#have you given your alien husband a kiss hello yet.

[fauvester]

workaholics at home

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Baby - Wanda Maximoff X Vision

Title: Baby

Wanda Maximoff X Vision

Additional Characters: Tommy Maximoff and Billy Maximoff

WC: 515

Warnings: Pregnancy pains

Wanda sat on the couch, eating a pint of peppermint ice cream. For a couple of days now, Wanda's been having strange cravings. For only peppermint ice cream. Pausing, Wanda gently rubbed her swollen belly. Her baby must really like peppermint. She was almost exactly nine months along, and she couldn't wait to see her baby.

"I'm going to be a mommy," she whispered, as if to herself.

Looking at the tv, Wanda watched her favorite tv show with rapt attention, shoveling another scoop of ice cream in her mouth. The episode was about a man who was given superpowers by an alien race and how he tried to live a normal life while keeping his powers hidden from everyone else.

Wanda turned as the front door opened, Vision entering, coming home from work. Smiling to his wife, he sat his briefcase on the coffee table after he shut the door.

"Hello, love." He said, kissing her cheek. "How was your day?"

"It was good," Wanda replied, licking her spoon. "I think I have a new favorite flavor."

Picking up the empty pint of ice cream, Vision read the label. Peppermint.

"You sure do seem to like this stuff," Vision chuckled. "What happened to chocolate?"

"Chocolate is too sweet for me right now." Wanda explained. "I prefer something with more kick to it."

Wanda chuckled before lovingly gazing at her belly. "Well, the baby likes it a lot."

Vision looked down at his wife's stomach. 

"Are you hungry? Do you want dinner?" Vision asked, taking the empty container to the kitchen and into the couch.

"Not yet," Wanda smiled, watching her husband take off his jacket and tie. "But I might get hungry later."

Wanda closed her eyes as Vision started cooking. She felt a little sad that they weren't able to go out tonight, but she didn't mind staying home. It was nice to spend some time together.

⚜⚜⚜

The next morning, Wanda woke up feeling weird. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain. Clutching her belly, Wanda scrunched her face in anguish. Using one hand, Wanda nudged Vision awake, who immediately looked at his wife in worry.

"Is everything okay?" Vision asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know," Wanda stammered. "I think I'm going to give birth soon."

"You're kidding!" Vision exclaimed. "You can't be serious."

Wanda nodded, still clutching her belly.

"Yep, it's happening.

⚜⚜⚜

Wanda held her two babies in her arms, exhausted. They were so tiny! Their skin was pale and their hair was brown.

"Hello, my darlings," Wanda cooed, smiling as she kissed them both. Vision stared down at his tiny, beautiful family.

"I've never seen anything so adorable," Vision said, tears in his eyes. "They look just like you."

Wanda giggled, stroking her children's faces.

"Thank you, my love," Wanda said, kissing him.

"What should we do about names?" Vision asked and Wanda smiled.

"Well, you wanted the name Tommy, and I wanted Billy." Wanda suggested.

Vision smiled, nodding in agreement. "We'll call our sons Tommy and Billy."

"Perfect," Wanda agreed. "I love you."

[prettybuckybaby]

my dear, my darling one

peter and harley have been together for two years. leia's a little unsure about their family situation

part nine of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

“How was Macy’s party, squirt?” Harley asks. They’re sat together in the living room of May’s apartment in Queens. May and Peter are out doing the shopping together, having left Leia with Harley while he was finishing some homework and Leia was still napping. He’s finished now and she’s awake, still in her princess dress, curls mused slightly. Harley chuckles when she huffs.

“Gracie’s party,” She corrects him with a roll of her eyes. Harley shrugs one of his shoulders with a laugh.

“Sure, yeah. Tracey. You have a good time?”

“Uh huh,” She nods happily. “Saw Gracie’s daddy kiss her mama,” Leia tells him, looking up at him from the picture she’s colouring in.

“Did you?” Harley tries his best to sound casual about it, he’s honest, because he knows that Leia, as clever as she is, doesn’t quite grasp the concept of adult relationships yet and how complicated they are, and will not appreciate the absolute quality of the gossip she’s just given Harley. He cannot wait to tell Peter about Miss Miller and her ex-husband kissing at their daughter’s birthday party less than a month after their divorce has been finalised.

“Yeah,” Leia agrees. She doesn’t say anything more as she crawls into Harley’s lap. He pretends to ignore her as she pokes her finger into his cheek repeatedly. “Harls.”

“Oh. Hello there, Leia,”

“You kiss my daddy,”

“I do,” Harley nods slowly, not quite sure what angle Leia is going for. “Because I love him. Like Gracie’s mama loves her daddy,” Leia nods her head, reaching over to pick her picture back up. Harley uses his foot to drag the box of crayons closer to them, so Leia can reach them without getting up from Harley’s lap.

“Does that make you my mama?” She asks as she picks up the box and takes out a blue crayon. If she notices, she doesn’t mention the way Harley suddenly goes stiff underneath her. He tries to open his mouth to say something, anything, but it’s like his brain has short-circuited. “Because,” Leia continues like nothing’s wrong. “I’d like it if you were my mama, Harls,” He smiles tightly when Leia peers up at him.

“That’s…something you’ll have to talk to daddy about, sweetheart,”

“Okay,” Leia smiles. She wriggles on his lap, turning around to show him the picture she’s drawn. “Look!”

“Uh huh,” Harley nods. He takes the piece of paper out of her hand. He studies it carefully. “This is…lovely. What…is it?”

“It’s a cow,” She tells him like Harley’s being stupid. “Moo?”

“Right. Of course. Moo. And what’s the cow doing?”

“She’s fightin’ aliens,” Leia huffs. She points at the paper, at the muddy green splodges around the edges of the page, aggressively. “Look! See. Aliens. Like Daddy fights. An’ Uncle Tony,”

“Oh. Yeah. I see them now,”

“Do you not like it?” She asks, eyes starting to get wet. Harley smiles quickly.

“No, I love it, sweetheart. It’s lovely. Very beautiful. She’s a very brave cow. Fightin’ all those aliens,”

“Thank you,” Leia nods. She grins when she hears the door unlock. “Daddy!” She calls, jumping up from Harley’s lap and running towards the door. Harley’s smile drops when he is out of Leia’s eyeline. He listens, barely, to Peter and May both gushing over Leia’s picture, and he doesn’t move until May comes to stand in front of him.

“Honey?” She asks softly, frowning when Harley jumps at the sound of her voice. “Honey, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harley grins up at her. He tries to ignore the way May’s frown deepens. “Yeah. I’m good. Of course. You want help putting this away?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he takes the bags from May’s hands and rushes into the kitchen. He’s working mainly on auto pilot as he puts the items away, thinking back over the conversation he had with Leia.

“Harls!” Peter grins as he peers around the corner of the kitchen into the room. “You gonna come and watch a film with us before Leia goes to bed?”

---------------

Later that night, after they’ve eaten their dinner and watched a film, Peter is giving Leia a bath when the topic comes up again. Peter’s patient as he waits for Leia to bring up what’s bothering her, has noticed that something’s been off since he came back from the shops with May. She’s been quiet, and at first he assumed she was just tired, but no matter how tired she is, Leia never passes up on the opportunity to splash around in the bath, getting all her toys out and getting bubbles all over the bathroom.

Harley’s been acting weird as well, but Peter can figure that out later.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” He asks when she pushes one of her ducks around the bath half-heartedly. Leia doesn’t hesitate to ask him. Her voice is quiet, but Peter’s hears her crystal clear.

“Is Harls my mama?”

“Um,” Peter blinks once, twice, before he swallows. “What?”

“I saw Gracie’s daddy kiss her mama,” Leia explains with a frown on her face. “Miss Anna says that mamas and daddies kiss. And you and Harls kiss,”

“That…that doesn’t make him your mama, sweetheart,” He says softly, using a tumbler to pour some water over her head, making sure all the shampoo is rinsed out.

“Oh,” She frowns. She reaches for the duck again, only to squeeze it once and let it float away again.

“What’s wrong?” Peter’s voice is almost a whisper. Leia’s voice matches when she replies.

“Wanted Harls to be my mama,”

“You want Harls to be your mama?”

“Hmm,” Leia peers up at Peter, eyes wide. “Is he…allowed to be my mama,” Peter smiles.

“Well, you know how some people have two daddies?” He asks. Leia nods up at him. “Wouldn’t Harls be another daddy?”

“But…” Leia frowns. She thinks for a moment. “But you’re my daddy.”

“I know,” Peter smiles and Leia pokes his cheek with a wet finger. “But-”

“So Harls can’t be my daddy, because you’re my daddy,” She interrupts. She looks up at her father with a confused look on her face. “Right? Confusing. What if…what if there was two Leia’s. How would I know if you were talking to me and not the…the other?”

“Well.” Peter shifts slightly on his knees. “Well, yeah, okay. But, he could be your dada, or your-”

“My mama?” Peter gives her a small smile.

“You really want him to be your mama, huh?”

“Is…is that allowed?” Leia asks. Peter smiles before the frown on her face can grow any more. He runs a hand through her hair and cups her cheek gently.

“Of course it’s allowed. Harls can be your mama if you want him to. And if he wants to be.” Leia grins up at her daddy.

---------------

“Hey,” Harley greets Peter when he comes into his bedroom. “She asleep?”

“Yeah,” Peter smiles as he lays down on the bed. He raises his arms, making grabby hands, beckoning him to join him from his place at Peter’s desk. He grins, a gentle smile, as he joins Peter on his bed. “She had three different books. Had to stop her getting up and start to play around. She had a lot of energy,”

“Did she?”

“Hmm,” Peter smiles. He pulls Harley into his arms, hugging him tightly, as if stopping him running away. “She told me what you two talked about before,”

“What, about aliens and cows in space?”

“About you being her mama.”

“Oh,” Harley, for the record, does try to pull away from Peter. It’s a waste of his time, with the way Peter barely even moves despite the way Harley puts his whole effort into the movement. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I’m not her mother. And…she said that and I-”

“Harls.”

“-don’t want you thinking I’m trying to replace Bella because I’m not-”

“Harls.”

“-and I completely understand if you’re mad and want me to leave because-”

“Harley.” Peter places a hand over Harley’s mouth, stopping the torrent of words coming out of his mouth. When Harley stops trying to talk, he removes it. “Shut up. I’m not mad,”

“You’re…you’re not?”

“Of course, I’m not mad,” Peter scoffs. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because-”

“Because my daughter loves you? Because she wants you to be a part of her life? Yeah, Harls, I’m absolutely livid that you make her feel safe and you make her feel loved. How dare you.” He says dryly.

“But-”

“And, listen, I know you’re not Bee. Leia knows you’re not Bee too, but here’s the thing, Harls. Bee’s…Bee’s not coming back,” He smiles sadly. “And I loved Bee. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you,”

“Peter-”

“Leia loves you, Harls. And I love you.”

“And I love you, but that doesn’t mean-”

“You do know you’re already her other parent, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Honestly.” Peter shakes his head. He pulls away from Harley enough to give him a disbelieving look. “You’re stupid sometimes. We’ve been together since she was a year old, Harls. You’re a part of her life, and whether you like it or not, you’re her other parent.”

“Oh.”

“Did you really not know?”

“No I just…just thought she liked me,”

“She loves you, you idiot. She adores you. She wants you to be her mama, Harls, because she loves you,”

“She…wants me to be her mama?”

“Yeah. She loves you,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’.” Peter grins. “You want to be her mama?”

“I…”

“It’s okay if you don’t, Harls. She’ll understand,”

“No, I…I’d love to. Are you…are you sure?” Peter grips Harley’s hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it.

“Harley, you think if I didn’t want you to be her parent, if I didn’t want you to be involved in her life, I’d want you hanging out with her?” Harley doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter sighs quietly. “You remember when we first started dating? Before we got together and I introduced you to her?”

“Yeah?”

“I told you that Leia would always be my first priority.” Harley nods his head slowly. “She will be. Always. And that’s not going to change. Ever. You think I’d let you be involved in her life at all if I didn’t trust you with her life?”

“No?”

“No. But I do, Harls. And I want you to be a part of her life. And I get that we’re young and stuff but…she’s our kid, you know?”

“She is?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” Peter grins. He bashes his shoulder against Harley’s gently. “You’ve been her parent for two years. This is just making things official,”

“Are you-”

“Harley, I swear if you ask if I’m sure once more I’m going to kick you out of this bed,” Peter tells him, half serious. The seriousness is betrayed by the grin on his face. “Yes?” Harley peers up at Peter’s face. He stares for a moment before he smiles.

“Yeah.”

---------------

It doesn’t happen for a while. And when it does happen, it’s on a particularly bad day. Peter’s on a mission with Clint and Natasha. He’s been gone for two days, and it’s the longest Leia’s ever gone without seeing him and she misses him. She hasn’t seen him for so long and she doesn’t know when her daddy’s meant to be coming home and it’s making her so sad.

She’s staying at the tower. May’s staying there too, her and Tony having decided that it will probably be easier for Leia if she can spend time with as many people as possible, but it doesn’t really matter how much time she spends with Tony or Pepper or Sammy or Stevie or even Buck, she just misses her daddy.

May and Happy pick her up from play group. Leia’s still napping, and Miss Anna tells May that she’s spent most of the day on her own, not wanting to play with Lucas or Renee, and she barely made a sound until it was nap time, when she started bawling. She’s barely been asleep for half an hour by the time they pick her up.

Happy drives them as quickly as he safely can back to the tower, trying to limit the amount of time Leia has to spend in a moving vehicle in a car seat that, no matter how much Tony splashed out on, he can’t imagine to be any sort of comfortable. He and May don’t speak during the drive, the music not playing through the speakers. They don’t talk on their way up to the penthouse, either, but Leia still wakes up on the way up in the lift. She sniffles.

“Daddy.”

“Oh, sweet pea,” May coos, kissing Leia’s cheek softly. “Daddy’s still working, honey pie,”

“Wan’ Daddy,” She whines pitifully as the lift doors open. Tony and Pepper, both sat on the couch in the middle of the room, look up at the sound. They smile sadly when Leia glances at them. She hides her face back in May’s neck.

“You wanna give Uncle Tony a hug, baby bug?” May rhymes, swaying Leia on her hip. Leia shakes her head.

“Wan’ Daddy!”

“Sweetheart,” Tony sighs sadly, standing and walking over towards them. “Hi, turtle bug,” She doesn’t lift her head away from May’s shoulder, just turns it so she can look up at Tony. She sniffles again.

“Wan’ Daddy,” Leia repeats. “Please,”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon, petal,” Pepper tells her, locking her phone and slipping it into her pocket. “Nat said it should be a pretty easy mission. I’m sure he’ll be back soon with something special for you,” She elbows Tony harshly when she hears him muttering something that sounds like ‘if he’s got any sense’.

“Pep, you okay?” A voice calls, footsteps following from down the hallway. “FRIDAY said…”

As soon as Leia notices Harley in the room, she reaches her hands out and grabs for him.

“Mama,” Harley coos softly as he makes his way over to the group. As soon as he’s in reaching distance, Leia is pushing herself away from May’s body, trying to jump into Harley’s arms. He’s gentle as he helps Leia settle herself on his hip. She links her arms around Harley’s neck, presses her face into his skin. “Mama,”

“Hi, peach,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Miss Daddy,” Leia mumbles, muffled by Harley’s neck. “Miss him so much,”

“I know, baby. So do I,” Harley whispers it like it’s a secret, trying to ignore the way he can feel all eyes in the room on the two of them. “You have a good nap, at least?”

“No!” Leia suddenly wails, voice loud enough in Harley’s ear to make him jump. “No! I-I d-did-”

“Hey,” Harley reaches a hand up and places it on the back of her head. “Hey, take a breath for me, sweetness. Big and deep, like this,” He encourages her to breath for a few minutes, waiting until she breathes without choking on air. “There we go. Hey,” He smiles when Leia lifts her head from Harley’s shoulder. “Hi,”

“Mama,”

“I know, baby,” He makes the movements small as he lifts a hand to comb through Leia’s hair. His fingers are gentle as he pulls them through the curls, rocking softly from side to side. He smiles kindly when Leia peers up at him, eyes blinking slowly, eyes staying closed for a few moments longer each time.

“Stay, Mama?”

“Of course, angel,” With the confirmation that Harley’s not going to leave her, she lets her eyes close, settling her head back onto Harley’s shoulder. He keeps rocking her even when he’s sure she’s asleep, keeping a hand running through her hair.

“So,” Tony’s voice is quiet from next to Harley. The teen looks up at him. “You’re ‘mama’ now?”

“I guess,” Harley smiles. “Yeah.”

[yamithediaperdork]

My Cousin is CRAZY! (Ben10 alien force)

My cousin is crazy

It was Saturday morning in Bellwood and 15 year old Ben Tennyson was slowly waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs. It was strange because his parents were on a vegan kick at the moment but he decided to roll with it and opened his eyes as he went to sit up. And then groaned out loud as he took in stock of his attire and what he was sleeping in. Not for the first time since Gwen had started working out hardcore last year the girlish Ben had found his cousin perv'ing on him and deciding he should be her sissy baby wife. Despite making his lack of interest in such plans clear MORE then once, It hadn't of stopped Gwen from snagging him up at random times and dressing him up. Case and point, he was currently in what he estimated as 5 princess reaz's diapers (he'd sadly become familiar with the different brands because of Gwen) and a dark pink top with lighter pink puffed out shoulders and a semi skirt that didn't even cover half of the diapers. The top also had a red heart on the front with white writing in cursive declaring 'i wove my mommy' going along with the top and diapers his hands were in locking mittens meaning any attempt to use the omnitrix was doomed to fail and his feet covered in booties with slick bottoms so Ben would end up having to crawl unless he wanted to fall on his ass every 12 steps. 'At least she didn't put the paci in my mouth this time.' Ben thought with a sulky though a pat on his head told him she had put the silly over sized bow in his hair again, the damn thing pink with white poka dots. As for what he was in, again this wasn't a shock to him as it wasn't the first time but he was still less then pleased to have gone to sleep in his own bed in a pair of boxers and wake up in the hot pink crib Gwen had built just for him during her wood shop class. And of course since she wasn't shy of telling people who it was for Ben had been forced to endure even more teasing at school though ironically just verbal, no bullies had darned to lay a finger on him and have to deal with Gwen's almost super human power and bulk. The last bully who had tried had been found hanging from a flag pole by a pair of Barbie pants. Struggling to get to his feet on the purple sheet covered queen sized mattress and ignoring the fuzzy white and pink blanket and pillows in the crib with him (not to mention a dolly or too) Ben took in a deep breath and then hollered at the opened door frame of Gwen's room. "GWEN YOU SICK BITCH! YOU'VE BEEN TOLD TO STOP KIDNAPPING ME AND DRESSING ME IN DRAG AND HUGGIES! COME IN HERE AND LET ME OUT OF THIS OUTFIT BEFORE I GET YOU IN SHIT WITH YOURS AND MINE PARENTS AND GRANDPA MAX TOO!" It was the only threat that normally worked as while they're parents thought it was mostly cute, they all agreed that Gwen kidnapping Ben crossed a line. other then that though it was fair game if he was out of the house. Grandpa Max was nicer about it in Ben's view as he made the rust bucket a official safe zone that even Gwen respected and so Ben found himself hanging out less with Gwen and Kevin and more with Gramps. Kevin for his part was all too happy to stay out of it, treating the whole thing as a bullet dodged when him and Gwen had never hit it off and a better Ben then him. Ben didn't have to wait long as he swore he could almost feel the food steps of Gwen as she made her way towards the room.

Between the insane amount of weights she worked and the reps she put into and a unexpected growth spurt Gwen looked like she could of been a WWE at her 6'10 height and 320 pounds of mostly muscle. She kept her Orange hair short and was wearing a pair of grey jogging pants and white under shirt that showed off her girl abs. "Awww is my darling widdle wife to be awake?" She coo'ed, cupping her hands together and flashing Ben a big smile. "Gwen, for the LAST time, I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to be your sissy baby, now PLEASE let me go. I'm not joking, I'll call Grandpa Max over and get you in SO much trouble." Ben huffed, trying to look intimidating but his outfit made that all but impossible. "Awww such a silly widdle gurl! Did widdle Benny forget that this is our parents couples retreat weekend? And gramp's is off on Plumber work! That means I got widdle Benny to myself allll weekend." Gwen gushed and came over, lifting him out of the crib with ease and holding him up so she could give his padded rump a sniff. "Ah crap baskets..That was THIS weekend?" Ben whined, not even bothering to point out he would of said something if he had used the diapers. He'd tried to make plans to hang out with cooper for that weekend but had clearly gotten his dates wrong and was capital S screwed for the next 48 hours. "Hmm Doesn't smell like Benny has made me a present yet..but I know you will soon enough. you just love to make presents for your hubby don't you?" Gwen coo'ed and moved him down enough she could give him a Eskimo kiss. "Oh yeah. highlight of my weekend, fudging a diaper." Ben said sarcastically. "Now now, I know you're just grumpy because you didn't get to play with me last night, but I had to take care of a few things. But we have allll weekend sweetie. And if you promise to be a good little gurl for me I'll be nice and spoil you with all the junk food you want. After all you need to put on some baby fat." Gwen chuckled and kissed his cheek. Ben groaned, Gwen was always trying to chub him up, but given the fact he'd been subjected to the 'wonder's' of a baby food and formula weekend before, and the fact he was trapped regardless he just hung his head. "Fine, I'll play along. but for the record, you need help." Ben huffed. "Oh please, I can handle my widdle wife for a weekend!" Gwen chuckled and carried Ben off towards the kitchen.

Strapped into a wooden but painted light pink high chair, Ben played along with his crazy cousin and held up his arms so she could remove his top and replace it with a hello kitty bib. "Now Benny, if I remove your mitten's and let you feed yourself, you're not gonna do something stupid and try and use your silly little watch now are you?" Gwen asked. Considering between her bulk and her magic Gwen out classed most of Ben's aliens anyways and she always made sure he was sorry for trying to go alien on her after he timed out, Ben decided that having the freedom to feed himself was worth playing along. "Yeah I'll be good.." Ben said and held up his hands. She studied his face for a second, as if deciding whether or not to trust him then smiled. "I believe you. I really hope we can have a nice weekend together and I don't end up having to spank you. it hurts me then it does you when I have to." Gwen said then moved to free up Ben's hands. 'Bullshit on that one!' Ben thought but wisely kept his thoughts to himself and just flexed his fingers, and looked at the watch. "I'm not going alien, I'm just checking to make sure no alien got primed to go while the mitten on so I don't accidentally go alien and get my cheeks tanned." He said, and then after getting a smirk and a nod from Gwen checked the watch. Thankfully nothing was primed and he made sure to show the psycho and then wiggled in the high chair as he waited on her to plate up some num nums for him. Everything else aside, Gwen really was a excellent cook and she didn't hold back as she put the piled high plate of scrambled eggs and Bacon and some pancakes down in front of Ben and handed him a baby fork and knife. She had also poured on the maple syrup and set down a one liter baby bottle full of chocolate milk for him and kissed his cheek. "Eat up little lady.Oh, did you want me to put a show or something on for you while you eat up? I think Sumo slammers is having a marathon on channel 6 today." Gwen asked, nodding to the Kitchen TV her mom had had put in back during the 90's. "..That would be agreeable yes." Ben said, trying not to break out into a silly grin before he started to dig into the food, watching as Gwen was proven right. 'you know.. the huggies and drag aside, I could get used to being spoiled like this.' Ben thought.

Gwen smirked as she watched Ben chow down and kick his legs ideally in the high chair. while she would of preferred he watch something a little less violent she had changed up her usual plan for weekend sessions with her soon to be sissy bride. Trying to enforce the baby food and sissy programs only made him fight it more so she was gonna meet him halfway and try to ease him more into baby gurlhood. One added bonus though she noticed with a big grin while she had her normal bowl of high protein gruel was that Ben was even more of a messy eater then normal as he watched his show, getting syrup all over his face and bib and eggs and bits of bacon were all over the place. 'He's such a big baby! I love it!' She mentally squealed. It only got better as halfway though his plate, he reached for his his ba-ba and held it with BOTH hands like a good baby gurl and she was fighting the urge to squeal out loud. Anytime she tended to praise him for his babyish behavior he always tried to cut it out. Finishing her gruel she washed it down with a protein drink and noted that Ben was squirming around lots in his high chair, with most of his food gone and the little sissy had packed away HALF of his milk already. "Doing alright over there baby gurl?" She asked. Ben seemed to snap out of his show induced trance and blushed. "I uh..I gonna potty..and I think I got a gas bubble stuck." He said, poking two fingers together. '..Is he asking me to burp him?' Gwen wondered but was ALL grin's "Well that's no good! here, let me help you out. whats a little gas between husband and wife?" She said. Coming over she grabbed a dish towel and a wet dish rag, putting the towel over one shoulder and then moved Ben's num num's and ba-ba over onto the kitchen table and removed his bib. washing the big baby's face and chest down she removed the tray and lifted him up, swooning as his legs wrapped around her and he helped her get his head over the towel. Rubbing his back she gave it all of three firm but gentle pats before Ben let out a massive belch over her shoulder and spit up a little bit of milk. "Uh...T-Thanks Gwen." A sheepish Ben half coo'ed and then switched shoulders and nuzzled into her. "Do you want me to set you down so you can go and hide while you make potty?" She offered, clearly trying to meet him half way was working wonders. "I..I Uh..no." Ben Mewed into her shoulder, which of course muffled his voice but she got the jest of it. "You wanna use your diapers while your bride to be holds you tight and praises you for being a good girl?" Gwen asked, grinning ear to ear and holding Ben close and rubbing his lower back. "I..I dunno..Maybe..I mean..If I can't use the potty..I guess it's.." Ben Mumbled into her shoulder, She could tell he'd of rather used the bathroom, which was a touch disappointing to her but still, with him willing to go in his pampers while she held him being his second choice that meant she was making headwind. "Do you wanna keep your face in my big strong shoulder or be turned around facing away from my?" She asked, then leaned down and kissed his neck, knowing from Julie (who had dumped Ben mostly because she shipped the pair) just how much he loved having his neck kissed and nibbled on. Case and point Ben didn't even really reply, just snuggled into her harder. Taking that as a answer Gwen made her way over to a kitchen chair and took a seat, Ben's legs on either side of her lap and his arms hugging her, while one of her strong hands rubbed and patted his pampered bottom. Her other hand was rubbing and pressing on certain spots on Ben's back and it didn't take loud before her efforts were rewarded as a muffled poot came out his backside, then anther and anther and she could feel him starting to push and grunt. "That's it baby gurl, let it all out. make me a nice big present." Gwen coo'ed sweetly in his ear and follow up with giving him a gentle start of a hickey on his neck as he began to fill his pretty pink diapers. "G-Gwen! Dun! N-Not while I'm pooping!" Ben meekly whimpered, though he tilted his head in such a fashion that he was offering her a even better shot at his neck. "Heh, Somebodies gonna be a tsundere diaper sissy for me huh? That's ok. I think it's adorable." Gwen chuckled, feeling the lumps of Ben's 'present' to her fill up the back of his diapers and mentally giving thanks to whatever mage had made the spell that allowed her to only smell strawberries in cream as Ben loaded his huggies. 'Maybe if he's a good gurl at our wedding, on our honeymoon I'll cast it on him too.' Gwen thought. Food for thought later, She had a good little gurl dumping his guts in his pampers for her and whimpering for his reward and as such, she leaned down and started to gently nibble and suck away on Ben's neck, smirking as the little sissy let out a soft "I love you.." as she did so.

The end

[ahatintimestorybook]

All is Found Chap. 2

So I’m surprised how many people liked this story. I was worried for a bit after posting the first chapter, but glad people enjoy it!!!

Enjoy!!!!!!

“Um hi.” Hat Kid replied groggily. She rubbed her eyes and later stretched her body. “Where am I?” She asked, looking around the room.

“Our manor.” Lucas replied. “You crash landed in our kingdom.” He added as he walked up to the girl before sitting down next to her. Hat Kid scooted back as much as she could, so she wouldn’t fall off the bed. She didn’t know these people, and was worried about her ship, and...she paused realizing the fuel to her ship, the Time Pieces are still in danger.

She was ready to jump out of bed and run to her ship, but her head still hurt after the crash. Lucas grabbed her arm and pulled her close so she wouldn’t run off. “Kid, you suffered a major crash and lived. Don’t go running off so soon!” He shouted. Hat Kid was breathing heavily, but started to calm down looking at Lucas. The prince loosened his grip on the young girl, and faced her. “Now, first things first. Who are you?”

“My friends call me Hat Kid, as for my real name it's-” Hat Kid paused at her introduction realizing she doesn’t remember her name. “M-my name is...is…” She tried hard to remember, but her head started to hurt. “Why can’t I remember?” Hat Kid asked herself.

Lucas pulled Hat Kid closer to him once again, and started to rub her arm. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.” He tried to reassure her, “don’t force yourself to remember. Just relax till you can, okay?” 

The young girl looked up at the Prince and saw the warm smile on his face making her calm down. “Okay.” She replied in a low whisper. She took a deep breath and soon small fragments of her memories appeared. “I-I only remember some guy punched a hole in my ship and suddenly my ship started to fall from space to here.” She explained.

“W-what did this guy look like?” Lucas asked.

“A big dumb meanie, and he wore blue outfit.”  The girl explained.

Lucas and Vanessa looked at each other and realized who attacked the young girl’s ship and caused the crash. The Mafia. A group of thugs who took over an island not too long ago. Some Mafia members had tried to take over Subcon, but he and Vanessa were able to handle them.

However, now was not the time to get angry at the Mafia. They had a young girl with them with only minor memories, and scaring her with their anger was not the time. “Anyways. I’m Prince Lucas, and this is my wife Queen Vanessa.” Lucas introduced himself and his wife.

When Queen Vanessa heard her name she did a little curtsy to the young girl. “Hello there.” She said.

Hat Kid chuckled. “Hi there!” She beamed. Then something clicked in her mind. “ If she's queen, how come you're still a prince?” Hat Kid asked.

Lucas chuckled, “well, I haven’t finished my studies yet so until I do. I won’t be crowned king.” He explained. Hat Kid took this to understanding and nodded.

“What are you studying?” 

“Law!” Lucas replied, giving a smile. Hat Kid tilted her head in confusion. She never heard of law before. The prince saw the confusion in the little girl’s eyes, and carried the young girl. “I’ll show you.” He chuckled before taking the young girl to his study room. As Hat Kid was being led to the study room she saw Queen Vanessa staring at her in suspicion.

Leading Hat Kid to the room where he studies, Lucas gave the young girl a tour of the manor showing her where the kitchen is, a couple of rooms, the bathroom, so on and so forth. The young girl was amazed with how big the manor was.

“I have never been in a manor this big before!” Hat Kid commented.

“Well, now you have kiddo.” Lucas replied. He smiled as he opened the door where the prince mentioned he did his studies. Hat Kid walked in the study room and saw two desks and a bunch of books.

“You have a lot of books!” Hat Kid exclaimed. She saw not only law books, but books of all subjects; math, science, literature. There were even storybooks and novels as well.

“They’re not mine!” Lucas revealed, but quickly corrected himself. “Well, some are mine. Most of these books were owned by Vanessa and her family.” He explained. Hat Kid pulled out a few storybooks and looked at them.

She saw on the cover one of them that had a young girl being given an apple and the other was a girl with long hair inside a tower looking out the window.

Hat Kid sat down on the floor and opened one of the books and started to read. Lucas smiled and sat in a chair near his desk as he started to read one of his law books. It went to a quiet reading secession between an alien child and a prince.

Time had passed, and Vanessa went over to check to see if her prince and the child were alright. They’ve been quiet for quite some time. “My prince.” She called out knocking on the door. Queen Vanessa tapped her foot and waited for Lucas to open the door.

The queen looked worried seeing Lucas hadn’t opened the door yet. Vanessa knocked on the door again and saw the door was open. However, it wasn’t her Prince but Hat Kid.

“H-hi there Hat Kid.” Queen Vanessa started giving a nervous smile. “Have you seen my Prince?” She asked.

Hat Kid turned to where Prince Lucas’s desk was and let the queen in. Vanessa saw Lucas asleep at his desk with his law book being used as a pillow.

Vanessa sighed, slowly shaking her head. “Not again.” She whispered. Vanessa walked towards her husband’s desk and slightly shook him to wake him up. “My prince. Wakey, wakey.” She sang.

Lucas groaned and stifled in his sleep. “Wake me up by sunrise, Vanessa.” He mumbled in his sleep.

The queen glared and grabbed Lucas’s shoulders and started to shake him. Gently though, “Lucas, wake up!” She snapped. Lucas slowly woke up to see his lovely queen wife, and gave a lovely smile.

“Morning my love.” He said tiredly.

Vanessa giggled. “It's noon my prince.” She corrected him. Lucas giggled and gave his wife a kiss on the nose. The queen replied back by giving Lucas a kiss on the cheek making them both giggle. 

Hat Kid stuck her tongue out in disgust over the mushy love between the two. Sure, she loved fairy tales, but seeing couples kiss made her disgusted. Luckily, she didn’t give a disgusted groan to the point the royal couple could hear.

After a moment of kisses and nuzzling, Lucas realized something. “Wait, you said it's 12?” He asked. Vanessa nodded her head. “Oh man, were late for lunch!” Lucas exclaimed. He rushed out of the room to check if the servants started on lunch yet leaving Hat Kid and Queen Vanessa alone in the study room.

Hat Kid looked up at the queen, who the latter gave a small glare towards the kid. The girl felt tension in the room as the queen looked down at her. “Listen kiddo.” She started. “I’m queen of this kingdom, and I don’t trust you being around my prince and my kingdom.” She explained, a glare in her eyes.

Hat Kid was scared, how could a queen go from being sweet and kind, and a bit clingy to sinister and creepy with a snap of a finger. The young child gulped and stepped back away from the queen who followed the young girl.

“I don’t know what your goal is here, but I’ll let you know.” She paused getting close to the young girl’s face. “You do anything to harm my kingdom I’ll...I’ll.” Vanessa paused on her threat and looked into Hat Kid’s eyes.

The young child went from fearful to confused when Vanessa stared right into her eyes. Hat Kid’s eyes were blue.

Blue like Vanessa’s. Blue, like the color of ice crystals.

Where had Vanessa seen blue eyes like hers before. She was thinking where and when she had seen those eyes before. Before she can thoroughly think of where the blue eyes came from, Lucas came back smiling.

“Lunch is almost ready!” He announced.

“Oh.” Vanessa said now going back to her sweet demeanor. “That’s great!” She beamed. Vanessa started to hum a sweet little tune as she danced her way out of the room and into the kitchen. Hat Kid blinked in confusion with how Vanessa was able to snap back to being a sweet little queen.

“Kid, you feeling hungry?” Lucas asked. Hat Kid felt her stomach rumble. It had been a while since she last ate. Hat Kid nodded and followed the prince into the kitchen. Lucas held out his hand for the young girl, who stared at it before slipping her hand into his. The prince smiled and took Hat Kid to the kitchen.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Red and Green Cloud prt 4 full draft

"Talking" with Allura, Lance found himself mentally spilling every dark secret he'd buried since she'd left. Everything from the moment he'd said goodbye. All the things he'd never said to her, all the things he should have said. He poured his heart out to the cross that was all he had of her. Her photos were too painful. They felt empty of her energy. He kept the ones of them together, but they stayed here on Earth while he ran as far as he could. He would have kept pouring his heart out if Keith hadn't placed his hand on his shoulder, letting him know that he was there for him, and that he'd talked so long that the hole for the coffin was mostly dug.

  Wiping his eyes and dusting himself off, he took the shovel from Keith, climbing down into the hole to finish off. He'd have to ask his father to make another cross, so Kre'el could rest and never be forgotten. Her coffin was plain white, no fancy carvings or intricate designs on top. Just a cold box to contain a woman who'd suffered through so much. Life wasn't fair. He'd known that for almost as long as he'd known his own name. It was hard. Full of fighting and pain, but today he could breathe easier knowing that if he wanted, he could walk right back down the hill and into his mother's arms, and that she wouldn't question it. She still loved him. She still wanted him in her life, and she accepted that he wasn't alright, or as alright as he made seem. He knew she had to hurt from his blunt words, but what else could he do? His past was still clinging to the bottom of his shoes, and his future was right in front of him. Or beside him. In the current moment his future was above him and slightly to the left, letting him be slightly perdantic over making sure the bottom was flat, so her coffin wouldn't warp and buckle before it's time. Patting the back of the shovel against the dirt, it was finally time

"Babe?"

"It's time"

  Handing up the shovel to Keith, they hadn't thought things through properly. The hole was a little over 5 feet. There was nothing around that would disturb the grave, yet there was still the matter of lowering the casket down... which was an experience. Lance didn't want to step on the coffin, but with the lack of space and the drop, they were lucky they even managed to lower it down, having to trade positions as Keith was physically stronger than him. It still resulted in him sliding down the back of the hole as they tried to be careful. Both of them climbing out the grave feeling slightly wrong about how it'd gone down. It hadn't been a smooth and beautiful service. They were the only ones there to say the first of the goodbyes. What he wouldn't have given to have found her daughter to lay with her. It seemed unbearably cruel that they were both separated. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, he took the shovel up again, not allowing himself the luxury to rest. The sooner her grave was left alone, the sooner her eternal rest would start.

  Covering the coffin, it seemed to take no time before the dirt was mounded up beside Allura's cross. The tears started, but the ran down his face, mixed with sweat from the bright sun overhead. Dirt clung to him from head to toe, Keith much the same way as he took the shovel from him, passing him the bouquet of sunflowers and daisies. Staring at the pretty yellow flowers in the bunch, they seemed ridiculously yellow and clean

"I don't know what to say"

"I don't know either. Maybe you don't need to know what to say right now. Your intentions are good. You put her to rest. She's here, surrounded by more freedom then she never had in her life. More love than she's had in years. She hurt you and forgave her. That's all that matters for now"

"Yeah... I pray she's finally resting in peace, with her daughter again..."

"I know, babe..."

"I thought I'd have words for this"

"You can think about it, and we'll come back up here with the others. When the time is right. You're not forgetting her by taking time to think"

Lance let out a snort, taking himself by surprise. He had no idea why he snorted

"You're right... let's head down now. We both need showers..."

"Ok. I love you, you know"

"I love you too. Do you think she's ok with me walking away?"

"I think she would be. I think she wanted someone to stop her and wanted someone to save you. I think she'd be happy you have someone who loves you and is there for you"

"I wish there'd been some other way... any other way. I forgive her, but I can't forgive everything. I can't forgive them for taking my virginity. I can't forgive them for all the disgust I still feel... but I want to believe when we were friends, that was real. That she's sorry for that. I want to go back now"

  With the heat, the exertion, the heaviness of the day, he wanted to unwind again. Take a break before he had to think again. Let Keith comfort him, though he'd done so much of that already. Maybe he could convince Keith to take a shower with him? They both needed a shower and he wanted to show Keith some appreciation for everything he'd done. The least he could do wash his hair for him. The Telula's over head shower head was the only real place they could share a shower without having to swap in and out. Movies were definitely wrong when it came to the romance of shower sharing

"Babe? You still with me?"

He hadn't noticed his hand was gripping his chest. He didn't feel like he was having an attack. He could think clearly for one thing

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. What do you say we take a shower together. I want to hold you"

Keith gave him a smile, that went straight to his heart

"That sounds nice"

      *

Lance was dead on his feet by the end of their shopping trip. Trying to keep his team out of trouble, every time he turned his back, Zak was off and into something new. If it wasn't Zak it was random strangers asking for his or Keith's autographs. Then it was everyone he'd known growing up, or at least it seemed like he was introducing his team to every single person he'd ever met in his time before the Galaxy Garrison. Running into so many familiar faces should have reminded him of all the good times he'd had in his youth, but seeing them in contrast with the thousands of refugees that still called Earth home only served to make him feel like the alien in his own home town.

 With his arms feeling like they were going to drop off, he dumped his bags of shopping in Keith's old room, before staggering over to their room where his husband was dealing with his own smaller load of shopping. Coming up behind Keith, Lance wrapped his arm around the half-Galra's waist, nuzzling into the nape of Keith's neck as he inhaled as much of Keith's scent as he could. He loved Keith holding him, but he loved holding his husband just as much. The best time was they'd fall asleep together and he'd wake finding himself spooned around Keith, like his smaller frame could protect the love of his life from everything

"Hello, you"

"Mmm, hello"

  Nuzzling harder, Lance was in heaven. He was sure of it. Keith had kept him calm as they'd shopped. Even when Lance had disappeared to pick up a few more small gifts for his husband, the thought that Keith was waiting for him kept him grounded enough not to panic despite all the strangers surrounding him. Letting out a content sigh, he pressed a kiss to fair skin against his lips

"Everything ok?"

"Mmm. Yeah. Better now we're back here and all the children are accounted for"

Laughing lightly, Keith placed his hands on his

"I seriously thought we lost Ezor and Zethrid. That's the last time I trust Acxa to keep them in line. And are you sure your dad will be happy with a new set of spanners?"

"Babe, we're on a working farm. Stuff goes missing all the time, so yes. And personally I was more concerned that Ezor was going to make crash the ute. I wouldn't be surprised if we'd all died on the way home"

 The novelty of a car was too much for both their teams. Ezor kept trying to "help" by making repeated grabs for the gear stick, while Zethrid wanted to know why it didn't go faster. Sure, their work ute was old. She was rusty and didn't like going into gear half the time, but that was usually half the fun

"She's never riding in the front again"

"Nope. Anyway, how about you? How do you feel? I know you don't love crowds"

"I'm alright. Though, I probably would have walked away the first time someone asked for my autograph"

"I can see that. Sooo many people... I want to tackle you down into our bed and hold you all night, but now we have to go to dinner"

"I wouldn't mind a good tackling"

Rolling his eyes, Lance let Keith go

"No tackling for you. I'm going to grab a jumper to replace this jacket. Is there anything you want from the closet?"

"I'm good. I'm dressed alright, aren't I?"

 Black skinny leg jeans with a black shirt... Keith was definitely more than alright

"Maybe just a jacket. Here, put mine on, it's prewarmed and everything"

"I need a jacket?"

"You don't need a jacket, but sometimes it gets really cold here at night. Mami couldn't care less what you wear, as long your hands are washed and you eat way too much"

"We're having dinner in the tent, aren't we?"

"We don't fit in the house. Not your team, my team, and the family. It's a quiet dinner tonight, mami messaged me while we were out"

"Oh... I didn't know she did"

"I had to ask her something. It's fine. Now, we need to get a move on. Rachel will eat your dinner if you're late. She'll also break your heart by finishing the last of your birthday cake you were saving for breakfast the following morning, and putting glue in your favourite face cream"

"I don't know who I'm more scared of, your dad or your sisters"

"My sisters. Definitely my sisters. Poor old Jorge is scared of them too"

Keith let out a confused hum of sorts

"Dad is Jorge. Mum is Miriam. Or papi and mami. I've told your their names before"

"I'm sorry... It's just, you always call them "mami" and "papi"... and your mum says to call her "mami""

"Yep. Dad will pretty much answer to everything. It comes from spending so much time around mum. I don't know if Luis and Lisa will be there... but tomorrow night we'll be heading into town for Nadia and Sylvio's school play. Then on Christmas Eve we have midnight mass. We don't have to go to morning mass on Christmas Day, so we can spend that together with our teams. Mami and papi, and the others are going. In the afternoon we'll be handing presents out. Then there's dinner, and fireworks with the kids. Mum's like lowkey catholic when compared to rest of the family. Especially after the existence of aliens were proven. She still believes in god though... Oh, we need to be up earlier tomorrow for the animals. It goes so much faster with more hands, but the cows were pretty uncomfortable waiting to be milked"

 Keith gave a small laugh as he turned in his hold

"Babe, you already told me the schedule"

"I told you we were doing Christmas and New Years here. I didn't tell you absolutely everything. Like usually we have big family dinners from the 18th through to the 1st. I think mami changed all the plans because of what I said. That and I'm not up in the house where she can keep a close eye on me"

"Keeping an eye on you is my job"

"I know. Here, take the jacket already. We need to head out"

    Dinner was loud, and long. Rachel kept shooting him looks before biting her lip and looking away. Lance knew he needed to talk to her, but it was hard when she was at the opposite end of the table. In the end, most the conversation came from Keith's team. Acxa had been forced to sit next to his mother, so she could finally get the woman talking to her. Their siblings had been pretty shocked that Veronica was dating Acxa, but that soon worn off. It was nice to watch as Acxa came out of her shell, even managing smiling and laughing at whatever his mother was saying to her. Down their end of the table, Lance had his hand on Keith's knee as he ate, enjoying the casual contact while Daehra and Lucteal discussed everything new they'd seen for the day. Zak and Tobias had bailed on dinner. Lance was sure he'd seen something suspiciously video game console like in Zak's hold. With a little bit of luck, the game console would keep both aliens out of trouble.

  As the meal came to an end, Lance volunteered himself and Keith for dish duty. Not publicly admitting their competition as they both carried stacks of plates up to the house. The rules were simple. Everything had to arrive in one piece, and whoever was fastest won. The game was ruined when they hit the old wire door. With their hands full, they couldn't hit he magnetic lock, and were left to stand there until his mother finally brought up the rear with the left overs. Sighing heavily at the pair of them, she let them, Lance darting in before Keith could and claiming victory. It was a small win, but a win all the same. Piling into the house, their team members were ushered through to living room. Marco insisted they needed a crash course in Earth Christmas movies. His excuse for why he couldn't help with the dishes, when their mother tried to un-volunteer them. Waiting until his mother filled the kettle, Lance then went about stacking plates in the sink, automatically pulling the cupboard door next to him open so Keith could scrape the plates into the pig bucket.

  For Lance the comfortable silence of the kitchen as everyone fell into place wasn't all that comfortable. The moment the kettle boiled and the teapot filled to brew, his mother gathered up four cups from the rack

"Mijo, leave the dishes for a moment. Your father and I want to talk"

Like he hadn't seen this coming from a quiznakking mile away

"It's alright, mami. We can talk while I wash the dishes. I told Keith about what I said today, so anything you want to say or ask, it's ok"

  Tugging his gloves off, Lance placed them up on the window ledge, then went about rolling his sleeves up. The gloves were waterproof, but he didn't really want them soaking in the remnants of dinner. Grabbing the dishwashing liquid off the sink, he gave a generous squirt before making sure the plug was in place and starting to fill the sink

"Your father and I have some concerns"

"I thought you might do. You can ask... if I can't... answer it just yet, I'll tell you"

"Alright. We want to know what you meant by brain damage. Was it because of the bleed during surgery? Couldn't the pod heal it? Is it permanent?"

Straight for the big one first...

"There's some scarring. I don't remember how it happened, but it couldn't be healed by the pod because it'd already scarred. If they went in to try and fix it, they'd probably end up risking making it worse"

"Mijo..."

 His mother's quivering voice is exactly why kept all of this to himself. Lance's hands gripped the plate in his grasp harder. Sensing his discomfort, Keith stepping while Lance forced himself to loosen his hold

"The damage isn't major. Lance is still Lance. It's mostly time that he gets anxious over, and sometimes he'll forget small things. The scar is located in the temporal lobe, according to his scans. It affects his flight or fight responses, which doesn't help with the PTS or depression, but we've got plans in place to help with things like flashback and panic attacks. We've been working on identifying his triggers and how to calm down a panic attack when he feels one setting in, which isn't always. It hasn't made him any less himself"

  "Surely you can understand why we'd worry"

Breathing out through his nose, Lance finally started scrubbing the dishes, Keith now waiting with a tea towel for him to catch up

"I know, mami. It's hard for me to tell you. I know I acted wrong and didn't... do things how I probably should have after Allura died"

"Mijo, you were hurting. More than we knew... Keith, its very brave of you to face these things with Lance, but how are you? I know how hard it can be to care for someone in a medical sense when you love them"

He was right there. If they wanted him to leave, the could just tell him... No. He was being stupid. His anxieties were being stupid. Of course his parents wanted to know if Keith was handling things

"I'm alright. I mean. It's not always easy. We've always been good at riling each other up, and Lance is still healing, but he's trying so hard. It was harder in the beginning. I... had feelings for him before he started dating Allura, and when we ran into each other again, I didn't understand anything that was happening, or going through his head. I wasn't even sure Lance was Lance with how drastically he'd changed"

"I worry for you both. Your both so young. Please make sure that you're taking time for yourself"

"I have been, but honestly I'm happier with him than alone. I didn't have much of a family life growing up. When we met, I was warped and jaded from all the stuff I'd seen in the foster system, so when Lance started acting like everyone's brother, I didn't handle it very well. It took phoebs to realise that who he was, and that he wasn't pushing himself to pretend to care. I didn't have much faith left in humanity, but then before I knew it, I took control of Voltron and Lance was my right hand man. Voltron never would have succeeded without him"

  A few ticks passed before his mother's next question came

"You said people hurt you for the red lion. What happened to them? Did they get everyone who hurt you?"

"Yeah. They're taken care of. Kre'el made sure of that. They worked for her, without knowing they did. When they hurt me without her permission... stuff happened. Basically, they won't be coming back"

"And the man you worked for?"

"Dead. He's dead. I've handed everything I had over to Shiro and Keith's mum. I need to stop being stuck in the past. I want to give this thing between Keith and I a real shot... and I don't ever want to scare you guys again"

"You said you bought an outpost? For you and Keith? You're not staying on?"

  His mother wasn't trying to be accusing, but yet again his anxieties went there

"I'm not finished with my job. I like the work I'm doing. Helping people that Voltron wasn't able to help. Helping to keep space safe and calm. It's an old rebel base that they couldn't use anymore so moved on from. The money I gave them for it is only going to end up going back through the system and to the people who need it. It's not too far from Erathus, and a little over a movement to Daibazaal. Plus, the police out there totally owe me for doing the prison transfer out there so it shouldn't be too bad"

"We know you love your job, but if dangerous people..."

"Mami, I could live on Earth and it'll be just as dangerous. I have a really good team. Daehra is like the most amazing medic you could ask for. Lucteal backs me where I lack in hand to hand combat. There isn't anything in existence that Zak can't hack his way into. Tobias is... he's there. Plus, I have support from Shiro and Coran. It's not like it was before. I'm slowly trying to let everyone back in again. Like you and papi. And I want to talk to Rachel and V. I think Luis and Marco are just happy I haven't drunk myself senseless yet..."

"They worry for you"

"I know, mami. But there's worrying, and there's smothering. Veronica already tried to smother me. I really wish she'd taken time off sooner. She neeeds it. She's so cranky up there, she's even got poor Shiro scared"

"She's always been head strong. I guess there's nothing we can say to convince you to stay on Earth?"

  Lance let gave a mental sigh. How we're parents able to lay the guilt on without changing their tone? His stomach was starting to roll with the festering feeling forming inside him

"No. Mami, I will always love Earth. It was my home and the place I longed to come back to every single day I was in space, but it... other than this house and all of you, it doesn't feel right for me anymore. I thought we'd come home to Earth. I thought we'd stop the Galra before they even spread out this far... but not it's like I don't belong out there, with everyone else here. The streets have changed. There's so many strangers and I don't know what's even going on in Earth politics anymore. I love you guys and the farm. I couldn't imagine not having that in my life, but until I'm better, I need to keep doing what I'm doing. Plus, my therapist is on Erathus. It's easy for me to get there from where the outpost is"

"You were always like this is a child, running off whenever I wanted you stay. I don't want to lose you, my baby"

"You're not losing me. I need this right now, and I need... Keith says I need to do what I need to do for me. I'd rather lose a finger and find happiness, than having kept the finger and lost all of this"

"I still can't believe what they did to your hand, and those nasty blaster burns"

"They've healed. I'm physically fine. Just a bit bruised around the mental edges. I'm in a better place... no, that makes it sound too much like I've died. I'm doing better than I was"

"Don't think I don't remember you said you died! Why didn't you tell us?!"

  The plate Lance was scrubbing slipped from his hand as he flinched. He could feel the tightness in his chest starting to build. The voice of anxiety whispering how he would never have disappointed his parents if he'd just stayed dead. Trying to ignore it, he pulled the plate back out again. He just had to be normal for a little longer. A little longer, then he could go back to the Telula and snuggled up with Keith in his arms

"Because it was only for a few moments. Allura brought me right back. Plus... there were more important things going on"

"There's nothing more important than your life"

"There is! There's you. There's all of you! Papi, Luis, Marco, Veronica, Rachel... I couldn't come back from something happening to any of you! If my life could stop you all from being hurt, I'd give it every single day of the damn week!"

Placing his hand on his shoulder, Lance shrugged off Keith's touch. His skin prickling under the normally comforting hand. Not taking offence, Keith plucked the plate from Lance's hands

"I'm sorry. I know you have more questions, but I think that's enough for tonight. It's been a really long day for all of us. Let's get these dishes done and head to bed, babe?"

"Yeah.. yeah, your right. It's been a stupidly long day... Why don't you two go watch movies with everyone. Keith and I can finish up here, it's no drama"

"Mijo..."

"I'm ok, mami. I just need to... do this right now. I love you. And I love you, papi"

"We love you too, mijo. And you too Keith. Thank you for all you do for our Lance"

"You're welcome, though he's the one doing all the hard work"

Jorge cleared his throat

"Keith, Lance tells me your pretty handy. Would you mind helping an old man with his tractor? No rush or anything..."

"It's no trouble at all..."

Keith trailed off, unsure what to call his father

"Jorge is fine son, or papi if you feel like it. Make sure you don't stay up to late"

"We won't, Jorge. Thanks for a wonderful dinner, mami"

  Waiting until his parents had left Keith out the tea towel down, before nudging him with his elbow. A slight blush on his husband's cheeks

"Is it really ok to call him Jorge?"

"He said so. Thanks for being here... It gets so hard to tell them anything. Mami worries and papi worries, then I worry about them..."

"Your parents are really nice"

There was a tinge of sadness in Keith's voice that had Lance abandoning the dishes, his anxieties didn't matter as he hastily wiped his hands on his jeans before reaching up to cup Keith's cheeks. Gently kissing his husband, the indulged himself as one soft kiss turned to three, a smile on Keith's lips as he broke away to stare into his husband's eyes. Reaching up with his left hand, he brushed a few stray hairs back from Keith's forehead

"You're so beautiful, babe. I love you. I hope you know how happy you make me"

Blinking at him, Keith leaned into kiss him, much harder and more passionately than the soft and tender kisses he'd bestowed upon his husband's soft lips. Moaning into the kiss, Lance felt dizzy from the attention, his stupid knees having the ordasity to go weak.

  Forcing himself to break the kiss, they both smiled at each other like the lovestruck idiots they were

"Wow..."

"Yeah... sorry if it was too much"

"No. No... that was... let's get these dishes done. I feel like you just kissed all the stress out of me in one go"

"Oh, is that an invitation to do it again?"

"Mmm, as tempting as it is, let's save that for bed. If you keep kissing me, I'm going to end up on the floor in a goopy loved up puddle, and these dishes will never be done"

"I like the sound of that"

"I know you do, and that's the problem. But if you're a good boy, I promise you a special treat"

Covering his mouth and nose, Keith pulled away as he laugh-snorted. Faking offence, Lance huffed as he turned back to the dishes

"So rude"

"I'll be good. I just can't keep up with you sometimes. I could smell how agitated you'd become, but the next tick were kissing and laughing"

"And who's fault is that? Honestly. You're too beautiful for your own good"

"Nah, we both know you're the beautiful one. I'm the hot one"

  Turning to gape at his husband, Keith shot him finger guns. The half-Galra had no idea what he started, but Lance was now going to prove how hot he could be.

     *

With both their teams falling asleep while watching some snowy Christmas movie, Lance pulled Keith back to the privacy of the Telula. Washing all the dishes had been draining, but a second wave of unexpected energy had crashed through him thanks to Keith and him getting lost in the kitchen. What was the point of shutting the cutlery draw when there was more cutlery to go away? And how managed to forget twice where it was... Lance would never know.

 Leading his husband through to their room, he pushed Keith down onto their bed, before climbing up and straddling his lap

"Babe?"

"Shhh... I've got this"

He didn't know if he had this. He simply wanted to feel Keith beneath his fingers. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Keith's as he started taking his gloves off, when his husband started kissing back, he broke the kiss to start kissing down his chin and across his throat

"Shit... babe..."

Getting his pesky gloves off, they went flying. His hands moving to Keith's hips as wriggled down his husband's legs, mouthing harder at his neck as he went

"I love you... I love you so fucking much"

  Sucking a deep possessive hicky on Keith's neck, Lance pulled back to survey his work, a smirk on his lips. Keith was biting his bottom lip as he stared up at him. God. The man was the epitome of sex appeal. Shifting his weight, he grabbed hold of the bottom of his jumper, tugging both it and his shirt free in one smooth move. He was actually momentarily surprised at how well he managed to execute the move without klutzing it up

"Lance?"

"Take your shirt off. I want to see you"

Nodding, Keith sat up so he could. Accidentally hitting Lance in the chin in his rush to obey. Laughing at his alarmed looking husband, Lance moved his hands up to "help" free Keith of his shirt and jacket, before throwing them to join his gloves, his lips smashing into Keith's as he pushed him back down, and slid back up so he was straddling the forming tent in Keith's jeans. Letting out a growl, Keith rolled his hips as he broke the kiss, hands going to Lance's arse

"You're so fucking sexy"

  Groaning as Keith's gripped him hard, he was struck in the face the scent of Keith's desire. He didn't want to just have sex. He didn't want to think about his pleasure, he wanted to make Keith feel loved. He knew a happy family home came with lingering pain for the man he loved, so he wanted to show Keith just how damn loved he was

"Hey, tonight it's about you babe. Let me make you feel good?"

"I want to touch you"

"Mmm, but let me touch you first..."

Grinding down against Keith, Keith let out a sinful moan

"See, baby. Let me take care of you"

  They had rules. Sleeping with underwear on was non-negotiable. Preferably with pyjama bottoms but sometimes they were too tired to go to the effort. Above or "through" contact was alright, provided Lance gave clear permission, and Keith would stop if it all got too much or smelt something was wrong. Awkward morning boners were politely excused, and wet dreams too. If Lance grew too wet and soaked through his underwear, Keith would wake him so he could clean up... which was still a little mortifying, even when his husband meant well. Waiting for Keith to nod, Lance began peppering open mouth kisses to the half-Galra's throat, letting out small moans at the feeling of Keith's skin so openly exposed to him. There was something about being so intimate and completely control that made him feel like he was unstoppable. Keith was allowed to use force on him in the case that he flipped out. But his husband wouldn't. He'd only agreed to satisfy him and they both knew it. Making his way down Keith's chest, he pressed kisses to the scars there, tracing his hands up his lovers abs. Keith might call him beautiful, but he was nothing when compared the man between his legs. Reaching his left pec, Lance traced the muscles outline with his tongue, Keith arching beneath him as he paused to blow across the trail, then moved to tease the small bud of his left nipple into a stiff peak with tongue. Biting lightly, he hummed happily when Keith growled at him, hands gripping his arse even harder.

  Pressing a kiss to the centre of Keith's chest, his right nipple was already a hard bud, taking it into his mouth, he sucked firmly, rolling his hips as he did. Keith wasn't sure if he liked his nipples being touched, where as Lance's were constantly sensitive under his lover's ministrations. A playful flick never failed to send a jolt through his groin. Their time on Daibazaal hadn't been all meetings and gloom. Some light mutual touching had morphed into something a little more. Rules formed and broken, but they'd never crossed the line back into sex or beyond a mutual handjob. He'd been too worried about Earth to be in the right frame of mind. Whining at him, Lance pulled off Keith's reddened nipple to stare down at his husband before hungrily claiming his lips again.

  Moving his hands up Lance's back, Keith rolled them so Lance's long legs were wrapped around his waist as broke the kiss in favour of furiously nuzzling into Lance's neck, dropping soft kisses to the flesh as he dragged his teeth across the curve and down to his collar bone

"Babe... you're so fucking beautiful"

Biting down on his collar bone, Lance let out a surprised gasp that was suspiciously moan like. He could feel a sudden rush of wetness between his legs as Keith rutted up against him

"So beautiful... so beautiful babe..."

Moving up to claim his lips again, Lance felt like he was melting. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, but damn if he didn't feel like the most loved and wanted man in the world. He could... He was learning how to let go. Keith never judged him. Keith would never judge him when they were like this... He was still opening up and allowing himself to be open beneath Keith, but his husband truly loved him for him, no matter what he'd been through. It was intoxicating to know that it wasn't his messed up body, but he himself that his husband wanted. Breaking the kiss, Keith stared down at him

"Babe?"

"I'm ok... I'm ok... God, I love you. You... make me so happy"

Smiling, Keith leaned into kiss him softly, ending the kiss sweetly to rest his forehead against Lance's

"Not as happy as you make me... Can I eat you out?"

Lance let out a breathy laugh

"Babe, the whole point of tonight was I wanted to show you how much I love you. I want to focus on you tonight"

"Nothing making me happier than you... and I want to do this. I want to taste you on my tongue"

  How was he supposed to say no to that? Especially when his body was so damn eager for it... he just... he was saving sex for a little further on... maybe a few days if everything went right. He wanted it to be really special and perfect for them both... and had it all mentally planned

"No sex. I mean... I..."

"It's alright. I want to touch you. If you don't feel comfortable, I promise to stop"

"Ok... go slow?"

"Always"

    Stripped beneath Keith, his husband insisted on echoing his earlier movements. Teasing his nipples until Lance was wet enough that the sheet beneath his arse was thoroughly soaked. Pulling him down the bed, the wetness smeared up his back as his legs were pushed open, Keith's fingernails scraping as he gripped his legs. Blushing, Lance grabbed his pillow, covering his face

"Babe? Are you ok?"

"Mhmm"

Squeaking, Lance forced himself to peak over the pillow

"Then why are you hiding?"

"Because I'm like... completely exposed here"

They might both be naked, but Keith wasn't the one with his arse and junk on display

"I know. It's a great view"

Groaning, Lance pulled the pillow back up

"Babe, if you're not comfortable"

"It's... exposing"

"Then you're going to love what comes next"

  Throwing his pillow at Keith, Keith dodged with ease before burying his between Lance's legs, the Cuban letting out a choked cry of pleasure as Keith's tongue lapped at his leaking opening, the inside of his thighs trembling

"Quiznak... oh... fuck..."

Keith had the nerve to snort lightly, before slipping the tip of his tongue in, Lance throwing his hands out to fist the sheets as his husband moaned, hips rocking in desperate need for more than just the tip of his tongue. Fuck... fuck... there was no way he could last, and he'd only just started... oh quiznak...

"Keith... fuck..."

  Panting and shaking, Lance lost himself chasing the pleasure of Keith's mouth and fingers. With his hand wrapped around his dick, his husband alternated between eating him out and blowing his brains out. The soft laps along his leaking slit contrasted against the hard way Keith all but shoved his face against arse, eating him like there was no tomorrow while Lance fucked himself on his husband's tongue. His whole body was shaking, so close to orgasm that it was cruel. With his chest heaving, he licked at his dry lips. He wanted to come...

 "You can come, baby. You come come... you don't need to beg"

 Lance didn't know he'd been begging... Keith's hold on his dick was the only thing keeping him from coming. Pulling off his arse, Keith sank his mouth down Lance's shaft, still holding him tight as he worked the tip... The stupid purple eyed bastard had said he could come... so why wasn't he letting him... he wanted to come... he was hard... properly hard... tears prickling in his eyes, hands sore from holding the sheets so tightly. Sliding off with a lewd pop, Lance whimpered at Keith's breath against the tip of his dick

"Come down my throat... want to taste it"

Sinking back down, Keith released his hold, jerking him as Lance swore the whole world imploded with pleasure, hips stuttering as Keith drank him dry. Holy fucking quiznak... Keith was... Keith was jerking off to him? Warmth splattered across his arse and thigh as Keith let out a long growl... fuck... fuck...

  Coming hard enough to fall completely boneless, Keith kissed his inner thighs before lowering his legs off his shoulders. Climbing up, his husband collapsed next to him, brow damp with sweat as he grinned, a hand lazily coming up to pat around on Lance's chest until Lance raised his hand to capture Keith's. Lance hoped his husband knew how much effort that took and how floaty he felt in the after glow of probably the bet orgasm of his life. Laying there, they both caught their breaths, Keith wriggling to lay up against him, nuzzling and kissing his shoulder

"Babe? You ok?"

"Mhmm..."

"Ok... fuck... you came so hard it came out my nose"

Laughing weakly, Keith rubbed his nose against his arm, Lance wrinkling his face up in disgust

"I've got enough cum on me, that I don't need more. Can you stand?"

"Hmm, what?"

"Never mind... I need to clean up..."

Their mixed cum was starting to dry against his skin, the feeling not the greatest, and if he allowed himself to focus on it too long, the bliss and heat of the moment would turn to fear

"I'm going to take a shower. Do you want me to bring you back a cloth?"

Keith sighed at him, flinging a leg over his hips to keep him in place

"Do we need to clean up?"

"As someone who's slept in their own filth, I need to clean up"

He didn't exactly snap, but Lance's tone took on a hard edge

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for, especially after that orgasm. I need to clean up, babe. Can you please let me up?"

Keith slid his leg back

"Yeah, babe. Sorry. I didn't think of that"

"No, don't say sorry... We're... boundaries right?"

Kissing his shoulder again, Keith propped himself up

"Here, let's get you up and in the shower, then I'll change our sheets"

"Thanks... and... that felt really good..."

"Mmm, you taste really good"

Going for a kiss, Lance pushed him back

"Nope. I'm not being kissed while you're all "juicy". That's a no go. Now, carry me? My legs are like jelly"

  Realising his hand, Keith grabbed him up and threw him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Slapping his husband's arse, Lance let out a laugh. This wasn't what he meant. He'd been joking for the most part. His legs did feel like jelly, but now Keith had gone and recovered with his stupid Galra stamina and made off with him like it was nothing. He was supposed to be reminding his husband that he was the hot one! Now he was stuck staring at Keith's glorious arse and toned back... it wasn't fair. Hot. Smart. Kind. Gorgeous and strong as hell... Stupid perfect Keith and his stupid perfect mullet.

[anonthenullifier]

Considering how many times Thomas gets called to detention, it would probably come as a huge shock to their parents if William was the one they had to come talk about.

You really have a knack for giving me prompts that lead to a sudden word dump of ideas. Here’s how it could go down, in my mind.

Wanda steps a foot back, arms held up and steady as her fingers weave a scarlet net to contain a cluster of the floating blobs - or, as Scott has lovingly named them, Snot Aliens. Slowly she hovers the imprisoned beings towards the containment unit Stark finally set up, inching the aliens closer while ensuring she is out of range in case they drop to the ground. She’s already seen almost all of her teammates fall prey to the fatal error of directly engaging with these things, Steve’s shield is still stuck to the ground with an, as Vision explained, impressively structured natural adhesive compound. Wanda figures she has paid her penance in the realm of encountering mucous, raising twin boys who caught every single cold that was passed at daycare, school, between friends, and even just people passing on the street, and instead of blowing their noses (kleenex were a sure way to cause a tantrum), the boys would find ways to wipe it on her. The net tightens with a scrunch of her fingers, only two more feet before she can let go.

A buzzing fills her ear, not the typical two note burst that indicates someone on the team is about to talk, but a constant, unwelcome ringing. Wanda straightens her pinky enough to send a flash of red to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Maximoff,” the voice is perky, the polite smile clear in the hyperactive spewing of her name, “this is Jody from the Principal’s office.”

One hand pulls away from holding the aliens long enough to rub her face in exasperation, Jody is never who she wants to find on the other end and yet even her phone recognizes the frequency of their conversations enough to label Jody as a favorite in the contacts. Wanda tries to imbue her response with friendliness while also hoping the woman can pick up on the fact it is not a good time. “Hi Jody, everything okay?”

“We have your son at the office,” it’s an innocuous enough statement, minus the judgmental harshness of the unspoken again.

Wanda glances at the scarlet net and then at the numerous official news cameras and the even more multitudinous amateur videographers filming the entire attack. “Can we come in some other time, we’re a bit,” one of the aliens starts to ooze through the net, a sickening sight that will haunt her dreams for the week, “busy right now.”

A well-oiled sigh, one that has likely taken years to perfect, judges her through the communicator, “At the Academy we truly believe the children are the pinnacle of existence, no one should ever be too busy for their child.”

Which is a statement that, though true on the face of it, really doesn’t apply, in Wanda’s opinion, to dropping a net full of noxious Snot Aliens just to be lectured for a sixth time on why Tommy is apparently doomed to fail in life because he wore the wrong khakis.“Have you seen the news?”

“I have a job to do, Mrs. Maximoff.”

The correct answer here is that Wanda also has a job, a very interesting one that is also important and that some things can wait, yet she gives in, not wanting to risk losing their spots at the one school so far that the boys seem to mostly enjoy. “Fine, we’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Maximoff.”

The line dies in her ear and Wanda shakes her head, wrists snapping flippantly as she tosses the aliens towards the containment unit, ignoring the Watch it! from Tony, and finds her husband, who is currently flickering in and out of existence. “Maximoff?”

His body solidifies long enough to showcase a sheepish roundness to his eyes and the neon green patch of slime that covers the entirety of his chest. “Wanda?” The phasing resumes, likely his foolhardy attempt to get the substance off of him.

“Jody called.”

Vision stops, head cocked to the side as his cape floats regally down behind him, “Tommy?”

“I assume so.”

His shoulders cave and he might, though it could just be a trick of the shadows caused by the buildings, rolls his eyes. “What is it this time?”

Wanda shrugs, “She didn’t say.” Her hand sneaks between his arm and torso, coming to rest on the inside of his elbow, careful to stay away from the slime, and tugs him into action, “Let’s just get this over with.”

The hallways are empty as they follow the memorized path, their feet moving automatically as their hands take turns gesticulating their concerns. “I believe we need to rethink our forms of punishment.”

Wanda agrees, the continued disobedience at school an undeniable signal that Tommy isn’t learning much from their lectures and grounding. “I don’t even know what else is left, Vizh.”

“I believe you do.” A reluctant, grave foreboding drips from his sentence and she immediately knows the next logical step, one they’ve tiptoed towards but can never seem to justify actually going that far, particularly because the offenses are usually so small. Vision, if she tried to argue that now, would point out that, though small, the conglomeration of all the offenses is actually enormous, especially if they look beyond just this school and at the others, some of Tommy’s behaviors the impetus for them no longer welcomed at those institutions.

Regardless of the rationale, Wanda can’t bring herself to agree. “The Young Avengers is literally the only thing that keeps him somewhat manageable.” The number of offenses and backtalk at home have greatly decreased in the time the Young Avengers Initiative has been active, and the peace from that is hard to willinging give up. “It could lead to worse behavior.”

“Or,” Vision draws it out, allowing her to interpret his disagreement before directly going against her, “it could show him that he needs to act in accordance to certain standards if he wants to be part of it.” A hand to her arm stops her right before they reach the glass walls of the office, turning her to face his sympathetic, swirling eyes. “We cannot always protect him from himself, at some point we have to let him face the full consequences.”

It was easy to shrug off this statement three years ago, five years ago, and especially twelve, when they were still just rambunctious toddlers, yet the closer the reality of them becoming adults, of forging their own paths in the world gets, the greater the panic that rises in Wanda. She knows they’ll be fine, both are strong (and strong-headed), fiercely independent, compassionate boys, but they are still her boys and she isn’t sure she’ll ever let go of needing to protect them. Neither will Vision, based on his confessions in the middle of the night whenever the twins are out on a mission, or the way she has to talk him down from following along and watching them or from immediately correcting them on all of their social mishaps. “Let’s just see what it is this time, okay?”

“That is reasonable.” Vision leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, an understanding smile on his face when he pulls back. “Should I change?”

They’re both still in uniform, the after effects of the battle untouched. “No,” Wanda doesn’t have the luxury of phasing into new clothes and has no desire to be singled out even more by Vision changing, “they think we don’t work, so let them experience it,” she pats his shoulder, steering clear of the gunk still clinging to his chest, “nasty smell and all.”

“Shall we?”

Wanda leads the way, opening the door with a forced smile at Jody before turning towards the chair with a, “Tommy what did–” except the face she meets doesn’t have the cocky I-can-get-away-with-anything grin nor is his hair white or his feet and hands tapping with pent up energy. No, instead she is staring into terrified, ashamed doe-like eyes, “Billy?”

“Um,” he swallows, fingers lacing together in nervousness, mirroring the exact grasp Vision uses when faced with something overwhelming and incomprehensible. “Hi mom, dad.”

“Will-” her husband stutters out the name, which makes her feel better to not be alone in this shock, “William, what is wrong?”

A curt, invasive “Ahem,” comes from the woman barricaded behind the sleek lines of the oak and glass desk, “You know the rules.” Jody follows it up with a cheerily malevolent smile, “I’ll buzz Dr. Bennett to let her know you’re finally here.”

The wait is just over five minutes before the door opens, a promising sign given Vision has provided graphs tracking the data of these visits, analyzing it to confirm a significantly positive correlation between the severity of the offense and the time they have to wait before seeing the principal. Wanda turns towards Billy, who is still wilting in his chair, trying to keep her voice sympathetic but also firm, “We’ll be back.”

Vision places his hand on Wanda’s lower back as she enters the office in front of him, their bodies easing into the familiar and uncomfortable chairs where they will encounter unwarranted levels of scrutiny from the vaguely concerned face across from them. “Dr. Bennett.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff,” the woman scrunches her nose, hand rising delicately to her face in disgust, “What is that smell?”

Wanda holds in her snigger at the flare of humiliation from her husband’s mind, his body squirming slightly under the disgusted gaze of the Principal. “I am,” he coughs, eyes turning to Wanda for help but she just smiles, hand patting his arm. “My apologies, we were battling lifeforms today with a very different chemical composition, one that is quite unappealing to our own senses. I-” Dr. Bennett’s face only becomes more troubled the longer the explanation lasts, “could not get the residue off.”

“I see,” her attention turns away from the smell and to the papers on her desk, ones that are always splayed out just enough to require her to sift them back together with three precise taps to the desk. “I’m happy to let you know that William has already accepted his actions and the required afternoon of detention.”

This is not usually how their talks with her go. “Then why are we here?”

“Because, Mrs. Maximoff,” the now aligned stack of papers is laid gingerly on the desk where the woman steeples her fingers over them, “we believe it is vital to apprise parents of misbehavior in person and in a timely manner. From our experience, even the most well-intentioned students do not convey the full truth if we allow them to be the messenger.”

Vision tenses beside her, never comfortable with the roundabout, deeply layered insinuations people insist on issuing in meetings, far preferring straightforward approaches. “We understand, what precisely did he do?”

A single paper is moved from the stack on the desk as the reads off of it, “Truancy during the lunch period.”

This isn’t what Wanda expected, nor did Vision, if his confused side stare towards her is an indication. “Did he say why he left?”

“The teacher who reported it said she saw him get into a car with another young gentleman and then not return until the end of the lunch period.” Dr. Bennett’s face informs them that this offense is just as severe as the soccer goal Tommy vaporized the other month. “We have very strict rules concerning students remaining on the campus during the school day.”

“I see,” Wanda doesn’t doubt the actions, her own suspicions quite strong on the motivation, and she most certainly has no desire to remain in the office since Billy already agreed to the punishment. “Thank you for letting us know.” She stands, a movement instantly mimicked by Vision and the principal, “have a good day.”

A wave of her hand encourages Vision out of the office, a long, unwavering stare at Billy let’s him know to follow them, and then Wanda leads the two men to a small alcove. She turns to Billy, the crossing of her arms causing him to shrink in stature just a bit more. “So how’s Teddy?”

Vision’s surprise is palpable and adorably naive, particularly from a man who turned off his communicator to sneak away with Wanda. Billy’s surprise is feigned, nervous and instantly shifts into a weak defensiveness. “You know it’s ridiculous we aren’t allowed to leave at lunch. I was back on time.”

“There are rules though,” the thing about being a parent is that even when you agree with your child’s rationale, sometimes you have to recognize that your agreement is not as important as the lesson. “You could just wait until after school.”

Billy nods, eyes not quite meeting hers, “Yeah, but he had a flex day and-“

“Being in a relationship,” Vision’s intrusion quiets the explanation, his face set in an empathetic softness, “is very exciting, especially at the onset. But it is imperative to learn when it is appropriate to embrace that excitement and when you can delay the gratification until a better time.”

“I’m sorry, won’t happen again.” Vision smiles, proud of figuring out how to handle the situation, Billy far more receptive to his logic than Tommy. This however tends to blind him to the fact that Billy still has a lot of Wanda too, the grin inching up his face a trademark Maximoff I’m-about-to-sass-you-with-my-defiance look. “You do know there are entire blogs dedicated to all the times you and mom make out during missions, right?”

“I-“ if flustered Vision wasn’t so damn cute, Wanda would counter back, but watching him flounder in the face of resistance is quality entertainment. “I um, there are?”

Billy nods, torn between enthusiasm and disdain, “Cassie likes to send them to us.”

“I see.”

“Let’s just agree for now,” Wanda does her best to contain her amusement at watching the two of them, “that context matters and in this context the school has rules that should be followed so you can deal with their punishment and we’ll call it good.”

Billy sighs, resigned to the illogic of the moment, “Fine.” The lesson presumably learned (or at least accepted for now), Wanda laces her arm through Vision’s, about to say goodbye until Billy sniffs three times, “Dad, you smell worse than Tommy’s socks.”

Vision’s body sinks in her grasp, an exasperated, “I am aware” dispelling any last defiance or negative feelings from their talk.

[phati-sari]

Why do you think Arnav wasn't a virgin before Kushi He was really uncomfortable with touching Lavanya & when he was in USA he was with an indian introvert girl Can you message me the answer in private since you said that you don't like how people react to it

PSA (Phati Sari Announcement): I am not interested in a debate over this issue. These are my views and everyone is entitled to disagree or agree as they wish. This is a deeply personal topic because many people have qualities they want in an ideal partner and virginity is sometimes one of them. My saying that I believe Arnav was not a virgin, then, will seem like a personal attack to some. But this is my space and I’m allowed to hold whatever views I wish. If you respect my opinions and arguments, then that respect should be afforded when you agree with me, and when you disagree. I am free to believe Arnav was not a virgin and free to believe that he was an alien, and whether you agree or disagree is up to you. I’m not pushing a particular view on anyone, and would appreciate it if people didn’t decide to “correct” or “educate” me. All it’s going to do is upset both of us. 

A huge huge thank you to @puranijeans​ for helping me out and keeping me sane today! I love you and appreciate you and I do not deserve you.

Hello @dodo8585 :)

I’ve decided to answer this in public because I think it’s important.

The first thing you need to understand is why I am uncomfortable with answering this question. Most people already know what they believe about Arnav’s virginity. He either was a virgin or he wasn’t. There’s an element of confirmation bias around any conversation we have on this topic – people accept only the evidence that supports their view and ignore evidence that goes against it.

I’m not against having a discussion, but often people expect me to defend my views with no intention of changing their own or even defending their position. I honestly don’t care what others think, I have my opinion and I’m happy with it, but I’ve noted that I’m not afforded the same courtesy by others. Even your question frames the situation as “Why do you hold this view when I noticed this and this?”

The short and simple answer is that I view the serial differently from you. And that’s okay.

The (super) long answer is:

Lavanya’s behaviour

When Lavanya moved into Shantivan she expected to be staying in Arnav’s room with him. He expected the same, and it was only Nani’s insistence that she stay in the guestroom that resulted in the situation we saw. Arnav even objected to it in the first instance.

I understand that people excuse this by saying that Arnav was going for the shock value of the arrangement, but I don’t think there was anything in his demeanor to suggest that. He wanted to have a live-in relationship with his girlfriend and an essential part of live-in is the sharing of private space, which in Shantivan is his bedroom.

Lavanya was confident that she could visit Arnav at night dressed in a nightgown. I realise that a lot of people code this confidence as “slutty”, but that feels very slut-shamy to me. There are very few types of women who invite themselves to a man’s bedroom without being confident that she will be received positively. And Lavanya, some six months into her relationship with ASR, doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who would risk his ire. She keeps a list of everything that annoys him, and late night visits in nightgowns apparently don’t appear on it.

Her immediate assumption that it was Arnav tickling her (when it was really Lakshmi) in the very same episode also indicates a level of intimacy that goes beyond what they’re allowed to show in desi serials. And this is an important for me because many people argue that they never explicitly shown being intimate!

Neither were Shyam and Anjali, and yet no one is arguing that her conception was immaculate.

Lavanya made a habit of touching Arnav. She touched him often, with haq, and so casually that it implied a deeper intimacy. For example, there is a scene where Lavanya places her hand on Arnav’s upper thigh while speaking to him. She does it without fanfare, and neither of them has any reaction to it, which spoke volumes to me. That’s an area of a man’s body one generally doesn’t touch unless there is a high level of familiarity and intimacy.

A lot of these points are ignored by those who believe Arnav was a virgin. These people genuinely seem to believe that Lavanya behaved like this because she was immoral or wanted sex regardless of Arnav’s wishes, and while they are welcome to their views, I don’t agree.

Arnav’s behaviour

You pointed out that he was really uncomfortable with touching Lavanya. I agree that he was, but only after Khushi became a permanent fixture in his life. When she was first introduced, Arnav had absolutely no issue with Lavanya feeding him cake, kissing his cheek, and even went as far as to tell her that she was one of the few people who could waste his time. I think he stopped being comfortable with physical intimacy with Lavanya when he knew he was sexually attracted to Khushi.

As tempting as it is to shunt Lavanya off and decide that Arnav never cared about her, my interpretation is that she meant a great deal to him. He wasn’t in love with her, but he wasn’t in love with anyone and didn’t think he would ever fall in love. By all accounts, he was a dedicated and honest partner. If she wanted more and he couldn’t give it to her, it was because he was incapable of giving more at the time, not because he was purposefully holding back a part of himself for his True Love.

After all, he claimed not to believe in marriage or love when we met him. If he wasn’t waiting for his future wife, and if he wasn’t waiting for his True Love, then why would be remain celibate? I’m not saying that men are sex-hungry monsters or anything, but Arnav has none of the drivers most people have for remaining celibate. He isn’t religious, and so didn’t believe in repercussions around sex before marriage, and he wasn’t “saving himself” for a wife or True Love.

He was twenty-six when we met him, and I just can’t see why he would remain a virgin when he doesn’t seem to have a reason to.

Breaking the bed

One of the most important things that happened before the remarriage is that Arnav’s bed was replaced. The bed they broke was a symbolic and visual negation of any sexual relationships in Arnav’s past. Even if he had slept with anyone else in that bed, it was replaced before he and Khushi were intimate. In a way, it ensured that their marital bed was solely theirs, a bed they broke in made their own after marriage.

Sheetal

I guess the main reason people believe Arnav was a virgin before Khushi is because he was absolutely sure that he hadn’t slept with Sheetal in college and told Khushi as much. I agree that he said he didn’t sleep with Sheetal, but I have a different interpretation of what he meant when he followed it up with the declaration that he wasn’t “that type of guy”.

On one hand, I think that the writers tried to back away from the narrative that Arnav had clearly slept with women before Khushi. Perhaps it was a way to get the conservative audience on board, perhaps it was because they forgot, but I think they established Arnav one way and then tried to fudge it over in the Sheetal track.

On the other hand, I think there is a difference between having sex before marriage and being promiscuous, and that Arnav could have easily meant that he wasn’t the type of guy who slept with any and every girl. He had previously given Khushi a very long list of past flames as a joke, and she seemingly followed it up with the assertion that he’d fathered Aarav. I think Arnav linked the two and tried to reassure her that he wasn’t the kind of guy who had casual hookups.

Values and commitment

The typical audience for the serial is an Indian woman. And for cultural and religious reasons, this audience equates “commitment” with “marriage”. The idea that Arnav could’ve been committed and dedicated to the point of needing a level of emotional intimacy before engaging in physical intimacy seems to be completely alien to a majority of this audience.

He is either seen as someone who was too busy for sexual relationships, someone who went through the motions of a relationship without wanting or needing any aspects of it. Someone who was completely disinterested in women but let them hang around him for Reasons. But his behaviour with Lavanya never suggested this, in my opinion, so I don’t agree with it.

Or he is seen as a man-whore, someone who banged everything in a skirt (including and not limited to prostitutes), because a lack of belief in love and marriage must equate to a lack of respect for women and an inability to commit.

This is the sort of thinking that Khushi fell prey to. Maybe some part of the audience agreed with her when she argued for the merits of marriage to Lavanya but I think Khushi was laughably ignorant there. Because if the only thing preventing a man from trading a woman in for a younger model (or two!) is his marriage vows then there is something fundamentally wrong in that relationship, whether it is called marriage or not. And this serial is full of men to whom it did not matter any way.

I believe Arnav was a dedicated and committed partner, but that his definition of commitment did not include marriage. I believe he didn’t need the label of Husband, didn’t require his partner to be labelled a Wife, and I think it makes sense given his history.

If not love or marriage, what then was the point of Arnav’s relationships with Lavanya and Sheetal (and Lisa of the fur coat)? I’m not suggesting that every relationship needs to be sexual – many of them aren’t and that’s perfectly understandable – but it still defies logic, in my opinion, to assume that Arnav spent the entirety of his adult life engaged in relationships that weren’t satisfying to him in the ways he needed.

Are we suggesting that he was so starved of people fawning over him that he sought out a special person who’d fawn over him in private and at command?

[apparitionism]

Streets 4

This is a story. In it, people talk a lot. Plus they get into and out of cars, for the purposes of driving and walking in San Francisco. Part 1, part 2, and part 3 came before this part.

Streets 4

Obtaining the implement from the gentleman holding it is quite easy—Claudia gives him two twenty-dollar bills, and he does not bother to look twice at her purple-gloved hands as he surrenders the prize. Claudia, for her part, does not bother to look twice at his high-speed scamper away as she drops the torch into a static bag, shouting, “Ha! We win!”

Nothing happens.

Helena pats her on the shoulder. “A lesson in the inadvisability of drawing conclusions based on insufficient evidence. You were so enamored of your Former Files idea.”

Claudia utters a confused “what?”, but then her expression clears. “No, it’s not Ex-Files like ex-husband,” she says. “It’s X-Files like X-ray.”

“Your Roentgen Files idea, then.”

“Well if it wasn’t that guy with the flashlight, then I don’t get it. Somebody just showed up all random and did some abducting? What’s here?”

“Buildings. Sidewalks. Roads. Many, many automobiles, all the drivers of which Ramon has angered. No offense intended, Ramon.”

“Least I ain’t a tourist, man. No offense intended.” He smiles his small smile at Helena, and she smiles back. He goes on, “So we done? If it was a great ride, five stars much appreciated. You guys get five too, just for the entertainment.”

Claudia asks him, “Do you mind hanging out for just a minute while we... scout around? I don’t know where else we’ll need to go.”

Ramon considers for a moment; then he shrugs. “My day off from my real job. So you keep paying me, saves me having to cruise around. You know, angering people.”

Helena laughs. “So we will be paying you to lower the city’s average blood pressure. Money no doubt well spent. But Claudia, public health benefits aside, this is striking me as very similar to hiring a car and driver. Whereas under Pete’s transportation regime, no one compensates him for the labor of driving.”

“Shut up,” Claudia says. “Ramon gets us.”

Helena notes, “Ramon gets money.” Ramon nods. “And of course a rating of several stars.”

He nods again and says, “Plus a little vape right now. Take your time, man.”

They inquire at nearby establishments; no one has seen anything strange. Or they have all grown so accustomed to the vagaries of the human condition that they have trained themselves to overlook anything not immediately harmful.

A convenience-store cashier notes that “anyway, weirdos are nicer than normals.”

At that, Claudia high-fives the cashier. She then turns to do the same to Helena—who does not raise her arm in response, so Claudia folds her flat, upraised hand into a fist and chucks Helena under the chin. “You do you, Pops,” she says.

She can indeed be quite charming, Claudia can.

Claudia turns back to the cashier: “So nevermind the weirdos. Seen anybody get abducted by aliens?”

“Yeah,” says the young lady. She reports it as banal news, but Claudia leaps halfway across the counter at the poor thing, whose eyes widen in non-banal alarm. Helena grabs Claudia’s collar and pulls her back down. “Abducted, you say?” she asks, attempting to match the weary tone, while Claudia makes squeaking noises that sound suspiciously close to “Now we win!”

The cashier shrugs. “I mean some guy staggers in and says he was. Probably just on drugs. He bought sunglasses—the alien lights, way too bright. He said.”

Helena says to Claudia, and she means it as a tease, “An illuminated abduction. Yet another lesson in why it is best to avoid premature conclusions.”

“And gluten-free pretzels,” the cashier volunteers. “Two bags.”

Claudia says, “Maybe the aliens experimented on his digestion.”

“Surely his condition predated the abduction,” Helena says. “To what purpose would any aliens deprive anyone of the ability to process prolamins and glutelins?”

“How can you know exactly what gluten is but not X-Files?”

Helena huffs. “How can you know the things you know and yet imagine that sensitivity to particular proteins is a recent development? Consider my friend Dr. Samuel Gee. My late friend, that is, given that I knew him in the... past. He was the pediatrician who... well. He was an important figure, at any rate, and an area of particular interest for him was coeliac disease. We spoke of it on occasion. I was interested to discover if he, or anyone, had made further progress, in my... absence.” She has cleared her throat several times during this recitation. She feels that her eyes may be reddening. She should never have mentioned such a part of the past, not here, not now; there are things she speaks of only to her therapist and to Myka, for these things make her think, and that is not productive, for now she will be thinking of—

The cashier asks, “Are you high?”

Helena clears her throat again. “Alas, no. Quite low in fact.”

Claudia says, “She means are you on dr—”

This attempt at a helpful definitional interjection does have the effect of sending Helena toward nostalgic amusement rather than... well. “Claudia darling,” she says, “do I truly strike you as someone who does not understand the concept—or pleasures—of being under the influence of substances?”

“That’s right, you were a wild one, weren’t you? Artie hates that. He muttered ‘opium eater’ about you once when he didn’t know I was there—I was practicing my Mrs. F poof-ins.”

“Are you improving?” For Claudia has expressed great frustration at not yet being fully able to surprise her colleagues into shrieking and dropping whatever they might be holding.

“No. Batting less than .300. Like I get the theory, but all that usually happens is that I stand there and feel like I might go somewhere. Like I’m waiting for a bus that never comes.” She brightens. “But it worked that time with Artie. So did you really do that?”

Helena had hoped Claudia would forget her query. “What is the better answer here?” she queries back.

“Tell the truth. Otherwise I’ll just ask you again in front of Steve.”

“If I refuse to answer, he can discern nothing.”

“That just means the answer’s yes. I may not have been born over a hundred years ago, like some people, but I wasn’t born yesterday either.”

The cashier mutters, “Both high...”

Back on the sidewalk, Claudia is the picture of pique crossed with consternation. “So here’s what I say we do now,” she says. “We go find Myka and Pete. Steve didn’t say whose ping happened later, so maybe they’ve got the actual good spot and we can swoop in and get the snag.”

“Investigation is truly not your calling, is it,” Helena remarks as they reenter the minuscule maroon back seat. It is coming to feel quite homey.

“Guess not. My destiny’s written in the stars. Or the aisles of the Warehouse, so whoo! Lucky me.”

“Fortunately, my own destiny at the moment is to act solely as a referee. You could employ best practices, if you wished to, but I am not responsible for insisting that you do so.” So much for competition, she thinks, but then she reconsiders. “Although I suppose preempting Pete and Myka might indeed be a path to victory.”

“I knew it! You do want to win!”

“Well, given the choice. Then again, my investment in Myka’s happiness is ongoing. Perhaps I’ve been sabotaging you the entire time.”

“I don’t buy it. You’re too competitive. I know how you get.”

Helena sees that she will need to modify how she gets. If only so no one will use that expression about her again. She proposes,“Or perhaps it is simply that I want to see Myka. Because we have been apart for nearly four hours, and I miss her.”

“You might be yanking my chain on that—but I doubt it. You’re such a schmoop. I can’t believe I used to think you were this smooth player.” She pauses, as if she expects Helena to object. “At least we know they haven’t won yet. Otherwise Pete’d be gloating.”

“You of course would never stoop so low.”

“Are you kidding? My gloats limbo under everybody else’s.”

Helena sighs. “Would that you were speaking of the holding space for those who have died in friendship with God but prior to Christ’s resurrection.”

“Hey, most people just talk about it being for babies,” Ramon says. “Or they used to, before the Pope said we don’t believe in any those limbos anymore. You Catholic, H.G.?”

“Just overeducated, I’m afraid. For example, Islam has a similar site, or rather concept, known as barzakh.”

Claudia snorts. “I like how you think showing off whatever esoteric whatever makes up for your sad lack of smooth play, but let Ramon concentrate on driving and not some Islamic bar.”

“Limbo,” Helena corrects her.

“I can’t. I’m in a car.”

Ramon chortles. Helena sighs again and consoles herself with the prospect of soon seeing Myka.

She is pleased out of all proportion when they pull to the curb near where Claudia has located Pete’s telephone: because there Myka is, with her hair and her eyes and her sweet, sweet self. And then Myka sees that Helena has emerged from the absurdly small maroon vehicle, and her expression makes clear that Helena has—and possibly they both have—already won the prize most worth winning. “Hello, my love,” Helena says, and she kisses Myka, but quick, on the cheek, so as to give no cause for embarrassment.

It works; Myka responds with bemusement rather than upset. “Aren’t we competing?” she asks, but she is smiling. “By the way.”

“I don’t see how that alters my love for you. By the way. And also by the way, I am aware of no rules prohibiting osculation between competitors.”

Pete rolls his eyes. “There should be a rule against not saying ‘making out’ when you mean ‘making out.’”

“We aren’t ‘making out,’” Myka tells him. “Mostly because we aren’t teenagers, but also because we aren’t.” As if to prove her point, she kisses Helena’s cheek—but her lips linger for an extra second, soft on soft. Yet another prize.

“Ahem. No rules prohibiting osculation, chaste or otherwise,” Helena notes. “I am in fact aware of no rules at all. Whenever I imagine I discern some vague legal boundary, Claudia assures me that I am mistaken.”

Myka says, with completely inappropriate, but quite welcome, affection, “Like you’d know a legal boundary if you tripped over it.”

“Bet you could limbo under it, right, H.G.?” Claudia chirps.

“That seems more your preferred option.”

Ramon says, “We talking options, I pick that Islamic bar.”

Myka, smiling a degree less brightly, looks among the three of them. “I think your car’s having more fun than mine is.”

“That can hardly come as a surprise,” Helena says, and barely a second elapses before the easy-to-predict squawk of “Hey! I’m fun!” from Pete.

“Today you’re not,” Myka says. “Today you’re all weird and mopey.”

“That’s because we haven’t had a car chase, and I want one.”

Myka says, “Why don’t you go drive around really fast for a while—”

“That isn’t a chase!”

Myka continues, “And I’ll stay here with Helena and Claudia and... I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Ramon. So wait, if you’re Myka—”

“Yes?”

“You’re the lady in question. The one I’m not supposed to tell this thing to.” He turns to Helena. “Right?”

Helena nods, but then Myka asks “What thing?” in a tone that Helena belatedly realizes is the one she uses when she wishes to compel an answer—

—and indeed, Ramon begins, “This one time I saw—”

“No!” Helena exclaims. She moves to place her hands over Myka’s ears, but before she can reach Myka—and, fortunately, before Ramon can finish his utterance—four Farnsworths buzz. What Ramon says instead is “Those are some phones, man.”

As it happens, Steve has yet more artifact activity to report to all of them, this time at an entirely different location. Helena and Claudia move to reenter Ramon’s car, and Ramon moves quickly too, but Pete moves with more motivation than anyone. Helena and Claudia are in the small back seat, listening through the Farnsworth to Myka complaining that he’s started moving before she could get her legs all the way in the car and close the door, when he shouts, very clearly intended for Helena and Claudia’s consumption, “Did you hear me click my seatbelt? So long, suckers!”

“Ramon!” Claudia calls, “I never thought I’d say this, not in my whole life, but: follow that car!”

“Follow that car?” Ramon repeats. “But he’s speeding.”

Helena tells him, “We are law enforcement. It is completely legal.”

“Prove it.”

Helena shows him her Secret Service badge.

“It looks real,” Ramon says.

“Due to the fact that it is real.”

“Whatever. Will it fool the cops?”

“I do not need to fool them.”

“You kinda do,” Claudia says.

“You are not helping,” Helena informs her. “I thought you were interested in winning.”

“What is this game anyway, man?” Ramon asks.

“Uh...” Claudia scrambles, “scavenger hunt. Sorta. For the IRS. Looking for people who... evade taxes.”

Ramon, wise young man that he is, is clearly unpersuaded. “By getting abducted by aliens?”

Claudia says, “That makes a weird kind of sense—how do you file your 1040 from the alien mothership?—so I’ll go with yeah. Exactly.” To Helena, though, she says, “Wait, if you can carry a wallet with a badge, why can’t you carry your other junk?”

“Women’s garments have too few pockets,” Helena tells her. “Too few, and too small.”

“Carry a bag.”

“I don’t like to carry things.”

“I remember a time you were happy to carry that big-ass grappler around.”

“That was primarily to impress Myka.”

“Though I guess you did dump it on her as soon as you could... waitaminute, you admit it was to impress her?”

“Of course I do. Was there some question?”

Claudia’s jaw drops. “Bets have been placed. On that and lots of other you-n-Myka stuff. I thought you knew that.”

“I strive to forget many, many things. But here is something you might want to remember. It is a tip, regarding any future wagers you may place.”

“Okay...”

“If the wager concerns my motivation? Take the Myka-related side.”

“Now that you say it, that does seem like a no-brainer. Though nobody knew that for sure back in the grappler-day. You might’ve been just a bad guy.”

“You should have known it for certain. I may have been ‘a bad guy,’ but whatever it was you said that my eyes do now, they have done exactly that since first I saw her.” That was an admission she had not necessarily intended to make... but fortunately Claudia’s face has not reacted. She hurries on, “In any case, given my very helpful advice, I’ll expect to receive a reasonable percentage of your winnings.”

“You’re still pretty much a bad guy, aren’t you,” Claudia says, but with good humor.

“Would it help if I say that I would use my portion of the take to increase Myka’s happiness?”

“Maybe. How?”

“I might give her flowers. As it happens, Myka is strangely sentimental about flowers.”

“That does sound a little strange. For Myka. How’d you figure that out?”

“I gave her flowers.”

“Aw, and she liked them?”

“She threw them at me.”

Ramon laughs.

Claudia shakes her head. “I never know what kind of story it’s gonna be with you guys. So what happened? Did you talk her into liking them?”

“No. I talked her back into liking me, a campaign the flowers were originally intended to support. And once that campaign was to a certain extent successful, she directed her attention to the flowers littered around me. And she was appalled.”

“At them.”

“No, at herself. For what she had done to them.” Claudia is looking askance at her, so Helena concludes, “And that is the story of how I came to learn that Myka is strangely sentimental about flowers.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got my head around what’s strange in this story, and trust me, it’s not Myka. All I can say is, thank god you’re not my life partner.”

“And yet in a way I am, o eventual Caretaker. You are, as I believe is said, stuck with me.”

Ramon says, “Maybe you are West Coasty like that. Sounds like a pretty alternative lifestyle to me.”

“You have no—” Claudia begins to tell him, but she is thrown against the side of the car has he accelerates around a corner. “Idea,” she finishes.

Ramon is keeping excellent pace with Pete, who is flying, practically, through the streets. “What does ‘dirty Harry’ mean to you?” Claudia asks Helena.

“Dirty Harry.” She considers. “It might be the name of an unpalatable cocktail.”

“It’s a movie. And a guy in the movie. Lots of movies, like four or five.”

“How does that preclude the previous?”

“And yet another point to you.”

“Yet another unredeemable point. I am replete.”

“And then there’s Bullitt.”

Ramon says, “That’s my favorite.”

“A slightly more palatable cocktail?” Helena tries.

“Also a movie,” Claudia says. “And a guy in the movie. My point is, I bet Pete’s bringing them up too.”

“And you are for some reason required to bring up the same topics Pete does? Is this part of leveling the playing field?”

“I think they’re part of why Pete’s got San Francisco car chases on the brain. Probably why he wanted to get us into one.”

On Taylor Street, they become literally airborne. “This really is just like in Bullitt!” Claudia squeals as they depart from, then thud with solidity back to, earth. She is the only one in the car who seems pleased.

“I’m gonna need new shocks,” Ramon notes. “You guys paying for that?”

“I’ll talk to my boss,” Claudia tells him. “And he’ll say no, and then I’ll go over his head. But come on, you said it was your favorite!”

“Not to drive like somebody in it. Never said it was my car’s favorite.”

Helena asks Claudia, “Did your analysis of the superiority of your preferred transportation include budgeting for repairs?”

At that moment, Pete’s vehicle launches itself off the top of the next hill; they watch it land with great force. Then they watch as its muffler drops, then drags against the pavement, creating impressive sparks.

Claudia says, dryly, “Pete better factor it in too.”

When they arrive at the new site, Pete and Myka are of course already there and have exited their large vehicle. As Helena and Claudia are prying themselves from Ramon’s car, Pete points at them and exclaims, “Ha! I won!”

Claudia looks pointedly at his hands, which are empty. “Oh yeah? Then where’s the artifact?”

“Not that, loser. You didn’t catch me. In the chase.”

“That’s only because Bullitt isn’t Ramon’s car’s favorite movie,” Claudia tells him. Ramon, who is now standing behind her, crosses his arms and nods. They look like two small park rangers sternly confronting a baffled bear.

Helena looks at Myka, who sighs and shakes her head. Helena considers grabbing her and commandeering both Ramon’s movie-disliking car and his services. “To the hotel!” she imagines directing him. She additionally imagines, however, that Myka would insist that Ramon turn the car around so as to make sure Pete and Claudia are not getting themselves into unrefereed trouble.

So the faster they solve the artifactual problem... Helena casts her gaze around the area. What she might see that would be revealing, she has no idea. She does suppose that if someone had been abducted from this spot by aliens a short time ago, the aliens would be gone by now, having absconded with their abductee. Surreptitious person-snatching aliens were not what she herself had envisioned—extraplanetary populations had seemed far more likely to invade and plunder—but she now supposes there might be as many different types of aliens as, not quite literally, stars in the sky.

She supposes too that she should be pleased that she can in fact see, as she glances about. Although night has truly fallen, the vicinity is well lit. A streetlamp looms above her, sheathing her in the shine of its high-intensity bluish beam. If an alien abduction had occurred here, it would indeed have been extremely illuminated. She opens her mouth to tease Claudia again, but before she can utter a word, an idea strikes her.

Bright alien lights. Sunglasses, and the need for them.

She is curious. She looks up, directly up, into the streetlight.

Have her feet left the ground? A physical disorientation has overtaken her—I am not where I am; I am not where I was; I am not as I was, she thinks, and she might have said it aloud, but if her physical body is no identifiable where, and no identifiable thing, how could it, being nowhere and nothing, say anything at all?—and after a span of time that she cannot pin down, she is once again standing on a street. Under a streetlight... she sees the street, and she sees that it is lit, so nothing has happened to her eyes. She hears traffic behind her. She reaches to touch the light pole, and feels it solid under her fingers: she is no hologram. “Myka?” she says, and she is relieved to find that nothing has happened to her voice—but Myka does not answer. Nor Claudia, nor Pete. Pedestrians step around her, heedless of her bewilderment.

Helena looks for a street sign, and there she finds a plausible reason for Myka, Pete, and Claudia’s absence: this is a different road entirely. Presumably still San Francisco, but would she know if it were not? The cars look similar to those she has recently seen, so significant time travel has most likely not occurred.

She considers what to do. Of course she has neither telephone nor Farnsworth... this is her own fault.

Myka is going to be most displeased.

TBC

[soriseerakyra]

Nice to Meet You -4-

A/N: I’ve been in the middle of finals which is why I’ve been gone for so long :( sorry

Your accounting firm was in a large building situated nicely in downtown Gotham. Its location made for a beautiful view of the Gotham skyline as well as a dangerous journey home for anyone who didn’t watch their surroundings at night. Your bosses were pretty lenient as well. You supposed they fancied themselves the ‘modern’ sort. They opted for a set up without cubicles and instead built office floors with standing desks and the occasional bean bag chair, and kept the kitchen stocked with an abundance of free-trade artisan coffee.

 As you leaned carefully on of the thick glassed window-walls that allowed you to see the skyline, you flicked through your phone. Taking a sip of the cardboard cupped latte in your hand, you opened your Instagram app. Camille had been officially on maternity leave for two days, and while from the pictures she posted showed that she couldn’t have been happier, you were slightly miserable. It wouldn’t be right to say you were completely lonely, you’d gotten used to being alone and dealing with the reality of the alienated city life, but it was her that you missed. More accurately what you missed was quietly giggling to each other while the two of you people watched, mostly in a judgmental fashion. It was all in good fun for the most part through, most of the people that worked on your floor you liked. You may not have been the most social person, but you appreciated the fact that many here would have been willing to listen if you had told them your problem.

 You feel your lips pull down in a pout as another picture of Camille and her husband pops up on screen, this time his large hand placed lovingly on her rounded belly while she kissed his cheek and slyly peeked at the camera.

 “All right, this is sickening,” you say as you hastily put your phone to sleep and slip it into the pocket of your blue blazer.

 You turn your gaze out to the window again as you sip your coffee. Your eyes scan over the tall skyscrapers and then something out of the ordinary clicks in your mind. A familiarity works its way to the front of your brain while the word weaves itself deftly to the back.

 ‘smack’

 It was involuntary really, the contact that your free palm made with your forehead, but well deserved.

 “Oh, I’m an idiot.”

  ***

Majority of the time Bruce Wayne would say that he tried his best to run his company, well as well as he could, given his double life.  He remembered the names of his secretaries for the most part, but he supposed that was from doing thorough background checks on the people whom worked so close to his office rather than actually caring anything about them personally. The people whose names that he couldn’t quiet remember he would greet with a charming smile and enough attention throughout the year that many of his employees thought that working for Bruce Wayne “wasn’t so bad.” He even did his best to keep his eyes open during board meetings, he didn’t succeed most of the time but he always gave an effort.

However, there was one thing that he could care less about, paperwork. Hold up in lavish office, with a stack of files that needed his signature or documents that needed proper reviewing, he could not begin to give one iota of a fuck about what they said. In fact, for the past ten minutes he’d been hypnotized by the bouncing screensaver on his computer, something that he found vastly more appealing than the work he had to do.

 So, it was a relief when he felt the vibration of his cellphone on his thigh. He pulled the phone from his pocket and felt his brow furrow at the unknown number, however he answered it anyway.

 “Hello?”

 “So, you’re a pretty big deal, aren’t you?”

 His eyes widened at the voice before he let and easy smile slide its way across his lips. When he left the coffee shop the other night he hadn’t been expecting a call, and was happy that he hadn’t given his number out in vain.

 “Oh, what makes you say that?”

 “Your big stupid name plastered on the tallest skyscraper in the middle of downtown Gotham.”

 “Oh, so you noticed that, did you?” he said as he leaned back in his computer chair, paperwork forgotten. “If it makes it better, I didn’t design the building this way. My dad did.”

 “So, then your dad was the egomaniac.”

 “Precisely.”

 “Hmm, and you willingly admit this?”

 “I’m not one to hide things about my family.”

 “What about yourself?”

 “That’s a completely different story.”

 “I Imagine, maybe I can work out some of the things you’d like to hide about yourself over dinner.”

 He stood up and left his desk, slightly startled by the forwardness of the suggestion.

 “Why not?”

 “Good you can pick me up from work, I get off at 6.”

 “You aren’t going to tell me where to pick you up from?”

 “Use that brain of yours. I told you what I do and you know that I can see you or your building at least, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

 The smirk was so present in tone that the only way that it could have been more real would have been if he could see it in person.

 “Let’s see then.”

 ***

Bruce walked over to one of the large paned windows that opened to give him a more than lovely view of the city. While there were many accounting firms that dotted the city, there were few that garnered an unobstructed view of Wayne Enterprises. He caught the glimpse of a building that laid off to the right. A tall dark building decorated with gargoyles on its ledges. Ledges that he had often used to het a vantage point on the city. He also recognized it from a time when his father took him their when he was younger. Wayne Enterprises had its own accountants but Thomas Wayne had taught him the need to interact with the establishment, if only so you don’t piss them off.

 “You don’t seem like the type of person who’d work out at Wessler and Burns,” He said with a hint of playfulness in his voice. “To many suits.”

 “You’re right. I went in for an interview and I left with a restraining order. They call for new blood but when that blood has a cleavage the old farts can’t seem to keep their eyes to themselves. No offense, I know you’re not too far behind in the age range.”

 “I’m wondering if I should be offended. The youngest person with any value there is sixty.”

 “What are you? Fifty-Five?”

 “I’m definitely wondering if we should be going on this date.”

 “Don’t worry Bruce, I’m sure your old bones to can keep up with this young’un.”

 “The question is can you keep up with me?”

 “Who knows, I’ve been out of practice for a while.”

 “Don’t worry I haven’t.”

 “You old dog,” she said with chuckle in her voice, “Have you figured it out yet?”

 “I think so,” he stated as his eyes caught a glimpse at relatively new building that faced his own.

 “Good, because my break is over and flirting with an old man doesn’t pay the bills.”

 “I imagine it doesn’t”

 “Bye Bruce.”

 “Goodby-“

 The phone hung up.

 Carlisle and Preston accounting was a young firm for the city, having been there for about two years. It had sprung up on the west coast about ten years ago, and with an unusual swiftness for an accounting firm, opened multiple branches up and down the coast. This branch was the first on the east coast, and had likely brought Bruce Wayne’s date with it to the city. He’d found their unusual productivity strange, but there was nothing obvious or seemingly hidden that could be attributed to the success of the firm. Research had only turned up, that the CEOs Michael Carlisle and Jonathan Preston, regularly showed up at firms across the country and interacted as much as they could with their clients on a personal level. A relaxed working environment dedicated to the needs of the needs of workers in the 21st century made the seemingly boring profession more ‘sexy.’

 He leaned against his car, parked in front of the entrance of the building, hoping to catch a glimpse of the form that captured his interest.

 “So, you actually found it with your old man eyes.”

 The snarky familiar voice caught his attention as he saw the woman that he had been waiting for. He looked to his right and saw her approach, seemingly coming from a side exit rather than the front entrance.

 “Well, my building is the tallest in the city so even I can see something.”

 She smiled and then he noticed that her eyes flicked over his outfit.

 “I hope we aren’t going anywhere too fancy I am slightly underdressed.”

 He looked at her, blue blazer with a white blouse and jeans to match. If he took her to any of his usual establishments she would stick out like a sore thumb, they’d think he took her out as a charity case.

 “True,” he said thinking about their situation.

 “There’s not an Olive Garden in Gotham, is there?”

 “What is that?”

 She stared at him blankly, eyebrow raised lips quirked down at the ends.

 “You may be too rich for me.”

 “That has never been a problem for me.”

 “I imagine,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Listen, for now coffee will be our thing. And over said coffee we will eat small pastries and half-cooked microwaved breakfast sandwiches while I extol you the value of cheap carb loaded cardboard tasting Italian food and the like.”

 “Sounds thrilling.”

 “Trust me, when I’m done with you you’ll be addicted to breadsticks the same way most of middle America is.”

 “That doesn’t seem factu-”

 “Shhh, don’t question it,” She said as she made her way to the passenger side of his car. “Just let it happen.”

[starlit--dreams]

What’s Bred in the Bone: Part II

Mass Effect: Andromeda

Jaal x Sara Ryder

A 600 year nap and a 2.5 million light-year journey to find out the answer: are humans and angara genetically compatible?

Rated M for strong language, some sexuality and violence. Alien-human pregnancy fic.

Spoilers for Jaal's romance and loyalty mission, and end of game.

Part II of ??? -- Part I - Part III - Part IV - Part V

Sara rubbed her temples, feeling the makings of a headache coming on. Which was just perfect timing, really. But they were common in her pregnancy so far. Dr. Lexi didn’t think they were a problem, provided she took her vitamins, ate well, and drank plenty of water. And they didn’t really get worse.

Just something new to discover in a human-angaran pregnancy. She really was a Pathfinder in many aspects of her life, wasn’t she?

But today was not the day she needed a headache. Today was her wedding day.

As Jaal predicted, his family had indeed rallied around them when he informed them. Sahuna, his true mother, was beside herself with excitement. Sara was buried in daily emails from her. But they did insist that Sara and Jaal marry. Legal reasons, Sara was told. She loved her newfound family, and loved the angaran people, but their laws were definitely something that gave her a headache anyways. What it boiled down to was that the children would not be considered apart of their family, with the rights and protections it afforded them under angaran law, unless they were married before the birth took place. (“Even if the mother is in labor,” Sahuna told her humorously, “as long as the baby is still inside”)

Her life had changed drastically since finding out she was pregnant. Jaal had been right about his family, but she had been right about the Initiative. Tann and Addison were not pleased, and Sara doubted that they would leave well enough alone in this case. They had to populate, Addison had told her, or risk extinct despite the “best efforts of the Pathfinder.” She should be having human babies, as much as any other race should be having their own. When Sara brought up asari, or those who didn’t want or couldn’t have children, Addison didn’t have an answer for that.

Jaal caught her hand gently, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Another headache?” he asked.

“Yep,” Sara replied, trying to look chipper. But a headache and nerves on top of feeling swollen and fat were not easily waved away.

Tenderly, he rubbed her neck, working away the tension. “The ceremony will be short,” he reminded her.

“But the party will probably go on all night, I know,” she sighed.

“At least we can sneak away if we have to.”

“I don’t want to offend everyone. We got enough complaints when we said just household family, no extended family, plus the Tempest crew.”

“Beloved, they expect us to sneak away. So we can enjoy the start of married life,” he explained patiently, although there was a warm mirth in his voice.

Sara admittedly had to blush at that. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and planted a kiss at the top of her head.

“You look radiant today,” he remarked.

“You tell me that every day,” Sara said, shaking her head.

“You look radiant every day,” he agreed. “So I don’t see why I shouldn’t say it.” His hand drifted down to her already swollen belly. She hadn’t felt any movement yet, but Lexi said she wouldn’t for another few weeks. Even with twins.

Jaal kissed her neck tenderly. “Lexi did give me a little advice on how to help with your headaches,” he said idly, his hand starting to move further down. Sara was about to protest, stopping his hand with hers, when Jaal’s mother -- his true mother, Sahuna -- came by.

“The priestess is here, and the family is ready for you,” she said, the widest grin on her face. “I can’t believe it; my favorite child is getting married!” She turned to Sara and pulled the human into an embrace.

“Mother,” Jaal started with a sigh, “every child is your favorite.”

She reached up to touch her son’s cheek. “Today, it’s just you. And Sara, of course!”

The ceremony was short enough. Vows were made -- traditional angaran ones, and a few human ones the family insisted be said as well -- and a blessing was given. Sara’s favorite part of the blessing was the implication that two souls were destined to meet across lifetimes if their love was strong enough. She and Scott had been raised in a secular house, like Suvi, with scientists for parents, but there was a beauty and an openness Sara felt at the words nonetheless.

A darkly humorous realization was that she was more or less the only one in the room that was unarmed and unarmored, other than the Tempest’s noncombatants and the various angaran children. It was at both Jaal’s and Cora’s insistence, and the family agreed. Havarl was safer now, but it wasn’t Aya still.

The ceremony itself was concluded not with a kiss, as with many human cultures, but with a ceremonial cup of very bitter tea shared between them.

But Jaal did pull her into a kiss afterwards. “Liam said I should,” he murmured to her. “Human custom, he said, and popular in all the vids.”

Sara couldn’t help but giggle and blush, a very happy smile plastered on her face.

A loud cheer had gone up around them, and the party started.

“So my big sister is married now,” later came her twin’s voice at her side. Sara turned to Scott, facing her own smile radiating back at her. At Dad’s smile. He looked so much like him, it made Sara’s heart ache for a moment.

“Yeah. I’m a little surprised everything’s happened so quickly. I still won’t even have them for a long time.”

Scott pulled her into a hug. “I think the angarans are starting to rub off on me, too,” he chuckled, and Sara could hear the slight crack of emotion in his voice. “I hope you’re happy, sis. I know he’ll take good care of you. I’d hate to see Sahuna’s wrath of he doesn’t.”

“What, Sahuna’s? Not Drack’s, or Vetra’s, or Cora’s, or hell, Suvi’s?” Sara taunted with a laugh.

“Nope. Always fear the mother,” he grinned back.

The party was fairly informal, with plenty of food -- and Vetra made sure there was a variety of Milky Way as well as Andromedan, with dextro for her -- and drinks, and made cosy with cushions and low chairs for seats.

At fourteen weeks with twins, Sara’s belly was already the size of a small watermelon. Getting up and down from the low seating was going to be difficult. But, oh, she wanted off her feet so badly. Just as she was eyeing them and figuring that she could pester Jaal to help her up when she needed to pee there was a small commotion at the entrance to the home.

Sahuna was at her side in an instant.

“My daughter,” she said proudly, a warm smile at her lips. “Pathfinder Ryder, the Moshae has come and honored us with a visit. Or specifically, you and your husband.”

“Oh,” Sara blinked. That was… unexpected. Sahuna ushered her into a small side room of the house, where Jaal and the Moshae were already waiting and seemed to be in a serious conversation.

“Hello again, Moshae Sjefa,” Sara announced before coming too close. She didn’t want to intrude on what looked like a private conversation. The Moshae quickly fell silent, turning her large eyes on Sara.

“Pathfinder Ryder. Or is it Pathfinder Ama Darav now?” she greeted back, head slightly canted, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“Ryder,” Sara clarified. “At least, right now. But I’ll answer to both.”

“You’ll have to be both, now,” she pointed out. “And yes, Jaal, both; so before you grumble about her keeping her last name, consider the tangled web you both find yourselves in. Do they not have reproductive blockers in your home galaxy?”

Sara grit her teeth. She liked the Moshae, usually, but the woman could be prickly when she had a strong opinion.

“Of course. They wore off before I could renew them, and I didn’t think I’d actually conceive anything.”

“No, I suppose not. There haven’t been many studies. Unfortunately, it fell to you to find out from experience rather than a scientific study. Regardless, I am here to tell you that rumors are swirling, and many of our people aren’t happy with this.”

“I know,” Sara said soberly. “I didn’t think it would be an easy issue.”

“It was prudent for you to marry so quickly,” the Moshae continued. “Because if the governors and arbiter and Efvra stopped arguing about what they’ll do about it and actually did something, you might not have been able to. You are not a citizen under our law, Pathfinder, but by marrying before they forbid it, they will likely have no choice to recognize the marriage and your children.

“But it brings up an important subject. You have joined an angaran family. Aside from being a mother, you will have obligations to fulfil to them and to the angaran people.”

“I’ve worked my ass off to foster peace between our people,” Sara said, trying to keep her temper in check. “If I haven’t proven myself by now -- “

“This isn’t about you proving you can be a friend to our people,” the Moshae cut her off, “or even fostering good relations. This is about becoming a part of us, and being our Pathfinder as well. This is about conflict of interest.”

Sara shut her mouth at that. “I see what you mean,” she answered after a moment.

“Moreover,” the Moshae began again, a little more gently, and stood to reach out for Sara’s belly. “This is about them as much as you. They will be probably the most unique beings in the galaxy. Maybe for a short time, maybe forever. They will wonder why. They will search for their place. You must make that place for them, between cultures, in a galaxy that will shun them. Can you do it? Can you be both Ryder and Ama Darav?”

“Pathfinder,” Sara murmured.

“Yes.” It was a simple confirmation of the direction of her thoughts.

This ran deeper than maybe she initially realized. Or maybe she did realize it, only for the light at the end of the tunnel to appear before her.

What was it that Drack had told her? Parents were the starting line.

She had six months to get them a good starting line. Six months to get the angaran government and the Initiative to accept that this happened. Dread was an icy ball in the pit of her stomach.

“I came to give you advice, and now I have,” the Moshae said, giving Sara’s belly a final rub. “Regardless, Pathfinder… you have my support in this. May your children be born healthy.”

Sara was left chewing her lip in anxiousness.

The only hint of Jaal’s approach was the rumbling she could hear in his chest just before he wrapped his arms around her. “She didn’t have to upset my wife on our wedding night,” he muttered.

“But it needed to be heard,” she told him. “She wasn’t wrong to come. Anyways… hey, let’s get back to the party a little longer.”

“Just for a bit,” he allowed. “I still have to help you get rid of that headache.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUARAG PRT 4 UPDATE

"Talking" with Allura, Lance found himself mentally spilling every dark secret he'd buried since she'd left. Everything from the moment he'd said goodbye. All the things he'd never said to her, all the things he should have said. He poured his heart out to the cross that was all he had of her. Her photos were too painful. They felt empty of her energy. He kept the ones of them together, but they stayed here on Earth while he ran as far as he could. He would have kept pouring his heart out if Keith hadn't placed his hand on his shoulder, letting him know that he was there for him, and that he'd talked so long that the hole for the coffin was mostly dug.

  Wiping his eyes and dusting himself off, he took the shovel from Keith, climbing down into the hole to finish off. He'd have to ask his father to make another cross, so Kre'el could rest and never be forgotten. Her coffin was plain white, no fancy carvings or intricate designs on top. Just a cold box to contain a woman who'd suffered through so much. Life wasn't fair. He'd known that for almost as long as he'd known his own name. It was hard. Full of fighting and pain, but today he could breathe easier knowing that if he wanted, he could walk right back down the hill and into his mother's arms, and that she wouldn't question it. She still loved him. She still wanted him in her life, and she accepted that he wasn't alright, or as alright as he made seem. He knew she had to hurt from his blunt words, but what else could he do? His past was still clinging to the bottom of his shoes, and his future was right in front of him. Or beside him. In the current moment his future was above him and slightly to the left, letting him be slightly perdantic over making sure the bottom was flat, so her coffin wouldn't warp and buckle before it's time. Patting the back of the shovel against the dirt, it was finally time

"Babe?"

"It's time"

  Handing up the shovel to Keith, they hadn't thought things through properly. The hole was a little over 5 feet. There was nothing around that would disturb the grave, yet there was still the matter of lowering the casket down... which was an experience. Lance didn't want to step on the coffin, but with the lack of space and the drop, they were lucky they even managed to lower it down, having to trade positions as Keith was physically stronger than him. It still resulted in him sliding down the back of the hole as they tried to be careful. Both of them climbing out the grave feeling slightly wrong about how it'd gone down. It hadn't been a smooth and beautiful service. They were the only ones there to say the first of the goodbyes. What he wouldn't have given to have found her daughter to lay with her. It seemed unbearably cruel that they were both separated. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, he took the shovel up again, not allowing himself the luxury to rest. The sooner her grave was left alone, the sooner her eternal rest would start.

  Covering the coffin, it seemed to take no time before the dirt was mounded up beside Allura's cross. The tears started, but the ran down his face, mixed with sweat from the bright sun overhead. Dirt clung to him from head to toe, Keith much the same way as he took the shovel from him, passing him the bouquet of sunflowers and daisies. Staring at the pretty yellow flowers in the bunch, they seemed ridiculously yellow and clean

"I don't know what to say"

"I don't know either. Maybe you don't need to know what to say right now. Your intentions are good. You put her to rest. She's here, surrounded by more freedom then she never had in her life. More love than she's had in years. She hurt you and forgave her. That's all that matters for now"

"Yeah... I pray she's finally resting in peace, with her daughter again..."

"I know, babe..."

"I thought I'd have words for this"

"You can think about it, and we'll come back up here with the others. When the time is right. You're not forgetting her by taking time to think"

Lance let out a snort, taking himself by surprise. He had no idea why he snorted

"You're right... let's head down now. We both need showers..."

"Ok. I love you, you know"

"I love you too. Do you think she's ok with me walking away?"

"I think she would be. I think she wanted someone to stop her and wanted someone to save you. I think she'd be happy you have someone who loves you and is there for you"

"I wish there'd been some other way... any other way. I forgive her, but I can't forgive everything. I can't forgive them for taking my virginity. I can't forgive them for all the disgust I still feel... but I want to believe when we were friends, that was real. That she's sorry for that. I want to go back now"

  With the heat, the exertion, the heaviness of the day, he wanted to unwind again. Take a break before he had to think again. Let Keith comfort him, though he'd done so much of that already. Maybe he could convince Keith to take a shower with him? They both needed a shower and he wanted to show Keith some appreciation for everything he'd done. The least he could do wash his hair for him. The Telula's over head shower head was the only real place they could share a shower without having to swap in and out. Movies were definitely wrong when it came to the romance of shower sharing

"Babe? You still with me?"

He hadn't noticed his hand was gripping his chest. He didn't feel like he was having an attack. He could think clearly for one thing

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. What do you say we take a shower together. I want to hold you"

Keith gave him a smile, that went straight to his heart

"That sounds nice"

      *

Lance was dead on his feet by the end of their shopping trip. Trying to keep his team out of trouble, every time he turned his back, Zak was off and into something new. If it wasn't Zak it was random strangers asking for his or Keith's autographs. Then it was everyone he'd known growing up, or at least it seemed like he was introducing his team to every single person he'd ever met in his time before the Galaxy Garrison. Running into so many familiar faces should have reminded him of all the good times he'd had in his youth, but seeing them in contrast with the thousands of refugees that still called Earth home only served to make him feel like the alien in his own home town.

 With his arms feeling like they were going to drop off, he dumped his bags of shopping in Keith's old room, before staggering over to their room where his husband was dealing with his own smaller load of shopping. Coming up behind Keith, Lance wrapped his arm around the half-Galra's waist, nuzzling into the nape of Keith's neck as he inhaled as much of Keith's scent as he could. He loved Keith holding him, but he loved holding his husband just as much. The best time was they'd fall asleep together and he'd wake finding himself spooned around Keith, like his smaller frame could protect the love of his life from everything

"Hello, you"

"Mmm, hello"

  Nuzzling harder, Lance was in heaven. He was sure of it. Keith had kept him calm as they'd shopped. Even when Lance had disappeared to pick up a few more small gifts for his husband, the thought that Keith was waiting for him kept him grounded enough not to panic despite all the strangers surrounding him. Letting out a content sigh, he pressed a kiss to fair skin against his lips

"Everything ok?"

"Mmm. Yeah. Better now we're back here and all the children are accounted for"

Laughing lightly, Keith placed his hands on his

"I seriously thought we lost Ezor and Zethrid. That's the last time I trust Acxa to keep them in line. And are you sure your dad will be happy with a new set of spanners?"

"Babe, we're on a working farm. Stuff goes missing all the time, so yes. And personally I was more concerned that Ezor was going to make crash the ute. I wouldn't be surprised if we'd all died on the way home"

 The novelty of a car was too much for both their teams. Ezor kept trying to "help" by making repeated grabs for the gear stick, while Zethrid wanted to know why it didn't go faster. Sure, their work ute was old. She was rusty and didn't like going into gear half the time, but that was usually half the fun

"She's never riding in the front again"

"Nope. Anyway, how about you? How do you feel? I know you don't love crowds"

"I'm alright. Though, I probably would have walked away the first time someone asked for my autograph"

"I can see that. Sooo many people... I want to tackle you down into our bed and hold you all night, but now we have to go to dinner"

"I wouldn't mind a good tackling"

Rolling his eyes, Lance let Keith go

"No tackling for you. I'm going to grab a jumper to replace this jacket. Is there anything you want from the closet?"

"I'm good. I'm dressed alright, aren't I?"

 Black skinny leg jeans with a black shirt... Keith was definitely more than alright

"Maybe just a jacket. Here, put mine on, it's prewarmed and everything"

"I need a jacket?"

"You don't need a jacket, but sometimes it gets really cold here at night. Mami couldn't care less what you wear, as long your hands are washed and you eat way too much"

"We're having dinner in the tent, aren't we?"

"We don't fit in the house. Not your team, my team, and the family. It's a quiet dinner tonight, mami messaged me while we were out"

"Oh... I didn't know she did"

"I had to ask her something. It's fine. Now, we need to get a move on. Rachel will eat your dinner if you're late. She'll also break your heart by finishing the last of your birthday cake you were saving for breakfast the following morning, and putting glue in your favourite face cream"

"I don't know who I'm more scared of, your dad or your sisters"

"My sisters. Definitely my sisters. Poor old Jorge is scared of them too"

Keith let out a confused hum of sorts

"Dad is Jorge. Mum is Miriam. Or papi and mami. I've told your their names before"

"I'm sorry... It's just, you always call them "mami" and "papi"... and your mum says to call her "mami""

"Yep. Dad will pretty much answer to everything. It comes from spending so much time around mum. I don't know if Luis and Lisa will be there... but tomorrow night we'll be heading into town for Nadia and Sylvio's school play. Then on Christmas Eve we have midnight mass. We don't have to go to morning mass on Christmas Day, so we can spend that together with our teams. Mami and papi, and the others are going. In the afternoon we'll be handing presents out. Then there's dinner, and fireworks with the kids. Mum's like lowkey catholic when compared to rest of the family. Especially after the existence of aliens were proven. She still believes in god though... Oh, we need to be up earlier tomorrow for the animals. It goes so much faster with more hands, but the cows were pretty uncomfortable waiting to be milked"

 Keith gave a small laugh as he turned in his hold

"Babe, you already told me the schedule"

"I told you we were doing Christmas and New Years here. I didn't tell you absolutely everything. Like usually we have big family dinners from the 18th through to the 1st. I think mami changed all the plans because of what I said. That and I'm not up in the house where she can keep a close eye on me"

"Keeping an eye on you is my job"

"I know. Here, take the jacket already. We need to head out"

    Dinner was loud, and long. Rachel kept shooting him looks before biting her lip and looking away. Lance knew he needed to talk to her, but it was hard when she was at the opposite end of the table. In the end, most the conversation came from Keith's team. Acxa had been forced to sit next to his mother, so she could finally get the woman talking to her. Their siblings had been pretty shocked that Veronica was dating Acxa, but that soon worn off. It was nice to watch as Acxa came out of her shell, even managing smiling and laughing at whatever his mother was saying to her. Down their end of the table, Lance had his hand on Keith's knee as he ate, enjoying the casual contact while Daehra and Lucteal discussed everything new they'd seen for the day. Zak and Tobias had bailed on dinner. Lance was sure he'd seen something suspiciously video game console like in Zak's hold. With a little bit of luck, the game console would keep both aliens out of trouble.

  As the meal came to an end, Lance volunteered himself and Keith for dish duty. Not publicly admitting their competition as they both carried stacks of plates up to the house. The rules were simple. Everything had to arrive in one piece, and whoever was fastest won. The game was ruined when they hit the old wire door. With their hands full, they couldn't hit he magnetic lock, and were left to stand there until his mother finally brought up the rear with the left overs. Sighing heavily at the pair of them, she let them, Lance darting in before Keith could and claiming victory. It was a small win, but a win all the same. Piling into the house, their team members were ushered through to living room. Marco insisted they needed a crash course in Earth Christmas movies. His excuse for why he couldn't help with the dishes, when their mother tried to un-volunteer them. Waiting until his mother filled the kettle, Lance then went about stacking plates in the sink, automatically pulling the cupboard door next to him open so Keith could scrape the plates into the pig bucket.

  For Lance the comfortable silence of the kitchen as everyone fell into place wasn't all that comfortable. The moment the kettle boiled and the teapot filled to brew, his mother gathered up four cups from the rack

"Mijo, leave the dishes for a moment. Your father and I want to talk"

Like he hadn't seen this coming from a quiznakking mile away

"It's alright, mami. We can talk while I wash the dishes. I told Keith about what I said today, so anything you want to say or ask, it's ok"

  Tugging his gloves off, Lance placed them up on the window ledge, then went about rolling his sleeves up. The gloves were waterproof, but he didn't really want them soaking in the remnants of dinner. Grabbing the dishwashing liquid off the sink, he gave a generous squirt before making sure the plug was in place and starting to fill the sink

"Your father and I have some concerns"

"I thought you might do. You can ask... if I can't... answer it just yet, I'll tell you"

"Alright. We want to know what you meant by brain damage. Was it because of the bleed during surgery? Couldn't the pod heal it? Is it permanent?"

Straight for the big one first...

"There's some scarring. I don't remember how it happened, but it couldn't be healed by the pod because it'd already scarred. If they went in to try and fix it, they'd probably end up risking making it worse"

"Mijo..."

 His mother's quivering voice is exactly why kept all of this to himself. Lance's hands gripped the plate in his grasp harder. Sensing his discomfort, Keith stepping while Lance forced himself to loosen his hold

"The damage isn't major. Lance is still Lance. It's mostly time that he gets anxious over, and sometimes he'll forget small things. The scar is located in the temporal lobe, according to his scans. It affects his flight or fight responses, which doesn't help with the PTS or depression, but we've got plans in place to help with things like flashback and panic attacks. We've been working on identifying his triggers and how to calm down a panic attack when he feels one setting in, which isn't always. It hasn't made him any less himself"

  "Surely you can understand why we'd worry"

Breathing out through his nose, Lance finally started scrubbing the dishes, Keith now waiting with a tea towel for him to catch up

"I know, mami. It's hard for me to tell you. I know I acted wrong and didn't... do things how I probably should have after Allura died"

"Mijo, you were hurting. More than we knew... Keith, its very brave of you to face these things with Lance, but how are you? I know how hard it can be to care for someone in a medical sense when you love them"

He was right there. If they wanted him to leave, the could just tell him... No. He was being stupid. His anxieties were being stupid. Of course his parents wanted to know if Keith was handling things

"I'm alright. I mean. It's not always easy. We've always been good at riling each other up, and Lance is still healing, but he's trying so hard. It was harder in the beginning. I... had feelings for him before he started dating Allura, and when we ran into each other again, I didn't understand anything that was happening, or going through his head. I wasn't even sure Lance was Lance with how drastically he'd changed"

"I worry for you both. Your both so young. Please make sure that you're taking time for yourself"

"I have been, but honestly I'm happier with him than alone. I didn't have much of a family life growing up. When we met, I was warped and jaded from all the stuff I'd seen in the foster system, so when Lance started acting like everyone's brother, I didn't handle it very well. It took phoebs to realise that who he was, and that he wasn't pushing himself to pretend to care. I didn't have much faith left in humanity, but then before I knew it, I took control of Voltron and Lance was my right hand man. Voltron never would have succeeded without him"

  A few ticks passed before his mother's next question came

"You said people hurt you for the red lion. What happened to them? Did they get everyone who hurt you?"

"Yeah. They're taken care of. Kre'el made sure of that. They worked for her, without knowing they did. When they hurt me without her permission... stuff happened. Basically, they won't be coming back"

"And the man you worked for?"

"Dead. He's dead. I've handed everything I had over to Shiro and Keith's mum. I need to stop being stuck in the past. I want to give this thing between Keith and I a real shot... and I don't ever want to scare you guys again"

"You said you bought an outpost? For you and Keith? You're not staying on?"

  His mother wasn't trying to be accusing, but yet again his anxieties went there

"I'm not finished with my job. I like the work I'm doing. Helping people that Voltron wasn't able to help. Helping to keep space safe and calm. It's an old rebel base that they couldn't use anymore so moved on from. The money I gave them for it is only going to end up going back through the system and to the people who need it. It's not too far from Erathus, and a little over a movement to Daibazaal. Plus, the police out there totally owe me for doing the prison transfer out there so it shouldn't be too bad"

"We know you love your job, but if dangerous people..."

"Mami, I could live on Earth and it'll be just as dangerous. I have a really good team. Daehra is like the most amazing medic you could ask for. Lucteal backs me where I lack in hand to hand combat. There isn't anything in existence that Zak can't hack his way into. Tobias is... he's there. Plus, I have support from Shiro and Coran. It's not like it was before. I'm slowly trying to let everyone back in again. Like you and papi. And I want to talk to Rachel and V. I think Luis and Marco are just happy I haven't drunk myself senseless yet..."

"They worry for you"

"I know, mami. But there's worrying, and there's smothering. Veronica already tried to smother me. I really wish she'd taken time off sooner. She neeeds it. She's so cranky up there, she's even got poor Shiro scared"

"She's always been head strong. I guess there's nothing we can say to convince you to stay on Earth?"

  Lance let gave a mental sigh. How we're parents able to lay the guilt on without changing their tone? His stomach was starting to roll with the festering feeling forming inside him

"No. Mami, I will always love Earth. It was my home and the place I longed to come back to every single day I was in space, but it... other than this house and all of you, it doesn't feel right for me anymore. I thought we'd come home to Earth. I thought we'd stop the Galra before they even spread out this far... but not it's like I don't belong out there, with everyone else here. The streets have changed. There's so many strangers and I don't know what's even going on in Earth politics anymore. I love you guys and the farm. I couldn't imagine not having that in my life, but until I'm better, I need to keep doing what I'm doing. Plus, my therapist is on Erathus. It's easy for me to get there from where the outpost is"

"You were always like this is a child, running off whenever I wanted you stay. I don't want to lose you, my baby"

"You're not losing me. I need this right now, and I need... Keith says I need to do what I need to do for me. I'd rather lose a finger and find happiness, than having kept the finger and lost all of this"

"I still can't believe what they did to your hand, and those nasty blaster burns"

"They've healed. I'm physically fine. Just a bit bruised around the mental edges. I'm in a better place... no, that makes it sound too much like I've died. I'm doing better than I was"

"Don't think I don't remember you said you died! Why didn't you tell us?!"

  The plate Lance was scrubbing slipped from his hand as he flinched. He could feel the tightness in his chest starting to build. The voice of anxiety whispering how he would never have disappointed his parents if he'd just stayed dead. Trying to ignore it, he pulled the plate back out again. He just had to be normal for a little longer. A little longer, then he could go back to the Telula and snuggled up with Keith in his arms

"Because it was only for a few moments. Allura brought me right back. Plus... there were more important things going on"

"There's nothing more important than your life"

"There is! There's you. There's all of you! Papi, Luis, Marco, Veronica, Rachel... I couldn't come back from something happening to any of you! If my life could stop you all from being hurt, I'd give it every single day of the damn week!"

Placing his hand on his shoulder, Lance shrugged off Keith's touch. His skin prickling under the normally comforting hand. Not taking offence, Keith plucked the plate from Lance's hands

"I'm sorry. I know you have more questions, but I think that's enough for tonight. It's been a really long day for all of us. Let's get these dishes done and head to bed, babe?"

"Yeah.. yeah, your right. It's been a stupidly long day... Why don't you two go watch movies with everyone. Keith and I can finish up here, it's no drama"

"Mijo..."

"I'm ok, mami. I just need to... do this right now. I love you. And I love you, papi"

"We love you too, mijo. And you too Keith. Thank you for all you do for our Lance"

"You're welcome, though he's the one doing all the hard work"

Jorge cleared his throat

"Keith, Lance tells me your pretty handy. Would you mind helping an old man with his tractor? No rush or anything..."

"It's no trouble at all..."

Keith trailed off, unsure what to call his father

"Jorge is fine son, or papi if you feel like it. Make sure you don't stay up to late"

"We won't, Jorge. Thanks for a wonderful dinner, mami"

  Waiting until his parents had left Keith out the tea towel down, before nudging him with his elbow. A slight blush on his husband's cheeks

"Is it really ok to call him Jorge?"

"He said so. Thanks for being here... It gets so hard to tell them anything. Mami worries and papi worries, then I worry about them..."

"Your parents are really nice"

There was a tinge of sadness in Keith's voice that had Lance abandoning the dishes, his anxieties didn't matter as he hastily wiped his hands on his jeans before reaching up to cup Keith's cheeks. Gently kissing his husband, the indulged himself as one soft kiss turned to three, a smile on Keith's lips as he broke away to stare into his husband's eyes. Reaching up with his left hand, he brushed a few stray hairs back from Keith's forehead

"You're so beautiful, babe. I love you. I hope you know how happy you make me"

Blinking at him, Keith leaned into kiss him, much harder and more passionately than the soft and tender kisses he'd bestowed upon his husband's soft lips. Moaning into the kiss, Lance felt dizzy from the attention, his stupid knees having the ordasity to go weak.

  Forcing himself to break the kiss, they both smiled at each other like the lovestruck idiots they were

"Wow..."

"Yeah... sorry if it was too much"

"No. No... that was... let's get these dishes done. I feel like you just kissed all the stress out of me in one go"

"Oh, is that an invitation to do it again?"

"Mmm, as tempting as it is, let's save that for bed. If you keep kissing me, I'm going to end up on the floor in a goopy loved up puddle, and these dishes will never be done"

"I like the sound of that"

"I know you do, and that's the problem. But if you're a good boy, I promise you a special treat"

Covering his mouth and nose, Keith pulled away as he laugh-snorted. Faking offence, Lance huffed as he turned back to the dishes

"So rude"

"I'll be good. I just can't keep up with you sometimes. I could smell how agitated you'd become, but the next tick were kissing and laughing"

"And who's fault is that? Honestly. You're too beautiful for your own good"

"Nah, we both know you're the beautiful one. I'm the hot one"

  Turning to gape at his husband, Keith shot him finger guns. The half-Galra had no idea what he started, but Lance was now going to prove how hot he could be.

     *

With both their teams falling asleep while watching some snowy Christmas movie, Lance pulled Keith back to the privacy of the Telula. Washing all the dishes had been draining, but a second wave of unexpected energy had crashed through him thanks to Keith and him getting lost in the kitchen. What was the point of shutting the cutlery draw when there was more cutlery to go away? And how managed to forget twice where it was... Lance would never know.

 Leading his husband through to their room, he pushed Keith down onto their bed, before climbing up and straddling his lap

"Babe?"

"Shhh... I've got this"

He didn't know if he had this. He simply wanted to feel Keith beneath his fingers. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Keith's as he started taking his gloves off, when his husband started kissing back, he broke the kiss to start kissing down his chin and across his throat

"Shit... babe..."

Getting his pesky gloves off, they went flying. His hands moving to Keith's hips as wriggled down his husband's legs, mouthing harder at his neck as he went

"I love you... I love you so fucking much"

  Sucking a deep possessive hicky on Keith's neck, Lance pulled back to survey his work, a smirk on his lips. Keith was biting his bottom lip as he stared up at him. God. The man was the epitome of sex appeal. Shifting his weight, he grabbed hold of the bottom of his jumper, tugging both it and his shirt free in one smooth move. He was actually momentarily surprised at how well he managed to execute the move without klutzing it up

"Lance?"

"Take your shirt off. I want to see you"

Nodding, Keith sat up so he could. Accidentally hitting Lance in the chin in his rush to obey. Laughing at his alarmed looking husband, Lance moved his hands up to "help" free Keith of his shirt and jacket, before throwing them to join his gloves, his lips smashing into Keith's as he pushed him back down, and slid back up so he was straddling the forming tent in Keith's jeans. Letting out a growl, Keith rolled his hips as he broke the kiss, hands going to Lance's arse

"You're so fucking sexy"

  Groaning as Keith's gripped him hard, he was struck in the face the scent of Keith's desire. He didn't want to just have sex. He didn't want to think about his pleasure, he wanted to make Keith feel loved. He knew a happy family home came with lingering pain for the man he loved, so he wanted to show Keith just how damn loved he was

"Hey, tonight it's about you babe. Let me make you feel good?"

"I want to touch you"

"Mmm, but let me touch you first..."

Grinding down against Keith, Keith let out a sinful moan

"See, baby. Let me take care of you"

  They had rules. Sleeping with underwear on was non-negotiable. Preferably with pyjama bottoms but sometimes they were too tired to go to the effort. Above or "through" contact was alright, provided Lance gave clear permission, and Keith would stop if it all got too much or smelt something was wrong. Awkward morning boners were politely excused, and wet dreams too. If Lance grew too wet and soaked through his underwear, Keith would wake him so he could clean up... which was still a little mortifying, even when his husband meant well. Waiting for Keith to nod, Lance began peppering open mouth kisses to the half-Galra's throat, letting out small moans at the feeling of Keith's skin so openly exposed to him. There was something about being so intimate and completely control that made him feel like he was unstoppable. Keith was allowed to use force on him in the case that he flipped out. But his husband wouldn't. He'd only agreed to satisfy him and they both knew it. Making his way down Keith's chest, he pressed kisses to the scars there, tracing his hands up his lovers abs. Keith might call him beautiful, but he was nothing when compared the man between his legs. Reaching his left pec, Lance traced the muscles outline with his tongue, Keith arching beneath him as he paused to blow across the trail, then moved to tease the small bud of his left nipple into a stiff peak with tongue. Biting lightly, he hummed happily when Keith growled at him, hands gripping his arse even harder.

  Pressing a kiss to the centre of Keith's chest, his right nipple was already a hard bud, taking it into his mouth, he sucked firmly, rolling his hips as he did. Keith wasn't sure if he liked his nipples being touched, where as Lance's were constantly sensitive under his lover's ministrations. A playful flick never failed to send a jolt through his groin. Their time on Daibazaal hadn't been all meetings and gloom. Some light mutual touching had morphed into something a little more. Rules formed and broken, but they'd never crossed the line back into sex or beyond a mutual handjob. He'd been too worried about Earth to be in the right frame of mind. Whining at him, Lance pulled off Keith's reddened nipple to stare down at his husband before hungrily claiming his lips again.

  Moving his hands up Lance's back, Keith rolled them so Lance's long legs were wrapped around his waist as broke the kiss in favour of furiously nuzzling into Lance's neck, dropping soft kisses to the flesh as he dragged his teeth across the curve and down to his collar bone

"Babe... you're so fucking beautiful"

Biting down on his collar bone, Lance let out a surprised gasp that was suspiciously moan like. He could feel a sudden rush of wetness between his legs as Keith rutted up against him

"So beautiful... so beautiful babe..."

Moving up to claim his lips again, Lance felt like he was melting. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, but damn if he didn't feel like the most loved and wanted man in the world. He could... He was learning how to let go. Keith never judged him. Keith would never judge him when they were like this... He was still opening up and allowing himself to be open beneath Keith, but his husband truly loved him for him, no matter what he'd been through. It was intoxicating to know that it wasn't his messed up body, but he himself that his husband wanted. Breaking the kiss, Keith stared down at him

"Babe?"

"I'm ok... I'm ok... God, I love you. You... make me so happy"

Smiling, Keith leaned into kiss him softly, ending the kiss sweetly to rest his forehead against Lance's

"Not as happy as you make me... Can I eat you out?"

Lance let out a breathy laugh

"Babe, the whole point of tonight was I wanted to show you how much I love you. I want to focus on you tonight"

"Nothing making me happier than you... and I want to do this. I want to taste you on my tongue"

  How was he supposed to say no to that? Especially when his body was so damn eager for it... he just... he was saving sex for a little further on... maybe a few days if everything went right. He wanted it to be really special and perfect for them both... and had it all mentally planned

"No sex. I mean... I..."

"It's alright. I want to touch you. If you don't feel comfortable, I promise to stop"

"Ok... go slow?"

"Always"

    Stripped beneath Keith, his husband insisted on echoing his earlier movements. Teasing his nipples until Lance was wet enough that the sheet beneath his arse was thoroughly soaked. Pulling him down the bed, the wetness smeared up his back as his legs were pushed open, Keith's fingernails scraping as he gripped his legs. Blushing, Lance grabbed his pillow, covering his face

"Babe? Are you ok?"

"Mhmm"

Squeaking, Lance forced himself to peak over the pillow

"Then why are you hiding?"

"Because I'm like... completely exposed here"

They might both be naked, but Keith wasn't the one with his arse and junk on display

"I know. It's a great view"

Groaning, Lance pulled the pillow back up

"Babe, if you're not comfortable"

"It's... exposing"

"Then you're going to love what comes next"

  Throwing his pillow at Keith, Keith dodged with ease before burying his between Lance's legs, the Cuban letting out a choked cry of pleasure as Keith's tongue lapped at his leaking opening, the inside of his thighs trembling

"Quiznak... oh... fuck..."

Keith had the nerve to snort lightly, before slipping the tip of his tongue in, Lance throwing his hands out to fist the sheets as his husband moaned, hips rocking in desperate need for more than just the tip of his tongue. Fuck... fuck... there was no way he could last, and he'd only just started... oh quiznak...

"Keith... fuck..."

  Panting and shaking, Lance lost himself chasing the pleasure of Keith's mouth and fingers. With his hand wrapped around his dick, his husband alternated between eating him out and blowing his brains out. The soft laps along his leaking slit contrasted against the hard way Keith all but shoved his face against arse, eating him like there was no tomorrow while Lance fucked himself on his husband's tongue. His whole body was shaking, so close to orgasm that it was cruel. With his chest heaving, he licked at his dry lips. He wanted to come...

 "You can come, baby. You come come... you don't need to beg"

 Lance didn't know he'd been begging... Keith's hold on his dick was the only thing keeping him from coming. Pulling off his arse, Keith sank his mouth down Lance's shaft, still holding him tight as he worked the tip... The stupid purple eyed bastard had said he could come... so why wasn't he letting him... he wanted to come... he was hard... properly hard... tears prickling in his eyes, hands sore from holding the sheets so tightly. Sliding off with a lewd pop, Lance whimpered at Keith's breath against the tip of his dick

"Come down my throat... want to taste it"

Sinking back down, Keith released his hold, jerking him as Lance swore the whole world imploded with pleasure, hips stuttering as Keith drank him dry. Holy fucking quiznak... Keith was... Keith was jerking off to him? Warmth splattered across his arse and thigh as Keith let out a long growl... fuck... fuck...

  Coming hard enough to fall completely boneless, Keith kissed his inner thighs before lowering his legs off his shoulders. Climbing up, his husband collapsed next to him, brow damp with sweat as he grinned, a hand lazily coming up to pat around on Lance's chest until Lance raised his hand to capture Keith's. Lance hoped his husband knew how much effort that took and how floaty he felt in the after glow of probably the bet orgasm of his life. Laying there, they both caught their breaths, Keith wriggling to lay up against him, nuzzling and kissing his shoulder

"Babe? You ok?"

"Mhmm..."

"Ok... fuck... you came so hard it came out my nose"

Laughing weakly, Keith