose. Starving and thirsty, Keith was surprised to find Lance awake as he carefully untangled his husband's hold on him. The moment their eyes met, things felt all that more awkward between them "I'm... I'm going to get us something to eat, and a drink. Then I think we need to talk" Climbing out his lap, Lance nodded. Settling himself into a ball on Keith's side of the bed, his husband rested his chin on his knees, his voice soft "I'm leaving" Opening his mouth, Keith closed it just as quickly before giving a half shake of his head. Lance wanted to leave? Walk out on their chance to talk? Or... was there something more to this? "Stay here for a tick" To Keith it felt as if Lance was watching his every move as he grabbed up a couple of ration bars, and two glasses of water. Returning to their bed, Lance was at least willing to take the ration bars from him. His glass of balanced near his bare feet. Opening the ration bar, Lance tore off the end with his teeth, eating quietly and ignoring the way Keith watched him. Sighing to himself, Keith did the same, forcing himself to eat half the tasteless bar. They weren't that great, but it wasn't goo "I think we need time apart to think" Dropping those words with dead calm, Lance stole his breath "I think there's some things you need to work out, and I don't want to be on Altea anymore. I talked a little with Krolia. I wish it'd been you who'd explained to me what happened between you and her. Kids. Hey. I get it. It's a huge thing. I can't concentrate on them, me, and walk on nails around our friends. I'm tired of yoyoing more than I was when I was alone. I'm going to ask Krolia to lend me a ship and head to the next training planet" "I know we haven't been connecting... but we just haven't had the chance. You spent most of yesterday sleeping!" Quiznak. He sounded far more accusatory than he meant to "And you spent it getting drunk..." "Only because you were testing me! I don't know how it turned so shit so fast!" "I wasn't trying to test you. I reached out and you made me feel stupid. I'm going to give you a chance to think. About what you absolutely truly want. Me. Me and the twins. If you want to take the out. My head is a mess. I don't want to be here. You're still wanted here. You still have things to work out. You should take the time to think it through" "Don't I get a say? You had a seizure, then a panic attack so severe you stopped breathing. I have to pump your chest until you finally took a breath... We've only been here a few days. You're not taking your medication..." "No. I've been forcing myself to drink enough water that I go to sleep needing to pee and wake up nearly wetting myself. I've been scoffing down these bars because they're like the only thing I don't throw up. So don't say I'm not trying. You knew I messed up, you told me I could trust you. You made me trust you. And I thought you actually saw me. Now I don't want to fight. I want to think. You don't think I'm scared? I know all the risks with pregnancies because I come from a huge family. It doesn't get that big without things happening... I'll keep your twins safe until you make a choice. I don't know how to be a dad. A little brother and an uncle. A drunk and druggie. I've got that covered. A dad. A mother. I don't know what to call myself other a freak. You make the choice. I can't trust myself anymore, apparently" The last part was definitely a jab at him. It was the only part where Lance's voice had held any emotion. His husband sounded like Leandro. Leandro when they'd first crossed paths again "That's not what I want" "Then what do you want?" "I don't know" Lance sighed "Exactly. We have all this festival stuff happening while trying to fix this mess of a marriage. I hate being in the crowds. I hated being on the panel. I..." Lance frowned as his sentence stopped abruptly "You, what?" "I... no. It's better I talk to Shiro. You should enjoy the festival" "What can you say to Shiro, that you can't say to me!?" "I don't know what I can say to you anymore. I love you. I love you more than anything, but that doesn't fix our marriage. I know you're stuck lying to everyone because of me again... I don't want to be a burden on you... but I'm scared. Everything that makes us "us", is going to change. I'm scared. I don't want a life of just... just sex... sleep... eating... and what? I don't know how to settle down anymore. I thought... I thought us having our own home would... we would have... That we'd be together more than we were. I don't know where we're going to live... I'm such a fucking screw up... I can't even keep my husband happy... I was proud... maybe that was it. I was proud of our room and our space. I tried my hardest to make it as relaxing as I could for you. I wanted you to feel at home, but you don't" Lance wiped at his face, Keith biting the insides of his cheeks. It was his fault. He hadn't spoken up to his mother. He'd thought himself capable of handling everything. He'd thought himself agitated and annoyed, yet he hadn't sought his mother out sooner. He hadn't sat down with her and asked his hours to be cut or to be rotated off the training roster. Even when he thought about it, or grumbled, he hadn't sat down with Krolia and said it sooner. Maybe that had been his pride? Krolia kept giving him work because she was proud of him. It seemed to him that their combined pride had led to things winding up as they had. "Let me come with you. We can go ahead. We can figure out how we're going to conduct our training exercise. Krolia doesn't really tell us about the planet... so we could think up something before the others come?" Lance sighed at him "That's not going to work" "Why not?! Things only became complicated because of the others. We didn't see them the day of our date... and I thought we had good time?" "You were practically high on seeing your twins for the first time. Being responsible for these two lives hadn't sunk in... I think it was... it was the best day of my life. You're so quiznakking sweet to me. You treat me amazingly... then... you get stuck in your own head. It wasn't my... I was not trying to test, or you drive you to drink with Krystaal. I wanted to cuddle without talking seriously... I wanted you to tell me how things went with Krolia... I want you to be able to rely on me, Keith. I know my seizures have been hitting frequently, but... sometimes they don't hit for weeks..." Of course he was high on seeing their twins. Their tiny little noses. Their tiny hands. Their tiny bodies. Their children. Half him. Half Lance... They were barely more than a bunch of cells caused by their lack of sense with contraceptives. But... would they even survive if Lance kept having seizures? "The pills would help with that" "I can't, ok! I know they're not the same, but thinking about them... I can't! I'm eating these bars. I'm forcing myself to keep eating!" Holding his hands up in surrender, Keith knew he should have expected the backlash "Right. Fine. I'm sorry for worrying. Did you at least eat last night? How did you know I was drinking?" "Shiro, Curtis, and I had a pizza and beer night. Shiro was trying to make me happy, so we were going out for drinks. He wanted to invite both of us to celebrate his win, but couldn't find you. He made me get dressed up. Anyway, Curtis was waiting outside the tent you were drinking in. I had a panic attack, then begged Curtis to go grab beer and pizza, we came back to their room and watched his win while you slept in their bathtub" "I don't remember that" Opening his second ration bar, Lance nodded "I'm not surprised. You were going shot for shot with Krystaal. I don't know what you were drinking, but when you saw me you started yelling about me being your husband, then got kind of mad... not mad, annoyed? when I was panicking... This is why... This is why I think we should take a few days apart. That way you can get your thinking straight" Now they were back on that... He didn't want to leave Lance alone. He only needed... a few vargas... "I know I quiznakked up... but... we're supposed to be talking this out!" Lance wasn't one to talk with a mouthful, yet the way he was tearing into the ration bar, his husband had seemingly forgotten swallowing and chewing was a thing "Keith, I can smell the confusion on you! You smelt of fucking rejection yesterday. I've already got a plan for the next planet. Krolia will ok it once we talk it out. I'll be there for like 4 quintants..." "You'll be alone! I get that you don't want to be a... that you don't want an easy life or whatever, but what if... What if you get so scared that you stop breathing again? Then what? I can't fucking lose you, you idiot! No. You're not going alone" Lance had stopped fucking breathing! He'd needed CPR! Now he was sitting there, filling his face and acting like him nearly dying was a perfectly acceptable thing! Like quiznak he was letting his husband do something silly and dangerous without him... In order to be two halves of the same idiot, both idiots needed to be present. Besides. With everyone filling his head with so much information, hadn't it occurred to Lance that maybe Keith needed a break from everyone? Krolia had given him the baby talk. Shiro's was telling him to talk to Lance, but not to, then to. Lance was still melting down. His husband had even had to cover him at the panel. Surely he'd fulfilled a centuries worth of Paladin duties sitting there under the sun. He'd even gotten sunburnt for his troubles. Fiddling nervously with the ration bar wrapper, Lance talked to his hands "Keith. How are you supposed to think things through between us, if I'm there with you?" "You said you had plans for the next planet... if I put you in charge of the training exercise... you and Kosmo can set it up or whatever. I promise I won't interfere... I'll stay back... just... I feel like if you leave right now, it's only going to get worse between us... I don't want to lose you, but... you're right. I am kind of freaking out over it all. Kids... I know we're not the same kids that were sent into space, but when I think about being 27... I don't feel my age..." "And you think I feel 24? I still remember everything that happened like it was yesterday... all of it. That's why... I need to go" They lost three years to the void, and he was gone for two with his mother. 6 phoebs had been all it took for Voltron to nearly break. For Lance to break... All their time together had failed to keep Lance sustained through his absence. Then there was Kuron, who'd physically harmed Lance... Pidge and Hunk who'd abandoned him. Lotor who'd weaselled his way in... Lance might have made peace with them, but he still hadn't made peace with his memories. "We'll go together. The three of us. You, me, and Kosmo. We'll work it out together. It'll be like a family camping trip..." "Keith..." Lance was wavering. Lance was wavering and he could see it! "You can boss me around. Whatever. As long as I'm with you, I can do anything..." "That's not fair..." "I don't care if it's not fair. Just don't leave me behind" Lance sighed deeply, flopping back on the bed and spilling his glass of water everywhere as he did. Groaning as he craned his neck to to stare at the reason why his feet were wet "Fiiiine. Dios. I'm an idiot for agreeing, and you better do what I say. No arguments. I have a plan to fix your team work and individual skills, and I won't let you stop me. Don't treat me differently. I'm fucking pregnant, not dying. Don't forget the difference. And do not think for one quiznakking moment that I will not have Kosmo teleport you to the other side of the planet if you get in my way. Plus. You're sleeping in the wet spot... and don't even think about touching me until I give you permission. I'm still hurting, and I'm still livid at you" "Ok..." "So you better figure out the hell is going on with you, and you better stay away from me until you do. I'm going back to sleep. I want to get a few vargas before your kids have me on the bathroom floor again" Keith hadn't taken into account Lance's morning sickness, but it was just another reason for Lance not to be left alone "I..." "Don't. Not until you've done the think" There was no mistaking that. Keith may have just won the battle, but Lance... Lance was the the final boss and he had a long long quest chain to go...

[kitschcats]

I Don’t Know How to Title My Posts

You know, the thing about writing is that you’re never quite sure where to begin. You can have all these pent-up ideas buzzing around the inside of your head, banging at the walls and demanding to be let out. But you can just as easily be at a loss for how.

Luckily, through the power of word vomit and occasional use of the backspace key, I managed to get that last paragraph down and into words. And hopefully that’s what I will continue to be doing for the entirety of the rest of this post.

As of writing this it is 2:27 PM. I had a breakfast of 6 slices of buttered toast (if you can do it with pancakes, then why not toast?) earlier, accompanied by the same book I’ve been reading for the last month. I know, a month? Younger me would have been horrified. She could bulldoze through all seven books of Harry Potter within a week--Order of the Phoenix included. My mum chides me for it too, but she knows that I am, at the very least, reading again. And no matter how long you take, you’re still reading. (I think she’s guilty of the same, too.)

I used to tell her I didn’t have time to read (yes, I know) and she told me off for it. At the time I felt that was unnecessary, but looking back I now agree with her wholeheartedly. You make time to read, and even if you try your damnedest and just can’t seem to squeeze a minute of reading in between the blocks of class and work and sleep in your daily schedule, there’s still a few golden minutes of the day left you can cram a few pages of a book into--over a meal. (On the train, too, of course. It’s why I don’t dread my daily commute as much anymore--it’s precious reading time. Bright side of things, right?) It’s what I do every day. Granted, not every meal, but every day at least, whenever I’m staying in to eat. I grab my copy of Tom Robbins from its permanent spot on the dining table (where it’s also most convenient, because I wouldn’t be reaching for it any other time nor anywhere else), and read, the book wide-open and its spine stretched, standing up balanced against the edge of my plate. French music plays in the background.

(I should really remember to take pictures of these. In my next entry, I hope.)

One of these days, I hope to be implementing a lot of the books I’m reading and plan to read into this blog in some way--reviews of each one after I’m finished, maybe, and maybe I’ll compile them all into one big masterlist to which I regularly update. That would be nice. A little hint on what I’m reading: immortality, time-shifting, and perfume.

My to-do list:

write this post

update my theme (finally something I’m happy with)

do some studying (history/geo, because their papers are closest lol)

past years (if only I could strike this through)

brush up on my Japanese today, do a little more katakana practice (and try out Memrise, because Duolingo sucks)

refresh emails religiously (AFS will be the death of me)

Speaking of AFS--yeah. This all-expenses-covered 6 month exchange to Japan that I applied for sometime ago, back in September. I think about it when I first wake up and rush to my inbox, when I’m in the shower, when I’m lying in bed at night and can’t sleep--needless to say, I really want to go. I have been wanting to, for the longest time. Results are finally on their way now, but they’re announcing shortlisted candidates for the interviews state-by-state and they are taking an excruciatingly conveniently long time to get to mine, being Damansara (they split KL/Selangor into four chapters, can you imagine the sort of competition?).  They’ve been at it since yesterday, and I, like everyone else, thought they’d have been done with it yesterday, but it looks like they’re continuing it well into the next day (being today). And they were doing it with regular intervals of about a couple minutes in-between up until midway through, alright, and they were going in geographic order until they decided to stop the pattern ////right//// before my state was due, and now I have no idea whether I should be looking out for the next post, or the one after, or the one after. Nor do I know when.

Not to be dramatic, but this could very well be one of the most torturous experiences I have ever had the misfortune to be put through. But hey, it’ll all have been worth it if I see my name on the list, wouldn’t it? 

(If.)

On a happier note, I may be heading out later tonight am heading out later tonight to catch a free screening of The Killing of a Sacred Deer--Lanthimos movie. I’ve been meaning to see The Lobster for a while--a moment of silence for all the poor, unwatched movies on my watchlist on Letterboxd, all steadily collecting metaphysical dust--but I’ve just never gotten around to it. Shame, too, it was showing last night, but I only found out about this place this very afternoon. (Thank you, Facebook.)

So a lot has happened since I saved this as a draft and got up to once again face the real world, interrupting my train of thought mid-blog against my will--some errands were run, dinner was made (bolognese, and over some 10 pages of my book, of course), and very spontaneous plans were agreed to (hence the strikethrough of the maybe earlier). I met with an old friend for some catch-up over the movie. (The power of Instagram stories and a simple-but-effective ‘someone teman pls’, right?)

I'm writing this now from a front-row sofa in a quaint little top-floor bar, projector ahead of me and warm bowl of popcorn ready, a hidden gem among shoplots in the midst of Taman Desa, and it is 8:47 PM. Free screenings every Friday and Saturday? Needless to say, I'm certainly coming back. In time as a regular, I hope. (They even played Kubrick the other night--The Shining!)

The movie starts in 4 minutes. Expect a review soon.

What I'm listening to (courtesy of the bar's playlist): okay, no song today. I tried to get Adam to Shazam what was playing, but no luck--nothing came up. (And I forgot to ask about a playlist on spotify on my way out I am a FOOL next show!)

[lindoig8]

Thursday to Sunday, 15-17 July

Thursday

Today has been a recovery day. We had to do a bit of shopping, but spent most of the day around the van catching up on minor maintenance, refilling our water tanks, a bit of cleaning, hand washing and so on – but that was about all.

Friday

The morning was a bit like yesterday, but we had booked a 1.00pm mine tour so had an early lunch and arrived at the Information Centre by 12.45pm as required. There are a few ‘attractions’ there: a mining display, a fossil discovery centre and the start of the mine tour among others. In due course, we were collected and, after kitting up with hard hats and headlamps, bright orange paper coveralls and wellington boots, we walked across campus to a huge workshop with all sorts of mining equipment and machines for an introductory session. The whole tour is in a fabricated mine that is set up exactly as in the nearby real-life mines, all using identical machines and equipment in a series of seemingly genuine drives. We walked from drive to drive and experienced things very much as the miners did just a few years ago. We were all allowed to operate one of the original deafening drills (but it just went into an existing hole rather than us doing any real drilling) and some of the other equipment was demonstrated for us. The volunteer guide was very knowledgeable, having been a miner for many years and he was able to answer most of our questions. (There were 2 guys in our group who obviously had some mining experience and were frequently trying to trip him up with obscure questions and comments.) The tour ended in the crib room with tea, coffee and muffins – and a simulated blast: a recorded real blast and it was certainly impressive with things rattling and lots of noise, but fortunately no dust.

The whole tour took over 4 hours and I thought it very worthwhile. It was quite realistic even if we were only about 30 metres underground and there was certainly a lot of information and a bit of hands-on stuff too. We tend not to do many of these ‘touristy’ things, but I am glad we did this one.

After the tour was finished, we had a little more shopping to do – just a few items – and I topped up our fuel before leaving town again tomorrow.

It was quite a hot day and we were very uncomfortable by the time we got back to the van so really enjoyed our Happy Hour with ice-cold drinks under the air conditioner.

Saturday

We did something quite out of character for us today and really enjoyed it.

Our friends from Melbourne (Dallas and Brendon), who we might have seen had we stayed at the Burke and Wills Roadhouse a couple of nights ago, were going to Cloncurry to attend the Cloncurry Cattle Draft and Rodeo and they posted something on Facebook about how good it was - so we decided to zap down there for the last day.

We arrived a bit after 11am and set up near their rig, just in time to head to the grand parade. Entry and camping was free and it was a lot of fun. We took our lunch from the van and strolled across and watched the dry events all afternoon. We moved from that arena to the other one for some wet events later in the day. Did you know that ‘dry events’ are those involving only horse and rider, whereas ‘wet events’ mean they are herding cattle - or other events involving other animals? You live and learn!

We bought our dinner from one of the two big food vans there - the meals were huge and neither of us could finish ours - one between us would have been more than enough.

There was a rodeo at night back in the dry arena with three competitions. Wild bull riding, and two buck jumping events with a very loud concert to follow. We returned to the van before the concert started but it was VERY loud and kept us awake until 1.30am, even though we were a few hundred metres away.

As I said, it is not the sort of thing we would normally do, but it was great to catch up with Dallas and BJ and the whole thing was a lot of fun – so much so that we have now arranged to go to a Country Music Festival in Hughenden in a couple of weeks’ time.

Sunday

We were up reasonably early today and packed up, said goodbye to Dallas and BJ, and set off for Dajarra, about 200 kms away. The road was pretty rough, especially the second part after the old mining centre of Duchess. Duchess was once a thriving centre but is now reduced to just an interesting old country pub with a population of 2 – the publican and his wife. We stopped in for a drink and a chat with them and a couple of fellow drop-ins like us. It was great to chat with them and hear about some of the early history of the area – we love stopping in for a coldie at these long-lost and near-forgotten country pubs. Then we went on to Dajarra, essentially an aboriginal settlement with a free camping area and fuel outlet.

It is not much to look at now but at one time, Dajarra was the world’s busiest cattle railhead – bigger and busier even than Abilene in the US! Hard to believe, but there are so many places that now seem abandoned and desolate that were once major cities in their own right. (We have seen quite a few of them and thinking about this reminded me that the single street of 20 or so buildings in Coolgardie where I lived for a while as a kid, once hosted more than 10,000 miners’ tents, many supporting wives and families in what is now just a forlorn scrubby hillside behind the ‘town’.) We had a drive around town and saw a school and a general store, but there was absolutely nothing to make them look inviting to us whities.

The camping area had good toilets and showers but despite having parking for maybe 50 vans, there were only 2 power points. We managed to pull into a spot next to a van that was already using one of the power points and they agreed to share. Before we left home, I had made up a couple of short leads to enable us to connect to either 10- or 15-amp plugs and convert the supply to fit either of our long leads and we used both of them, plus a purchased adapter and a double adapter to get both vans sharing 15-amp power - possibly even legally. There was a single water tap in the area, but unfortunately, no water came out of it.

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Thursday 25 May 1837

8 25/..

11 20/..

fine morning – out at 9 ¼ at the Lodge and about till came in to breakfast at 10 – out again ½ hour – about – at the Lodge – at the Stump Cross Inn with Mawson and David Booth (Zebedee bringing stone for the wash-house – what was Mawsons’ old stable) – great fault in the paving of the stable and in job generally – the front archway has given way a little – home about 12 ¼ - wrote the whole of yesterday and rough draft of letter to Mr. Harper to be considered about heavy shower between 12 and 1 – out again at 1 ½ - no! wrote 1 p. of envelope to A- Cliff Hill enclosing one of the letters sent to her care by Mrs. Sutherland and sending 2 or 3 little things by George – out again at 1 50 – with Charles Howarth and Booth chalking out on the floor of the new coach house the west tower roof – with Ingham and his 2 sons setting out (according to Mr. Gray’s plan) the laundry court wall – then with Robert Mann at the little field cistern – the pipe to be laid tomorrow – John brought it this morning from H-x (Firth’s) then at the Lodge – with Blythe Booth and Robert Mann about drilling hole for the chains to work in that are to open the gate upstairs – a 4in. hole to be drilled – Mr. Husband told Robert M- that he (Mr. Husband) had a plan for thus opening the gates – perhaps Mr. Gray had seen it, and given it to me – desired Robert to tell Mr. Husband to send me his plan – sealed up, if he chose – when I spoke to him long ago, he said the gates could be thus opened but it would be very expensive – would cost £20, and seemed then to think it so out of the question I said no more and Mr. H- seemed to think the thing given up – about 5 or after Messrs. Holt of the Travellers Inn and Waddington Deputy constable came wanting to speak to me – to know if I had seen any man fighting at Holts’ door last Sunday week – no! Waddington explained – said that William Pearson said that I had told him I saw men fighting at Holts’ door last Sunday week – I said I had never seen Mr. William Pearson to my knowledge since speaking to him about Mrs. Hopkin, and had certainly never made

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any complaint to him of seeing any men fighting at Holts’ door last Sunday week – He must have dreampt the things for I had certainly never told him any such thing – had never seen any such thing – but I would turn to my day book – brought H- and W. to the hall – they had beer – turned to my Journal and read them principals occurrences of the day in question from which it was evident that I had seen no fighting – if I had I should certainly have made some note of it – called George and asked if he had seen any fighting – no! said that if Mr. Brooke, the constable (to whom William P- had reported my telling him of the fighting) chose to take the trouble of coming here, I would read him the same extract from my day book that I had read to them (H- and W-) – they seemed much satisfied – W- thought nobody so particular as I was – poor fellow! such a thing as a journal was quite foreign to him – he seemed quite astonished when I calmly said I could tell what I had said and done for the last 21 years past quite as well as for the last Sunday but one – I left them at their beer in the upper kitchen at 5 ½ - then went to the gardener whom I had desired to get up some whims and brambles in the Little field but found him planting rhubarb in the (Conery) garden – gave him a blow up, and brought up John Booth and Jack Green from the Lodge and stood by and saw the stuff got up and carted to the Lodge and planted on Mr. Gray’s rough walling ledges and came in at 7 35 – dinner at 7 50 – coffee – and had come up to my study and written all but the 1st 7 lines of today at 9 ½ - going into the cow house this evening about 6 ½ found little John Booth helping his father to milk – told reminded John how often I had said I would not have little John employed here without my orders – said I should not find much fault – I should not say much but he John knew I was determined to have my orders obeyed – as he could not go to H-x on a Saturday without him, I had given up the thought of sending the cart on a Saturday as before – poor John! I said if his children were here, why should not Franks’ be here too – very fine day F46° now at 9 35 pm – Frank bringing lime from H-x morning and part of afternoon and lastly one load of stone for Ingham from Hipperholme quarry – Zebedee bringing wall stone (the old table close in front of the house) from the Stump X Inn – John B- with the gin horse brought lead pipe from H-x this morning – and the gin horse brought stuff from Little fields this evening – the masons (4 and lads) at the wash and brew house all today – Ingham + 2 sons at the footing of the Laundry court far end (north) wall – the gardener and Joseph Booth sodding with green and heather sods about the rough walling at the Lodge – did not make much shew today – Roberts’ men barrowing stuff from Lodge ash place to below the Lodge raising the mound – note (sent  by George) at 4 this afternoon to A- at Cliff Hill – bavardage amical – and note in answer from her ditto ditto – 2 carriages put into the new coach house tonight 1st time – the east doors put up this afternoon – taken from the last new coach house quondam corn-barn – letter tonight from Mrs. Cookson – her mother very ill – begs to stay with her a few days longer – was to have returned tomorrow – went last Friday – from 9 ¾ to 10 20 read from p. 80 to 102 Higgins on the earth – cutting open the leaves till 10 ½ -