#everyone in America should be afraid

[actual-corpse]

Working a clopening shift should get your employer beheaded in the town square.

[ameliafuckinjones]

If I said half the things I wanted to say about Canada and Americas relationship as siblings and neighbors, how they're ACTUALLY viewed by the world when it comes to international matters that are actually important (NATO, AUKUS, global economy, AI and tech companies, hegemony etc) and how it would be more interesting to explore aspects of their relationship as well as their relationship with the world that correlates with reality rather than this made up version that dominates the fandom... commie tumbler would hunt me down and kill me

[yokelfelonking]

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)

EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"

Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"

[azzishands]

Fan of a fan - Chapter five

Paige x Azzi

Word count: 11.8k

Warnings: sexual content

Author’s note: I just really want to stress that the characters in this story are NOT a reflection of the real people they are based off of. There’s gonna be mentions of family members from now on and I just wanna point out that I do not know these people, so just keep that in mind, that these are fictional characters that just share the same name as the real life people. With that being said, hope you like it!<3

Masterlist

—

Azzi was walking out of the airport with her bags in her hands, looking for a sign of the blonde woman who was gonna pick her up. 

Two weeks had gone by fast. Azzi had been busy with shooting and Paige with ending the North America tour. They had started to exchange a few messages during the two weeks, which then led to a couple of phone calls, which in turn led to multiple facetimes. It just came naturally to them. 

It started with Paige sending Azzi a photo of the band watching Ricochet, telling her that she had convinced them to watch it. And then Azzi called her, wanting to see what exact dates she should set aside in her schedule for Minnesota. And eventually, Paige facetimed Azzi a random night after a concert, just talking about everything and nothing. And after that, it had become some sort of routine to talk or facetime every day.

Paige had quickly learned during the last two weeks that Azzi Fudd was a very calm person in general, but way more goofy than she would first imagine. She would catch Azzi do random TikTok dances in the middle of their facetime sessions, or sing with a weird voice in another language. Her favorite moment was when Azzi was baking cookies one time on facetime, and she started to sing one of Paige’s songs out of nowhere, just belting it out, while she was taking the cookies out of the oven. Azzi had not even realized what she was doing until she saw Paige smiling like a fool on her phone. 

“Oh shit,” Azzi had slipped out, covering her mouth instinctively. 

“That sounded really good,” Paige had teased her. “You should follow us to Europe and be our background singer.”

“Shut up,” the actress blushed. 

Azzi on the other hand, had learned how extremely loving Paige is towards everyone around her. The way she treats her bandmates as not just her band and friends, but as her family. The way she treats her fans so respectfully. And the way she’s always trying to be the best version of herself, and always gets disappointed in herself when she feels like she could’ve done better. That’s another thing she had caught on to - the way Paige was afraid of doing anything wrong.

“It’s impossible to see every single one in a crowd,” Azzi tried to reassure Paige one time on a phone call after Paige had accidentally not high-fived a fan when the band had exited a restaurant. A fan had taken a video of it, pointing out how Paige had ignored the fan.

“But it really looks like I actively ignored her,” Paige sighed. “I should try and find her, see if I can fix some free tickets to a concert or something.”

“Paige,” Azzi had said so softly. “It was a high-five. I promise you the fan was just excited to see you all. If she’s really a fan of yours she knows that you would never purposefully ignore her high-five.”

“I guess so,” the singer had said. “Thank you.”

And now here they were, finally getting to see each other again. 

According to the text message Paige had sent earlier, Azzi should be looking for a white pickup truck. And it didn’t take long until she spotted one, along with the blonde waving at her. 

“Hey you,” Paige hugged the actress tightly. “How was the flight?”

Azzi greeted the blonde by melting into the familiar arms before Paige took Azzi’s bags and put them in the car. 

“It’s cold here,” the actress stated and turned up the heat in the car as Paige drove the car out of the airport’s parking lot. 

“I told you to bring a winter coat,” Paige chuckled while driving. 

“I know,” Azzi groaned. 

“It’s alright, I got an extra at home.”

At last, they arrived at Paige’s apartment in downtown Minneapolis. It was a very lowkey apartment building who you would never guess a rich famous singer would live in. The inside of the building on the other hand, was definitely something a rich famous singer would live in.

“Welcome to me,” Paige said and opened the door for her guest. “Want a tour?” 

The apartment consisted of three big bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, a living room, a small home movie theatre, an office and a cozy home studio. Azzi peeked in every corner of the apartment, trying to spot all the small things that made the place Paige’s. Like the photographs of her family in the bedroom, and the Grammy standing so proudly in the studio, and the little stuffed husky in the movie theatre. But her favorite thing she saw was the bookshelf in the office, which was filled with all kinds of books. There was something very intimate about walking through Paige’s place. Maybe because she’s a very private person to the public, which makes it a contrast to how Azzi was getting to know her, getting to see every little corner of her home. 

“Damn, this place is huge,” Azzi said as they finished the tour of the place.

“Yeah it’s spacious,” Paige nodded. “But I just felt like I wanted a place where my family could stay when they’re here. And it’s convenient when the band is here as well, to be able to be in one place, you know?”

“I thought your family lived here in Minnesota?”

“My dad and my stepmom and my little brother live here, but my mom and two younger siblings live in Montana,” the singer explained. 

“Oh I see,” the actress said. “Are you close with your siblings?”

“Yeah, I try to see them as much as I can, but me and my mom have a little more… strained relationship than me and my dad, so I see my little brother Drew, who lives here, a lot more than Ryan and Lauren. But I try to fly them out here often, and have a lot of sleepovers and stuff,” Paige explained further. 

“That’s cute,” the actress smiled warmly. “Are they much younger?”

“Yeah, they’re all almost teenagers,” Paige said. “But I still see them as my babies.”

“I get what you mean. I have two younger brothers who are in college now, but I still see them as the small kids who used to run around in the house playing tag all day,” Azzi said.

“You’re the oldest too?” Paige asked.

“I mean, yeah, but also no,” Azzi said and scratched the back of her head. “My dad is not my biological dad, but he’s the one who raised me and everything. I don’t have any contact with my biological dad, but I do have an older brother from him. We don’t talk that much but we’re cool. So yeah, I’m the oldest sibling in my house, but not, biologically or whatever.”

“Yeah, family is kinda complicated sometimes,” the singer said with a sigh. 

Azzi nodded and hummed in agreement. 

“Anyway, I was thinking that we were gonna cook something for lunch,” Paige said. 

“Cook? Do you know how to cook?” Azzi asked.

“Um, yes? I’m an excellent chef, thank you very much,” the singer stated with sass. “Do you not?”

“I consider myself much more of an eater than a cooker,” Azzi replied. “But I’ll watch you.”

“Nah, you’re gonna cook with me, you don’t have a choice miss Fudd,” Paige protested and grabbed her hand to drag her to the kitchen. 

Even though Azzi’s really not into cooking at all, she secretly loved the fact that Paige wanted them to cook something together, and she couldn’t wait to see Paige doing her thing in the kitchen.

“So, I was thinking we’re gonna do lasagna,” Paige brought her hands together as if she’s some kind of motivational speaker while Azzi sat by the kitchen island, looking at her amused. “Do you like that?”

“I love lasagna,” Azzi nodded. 

“Okay good, so you can start by chopping up some onion and garlic,” the singer instructed and took out a cutting board and a knife for the actress. 

“And what are you gonna do?” 

“I’m gonna watch and make sure you don’t hurt yourself,” Paige teased. 

In the end, Paige actually had to watch over Azzi when she was cutting the onions, because she did not have the right technique at all.

“Oh my God, have you never done this before?” Paige almost shouted at the actress as she walked over to her and put the knife down. “You’re a danger to yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad,” Azzi argued. 

“You literally are. Here,” the blonde took a step towards the actress and stood behind her, wrapping her arms around her body to put her hands gently on top of Azzi’s.

“Now let me guide you,” she said softly. Her head was resting on Azzi’s right shoulder, and it was really distracting for the actress to focus on cutting the onions when Paige’s face was that close to her own. 

“See?” the singer said as she guided Azzi’s hands with the right motions. “How much easier it is when you do it like this.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Azzi said, not having paid attention at all, just leaning into the feeling of the singer behind her, almost holding her. 

Paige could tell Azzi didn’t pay attention. So she put the knife down, still having her hands on top of Azzi’s, and just stood there for a few seconds. She let go of Azzi’s hands and instead wrapped her arms around the actress’ stomach softly and nuzzled her head into the actress’ neck. Being hugged from behind by Paige Bueckers was instantly one of Azzi’s favorite feelings.

Azzi relaxed into the singer’s body, leaning back with her head, turning it towards the blonde hair and inhaled the scent of Paige’s shampoo. 

“Fuck it, maybe we should just order something and then take a nap,” Paige murmured into Azzi’s skin, giving her goosebumps from feeling the singer’s breath on her neck.

“Hmm, that sounds great, but I don’t want to ruin your plans,” Azzi said. “Besides, now I really want to eat lasagna.”

“Are you sure?” Paige leaned back from the hug to look at Azzi, still with her arms wrapped around her.

“Yes,” Azzi smiled brightly. Their faces were so close that their noses were almost touching. Those piercing blue eyes always did something to Azzi. They’re completely irresistible. She’s certain that if Paige would ask her for anything and look at her like that with those eyes, Azzi would not be able to say no, ever.

Paige licked her lips out of habit, and Azzi’s eyes darted down. This time it’s Paige who leans in. She stopped just before their lips met and looked at the actress, then lightly pressed her lips onto Azzi’s. 

Azzi sighed contentedly into the gentle kiss. She carefully turned around and wrapped her own arms around Paige’s neck, as they kissed once again, this time more firm. Paige’s hands were on Azzi’s lower back, pulling her closer. The singer lightly swiped her tongue on the actress’ bottom lip, asking for entrance, and Azzi opened up her mouth to meet Paige’s tongue with her own. The butterflies were going wild in Azzi’s stomach at the sensation. She could easily make out with Paige for hours if she could. 

That’s why Azzi broke the kiss abruptly and way too quickly for Paige’s liking. “If we don’t stop now I don’t think we’ll ever finish the lasagna,” she breathed, resting her forehead against Paige’s. 

“We don’t have to,” Paige smirked.

“Paige,” Azzi rolled her eyes with a big grin and gently pushed the singer away. 

Paige just smiled and gave Azzi a quick peck on her cheek before she took the knife in her hand and started cutting the onions and garlic.

One hour later, the lasagna was in the oven. Paige had done most of the work, but Azzi had been right beside her, helping as much as she could without being a hazard to her environment. That included stirring the meat, placing the lasagna sheets when they layered it, and sprinkle mozzarella on top. Oh, and putting it in the oven of course. 

Now they were laying side by side in Paige’s bed, having to wait another forty minutes for it to be done. The plan was to take a nap while they were waiting, since Azzi was a little tired from the flight, but none of them closed their eyes. How could they, when they were right next to each other.

“You can sleep with your eyes open?” Paige joked, as she turned to lay on her side, facing the actress. 

Azzi turned to face Paige as well. 

“Guess I’m not that tired anymore,” Azzi said.

It’s only their knees that are touching, but Paige could feel it through her whole body. It seemed that the actress could never be close enough. 

“Tell me about your dreams,” Paige said. 

“My dreams?” 

“Yeah, in life.”

“I wanna win an academy award for best actress. I want to star in a series. And I know it’s a bit cringe maybe, but I want to be a part of a film remake of a classic,” Azzi mused out loud. 

“All of it sounds like valid dreams, and really doable ones too,” Paige smiled. “It’s just a matter of time, really.”

“I don’t know,” Azzi blushed shyly. “I’m trying not to stress about it, but I feel like I’m not that young anymore and the pressure is getting to me for every day that goes by in this industry.”

“You mean you’re not a teenager anymore,” Paige stated. 

“Yeah, exactly. The age of people who are breaking through in the industry is becoming younger and younger, and even if I’m only twenty-two, it feels like I’m a middle aged woman compared to these new sixteen-year-olds, judging by the media. And don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for being where I’m at and how I got here, and I know that my career doesn’t have to end just because I’m getting older, but it’s just that… feeling.”

“I get that,” Paige said. “I think it’s a bit different in the music industry, since we don’t have to be a certain age for a role, or have a certain look. But there’s definitely some kind of pressure to attain accomplishments as young as you can.”

“Right? Even though it really doesn’t matter, it's an underlying incitement in the whole industry that seeps through in how everyone treats you and looks at you. Everything feels so rushed,” the actress agreed. “But what about your dreams?”

Paige’s eyes wandered for a bit, thinking to herself what she’s gonna say.

“Hmm, I think my dream is to live a peaceful life, continuing to write songs, playing with the band, but not always being the center of attention I guess. And maybe start a family one day,” Paige said at last. 

“Oh wow, my dreams were really shallow compared to yours,” Azzi laughed. “Was it ever a dream to win a grammy?”

“Not really, I’m not that award oriented,” Paige told her. “But I’m super grateful for it, now that I have one, it’s something I’m really proud of. It’s like a statue for how strong our bond is in the band. At least that’s what it stands for for me.”

Azzi smiled brightly. “You’re so humble.”

Paige shrugged and tucked away a strand of hair that got in Azzi’s face behind her ear, her fingertips brushing against the actress’ cheek. Azzi shivered by the faint touch. 

“Do you judge me for wanting to win an Oscar?” Azzi asked honestly. 

“No, of course not,” Paige immediately answered. “Music is too subjective for me, one might like it, one might not, it depends on who sits in the jury after all. I guess it goes the same with movies, in a way, but not with acting. At least not in my opinion. It can be a really bad movie, but the acting can still be good. Acting is a skill, and there is good and bad acting.”

“I guess so,” Azzi mumbled. 

“I like that you’re ambitious,” the singer told her. “You’re a hard working woman with big dreams you’re not afraid to chase. There’s like nothing more attractive than that.” 

Azzi let out a puff of air, feeling her cheeks starting to heat up. 

“I can think of a few things more attractive than that,” she said as she looked into those blue eyes intently.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Paige whispered back.

“Like, being a humble superstar,” she said. “And, I don’t know, having… blue eyes. And blonde hair. And a really cute smile, with the biggest heart, and even bigger hands.” 

“Hands?” Paige laughed and looked at her hand in front of her, flipping it back and forth, inspecting it. “You’re into hands?”

“No, just yours,” Azzi said and put her hand on Paige’s. 

“Your hand is almost as big as mine,” Paige stated as they’re having palm against palm. 

In the blink of an eye, Azzi intertwined their fingers, rolled them over and straddled Paige while pressing her hand down onto the mattress, using her other hand to press down Paige’s other wrist.

“Oh,” Paige chuckled in the new position she’s suddenly found herself in. 

Azzi leaned down and kissed Paige on the lips. It's strange, how their bodies just seem to flow together as if they were one. As if they weren’t meant to be anywhere else but on each other. 

Paige got her hands free from Azzi’s and let them stroke her sides, earning a soft grunt from the woman on top of her. She let them go further down Azzi’s body, down to her hips and then on her butt. 

The actress just tried to keep holding herself up with her arms on either side of Paige’s head, but the feeling of her hands on her butt makes Azzi just wanna melt down and collapse.

Azzi moved her hands to Paige’s chest, gently palming her breasts. The singer groaned while her hips jerked up a little, which in return made Azzi let out a soft moan. She started to grind down on Paige, which resulted in Paige raising her hips a little bit, helping her movements with her hands.

They’re both panting into each other’s mouth while still dancing with their tongues. Paige moved her hands to Azzi’s back, running them up and down, then caressing her sides, making Azzi feel tingles all over her body. God, Azzi loved feeling Paige’s hands on her. 

The actress started to kiss down Paige’s neck, licking and biting everywhere on the space she’s given when Paige leaned back with her head. Azzi felt tempted to leave a mark, but decided against it and moved onto the collarbone, licking along it. Paige was writhing under her touch, and Azzi could hear low whimpers coming out of her mouth. 

Paige was going insane. The kisses on her neck, the licks along her collarbone, suddenly hearing Azzi moan in her ear? It’s all just too much for her to handle. She felt as if she could come undone right there and then. Her body was moving on its own by now, just reacting to whatever Azzi Fudd was doing to her.

And then Azzi moved her leg to settle it in between Paige’s, and suddenly there’s pressure on the one place that’s been aching. Paige arched her back from the surprise and slightly gasped. Azzi’s gasping too because when Paige arched her back, she bent her knees and suddenly Azzi was practically riding her thigh. 

The actress brought her mouth to Paige’s once again, and kissed her passionately. Their clothes were still fully on, but their hands were beneath the fabric of their shirts. Paige’s fingertips dragged along Azzi’s abs while Azzi’s fingertips were caressing Paige’s sides. 

Paige can feel something start to build in the pit of her stomach. Her boxers are absolutely soaking and the stimulation she’s feeling from Azzi’s thigh is unbelievable. But it’s Azzi’s kissing that’s getting her closer and closer. The way she’s kissing her with so much passion and need. 

The singer moved her hands down Azzi’s stomach to the hem of her pants and was just about to undo them, when the alarm for the lasagna set off. 

Azzi broke the kiss and collapsed on top of Paige, letting out a frustrated groan. 

“Oh my God,” she murmured.

Paige wrapped her arms around the relaxed Azzi, and she could feel her heartbeat beat as fast as her own against her ribcage. 

“I know,” Paige whispered, equally as frustrated. “Talk about bad timing.”

“I was close,” Azzi confessed in a whisper as she removed herself from the singer. 

Paige smiled like a fool hearing that, sitting up on the bed as well.

“I’ll take care of it later,” she said and rubbed the actress’ back as comfort. “I promise.”

“You better,” Azzi looked at Paige with a serious look, and Paige could only laugh. 

Something about them already felt so familiar and domestic, and she has a feeling the rest of the remaining time together will only develop their connection.

—

It was the second to last day together in Minnesota for the two women. Azzi had been there now for two days, having two more days to enjoy together. She would’ve wanted to stay longer with Paige, but it had required a lot of planning and detailed scheduling for her agent Caroline to arrange four whole days off. Azzi couldn’t possibly ask for more when Caroline had done everything and a little bit more to make it possible. 

Yet here she was, wanting to ask Caroline if she could just stay one more day in Minnesota. Of course she knew it would never work, but in a desperate attempt to prolong her visit, she sent a text. 

Azzi Fudd: There’s no way I can get one more day off, is there?

Caroline Ducharme: No honey, I don’t think there is. You have a movie to film.

Azzi Fudd: Figured. Just wanted to double check. Thank you Caroline<3

She put away her phone and looked over to the sleeping blonde right beside her. Azzi didn’t hesitate to scoot closer and put her arms around her. She loved being the big spoon just as much as being the little. 

The last two days had been simply amazing. Azzi hadn’t really known what to expect before she got there, but she hadn’t expected them to be so… coupley with each other so fast. It came naturally of course, but when she thought about it, it was almost strange how natural and easy everything had flown between them, considering the limited time they spent together prior. 

It was the way their fingers would brush against each other every time they were beside one another. Or the way they would look at each other like they didn’t need words to communicate. Or the way Paige would just kiss her out of nowhere, so innocently, so full of affection. Or the way Azzi would curl up next to Paige when they watched a movie, and play with her hair. It was the way everything was said and done with so apparent yearning for each other. As if they had waited long enough already to not care about being obvious with what they want.

She thoroughly enjoyed it. And the fact that it all was happening with the Paige Bueckers? Sometimes Azzi had the urge to pinch herself to see if it’s all just a dream, because it was really too good to be true. 

She was in awe of the way Paige carried herself, but also just the way she looked at the world. She was always humble, never took anything for granted and did everything with love and respect. Azzi looked up to the singer in so many different ways already. 

Paige started to stir in Azzi’s arms, and she turned around and lazily swung her arm around the actress’ waist.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispered, having the blonde’s head under her own.

“Morning,” the newly awake Paige mumbled back into Azzi’s chest. She nuzzled her head closer to the actress’ neck, wanting to be even closer. Azzi just held her tighter and gave her head a peck.

“What time is it?” the singer asked.

“It’s 9 am.”

“I could set camp right here for the rest of my life,” Paige mumbled sleepily. 

“I think you’re sleep talking now” Azzi stated amused. 

“I’ve never been more awake,” Paige replied back and sighed contentedly in Azzi’s arms. 

She loved the way Azzi held her. She loved that it felt so safe to be big, small, strong, weak, confident and insecure with the actress. In the past, she would often meet girls who only wanted her confident and dominant side, and even though she was all that, she’s not only that. With Azzi, it feels like all of her fits in. Nothing is too feminine or too masculine, Azzi just sees her as Paige, and that’s enough. Being herself felt so easy with Azzi.

“I’m not used to being held like this,” Paige confessed. “But I love it.”

“I can’t imagine that, you’re very holdable,” Azzi stroked the blonde hair and started to massage her scalp softly. “You’re just a baby.”

“I’m older than you, you’re the baby,” Paige protested. 

“Shh my baby,” Azzi cooed and just kept on stroking her hair as if she was comforting her. “Don’t start crying now.”

Paige would normally keep the bicker going, but not this time. Hearing Azzi call her her baby did something to her, even if it was play pretend. Feeling this way shouldn’t be possible when they’ve barely known each other for a month, but here she was, feeling big feelings for the actress already. Hearing that possessive pronoun made her heart flutter. 

The singer leaned away a little from Azzi’s embrace to look her in the eyes.

“I really appreciate you being here Azzi,” Paige said dead serious.

“I really appreciate being here,” Azzi answered. “With you.” 

“Kinda don’t want you to leave tomorrow,” the singer mumbled before nestling her head under Azzi’s head once more. 

“Me neither,” Azzi breathed, her heart beating fast at the way Paige had just looked at her, so full of affection, so full of admiration and… care. 

Yesterday had been a day full of adventures. Paige had been driving them around, showing Minneapolis. They had been shopping, going to a museum, eaten at a fancy restaurant at night, then gone to a movie theatre to catch some random movie. Every single second spent together the last 48 hours had been simply amazing. There was never a dull moment with the two together. Azzi felt like she could do laundry with Paige, and it would somehow be fun. Paige felt like she’s never experienced Minneapolis the way she had the last two days with Azzi. She had never realized how romantic the city really is. 

Paige’s favorite moment was when they were at the Minneapolis institute of art, and Azzi always dragged her to another painting or photography and said: “Look, look, this one’s really cool. I like the colors here. And this one! Oh my God, how do you even capture this? Kinda gives me the creeps but in a good way.” It was so cute how Azzi was so excited to show Paige all things she found beautiful. It made Paige feel special, like Azzi wanted to share all the beauty in this world with her, eagerly. 

Her reminiscing came to an abrupt end when her phone started to ring, and Azzi opened her arms to let her go so she could answer the phone.

“Morning kid,” her dad answered the phone.

“Hey Dad."

“I know you said you’re gonna be busy having company these four days, but Drew is really impatient and he wants to play some basketball with you like right now. How about you and your company come over tomorrow night and eat dinner with us?” he asked. 

“I don’t know…” Paige looked over at Azzi who was looking at her curiously. “Let me think about it and I’ll call you back.”

“Yes, think about it,” Bob, her dad, said. 

They hung up and Azzi rose from the bed and started to get dressed. 

“Your dad?” she asked while putting on some pants.

“Yeah, he um… he kinda invited us to eat dinner with them tomorrow night,” Paige scratched the back of her head. 

“Oh,” Azzi stopped what she was doing. “I mean, I don’t mind. Do you want to?”

“The question is, do you want to?” Paige chuckled. “It’s our last moment together before you gotta fly home, you wanna spend it with my family?”

“As long as you’re there, I don’t see why not,” Azzi smiled. 

Paige’s lips curved into a smile. “Really?”

“Really,” Azzi nodded. “It’ll be fun to meet Drew too.”

“He wanted to play basketball with me, that’s why we even got invited,” Paige scoffed. “Dummy.”

“You know, I played basketball in High school, and could’ve gone to college if I wanted to” Azzi said. “If he wants to play with a real hooper instead of… you.”

Paige let her jaw drop in disbelief. “Excuse me, I also played in High school and was close to being recruited, but then our band started to take off so I didn’t pursue that career.”

“Oh really?” Azzi challenged. “Did you also get to meet Steph Curry for being such a great three-point shooter?”

“Um, no?” Paige said with an attitude. “I was more of an unselfish player, letting my teammates shine.”

“You mean they carried you.”

“Nah what the hell is this,” Paige protested. “Tomorrow imma show you videos of me playing and then I dare you to say that again.”

“Or, we can just play against each other and settle it that way,” Azzi suggested. “That is, unless you know you can’t win against me and would rather have me watch a video.”

“Bruh, you’re on,” Paige said. “Get ready to be humbled tomorrow.”

“Likewise,” Azzi said with a smirk. 

The two women got dressed and hopped into the car to drive to a “place with a view”, as Paige had called it. They had packed two sandwiches for lunch and had put on warm clothes for some light hiking. Apparently Paige loved to be outside in nature. 

“This is like my favorite spot ever,” Paige said as they had parked the car somewhere near a forest and had started walking. 

It was still winter and a bit chilly in the air. Their boots left prints in the snow and Azzi could see steam from her breathing through her mouth as they walked. The sun was shining, and the snow on the ground was glittering all around them. It was truly beautiful.

“Wow, it’s so still out here,” Azzi said as they had walked up the hill to a more sparse part of the forest. They had walked so much upwards that they now could see the city from a distance, from above. It could’ve might as well have been a ski slope, the view, the snow, the altitude and the lack of trees around them. 

Paige sat down by a bench that was thoughtfully placed where you could see the view the best. Azzi joined right beside her.

“I love to hear the nature around me, like the birds or the wind. Or just the silence. God, I love hearing the silence,” Paige told Azzi while looking out over the view. “I used to come here a lot when I had fought with my mom growing up.”

Azzi looked at Paige with a sad smile. “What about now?”

Paige’s blue eyes met her brown ones with that, and gave her a small smile. “Not that often anymore. Now I go here to just wind down in nature, not necessarily to escape anything.”

“It really is a breathtaking view from here,” Azzi said, still looking right at Paige. The singer nodded slowly, holding the eye contact carefully, not wanting to break it. 

“You like being in nature?” Paige asked. 

“I do, although I’m not hiking or anything, but I love to be outside in general. My grandparents have a cabin near a lake, so we used to be out on the water, fishing or swimming, and it’d be the best time of summer really,” Azzi reminisced. 

“That sounds like the best kind of summer,” Paige said. 

“It was,” Azzi nodded with a smile. “But I don’t make that much time now to be out in nature, unfortunately.”

“It’s a bit hard to do that in LA perhaps,” Paige mused. “You like LA?”

“I do,” Azzi answered. “It’s convenient and Hollywood is where the industry’s at. But I wouldn’t mind spending a year or two somewhere else, like going to a foreign country and film a foreign movie.”

“What kind of country are you interested in? I can be on the lookout on the Europe tour for you,” Paige asked. 

“Somewhere with a totally different culture than here. And aesthetically pleasing views, or beautiful nature. With lots of history to it,” Azzi mused out loud. 

“That’s… a lot,” Paige laughed. “Not very specific. I think you would like most countries.” 

“I haven’t traveled a lot, because I’ve been working mostly, so I wouldn’t really know,” Azzi admitted. 

“You should come to one of our concerts on the tour,” Paige said. 

“You’re inviting me everywhere,” Azzi laughed. “I’m gonna get fired for neglecting my job.”

“Is that a yes?” Paige smirked. 

“No,” Azzi snorted. 

“Is it a no?”

“...No.”

“I’ll see you in Europe then,” Paige said with a grin, knowing that Azzi most definitely wanted to come see her on tour. 

Azzi just rolled her eyes with a smile, gently shoving Paige’s arm. 

They just sat like that, next to each other, looking out at the view for the next few hours. The conversation flowed effortlessly like always. 

The rest of the day was spent in Paige’s apartment. Azzi had to read through her script and have a meeting online, and while Azzi worked, Paige cooked dinner for them. 

“I could get used to this,” Azzi said as she entered the kitchen after having ended her meeting, and saw the homemade meal of pasta alfredo. It smelled incredible.

Paige raised her eyebrows with a smirk. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, getting spoiled like this,” she nodded and sat down at the table. “Having a private chef.”

Paige lit some candles and put on some chill jazz music in the background. 

“Romantic,” Azzi commented. 

“It’s our last dinner together, just us,” Paige shrugged and sat down across Azzi. “I wanted it to be special.”

And it was special. It was special in the sense that it felt like a date between a couple who had been together for years. The way they would share funny stories from their childhood with each other and laugh so loudly. But mostly it was the fact that there was no nervousness surrounding them. It felt safe. It felt familiar already.

Paige could see it. She could see them in the future, just like this, spending their days together like this one - Azzi rehearsing her script, having online meetings in one room, Paige being in the other doing her thing, cooking for them, to at last join together for dinner. It was a vision she was steadily desiring more and more. Just more of Azzi in general in everyday life. In the big and small things.

Azzi was secure in their newfound connection. She didn’t doubt for a moment that they were on the same page with each other. She found Paige very consistent with her words and actions towards her, she felt no need to talk about where they were headed or clarify what they were doing. She felt safe in the unknown with Paige. And it meant everything.

—

“You ready?” Paige asked as she buttoned the last of her white button up shirt. 

Their final day together had arrived, and the two women were getting ready for the Buecker’s family dinner. 

“Yeah,” Azzi replied, giving herself one last look in the mirror. 

“Wow,” Paige said as she turned around to see the actress. Azzi was wearing a long black bodycon dress that was hugging her figure tightly with an open back. She had her curly hair down with silver earrings, necklace and rings. 

“You look absolutely stunning,” Paige blinked, not believing what she was seeing. 

“You think?” Azzi smiled innocently and gave a little twirl for Paige to see the whole thing. “Is it too much for a family dinner?”

“No,” Paige answered immediately, not being able to tear her eyes away from the other woman. “You should definitely wear that.”

“You know, you don’t look so bad yourself,” Azzi said and walked up to the blonde, wrapping her arms around her neck. Paige’s hands instinctively landed on Azzi’s lower back, pulling her in.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. Kinda starting to regret us going somewhere where I can’t touch you like I want to,” Azzi whispered, her eyes hooded with mischief. 

Paige could feel her knees go weak with that. Azzi’s eyes were driving Paige mad, the way she was looking at her like she couldn’t wait to devour her. 

“Believe me, I’m gonna try and make it a short dinner,” Paige swallowed hard. 

Azzi just laughed and embraced the singer. “You know I packed my bag because I have to go straight to the airport afterwards.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Paige just said and hugged her tightly. 

The car ride to Paige’s dad’s house was unbearable for Azzi. The way Paige was gripping the steering wheel in a white button up shirt and a jacket stirred something inside of her. She was practically squirming in the passenger seat. All she could think about was unbuttoning it, and feeling Paige’s chain against her skin, amongst other things. 

“You okay?” Paige asked, concerned with how shifty Azzi was being next to her. 

“Uh-huh,” Azzi just said, trying to play it cool. 

“Why are you… squirming like that?” Paige raised her eyebrow, still with her eyes on the road, and to Azzi’s misfortune, her hands still on the steering wheel with her veins popping. “Are you cold?”

“No no, I’m just… nervous, I guess,” Azzi lied. 

“Don’t be,” Paige smiled and put her hand on Azzi’s thigh as a supporting gesture. But that was really the cherry on top for Azzi.

“Oh God,” she blurted out at the contact. 

This time Paige turned her head for a second at Azzi with both her eyebrows raised suggestively. She saw the look on the actress’ face and finally understood what was going on. She snorted quietly to herself, not letting her hand go off Azzi's thigh. 

“What’s the matter?” Paige asked, pretending to not notice how worked up the actress was. She started to rub her hand up and down Azzi’s thigh as a sign of comfort. 

Azzi was trying to calm herself and steady her breathing. If she was gonna survive the night she was gonna have to become composed. But how could she, when Paige was rubbing her thigh like that, driving like that, being dressed like that?

“You can’t- I mean, I-” Azzi stammered and put her hand on top of Paige’s to make her stop moving it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Paige said and withdrew her hand completely.

“No I-” Azzi stopped herself from saying anything.

Paige turned her head towards the younger one with a smug smile, revealing that she knew what was up. She placed her hand between them with her palm open, inviting Azzi to intertwine their fingers. 

“Is this better?” she asked. 

Azzi let out a breath and held her hand. “A little.”

Azzi was convinced Paige was one of the most precious human beings on this earth. Her gestures were always the cutest and pure. Azzi was sure that this woman right next to her could never hurt a fly. She was gentle, caring and loving in everything she did, she learned more and more everyday. The confident lead singer was still there, but it was really not the main characteristic like Azzi thought it would be in the beginning. 

Paige’s dad’s house really looked like any other house in the suburbs of Minneapolis, and Azzi was looking forward to meeting the people that raised the kind soul she had gotten to know. Paige parked the car in the driveway and the two women exited the car and entered the house.

“Paigey!” a young boy ran up to them and jumped up in Paige’s arms as soon as they walked in. 

“Hi Drew,” Paige held the boy who looked about eleven years old or something, Azzi couldn’t really tell. “Drew, get down, you gotta say hi to our company.”

Drew reluctantly let go of his big sister and looked at Azzi. 

“Oh wow,” he blurted out. “Hi.”

Azzi gently chuckled. “Hi Drew, I’m Azzi. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I know who you are,” the boy deadpanned. “You’re that actress that Paigey loves.”

“Bro,” Paige facepalmed herself while Azzi gave her a smug smile. 

“Thought I heard someone at the door,” a man walked into the hall with a big smile. 

“I’m Bob, and this here is my wife Cathy,” he introduced the woman next to him. 

“Hi, I’m Azzi, it’s so nice to meet you.” 

“It’s so nice to meet you too,” Cathy said. “Wow, you’re very beautiful, Azzi.”

Azzi gave a kind smile with a “thank you” and follows the family into the kitchen where everything is set up. Paige gently put her arm on her back, leading her to one of the chairs to sit down by the table.

“Dig in,” Bob said as they all sat down around the table. 

“So Azzi,” Cathy spoke. “Congratulations on your Golden Globe.”

“Thank you,” Azzi slightly blushed, not having expected them to know about the recent award. 

“I remember last year when you were nominated, and we were watching it here because Paige made us, as the movie fanatic she is, and she got so upset when you didn’t win,” Bob told her with a smile. “Said something about being robbed.”

“Oh?” Azzi looked over at the blonde with an amused grin. “That’s sweet. Although I do think Lily Gladstone truly was the worthy winner, so I didn’t feel robbed at all. But thank you.”

“Perhaps,” Paige said, a bit embarrassed about her dad revealing her enthusiasm about the actress a year prior. “But I’m happy they got it right this time.”

Azzi smiled at the singer, and Cathy and Bob exchanged a knowing look. 

“Azzi, who’s the most famous person you know?” Drew suddenly asked. 

“Dude,” Paige just chuckled. 

“I bet it’s someone more famous than all of Paige’s friends,” he continued. 

“Hmm… Maybe Zendaya or Emma Stone,” Azzi answered. “And Paige Bueckers of course.”

“Paigey isn’t even that famous,” Drew commented. 

Paige snorted with a frown. “I’m not trying to be.”

“You’re doing pretty well for someone who’s not trying,” Azzi said.

“I know,” Paige shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m a natural.” Azzi just playfully rolled her eyes at that, finding Paige’s confidence to be stupidly charming. 

“Well Paige has been talking about you for years Azzi, so I’m glad we finally get to meet her friend,” Cathy spoke. 

“I’m glad to meet you too,” Azzi said, smirking on the inside with the knowledge that Paige’s parents probably thought that they had been friends for years just judging by how much the singer has talked about her. Paige on the other hand felt exposed everytime a family member opened their mouth. 

The dinner moved on steadily after that. Bob and Cathy were inviting people who made an effort to get to know Azzi with natural ease. The actress felt like she could be herself around the family and even joke with them. Azzi could see how this environment had shaped Paige into being the kind soul she is. 

“Thank you so much for this dinner, it was delicious,” Azzi said as they had finished the meal. 

“No problem honey,” Cathy answered. “If you’re ever in town again, you’re always welcome here.” 

Paige looked at the younger woman and nodded happily. 

“Are we gonna play basketball now?” Drew asked impatiently. 

“Yeah, let me and Azzi change clothes first,” Paige said and grabbed Azzi’s hand to lead her somewhere else. 

“Oh wow, is this Paige Bueckers room?” Azzi said as she looked around the small room with posters of artists and basketball players on the walls. 

“Here,” Paige tossed a hoodie and some sweatpants to Azzi. “You can wear that.”

Azzi started to take off her dress, but not without seeing how Paige was just unashamedly staring at her as she did. 

“Seeing something you like?” she teased.

“Let me help you with that,” Paige just said and approached the actress. She pulled the dress up, lightly caressing Azzi’s thighs in the process. They stood face to face, looking deeply in each other’s eyes.

Azzi lifted her arms up as Paige removed the dress completely from her. 

“Oh my God,” the singer exhaled at the sight of Azzi wearing a black lace lingerie set. “You did this on purpose.” Paige tossed the dress somewhere in the room and put her hands on Azzi’s waist and pulled her in closer, and Azzi snaked her arms around Paige’s neck.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Azzi answered, before planting a soft kiss on Paige’s lips, barely touching. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Paige nodded and leant in again to give her a proper kiss. Azzi sighed into it, feeling Paige’s hands roam freely over her body. The way she caressed her sides, her butt, her stomach, her back - it drove Azzi crazy. She let out a soft groan into Paige’s mouth. 

“Paigey! Azzi! Are you done changing soon or what?” a very impatient little brother shouted from the other side of the door, and Paige broke the kiss with a sigh. 

“Relax, we’ll be out soon!” Paige just shouted back, her hands still on Azzi, not letting her go. “Now where were we?”

Azzi gently pushed her away with a chuckle. “Let’s not make him walk in on us.” 

Paige threw her head back with a groan, clearly not happy with the interruption, but knew that they had no choice but to stop there. Azzi put on the sweats Paige had given her and Paige put on some as well. 

It didn’t take long for Azzi to see that Paige was indeed a very good basketball player. She was just observing the two siblings going at it one-on-one for a while, not wanting to interrupt their sibling quality time, even though both Paige and Drew insisted on her playing with them. 

“No, you guys play first, I’ll just watch for a while,” she had said. 

“Hm, I know what you’re doing,” Paige had smirked in response. “You’re checking out the competition.” 

“What competition?” Azzi had challenged. 

And now Azzi realized, that was exactly what she was doing. 

Paige clearly didn’t play all out against her little brother, but Azzi could tell that she was fast enough and shifty with the ball to make it hard to guard her. Drew really had no chance against his big sister, but the few times he caught the ball, he was pretty good as well.

“Why don’t you let Drew start this time,” Azzi suggested after about twenty minutes of just Drew not being able to get the ball from Paige. 

“Nah, he’s gotta learn defense,” Paige just said. 

“Paigey!” Drew let out a frustrated shout after another failed attempt to steal the ball. 

“Come on little dude,” she just replied. “Take it.”

“I’m done,” he answered, all tired from having spent the majority of the time just running around chasing the ball. He walked straight into the house and didn’t look back.

“You’re a menace,” Azzi said. 

“Well that’s usually how our hoop sessions end,” Paige shrugged. “Besides, I wanted to have time to play with you too.” 

Azzi shook her head as if she couldn’t believe Paige’s ways of getting what she wanted. She stood up and approached the woman.

“Give me your best shot,” Paige said and threw the ball to her. 

And Azzi did. But it didn’t take long for Paige to read her plays, being able to steal the ball a couple times. Since Azzi had observed the older girl’s game for a while, she had an idea of how she would defend against her, but now actually playing against her, she realized how wrong she was. Paige was unpredictable. 

“10-10,” Paige said after they had played for a while. “You’re not that bad, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s a tie,” Azzi deadpanned. “You can’t say that I’m good or bad without calling yourself that.”

“Okay, first one to reach fifteen wins,” Paige decided. 

None of the women held back. They were playing as if their life depended on it. Paige had learnt early on in their game that Azzi was a killer at shooting, and did everything in her power to not give her any open space to shoot comfortably. That didn’t really help though, as Azzi was just as good at dribbling the ball past her, finishing with layup after layup. 

But Paige was not far behind, and in the end, her speed and ability to score pretty much from anywhere paid off. 

“15-13. What can I say, still undefeated,” Paige smirked at Azzi who was breathing heavily. “Do I get a prize?”

“Hell no,” Azzi snorted. 

“I didn’t peg you as a sore loser, Azzi,” Paige said and teasingly pushed her. “I pegged you as a loser, sure, but as a sore one? Well, you should just get used to it from now on.”

“This is literally one of the worst losses in my life,” the actress said. “You’re so annoying.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” Paige continued the teasing. 

Azzi rolled her eyes and started to walk in again without waiting for the singer, but Paige quickly ran up to her and put her arm around her shoulders. At that moment, it really hit Azzi that this was their last moment together, and she sunk into Paige’s touch, snaking her arm around her waist holding her closer. 

It didn’t feel right to leave. She could already feel how much she was missing the older girl. She should be worried how attached she had become just in a matter of three weeks. 

“We’re gonna go to the airport now,” Paige announced to her family as they entered the house. 

“No!” Drew exclaimed. “Are you leaving now, Azzi?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” she answered with a sad smile, feeling touched with Drew’s reaction. She gave him a tight hug and promised to play more basketball with him next time, without Paige. Then she hugged Cathy, who wished her a safe flight and told her that it was a great meeting her. 

And then there was Bob. He hugged her tightly and whispered: “Thank you for making my daughter so happy.” Azzi’s eyes widened. The way he had said it was as if it was a secret he was letting her into. It was clear that he didn’t want anyone else to hear it, just Azzi.

Azzi let go of the hug and nodded slowly but surely. She didn’t really know what to respond to it, considering she felt like she should be the one to thank him for raising someone so amazing like Paige. 

“Thank you guys for everything, I’ll hopefully see you again soon,” Azzi said a final goodbye and exited the scene with Paige. 

The moment Azzi sat down in the passenger seat, she felt that something had changed inside of her. What Bob had said to her had stirred something. She had never doubted their connection, never doubted Paige’s intentions, but now she somehow felt more sure than ever. Almost as if she had a new realization, a new conviction. 

“Take me home,” she blurted out to Paige as Paige started the car. 

“What?” Paige asked, confused. “You are going home,” she stated.

“No, I mean take me home to your apartment,” Azzi said with a serious tone. 

“Did you forget something?” Paige asked, still confused. “You’re gonna miss your flight if we go home, I could just send whatever you’ve for-”

“I can’t go home just yet,” Azzi said quietly. “I’ll take a flight home in the morning.”

“Azzi… I mean, are you sure?” 

Azzi just nodded, not really meeting Paige’s eyes, because she had a feeling that if she did, she would fall apart. 

“Then I’ll take us home princess,” Paige smiled widely and took Azzi’s hands in her own, giving the back of it a sweet peck before driving out the driveway. 

The ride home was quiet. They barely spoke to each other. Azzi was too occupied feeling everything all at once. It was quite overwhelming, how much she felt, and she couldn’t even name what exactly it was. It was as if her body hadn’t been able to feel the difference between leaving Paige or being chased by a lion. Her heart was beating fast and all she could focus on was trying to breathe steadily and the safe feeling of Paige’s hand holding her. 

Paige’s head was occupied too, replaying what Azzi just had said and what it meant. Azzi wanted to stay as long as she possibly could, and it meant everything to Paige. Seeing the younger girl being so reluctant about leaving made Paige realize how real this was, how raw it was. It was starting to become something more.

Once they entered the apartment, Azzi wasted no time. She knew what she wanted, and it was Paige. All of Paige, as long and as much as she could. She pushed the singer against the door and crashed their lips together. Her hands were already at the hem of Paige’s hoodie.

Slowly and deliberately, Paige moved her tongue against Azzi’s. She could feel the urgency from the actress but had no intentions of rushing through the night. She grabbed Azzi’s hands from underneath her hoodie and spun them around, pinning the younger one against the door. 

After having spent the last three nights with the actress, Paige had learnt that Azzi was not afraid to take control and take initiative. It was something Paige valued a lot, considering her history with passive and submissive girls, so having Azzi being so assertive was quite refreshing and liberating for her. Of course she had seen a submissive side to Azzi, and it was clear as day that girl was a switch, but this night, she wanted to evoke that side of her to a new level she hasn’t seen yet. 

This time, Paige was done with letting Azzi take control however she wanted. She wanted to treat Azzi the way she deserved to be treated - spoiled with pleasure.

Moving her hands to the actress butt, she slightly bent down and lifted her off the ground. Surprised by it, Azzi’s eyes shot wide open and she flung her arms around Paige’s neck, holding onto her. Paige had one arm under her butt and the other on her back as she carried her to the bedroom while sucking on Azzi’s neck. 

Azzi threw her head back with a soft moan from the sensation. Paige removed her lips from her neck and let her down on the bed, hovering over her.

The actress swallowed from seeing the way Paige was looking down on her. Those blue eyes piercing through her very soul. She could see the hunger and the unadulterated lust in them. It sent shivers right through her. Paige made her feel so desired. 

“Have I told you just how beautiful you are?” Paige whispered.

“A couple times,” Azzi smirked. 

“Hmm, not enough then,” she stated. “And have I told you how fucking sexy you are? The thoughts that ran through my mind tonight during dinner were unspeakable. God Azzi, the things I wanna do to you…”

Azzi let out a desperate breath, almost a whimper, from hearing Paige speak like that. 

“And the way that dress clung onto you,” Paige groaned and lowered herself so she was right by Azzi’s ear. “Just wanted to tear it off of you right then and there.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Azzi breathed into Paige’s ear. 

“I think it’s the other way around, pretty girl,” Paige took off her old hoodie that Azzi was wearing and flung it on the floor, to then immediately take off her pants as well, leaving her in her matching set of lingerie.

“Fuck,” Paige groaned and felt her breathing starting to become heavier just by the sight in front of her. 

Azzi was just about to reach out her hands to touch Paige, but Paige just pinned them down onto the mattress and said: “You’re not in charge tonight, princess.” Azzi just swallowed hard at that, feeling her center ache by the words, getting indescribably turned on. 

Before Azzi knew it, Paige flipped her over so she was lying on her stomach, head buried in the pillows.

“Paige!” she flinched surprised when she felt the singer’s hand give her butt a firm slap. 

The blonde placed her legs on either side of Azzi’s butt and leaned down so she could whisper in her ear. 

“Kinda want to take you like this,” she said and massaged the younger one with her hands on her back. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Azzi didn’t say anything, just trying to catch her breath from everything.

“I said, wouldn’t you?” Paige tugged on her hair so she could look at her face. 

“Yes,” Azzi let out with a soft moan. Her eyes clouded with lust. Paige smirked at seeing Azzi like that. She knew that they hadn’t been drinking at all, yet she looked like she was on another planet. 

“Good girl,” Paige praised and started to kiss down Azzi’s shoulder blades, gliding her fingers delicately down Azzi’s sides to her hips and thighs. Azzi’s body was reacting on its own, hips jerking at every touch, legs squirming trying to get some sort of friction. 

Paige then lifted her hips so her ass was up while her upper body still was down in the sheets. 

“Look at you,” Paige murmured, caressing Azzi’s butt. “You’re soaked.”

Azzi moaned at the remark. 

“Please,” she whispered desperately. She just wanted Paige to touch her where she needed it the most.

“Aw, babygirl needs it badly huh?” Paige asked almost mockingly. 

“Paige,” Azzi pushed herself back against Paige’s soft touch, wanting more, but Paige removed her hands from her completely. But before she could protest, she felt Paige pull her panties down and took them off. 

“You’re dripping,” Paige groaned and couldn’t wait to touch her anymore. She leaned in and flattened her tongue against Azzi’s wet pussy, softly dragging it from the clit to the soaked center. 

“Oh God,” Azzi moaned loudly at the first contact. 

Paige gave another long lick to then detach herself from the actress. 

“Paige please,” Azzi whined, already too impatient. 

“Sit up,” Paige said, and suddenly Azzi felt two hands on her stomach, pushing her upwards. She did as she was told and saw Paige’s face between her legs, waiting for her to sit on it. 

Azzi didn’t waste any time and grabbed Paige’s hair while lowering herself down on her tongue. 

“Fuck,” Azzi moaned and started to grind herself on Paige’s tongue, but really, she was riding on her face. Paige’s hands were roaming Azzi’s front, pulling her bra up and playing with her nipples. 

“You’re so desperate, princess,” Paige mumbled. 

“Shut up,” Azzi breathed out as she felt herself getting closer and held onto Paige’s head harder and grinded even faster.

But Paige was not pleased with that, and flipped them over once again. Azzi’s back hit the mattress. Paige detached her tongue from the actress’ clit and stood up from the bed. 

“Paige, what the fuck!” Azzi exclaimed, extremely frustrated. Paige didn’t listen and just walked over to her closet. Azzi didn’t have to wait long to realize what Paige was doing. 

Before she knew it, Paige was standing before her with her clothes off and strap on. 

“You gonna be good for me now, or are you gonna talk back again?” Paige pushed Azzi’s legs apart, positioning herself. She grabbed a pillow and put it under Azzi’s butt to give her better access. 

“I’ll be good,” Azzi swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight. 

Paige nodded, satisfied with her answer. She leaned down and kissed the actress on the lips, still being wet from having her face ridden on just a moment ago. Azzi could taste herself on Paige’s tongue. 

Even though she loved making out with Paige, this time it felt unbearable. She could feel the strap against her clit with Paige hovering over her. 

She moaned into Paige’s mouth at the sensation between her legs. 

“Please,” she groaned. 

“Please what?” Paige looked down at her. 

“I need it,” she breathed out and put her hands on Paige’s hips. 

“You need it?” Paige just repeated. 

“Need you so, so, bad,” Azzi practically moaned. 

“That’s it, baby,” Paige smiled and grabbed the dildo with one of her hands and slowly entered Azzi. 

“Oh my God,” she arched her back as Paige was slowly but steadily entering her. She wrapped her arms around her neck, holding onto her for dear life. 

“Such a good girl,” Paige whispered into her ear as she had fully eased the dildo into her. 

Azzi wanted to tell her to start moving, to do something instead of just staying still like this, but she knew better now than to start being bratty. Instead, she just started to lightly buck her hips up, feeling the dildo hit the right spot. She moaned into Paige’s ear, and Paige just kissed her neck.

At last, Paige started to move her hips. Azzi’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, her hands holding onto Paige’s back, wanting to be close to her. It felt so intimate, having Paige on top of her like this, fucking her like this. 

“Feels so good,” she whimpered. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Nothing feels better than you, princess,” Paige whispered back and gave her a kiss on the lips. There was something so pure with the simple kiss that was more than just lust. There was trust, there was care and there was admiration in it too. 

“Wish I had a mirror in the ceiling so you could see just how pretty you are, getting fucked like this,” Paige said. “You’re doing so good for me.” 

Azzi could feel herself getting close with those words. 

“I’m gonna cum,” she moaned. “Please.”

“Cum for me baby,” Paige groaned and fucked her even deeper.

And Azzi did. It was as if her body was waiting for Paige’s command, because as the words came out of the singer’s mouth, her body was taken over by pleasure. She arched her body into Paige’s, holding on for dear life while throwing her head back with a loudest moan yet.

Paige slowed down and gently pulled out when Azzi had completely unraveled underneath her. She carefully laid down onto the actress and rested her head on her shoulder, her lips right by her ear. 

“You’re incredible,” she whispered and gave Azzi a sweet kiss on the cheek. 

“You’re, you’re the one to talk,” Azzi panted, trying to catch her breath. She caressed Paige’s back and peppered kisses on her shoulder. 

“I’m glad you wanted to stay a little longer,” Paige leaned back to look into Azzi’s eyes.

“You sure made it worth it,” Azzi smiled. 

“And there’s still so much left of this night,” Paige winked.

“You gotta give me a minute,” Azzi laughed. 

“Want some water?” Paige got up from the bed and headed to the kitchen.

“Yes please.”

Azzi could hear Paige in the kitchen with the tap. Even if they had just finished having sex, the fresh memory of it made Azzi shiver and get goosebumps all over her body. The anticipation of what the rest of the night had in store for them made her tingle all over again. 

So when Paige returned with two glasses in her hands, Azzi threw herself at her, almost making her spill water all over the floor.

“That didn’t take long,” Paige mumbled against Azzi’s lips, smiling like a fool, quickly shutting up to reciprocate the kiss. 

—

“You look like hell,” Zendaya said as she gave Azzi a hug as she entered her trailer. “How was Minnesota?”

They were just about to go to hair and makeup to start the day, but Zendaya wanted to interrogate her friend first. 

“I have barely slept,” Azzi deadpanned. “I flew in this morning, literally just came from the airport. But, it was worth it. Minnesota was amazing.”

“Uh-huh, Minnesota, or Paige?” Zendaya teased.

“Both. Mostly Paige, but Minnesota was actually very beautiful as well.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I think I’m… starting to really like her,” Azzi carefully said to her friend. “Like, for real.”

“Girl, I could’ve told you that two weeks ago,” Zendaya smirked. 

“But isn’t it way too early for that? For feelings and stuff?” Azzi asked. “I feel like I don’t want to mess it up by expecting us to be too serious too fast.”

“Don’t think about that, just let things happen and you’ll see that it’ll get there naturally,” her friend said. “You’re allowed to have feelings. Hell, you have some great feelings. Enjoy it.”

“You’re right,” Azzi smiled. “You know, we were up all night, and I just felt like everything made sense. Being with her makes sense.”

“Up all night huh?” Zendaya winked. “Doing what exactly?”

“Having sex,” Azzi shrugged. “And talking. And then more sex. And then talking. And then cuddling. It just felt like we couldn’t get enough of each other in any way. It was literally heartbreaking to leave. I love being around her.” 

“Aw, that’s adorable,” her friend wrapped her arm around her. “I’m so happy for you Azzi.”

“Yeah. But she’s going to Europe soon and we have the press tour coming up, so we won’t be able to see each other that much now,” Azzi sighed. “And I already miss her.”

“You have your whole life ahead of you to be with her, don’t stress,” Zendaya stated casually, while Azzi just flinched at the mention of “whole life”. It kind of overwhelmed her how this could potentially end up being the best or the most hurting thing in her life. But she quickly tried to comfort herself by thinking that everything in life was a risk, and this was no exception. Except the fact that Paige felt like a piece in her life she wasn’t willing to risk losing. Not even a little bit. 

“Let’s go to hair and makeup now. I can’t believe we’re almost done shooting,” Zendaya stood up to exit the trailer. 

They had approximately two weeks left of shooting the movie before a short break to then go out on a press tour. It wouldn’t be a big press tour, since the real one would start closer to the premiere which would be some time next year. 

Azzi had always loved acting. Ever since she was a kid she was in every school play, every local theatre play and her mom always helped her get small background roles. It was her way of expressing herself, her outlet of emotions. She was grateful her parents were so supportive of that dream, since she understands that most parents would want their children to reach for more stable jobs than acting, but they never stopped believing in her. 

It was only five years ago she felt like she entered the real movie industry and the big Hollywood scene when she was starring in a Christopher Nolan movie amongst other big names. It really happened over night, the difference between being just an actress, to suddenly becoming a celebrity. 

Of course she had been known before, especially internally in the business, and there were some fans here and there. But the mainstream media never covered her like they started to after that movie. The paparazzi were always waiting outside of her home for the whole duration of that movie premiere and then some more months afterwards. Mostly because she was rumoured to be having something with her at the time co-star Maya Hawke, and they were seen leaving together more than once.

And truth be told, Azzi and Maya hadn’t been platonic at all. But they were never officially together either. Maya never wanted to be. She wanted to focus on her career. And it’s not like Azzi didn’t want to focus on her career, but she didn’t feel like she had to make a choice between her job and her love life the same way Maya wanted to. And so after one big fight, they just cut everything off. 

The moment Maya stopped being seen with Azzi, the paparazzi started to simmer down. They didn’t go away completely, but she wouldn’t get blinded every time she would go out at least. 

Azzi had never confirmed her sexuality to the media. She never felt the need to. She was well aware that the majority of her fanbase were queer, who were also hoping that she was queer too, and that they still shipped her with Maya and tagged her in edits every single day. She loved them deeply and appreciated every single one of them. If she would ever officially come out, it would be to them, to share the experiences they all had in common - to proudly be a part of the community. But for now, it was enough to be a part of the community without having to declare it, but without hiding it too. 

Hopefully, Azzi thought, it would happen naturally hand in hand with Paige Bueckers. 

—

[bumblebeeappletree]

Genuinely I think you guys should look into Solarpunk. Like, it’s a dark day in America, and everyone is feeling hopeless. And unfortunately America is a country that literally doesn’t mind its own business and has to be involved with the rest of the world. Mostly in a bad way. But.

I think you need to check out Solarpunk. Yes it’s literary as it’s speculative fiction. Yes it’s an aesthetic. But it’s also a real life movement. It’s activism against the climate crisis. To reverse the effects of our planet. It’s activism for human rights. The right to housing, the right to food, the right to water. Activism for education, health care, child care. To have the choice to have an abortion. It is about banding together with your community, with your fellow humans.

Solarpunk is about feeling rage about everything that is wrong with the world and using it to help fix it. It is about feeling hope that the actions you do will change things for the better, no matter how slow. Organization. Protests. Even something like calling, emailing, writing a letter to the people in your government. Your mayor, your county representative, your state representative and so on. It is about choosing kindness to help people in need. To help people who were once in cults and are taught to be afraid of “outsiders.” To help people when they realize that they were wrong and help them be able to grow. To share food with others, offer a friend a place to stay, join community events.

It is okay to rage. To cry. To scream and feel like the world is burning to the ground. Let yourself feel those emotions. And look at Solarpunk. Use your emotions as fuel to make things better. For yourself and others. To make things a bit kinder. For yourself and others.

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings: blood and thunderbolts spoilers and guns

a/n: should i write hcs for being a thunderbolt and buckys ex

not requested

You chuckled as you saw this one. It’d been years since this place ever crossed your mind. Romania, 2016—the quaint apartment you and Bucky shared when you were both on the run. The place where you fell in love. “Oh, hell.” You rolled your eyes to cover up the fact that this could be yours. CIA broke into your home moments later and in the mayhem of the raid and Captain America coming to your aid, you were shot twice.

You laid on the floor clutching your wounds, fading in and out of consciousness. Lifting your hand for a moment you looked at the dark red blood drenching your hand. Two to the gut, you were going to die—at least, you thought. Bucky was running toward you, but as more bullets came flying he fled the scene. And it all started over again.

“Which one of you is this?” Ava asked, you and Bucky exchanged confused looks. “Well, what was the regret?”

“Leaving y/n to die.” Bucky answered as his past self, still recovering from his time as the Winter Soldier, so cowardly left you there on the floor with no guarantee of your safety.

“Trusting the Winter Soldier.” You revealed after his weakly heartfelt confession. “I could have died, yet I trusted my life in the hands of him.” Bucky rolled his eyes and the two of you began arguing.

“Are we really going to do this ten years later? You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Bucky started to raise his voice.

“I got put in the Raft, asshole! You swore you’d stay by my side and you left me to die and then you let me rot in prison!” You shouted back and the rest of the team stood aside.

“I thought these were traumatic, shameful memories, not ones that piss you and your ex off.” Ava asked, clearly confused.

“They’re definitely masking their grief with anger.” John added and Ava glared over at him. “My wife and I went to one couples counseling session. Didn’t really work out.”

“You might have everyone else fooled, but how much have you really changed?!” You continued spouting off angry comments at one another.

“You would know if you ever returned my calls!” Bucky argued back, which only set you off more. After continued shouting, both of you realized the escape to this room was where you hid your go-bags under the floorboards. A swift punch through the floor opened the next room up. “Before we move on, why didn’t you return my calls?” You sighed at Bucky’s question, something you yourself had been pondering a while.

“Because I was afraid to let you back in.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[beauty-funny-trippy]

Reasons why we know there's something wrong with Grandpa:

• believes immigrants are eating their neighbors pets because he heard someone say it on TV (without any evidence) • thinks injecting disinfectant into our veins might be a good idea. (It's definitely not, don't try it.) • claims America's F35 fighter jet is completely invisible, even if you're right next to it (like Wonder Woman's plane)

• praises white supremacists and KKK members who were chanting antisemitic hate speech, calling them "very fine people" • focuses on imaginary issues like preventing children from changing gender while at school, but ignores real problems like school shootings • thought it was a good idea to give away our desperately needed Covid test machines to our adversary ("Grandpa, what have you done?" — he can't be left alone for a minute) • decided to believe Putin's lies, but dismiss findings from America's intelligence agencies • claims America had airplanes during the Revolutionary War

• believes in the Nazi ideology that immigrants are "poisoning the blood of our country," and says some migrants are actually subhuman "animals" • insisted that the U.S. would have fewer coronavirus cases if it conducted less testing (yes, a U.S. president in charge of controlling the crisis, actually said something this inept, repeatedly) • due to his incompetence and lies during the Covid crisis, the U.S. had one of the highest rates of Covid deaths in the world • thinks windmills cause cancer and kill whales • speaks endlessly about his concerns re: dying by electrocution from a boat battery or being eaten by a shark

• thinks he's above the law and, as president, should be able to commit as many crimes as he wants • is a billionaire who whines about how badly he's been treated, then he's chauffeured to his private jet • likes to discuss Arnold Palmer's penis • after NINE years of repeatedly promising to unveil his Healthcare Plan "very soon," he admits he still has no real plan —only "concepts of a plan" • has a bizarre attraction to the fictional cannibal and serial killer, Hannibal Lector (why? no one knows —and everyone's afraid to ask)

• advocates dangerous plots, like using the military against Americans who disagree with him, or using the DOJ to arrest them, or just telling people to "beat the crap out of them" and he'll pay their legal fees • thinks having a national day of violence is a good idea (we should never have let Grandpa watch "The Purge") • wants to be the "law and order president," yet this 34 time convicted felon incites people to riot and to commit criminal acts of violence • unable to take the loss of an election like a man, he had a temper tantrum like a toddler, that culminated in a treasonous insurrection

⠀This guy is so delusional, he claims he's a genius because he often speaks incoherently in something he calls "the Weave." Here are two examples: • "How disgusted were all when we see all of us are when we see three days ago when we viewed their parade." Asheboro, NC, 8/21/24 • When asked, "What specific legislation will you commit to, to make child care affordable?" He responded, “Well, I would do that, and we’re sitting down, you know; I was, somebody, we had Senator Marco Rubio and my daughter, Ivanka, who was so impactful on that issue. ...But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about that because the childcare is childcare, couldn’t, you know, there’s something you have to have it, in this country you have to have it.” New York, NY, 9/5/24 ⠀If this was anybody else's Grandpa, the family would be having discussions about who's going to go with Grandpa to the doctor to find out what's wrong with him, and who's going to be in charge of finding him a nice convalescent home to live in. ⠀My suggestion is that it might be a good idea to elect a president who has no cognitive impairment and can tell the difference between reality and delusions. Personally, I think that's a rather important quality in a president.

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

A soft breeze came through the curtains in my living room as my eyes scanned the same sentence in the book that was placed in my lap. The sentence that I had reread four times now. Closing the book with a groan, I set it on the other end of the couch and grabbed my phone from the coffee table in front of me. 

No new messages. 

I pocketed my phone while pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Worry etched in my bones as I realized that I hadn’t heard from Steve in over 48 hours. He never went that long without sending some kind of message back to me. It was supposed to be a simple “save the hostages from a ship in the middle of the ocean. It’ll take a day tops.” Steve words. So here I was, two days later wondering what the hell went wrong. 

“Stupid ankle,” I cursed my sprained ankle as it was the reason I couldn’t go on the current mission. 

I had tweaked it a few weeks back and Steve wanted to make sure it was 100% before going back in the field. No matter how hard I tried to convince him I was fine, Steve could tell in the small limp that I was lying. 

I’d been on Team Captain America for almost a year now, Nick recruiting me because of my background. Three years on New York Swat and almost five as a secret agent for the FBI. There was more to my past, which helped mold me into the agent I was today but that was a part of my life that I kept hidden from everyone, including Steve. There was a time in my life where I was at my lowest and darkest; however, as much as that moment in my life caused me many emotional and permanent scars, I don’t think I would be where I was today. 

My finger ran over a small scar on my wrist as I thought back to that time, years ago, and my skin quivered as those memories came back. A dark, cold room with only one bed and the looming fear of when the next time would be when I would see him; would it also be the last time? Would my end be near?

“Christ, I haven’t thought of him in years.” I shuttered, pushing those thoughts away and tried to think of Steve.

In the year that I had been working side by side with him, Steve and I had become incredibly close. Soft touches, hushed conversions just between the two of us, and stares that never went unnoticed. We weren’t official, afraid of it getting in the way of work so we would never make it past first base; hell we never even made it close to first base.

Tired eyes read the clock that hung above the fireplace and a soft sigh left my lips. Calling him would be a waste of time because I knew he never kept his phone on him while on the field, it always stayed on the jet, so I decided to send him a text. 

I should have figured it would take you longer than a day without me.-Y/N. 

I didn’t even have a chance to set my phone down because a few seconds later it was buzzing and Steve’s face appeared on my screen, indicating he was face timing me. 

“Thank god I actually look somewhat decent,” I muttered before hitting the green button, accepting the call. 

Steve’s bright smile warmed my heart as I took in his appearance. Soot covered his forehead and chin, his typically styled hair was a mess, almost falling in his eyes as those tired blue eyes stared at me. 

“Hi,” I breathed. 

“Hey yourself. What time is it there?” Steve questioned. 

I looked at the clock before my gaze rested back on Steve. “Just past 6 in the morning. How’d the mission go?” 

Steve leaned back in the chair of the jet and ran a hand over his face, unbeknownst to him smearing the soot over his face. I suppressed a giggle, not wanting to let him know. 

“You’re cleared to go back on duty. Starting three days ago.” 

“I told you! We could have been finished days ago and you wouldn’t have needed me to water your plants.” I joked.

Steve shot up. “You have been watering them, right?” 

The seriousness in his voice made me roll my eyes. 

“Oh my god, grandpa. Yes, I did water your plants. You know, I forget that you’re 95 years old then you act like that and suddenly it all comes back.” I said with a small smile. 

“You love me,” Steve gave me a smug smile. 

My heart flipped. You have no idea. 

“So when are you going to be back?” I changed the subject. 

“The jet is landing at SHIELD in a few hours. I have to do a few errands but then I’m all yours,” the softness in his smile warmed my heart. 

“The usual?” I asked. 

“I’ve called in the pizza. It should be ready to go by seven.” 

“I’ll bring the beers then,” I smiled 

Every time we complete a mission, Steve and I would meet at his place for pizza and beers. It had been our tradition for the past year, no one else from the team joining. 

Just us. 

Steve’s lips moved as he was about to say something but a certain redhead appeared from behind him, coming into view. 

“NAT!” I yelled, “I miss you!” 

Her smile mirrored my own. 

“You are forbidden from ever taking leave again. This one almost forgot his shield.” Natasha pointed at Steve. 

“I did not!” He defended. 

“Oh Stevie, what would you do without me?” I cooed and noticed his cheeks burned red. 

We stared at each other for a few seconds and if feeling some type of tension between us, Nat shook her head before ruffling Steve’s hair. 

“You’ve got something on your face.” 

Steve looked closer into his phone and I swore, his cheeks were a deep crimson now. 

“You let me talk to you like this the entire time?” Steve questioned, quietly thanking Nat who gave him a towel. 

I shrugged. “I thought it was a cute look.” 

“Maybe if you stopped giving Y/N bedroom eyes, you would have noticed how dirty you were,” Natasha teased. 

“Nat!” I scoffed, feeling some warmth spread to my stomach. 

“What?” She shrugged, “Someone has to call him out."

Shaking my head with a laugh, I gave them a small wave goodbye and told Steve I would see him later. 

I ended the phone call with a sigh and felt excitement spread through my veins as the thought of being alone with Steve kept creeping in the back of my mind. 

“Where the hell are you Rogers,” I grumbled as I checked my phone for the fifth time since arriving at his apartment twenty minutes ago. 

I had called and texted him wondering when he would be home but was met with silence. My fingers slid over his door frame before peaking under the doormat hoping to find a spare key but nothing. 

“You’re damn lucky you’re cute,” I cursed when I checked my phone yet again. 

“Talking to yourself?” 

Spinning on my heels towards the voice, my heart leaped when I saw Steve ascend the staircase, wearing the brown leather jacket that looked so good on him. He had the box of pizza in one hand and was messing with his keys in the other.

“I left my spare key at home. You should really leave another one somewhere.” I noted. 

“I do,” he nodded towards his neighbor across the hall, “Kate has one.” 

“Oh,” I sighed. 

As if the Gods’ wanted to torture me more with the thought of Steve’s neighbor across the hall, she came out from her apartment. Adjusting the laundry basket on her hip, she smiled towards Steve. 

Jealous eyes watched as they chatted, Steve flirting almost effortlessly with her. She giggled at a lame joke he told and I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. My shoulders slouched in anger when Steve invited her over to join us. 

“I don’t want to impose,” she looked between Steve and I. 

Steve quickly shook his head. “No, we’re just friends.” 

My heart dropped to my stomach. “Yeah, friends.” 

“Maybe next time. I’ve got a load in the wash.” 

Steve agreed the next time and I had to turn away as he hugged Kate. 

“You could have been a little nicer to her,” Steve asked as he leaned against his door. 

“I’ve been waiting almost a half hour for you. I’m tired and hungry so sorry I didn’t feel like being friendly,” I snapped but immediately apologized when I saw the hurt flash across his face. 

“It’s been a really long day,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Steve pulled me into his chest and left a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was visiting a friend at the V.A center.” 

My brows rose. “The V.A center?” 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Sam. I met him a few days ago. He’s nice, I can set you up with him if you want?” 

“No thanks,” I scrunch my face, “I can find a guy by myself.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Steve joked. 

Scoffing, I gave him a slight push and I nodded towards the door. “My pizza is getting cold.” 

He laughed but his body froze leaning an ear against the door. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“My record player is on.” Steve glanced over to me. 

I leaned my ear against the door but shook my head, “I don’t hear anything.”

“You don’t have super soldier hearing,” Steve teased. “Did you leave it on?”

“I swear I turned it off when I left the other day.” I promised. 

Getting into Captain America mode, Steve shielded me as he slowly unlocked the door, pushing it open. I slipped my knife out of my boot as I followed close behind. The music vibrated off the walls as Steve grabbed his shield from its place on the wall. The knife flipped in my fingers with ease as we reached the living room and saw the slouched figure sitting in the chair. 

Nick Furry.

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Steve sighed while leaning against the wall.

“Did you really think I would need one?,” Nick defended while sitting up, “My wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” I admitted. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Nick admitted.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve declared while turning on the light.

Goosebumps pricked my skin when I took in Nick’s appearance. He had a giant gash to the side of his head and blood was dripping down onto Steve’s chair. I wanted to ask what happened but he held up a finger to silence me while he turned off the light. Nick typed a message into his phone before showing us. 

Ears everywhere.

Steve and I shared a look before our eyes glanced around the apartment. Steve tensed up next to me, the anger of being watched rose from within and he cursed under his breath. All of his private moments suddenly weren’t so private anymore. 

“I’m sorry to do this but I had no other place to crash,” Nick showed us a new message on his phone. 

Shield Compromised.

“What the fuck,” I cursed. 

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve continued to play along, in case it was true that his apartment was bugged. 

Nick stood with a groan and limped over to us, clutching his side. “Just my friends.”

Just us. The new message on his phone read. 

Steve scoffed. “Is that what we are, Nick?” 

“Steve,” I warned, “Now isn’t the time for whatever beef you have with him.” 

“That’s up to you,” Nick admitted. 

The floor beneath our feet shook as a scream erupted from my throat when the wall behind Nick exploded in gunfire. Steve grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest as we watched in horror as Nick’s limp body fell to the ground. 

“What the fuck?!” I yelled. 

“Get away from the window!” Steve demanded, pulling Nick’s body in the hallway with us. 

He went to look out the window to see if he was able to see the shooter but Nick grasped his arm stopping him. 

He opened his hand and a hard drive sparkled from the light outside. 

“Don’t. Trust. Anyone.” Nick sputtered before passing out. 

“Steve, what the hell is going on?” My voice quivered with fear. 

Before Steve could answer, his front door busted open and Kate walked in, gun armed and aimed. 

“Captain Rogers, I’m Agent 13, Shield Special Service.” Kate said, walking further into Steve’s apartment. 

“Kate? What the hell are you doing here?” I questioned. 

“I’ve been assigned to protect Steve,” She defended. 

“On whose order?” Steve snapped. 

Kate set her gun down before nodding towards Nick. “His.” 

Steve and I shared a look and giving him a slight nod, I turned my attention towards Kate. “You should call it in, Agent.”

“Foxtrot is down and unresponsive. I need EMT’S.” Kate ignored me as she talked into the radio. 

“Do we have a twenty on the shooter?”

Steve peaked around the corner and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him. “Tell them we’re in pursuit.” 

Not asking any questions, I let Steve wrap his arm around my waist as we ran through the window, literally, and felt the ground vanish beneath our feet. Glass shattered around us as we landed hard on the floor of the building across the street. 

“Ow, that’s gonna leave a mark,” I groaned, rising to my feet taking off in a chase after the shooter.

Steve was just a few paces ahead of me while the shooter was on the roof above us, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty offices. Steve busted through doors and glass windows, making it easier for me to keep up with him.

“There has to be a staircase to the roof somewhere!” I yelled before I watched through the window in front of us as the shooter jumped down onto the roof of the building in front.

“We’re going through the window, aren't we?” I semi whined. 

“Yup!” 

Suddenly, Steve barreled his way through the window rolling onto his knees and threw his shield at the shooter. The broken glass crunched beneath my boots as I came to a sudden halt when my eyes landed on the man who had caught Captain America’s shield mid throw. 

Long brown locks. 

Blue eyes. 

A metal arm. 

My mouth ran dry while my hands shook, unable to move out of the way as the shield came flying back towards me. Ears rang in silence as the blood drained from my face, memories of that same metal arm slamming into me like a brick wall. The same man that I thought of earlier for the first time in years was standing right in front of me, in the flesh. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve’s voice brought me back as I fell to the ground with his body on mine. With the shield gripped tight in one hand, his other gently cupped my cheek. Steve pulled my face to look into his eyes; however, I couldn’t focus. I ignored the feeling that took over my body when Steve pressed his hips into mine, unknowingly, and licked my dry lips. 

My past life had just barreled into me; a private part of my life that absolutely no one knew about and suddenly, I was very terrified of them finding out. 

[annarobszombies]

Hi! Im different anon with the Ryusui x childhood friend reader BUT! I like it SOOO MUCHH and im as greedy as Ryusui so could you make the part 2 of their journey but in stone world era?

Thank you very much!

This is short took too long for me to do I am so sorry :')

Ryusui x gn!Reader [childhood friends to lovers] Pt. 2

The only reason he waits to have you revived, is because of the lack of revival fluid

And having Francois to cook and handle all the tasks they were good at had to take priority

Make no mistake though

He's unhappy about it

He's the greediest man in the world, and the only thing he wants he can't have

For way too long

He has your statue collected, thankful that you'd happened to be with him the day of petrification, and keeps it in the living space he's given

Has Yuzuriha make you the finest of outfits for when you're finally able to be revived

Does not go to America without you

In fact

Once the Perseus is built, and platinum is acquired, he tells Senku that he refuses to go anywhere else without his partner.

He needed you at his side for this

You were his best motivation

Senku agrees with a shrug, caring more about the extra pair of hands he was about to have than he was your importance to Ryusui

Waking you is an intimate affair

He doesn't want you to see anyone else but him when you open your eyes for the first time in 3,700 years

Not even Francois is allowed in the room to welcome you

Your knees buckle when the stone falls away, your body falling forward directly into his arms

He's not afraid to admit that his eyes filled with tears at the sound of your voice

It's just been so long.

He missed you.

He'd have kissed you right then, but you were overwhelmed enough already

You take the news of everything as best you can, but Ryusui can tell it's hard for you

You'd had plans

Things you had been looking forward to

And now all of it was gone, just like that.

He swears, no matter what, that he'd give you everything you wanted

Introduces you to everyone by calling you his spouse.

To which, you frown, and remind him that you two hadn't been married in the old world.

"Future spouse then!" He says. "You did agree to marry me by 25, you know."

There's no arguing with him, you should really know this by now

But even still, he's mindful of the boundaries you two had put in place all those hundreds of years ago

Just because he was ready (and had been for some time now) didn't mean you were just yet.

(He still insists on holding hands as often as possible)

Protects you with his life while dealing with the American colony

But beams with pride when you curse Stanley out (loudly and in English so you know he can understand you) from the mobile lab as you escape his barrage of bullets

[probablyasocialecologist]

Degrowth basics

"The word degrowth stands for a family of political-economic approaches that, in the face of today’s accelerating planetary ecological crisis, reject unlimited, exponential economic growth as the definition of human progress."

What is Degrowth? | Caracol DSA

Why degrowth is the only responsible way forward | OpenDemocracy

Degrowth and MMT: A thought experiment

We Need A Fair Way To End Infinite Growth | Current Affairs

Degrowth: A Call for Radical Abundance | Common Dreams

Can degrowth save us and the planet? | Nottingham Trent

Defending limits is not Malthusian | Undisciplined Environments

Can We Have Prosperity Without Growth? | New Yorker

The Urgent Case for Shrinking the Economy | The New Republic

Giving Up on Economic Growth Could Make Us Cooler and Happier | The New Republic

A guide to degrowth: The movement prioritizing wellbeing in a bid to avoid climate cataclysm | CNBC

What is ‘degrowth’ and how can it fight climate change? | Popular Science

Enough for Everyone | Yes! Magazine

Toward a Post-Capitalist Future: On the Growth of “Degrowth” | Lit Hub

All we are saying is give degrowth a chance | The RSA

A pathway out of environmental collapse | newsroom

On Technology and Degrowth | Monthly Review

What is degrowth (and more importantly, what is it not)? | META

Green growth

"There is no empirical evidence that absolute decoupling from resource use can be achieved on a global scale against a background of continued economic growth."

Is Green Growth Possible? | Jason Hickel & Giorgos Kallis

The Myth of America’s Green Growth | Foreign Policy

The decoupling delusion: rethinking growth and sustainability | The Conversation

Is green growth happening? | Uneven Earth

Green Growth | Uneven Earth

The Delusion of Infinite Economic Growth | Scientific American

Degrowth is not austerity – it is actually just the opposite | Al Jazeera

A response to Paul Krugman: Growth is not as green as you might think | Timothée Parrique

Deceitful Decoupling: Misconceptions of a Persistent Myth | Alevgul H. Sorman

Degrowth isn’t the same as a recession – it’s an alternative to growing the economy forever | The Conversation

Degrowth and the left

"In the middle of an ecological emergency, should we be producing sport utility vehicles and mansions? Should we be diverting energy to support the obscene consumption and accumulation of the ruling class?"

The Left should embrace degrowth | New Internationalist

Ecosocialism is the Horizon, Degrowth is the Way | The Trouble

Degrowth: Socialism without Growth | Brave New Europe

Toward an Ecosocialist Degrowth: From the Materially Inevitable to the Socially Desirable | Monthly Review

For an Ecosocialist Degrowth | Monthly Review

Degrowth and Revolutionary Organizing | Rosa Luxemburg NYC

The necessity of ecosocialist degrowth | Rupture

Degrowth is Anti-Capitalist | Protean Mag

Degrowth Communism | PPPR (Part one | Part two | Part three)

Economic Planning and Degrowth: How Socialism Survives the 21st Century | New Socialist

Degrowth and the South

"Southern countries should be free to organize their resources and labor around meeting human needs rather than around servicing Northern growth."

Who is afraid of degrowth? A Global South economic perspective | IBON Foundation

The anti-colonial politics of degrowth | Jason Hickel

Unlearning: From Degrowth to Decolonization | Rosa Luxemburg NYC

Degrowth requires the Global South to default on its foreign debts | Resilience

Journals/Reports

Degrowth: a theory of radical abundance | Jason Hickel

A systematic review of the evidence on decoupling of GDP, resource use and GHG emissions, part II: synthesizing the insights

What does degrowth mean? A few points of clarification | Jason Hickel

Providing decent living with minimum energy: A global scenario | Global Environmental Change

Urgent need for post-growth climate mitigation scenarios | Nature Energy

Degrowth and critical agrarian studies | Julien-François Gerber

Decoupling debunked – Evidence and arguments against green growth as a sole strategy for sustainability | European Environmental Bureau

Incrementum ad Absurdum: Global Growth, Inequality and Poverty Eradication in a Carbon-Constrained World | David Woodward

Degrowth can work — here’s how science can help | Nature

A New Political Economy for a Healthy Planet | Jason Hickel

Planning beyond growth. The case for economic democracy within limits

Millionaire spending incompatible with 1.5 °C ambitions | Cleaner Production Letters

Is green growth happening? An empirical analysis of achieved versus Paris-compliant CO2–GDP decoupling in high-income countries | The Lancet

Books

Exploring Degrowth: A Critical Guide | Pluto Press

A People's Green New Deal | Max Ajl

Less is More: How Degrowth Will Save the World | Jason Hickel

Breaking Things at Work: The Luddites Are Right About Why You Hate Your Job | Verso Books

The Future is Degrowth: A Guide to a World Beyond Capitalism | Verso Books

The Imperial Mode of Living: Everyday Life and the Ecological Crisis of Capitalism | Verso Books

Marx in the Anthropocene: Towards the Idea of Degrowth Communism | Kohei Saito

Degrowth & Strategy: how to bring about social-ecological transformation

27 Essays and Thoughts on Degrowth | Giorgos Kallis

Videos

Yes To Limits To Growth! | The Other School

How Degrowth Can Save the World | Andrewism

How We End Consumerism | Our Changing Climate

Demystifying Degrowth | Rosa Luxemburg NYC

Degrowth is not Austerity | John the Duncan

Degrowth and Ecosocialism | Planet: Critical

Degrowth in 7 minutes: Fighting for climate by living better | Think That Through

The Future is Degrowth (w/ Aaron Vansintjan) || SRSLY WRONG

"Degrowth means power to the working class!"with Jason Hickel | GND Media

Others

degrowth.info

Degrowth Journal

Doughnut Economics

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I’ve spent a few years in online fandoms now (pre Voltron era) and have found that the following applies to (not all) antis:

They’re largely between 13-19 or early 20 at most

adults older than that make up the smallest amount

Antis’ friend groups are almost entirely online

people with social connections offline are or people with fullfilling jobs are usually not antis (there are of course exceptions)

Almost all antis have intergenerational friendships. This isn’t unusual irl when it affects people who go to school (like HS and college) or neighbors or irl friends, but antis’ friend groups consist of total strangers. Very few only want followers of the same age range

Because of this, minors are easily more radicalized on the internet. Currently I would say Twitter and Threads contribute the most to it because these platforms are rife with hate, disinformation and have a general lack of online safety features

Therefore they may also develop moral scrupulosity ocd, a form of OCD where people are afraid of being “immoral”, therefore they seek for moral purity and find their beliefs echoed in purity culture

which is also why they tend to flock to people who portray themselves as “safe” or who call out “morally corrupt” people (proshippers). Those who call out moral corruption can possibly be no “bad” people

anti rhetoric is strongly based on anti kink/anti sex and “kink critical” radical feminist and conservative rhetoric

the anti phenomena is also largely American. Despite antis being people of many different ethnicities, most anti rhetoric reflects America’s political views on sex/gender, feminism, sex ed, sex in general and the increasing amount of anti science beliefs and anti intellectualism

therefore, antis can only be countered by:

Stopping the spread of disinformation

Instead internet safety should be taught again

social media should employ better moderation (which I get is not possible unless we switch to dedicated fandom forums or something )

make people aware of red flags to look out for (for example online grooming, cults, radicalization)

share facts about queer history and explain why radical feminism is bad for everyone (including cis women)

parents should definitely monitor their kids more often. I don’t mean 24/7 surveillance, I mean teach them where and how to find information safely and age appropriately

bring back places where kids can be kids offline and online (not asking this of common people but as a suggestion for politicians we vote for)

report, block, mute and make people aware of fandom etiquette

Ate and left no crumbs. I may link this at the top of my page.

[mariacallous]

What is a country? The way its people govern themselves. America exists because its people elect those who make and execute laws. The assumption of a democracy is that individuals have dignity and rights that they realize and protect by acting together.

The people who now dominate the executive branch of the government deny all of this, and are acting, quite deliberately, to destroy the nation. For them, only a few people, the very wealthy with a certain worldview, have rights, and the first among these is to dominate.

For them, there is no such thing as an America, or Americans, or democracy, or citizens, and they act accordingly. Now that the oligarchs and their clients are inside the federal government, they are moving, illegally and unconstitutionally, to take over its institutions.

The parts of the government that work to implement laws have been maligned for decades. Americans have been told that the people who provide them with services are conspirators within a “deep state.” We have been instructed that the billionaires are the heroes.

All of this work was preparatory to the coup that is going on now. The federal government has immense capacity and control over trillions of dollars. That power was a cocreation of the American people. It belongs to them. The oligarchs around Trump are working now to take it for themselves.

Theirs is a logic of destruction. It is very hard to create a large, legitimate, functioning government. The oligarchs have no plan to govern. They will take what they can, and disable the rest. The destruction is the point. They don’t want to control the existing order. They want disorder in which their relative power will grow.

Think of the federal government as a car. You might have thought that the election was like getting the car serviced. Instead, when you come into the shop, the mechanics, who somehow don’t look like mechanics, tell you that they have taken the parts of your car that work and sold them and kept the money. And that this was the most efficient thing to do. And that you should thank them.

The gap between the oligarchs’ wealth and everyone else’s will grow. Knowing what they themselves will do and when, they will have bet against the stock market in advance of Trump’s deliberately destructive tariffs, and will be ready to tell everyone to buy the crypto they already own. But that is just tomorrow and the day after.

In general, the economic collapse they plan is more like a reverse flood from the Book of Genesis, in which the righteous will all be submerged while the very worst ride Satan’s ark. The self-chosen few will ride out the forty days and forty night. When the waters subside, they will be alone to dominate.

Trump’s tariffs (which are also likely illegal) are there to make us poor. Trump’s attacks on America’s closest friends, countries such as Canada and Denmark, are there to make enemies of countries where constitutionalism works and people are prosperous. As their country is destroyed, Americans must be denied the idea that anything else is possible.

Deportations are a spectacle to turn Americans against one another, to make us afraid, and to get us to see pain and camps as normal. They also create busy-work for law enforcement, locating the “criminals” in workplaces across the country, as the crime of the century takes place at the very center of power.

The best people in American federal law enforcement, national security, and national intelligence are being fired. The reasons given for this are DEI and trumpwashing the past. Of course, if you fire everyone who was concerned in some way with the investigations of January 6th or of Russia, that will be much or even most of the FBI. Those are bad reasons, but the reality is worse: the aim is lawlessness: to get the police and the patriots out of the way.

In the logic of destruction, there is no need to rebuild afterwards. In this chaos, the oligarchs will tell us that there is no choice but to have a strong man in charge. It can be a befuddled Trump signing ever larger pieces of paper for the cameras, or a conniving Vance who, unlike Trump, has always known the plot. Or someone else.

After we are all poor and isolated, the logic goes, we will be consoled by the thought that there is at least a human being to whom we can appeal. We will settle for a kind of anthropological minimum, wishful contact with the strong man. As in Russia, pathetic video selfies sent to the Leader will be the extent of politics.

For the men currently pillaging the federal government, the data from those video selfies is more important than the people who will make them. The new world they imagine is not just anti-American but anti-human. The people are just data, means to the end of accumulating wealth.

They see themselves as the servants of the freedom of the chosen few, but in fact they are possessed, like millennia of tyrants before them, of fantastic dreams: they will live forever, they will go to Mars. None of that will happen; they will die here on Earth, with the rest of us, their only legacy, if we let it happen, one of ruins. They are god-level brainrotted.

The attempt by the oligarchs to destroy our government is illegal, unconstitutional, and more than a little mad. The people in charge, though, are very intelligent politically, and have a plan. I describe it not because it must succeed but because it must be described so that we can make it fail. This will require clarity, and speed, and coalitions. I try to capture the mood in my little book On Tyranny. Here are a few ideas.

If you voted Republican, and you care about your country, please act rather than rationalize. Unless you cast your ballot so that South African oligarchs could steal your data, your money, your country, and your future, make it known to your elected officials that you wanted something else. And get ready to protest with people with whom you otherwise disagree.

Almost everything that has happened during this attempted takeover is illegal. Lawsuits can be filed and courts can order that executive orders be halted. This is crucial work.

Much of what is happening, though, involves private individuals whose names are not even known, and who have no legal authority, wandering through government offices and issuing orders beyond even the questionable authority of executive orders. Their idea is that they will be immunized by their boldness. This must be proven wrong.

Some of this will reach the Supreme Court quickly. I am under no illusion that the majority of justices care about the rule of law. They know, however, that our belief in it makes their office something other than the undignified handmaiden of oligarchy. If they legalize the coup, they are irrelevant forever.

Individual Democrats in the Senate and House have legal and institutional tools to slow down the attempted oligarchical takeover. There should also be legislation. It might take a moment, but even Republican leaders might recognize that the Senate and House will no longer matter in a post-American oligarchy without citizens.

Trump should obviously be impeached. Either he has lost control, or he is using his power to do obviously illegal things. If Republicans have a sense of where this is going, there could be the votes for an impeachment and prosecution.

Those considering impeachment should also include Vance. He is closer to the relevant oligarchs than Trump, and more likely to be aware of the logic of destruction than he. The oligarchs have likely factored in, or perhaps even want, the impeachment and prosecution of Trump. Unlike Vance, Trump has charisma and followers, and could theoretically resist them. He won’t; but he poses a hypothetical risk to the oligarchs that Vance does not.

Democrats who serve in state office as governors have a chance to profile themselves, or more importantly to profile an America that still works. Attorneys general in states have a chance to enforce state laws, which will no doubt have been broken.

The Democratic Party has a talented new chair. Democrats will need instruments of active opposition, such as a People’s Cabinet, in which prominent Democrats take responsibility for following government departments. It would be really helpful to have someone who can report to the press and the people what is happening inside Justice, Defense, Transportation, and the Treasury, and all the others, starting this week.

Federal workers should stay in office, if they can, for as long as they can. This is not political, but existential, for them and for all of us. They will have a better chance of getting jobs afterwards if they are fired. And the logic of their firing is to make the whole government fail. The more this can be slowed down, the longer the rest of us have to get traction.

And companies? As every CEO knows, the workings of markets depend upon the government creating a fair playing field. The ongoing takeover will make life impossible for all but a few companies. Can American companies responsibly pay taxes to a US Treasury controlled by their private competitors? Tesla paid no federal tax at all in 2024. Should other companies pay taxes that, for all they know, will just enrich Tesla’s owner?

Commentators should please stop using words such as “digital” and “progress” and “efficiency” and “vision” when describing this coup attempt. The plotting oligarchs have legacy money from an earlier era of software, which they are now seeking to leverage, using destructive political techniques, to destroy human institutions. That’s it. They are offering no future beyond acting out their midlife crises on the rest of us. It is demeaning to pretend that they represent something besides a logic of destruction.

As for the rest of us: Make sure you are talking to people and doing something. The logic of “move fast and break things,” like the logic of all coups, is to gain quick dramatic successes that deter and demoralize and create the impression of inevitability. Nothing is inevitable. Do not be alone and do not be dismayed. Find someone who is doing something you admire and join them.

What is a country? The way its people govern themselves. Sometimes self-government just means elections. And sometimes it means recognizing the deeper dignity and meaning of what it means to be a people. That means speaking up, standing out, and protesting. We can only be free together.

[theconstantsidekick]

Avengers : Age Of Ultron ft. Static (3) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Idk what this is called. Ego stroking and Fluff?

Summary: The question of the hour is, who is Y/n Stark's favorite Avenger? Is it Tony Stark, The Iron Man, her brother? Or Steve Rogers, Captain America, her boyfriend? Everyone's dying to find out.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, yet to be codenamed—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Bullying

a/n: there is a chunk in there about tony that i absolutely loved writing the shit out of. so tell me what you think, please. comment!

Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (2) | Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (4) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

When Y/n and Steve walk in, most of the guests have dwindled away. Leaving only the Avengers in the room. 

Bruce is sitting on the couch, leaning over to talk to Natash on the armchair to his left. On Bruce’s other side sits Sam, on the backrest of the couch and below him is Clint, on the floor,  fiddling with drum sticks—which she has absolutely no clue about the origins of. Maria’s right there next to him, on the floor, heels abandoned to the side. Tony’s standing by the bar, pouring a couple drinks, she’s presuming for himself and her. Rhodey’s taken the seat on Maria’s right, meanwhile Thor’s half lying on the couch opposite Clint and Maria.

However, the best addition to all this is Helen Cho, sleeping peacefully in one corner of the room, while the rest of them chat away.

“Hey, hotshot!” Sam yells the moment he spots her. “Who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“I heard you put your money on Tony,” she throws back very easily as she walks over to meet Tony at the bar. Steve, on the other hand, seats himself between Rhodey and Thor. “Worried you’ll lose?”

Before Sam can respond, however, Natasha speaks up, “Oh, he’s definitely losing.”

Y/n and Tony share a smile as he offers her the drink, then together, they head back to the centre of the room and join these crazy kids at the table. 

“Why, Romanoff, you seem mighty confident for a girl who calls me a puzzle she can’t solve,” Y/n remarks, taking a seat on the armchair next to Thor while Tony sits down next to Rhodey. “Who’d you pick?” She knows the answer, she just wants to hear it. Stirring shit up is afterall, a Stark’s favorite family bonding activity.

Natasha makes a face like it should be fucking obvious. “Steve,” she says.

“Ah,” Y/n nods. “You think those baby blues work on me in the bedroom, so they must work on the field too?” 

“No,” she counters with a smile. “I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you talk about him, not just Steve Rogers, the boyfriend but Steve Rogers, The Captain America. You admire him.” She adjusts herself to look right at Y/n as she adds, “You might be a puzzle I can’t solve, but I know this much, the baby blues work wonders on you. He’s it for you.”

The statement made is utterly true, and it makes Y/n want to look over at Steve for his reaction. But she’s frankly very afraid of what that might be, so chooses not to. Instead she barely sets her glass down to respond before Clint points a drumstick at her like it’s a gavel of absolute judgment. 

“Baby blues can take a damn hike. It’s definitely Tony,” he declares, spinning the stick between his fingers. “It’s the law. Blood over boyfriends.”

“First of all,” Rhodey cuts in, with a cunning smirk, “we don’t even know if she picked anyone.”

“Please,” Sam scoffs. “That smile? That’s the smile of someone who’s already made a choice and is just waiting for us to catch up.”

She does smile. Because he’s right.

“Exactly,” Thor agrees, raising his drink like he’s toasting her superior intellect. “And the answer is clear! The bond of siblings is forged in the stars. Little Stark would never betray her brother.”

“Okay, first of all—” Tony interjects, pointing dramatically, “thank you, Point Break. Second, she would betray me, but only if it were funny.”

She raises her glass to him in silent agreement.

“That’s adorable,” Bruce says dryly, “but the answer is Steve.”

Hill hums. “Yeah, no. I’m gonna have to side with the Norse God on this one.”

“Exactly!” Clint inflates, seeing the tides turn his way again. “You can’t just disregard decades of Stark sibling history for some—” he gestures vaguely at Steve, “—muscles and morality situation.”

Steve, who’s been quietly sipping his drink, raises a brow. “Some muscles and morality situation?”

“I mean… accurate,” Y/n muses.

It makes Steve turn to her and pass a look.

‘Really?’ he asks her wordlessly. ‘Really.’ she replies with a smile.

The exchange goes unnoticed by the rest, who are still dead set on their debate.

“See?” Natasha smirks. “It’s Steve.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, no, no. Y’all are forgetting the key factor—who puts up with Y/n’s bullshit more?”

“Tony,” Clint says immediately.

“Steve,” Natasha counters, just as fast.

Bruce lifts a hand. “Steve literally chose this. Tony was born into it.”

“Oh, so it’s voluntary suffering that makes someone her favorite?” Maria deadpans. “That’s the logic we’re going with?”

“You’re acting like loving Y/n is some great hardship,” Tony says, putting a hand to his chest like a martyr. “It’s not, okay? It’s a privilege. A spectacular pain in the ass, but a privilege.”

Steve snorts into his drink. She just winks at him.

Bruce sits up then, “If we’re going purely by scientific method—”

“No one asked for science, Doc,” Sam cuts in.

Bruce is undeterred. “—she gravitates toward Cap in high-stress situations. It’s a subconscious preference.”

She tilts her head, intrigued. “That a fact, Doc?”

“It’s an observable pattern,” Bruce nods.

Tony scoffs. “Or, and hear me out, it’s just that Steve’s built like a brick wall and happens to be standing in the way most of the time.”

Steve sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m right here.”

Rhodey, having had enough, finally leans forward, aiming to end the debate. “You’re all wrong, by the way.”

That gets the room’s attention.

“Oh, this should be good,” Tony says. “Go on, War Machine. Who do you think it is?”

Rhodey smirks. “Neither of you two, that’s for sure,” he states with finality.

“How’d you figure that?” Steve asks, curious.

“‘Cause whenever you tell her to pick favorites, she answers with the most out of pocket shit—for instance, you ask her what her favorite Star Wars is, and you’d think she’ll say Empire or Return of the Jedi, right?” Everyone nods. Rhodey just shakes his head and looks at her, encouraging her to answer.

“A New Hope,” she obliges.

Groans sound out across the room, with complaints to boot. 

But Rhodey smiles triumphant. “See?” He takes a sip of his drink, “It’s neither of you, trust me.”

“This proves nothing,” Clint counters. “Other than the fact that she has questionable taste—which seems to be the pattern,” he says looking at Steve.

Steve sighs, put upon. “You didn’t even know we were dating until an hour ago.”

“Which is absolutely wild to me,” Y/n chimes in. “You thought the kiss I gave him after the mission was purely platonic? Or did you think I kiss all the Avengers like that?”

“I knew you guys had a  thing! I just missed the part where you made it official,” Clint defends.

“We’re getting sidetracked,” Sam butts in. 

“Despite being hopelessly blind, Barton’s logic is sound,” Thor says then. “Choice made in Midgardian movies holds no bearing whatsoever on her choice of favorite Avenger.”

“You know what? We could go back and forth on this till the cows come home,” Tony states. “Let’s get right to the source instead.” He turns to her with a smirk and anticipation clear in his eyes. “Ready for it, Stark? Question of the hour…” the anticipation builds. “Who is your favorite Avenger?”

She lets the question hang in the air for a second, taking the time to leisurely sip her drink. 

But then she looks up at him between her lashes and says, “Sorry, handsome.”

Steve, as expected, is gracious in his defeat. His head falls, as if he’d seen this coming a mile away, but he doesn’t quit smiling. She apologises to him silently with her eyes, and he forgives her all the same. 

Tony, however, is anything but gracious in his presumed victory. 

“Before you start celebrating—it’s not you either, dickhead,” she speaks up, putting a damper on Tony’s celebration howl. 

He turns to face her instantly, “Then who the fuck is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Y/n asks, only to be met with silence. So, she answers her own question, “It’s Widow.”

“Out of pocket shit,” Rhodey reiterates, with a winning grin.

“Bullshit!” Tony slumps. “That’s a diplomatic answer you just made up, to avoid picking between the two of us,” he says, pointing from himself to Steve.

Y/n makes a face, “You wish.” Her tone is standoffish enough to get Tony off her back immediately. She takes another sip of her drink, having accomplished that goal. “She’s the only woman on the team and she’s one who keeps all you miscreants in check… which while not an easy feat, is not why she’s my favorite Avenger.”

“Alright,” Sam chimes in. “I’ll bite,” he announces, as if he’s volunteering to be the sacrificial lamb. “Why is she your favorite Avenger?”

She smiles. “You boys…” she begins. “You had greatness thrust upon you…” she looks around the room, just for good measure. “She stole it.” She takes another swig—takes her time with it too. “Please understand,” she begins, meaning every word, “I’m not trying to negate the fact that you guys had to go through some real fucking horrible shit to get to where you are today. I’m not just proud, but grateful to be associated with each and every single person in this room.” She needs to make sure that they mean it, so she pauses to let them soak in the words. And then adds, “But she’s different.” 

She clicks her tongue, “I mean, she’s done her fair share of bad things. I’ve read her files and man, it’s really not good—some of it is bordering on grotesque. Frankly, I am surprised they didn’t redact more shit then they already had—”

She’s cut off by the voice of someone clearing their throat.

Her eyes fly to meet the offending party only to come up with a smile.

Natasha’s looking at her intently, face completely and utterly unreadable.

“But,” Y/n says then. “But…” She licks her lips, and straightens, and addresses Natasha directly when she begins anew, “To be able to face your past… to look back at your history, so marred and maimed by your misdeeds… and then to say ‘To hell with it. I am going to be good, now’, that—that takes the kind of courage that only someone with balls of steel could accomplish.” Her smile slips out, she can’t help it.

When she looks around, the rest of the team is smiling too. 

She composes herself. “The way I see it… being good—is not inherent…” Her eyes meet Steve’s as she adds with a smirk, “Unless you’re Steve fucking Rogers…” Steve smiles back at her. “It’s a choice you make,” she states, tone far more grim, a stark contrast to the one she’s used thus far. “Every single day, with every single decision.” She swallows thickly with the weight of her words. After a beat, she scoffs—a little self-deprecatingly, “So, I’m not gonna sit here and say being good is easy—it really fucking isn’t, especially when it counts.” She knows that just as well, if not better than most of the people in this room. “But it is easier when you’ve been taught the difference between right and wrong,” she tells all of them. “She wasn’t. She chose to learn it, all by her lonesome… and then she stuck to it… And that is why, she is my favorite Avenger.”

There is a stunned yet warm silence in the room.

She can tell that everyone’s taking in her words, running it in their heads again, just to grasp it better. So, she lets it hang.

Tony, obviously, is the one who breaks it, “My God, that was a great answer. I—I mean, fuck! That was eloquent and emotional and very well thought out, and now I just feel like an asshole.”

“Don’t have to feel like an asshole, Stark,” she says leaning back into her chair. “You already are one.”

Tony just rolls her eyes at that. “Eat a dick, Halle Berry.”

She chuckles at that.

“I don’t mean this as an insult but,” Bruce pipes up, “I’ve never seen you like this before. I didn’t think you could…” He cuts himself off, clearly at a loss for the right word.

“Emote?” She supplies.

“Yes,” Bruce agrees immediately.

She snorts. “Yeah, well. I can…”

“Just takes a few drinks for her to get there,” Tony adds on with a cheeky smile as he comes to sit opposite to her on the couch next to Steve.

Clint’s instantly on alert. He pretends to cover his mouth and whisper-yells at Sam, “Get the woman a refill!” Sam, always happy to have a big emotional moment, obliges eagerly. It makes her roll her eyes with a smile. “Hey, Y/n?”

“Yes, Clint?”

“What do you think of me?”

The question shocks her a bit, she won’t lie. Clint and her interactions have been few and far between. She’s not holding that against the dude as such, seeing as the only time they ‘hang out’ is during a mission. It is a fucking fact. She can’t run away from it either.

“You really wanna know, Barton?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?” Clint throws back at her while Sam offers him a fresh glass, a repeat of her drink.

With a wordless thanks bid to Sam she turns back to look at Clint.

And she can tell, he’s expecting something standoffish. A joke, maybe? But yeah, she can tell he thinks it’ll be a throwaway compliment at best and a complete dismantling of his worst habits at worst. 

Well, isn’t it great then that she absolutely loves proving people wrong.

She sits up again, “No one asked you to do this.” The statement kicks the smug look off of his face instantly. Fucker, she thinks to herself, a little triumphantly. “You spent a long time in Black Ops, so taking up the S.H.I.E.L.D. gig would have been an easy choice, but no one ever asked you to go fight aliens.” She almost jumps in her seat, her words emphatic, “Especially, when their leader had mindfucked you seven ways to Sunday! No one would have held it against you if you decided to just take a day.” She clicks her tongue, “But you didn’t. You got back up and you fought fucking aliens.” She looks him straight in the eyes, “You’re just a man, Barton, and you fight with Gods… to most people that makes you a hero, but to me that makes you a terrifying role model.” Y/n can clearly see the moment that the words hit Clint with their full force. She thinks she can even see his chest cave with the weight of them. “You keep this team grounded. You keep ‘em human. You keep ‘em together.”

Silence.

For a second.

Then another.

And then, “Fuck!” Clint exclaims. “I mean… No, yeah. I mean, fuck. Cause, fuck!” Y/n laughs. “I thought you didn’t even like me.”

Her face falls instantly. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I like you?”

“I don’t know?” Clint defends, poorly. “You don’t talk to me.”

Her nose scrunches up. “No, you don’t talk to me.”

“I talk to you plenty!”

“You really don’t,” Natasha chimes in, looking at Clint over the top of her beer bottle.

“I don’t?” Clint looks around the room for an answer. And everyone replies promptly by either looking away awkwardly or a stern shake of their heads. “Fuck! I’m sorry. I just thought that you didn’t like me. But… That was—what you said…” Oh shit, the fucker’s about to get serious. His brow is scrunching up. “What you said means a lot to me. Thank you… And I’m sorry. I’m gonna—I’m gonna talk to you more now.”

She tries her best not to laugh as she replies, “Can’t wait.”

“Do Banner next,” Clint says, pointing to Bruce.

“No, no, no, no, no. Don’t drag me into this. This is Barton’s—” Bruce is cut off.

“Too late, Bruce.”

Bruce looks at her and then exhales. “No chance of me getting out of this?”

“None whatsoever,” she tells him solemnly.

“So I have to do this?”

“Unfortunately.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head slightly and finally lets a small smile slip out. “Fine…” He stares her down, “Hit me.”

He’s expecting the worst.

So why not hit him with it?

“You are a monster.”

At that, Bruce physically deflates, he collapses in on himself. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.”

He’s not gonna get off that easy. 

“You went to try and recreate a serum that made Captain America and instead you got turned into a raging, big green guy who has no understanding of ‘tasteful nudity’. Fuck, man. My heart bleeds for your wardrobe alone…” She can hear quiet chuckles from around the room. But then she tilts her head, looking him over. Sensing the shift in her demeanor, Bruce meets her gaze. “Anyone else would have taken it as the hit that it was and gotten… angry.” Bruce smiles at the pun. “Gotten angry at the world, angry at life, angry at everything… And I mean, who the fuck would have blamed you? You had every right to be angry. Because how the fuck is fair to be dealt a hand as shit as that, when they are someone as kind as you?” She thinks her words over, fidgeting with the glass in her hand. “I won’t comment on your struggles with the Hulk, I wasn’t there so it’s not my place. From what little I do know, I can imagine it wasn’t an easy time for you. I can—I can sympathise with that… But you took the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone and moulded it as such that now you use it to help people, to protect them. To be a hero.”

“I’m not—”

She cuts him off again, “I know you don’t see that in yourself, but I do, okay? I look at you and I see a hero. So does everyone else in this room.” She gives Bruce a moment—to look around at his team, who look back at him with the same faith that she’s speaking of. He seems a little too fucking surprised to see it. “And I don’t just mean that as the Hulk. Because you’re not just the green guy.” She levels him with a stern look. “I’m also talking about Banner, the guy with seven fucking PhDs.”

Bruce blushes. 

He stares at his hands as he replies, “Well, Y/n… I really do appreciate the fact that you didn’t forget my seven PhDs.”

She can’t help it, she laughs. So do the rest.

“I know you don’t believe me but—”

Now it’s Bruce who cuts her off. “It’s probably the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Y/n. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She takes a large sip from her drink.

“I volunteer to be next,” Thor speaks up, glass in hand. 

And who is she to say no to that? “As you wish, your highness.” 

“Come on, Little Stark, let’s see what you’ve got.”

She smiles. “This isn’t your fucking planet, dude.” The big man is left confused. It makes her smile widen. “This isn’t your fucking planet, we are not your people, this is not your kingdom. You are neither obligated to fight for us, nor were you asked to… You could have just looked the other way. Ignored your brother’s annoying cry for attention and let this planet fend for itself, but you didn’t. Fuck, more than that, you kept coming—you keep coming back, helping in any way you can to help us fix things, even when it’s not your job to…”

Her eyes turn to his hammer, “That hammer of yours—you say it can only be picked up when you’re worthy, and sure, Odin’s seal of approval on you is great and all but—” her gaze fly up to meet his, “I don’t know him. So—and I mean no offense here—but him saying you’re worthy, means fuckall to me. All I know is that to me, you’re a God because you never turn away from someone asking for help. No matter where you are, no matter who it is—if they ask for a helping hand, they can always, always count on yours. That is what makes you worthy, and what will surely make you a great King.”

Thor sniffles.

He fucking sniffles. 

Her eyes widen in surprise, so much so that she forgets to quip.

“A great King, you say? Well, if that ever happens, remind me to put you in charge of all my public speeches,” he says, eyes a little misty.

“Sure, yeah,” she answers, unsure of herself. “Whatever you want, big guy.” She never thought she was going to make the God of Thunder cry.

“You made the God of Thunder cry!” Sam states, a little astonished.

“I am not crying!”

She ignores Thor completely, “And it’s your turn next, Birdman.”

“What? No! I’m not even an Avenger!” He comes to his seat atop the backrest next to Bruce.

Bullshit.

“How the fuck does that matter when you’re the one I look up the most?” 

Sam clearly wasn’t expecting her to say that. “Me?”

“Yeah, you!” Obviously. She plays with her drink a little, before taking a sip. “You have this infectious optimism about you—that a realist like me—”

“A pessimist like you,” Tony corrects her.

She flips him off, but agrees. “That a pessimist like me should technically hate… But I don’t. I kinda like it, a lot. It’s so fucking contagious that I think might just want to steal it.”

Sam smiles at her then, “I could just teach you, hotshot.”

Sipping her drink, she shakes her head. “If you’re going to teach me anything, teach me about loyalty, cause man! We came knocking on your window, with the entire might of the United States of America’s premiere Intelligence Organisation up our ass,” she points from herself to Steve to Natasha. “And you fucking let us in!” She sits up, folding up one leg under the other. “You didn’t just give us a place to lay low—no! You chose to join the fucking fight! Your first time around as an Avenger and you took down the plan Hydra had been crafting for fifty fucking years!” Sam laughs, partly at her enthusiasm, partly because she can tell he gets what she’s getting at. “That’s some top tier Avenger shit if I’ve ever seen any. Goddamn it, Birdman! Mark my words,” she holds up her glass to him. “You’re gonna take the world by storm… and when you do, I’m gonna go around gloating to anyone who’ll listen that Sam Wilson’s first mission as an Avenger was with me.” She winks at him and takes a swig. “You’ll see.”

Sam chuckles, with his head down and a hint of shyness blooming across his face. “I’ll hand it to ya, hotshot—you’ve got a way with words.” He looks over at the rest of the room, “And y’all had me believe she can’t express herself for shit!”

“That’s cause none of them have ever gotten drunk with her,” Rhodey chimes in.

“But you have, haven’t you, Rhodey?” She asks, on the cusp of slurring. The drink in her hand, the one Sam made, is doing exactly what Clint had hoped it would. “We grew up together, you and I…” Rhodey reacts exactly the way she thought he would, he looks at her with a quiet determination. “Which means you know that I love you, because I’ve told you a million times over. B—but I think I never really told you I respect you. And I do, Rhodes. I respect you more than anyone else in my fucking life. You know that, don’t you?” He nods slowly, with a smile. “I know I fought you tooth and nail when you joined the Air Force but—but you gotta know, it wasn’t because I thought you wouldn’t be brilliant at it. Of course, you would be. I knew that better than anyone. I just…” she licks her lips, afraid of the confession that’s about to come.

“I was being selfish. You weren’t just Tony’s best friend, you’re mine too. And I was fucking terrified of losing my friend, you know?” When she looks at him, he’s already staring back at her with an understanding smile. “It was an asshole move, but now that it’s been a long enough time, I’m gonna pretend that I’m old enough to admit—I have never been more proud to call you my friend, Rhodes. You have always been a hero to me… I’m sorry if I gave the impression otherwise.”

Rhodey doesn’t say anything at first. He just gets up from his seat and walks over to her. And then he kisses the top of her head while pulling her in “Not a damn thing for you to say sorry for, Chef.”

“Thanks, Chef,” she mumbles into the hug he pulls her in. 

“Right back atchya, kid.” He kisses her head again. He’s just about to let go, when Tony rushes over to them and jumps in, hugging them both harder. 

“This is by far the most emotional team building exercise I have ever seen,” Hill speaks up.

Oh, you sweet summer child. “That you’ve ever been a part of,” Y/n corrects her, fighting her way out of the bear hug the two men had engulfed her in. 

“Oh no no no no no.”

“You really thought I’d forget about you, Hill?”

“I am not a part of this,” Hill retorts. “I’m categorically not an Avenger.”

“What the hell is up with you guys and rejecting the Avenger title?” She looks around the room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it’s cursed or something.” She takes a sip of her drink, “Look, Hill, you don’t know very much about me—”

“Apart from the suspicious fact that you’re a lawyer who can kick some serious ass,” Hill provides.

“Apart from that, yes,” she agrees. “So, I’m gonna tell you something—I know everything there is to know about everyone I meet. See, before Howie took me in, life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for me.”

“But it is now, that I’m part of it?” Tony pipes in, without any preamble as he and Rhodey take their previous seats again.

She ignores him, rolling her eyes. “Which kinda gave way to a laundry list of character flaws, one of which was a crippling and annoying amount of trust issues—it led me to develop a habit of digging into the past of anyone I had more than a one minute conversation with… I haven’t just read Nat’s files—I have made one on every single person in this room—including you. Now, the files might not tell me who you are, but as I’ve already stated, I happen to believe that a person is defined by their actions. And holy shit, Hill—you’ve got absolutely no right calling yourself anything less than an Avenger.”

She shifts to the edge of her seat. She can’t get close to Hill, who’s sitting on the floor, on the other side of the table, so this is the best she’s got right about now. “You’re painfully smart and confoundingly determined. You don’t take shit from anyone—not from Fury, not from the billionaire genius and not from the Super Soldier.” She smiles at her then, “And that makes you a fucking badass. And the rest of it? Like the op in Transnistria?” Maria’s eyes widen at the mention of it. Told ya. “In my eyes, shit like that makes you a fucking hero.”

And there it is again.

Silence.

Some more of it.

Hill, herself, is the one who breaks it this time. “Anyone ever tell you, you know too fucking much for a lawyer?”

Chuckling, she slides back into her seat, finishing up her drink. “Only the people who couldn’t afford me.”

She looks over the people in front of her, and she has to end it off on a good note, doesn’t she? “With all that said and done, I need you crazy kids to know that I meant it with every fiber of my being when I said that I’m grateful to be associated with every single one of you… but I will charge you all my entire hourly rate for every single litigation you get me and yourself trapped in. And I am very expensive.”

Everyone breaks into a laugh.

Well, everyone except Tony.

“Hold on, aren’t you forgetting someone?” Tony asks. When all he gets in response is a cocked brow from her, he points from himself to Steve. “What? Me and the Capsicle don’t get a heart to heart from Miss Summa Cum Laude Y/n Stark? How’s that fair?”

“You really want me to sit here and wax poetic about the two of you?” 

“Why not?” Steve asks, with a cheeky grin.

“Really? That’s what you want?”

“As the old man said, why not?” Tony doubles down, kicking back with his feet.

“Cause you’re the two men I lov—care about most in the whole world,” she states. Fuck. Almost fucked that up, colossally. “You want a public proclamation of it now?”

Steve smiles at her, “Maybe we do, doll.” 

Meanwhile, Tony takes this moment to stare at her and mouth the word ‘care’ like a fucking insult. The motherfucker is mocking her, giggling and snickering like a third grader and Y/n can’t even do anything about it. Cause Steve’s already looking at her, and if she gives in now, there’d be hell for her to pay. 

She’ll get back at her brother some other fucking time. 

“Fine,” she says, just to get Tony to stop. “Let’s start with you, shall we, Cap?”

Steve gets comfortable in his seat. “Let’s hear it, doll.”

And fine. If he’s gonna be cocky about it, it’s only fair for her to make him eat his shit-eating grin. 

Ignoring Tony’s knowing gaze, she lets herself relax in her chair.

“Steven Grant Rogers, the man out of time,” she begins. “You know, I have been hearin’ tall tales about you since I was a fucking teenager. All these stories of the great Captain America, the soldier, the righteous man… the hero. I heard all about your adventures and your bravery, your crazy, damn near impossible mission, in the face of great, undefeatable odds… And you know what I thought?” Steve quirks his brow. “I thought, what a steaming hot load of bullshit!” Everyone laughs, but Tony’s sounds out the loudest, obviously. “They’d talk about you like you were this great, ineffable being—not even human. To them, you were larger than life. And I’d think what motherfucking horseshit!” She plays with the empty glass in her hand.

“I’m not saying they were lying but—” She shrugs. “Howie was always an unreliable narrator, and the rest of them were probably just caught up in the Captain America of it all…” But then… “But then I met you and suddenly,” she tongues her cheek, “it all made sense…” Steve’s smile falls away and gives way to a sort of startling realization. “It made sense that Howard Stark—a man who had very little faith in humanity—didn’t just talk about you like a friend, or like a hero, but like someone he aspired to be. It made sense then, that Peggy Carter…” His eyes shine and ears perk up at the mention of her name, “Fell in love with you.” She can feel the weight of Tony's gaze on her, telling her silently to not give away too much, to not reveal more than she had, to not dwell on this one particular topic. She gives in to her brother’s silent plea. “Even before the serum, you always fought for a choice, and made the right one when you got it, no matter how hard it was.” She exhales heavily.

“You fight for what is right, damn the consequences. You fight true and you fight hard.” She smiles a little then, “Now, I won’t go as far as to say that you’re some ineffable being, because you’re not. You’re a man, and you make mistakes. But—but from what I understand, the true character of a man is how he acts when faced with those mistakes. How he works to rectify them.” She’s a little shy about it when she says, “And I think I can say this now—I know you. The Steve Rogers behind the Captain America of it all… So, please understand that I mean it when I say—You’re a good man in a storm.”

She pauses so the words can hit as hard as she wants them to. And they do. Steve, her Steve does the thing he does when he feels overwhelmed, he sits up straighter and broadens his shoulder—like he’s being awarded a medal. “And while, it a fucking honor getting to share a battlefield with you, I will maintain to my dying day,” her smile slips out, “that getting to call you mine is a far bigger accomplishment.”

For a second, she thinks Steve’s malfunctioned.

“I think you broke him,” Natasha comments, and fuck she has to agree.

“Is he breathing?” Clint asks, sounding genuinely worried.

“I—” Tony turns to look at Steve whose eyes are set on her. “I don’t think so.” He begins clicking his finger in front of Steve’s face. “Hey? Hey, Steve? Anyone in there?” Steve doesn’t even fucking blink.

“Stop that!” Hill reprimands him by throwing a stray popcorn kernel at Tony. Who does stop but looks at her, offended.

“Rogers? Are you with us?” Thor questions from his seat.

“I think we should check his pulse,” Bruce states, leaning forward with creased brows.

“I don’t know, doesn’t it feel like if you touch him, he’ll—spontaneously combust into flames?” Rhodey wonders aloud.

“I’m with Rhodey on this one, give him a second. He’s just rebooting,” Sam suggests.

“Or maybe the years just caught up to him,” Tony retorts. “I think the old man’s a goner.” He turns to Y/n and says, “I think you killed your dear boyfriend, Stark—”

Before Tony can finish, Steve’s on his knees, in front of her in the blink of an eye.

“Steve—”

She’s cut off mid-sentence, swallowed by the delightfully crushing weight of a 6-foot-something Super Soldier as Steve Rogers closes the space between them in a kiss that feels like reverence made tangible.

He’s on his knees before her—not in surrender, but in devotion. His hands, strong, battle-worn, are impossibly gentle as they frame her face, thumbs brushing reverently along her cheekbones like he’s committing her to memory. Like she’s something holy.

The kiss itself is deliberate, deep, but never demanding. His lips press against hers with an almost aching care, a silent whisper of gratitude, of thanks that he cannot express with words, something dangerously close to worship. It’s not about hunger. It’s about feeling. About letting her know that he heard her, and he was rendered speechless with the weight of her words.

Her hands sink into his hair, nails dragging lightly against his scalp, and he shudders. Shudders.

A man who has stood unshaken in the face of war, of gods, of the end of the world—and yet here he is, kneeling, unraveling, offering himself up at the altar of her.

The world around them still moves—distant voices, the soft creak of leather beneath her, their friends wolf whistles and crass comments at the overt display—but it doesn’t touch them. Steve kisses her like she’s the only thing that has ever truly mattered. Like she’s the one thing he ever got without having to fight with his entire might for.

When he finally pulls back, just barely, his forehead resting against hers, his breath is warm, uneven, filled with something raw. His fingers trail down her arms, tracing paths that feel like promises.

“Had to do that,” he murmurs, voice rough, a prayer in itself. “Hope you don’t mind.”

She exhales, a slow, wrecked thing, and tightens her grip in his hair. Like she’d ever let him go. “Don’t mind at all, handsome.” She kisses him once again. Quick and short.

“Thank you,” he says then, kissing her cheek. “You don’t know how much—thank you.”

And that makes her roll her eyes, because what the fuck does he have to thank her for? 

“Go back to your seat, handsome. Before this becomes something less appropriate for public consumption.” She pushes him off. “Come on. Get away from me!”

Laughing, Steve obliges.

“Well, that got real steamy, real quick,” Tony comments, a little too cheeky for her liking.

Their eyes meet and she hums softly. Looking at the last vestiges of liquor in the glass in her hand, she says slowly, “I guess this brings me to you—” she looks up at him, “Anthony Edward Stark… the boy who saved me.”

No one else in the room understands the connotation of the words, the weight behind them, except the two of them. It makes the cunning smile from Tony’s face fall away. He didn’t see this shift in her tone coming. He didn’t think she’d reveal herself like this, not even this tiny bit. He sobers immediately.

And fuck, we can’t have that.

She turns to the crowd then, “When Tony was younger…” She shakes her hand in casual estimation, “12, I think?” She nods to herself, satisfied with her guess. “Howie shipped him off to boarding school after he broke some rule or another. Doesn’t matter.” She dismisses out of hand, because it truly doesn’t. “Now, what you gotta know about Tony, is that he was a late bloomer.” Snickers sound out from around the room. 

“Thanks, Stark,” Tony admonishes her with no real heat.

She smiles, and corrects herself, “Not like that, I meant he was small for his age.” She pulls up her hand to her head to indicate his height. “He also cried a lot.” She shakes her head with fondness of the little Tony Stark in her memory. “I mean, I could make him cry by just calling him an asshole—he cried a lot.” She chuckles, Tony does too. “And… there is no nice way to say this… um, all that made him pretty fucking easy to pick on.”

Her smile fades as she continues, “So, when he would call me every night from the boarding school to tell me about his day… I knew he’d been crying.” She grits her teeth. “He wouldn’t say anything, of course. He would—he’d quip and crack jokes, and bitch about the classes and the teachers. He would act like everything was dandy—like everything was fine for a genius, scared little boy, at a school full of dickhead rich kids, who were taught by their parents to make everyone who was different feel lesser than…” She bites the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from breaking. “I’d ask him, again and again, ‘What’s wrong, Tones? Tell me what’s wrong, and we’ll fix it, together.’” She shakes her head, “He wouldn’t fess up. He’d say, ‘Everything’s fine, Y/n. Quit bein’ a worry wart.’ He’d act like everything was okay… But I could tell. ‘Course I could…”

She runs a hand through her hair, and exhales slowly, mustering up a smile. “So, imagine my surprise when I get a call one day and this fucker is just vibrating with pure excitement.” Her smile grows, as she puts a hand to her ear, imitating a phone. “‘What is it, Tones? What happened?’” She laughs a little. “‘I made a friend’ he said. ‘I made a friend, his name is Wallace! He just got transferred here from Hudson. You wanna talk to him?’ Of course I did!” Everyone else in the room matches her smile with their own brilliant ones. “So I’m talking to Wallace and fuck, a great kid! Apparently he was like a mini Thor?” She points at the God of thunder who looks like he’s a minute away from swooning. “Pretty big for his age?” She nods to herself. “Not the smartest kid you’ll ever meet, but he was kind. You know?” Everyone nods in unison, making her smile wider.

“So, I’m excited, Tony is clearly very excited, and now fucking Wallace is excited. We’re fucking brimming with it.” She slows down then, brings her hand to her lips and fidgets with them. “But then… the next night, I’m waiting by the phone for three hours, I don’t get a call.” Suddenly the tone in the room shifts. “It’s ass o’clock at night, I barge into Howie’s study and I pester the shit outta him for like two hours straight till he calls the School to check in on Tony. When he finally does, they tell us it’s all peachy. They tell us Tony’s asleep, safe and sound in his bed.” She sits up, “Of course, I don’t buy that, but he is safe. So, who knows? Maybe he had a rough day. Maybe he needed a night—some space to gather himself and he’ll tell me all about it tomorrow.” She hits the back of her hand into her palm. “But tomorrow night comes, and again—I don’t get a call.” She leans forward, just to bask in the curiosity that everyone’s wearing on their faces right now.

“Now that’s fucking suspicious.” She sits up straight then, “But I gotta play my cards right. I can’t wake up Howard again and light a fire under his ass. If anything had happened to Tony the school would have been obligated to call—Can’t afford to upset the guy who’s funding their new science wing. So, I gotta play it smart, I can’t be the boy who cried wolf.” She shrugs, “I gotta wait it out. Wait for him to call me tomorrow.” She pauses for a second, letting the suspense build. “Cut to—next night. No call.” She throws up her hands, and eases back into her seat.

“Means, it’s DEFCON 1. I am now screaming at the top of my lungs, telling Howard to call the School and check in on Tony. He’s yelling right back at me—telling me I’m overreacting. And fuck that. ‘I know Tony! I know my brother, Howard! And I am telling you, something is really fucking wrong! Just call the school, goddamn it!’” Her hands are flying everywhere as she enacts the entire scene out. “In the middle of all this, Maria walks in—and then shit hits the fucking fan. Now it’s Howie against me and Maria,” she enunciates with her hand. “The entire Stark Household is a fucking battlefield. Bullets are flying everywhere—curses the likes of which you have never heard. I have the telephone in my hand,” she begins acting out her words once again, “and I’m about to hurl that shit at Howard’s head so fucking hard, if he doesn’t make the goddamn call—” her voice quiets suddenly, “that we almost miss it when it rings.” Everyone’s suddenly on alert.

Her voice remains soft as she continues, with only a hint of a smile, “Now, we’ve made such a big, fat fuss about the whole thing, that even Howie’s on edge. He picks up the phone before it even has a chance to ring a second time.” She brings her hand to her face, taking a second before she breaks the suspense. “It’s the school,” she tells them. “Tony Stark has been expelled from their fine establishment for using household appliances to electrocute the shit out of the Mayor’s son.” She smiles proud and wide.

She shrugs, “Now, he’s not a violent kid, so why would he go and do that?” She gives them all a pause to guess, but it’s a rhetorical question and everyone treats it as such. “‘Cause of the bullying? Come on. He’d been living with that shit for a year—he didn’t break. So why now?” She hopes her face reflects the pride she feels inside when she says, “It’s ‘cause the douchebag had gone after Wallace.”

When she looks around at the room, everyone’s eyes have gotten a new kind of reverence as they look at her brother.

So she looks at him too. “When you came back from your God awful vacation in the desert and told me you wanted to be a hero, you might have thought of it as a career pivot—but to me… It was a prophecy coming true.” She can tell he’s trying really fucking hard not to cry. “Natasha Romanoff is my favorite Avenger, but you are my favorite fucking superhero, Tony Stark. Always have been, always will be.”

Just as Y/n makes her grand proclamation, Tony abruptly gets to his feet and turns away from the group. His hands rise to his face, fingers pressing against his eyes. She knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Tony?” Natasha calls out, her voice deceptively sweet. “Are you—Tony.”

“Is he crying?” Clint asks, slowly.

“He’s crying,” Rhodey confirms, deadpan.

“Absolutely not!” Tony snaps, but the slight waver in his voice betrays him.

Y/n grins and pushes up from her chair. “Told you it was easy to make him cry,” she announces, strolling over to him.

Tony turns away further, as if sheer willpower will keep his dignity intact. It won’t. Y/n doesn’t care. She wraps her arms around him from the side, her grip firm. “Old habits die hard, don’t they, Stark?” she teases, her voice warm. To make sure he knows she means no harm, she tightens her hold and presses a loud, obnoxious kiss to the side of his head.

“Shut up! It’s your fault!” Tony grumbles, but the sniffling ruins any heat behind it.

She chuckles, rubbing his arms in slow, comforting circles. “You’re the one who wanted me to wax poetic about you.”

“Not this poetic,” he gripes.

“Well, tough luck, genius,” she scolds, lighthearted. “You’re stuck with this—with me, I’m afraid. I’m right behind you, always.”

Tony turns so fast she barely has time to register it before she’s got an armful of Iron Man, holding onto her like she’s his last tether.

“Woah, woah—” she stumbles, unprepared for the sudden weight, but then there’s a steadying hand at the small of her back.

Steve.

With his support, she regains her footing and tightens her grip around Tony, holding onto her brother just as fiercely as he’s holding onto her.

“You’re my favorite too,” Tony whispers in her ear, just for her to hear and no one else. “I need you to know that. You’re my fucking favorite superhero too.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she just kisses his head again and again and again. “Now, get off me you, damn, koala bear!” She pushes him off, not unkindly. “Okay,” she turns to the crowd, "I've hit my yearly quota for feelings in one night. If we don't change the topic soon, I might just self-destruct out of sheer principle.” Clasping the hand Steve has on the small of her back with her own, she looks over the room.

Steve takes the chance and pulls her onto his lap. She yelps in surprise, but he just wraps his hands around her, kissing her neck.

She’s just about to smooch the living shit out of her boyfriend when Clint, sensing the perfect moment to ruin everything, loudly announces, “Well, that was horrifying. I need something aggressively stupid to cleanse my brain.”

“Something not feelings-related,” Tony adds, pointing a warning finger at Y/n like she hasn’t already hit her emotional quota for the year.

Natasha smirks. “Like what? Another round of Guess What’s Gonna Kill Tony First?”

“First of all—rude,” Tony says. “Second, we all know it’s either gonna be my own brilliance or Steve’s disappointment.”

“I never said I was disappointed in you,” Steve says.

“You didn’t have to.”

Rhodey claps Tony on the shoulder. “I’m still putting money on ‘blows himself up doing something unnecessarily dramatic.’”

“Please,” Sam waves him off. “We’ve all got money on that.”

Bruce sighs. “At this point, it’s basic statistics.”

Tony hands shoot up to his chest, and onto his heart, he feigns injury and dramatically gasps like he’s been shot. “Et tu, Bruce?” To that Bruce just laughs in response, shaking his head.

“The only way Tony gets to die is peacefully in his sleep, at the ripe old age of 99!” Y/n announces to the room, ending all scope for argument. It’s a sore subject for her and no one but Tony knows the extent of that. “We’re not playing that morbid fucking game ever again!”

Natasha throws her hands up in surrender. “My bad.” Everyone else too has the decency to look admonished, except Tony who looks at her with fairly well hidden mild concern.

“So, what’s our options here?” Hill chimes in, dissipating the slight tension. “Bar fight? Competitive arson?”

“Something legal,” Bruce interjects quickly, because he knows this group too well.

Sam gestures at Y/n. “Can we get a ruling on what constitutes ‘legal’ in this room?”

She smirks, tilting her glass toward him. “Technically, nothing we do holds up in court.”

“Cleared by the legal department!” Tony declares.

Steve mutters, “I should be more concerned about that than I am,” dropping another kiss on her shoulder.

She throws her head back, chuckling, and kisses his temple in return.

Clint leans forward, rubbing his hands together. “You wanna talk about legal precedent? Let’s talk about divine precedent.” He jerks his chin toward the center of the room, where Mjolnir sits, unassuming and waiting.

Y/n raises an eyebrow. “You’re not seriously about to bring Thor’s hammer into this.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.” Clint gestures at Thor, eyes narrowing. “Let’s discuss the so-called worthiness clause. By whose standards? Who enforces it? And most importantly—” He leans in. “Who’s to say you’re not just screwing with us?”

Thor pulls out the flask of that good fucking Asgardiaun stuff from his pocket and pours some into his drink. “Ah, Barton, your skepticism wounds me,” but the laugh that follows, renders the sentiment in the words irrelevant.

Clint gestures dramatically at the hammer, spinning the drumstick in his hand, looking around the room like he’s about to expose the world’s greatest con. “But, it’s a trick!”

“Oh no. It’s much more than that,” Thor counters easily, while passing the flask to Steve who takes a swig.

Oh, this is going to be so fucking good.

“Ah, ‘whosoever be he worthy, shall haveth the power!’ Whatever, man! It’s a trick.”

Read the next part here. Find the Static Verse Masterlist here. Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

[finnglas]

That pride story is the fakest and stupidest shit I've ever heard. Why were you at ex-gay therapy if your parents were supportive enough to go to pride with you? Did everyone clap? Inquiring minds want to know!

I started to just delete and block this because I don’t owe anything to people who aren’t engaging in good faith, but I did want to talk about the question in the middle here, because it doesn’t fit a mainstream narrative, and I think sometimes it helps people to know about stuff like that. Hey, it’s Pride month. Let’s talk about self identity.

I voluntarily put myself through ex-gay therapy. My parents didn’t even know about it. I was living independently before I realized I was same-sex attracted, and I had been raised religiously. My first context for gayness was hearing church leaders and extended family members talking about the AIDS crisis as God’s punishment for homosexuality. Turns out my parents were always uncomfortable with that framework but were afraid to voice dissent because that’s how the evangelical Christianity cult works. Since I didn’t know they felt differently, I didn’t realize I was allowed to doubt it, either.

So when I, a young adult of about 19, realized that I was same sex attracted, I panicked and went to a church leader. They advised therapy. Mine was pretty mild; no shock chairs or anything like that. Just a weekly meeting with a church counselor who checked in with me about how I was “doing.” It doesn’t sound traumatic. It was mostly in how much I hated myself for not being able to just be good. If God wanted me to be straight and I wanted me to be straight then why couldn’t I just be straight!? And as mild and non traumatic as it was, it was still a trigger for suicidal thoughts and ideations and eventually impulses. It led to a lot of unsafe behaviors as I kept denying myself safe and healthy outlets until things finally manifested in bursts of impulsive, compulsive decisions and whole days and nights I can’t even remember from the emotional trauma. I started thinking, if I can’t stop this sinful behavior, maybe I should just die.

And then I read a book. I don’t even know how I found it, it was shelved with the Christian nonfiction in a bookstore I was browsing while trying to get my head on straight. It’s called Stranger at the Gates: to be Gay and Christian in America, and it’s by Mel White. (A lovely human, I actually got to meet him in Berkeley, California, and let him know his book played a big part in saving my life.) I read that book, and I thought — he did all the things I was too scared to do. He did electric shock therapy. He got married and had kids. He put himself through so much more than I did, and if HE couldn’t make himself be straight, what hope did I have? And maybe my church was wrong about the whole thing! After all, the church had a long history of being wrong about things. Geocentrism, left handedness, forks. Maybe they were wrong about same sex attraction too.

Anyway, that was the start of my journey out of about four years of voluntary self hatred. And when I talked to my parents about it, it turned out that they were A) primed to doubt the church because of their own experiences and B) willing to put their love for me as their child over their initial doubt and questioning of my decisions. My mom got on board first. It took my dad a little longer—he kept doing the “well, I don’t really get it, but you’re my kid and that’s what matters” thing for a few more years. (He finally got it.)

Anyway, I’m sorry that you’ve allowed your life to bring you to a point of cynicism where you’re afraid to take a stranger’s quite believable life anecdote at face value without lashing out at them about it on the internet to be sure nobody thinks you’re gullible enough to believe that *checks notes* someone didn’t understand a visual pun and was surprised when their parent used crude language to explain the pun to them. It’s okay if you allow a little happiness into your life via narrative every now and then, I promise. And as someone who spent several years hating myself and acting out because of it, I hope you find your peace and joy soon. Life is a lot better on the other side of bitterness.

Happy Pride!

[misfitwashere]

TIMOTHY SNYDER

APR 10

READ IN APP

Trump has an obvious weakness that makes America weak. He places the American economy at risk for the sake of a personal foible, a visible vulnerability.

All his adult life, Trump has been ripping people off. That is his modus operandi. Rather than a conscience, he has the habit of displacement. It is not that he is ripping people off. Everyone else is ripping him off.

As he has aged this has grown into an vulnerability. He actually seems to believe that everyone is ripping him off. He makes no distinction between himself and the government. And he has no grasp of how any significant policy actually works. This means that anyone who has access to him and understands his vulnerability can generate a self-destructive American policy.

An easy example of this, before the tariffs, was Ukraine. Somewhere Trump got the idea that Ukraine was ripping off the United States. And once the idea was in his head, he was its slave. He kept repeating that the Ukraine owed the United States $350 billion.

This made no sense. The assistance in question was aid, not a loan. The value of the aid was about a third of what Trump claimed. Most of the military aid came in the form of spending inside the United States. And of course the Ukrainians have paid. They have fulfilled the entire NATO mission by themselves in holding off a Russian attack. They have suffered enormous losses of all kinds. And they have shared intelligence and innovations with the United States. But none of that matters to Trump. Once he is told that he is being ripped off, he is helpless, and others must suffer.

We don't know now, though it is not hard to guess, who told Trump that Ukraine was ripping him off. The Russians have a keen sense of psychological vulnerabilities, and they have been paying close attention to Trump for a long time.

Trump also cites the made-up number of $350 billion to justify tariffs. He claims that Europeans, curiously, somehow "owe" the United States that exact same amount. Trump believes that if Americans buy more from another country than residents of that country buy from us, that is a loss, that he personally is somehow being ripped off. And so when the United States formulated tariffs on the whole world last week, the operating principle was that all trade deficits -- cases where we buy more than we sell -- should be eliminated.

This is nonsensical. There is no state of nature where countries buy and sell the exact same amount from one another.

Imagine a party where people are freely talking to each other. Then someone jumps up on a table and insists that in every conversation each speaker should use the exact same number of words as the person with whom he or she is in dialogue. What would happen then? Every conversation would grind to a halt, because an artificial planned equality of words is not how conversations work. An artificial planned equality of the value of imports and exports is, by the same token, not how trade works.

There is a much injustice in international trade. And there is much to be said for a thoughtful trade policy that protects or encourages certain industries. Manufacturing is of inherent value. But none of this will arise from the hurt feelings of an oligarchical president.

Because Trump's policy is based on personal vulnerability, it is erratic. If someone makes him feel more vulnerable than he was already, he will stop. He will not, for example, impose tariffs on Russia, because he is afraid of Russia. On the other hand, if someone convinces him that he has won, then he will also reduce the tariffs, as has just happened. If he no longer feels that he is being ripped off, then he yields. Until the moment when his feelings change.

To a person which such a obvious vulnerability, everything seems out of control. And so control is the only answer. Everyone is acting to rip me off. And so I must establish control by calling them all out, and making them deal with me from a position of weakness and ridicule. And so now the United States -- so goes the theory - will now negotiate individually with every single country of the world. We have broken agreements with many of them, and now we will sign new agreements, which will probably be worse: we lack time now, and patience, and focus. And we can never get back the trust of our closest trade partners.

The same is true in domestic policy. By establishing the tariffs, Trump thinks that he is creating leverage for himself against American companies. They will all have to come to him personally to seek the "carve-out," the exception, that will allow them to continue to trade in world markets and function as they had before. And so Trump can enjoy feeling less vulnerable as he tries to bully companies. But this amounts to central planning, and of a particularly irrational sort: one that depends upon one man's feelings. Investing inside the United States no longer means what it once did. And this will not quickly change.

We all have our foibles, our whims, our vulnerabilities. But when one person has unchecked power, irrationality becomes unchecked. Donald Trump thinks that everyone is always ripping him off. If he were the president in a normal situation, this would be a minor problem. But in a situation in which he has gotten away with an attempted coup, in which the Supreme Court has told him he is immune from prosecution, in which members of his own party rarely challenge him, in which Congress no longer sees the need to pass laws, and so on, in which too much of the media normalizes him, Trump's vulnerability can bring about the destruction of the country.

We have thousands of years of political theory and indeed great literature to instruct us on this point: too much power brings out the worst in people -- especially among the worst of people. As the founders understood, the purpose of the rule of law, of checks and balances, of regular elections, is to prevent precisely such a situation. Allowing our republic to be compromised has many costs, for example to our rights, and to our dignity. But it also has costs in a very basic economic sense. When you elevate the mad king, you elevate the madness.

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made Of Glass ch.15

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Reader has some decisions to make, Wanda is just confused, and things are finally looking up for the both of them.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 15

From Kamar-Taj

Time didn't stop after Wanda left.

Days and nights came by without any significant changes, the different agencies that had come to help during the dome incident had long gone and you were left alone once more. 

Tony had stayed behind long enough to ensure you and the others would be fine. And Monica had stayed to keep Carol company before going back to her normal duties; life in general went back to what it was.

Like the waters of the ocean surrounding Ulsteinvik, there was only calmness and the people in the city had forgotten and forgiven the small disruption in their lives. You were still as welcome, as the first time you got into the city to help those in need. 

The holidays had been welcomed by the inhabitants of the city with fireworks and a party that lasted a full weekend. You had enjoyed the admiration and sheer happiness on America's face whenever she went from one stand of food to the other, when she got in contact with teens her age and soon found herself living a life she hadn't enjoyed so far.

A bell sounded to your left, the door of the restaurant opened with a twirl of cold wind sneaking inside the place. You shifted on the chair leaning against the wall, your eyes following with amusement the discussion America started with Yelena. 

“She is unbelievable, you would think she is the same age as America.” Natasha snorted when Yelena slapped the table pointing to the street, soon the both of them left to prove a point missed by you and Natasha.

“I think they like to mess with one another far too much.” You shrugged, grabbing the glass of wine you had been drinking and taking another ling sip. 

It wasn't until then you noticed you had been left alone with Natasha. The Widow smirked, quivering a brow at you, her hands placing themselves on the table with her eyes never leaving yours, you knew what was about to come. For more than two weeks everyone had been trying to get a hold of you and the letter and know exactly what the young witch had said to you.

So far, you had been successful in pretending that letter never happened, making sure you were never alone with Natasha or Yelena.

“Well, are you going to tell me?” Natasha asked, leaning back on the chair, her clear eyes studying you. “Whatever it was, it really had an effect on you. Should I be worried?”

You exhaled placing your closed hands on the table, the steam coming from your mug covering your chin. Natasha scrutinised your posture and your facial expressions, it was something she had been doing in the last couple of weeks knowing that whatever had happened with Wanda was still affecting you in ways you didn't want to. You had been standing on the outlines, trying to disappear behind your shadows while zoning out whenever everyone was sharing light conversation at the dinner table or a mission was being shared. 

“Wanda told me what she did after the funeral,” you started the story, your head tilting to the side while your hand made a gesture to the waitress for the woman to bring another round of coffee.

“It is a rather long story, Tasha.” You smiled when the other woman raised a single eyebrow at you.

“So I see, I'm going to finally get the full story? The real one?”

You chuckled, shrugging while taking a long sip from the cup.

“She went back to the compound, went through my room until she came across the small trunk I kept in the wardrobe.”

You could see as realisation hit Natasha in a second, her eyes went wide with a slack jaw marked by the disbelief of what Wanda found inside that place. You nodded smiling bitterly at her 

“Yeah, she found everything and then, she just wanted to see Westview and the area where the place was supposed to be.”

From there you told Natasha everything you heard from Wanda and whatever blank spaces you filled in with some digging. You knew Tony had helped Wanda at some point, then she was contacted by Strange to help with the case of America which led her to your doorstep. Even after that, it was obvious something had happened, and that was the moment in which Agatha entered the story.

Agatha had worked in the shadows lurking Wanda to the spot she had been looking for I'm Westview. She had made it possible for Wanda to break down, with the enchantment she had placed before Wanda's arrival, she had worked her way into the fantasy guaranteeing that she could control some aspects of the fantasy.

Pietro and Vision had been some of them.

“Do you believe them?” Natasha finally asked, she squinted her eyes reading your reaction at her question. “It sounds convenient that Agatha could only bring dead people, so Visions being there was a coincidence meant to manipulate you. Convenient.”

The door of the café opened and closed again, the conversation around your table was suddenly louder than it had been moments ago. You scolded thinking over what Natasha was just saying, it was something you had thought but it was far too elaborate for Wanda to just make it up.

Right?

Besides, Agatha did admit to the manipulation. Your eyes hardened, you clenched your jaw tilting your head until your eyes focused on the world outside. Whatever doubts growing in your mind stopped when you remember childish laughter and then non-stop babbling from the twins.

“They look like me.” You mumbled turning to Natasha. “You should have seen them, Tasha. Billy and Tommy have some resemblance to me and Wanda, their eyes, the colour of the hair, the smile, some mannerisms…”

“Is this why you have been acting weird since you came back?” Natasha leaned over the table, she didn't miss your behaviour in the last couple of weeks her concern for you had been latent at all times but she had always respected your space allowing you to just come to her to talk.

You purse your lips grabbing a napkin, the frown deepened with your eyes flickering between confusion and nostalgia.

“Partially.” 

It was so easy to pretend you were still angry at hurt by what happened ten years ago, to just turn your back on the young woman you had met on a mission angry and scared that ended up becoming your life. Never before or after her did you feel the same for anyone, not even Carol. And when Wanda came back, hurt, scared, tired and asking for help your heart trembled with the same love you thought you had buried in the past. 

But love was not enough.

“She is still in love with you.” It was a statement, Natasha drank her tea glancing out of the window. “I don't think she never stopped loving you.”

“Love is for children.” You smirked amused by the roll of Natasha's eyes.

“True, but sometimes love should be enough.”

“It's never enough.” You leaned back scratching the back of your neck. “I could experience first hand what it would be like to be with her.”

Natasha softened at your words, she heard as you narrated every single detail of what you lived in the other universe. How you became a parent to the children that seemed to love you even though you were a different mom to them. How your other self would glance at Wanda and how that Wanda would look at you.

For the first time ever since everything happened you opened up about your fears, your hopes, and your wishes. It hadn't been easy to come to the conclusion of what you really desired, of what you really needed. But, here you were, pouring your heart out to Natasha, the only woman apart from Yelena that could beat some sense into you.

“What did the letter say?” Natasha finally asked, you hesitated before putting the letter from your pocket and handing it to the other woman.

“That love should be enough to start again.” You replied, focusing your attention on the people walking down the street. Natasha concentrated,reading the letter left by Wanda on the day she went away. 

Dear Y/N,

I’m not good with words, and I don't even know how to say everything I wish to tell you. My words had been trapped inside my head for over a decade, and I wasn't sure if approaching you with them was a wise thing to do. I knew of your anger towards me, and I knew you were probably feeling a hatred I didn't want to see in your eyes. I just couldn't deal with you not looking at me with love and happiness, the way it used to be.

I made many mistakes. But the biggest one was to let you go.

I asked for forgiveness once, but I wanted to say it once more.

Please, my love, forgive my weakness and my indecision. I should have never acceded to what was easy, to what my parents would have wanted, to what everyone was expecting of me. I know this doesn't make it any less stupid or hurtful, and that I should have never hurt you in such a way.

You are my world, and ever since you’ve been gone I have been so lost.

But I push myself to continue because I cannot give up, I have to discover my worth to be able to reach out to you once more.

I don't want to keep going knowing you are out there and that I am not with you, and I don't want to live with the past above my shoulders afraid of at least tried to be with you. After what we lived in these last week's I realized, I don't want to.

I understand if you are no longer interested, and that you already have someone else in your life. If that's the case, I would step aside but be there for you as a friend.

If not, then…I won't give up on you. I love you, I am still so much in love with you that sometimes it is hard to breathe and my chest twisted painfully knowing you and I could be…in another time, in another universe.

I will leave, not because I want to, but because I need to.

But I will wait for you, if this is what you want.

Love should be enough for now, right? This time around I promise you I won't let you go without a fight, my heart is already yours, Y/N, it has been for more than a decade. Please, just…give us a chance.

With love,

Wanda M.

Silence followed Natasha just as she placed the letter on the table. The only sounds breaking into their shared space were those of cutlery and low conversation in other tables, everyone was oblivious to what the two women had been sharing and even the weight of the circumstances leading them to the situation they were in at the moment.

You rested your chin on the back of your hand, your eyes dancing around the streets following patterns with your mind going back to the letter. You had learnt it's contents a long time ago, ever since Yelena gave you the letter. 

“The only one that can do something about this is you, you know that, right?”

“I know.” You faced Natasha, your lips curving upwards. 

“I've been with you all this time, Y/N.” Natasha chose her words with care, never once letting go of your stare. “I've seen the good and the bad, I've seen you fighting against your own pain and becoming the woman you are right now…and I have seen Wanda as well, she wasn't as lucky as you were.”

“I know.” You whispered, Natasha offered a tender smile placing a hand on top of yours. 

“I want you to be happy.” Natasha squeezed your hand winking. “I think it will take time but, perhaps, a friendship is not a bad idea.”

You opened your eyes at those words, your heart leaping inside your chest.

“You think…it is possible?”

“It's what you want, isn't it?”

You didn't answer, but if you were honest with yourself, it was what you wanted and what you had already decided to do. You were still afraid, going back to Wanda would it mean to face a past that was not completely erased and buried, and it was also a chance of falling harder than ever and not being able to go back from these emotions anymore. But, now that you knew what could happen, you couldn't say no to just give her and yourself a chance.

Before anything else could be done or said a tap on the window called your attention, Yelena and America were grinning through the window pointing to some bags they had on their hands. You snorted turning to Natasha who was still looking at you with tenderness.

“I guess we should go.”

“Let's go, the .”

Natasha didn't ask, and you didn't elaborate, but the both of you had come to the same conclusion and now it was a matter of time for you to step into the road leading to Wanda Maximoff.

________

She could hear the shower running, the sound of your voice singing a random song from your playlist. Carol smiled, closing the door of the room behind her, her footsteps taking her to the bed where she saw your clothes scattered around the bed. The blond-haired woman went to pick them up, thinking about the domesticity of her life in recent weeks.

The whole fiasco with Wanda had made her feel insecure, Carol had seen the conflict in your eyes but as soon as the other woman had been out of the picture it was easier for you to go back to Carol. It had not been easy, and Carol had been patient enough to know that it was time for her to make the proposal.

It was something the both of you had talked about before, Carol still had a duty to the Galaxy and she would be more than happy to share her travels with you.

Carol grabbed your jacket, her eyes flickering around until they fell on the white envelope inside your pocket. Without thinking too much about it, she grabbed the envelope looking at its contests before sitting down to read the letter.

The warm water rolling down your back felt heavenly, you lifted your face to the shower while letting the notes of the song overwhelmed your senses. It had been a long day, America was about to start school once more and Yelena was supposed to leave for New York the following week 

Your conversation with Natasha left your soul lighter, while your heart trembled with anticipation of what you would do. A part of you knew what should be your next action, while another part dread the conversation you needed to have with Carol Danvers.

When the both of you started the relationship, you never left space for romance. It was physical more than emotional, yet Carol had become a close friend and someone you could trust with your life, it was only fair for you to be honest with Carol. You didn't know what would happen with Wanda, but Carol was too emotionally involved with you for you to just leave things the way they were.

You excited the bathroom with a towel covering your body, your hands stopped midair just as your eyes fell on the woman sitting on your bed. 

“Carol! Hey, I didn't expect you here so soon, I thought you were with Monica.”

Carol winced, lowering her gaze, she pressed her lips together before facing you. You cocked your head, blinking slowly at the seriousness from the other woman.

“She had an important meeting, it didn't make sense for me to stay behind.” Carol stood up, her hand holding a familiar envelope.

Your eyes opened slightly, your eyebrows shooting upwards while the other woman stretched her hand in your direction.

“I never have a chance with you,” she stated, you opened your mouth ready to say something but the other woman shook her head. Tears welling up in her eyes.

“No, don't say anything, I know.” Carol shook her head looking away, “you told me, hell even Natasha told me, but I just thought she had hurt you enough for you to stop feeling anything for her.”

The conversation was turning out to be something uncomfortable with you dressed only on a towel. You tried to hold onto it, while trying to be as serious and as clear as possible.

“Carol, this has nothing to do with Wanda.” You started almost wincing when Carol narrowed her eyes at you nodding to the letter.

“I think it has everything to do with her.”

Silence followed such declaration, you stood there undecided as to what to do or how to proceed. The hand holding the letter was heavy, while the one holding the towel had been shaking all this time. You could see the hurt in Carol's eyes, how lost and really brokenhearted she was feeling at the moment.

It was something you had lived once that you wouldn't want anyone experiencing the same situation as you did. 

“Yes and no.” You stated trying to look for the right words. “I have been running from my emotions for a very long time, from my past and this mission…I never thought I would be facing everything I thought I didn't need or even want.”

“So now you're going back to her?” Carol couldn't help but press the subject, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m not sure as to what do I want to do or what it is exactly that I am looking for,” this time around you stepped forward, your hand left the towel to grab Carol's hand. “I just know that I have to do something about it and…see what will happen.”

Carol wanted to add something else, she wanted to say something but whatever she might say would sound hurtful and resentful. You stepped closer waiting to see if she rejected your proximity but if anything Carol seemed to give in. 

“I'm sorry.” Your voice was above a whisper, her hands soon wrapped around your waist and you could feel her warm breath on your neck.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Carol.”

“I know, I just wish I was enough for you.”

Without thinking too much, or actually planning on doing something different your cupped her face leaning in to share a goodbye kiss. Carol sighed, kissing you harder, pressing you against the closest wall trying to imprint in her mind the last memory she would have of you.

______________

Three months later

The rain was falling on the roof with constant tapping breaking the silence in the room.

The heavy aroma of incense and myrrh impregnated the air in the room, the placed was decorated with earthly colours and there was a single chair that had been occupied by a strange man wearing a dark orange Kasaya. The man had been there ever since you arrived at the temple, his eyes dancing around a book he was reading with attention.

Your feet took you to the closest window, the world right outside was a full range forest that was being clouded by the falling rain and the darkening sky. Thunder broke into the valley, and you winced hearing the rumbling sky right above your head echoing its rage with nothing to quiet down the sound. Your eyes flickered to the sky, and for that moment, your mind drifted to the last couple of weeks in which your life had change so drastically.

After Carol found Wanda’s letter in your pocket, she decided to leave for good.

It was a tough decision, and a part of you regrated the way she had to leave and how things ended up between the both of you. It hadn’t been fair with the other woman, but you never made any promises that you couldn’t keep. In the end, Carol understood this and after one last goodbye, she left to comply with her mission to the Galaxy.

You always thought you would go looking for Wanda after that, but you didn’t.

Instead of just going where your heart was telling you to go, you stayed behind to fix and organise your life the best way you could. Natasha and Yelena kept up with their mission, the brought former Widows and some hurt powered individuals that you helped to go back on their feet while teaching America about her powers while giving her a taste of a normal life.

It had been working just fine, America had been getting used to her life with you and she was getting into the whole high-school adventure the best way she could. Life in Norway had always been a quiet experience, and something that you had fallen in loved with ever since you got there; that was the reason you never left. But in the midst of all of this, and life going back to what it was you found yourself going back to the letter and to Wanda.

It became quite the habit for you to just sit outside or go to the lighthouse to think and overthink about Wanda, the letter, and what you should do next.

“Why do you keep pretending to think about what you’re going to do when you already know?”

Yelena had been the first one to question you, and you didn’t have a complete answer to that. You just gave a vague answer dismissing the young woman before going back to ignore the tug at your heart, and the memory of Wanda inside your head.

“I talk to Wanda yesterday, she wants me to tell you that she really is grateful for the book you send over, help with the boredom.” That time it had been America, and the teen had come at you with a frown and narrowed eyes. “Did you really send her a book? Why didn’t you go to her? Or wrote to her? Or even call her?”

You didn’t have an answer for those questions, so you just shrugged and proceed to ask America about the girl you saw her talking to the other day. America had blushed and soon had forgotten her questioning of your actions, you merely smirked keeping the words Wanda had sent to you closed to your heart.

“Everyone is tired of you being an idiot, so Tony sent his jet that it is waiting for you. You’ll leave at midnight, go pack your stuff.”

Natasha had not been as subtle as the others, and she had gone on full commanding mode before setting everything up for your departure. That was how you ended up at the other side of the world, with just a single backpack and waiting in the lobby with a storm happening right outside the window.

Ever since you went into the plane your heart had been leaping inside your chest, shivering while awakening a hoard of butterflies in your lower abdomen. You had been trying to control your nervousness, and your thoughts had been protected by a dark cloud ever since you arrived at Nepal. You didn’t know what you were going to say, but you did know that the time to fix everything had arrived.

“Y/N, this is really a surprised.”

You turned around to see a smirking Strange standing by the door, you returned the smirk walking towards him with your hand stretched out.

“Strange, I have to say I was forced to make up my bag and come here.” You shrugged making a face, “didn’t have much of a choice.”

“And yet, this is the place you want to be, right?” Strange chuckled tilting his head, “took you long enough.”

“Is there everyone talking about me behind my back?” You grumbled shaking your head, Strange shrugged stepping aside to show a long hallway.

“We were merely speculating and hoping.”

“Hoping?”

Strange walked beside you, his face a mask of complete peace. The man had not age that much, and yet he seemed to carry with him the weight of the world and a duty that came to him when he needed it the most.

“We were hoping for you to make the right decision.” Strange stopped at another door, this time around those eyes of his hardened while they pinned you to the spot. “Wanda has made great progress here, you know? I know things between the both of you were not easy when you were younger but things are different now.”

“I know that.” You scowled lifting your chin, “that’s the reason I’m here, things are different now and I think it is time for me to just…”

You waved your hands around, the gesture trying to replace the words you didn’t dare to say to this man. Whatever you had come to Kathmandu for, it was something you would discuss with Wanda alone. For a moment, Strange gave you an odd quizzical stare before his face relaxed again and he opened the door.

You opened your eyes impressed by the sight, right in front of you there was a huge yard filled with training grounds that were completely empty under the rain. In each corner of the squared Yard there was a fountain decorated with mythological animals pouring water with a melodic fall. Your eyes went from the yard to the ceilings and the sky, then they finally focused on a young man standing by the closest column waiting patiently for something.

Strange cleared his throat presenting the young man to you.

“I have set up a room for you, Carlos will take you there.” Strange dedicated you along stare before speaking again. “Everything had been set up, and when you’re ready you will know where to go.”

“Thank you for having me here, Strange.”

“Don’t mention it, as I said, I think this is necessary and I think it would be beneficial for you and her.” Strange waved at you, turning around. “Just…don’t break her heart.”

Those words shoot a cold, sharp pain through your heart, your eyes opened and your mouth was already formulating a retort to such words. However, you stopped yourself when the sky ignited into a bluish-silvery light and thunder growled through the valley.

You jumped startle turning your eyes to the sky.

“Sometimes silence is better than no silence at all.” Carlos smiled gently at you; he bowed showing the opposite side of the hall to you. “Shall we, Mrs. Y/L/N?”

The young man led you a room in the far corner of the compound, it was under the shadow of a mountain while facing the forest and the far-away city of Kathmandu. The room was quite simple, with a single bed, a bedside table, a desk, a bathroom and a wardrobe it was something that reminded you of your younger days.

“I hope this is of your liking, Mrs. Y/L/N, dinner usually is served at 7pm, and breakfast at 6am, after those hours you are very welcome to use the kitchen at your own discretion.” Carlos explained while allowing you to se the room. “If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. I am in charge of you for as long as you stay here.”

“Thank you, Carlos, you are very kind.” You offered a single smile; Carlos bowed his head but before he could go you called out to him. “Carlos, wait.”

The young man turned around tilting his head with a frown on his face.

“Do you know…where can I find Wanda Maximoff?”

Carlos frown deepened and it looked to you as if he didn’t know for certain where the woman was or who you were asking for. Then, his eyes opened slightly with a glint of understanding in them.

“She usually spends her time in the Meditation Chamber, it is located it on the left wing of the compound. Near the pass to the mountain range.” Carlos hesitated before bowing again. “No one likes to go there when she is using the small chamber, Y/L/N, so please be advised of this.”

“Thank you, Carlos, I will be careful.”

The young man nodded and finally left.

You stood in the middle of the room for a while before dropping your backpack to the ground and falling to the bed. You closed your eyes, your heart beating a tad bit faster while your hands got all sweaty; there was a tingling void in the pit of your stomach making you tensed around the shoulders.

What the hell am I doing? Why am I even here? What if…what if this doesn’t work?

These thoughts danced around your head, your body regulating your breathing until you finally fall asleep. The last thought that crossed your mind was that Wanda would be in for a great surprised, and you just hoped that love really was enough.

You woke up with a start.

The room was submerged in darkness, not a single sound could be heard inside or outside your room. You sat down noticing the clothes you had arrived on, and the unmade backpack on the floor. You had fallen asleep, tired for the trip and the emotional rollercoaster you had been as of late.

You were also running from what was to come.

With a quick glance to the watch on your wrist, it was past four in the morning. You stood up and made your way to the bathroom, your mind going over the dream that had woken you up abruptly. The memories mixed with the dream of what could be, the anxiousness of a meeting you were not sure how it would turn out to be.

You took a deep breath enjoying the morning breeze that caressed your skin. The rays of light sneaking through the heavy clouds gliding above your head, it was a cold morning with little light following your stroll down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. All around you the morning routine for the inhabitants of the temple had started, with one single thought in mind, you went straight to the kitchens for a coffee before meeting with the woman you had come to see. Your lower abdomen was already filling up with butterflies, and your body tingled in anticipation.

*****

There was a small cabin located at the outskirts of the compound.

Wanda had chosen this place because it was the only place in which she could hide from the judging stare of the rest of the inhabitants in Kamar-Taj. In the last couple of months, she had been focusing on learning more about her powers and about herself, she had tried to reach out for some sort of peace while getting her powers under control.

It had worked, to some degree.

What she really found difficult to overcome, or to actually face with a cold heart was her past. And more exactly, her feelings for you. The memories mixed inside her head, the possibilities along with her desires and her hopes brought a new kind of longing to her heart. The letter she left behind had been her fighting effort to be a part of your live, she was conscious of your anger but also of your willingness to forgive. 

Wanda had hoped that perhaps…

The sun raised on the horizon, this time around the yellowish light broke into the sky bathing that ground with light. Wanda rested her elbows on her knees, her eyes lost on the mountain chains spreading through the valley. She had found peace in Kamar-Taj, and after three months of uncertainty, she had given up seeking to heal her broken heart.

“You surely know how to pick these places.” Your voice broke any silence spreading through the house, Wanda jerked awake turning sharply to the source.

You stood rather awkwardly at the door leading to the yard, your hand scratching the back of your head but your eyes completely set on Wanda.

“Y/N?” Wanda whispered in disbelief; with heavy limbs she turned completely standing up. “You…what…”

The words went missing in her mind, she was dumbfounded never thinking it was possible to see you once more. To actually have you there, standing casually in front of her. You raised a brow, lips curling in amusement, you stepped closer observing as all defenses broke and Wanda stood vulnerable in front of you. Why didn't you see it before that day?

There was some hesitation on your part but, after a brief moment, you stepped closer hugging Wanda, holding her closer to your chest. 

“Hey there, little witch.” The nickname rolled out of your lips with a  familiarity you hadn’t lost and Wanda wrapped her arms around you tightly hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

This moment crossed your mind several times, each scenario had been different every time and sometimes the outcome had not been pleasant. But at that moment, it was everything you were looking for and Wanda was needing.

The sunny morning had changed rapidly into a snowy one, the sky darkened with cold breezes breaking into the temple forcing its inhabitants to seek refuge inside the quarters of the temple.. 

Wanda had been talking non-stop, it was unusual of her to just make small conversation but she had been nervous enough to have you there to just stay quiet and not say anything at all. Her hand grabbed the teapot, pouring the warm water into the small mugs she had fixed on a tray.

“Strange thought this could be good for me, he told me the offer had been on the table by the time Thanos was defeated but…” Wanda lifted the tray making her way to makeshift living room.

“But America and Westview happened.” You finished helping her out, Wanda smiled nervisouly shrugging while locking her eyes to yours. “You never have a rest, haven't you? I mean, as far as I know, you have been facing difficulties from day one and…”

“Losing you left me lost.” She mumbled sitting down, conscious that your eyes were on her. 

This was the first time she referred to that moment, Wanda grabbed the mug with both hands frowning lightly.

“I was afraid of everything I was feeling, everything I was experiencing with you.” She whispered only for you to hear. “You were everything I wanted and I was…I wasn't no one, Y/N, why would you want to be with me?”

You pierced together every single moment surrounding the break up, the treason before and after, the happiness and the heartbreak. At that time, Wanda had been completely alone, having lost Pietro had been difficult and then she was trusted into a life she hardly understood, and people that were more afraid of her than anything. It was not an excuse, but you understood what Wanda was saying.

“You broke my heart so bad, Wanda.” You spoke, noticing the hardening of your voice, Wanda winced but you didn't stop there. “I was in love with you, ready to give you the world, ready to help you with the weight you were carrying…but I never saw how hard it was for you.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “did I ever tell you about the beginning of the war?”

The question caught you by surprise, the change of topic was so sudden you were tempted to press further into questions about the cheating and the reasoning behind it. It was the shadows crossing Wanda's face that made you rethink your options, and the fact this was the first time she spoke about Sokovia.

“You never spoke about Sokovia, or your family. Not really.” You replied, earning a simple nod.

“My family was complicated, mom lost dad when we were children and she married soon after.” Wanda spoke with the weight of memory in her voice, her eyes drifting away until the found yours once more. “My stepfather was a religious man, and mom was a school teacher that had never forced her beliefs on us until then.”

You fixed your position on the sofa, your eyes never leaving Wanda. It was the first time Wanda really opened up to you, a story and a background you didn't know and that was showing a side of Wanda that had been unknown to you.How many times did you really talk to her? How many stories had she told you about herself?

Why did you fall in love with her?

Why were you still in love with her?

“He was really tough on me, Pietro would get away with almost anything until the first bombs were heard in the outskirts of the city.” This time around she softened the corner of her eyes, her lips twitching upwards, “he was so mad he wasn't allow to go to the soccer match, that he dragged me out of the house and we both tried to get to the field. We almost died that day.”

You straightened up leaning in with eyes wide open.

“You did?”

“Yes, one of the first conflicts broke out in the neighbourhood where the field was located.” Wanda made a face, “I had never been so afraid as I was at that moment.”

“What do you miss the most about Sokovia?”

The question caught Wanda by surprise, whatever shadow of war and memory dropped for a moment giving way to a different expression. 

“I loved the libraries.” 

“You did?” You chuckled watching as Wanda leaned forward all giddy telling you about the public library near her home, how the books were organised on different shelves and the sight of so many books she could get her hands on had always been so tempting she found peace and happiness in these places.

“After my parents died, I was so busy trying to survive and to make my way through the world with Pietro I just forgot about it.” Wanda lowered her face, her eyes on the floor. “I was angry, lost and afraid…then, Hydra came and I didn't want to be a victim anymore.”

You purse your lips remembering those first days in which you met Wanda. An angry and dark teenager that was angry at the world for everything that had happened to her.

“I guess it must have been hard to see Pietro again.” You said all of a sudden, Wanda nodded curtly tears forming in her eyes.

“It was hard seeing everyone, everything I could have but…”

“We don't know if we could have.” You finished placing the mug on the table, tilting your head, your eyes focused on the window, glancing at the world outside. “I guess things could have been different, perhaps worse…”

“Or better.” Wanda followed your eyes to the window, it was raining with some snowflakes swirling around.

You shrugged, lowering your eyes to the watch on your wrist. It was past midday, lunch was already being served back in the main temple and your stomach was protesting from the lack of food. 

“You could stay.” Wanda proposed following your stare to the outside, you teared your eyes from the window glancing at Wanda that was blushing lightly. “I mean, it is raining and the main temple must be full, and it is so far and…”

Wanda gasped tensing when your hand fell upon yours, your lips broke into an easy smile. 

“I was thinking the same, but perhaps you have something to eat? I'm starving.”

The change Wanda had was almost surprising, her whole face lit up and she stood right away stretching her hand towards you. You glanced at her hand, then at the grin adorning her face before taking her hand in yours standing up and letting her guide you through the small cabin.

“Oh, you're in for a huge surprise, I've been dying to show these new recipes to someone but…” Wanda trailed off, her enthusiasm almost diminishing until you squeezed her hand smiling encouragingly at her.

“I've been on my own in this place ever since I came here. Not many are very open to share a conversation with me.”

“Why's that?” You inquired frowning lightly, Wanda shrugged looking away from you.

“They are afraid of my powers and…how powerful I am.”

Silence followed her words, but soon there was no more conversation needed it as you two reached a small kitchenette located at the back of the cabin. Wanda pointed to a dinning chair near the island counter, her happy smile was back on making sure you were seated before she started working around.

“You really are excited about this.” You commented chuckling lightly, your cheeks burning when the other woman winked at you, carefree and grinning.

“I just…” she bit her lower lip, her eyes glancing everywhere but at you, “I'm just happy I'm not alone, that I have someone to cook for.”

Wanda turned quickly busying herself with the past and the knives putting the food from a cupboard and a fridge.

“When did you learn to cook?” You asked resting your elbows on the counter, your eyes never left the form of Wanda observing the tension on her shoulders, or listening to the trembling on her voice.

“When we have to go on the run…after Lagos.” 

“Those were difficult times,” you recalled the conflict and the drama, Natasha trying to balance her public life with her life as a spy, then Steve and Tony arguing like children while the world divided itself without any reason.

“You signed the treaty, though.” 

“I did but it didn't matter.” You cocked your head, smiling as the other woman scowled openly at your words. “They needed the idea of control, and that's what we did. But they never got a chance to actually controlled us, our abilities and the danger that has always lurked in the dark wouldn't allow them to actually have any control. Or power.”

Wanda opened her mouth ready to argue your position, she had been at the other end of the conflict being accused of horrible crimes while being called names that had broken her at some point.

You softened your stance, sympathy showing in your eyes.

“It was different for you, wasn't it?”

“Everyone thinks I'm a monster.” She replied flatly, “I'm starting to think they are right.”

It was not only Lagos, it was Edinburgh and Sokovia, it was her working for Hydra and then coming back from the snap with anger and sadness in her heart. It wasn't easy for her, and you were just taking noticed of the external factors that had pushed Wanda over the edge on more than one occasion.

“You're not a monster.” Your replied was supposed to be encouraging but your voice hardened this statement, you winced noticing the hurt flash crossing her green eyes.

“I guess it doesn't matter anymore.” Wanda turned around busying herself with the food. “I'm here now, away from everyone I could ever hurt, trying to just control myself and learn more about my powers.

Alone.

She didn't say it, but for you the word resounded perfectly after her statement. Soon after all conversation died and the only sounds were those of Wanda moving around the kitchen preparing the lunch she had been so eager to show you moments ago.

A little restlessly, you stood up walking around the kitchenette taking noticed of the appliances as well as the actual construction of the cabin. The place was at the outskirts of a temple that had exist before any civilization had a chance to flourish. Your sight lifted to the mountain chains hovering above the valley, the dark clouds of a storm along with the drops of water covered the plain making the resto of the world invisible to prying eyes. The cabin was on the perfect spot for anyone to disappear for a while.

You turned around observing the furniture and the few things that were Wanda's. You took notice of the books, and the notebooks, her clothes and her blankets, the shoes on the floor and the pictures on the coffee table. With some trepidation, you approached the table, your eyes going wide open as they fell on the picture right on the top.

It was a picture of you and her.

You two were younger, the smiles and the closeness were evidence of what was starting to happen between the both of you. It had been a happy moment, right before the both of you escaped the watchful eye of Tony, Steve and Natasha and went out of your way to have fun and find so much needed love.

“I love that picture.” Wanda appeared out of nowhere, you jerked around finding her standing by a cabinet, her eyes far away submerged in memories. “That day you went out of your way to make me laugh, to try and make me happy…it was…”

“After your birthday.” You mumbled, smiling softly while approaching her. “I remembered.”

You stood right in front of her, the heat from her body comforting the cold ess in yours. Her eyes filled with uncertainty and hopefulness, your heart shrank at the scene wanting nothing more than to give in. Wanda wrapped her left hand around her right forearm, tension growing around you two…waiting…

“Lunch is ready.” Wanda was the first one to break the silence, the tension broke with a splash of cold water and soon there was only awkwardness.

“Good, I'm starving.” You declared touching your abdomen, Wanda smiled nodding to the kitchen.

“I…I hope you like it.” She stated stepping back an dreading you back, whatever was happening, whatever was about to happen put to a rest while you and Wanda tricked yourselves into denial.

—-----------------------

The rest of the afternoon went by without any major incident, Wanda was afraid to ask about your life but you didn't need any questions since the silence was becoming unbearable. With some select stories, you told Wanda what you had done ever since you left the Avengers, you told her about the many adventures and those tragic events that had surrounded your life. She had filled in the spaces with her own stories, but the strained that had been growing since lunch was still there lurking and waiting to explode.

You stretched out tilting your head to see the rain had stopped and the night was filled with stars and a bright, silver moon. 

“I think I should go.” You mumbled but did not make any attempt to move from your spot.

Wanda followed your eyes, biting her lower lip.

“It's late.” She stated with some hesitation, “you could…you could stay the night. I mean, the walk to the main temple is long and in this darkness could be dangerous, and it was raining so …”

“You do know that I can moved through the shadows once I know where I am going, right?” You replied amusedly, Wanda blushed opening and closing her mouth.

“Yes, yes of course I know, I…” Wanda trailed off, lowering her gaze.

I don't want you to go.

You nodded briefly standing up and completing your stretching routine. Your eyes never once leaving the form of Wanda.

“Then, I'll leave. We can continue this tomorrow, if you're up to it.”

“Yes!” Wanda stood up rather fast almost falling on you, she couldn't stop blushing cursing her own inadequacy and cowardice. “I mean, that would be nice.”

“We could train and you can show me what you have learnt in here so far “

“Sure, that would be…nice.” Wanda bounced lightly wanting to say something else but unable to do so.

You turned around but, right before you were consumed by your shadows you leaned in placing a single kiss on Wanda's cheeks.

“Have a good night, Little Witch.”

You left and Wanda was left frozen on the spot, her face warm with a single hand brushing against the spot you had just kissed. With some hesitation, she wrapped her arms around herself and went to bed, thoughts of you dancing inside her head. There was just a single thought tormenting her, and it was the question that kept her most of the night awake.

What was going on with you and that sudden visit?

_____________

What Wanda thought would be a couple of days turned into a couple of weeks.

The questions tormenting her mind never stopped, but she didn't dare to voice any of them for fear of breaking the status quo of her relationship with you. Idhe was happy with what she could get, even if that meant she would think about it at night unable to sleep wondering just what the hell was happening or why you were there. She would remember your smile, your words, the conversations that made her laughed or know the Y/N she had missed all those years; and then she would turn around put her knees to her chest and let herself feel the twist of her heart thinking of the cruel torture that was seeing you and not being able to be with you.

It was difficult, but Wanda was just happy with what she could get from you. 

“You have to lift your arm…yes, just like that.” 

Your voice and the soft touch of your arms broke Wanda's thoughts, she felt her cheeks colouring red at the closeness of your body, the sweet torment of your warm breath on her ear.

“There you go, let's do it slowly. First learn this form before channelling the energy.”

You smiled satisfied when the young woman followed your instructions, Wanda had been distracted in the last couple of days and her frustration had grown to the point she was always tense when trying to follow up your instructions. You stepped back watching before joining her with your own exercises, taking a deep breath while enjoying the silence that echoed through the valley.

“When did you learn all of this?” Wanda huffed tiredly, she turned around to see the teasing smirk dancing on your lips. “This is…difficult.”

You shrugged, finishing the final movement before scratching the back of your head, you step closer to Wanda standing right in front of her. It was easy to see when her breath caught in her throat, how her eyes dilated and the muscles of her body tense completely. Your heart shivered lightly, your arms stretching with the palms of your hands turned to her, Wanda furrowed her brows watching as you joined her hands with yours.

“I was angry at the world, violent and a little confused when Natasha first took me in,” you explained, never looking away from Wanda while your hands alongside hers lifted and started a new form of Tai Chi. 

“This technique gave me peace, but it wasn't until I left the Avengers that I realised I need to really learn about my powers.” You furrowed your brows, the memories breaking inside your mind, Wanda couldn't look away her heart leaping intensely while her body submitted herself to you.

“This helps me understand the shadows and the darkness inside my heart, besides…” your smirk grew, your eyes gleaming mischievously, “it is giving me an opportunity to be close to you, right?”

Wanda couldn't help the blush growing on her face, nor the smile that showed on her lips. You chuckled, leading her for at least fifteen more minutes before the training session was over. 

The morning had been cold, and the rain had become a constant occurrence in the time you had been in Nepal. That morning had been not an exception, and by the time the training had been over your clothes were completely drenched; you made a face grabbing your jacket and the boots while looking around for your backpack. The downside of coming all the wat to where Wanda was staying was precisely that your stuff was all in the room up in the main building.

Wanda could see your hesitation and annoyance, your eyes going from one piece of clothing to the other while your hand massaged the back of your neck. The young witch chewed on her lower lip, thinking on how to proceed before stepping closer her hand placing tenderly on your shoulder.

You turned around tilting your head while furrowing your eyes, Wanda offered a tentative smile nodding to the cabin.

“I have hot water and some spare clothes, it you don’t mind.” She said tentatively, “that way you don’t have to go all the way to the temple and…well, you…you can finally take my offer of staying here.”

You pressed your lips together thinking over the offer, you hadn’t dared to tell Wanda that night would be the last one you would stay in Nepal. That day you had planned to finally have a serious conversation with her right before leaving; the last couple of weeks had been amazing and you had given in normality instead of facing the real issue that had brought you all the way to Kamar-Taj.

“I mean, you don’t have to and if you want…” Wand started babbling waving her hands while trying to hide her nervousness, you realised you had taken far too long to answer her and she was now trying to cover up for something that might not be what you wanted.

“Hey, that’s okay I was just…” You hesitated straightening up, the same nervous gesture of your hand at the nape of your neck present, “look…I just think we must talk.”

“Oh.” Wanda stepped back placing her left hand on her right elbow, her face fell only to change into a grimace that she tried to make look natural, “right, I mean you have Natasha and Yelena, and America is there and…and Carol. Right I just, I thought…”

Whatever Wanda thought got tangle in her throat as she found herself mere inches away from you, your hands had been placed tenderly on her hips and you were trying to catch her eyes in your to make sure that whatever you were going to say was not lost in misunderstanding.

“I have to go back, yes.” You started taking care of the words you were using, “Natasha and Yelena got news of something unusual happening in France and wanted my help, America is still at school so I have to make sure everything is arranged and Carol…”

A swift breeze formed around them, Wanda was frowning crunching up her nose while her eyes gleamed a single flash of red. She stepped back lifting her hand when you tried to approach her.

“I know, I get it. I never expected you to stay longer than…than what you should, I mean I don’t even know why you came here.” Wanda finally said looking away from you not really understanding what was happening, but hating the fact she was feeling so heartbroken.

“Wanda…” you started but the redhead shook her head breaking into a sad smile.

“Go take a bath and I will prepare the clothes and something to eat then, we can talk.”

You opened your mouth only to close it again nodding curtly.

“Okay.”

Without looking back at you or saying anything else Wanda turned around and left you alone feeling the coldness of the morning now more than ever.

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The sound of the shower filled your ears while the warm contact of the water heated your skin. You closed your eyes, your hands working on the knots on your back and arms moving through your shoulders and your neck whatever place you could reach. Your body was letting go of the tension, but your mind and heart were deeply tormented by what had happened in the last couple of weeks.

You had come to Nepal with a single goal in mind.

Seeing Wanda after almost five months had brought back all the love you thought you had stopped feeling for her. On that first day you had thought of just talk about what had happened and her letter, but things didn’t turn out the way you expected them and, as the days passed by you realised the conversation could wait as long as you had a chance to pretend that Wanda and you were okay.

Wanda had set up the food in the small living room, she had a laptop set up while a mug of hot chocolate rested in her hands. Her face lifted in your direction, her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were red, the smile she gave you was one of pure sadness and the sight alone broke your heart.

You approached her taking the spot beside her on the sofa, the table had been filled with another cup of hot chocolate, bread and some cheese.

“I thought you may be hungry as well, and I just thought well you told me you haven’t watched this movie and Strange got it for me under illegal circumstances.”

It was a silent offering that you took with a smile, you sat down grabbing the chocolate.

“I bet he did, don’t worry Tony has a specific program for this kind of activities as well,” You fixed your position on the sofa.

Wanda pulled on her blanket, a huge dark blue fleece she had bought on her way out of Norway. She stretched out making sure your legs were covered, her warm breath so close to your face that it sent shivers down your back.

“I just thought if this is going to be my last day with you, I would love to spend it like this.” She whispered, chewing on her lower lip before sitting closer to you.

“It is not your last day with me, Wanda.” You replied lowering your gaze furrowing your brows. “You left with a goodbye and a letter that left me confused.”

“It was not my intention.” Wanda leaned back, she was hoping for the conversation to not take place to perhaps evade the inevitable heartbreak but it seemed as if you were decided to continue without any consideration.

“I wrote that because…” Wanda brushed her hair shrugging, “I never thought I will meet with you again, Y/N, and the circumstances of this meeting make me face my past, and what I lost, what I could have.”

“You weren’t the only one, Wanda.” Your voice dropped shaking your head, “I never thought I will see you again, but when I did…”

“Why did you come here, Y/N?” Wanda finally dared to ask afraid of the answer but far to eager to know, to finally understand what had happened in the last couple of weeks.

You were looking straight ahead, your thoughts twirling around in a maze of uncertainties. Leaning to your right, you found Wanda was just as confused and nervous as you were feeling at the moment.

“I never stopped loving you.” You confessed unable to look away from those green eyes, “I tried several times to just forget and ripped away my love for you.”

Wand winced her heart clenching inside her chest at those words.

“But I couldn’t and then…” You snorted shaking your head. “Then everything happened, you come back and I just…”

“I love you.” Wanda whispered, her lips quivering and her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I never stopped and it hurts so much knowing that I messed up so big that you…I don’t pretend you want to be with me, and I know after everything things are…”

“Confusing.” You cut in; you took a deep breath before glancing back at Wanda.

Silence fell afterwards, the tension built like an invisible force that was threatening to explode in the outcomes Wanda was afraid of. It wasn’t until that moment that she understood she had been afraid to know the answer to her question, why were you there could have many responses, but Wanda had only written two possibilities: a possible friendship, or give Wanda a chance.

Both outcomes were equally terrifying, and the silence coming from you was the most disturbing thing for her.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak but the words tangled in her throat, you had shifted your position coming closer to her the back of your hand caressing her face and your eyes, those eyes that months ago had looked at her with hatred and anger, were now looking at her with tenderness and confusion. There was something else in there but Wanda was afraid to put a label on it, hope could be such a fragile emotion.

“I thought about your words, Wanda, I haven’t been able to rest since you left.” You furrowed your brows your hand moving away but your face coming closer to Wanda’s. “Tell me, what should I do?”

Wanda found herself lost in your eyes; her throat completely dry while her heart leaped painfully on her chest. Her abdomen filled with butterflies while she tried to find the right words to answer your question.

“I came here because I needed to see you, because I missed you.” You confessed your words hitting Wanda straight in her heart. “But the real reason, Little Witch, is because I don’t want to lose you. Not again. Not anymore. So, tell me, Little Witch, what should I do?”

Time stood still.

Wanda was still trying to process your words, her heart beating really fast with her mind wrapping around what you just said. She could feel your warm breath on her face, the smell of her shampoo on your hair and the sweet scent of chocolate on your breath. Wanda had waited far too long for to give her a chance and now that the opportunity was here she was afraid.

“You…You could stay with me.” Wanda whispered cringing at her response, thinking herself an idiot for not being straightforward.

You snorted shaking your head, Wanda was afraid to see anger or disappointment, but when you put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face slowly all she could see was amusement and…love.

“Whatever you want, Little Witch.”

The nickname rolled out of you sending shivers down Wanda’s back, something shifted at that moment but Wanda wasn’t sure what it was; but even though she was afraid and unsure, she leaned in closing the distance melting as soon as her lips touched yours.

It was like the first time you two kissed.

Tentative and timid, a single touch of lips moulding to the other with trembling hands holding you to Wanda. You missed this feeling so much, her soft lips, the taste that was purely Wanda, how she just gave in without thinking too much; the world fade away and the only person that existed was Wanda.

The kiss broke too fast for you liking, Wanda rested her forehead against yours tears rolling down her cheeks.

“What so you want, Wands?” you asked softly, your hand caressing her cheek and face.

Wanda fluttered her eyes closed leaning into your touch.

“If this is our last day, I just want to be with you.” Wanda’s eyes opened wide, her cheeks burn an intense red while you wiggle your brows teasingly.

“My, Wanda, but give us at least another cup of chocolate.” You chuckled when she slapped you playfully on the shoulder.

“I didn’t mean… I just …ugh, would you stop it?” Wanda tried to hold back her laughter, but with you looking at her amused was kind of difficult.

“You have a dirty mind.”

“You’re the one with the dirty mind, I just said I want to be with you.” She retorted rolling her eyes but without getting away from your closeness.

“So movie and some snuggles?” You inquired fixing your position on the sofa, Wanda nodded playing the movie while crawling to you.

“This is not going to be our last day, Little Witch.”

“I know.” Wanda said with a flash of doubt crossing her green eyes, you wished there was something else you could tell her but for now your words should be enough. “Can we…watch the movie?”

“Whatever you want, Little Witch.”

You moved on your back, putting the movie while letting Wanda decided where she would rest. It didn’t take her took long to crawl to you resting her weight on your body cuddling closer with her eyes turned to the screen her ear placed tenderly on your chest hearing the beatings of your heart. Wanda sighed contentedly when your own arms wrapped protectively around her, and at that moment she knew she was falling in love with you again and this time around things would be different.

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Next Chapter: You meet with Wanda once more, this time around a different place and a different, as the world continues its existance you and Wanda are finally giving one another a chance to live. America gets in some trouble, Yelena brings back up, and Natasha can believe she is ready for retirement.