#‘hey since your moving in a few months there’s a boundary we’ve attempted to set multiple times and you’ve ignored us every time so we’re

[avpd-queer]

I’m still so fucked up by everything that went down with my former best friend, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. They really set me back. They proved to me that my only value to people is as a doormat.

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[cadence-talle]

All That Glitters (Could Be Gold)

Pairing: Keefe Sencen/Fitz Vacker

Wordcount: 1,400

For @vibing-in-the-void! I love you so much, Erica, and I hope you enjoy this. (Sorry if it’s a bit messy- I wrote it in a single hour.)

A lamp shines soft light upon his desk as Fitz slips his suit jacket on, glancing in the mirror to fix his hair one last time. Biana swings open the door and places a bouquet on the table, looking at him with her trademark “little sister” stare. 

“You nervous?” she asks. Fitz shrugs. 

“Yeah. But that’s normal, isn’t it.”

Biana snorts, reaching forward to pat down a stray lock of hair that’s sticking up. “Pretty much. You’ll be fine, though. You two have been practically married for years- you can’t exactly fuck it all up now.”

“Thanks,” Fitz says dryly. “Real vote of confidence there.”

Shooting him a wink, Biana turns towards the exit. “Ten minutes,” she says. “Try not to freak out.”

Fitz rolls his eyes and glances back at the lamp, lightbulb inside flickering quietly as he lets out a small sigh. 

-/-

The fire in front of them is built up high, flames twisting this way and that and providing warmth for about five feet in every direction. Fitz and Keefe are the only ones still up, marshmallow skewers long discarded and any attempts at conversation carried away by the wind. Fitz glances at his best friend, hesitant to break the fragile quiet that hangs in the air. 

Things have been… weird, between them, lately. Neither is really able to accept that the other has forgiven them, and they both are stunned that they don’t seem to care about Sophie’s announcement. 

(“So, uh,” Sophie says, stumbling over her words in the way she does when she’s nervous. Fitz can practically see her stopping herself from pulling out an eyelash. “I need to tell you guys something.”

“Go ahead,” Keefe encourages. “We’ve got your back, whatever it is.”

“Yeah.” Fitz nods along. 

“I, um-” Sophie takes a deep breath. “I’m gay.”

The room is silent for a moment before Fitz speaks. “Okay.”

Both Keefe and Sophie give him looks of complete surprise, mouths hanging open. Keefe blinks and shakes his head. 

“You’re not upset?” 

“No,” Fitz says. “Why would I be? Sophie and I already broke up. Are you upset?”

“No!” Keefe’s eyebrows shoot up. “No. I’m really happy for you, Sophie.” Fitz lets out a small, almost unintelligible snort at that.

Sophie smiles, seeming to miss the hostile looks that are crossing the room. 

“Thanks, guys. You two are the best.”)

In any case, they’ve been walking a thin line between confusion and anger recently. Tonight is the first night that almost feels normal, like all the antagonism of the past few months has started to fade away. He doesn’t want to ruin it. 

Keefe shifts next to him, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. “What time is it?” He asks. Fitz lifts one shoulder. 

“Late, probably. You should go to sleep.”

Keefe makes a “mhm” noise and scoots closer to Fitz, leaning his head on the other boy’s shoulder. Fitz freezes, but Keefe doesn’t seem to notice. 

“I don’t hate you, you know,” he mumbles. Fitz frowns. 

“What?”

“You keep acting like I hate you. I don’t.”

“Oh.” Fitz bites his lip, trying to think. He’s too tired for this conversation. “Well, I don’t hate you either.”

“Good.” The word is muffled by Keefe snuggling closer. “I’m glad. I love you.”

Fitz’s eyes go wide, but he forces himself to relax. Keefe is tired, he reminds himself. He won’t even remember this in the morning. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s three am. Maybe it’s the fire, flames moving in the wind. Maybe it’s the woods around them, so still, like everything in the world is holding its breath. Or maybe Fitz has been waiting to hear those words for his whole life.

Whatever it is, nothing can stop him from leaning down and pressing a tiny kiss to the crown of Keefe’s head.  

“I love you too.”

-/- 

Water casts an odd light along the ceiling of the huge room, shifting and shimmering in greens and blues. Fitz sets the end of his mini-golf club against the fake grass, meeting Keefe’s eyes with what he hopes is a menacing glare. 

“You’re going down.”

Keefe leans on his club, offering a sunny smile. 

“Try me.”

Which would be a lot more threatening if his club didn’t slip out from under him and make him trip directly into the fake river. 

He surfaces thirty seconds later, sopping wet from the waist up and sputtering water. “Gah! Do they ever clean that thing?”

“I would assume not,” Fitz deadpans, “since its primary purpose is to be an obstacle in mini golf, and not a wading pool for a gremlin trapped in the body of an eighteen-year-old boy.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you-” Keefe lunges for him, forgetting too late where he’s standing and tripping over the edge of the river. He falls directly on top of Fitz, covering both of them in very unclean water. 

The water is the least of Fitz’s problems right now, though, since his face is approximately three inches away from Keefe’s. 

They’ve been… closer, since the camping trip; testing the boundaries of their hastily-repaired friendship. This- whatever it is- is quickly growing past the confines of “best friends,” and Fitz has no idea what to do. 

Neither does Keefe, apparently, because they stay there for a full minute. Just staring at each other, fixed in some sort of staring contest, until Fitz thinks fuck it and smashes their mouths together. 

The reflection of water on the ceiling twinkles merrily as they’re kicked out of the mini golf place for “indecent conduct”. Fitz can’t find it in himself to care. 

-/-

The diamonds in the display case shimmer in a rainbow of colors, taunting him as Fitz twirls the ring in his fingers. It’s nice- heavy, solid gold, a simple band without decoration. In any other circumstances, Fitz would just buy it and be done. It’s good enough. 

Good enough, though, isn’t what he’s looking for. No, this needs to be perfect. 

Something in the very back of the case catches his eye, a flash of purple. He points towards it and the man behind the counter pulls it out. 

It’s beautiful- two gold bands, twisted around each other and around a deep purple gem. Fitz thinks it’s an amethyst, but he’s not sure; darker on the outside, a glimmer of a lighter shade at the center. It’s elegant and pretty and perfect.  

“I’ll take this one,” he says. The man raises an eyebrow. 

“That ring is quite expensive, sir.” 

Fitz reaches into his pocket and pulls out a slim black credit card, the name Alden Vacker emblazoned on it in silver letters. His father’s card, left behind after he was arrested. Fitz likes to use it to buy things sometimes; ice cream at 4am, once, or a giant panda pillow that they gave to Linh and Biana’s kids. He imagines his father looking at the receipts and being utterly stunned. 

He’s petty like that. 

Carefully, the man behind the counter places the ring into a box and hands it over. Fitz takes a deep breath, holding it close for a minute before depositing it in his bag. 

“Thank you,” he says, and exits, leaving the shimmering store behind him. 

-/-

Fitz walks out of his room, bouquet in hand. Biana, Linh, and Sophie are standing at the back of the aisle- Marella’s up front with the rest of the groomsmen. He glances around, seeing familiar faces in every seat. 

There are lights everywhere. 

Along the backs of the chairs, hidden among the flowers, strung on lines hanging over the crowd. Everything is illuminated in a golden light, like they’re in an ethereal fairy world. 

Vaguely, he registers the bridesmaids moving down the aisle, hears the strains of music. But he only snaps back to reality when someone takes his arm, blond hair and teasing smile immediately recognizable. 

“Hey,” Keefe murmurs. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I love you,” Fitz says bluntly. “I should be saving that for the end of the ceremony, but you need to know.”

Keefe snorts, hand taking Fitz’s and squeezing. “I do know. We’re getting married, remember.”

Fitz can’t even come up with a good response, he’s so in love with this man. So he just tugs them forward, down the aisle and towards their friends, their family. Towards their future.

The lights around them seem to shine even brighter. 

[evening-starlight]

Chances {Chapter Eight}

Late night writing bender Pt2 :))

Edited in Grammarly

Stevie Does Wonders

Word Count: 1389

    Tom and I started seeing each other a lot more after that. He was the second most significant reason for getting out of bed every day - the first being recording, of course. He made me happy and excited to wake up every day because I knew I would talk to him every time. There was no mystery on which Tom I would get. It was always a caring, supportive person on the other end of our conversations.

    On nights the band and I were up late in the studio, Tom would send us treats and dinner. He took care of not only me but my family too. Heather was the first to point out how my attitude had changed.

    "You don't usually sing in your higher range," Heather points out from outside the booth, her voice coming through the headphones I wore. I shrug. "Tom's got you all girly; you're even singing like one." I flip her the bird, but really I can't help but smile. Tom really has brought out the best in me in the three months I've known him.

    I'm starting to think he's good luck. Jared has pulled back on his attempts to contact me, sending flowers just once a week now. The band and I are almost finished with our second album, including the deluxe version with four added songs. I've cleaned my apartment thoroughly since it's become a depression pit, and I feel like a brand new person as a whole. So Tom has got to be a good luck totem.

    "Hey, Stella, Stevie is here for your session," Naomi speaks. "We're going out to lunch. Do you want us to bring you anything back?"

    "Surprise me," I smile. Stevie is my therapist. I hired him during my divorce and have kept him ever since. He lets me vent before coming up with solutions and has been fantastic at helping me overcome my anxiety and depression. We hold our sessions in the studio to record them and listen back to them when I need to. Some snippets have made it onto our album as well.

    Stevie walks in as I set up the audio for two-way without him having to press any buttons. "Hey Stella, it's been a while," He greets. Stevie went on vacation to Germany over the last three months. He offered alternatives to waiting for him, and I used them when I had to, but nothing beats the real deal.

    "Hey, Steve. We're all good to start recording." He starts with his standard starting comment, 'start with a sour and find a sweet.' "Sour," I begin. "Jared continues to send gifts to my apartment. Robbie is still using my car. And I still get awful depressive episodes," Stevie nods as he writes down some notes. "Sweet," I stop, thinking over everything that's happened in the last three months. "Everything else.

    "I met a guy, and he makes me feel like I'm walking on air. He makes me feel appreciated and comfortable. He supports the band and me, sending us gifts and food when we need it. I do have my reservations about it, but we've seen each other at least once a week for the past month if not more times a week. The band and I are almost done with our album, and my apartment is finally cleaned." Stevie waits a few seconds before asking any questions.

    "It sounds like you've been having a very productive few months, Stella." I nod. "So, tell me more about his guy. Why do you have reservations about it?"

    "Well, he's just as close to perfect as one person can get. He waits for me to talk when I'm in a mood, and he started keeping my favorite snacks in his car for me. He texts me in the morning and asks me questions about my day at night," I start pacing the recording booth, caught up in my tangent about Tom. "He knows my favorite coffee order and my favorite coffee house. He asks how the guys are and what I want to do when our deal is over. He doesn't push on the Jared topic." I stop to look at Stevie. "I let it slip about being divorced on our first date."

    "Date?" Stevie asks, biting his lips to hide a smile. "So you're dating again?"

    "I wouldn't say that. Just," I pause to think. "Enjoying. I enjoy being around him. Everyone's noticed a change too. Heather was talking about it before you came in. Tom is just amazing."

    "And why are you having some reservations about it?"

    I sigh and start to pace again. The main reason is our age difference. It's almost as close as mine and Jared's gap. Sixteen years. "Well," I start. "For one, there's the age difference. It's significant. Not quite as bad and Jared's, but it's noticeable. Then there's the fact that he's way too cool for me and also the fact that maybe he's just like Jared, and this is all just to get me into the position again. I don't think I could go through that again and come out alive." I admit.

    "Alright, do you have an Expo in there?" Stevie asks. I hold up the red one we keep in the booth for notes. "I need you to make two lists. Red flags and green flags."

    Green flags: he's an amazing listener, he lets us go at my own pace, and he respects my boundaries without argument or guilt-tripping

    Red flags: age gap

    I make a third collum, yellow flags. He hasn't made a move to kiss me yet.

    "I can't read backward to tell me the lists," Stevie tasks. That is a fat lie, and we both know it; he just wants me to read out my lists. I do quickly, watching him write more notes. He takes so many notes when he's with me, I wonder if he does it to other clients. "Does it bother you that he hasn't made the first move yet?" I nod. "Why?"

    "Because I'm worried if I do, he'll think I'm too much to handle or that I'm coming off too strong. That he'll lose interest when  I'm not submissive anymore?" The last sentence comes out as a question.

    "Jared always made you feel like you needed to be submissive." Stevie states. We've been over this a thousand times. "But this guy, you mentioned his name is Tom. Tom isn't Jared, is he?" I shake my head. "So why are we treating him like Jared? We don't know if he'll end up like Jared, but that's a risk we take with every person we meet. We can't avoid it."

    "We can if we stay in our apartment our whole life," I sass. Stevie tilts his head to the side with an amused eyebrow raise. I sigh. "I know we can't judge people off of my past mistakes, but it still feels petrifying knowing he could be."

    "Has he given you any reason to believe he might be, besides the age?" I shake my head. "So why don't you explore it more? Try being more dominant in your role with him and test those waters. I'm not saying go headfirst into the deep end, be careful. But you have your support system always here for you and ready to catch you when you fall." I mutter an 'I know' and look over the lists I made again. "From my perspective, Stella, you seem to be smitten, and I don't want to see you lose something that could be good for you. We can't live life without risks." And there's a snippet for our song Risks.

    I nod again. I know everything Stevie's saying is right, but that doesn't make it less terrifying.

    This therapy session has played in my head repeatedly whenever I'm scared to try something new to this day. I even got 'We can't live without risks' tattooed on me to remind myself of that. That's Tom's second favorite tattoo of mine. He says it's because I would have never gotten it without him, which he's right. We'll talk about his first favorite in this book as well, don't worry. I know you all bought it so you can have a closer look at the god, that is Tom FUCKING Hiddleston.

@queenofallhobos

[inyourwildestdreamslove]

Fearless Chapter 2

You deal in fear…

So who else to help Klaus master his powers? Who is quite determined to set you up with his brother…

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one ever does darling…”

Chapter one

Diego x Reader

Chapter 2: We’ll Carry On

It has been all of a month when you look over at Klaus from your spot on the couch and say, “Why don’t you just move in? You pretty much live here anyway…”

He glances up from fighting the ball of string and over to you.

“Really?!” he asks perking up instantly.

“Sure… I have a spare room and we can implement some of those boundaries for the ghosts that we researched last week. It’ll be easier to do here since my place is way smaller than the academy.”

“Thank you!” he yells as he launches himself at you and you jump back out of surprise before you hug him back. You feel him almost snuggle against you as you just awkwardly pat him on the back.

“What’s with the sting by the way?” you ask after he had pulled himself away from you.

“I don’t...really know what to do with my hands… and my mind won’t shut off… I can’t focus for shit and all I want is a hit of something!”

“Hold on a second,” you say as you get off the couch and head downstairs to your studio that you lived above.

Klaus and Ben share a look with one another out of curiosity as they hear your footsteps coming back up the stairs. You have a package in your hand as you lightly toss it over to him.

“What’s this? Model Magic?”

“It’s modeling clay. It’s super soft and malleable. Why you don’t you see if playing with it helps? Maybe you could make something?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want…”

He paused for a moment to think about it before he seemed to give up.

“What do you make with it?”

“Monsters.”

“Monsters? But they are scary! I don’t want to make anything scary!”

You just laugh, “Then make a cute monster! It doesn’t have to be scary!”

Klaus stops to contemplate this concept before he rips into the package and pulls it out.

“It’s so soft!” he say in wonder as he looks at it with a bright eyed happiness you see on the faces of children.

“It’s just like Play Doh…” you say in slight confusion.

“What’s Play Doh?” he asks in distracted confusion; the clay in his hands capturing most of his attention.

“You’ve never played with Play Doh?!” you ask in bewilderment.

“No? We were only allowed to play ‘during a designated time between half past 12 and 1 on Saturdays,’” he says in a mockingly deep voice, obviously his rendition of his late father.

“Well…” you say softly, “Your childhood is obviously worse than I could even imagine.”

He just shrugs in reply and loses himself in his little creation.

It’s almost an hour later that he proudly presents you with his finished creation. And adorable little monster with tentacles sprouting from different places.

“Cute! When it dries do you want to paint it?!” you ask in excitement.

Klaus nods in excitement and carefully puts his creation down.

“So is this what you do all day? Play with clay?”

“I make monsters for the movies,” you say with a shrug.

He blinks at you for a moment, “What do you mean?”

“I’m a special effects makeup artist,” you say with a laugh. “I’m the one who turns people into monsters for the movies.”

“That’s so cool!” he exclaims as he jumps onto the couch beside of you.

“Yeah it’s one of the ways I keep on top of my powers. Bringing scary things to life outside of my head helps me deconstruct it and master it in my own way.”

“Maybe… it could help me too?”

“Maybe… you never know…”

That Sunday at the family dinner Klaus presented his monster to his siblings proudly, and although they were all very confused by his little monster, they were all very happy that he was a month clean. Even Five took a break from scowling about things to ask him about his new friend, which effectively peaked the interest of the rest of his siblings.

Which is how three days later you find yourself gazing up at a very large man.

“I’m Luther…”

“Really?”

“Yes… Really.”

“Look pal… You touch a hair on his head….”

“What? No! I really am his brother.”

“Oh… okay...the last guy that showed up pretending to be his brother tried to strangle him in my back room.”

“What? Why?”

You shrug in reply, “Klaus owed him money.”

You hear the man in front of you scoff and roll his eyes, “Figures.”

“Ok… well… fun talk. Klaus is upstairs if you want to go talk to him.”

“I actually came to meet you.”

“I see…”

“You seem normal…” he says with narrowed suspicious eyes.

“Klaus!” you yell as you turn your back on the large man before you and walk up the stairs to your apartment.

“There is a large man here! You should annoy him until he leaves!”

“It’s Luther isn’t it?” he asks as he appears at the top of the stairs in a bath towel with a pink shower cap on.

“How many large men do you know?”

“Enough…”

“What about me?” yells Luther from the bottom of the stairs.

“What about you?” you both ask as you turn towards him.

“Well…. Aren’t you going to invite me up”

You and Klaus exchange a look, “Nope…” you both mutter in unison as you walk into your apartment.

“That was mean…” you say as you plop down on the couch feeling slightly guilty.

“He’ll live…” Klaus mutters as he retreats back into the room.

It’s two days later that a teen boy just appears in your kitchen.

You turn from the coffee maker and see inquisitive eyes and school boy shorts and just hand him the coffee in your hand.

“Thanks… You’re not what Luther said you were.”

“Luther called me normal,” you say primly as you turn and pour another cup of coffee.

A smirk slides across his face, “So you are one of us.”

“Regardless of whether I was or not… I would hardly call myself normal on a good day.”

“I see…”

You just shrug nonchalantly as pour creamer into the coffee in front of you.

“Why the monsters?”

“The act of breaking your fears down and reconstructing them allows you to gain power over them. This happens in a safe and fun environment.”

He smirks and looks down into the coffee in front of him, “You do know how to help him.”

“I know what worked for me may not work for him, but we will figure it out.”

“Do you love my brother.”

“Of course I do… Ben may be on another dimensional plane but I adore him…”

“HEY!”

“You too, Klaus!”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

“So what kind of coffee is this?”

“I get it from this coffee shop down the street, they roast their own beans. Best coffee in the city, I’ll give you the address.”

“Thank you.”

Klaus chooses that moment to walk out of his bedroom and plop down at the table.

“I approve,” Says Five as he flashes out of sight.

“Did you hear that Klaus? The Coffee Goblin approves of me!” you say happily as you take another sip of your drink.

“Coffee Goblin? Why didn’t I think of that?” he asks has he attempts to steal your own coffee, you just swat his hand away with a glare. 

The hesitant knock at your door rouses you from your work. You glance over and can see a figure through the glass. You wash the clay from your hands and walk over to the door and open it to find a young woman around your age wearing a button up shirt, brown pants and tennis shoes.

“Vanya,” you say with a smile as you usher her in.

“How do you know who I am?” she asks hesitantly.

“Klaus has told me about all of his siblings! He says you play violin, tell me the next time you play and we will have to go! I love the orchestra.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

“Oh.. okay that would be great.”

“(Y/N)! Does this skirt make me look fat?”

You look up at Klaus as he comes in the room.

“Vanya!” he exclaims holding up his cigarette, “When did you get here?”

He happily walks over to her and pulls her into a slight hug.

“Klaus we’ve talked about smoking in the house…”

“But it’s cold outside!” he whines as he plops down next to you on the couch and rests his head on your shoulder.

“He’s always been like this hasn’t he?” you ask as you glance over at Vanya.

“Yeah...pretty much…”

“Vanya! You wound me!” he exclaims dramatically.

“Cigarette out!”

“Okay! Okay! Geeze… We need to get you laid…”

“And you wonder why Ben is my favorite.”

“Drop dead…”

“Don’t talk to my child like that!”

“He’s a grown man!”

“You’re right… You’re my child…”

He throws his right hand up dramatically as he walks out to the balcony.

“How?” Vanya breaths out after a moment.

“I deal with the melodramatic for a living… You want some tea?”

“Umm… sure.”

“Great I’ll put the kettle on!”

It was a week before another Hargreeves shows up at your house. It was around ten at night and the three of you had rented a movie to watch. Sudden there is a knock on your window? All three of you turn towards the window and blink in confusion.

“OH! It’s fine it’s just Diego!”

“Does Diego have an aversion to doors?” you ask as you glance over the couch to the window.

Klaus just shrugs as he gets up to open the window and in climbs Diego.

“Diego! What are you doing here!” exclaims Klaus.

“I wanted to meet the girl that pissed Luther off,” he says with a smirk as he turns to you.

You turn towards Klaus after giving Diego the once over, “I’m not calling him Daddy no matter how many times he asks.”

Diego looks confused, “Daddy?”

While Klaus just bursts out laughing.

“Careful princess…” Diego says after a moment, sharing your wicked gleam and a smirk, “I may have to spank you.”

“Ooo...I better be a good girl then…” you say before you throw your head back with laugh.

You notice the look on Klaus’ face and you raise a brow at him. He just sends you a smirk and and wink. You roll your eyes and turn towards your new guest.

“Have you eaten? There is leftover pasta in the fridge.”

“Damn you’re going to feed me too? You can call me whatever you want then,” he says with a wink.

You laugh as you hop off of the sofa to heat up the pasta. You walk back in a few minutes later and hand him the plate. He quietly thanks you and begins to eat.

“You should just marry her Klaus!” Diego says around a mouth full of pasta.

“I agree! Let’s get married!” Klaus exclaims as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you towards him happily.

“Of course darling… we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“Yay!” he exclaims as he snuggles into you more.

You give him an affectionate smile and roll your eyes as you stroke his hair.

“Diego, if you aren’t too busy saving the general population, you should stay and watch a movie with us.”

He thinks for a moment before nodding, “Sure it would be good to relax for a night.”

The four of you end up settling in…

“Ben wants to know if we can watch that new horror movie that just came out?”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me… I’ll put it on.”

...and enjoying the night.

And that is how you met most of Klaus’ siblings.

For those of you wondering... I did not forget Allison. I just figured she would be back in LA with her daughter at this time. Don’t worry they will meet in the future! I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you think!

[artemisegeria]

Love by Design (Chapter 9/11)

Title: Love by Design (Chapter 9/11)

Rating: T

Word count: 3188

Warnings: None for this chapter.  

Summary: Vision makes elaborate foam art as a barista at the coffee shop that his brother owns. One day a new customer comes in, and he completely loses his cool. As she keeps coming back, they grow closer. A casual acquaintance becomes something much more.

Chapter Summary: Wanda and the others comfort Vision after the sudden upheaval in his life. They also come up with a plan to fix an injustice. Meanwhile, Vision ponders where he will go next.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272371

Chapter 1  | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 

A/N: Well, it’s been another multi-month gap between updates. Sorry, but life and writer’s block do sadly get in the way of fanfiction. It has been a real struggle. But I can say that I have officially planned out this fic all the way to the end, and I will finish it, so I can move on to other things with a clear conscience. This is the third to last chapter.

Part of this chapter and the next was inspired by a comment on Chapter 8 from FrozenHearts, who suggested “I hope Wanda's fellow teachers rise up and barge in and help get Vision's stuff back.” It was not in the original plan, but I liked the idea so much that I rearranged a few things. So thank you for that.

And thank you to everyone who continues to read this despite my inconsistency. I hope you enjoy.

After a leisurely morning hanging around the apartment together, Wanda waited for Vision to return from his mission to find out what happened to the coffee shop, busying herself by straightening up her apartment and cooking. The others had all agreed to come over. Natasha was bringing over some drinks. Steve and Bucky were bringing some chips and lending clothes to Vision, as they were the closest to his size. Mantis and Nebula were bringing some games.

He finally knocked on her door about four p.m. She would have to get him a key if he was going to be staying with her. His unusually hunched posture suggested that things did not go well. He carried a small box, and nothing else.

She took the box from him and set it carefully in the corner. “Do you still feel up to having people over tonight?” He didn’t look quite as lost as the previous night, but he was avoiding her eyes.

“Yes, I believe the distraction would be helpful.” His tone was hollow.

She guided him to the couch. “What happened?”

He sighed and finally looked at her fully. “I knocked on the door. A stranger answered. When I explained who I was, he shrugged and said I collect a few personal items. He followed me the whole time I was in the apartment. I tried to determine what was going on. All they said was that Ultron had sold them the business to pay off some of his debts. He would not let me take my computer or any of my books. Though, he did offer to sell them back to me. I simply left.”

“I’m sorry, Vizh.” Wanda deliberately kept her words soft and slow. She had half a mind to go down and talk to the new owners herself. She could set them straight. But it wasn’t truly her place, and Vision needed her more at the moment.

“It’s alright. I don’t want to dwell on that right now. What can I do to help prepare for our friends?” She allowed him to change the subject, though she continued watching him with some concern as they laid out cups, plates, and silverware.

They only had a few moments to themselves to sit quietly before Bucky and Steve were the first to arrive.

***

Later that night, the party was in full swing, everyone putting on a good face to cheer Vision up. Tony even brought a karaoke machine. Vision and Wanda headed off any attempts at matchmaking by volunteering to go first, with a non-romantic rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing.”

Wanda resisted the urge to stay by Vision’s side all night. She simply wasn’t ready to tell the others yet. Though she was a bit surprised that no one had yet questioned Vision’s sleeping arrangements.

She was in the middle of pondering what else she could do to help Vision when a grinning Scott approached her. “Hey, Wanda, a few of us were thinking that we may have a way to right the wrong that’s happened to Vizh. You in?” 

“Of course. What does this involve?”

“Oh, just a little heist.” Scott smiled even more widely. Wanda was vaguely aware that he had a juvenile record from his Robin Hood activities, but she had never seen him in full planning mode. “Nat and I already looked into these buyers. Their security system is ridiculously lax. Bucky, Steve, and Tony agreed to do a stakeout to see when the building is empty. Then, we go right in, get Vision’s stuff, and walk right out again.”

Wanda could see one glaring problem with this plan. “I’m not saying no, but what about after? I don’t want them thinking Vision was involved.”

“Oh, that’s already taken care of, too. Nat dug a little deeper. She prepared a file of all their financial indiscretions. They’ll keep quiet about it.”

“You two are thorough. Let’s do it.” They shook hands on the deal as Nat walked in with some glasses. Scott gave her a thumbs up.

The plan confirmed, Wanda returned to the main room. She squeezed in between Vision and Nebula. He almost put his arm around her naturally, but he stopped himself at the last moment and turned the motion into placing his arm behind his head.

They stayed up laughing and playing around until weak dawn light started to pour in through the curtains.

*** 

Despite his exhaustion after two nights of virtually no sleep, Vision managed to apply himself to the next task at hand. Wanda left the apartment to run some errands and attend a practice session in preparation for her concert, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He and Wanda had not had a proper opportunity to talk about how his staying with her would work. He felt that their relationship was still too new assume that he could stay indefinitely. 

He did not even know what their lasting sleeping arrangements would be. They had not broached the topic due to the chaos of the last two days. While both of them had grown more used to physical closeness over the last month of their new relationship status, sharing a bed seemed a major leap. 

It was some hours later before he realized how much time had passed. When he looked at his watch, he determined that it was time to start dinner so it would be ready when Wanda returned. He put together a salad, an entrée of chicken, broccoli, and rice, and brownies for dessert. They had hardly had time to eat a proper meal over the last two days either.

He was just arranging the candles and place settings when Wanda rushed in, beautifully flushed from the heat outside. “Wow! You really went all out. You didn’t have to do all this.” 

He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I know, but I wanted to thank you.” Noting the protest forming on Wanda’s lips, Vision continued, “I know that I do not have to, but I want to.” 

“Okay.” She admired the table, and Vision felt a surge of pride. She looked far too impressed by his efforts, but he was gratified by her reaction regardless. “And thank you.” 

Dinner was a quiet affair. Wanda spoke a little about her practice, but was curiously close-lipped about the errands she had completed beforehand. She insisted on helping him to clean up. They fell into a brief soap bubble war before moving to the couch for the evening. 

Eventually, Wanda sat up more fully and looked at Vision directly. “You’re welcome to share my bed tonight.” She smiled, but her gaze turned serious. “The couch is too small for you. I know we haven’t really talked about it, but it only makes sense.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t presume-.”

Wanda said at the same moment, “I know.” Vision immediately paused and gestured her on. She smiled, certain that was coming. “That’s why I’m offering.” She put a hand on his arm. “Only if you want,” she added.

“I would like to.” The thought of lying beside her and waking up with her was indeed very pleasant. Still, Vision considered that she might yet change her mind. He did not know the proper boundaries or the words to make himself understood. “If you’re sure.” He hoped that those three words might convey half of his uncertainty. 

“I’m sure.” Her response held all the warmth of her smile and the touch of her hand. His own smile widened to mirror it. “We’ve cuddled together before. There’s no reason this would be any different.” 

“I see your point.” 

“Okay. Just let me get ready, and then you can.” She jumped up, and he immediately mourned her loss, even though her absence would be momentary.

It was only a few minutes before Wanda emerged and beckoned him to her door. Vision retrieved his pajamas from his small box of belongings. He changed quickly, unnerved by the sensation of being naked in a new space. He focused on Wanda’s décor, which carried a charming imprint of her like the rest of her apartment. Knick knacks were scattered around. It was not his preferred style, but it suited Wanda. And he would never have her change any part of herself for him. 

Once his nighttime ablutions were complete, he took a breath and opened the door to let Wanda in. As they climbed into bed, Vision wondered how they were supposed to arrange their limbs. Wanda was apparently thinking along the same lines because she rolled to face him. “Sorry, this is a little weird.” The single bedside lamp cast odd shadows on her face.

He nodded in understanding. It was strange. He had not shared a bed with anyone since he was a small boy. He feared taking up too much of Wanda’s space. There was only so much he could compress himself. “I agree. Do you want me to move to the couch?” 

“No, I just don’t want to kick you or something. I flail around a lot in my sleep sometimes.”

It was comforting to know that Wanda felt her own uncertainty at times, but he reached out to reassure her as she did him. He laid a hand gently on her arm. “I do not fear a bit of jostling.” 

“Okay.” They both turned over onto their backs, not touching. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.” It was odd sharing a bed. Vision wasn’t used to being so close. The warmth coming from Wanda was pleasant, but he was not quite sure where to place his limbs. He did not want to bump into her or crowd her either. Vision noted that Wanda was also unnaturally still. It took some time for him to give into sleep after those musings. 

Still, when he woke in the morning, he supposed that he had been worrying over nothing. During the night, their bodies had resolved the dilemma for them. Wanda had ended up in the middle of the bed, her breath softly feathering the side of his neck. One of his arms had landed across her middle. Judging by the smile on her serene face, her sleeping self did not mind.

After dinner on the second quiet night they settled on the couch, and Wanda presented him with a small box. Vision held his breath, for a moment convinced that she was proposing to him. But when he opened it, he was relieved to see a simple key. It was not that the idea of marriage was repellant, but it was surely to soon for that.

Vision forced himself to respond calmly as Wanda looked at him expectantly. “Am I to assume that this is a key to your apartment?”

“Yeah, since you’re staying here, I want you to feel comfortable coming and going whenever you want.”

“Thank you.” stroked through her hair, and she sighed. “Wanda, there is something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Okay…” she muttered into his shirt.

“Much as I have loved staying with you, I would like to find my own place.”

Wanda raised her head to look at him properly. “You don’t have to, you know, if you’re saying that for my sake.”

“I’m not. I have never had a space that is truly my own. Besides, we have only been dating for a month.”

“That’s a good point. You should get the chance to experience that. I still remember when I moved away from Pietro for the first time. I was a wreck for the first few weeks, calling him every night sobbing, but once I got used to it, it was wonderful.”

Once they were lying in bed together, Wanda added, “Keep the key, though. Use it as you see fit.” Vision accepted her suggestion with a soft kiss.

The next morning Vision called Marian’s number, hoping that she hadn’t found a tenant yet. “Hello?”

“Hello, Marian? This is Vision; we met at the river clean-up back in May.”

“Yes, dear, I remember you. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you were still searching for a tenant for your condo.”

“Why, yes, I am. I was beginning to think no one would ever take me up on the offer. Do you have a name for me?”

“Actually, I would be the prospective tenant. I have found myself rather suddenly in need of accommodations.”

“Nothing would make me happier, Vision. My schedule is open all this week and next if you have any time to come see the old place and discuss terms.”

“Yes, today would be wonderful, if I may.” They set a meeting time, and Vision felt as if a tremendous weight was lifted from his shoulders. Before leaving, he wrote a note for Wanda, informing her that he was going to inquire about an apartment.

Marian was as gracious as Vision expected. They caught up on the past months of news and current events over cups of coffee. Then, she gave him a tour, pointing proudly to the pictures of her children and grandchildren. When they sat down again after that, Marian proposed a scandalously low rent. Vision had to negotiate to get her up to a reasonable level given his research on the local rental market and projected future home prices. She did get her way on the point of insisting that she leave her furniture, claiming that she had no need for it at her new place and it would only be left on the curb if he refused.

Vision agreed, and they shook hands on their deal. Marian let him know that he could move in as soon as he was ready. Vision thanked her and waved on his way to his car, feeling like he had finally made progress toward a new, Ultron-free life.

***

A few weeks later, Wanda was working on preparing some lesson plans when Scott and Sam entered the breakroom. She was grateful for the summer emptiness of the school. It allowed her to think properly, as well as plan illegal activities with her colleagues. “I think we’re ready.”

“Oh, good! Vizh was able to move into his new place the other day, but he still spends most of the time at mine. He says it feels too empty there.” He was spending every other spare moment working to reconstruct his presentation for his conference. She hoped to be remove that burden from him.

Sam grinned at her and alarm bells sounded in her head. “Good excuse to seal the deal.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no deal, and I’m not trying to seal anything.” 

“Sure, whatever you say, Wanda.” Sam spoke good naturedly, but his eyes glinted. Wanda felt that the only possible response to this that would not dig herself a deeper hole was silence. 

She was rescued when Tony and the rest trouped in. Among them all, they hammered out the final details. Scott assured them he had transportation. Natasha finalized the security details. The others provided material support and muscle, and Wanda had the knowledge of what items were most important to retrieve for Vision.

After their meeting was over, Wanda sat back and relaxed for a few minutes before going home. She reflected that such trust and cooperation would not have been possible six months earlier. She never would have expected to even receive an offer of help, nonetheless relying on these people to carry it out.

Wanda smiled softly to herself as she gathered her things and walked home. 

***

A few days later, Wanda ran her hands over Vision’s neck and shoulders while she kissed him. He settled his hands on her waist. They continued in a similar fashion for some time. “Your apartment is a much more congenial location for kissing than mine.”

She found herself chuckling. “I’m glad you think so.” She leaned in to kiss him again. “I’m trying to soften you up before I ask you a favor.”

The level of concern in his frown as he pulled away warmed her. “You don’t have to kiss me to encourage me to do you a favor. What do you need?”

She kissed his cheek. “I’m teasing, Vizh.” 

“Oh.” He looked away from her, his face reddening in embarrassment.

She drew his face back to hers with her fingers on his chin. She tried to smile reassuringly at him, and he returned the gesture. “I was just hoping that I could have a key to your place, since you have one to mine. It only seems fair.”

“Of course. You are welcome any time.” They did not waste any more time that evening talking. Vision had not had much time for anything besides preparing his presentation in the last few weeks. This respite was just what he needed to carry on. 

***

Wanda waited in the school parking lot under the cover of darkness. Eventually, a van that she didn’t recognize pulled up. She pointedly ignored it until the passenger window rolled down and Scott stuck his head out. “Hey, Wanda. Come on, we’re all here.” 

She squeezed herself into the middle row with Natasha, Steve, and Bucky. Scott introduced her to the others in the front and back as old friends from his delinquent days. The driver, Luis, drove out from the parking lot, around the corner, and down the street from the coffee shop.

Wanda was never so grateful to live in a small, sleepy town. It was barely past ten o’clock, and the streets were dark and silent. The four friends stepped out of the van and walked to the alley behind the shop. She held her breath slightly when Bucky started picking the luck, but the task was accomplished soon enough. No alarms sounded, so apparently Natasha, Scott, and his team did their job.

Wanda led the way up the back stairs. The apartment above at least looked undisturbed. They quickly started unfolding the boxes they had brought. She found Vision’s laptop and computer bag first, handling it with care. Then, she went for his books. The others gathered his clothes and other personal effects.

She was just admiring their handiwork and checking for any other missed items when she caught sight of the bottle with the model ship sitting on the mantel. Wanda bit her lip. Given recent events, she wasn’t at all sure that Vizh would want the reminder of his brother. But she figured that was his choice. She removed it and nestled it among some clothes in one of the boxes.

They were finally ready to back out the way they had come. They were able to carry all the boxes in one trip. Stacking them in the back of the van, Luis drove away as if he had not just aided and abetted a felony. They dropped Wanda off at her apartment on the way to wherever the van was kept.

She waved at them from the front door of her building. As soon as she reached her own apartment, she changed into pajamas and collapsed into bed. She couldn’t wait to surprise Vision with this.

[mischiefandspirits]

Iron Legion (20/?)

Never let it be said that Tony Stark ever does things by half. He might have grown up with little family, but he wasn’t about to keep it that way.

Tony Stark was seventeen when his first child was born, and that was just the beginning.

For Masterpost, Timeline, AO3, and Fanfiction

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arachne Mark II, Part 3

Tony was not having the best day. Ross the Lesser had called in a meeting with the Avengers, including him despite his arguments that he wasn’t an Avenger anymore. Pepper’s stay in Moscow had been extended. He’d had to push back his weekly call to the Keener gang. He wasn’t going to have time to check in with Peter once he got back to New York. And now there was this.

His name was Charlie Spencer.

“She doesn’t know what she was talking about, Boss. She’s just grieving,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said softly, her hologram appearing in the seat next to him.

“She wasn’t completely wrong.”

The AI crossed her arms and shook her head. “V.I.R.G.I.L. caused Sokovia. The only other people that can share the blame are HYDRA and the witch. None of that was your fault. You and the others did everything you could to stop him and save everyone. You worked to evacuate as many people as you could before the attack started and you helped save a lot of others while assisting the relief foundation.”

Tony sighed. “I know, but -”

“Should I bring up the list?”

He shot her a glare. “Alright, you and the doc aren’t allowed to talk about me anymore.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said with blatantly faux-innocence.

“‘Remember those you’ve lost, but don’t let the grief control you and keep in mind those you saved’,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Good advice.”

Tony snorted and stood up. “Check our arrival time with the pilot and send it to Ross the Lesser so he can meet Nebula and me at the mansion. I’m going to go take a nap before you decide to sell out my sleeping schedule to the doc too. Or worse, Pepper.”

“I would never.”

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.”

Tony considered pointing out that he had made up his mind. That he, alongside Drew and Nebula, had been keeping a careful watch on the UN’s meetings that had led to the Sokovia Accords and had been working to oust Ross the Lesser from his self-imposed place on the panel for this exact reason. That he had signed the accords alongside Drew nearly a month earlier because they could see the way the tide was turning and wanted to start building breakwaters before the first wave hit.

Instead, he just said, “Boy, you know me so well.”

“Do you know why Father announced who he was to the world when he first became Iron Man?” Nebula asked, dragging the Avengers’ attention to her as he stood up to find something to wash down his pain meds to alleviate his Rogers and B.A.R.F. induced headache. “Accountability. Ever since he returned from Afghanistan, accountability has been his number one priority. He made Stark Industries accountable for its tech by putting in extra security and checks. He made Iron Man accountable for his actions by letting everyone know who he is. Since establishing the Avengers, he has tried to make you all accountable as well using his government contacts and the Stark Relief Foundation, but that can only go so far.”

“The Avengers need to be put in check,” Tony agreed once he’d swallowed the pills. “We all do. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“We can’t just give up because -” Rogers started and Tony cut him off.

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“That is the most idiotic thing you’ve ever said.” Tony barely held back a snort at Nebula’s blank comment. “The accords don’t shift blame. If anything, they do the exact opposite. They make you accountable for your own actions.”

Rogers gave her a look that reeked with condescension and Tony bristled. “Listen -”

“Careful how you speak to my kid, Capsicle. She can beat you to the ground and I’d gladly watch,” Tony growled.

Everyone except Rhodey, Vision, and Nebula gave him disbelieving looks.

“Ditto,” Rhodey agreed, sending them a glare.

“I would have to agree as well,” Vision added, not noticing the pout Maximoff gave him at the statement. “Nebula’s training and abilities make her a match for the captain, even excluding the additional weaponry Mr. Stark has equipped her with.”

When the others still looked unconvinced, Nebula shrugged. “If you want proof, we can go down to the gym and spar. Maybe I can knock some sense into you while we’re at it.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” Rogers huffed. “We’re getting distracted from what we really need to talk about.” He turned to Tony. “What you did with your company, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

“You know,” Nebula started and the coldness in her voice had Tony and Rhodey stiffening. That voice never led to anything good for the one it was directed at. “I once met a man who thought his hands were the best ones to know how to protect a planet.” She held up her hand and it pulled apart to reveal the repulser inside. “He ended up taking my arm and more. Took so much, I can’t even remember his face.”

Finally catching on, Vision shot forward to place himself between her and Rogers. “Nebula,” he said softly.

She dropped her hand, letting it close. “I’m done with this,” she growled, turning to leave.

“I’ll take you home,” Tony said after sending the dumbfounded Rogers a glare.

“What was she talking about?” he heard Wilson ask once they were in the hall.

“Something private,” Rhodey answered. “Drop it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harley whistled. “I’m surprised she didn’t blast him in the face. And a little disappointed. It would have been hilarious.”

“I don’t condone violence, even against super soldiers who can take it,” Tony said before lowering his voice, “but yeah, it would have.”

“I heard that,” Tori called, appearing behind her son. “Stop encouraging violent behavior in my kids.”

“Hey, Valley Girl’s all yours. Her violent behavior has nothing to do with me!” Tony pointed out.

“Harley taught her and you taught him,” she shot back.

“She’s got you there,” Harley chuckled.

“Traitor.”

“Boss, I would suggest turning on the news,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced.

“News?” Harley asked and Tony saw him move into the living room. “What station?”

“Any will work, Country-Bro. They’re all talking about it.”

That caught Tony’s attention. “Well, bring it up for me, Fri.”

His stomach sank as he watched.

“Mind your language,” Tori said distractedly when he let out a curse. “Oh, those poor people.”

“Cap’s going to freak,” Harley added as Barnes’ face appeared onscreen.

“Yeah, he is,” Tony agreed, running a hand over his face. “Guys, I’m going to have to call you back later.”

Tori gave him a look over Harley’s shoulder. “Don’t go getting yourself in trouble for him, Tony. He ain’t worth it. He’s caused enough trouble as is.”

“Don’t worry, just got to call Ross and Rhodey. Hopefully, we can get a handle on this before Rogers does something stupid.”

They couldn’t.

By the time Rhodey and the CIA were able to move in and Tony convinced them not to just kill Barnes, Rogers had already picked a fight with German Special Forces alongside Wilson, Barnes, and -- surprisingly -- the Prince of Wakanda.

Once he got the news, he immediately sent Vision a message telling him that he and Maximoff needed to stay at the mansion. The last thing they needed was one of their haters causing a scene that could quickly escalate given the girl’s temper or could result in her visa coming into question.

Then he climbed into a Quinjet and set off for Berlin.

When Rogers reached them, Tony and Romanoff were set up in a room to wait, so they got to watch them get brought in through the security feeds.

“What’s going to happen to him?” was, of course, the first thing out of Rogers’ mouth when he approached Ross and his lackey.

“Same thing that ought to happen to you,” Ross stated. “Psychological evaluation and extradition.”

“This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander,” the lackey said.

“We’ve met,” Rogers said, nodding to her before refocusing on Ross. “What about a lawyer?”

Ross chuckled. “Lawyer, that’s funny.” He turned to the lackey. “See that their weapons are placed in lockup.”

Romanoff stood up and Tony closed the feed. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Good luck,” Tony hummed as he decided to finally let Ross the Lesser off hold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is Pepper or Nebula here? I didn’t see them?”

Tony stared blankly at the attempt to change the topic. “Pep’s in Romania helping Rhodey clean up your mess and Nebula has a life. I did too, you know. A few years ago, I almost lost the love of my life so I trashed all my suits. Then we had to mop up after you and HYDRA, and then there was V.I.R.G.I.L. It just never stops, and I’m starting to think you don’t want it to. You’re just like the old man.”

“I knew Howard, he was a -”

“Oh really?” Tony stood up and went to the chair he left his jacket in. As he fixed himself and put it on, he said, “You two knew each other? He never mentioned that. Maybe only a thousand times.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m getting you a bodyguard.”

“Nebula -”

“No, we should have done this the moment Uncle Happy was promoted.”

“I’m Iron Man. I can take care of myself.”

“Your black eye says different.”

“It’s not a black eye, and no normal bodyguard could have helped against Barnes.”

“Maybe I’ll recruit someone from your little next-gen lineup then.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’ll set the new guy up with an interview as soon as we bring in Rogers’ little gang.”

“New guy? You’re going to contact one of them to help?”

“Romanoff seems to think we’re understaffed.”

“She’s got a point. Who are you thinking?”

“Someone with just the right skills to pin those three with minimal property damage.” Tony pushed Nebula’s video chat to the side and brought up the Reborn Algorithm. “Fri, give me what we’ve got on Queens.”

Files filled the screen; videos and pictures of the enhanced alongside plans for a suit Tony had designed to replace their onesie, just in case.

“Queens? You mean that spider-guy that’s been flying around recently?”

“We’re looking at super strength, speed, and flexibility, and the tensile strength of that webbing they use is off the charts. It should be able to hold the super bros.”

“Who are they?”

Tony shrugged. The algorithm kept any personal details it discovered under lock and key. He wasn’t about to pry unless he had to. “Let’s find out. Fri?”

There was a moment of silence where no new files opened.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“It appears the personal file has been wiped clean. There’s nothing there.”

“Wiped clean? By who?”

“Well, evidence would suggest… There aren’t any signs of outside tampering and the only ones with access to the files are myself and…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was a good day.

He didn’t miss his train, he nailed his Algebra test despite not getting a chance to study because of a bank robbery the night before, and Flash was less of a jerk than normal. Everything had been great.

Then Peter got home and saw his dad and Nebs standing in the living area looking angry.

“Hey Dad, you’re back in town! That’s great!” He looked between the two. “Um, what’s going on? Nebs, shouldn’t you still be at work?”

“Sit,” Dad said, pointing at the couch. “We need to talk.”

Peter hung up his backpack and shuffled over. “Talk about wh-”

He cut off when he spotted his suit laying on the coffee table.

“Sit.”

Peter obeyed immediately. “Dad, I can explain!”

“Oh, you can explain?” Dad sat down in front of him on the coffee table. “You can explain why you’ve been sneaking out and hiding things from me and your sister? You can explain endangering your life? You can explain dragging your brother into this mess? This I’ve got to hear.”

Peter flinched and ducked his head. “Jay told you?”

“I forced it out of him, and that’s part of the problem. He should have told me at the very begging. Better yet, he shouldn’t have had to. You should have told me.”

Peter’s hand came up to fidget with the zipper on his jacket. “I know, I just… If I told you, you would have freaked out, and then I would have freaked out, and -”

“You’re right, I would have freaked out, but not as much as I’m freaking out now!”

“I had everything under control!”

“You most definitely did not have everything under control! You are fourteen and you were picking fights with criminals!”

He held out his arms. “I’m fine! Nothing happened! Jay would have told you if something happened! That was our deal!”

Dad threw his own arms up in the air and started to pace. “And what would have happened if something did happen, but it was too late for Jay to call for help?”

“I’m not doing anything big!” Peter said, and yep, they were both freaking out. He knew this would happen.

“You shouldn’t be doing anything at all! Again, you’re fourteen! When I was your age -- Okay, you definitely shouldn’t be doing what I was doing at your age, but you shouldn’t be running around in a onesie either!”

“It’s not a onesie,” Peter huffed. He and Jay put a lot of work into his suit. It was no Iron Man armor, but he was proud of it. “And I have to do something! I… The things that I can do… If I don’t use them, and something bad happens, then that’s on me.”

Dad’s mouth gaped open and closed, then he pinched his nose. “Of all the things you could have inherited,” he said softly before moving over to sit next to Peter. “Kid, no. That’s not on you. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. Especially if it would put you in danger. It’s good that you want to help people, but you need to be safe about it. And before you say something, either of you,” he added, pointing at Nebs. “I’m a dad. Do as I say and all that.” He focused back on Peter. “Piccino, I am proud of you, but this isn’t what you should be spending your teenage years doing. You should be going out to watch your geek movies with Ted -”

“Ned,” Peter muttered. “You know it’s Ned.”

“- or going to parties or drooling over crushes or… whatever else it is teenage boys do. Sports?”

“I have asthma.”

“Not anymore.”

“But I did, so I can’t now. Everyone would know something was up.”

“That doesn’t stop you from not wearing your glasses,” Dad snorted, tapping him between the eyes.

Peter blushed and swatted his hand away. “No one really notices. And if they do, I just say I got contacts. Besides, I do wear glasses at school most of the time. Jay and I made some that have lenses that shift to help me not get overstimulated.”

Dad’s eyes lit up. “Those weren’t in the files Jay showed me. What else did you -”

Nebs cleared her throat.”

“Right, no, I’m mad.” Dad’s face went serious again. “We’ll talk about that later.”

Nebs shook her head. “Your grounded,” she said.

“Yeah, I figured,” Peter sighed. He bit his lip and stared at his suit. “What about Spider-Man?”

“Spider-Boy is grounded too,” Dad said.

“Spider-MAN, and you’re not going to take the suit away?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Oh, I’m definitely taking it away. You and Jay did a good job, but there are quite a few updates that need to be made. They’re basically pajamas right now.” Nebs cleared her throat again. “But we’re going to have a very long talk about safety and hiding things and turning your siblings against me on top of the grounding before you even get to think about going out to the city in costume again.”

Peter threw his arms around his dad. “Thank you!”

“Yep, I’m the best dad ever. Also, I know you. You’re too much like me. Working with you to put up some restrictions is way easier than trying to stop you flat out. Pepper taught me that.”

Peter gave him another squeeze before pulling back. “So, why were you bothering Jay about me in the first place?”

Dad groaned and stood up. “I’ll tell you on the plane, I still need to get some things together. Pack your bags, we’re going to Germany.”

“What?” Nebs hissed. “You’re still going to bring him?”

Dad waved Peter towards his bedroom. “Unfortunately, he’s still our best bet. He’s not going to fight -- never wanted him to even before I realized he was a fourteen-year-old, let alone my fourteen-year-old. He’ll keep his distance and web them up. And who knows, hopefully it won’t even turn into a fight.”

“Web who up?” Peter asked as he backed away towards his door. He stopped, eyes widening and bouncing in place. “Wait, is this an Avengers mission? Am I going to be an Avenger?”

“No,” Nebs and Dad said at once and Peter deflated.

“Then what’s going on?”

“On the plane. Pack. We don’t have much time left.”

Peter nodded and slipped into his room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s Dad?” Peter asked, leaning over the front seat to talk to Uncle Happy.

“Seatbelt,” was all his uncle said.

“Father is still at the tower,” Nebs explained, typing on her tablet. “He’ll meet us in Germany.”

“I thought he was going to explain on the plane.”

“He will. Now hush, I need to get this done for work.”

Peter sighed and nudged Uncle Happy. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He pushed him back. “Seatbelt.”

“But -” Peter cut off with a huff when his uncle hit the button to roll up the divider. He dropped back into his seat, putting on his seatbelt. He then pulled out his phone and texted Harley.

Me: Do YOU know what’s going on in Germany

No, I’m Texas!: You mean with cap

Me: What about cap

No, I’m Texas!: Where’ve you been

No, I’m Texas!: Caps gone rogue!!!!!

No, I’m Texas!: He trashed a freeway or something in Romania then escaped from the cia in berlin and is on the run with bird boy and buck boy

Me: They found the winter soldier

No, I’m Texas!: Duh!!!!

No, I’m Texas!: Seriously where have you been

Me: Some of us actually pay attention at school

No, I’m Texas!:

Me: Ok I got distracted working on this new idea

Me: I can see you typing shut up!!!

No, I’m Texas!: Your such a nerd

No, I’m Texas!: Make me ring!!!!

No, I’m Texas!: Runt

Me: RING

Me: RING

Me: RING

No, I’m Texas!: Shut up loser

No, I’m Texas!: Why are you asking about Germany anyways

Peter thought about what his dad had said and what Harley had told him.

Me: I think dads going to fight cap

Me: And I think I’m coming with him

No, I’m Texas!: Sweet!!!!

No, I’m Texas!: Can you ask him if I can come too

No, I’m Texas!: Wait

No, I’m Texas!: Who is he bringing you

No, I’m Texas!: Why!!! DONT YOU EVEN START!!!!!

Me: Sure thing mr owl

No, I’m Texas!: Just shut up and tell me why he’s being you

Me: Spider-Man vs Thugs Youtube

Me: Me

He waited for a response.

He waited some more.

He was just about to send another text when his phone rang and he saw it was Harley calling.

“Hello?”

“Peter, what the f-”

“Harley Nathaniel Richards!” Peter heard Aunt Tori snap.

“Sorry, mom!” Harley called out. “Petrie, tell me your kidding!”

“Nope.”

He heard a door shut before Harley whispered, “Since when did Dad let you have a super-suit!? I want a super-suit!”

“Dad didn’t exactly let me have it,” Peter chuckled and Nebula looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Who are you on the phone with?” Nebula asked, grabbing the phone and turning it on speaker.

“Hey!”

“Did you build a super-suit without Dad knowing!? Why didn’t I think of that!?”

“Don’t even try it, Harley,” Nebula growled.

Harley groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me she was on the line too?”

“She just grabbed my phone.”

“If Peter gets to be a superhero so do I!” Harley announced.

“Grow some superpowers, then you can ask Father,” Nebula said.

“Wait! You’ve got superpowers? I thought that was just the suit!”

“Nope.”

“So that web stuff -”

Peter blushed. “No, th-that’s the suit. But I’m strong and sticky and -”

“Sticky,” Harley laughed.

“Shut up!” Peter huffed. “I can stick to stuff.”

His brother just kept laughing. “Sticky-Boy strikes again!”

When Nebs’ lips twitched up, he sent her a glare and grabbed the phone to hang up on Harley. “You guys are jerks.”

Nebula just went back to her work.

His phone chirped and he looked down to see he got a text.

No, I’m Texas!: Are you going to fight cap?

No, I’m Texas!: Punch him in the face!!

No, I’m Texas!: And record it!!

No, I’m Texas!: Peter?

No, I’m Texas!: I know you’re seeing these!! Stop being a baby!

No, I’m Texas!: I won’t call you sticky-boy again if you record it

Me: Fine 😠

No, I’m Texas!: 😀

Me: 😠

[mystech-master]

So u know how a while ago I said I’d post a WIP I had, involving a Blazblue AU where Ragna lives, no one (expect Terumi) dies, and it’s just Ragna chilling with people?

Here it is:

I haven’t touched it in months and it may be flawed, but hey.

Behold

Happily Ever After AU Oneshots: Kokonoe

You'd think that after defeating Terumi, stopping the apocalypse, and ending the time loops which had been ruining the world, the man known as Ragna the Bloodedge would be able to kick back and relax a bit.

               "YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

               That is a complete and total lie.

               At the moment, the Grim Reaper is sitting on a large red couch in Kokonoe's own private quarters, mostly used for her own recreational use during her breaks and off days, clutching a game controller and furiously button mashing with the most pissed off expression he'd had in months. Teeth clenched and eyes glaring at the screen in front of him, trying his hardest, and failing, to not suck at the fighting game Kokonoe invited him over to play.

               Speaking of the pink haired cat girl, she was also there, sitting on the other end of the couch with her feet propped up on a coffee table in-between the couch and TV, and the smuggest expression on her face as she expertly executed combo after combo on her guest. "S'matter Raggy, finished already?" she said with every bit of snark she could muster as she took a side glance to him.

               "Shut the hell up Kokonoe, you're gonna  get what's coming." the reaper growled through clenched teeth, as he furiously hammered away at the controller. “I’m feeling good about this one.” he sighed, partially calming down, or at the very least attempting to.

“You said that 10 rounds ago.” she said as she nonchalantly continued her reign against her guest.

“Rrrrrrr, quiet! I got it this time!” he yelled. At this moment, he had gone through almost the entire roster of playable characters and Kokonoe had kicked his ass every time. The reaper’s temper had skyrocketed various times that day, resulting in quite a few controllers being snapped in half. Luckily the scientist of Sector Seven had plenty of extra controllers, having predicted “Ragna being a total sore loser”. “You’d think that after fighting a world controlling organization, the Mad Dog, and even GODS I’d be able to not suck at a stupid game.” he sighed, trying to calm his nerves as to have a better chance at beating her.

Kokonoe simply shrugged her shoulders, “Hey, if it makes ya feel any better, I just have a crap load more experience with this game. You on the other hand, are just a noob.” she said as she continued her endless combo chain against him.

Ragna responds to Kokonoe’s strategy with the same technique that had worked so well the last time: button mashing and trying to find that ONE combo that’ll knock her down a peg. “Come on, come on, COME ON!” he starts screaming at the screen. “Can you just NOT SUCK for once!”

“You yelling at the game or yourself?” Kokonoe chuckled “aaaaand, get rekt Bloodedge.” she said as she executed her final attack, demolishing Ragna yet another time.

“Player 1 PERFECT, Player 2 YOU SUCK!”

And what wasn’t helping was Kokonoe had edited the game’s software to add even more insult to injury to the Grim Reaper. Knowing that he would lose to her various times.

The professor simply raised her arms behind her head “Well Ragna I believe that is about 35 to nothing. Still wanna give it a go?” she replied, taking an almost sadistic pleasure in seeing him rage. ‘I’m starting to see why Rachel likes this so much’ she thought to herself.

Ragna turned to his “gracious” host and glared. “I swear, you’ve gotta be cheating or something.” he growled.

“Nope, just skill” she reached over to grab some chips she had on a side table next to the couch. “Ya know, you could always try Stylish Mode, you can button mash away and get some good combos. Who knows, maybe you'll get lucky” she mentioned to her guest as she munched on a handful of

Ragna selected rematch once more “I don't need luck, and I don't need handouts. I’ll kick your ass fair and square.” The reaper declared.

Kokonoe smirked “Choosing to learn the hard way, eh?” She taunted “Too bad.”

Ragna smirked “Oh just you wait, I’ll wipe that smirk off your face.” he selected his character, as does the host.

“READY……...FIGHT!”

As soon as the match began it seemed to play out like all the others: with The Grim Reaper button mashing like there’s no tomorrow, while the half-beastkin scientist expertly maneuvered her character with far more expertise.

Ragna’s rage has starting to seep through as his face continued to develop an increasing shade of red. He continued to mash away hoping that he could just get in that ONE move that’ll knock Kokonoe out of her increasing combo chain. He’d give anything just to even get a single hit in and knock that smug cat-like expression (A/N: you know, the sideways 3 face) off of her face.

And then, against all odds, one good combo was finally made. Kokonoe’s health bar dropped, not by much, but it was still something.

Ragna’s eyes widened at the sudden success, ‘YES! IN YOUR FACE PINKY! YOU’RE GOING..’ before the Grim Reaper could finish this thought, his host executed her instant kill move just to smack him right back down.

“Player 1 PERFECT , Player 2 YOU SUCK!”

Ragna’s eye twitched and gritted his teeth, meanwhile clutching his controller with enough force to almost crack it. Kokonoe laughed with mischievous glee, enough that she’d almost make Terumi seem nice.

“What is it they always say? Not counting something before they hatch.” she grinned at her guest as she set her controller down in her lap and put her hands behind her head as she leaned back on the couch.

*CRACK*

Echoing through the room, came the sound of Ragna snapping another controller in half. Now holding both halves of the controller while grumbling under his breath. “Stupidcatbitch, thinksshe’ssocoolbecauseshecanpressbuttons. Itisn’tTHATmuchofaskill.”

Kokonoe took her feet off the table, placed her controller to the side, and stood up, “You seriously need to learn to be a more graceful loser.” she sighed. She walked over to a drawer on a nearby desk and opened it, revealing a large collection of controllers, all the exact same design as the same one that Ragna had just busted.

Ragna dropped both halves of the controller on the floor and leaned back on the couch. “Sorry.” he grumbled, still mad at his many, many loses “But seriously, do you really have to be so full of yourself when you do this?”

Kokonoe walked over to the game system and connected the new controller. “It’s just a video game Ragna. You know, for fun. It’s not like it’s some big life skill you need.”

“Yeah well then why do you act like you just conquered the world after each round?” he glared at the scientist.

“Just because it isn’t necessary doesn’t mean it isn’t fun.”

“I guess I don’t have much of an argument for that” the red and black clad Reaper sighed, “Can we take a break, my fingers are getting tired.”

Kokonoe placed her hands on her hips, “You do know that’s mostly your fault for all that mashing”

“Shut it.”

Kokonoe simply chuckled at his mellowed out rage and walked over to her end table. She grabbed the bag of chips that she had been snacking on and placed it on the couch between her and her guest. The scientist then plopped right down on the other side of the bag, grabbing the remote to mute the TV so the game’s background music wouldn’t bother them during their intermission.

“Well the good thing about your hand hurting is that both your arms are still in working order.” she said to the Reaper as she grabbed some chips. “They both doing’ ya good?”

Ragna chuckled a bit “Yeah, they do their jobs.” He responded, grabbing a few himself

After the Ragna reset the world for the final time and sent the Master Unit back into the Boundary, all that was left was to remove his Azure Grimoire to ensure that he would never become the Black Beast and destroy all that he had just fought so hard to save. With the help of Tsubaki, the current wilder of the Nox Nyctores Okami, of all people, the cursed Grimoire which had been his greatest weapon and his greatest bane had finally been separated. Of course Kokonoe immediately managed to fit him with another artificial arm to match the left one he lost (A/N: Confused? I’ll explain later).

“Good, because I’m getting sick of having to make arms for you.” she nudged him with her elbow, before munching on the chips she had grabbed. “But seriously, what is it with you and losing limbs? I mean what’s next, are you going to lose a leg?” she said with her mouth full of chips.

“Heh, you tell me. I never asked for that much rotten luck.” he replied. “Anyways, what about you? I heard you and that doctor lady have patched up.”

“Yeah, we’ve been keeping in touch” she sighed. “After this whole mess was over, we decided to try and work things out. She’s asking me to help out with the situation with the Kaka Clan actually.”

This peaked Ragna’s interest. “Oh really? You having any luck?”

“Not really, Whatever dumbass made the Kakas back during the Dark War was clearly not thinking when he went into this.” Kokonoe sneered “Their genes are so messed up it isn’t even funny.”

Ragna simply shrugged “Don’t worry about it, you’re literally the smartest person on the planet. I don’t see how you can’t do it.”

Kokonoe looked at her guest in mild surprise. “I’m sorry, did you just compliment someone?” She faked shock.

Ragna simply sighed in exasperation. “Can it! I’ve been trying to be nicer ever since I got my life back.”

(END, that’s all I got up to so far)

Lemme know what you guys think so far

[orbemnews]

The Maker of the Aeron Chair Grapples with Politics and the Pandemic When Andi Owen took over the furnishings firm Herman Miller, in 2018, she didn’t anticipate to get caught up in politics. However today, it appears no chief government is protected from the tradition wars. Over the past 12 months, Ms. Owen, a former government on the Hole, has needed to mollify a piece pressure shaken by the identical polarizing forces straining the nation. On her manufacturing facility flooring within the battleground state of Michigan, wardrobe selections — from Make America Nice Once more hats to Black Lives Matter T-shirts — have provoked arguments amongst workers. In response, Ms. Owen has tried to carry collectively an organization already examined by the pandemic and slumping gross sales. “We’ve tried to create alternatives for individuals to have frank conversations, for them to get collectively and focus on the arduous subjects of the day,” she mentioned. “I don’t assume these are new issues. However whether or not it’s about race, or inclusiveness, or whether or not it’s about what’s occurring on the earth at the moment, these are all issues you must discuss.” On the identical time, Ms. Owen has been steering Herman Miller by way of a pandemic that closed places of work worldwide — an existential menace to an organization that makes workplace furnishings and owns Design Inside Attain, an upscale retailer. Ms. Owen went to Interlochen Arts Academy, a Michigan boarding college targeted on the humanities. It was there that she first discovered about Herman Miller, which produces iconic items by well-known midcentury designers equivalent to Isamu Noguchi and Charles and Ray Eames, and fashionable workplace staples just like the Aeron chair. Ms. Owen then studied artwork historical past on the Faculty of William and Mary, and began working in retail. A job at The Hole led to a sequence of senior roles on the retailer, culminating in her management of the Banana Republic model, earlier than she moved to Herman Miller. This interview was condensed and edited for readability. Did getting a liberal arts diploma have an effect in your profession? It’s helped me in a variety of methods. I discovered loads about individuals. I discovered loads about historical past. I discovered loads about remark. I’ve all the time approached any job I’ve ever had as a generalist and an observer of human nature. Some individuals would say I’m not good at anybody factor. I’m kind of OK at a variety of issues. And that’s OK. I’ve surrounded myself with individuals which might be loads smarter than me. However I’ve just a little little bit of a broader standpoint, and an expertise that doesn’t essentially pigeonhole me into pondering one factor or one other. I had a mother who was an educator and a dad who is that this free spirit musician. And all my mother ever mentioned to me was, “While you go to high school, be taught what you’re keen on. You’ll have loads of time for a profession and it received’t matter anyway.” So I actually did spend time doing what I liked, and I feel it’s been a bonus. In contrast to a variety of C.E.O.s, you by no means bought an M.B.A. I really utilized and bought accepted. I used to be in my late 30s, and as I used to be speaking to a girl in admissions and he or she mentioned, “It’s nice. We don’t have that many middle-aged ladies which might be serious about these applications as a result of they’re all having households.” And I used to be like, “Not me. I’m good.” After which in fact I bought pregnant and didn’t go. You get to a sure level in your profession the place getting a normal M.B.A. is just a little little bit of a waste of time, since you’ve discovered an excessive amount of alongside the way in which. However I went again and bought an government M.B.A. at Harvard, which form of stuffed within the gaps. The Hole has clearly had its ups and downs. What did the corporate get proper, and what did it get unsuitable over time? Enterprise & Economic system Up to date  Jan. 22, 2021, 7:23 p.m. ET I used to be lucky sufficient to be there for the actually, actually good years, when the inventory was splitting yearly. And I used to be there to observe the decline. The Hole was at its finest again within the day when the trusted editor was vital, once you performed a job serving to individuals perceive what they wanted. We had a variety of success early on. However once you’re tremendous profitable and also you don’t change, you get afraid. That skill to take dangers — to consider how the corporate may very well be completely different, to reinvent your self from the within — it turned unattainable. And a variety of nice individuals bought fed into the wooden chipper making an attempt to deliver The Hole again. When the digital revolution hit I went into the web a part of our enterprise. And I bear in mind certainly one of my bosses telling me, “Nobody will ever purchase garments on-line. That is going to be the largest mistake of your profession. What are you doing?” That actually was the way in which individuals had been pondering again then. We simply didn’t change quick sufficient. And we had been actually out of contact with the client. While you depend on a playbook that was profitable previously, and also you don’t perceive the place your buyer goes, it’s a prescription for catastrophe. How did your time at The Hole form your excited about what you do at Herman Miller? I interviewed a man who turned my head of digital. He had labored in retail, and he mentioned, “Have you learnt what excites me most about coming to this trade? I really feel like I’m going from making landfill to creating heirlooms.” I really feel equally. These are merchandise that you simply hope you’re going handy down. With a number of the Banana Republic cashmere sweaters I made, I hope anyone arms these down. However I do know the hundreds of thousands and hundreds of thousands of T-shirts we made most likely aren’t getting handed down. What occurred when the pandemic hit, and the way did you discover your method out of it? We’d by no means closed down our vegetation earlier than, and there we had been hastily. We shut down all of our vegetation in 12 hours, and day-after-day was a brand new lesson in disaster administration. There have been nights when I’ve sat down on the finish of the day and shed just a few tears due to it. The human toll from this pandemic has been not simply the demise toll, however individuals’s lives and jobs, complete industries worn out. We capped out at 400 layoffs and individuals who opted out [about 5 percent of the work force], and we’ve executed our greatest to maintain that quantity the place it’s. However we’ve additionally designed a brand new product in instances that we by no means thought we may. So it’s been an actual steadiness of, “Hey, proper now could be actually crappy,” and, “We’re going to get by way of it.” Your core enterprise has held up surprisingly effectively throughout the pandemic. Who’s shopping for a lot workplace furnishings proper now? Our worldwide enterprise is powerful. The components of the world which have gotten out of the pandemic — sure components of Asia, New Zealand — they’ve moved on. Now the largest questions that C.E.O.s and folks which might be planning area have are: “Hey, what does the distributed work pressure seem like? What does my new workplace must seem like?” It definitely can’t be what it was. Folks don’t need workers to return again to what it was. At first it was, “How do I make it protected? How do I put boundaries in all places?” Now the dialog has advanced to, “How do I make it a compelling setting?” What are a number of the solutions to that query? It’s a fascinating selection. Monetary firms are like, “We’re coming again to precisely what it was. We’re not going to vary a lot of something.” After which a number of the tech firms in Silicon Valley are like, “Who wants an workplace ever once more?” I’m unsure both a kind of are essentially the reply. Alongside that continuum, most individuals are touchdown in a spot of, “Gosh, what do individuals miss?” So whether or not that’s innovation, creativity or collaboration, how do you create environments the place individuals can have these sorts of issues? Relying on the trade, I feel we’re going to see a complete lot of various options on this first 12 months or two. At Herman Miller, we’re taking all of our workplace environments and utilizing this time whereas we’ve individuals working remotely to fully renovate them. They’re our personal little check labs. Herman Miller isn’t an inherently political firm, so how do you cope with a second like this, when there’s a lot rancor, together with amongst your personal workers? We now have bought to unify, we’ve bought to speak. We now have to have respect and kindness and we’ve to hear. What occurred on the Capitol was not OK. Alternatively, I’ve to guarantee that we’re listening to at least one one other, and are looking for commonality. Typically I yearn for the times after I was again in Berkeley, Calif., and I may stroll down the road and all people thought the identical method. However you recognize, all people is in Michigan. So you must make the oldsters on the proper really feel comfy, and you must make the oldsters on the left really feel comfy. That’s a problem as we get increasingly more divisive as a society. Typically you must comply with disagree since you’re to date aside. However for us, it’s been about encouraging respect and inspiring kindness. Supply hyperlink #Aeron #chair #grapples #maker #Pandemic #Politics