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#miss marvel
soranatus · 5 months
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An Inspiring Marvel By Jo Cheol-Hong (Mi-Gyeung)
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floilee · 5 months
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(Meanwhile in the complex)
Kamala: I need you to hide something for me.
Yelena: Is it a body?
Kate: YELENA! *moment of silence* Is it a body?
Kamala: Yes and no...
Kate: I can’t believe it! Did you kill one people?
Kamala: No. I did worse.
Yelena: Did you kill two people?
America: Why does she have to killed someone?
Peter: PLEASE TELL WHAT YOU WANT TO HIDE?
*Kamala taking Goose out of her backpack*
Kate: YELENA HOLD LUCKY!
Yelena hugging Lucky very angry: WHY KHAN? WHY??
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gay-jewish-bucky · 8 months
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i love gay fashion
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rowenas-megacoven · 2 months
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The Khan’s are just PHENOMENAL. They’re so warm and vibrant and hysterical in all the best ways. The MCU is absent/shitty/dead/evil-parent-and-complicated-family central, theres too much familial feuding at times, whether that family is blood or adopted or found, so I am LIVING for and LOVING how the Khan’s are just so normal and ordinary and wonderful. It’s no wonder Kamala has such a can-do, confident, positive attitude. It’s no wonder she’s such a dreamer and proudly herself and so damn funny when she’s surrounded by so much love and encouragement. Kamala Khan and the fam need to be in more Marvel movies, their dynamic is just joyous and healing and I will NOT tolerate another Aunt May incident. I WILL NOT. I swear if anything happens to ANY of them-
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bylertruth3r · 3 months
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Valcarol, Valkyrie calling Carol "my captain", Valkyrie not even being being surprised at the thought of Carol marrying a woman (because they used to date), Valkyrie thinking Carol's married to Kamala, bi Kamala(?)
why did they delete this?? :(
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I don’t need avengers 5–I need a sitcom where Peter Parker, Kamala Khan, America Chavez and Kate Bishop are all living in an apartment together, being the best of friends but not a single one of them knows that the other has a secret identity/powers and them constantly making the most batshit absolutely insane stories about where they went missing when the city was on fire.
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imhereformarvel · 5 months
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The Marvels was so damn good. Well balanced, good pacing for a quick film, lots of humor, and some seriously exciting surprises. So many thoughts, keeping it non-spoiler:
-Kamala is a precious angel baby that had everyone in my theater in stitches of laughter the entire movie. If you watched the series, you already know that the actress is phenomenal, however, she manages to bring serious star power to the big screen in a way that feels truly magical. I see big things for Iman Vellani’s future.
-I love that we got to see a very human side of Carol in this film. She is funny, vulnerable with her found family, and still an absolute ass-kicking badass nonetheless.
-Monica is such a strong character. She never falters in the face of adversity, and I really admire it. She is smart, fair, brave, and levelheaded when others can’t be. A great role model for the younger crowds seeing the film. 
-THE FLERKENS!!!!! 🐱🐱🐱🐱
-UM the end of the film sets up some seriously big shit and I don’t want to spoil it for anyone but all I can say is DAMN.Y’all gotta see for yourself. Major plot points for the future direction of the MCU are established with some shocking cameos. Both the end-of-film cameo and post credit scene cameo made my entire theater gasp!
-1 official (awesome cameo) mid credit and an audio end of credit (just for fun).
-Gorgeous fight scenes. Smooth, well choreographed, and successful in highlighting everybody’s unique powers.
Phase 4 had its rocky moments, but I feel like this week Marvel hit two big homeruns with the Loki season 2 finale and The Marvels. This film really felt like we are getting back to our roots with great action and exciting promises of things to come. 
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Monica waiting for Carol as a kid,,,, now Carol's waiting for her.... i-
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juneverkn0w · 4 months
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she is for the lesbians
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I keep seeing people say Nick gave Kamala the tablet but did you guys catch that she said she found it in her couch cushions? 😭 baby went rogue
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jackdoe · 5 months
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Carol, Kamala, and Monica are the Autism, ADHD, Anxiety trinity.
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thesaintart · 7 months
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Miss Marvel's day off ⭐️
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catpriciousmarjara · 8 months
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Tell me: Is He Gay or In a Sherwani?
Imposition of western norms in fandom analysis of Asian characters
With the rising popularity of Indian cinema sparked by the recent success of RRR on international platforms as well as the easy availability of multiple streaming services, in addition to the appearance of South Asian characters in prominent roles in western, particularly US media, I've begun to see some concerning 'analysis' posts online. So I thought I'd address something I found common in most of these takes.
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Guys, characterizing your blorbos as queer is great and all, love it, but you're making a fundamental mistake by making their clothing choices the foundation for your queer headcanons, especially when it comes to male characters. Do not apply existing western cultural ideas regarding male clothing onto South Asian characters and their dressing please.
The vast majority of the clothes being used by people in various online spaces as 'evidence' of a character being queer(gay or bi mostly) are just normal Indian clothing for men, like daily wear. A top being pink or a character's wardrobe being mostly pastel means absolutely nothing...cos Indian clothing tends to be colourful in general and the tendency to ascribe colours masculine and feminine qualities is considerably less in the subcontinent. I'm not saying it doesn't exist, but generally not a concern.
There's also this pervasive idea that colourful clothing = flamboyance = queer and that itself is something many people have already pointed as a deeply flawed way of thinking and a stereotype. Furthermore, even if you do lean into the archetype of queer men being flamboyant, subscribing to the 'stereotypes exist for a reason don't they?' school of thought perhaps, there's also the fact that ideas of what is considered flamboyant change dramatically across different cultures. What is 'flamboyant' for someone might just be normal for others. Like maybe pink or purple or yellow might be considered too much, unmanly, emasculating etc in the US or something but they're just perfectly normal colours for men to wear in many, many cultures.
It's the 'Is he Gay or European?' principle. Did you characterize this Indian character (or any South Asian character really) as queer because of their canonical behaviour and portrayal, or did you just see their clothing and decide they're queer because being well groomed and having a colourful wardrobe is a character trait you exclusively ascribe to being queer?
Like guys, I like Chaipunk like the rest of you, but if you consider Pavitr queer just because his costume is a lot fancier than the others' (An actual take I've seen multiple times) without taking into account his cultural background....¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Let me make this clear, I don't think people need a ten page analysis to imagine their fave as queer. Headcanoning a character as queer can have any reason ranging from 'I said so and so it is' to 'this is my light character analysis that makes a masters thesis look shabby' and they're all valid and an integral part of the fandom experience. What I am annoyed at are these so-called 'well-researched' theories that did not make the slightest effort to look into South Asian culture and simply transposed their western bias onto Indian media and confidently make flat out wrong judgements and mislead other people. Clothing based sexual identity determinism is the least of it. That I can at least understand through the lens of a habitual process built through years of analyzing crumbs of queer representation available only through queer coded characters and symbolism such as clothing choices being the only way to see an aspect of yourself portrayed in an aggressively heteronormative media ecosystem. I do that too, because media is tragically heteronormative everywhere. But the rest? Its just straight up misinformation and misrepresentation touted as truth.
Its the same with relationships between men. There are plenty of cultures where skinship between men is not unusual and dynamics and nuances tend to be vastly different from western representations of male friendships. In xianxia and wuxia fandoms you can see this same problem in a different font when outsiders, most often the western side of the fandom, try to apply their own standards and morals onto the original work and try to interpret it through a lens it was never supposed to be interpreted through in the first place, except maybe for comparative analysis. This practice itself isn't a major problem, its natural for people to apply what is familiar to them to try and understand something new. But when this is also accompanied by them foisting their personal interpretation and analysis as the 'correct' one and trying to impose it on the fandom as a whole, it escalates into a powder keg situation as you can imagine.
Again, not saying that western parts of fandoms are the root of all evil or anything like that, gods know how toxic netizens can be. But in this specific situation, where people try to impose western ideals on to non-western content and assumes the universalism of their own principles and value systems? Indeed an issue to be addressed.
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nerdbrazil · 4 months
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wmarximoff · 2 years
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Hi!
For the requests, I’d like to ask you if you could write something with Wanda, fem!reader and the twins where one of them has a nightmare and his mothers comfort him. Then the next day turns into a family day full of love and funny moments!!
take a break | w. maximoff
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summary: ever since you left on a mission far away, Billy has been having nightmares that have been worrying Wanda. all your family needs is for you to come home soon.
warnings: none, actually. this is just pure family fluff.
pairing: Wanda x fem!reader
word count: 4k
A/N: sorry for the delay anon (this really took a long time to come out), but my classes haven't been helping much. but even with the delay, here it is! hope you like it!
|masterlist|
༺ᱬ༻
Wanda's right thumb had its cheek pressed against the long screen of her phone, in that digitized green icon found right in the center of the device's screen glass that indicated the beginning of a phone call. The name of the contact marked her wife's – there, next to it, was a small red heart emoji to distinguish her from the others, a symbolic trophy for having married her. And it was calling, the vibration of the device possible to feel through her fingers.
Wanda then lifted her forearm beneath that unbuttoned cardigan made of fine crimson wool, fitting the face of her phone against the length of her right ear. For a brief second, her upper teeth clenched and chewed the length of her rosy lower lip, in an act that served to replace the usual fidget she was used to doing with her fingers when faced with somewhat agonizing situations.
When she was younger, she'd do it with a handful of silver rings that she liked to carry around her fingers, twisting and tugging at them with her fingertips, but it had been a good few years now (certainly a decade or even little more than that) that the only adornment to be found there could only have been the thin golden band of a wedding ring, placed there by her wife, whose simple ornament was a small cut ruby gemstone that used to shimmer scarlet in the sunlight on summer days like that.
The phone, therefore, was held diagonally close to the high, sharp of Wanda's firm cheekbone, beneath a long strand of brown hair like a smooth coffee wave. And, with her hips leaning against the edge of the dark marble kitchen counter, her eyes a sizable glint of tension spreading around the jadish irises, Wanda waited.
She just waited, listening to her own breathing – the call unfolding, awaiting the reception of that person on the other end of the line whose call was directed.
She wouldn't like to say that she was restless, even a little schismatic, but it was kind of how her nerves felt as they bristled at that moment in question, being inside the tiled, pale-walled kitchen, an open window that allowed the glow of daylight from the backyard to flood the room in a golden pool of warm sunlight.
From where she stood, just a few feet away that crossed the ground floor of that domestic environment, her field of vision reached the back of the heads of the two dark-haired twin boys seated well on the living room sofa, both facing away from their mother, while on the television shined the color of some video game with wild explosions and bursts of digitized powers.
So she waited. She waited because there was nothing to do but wait; an agonized vein brandishing within the walls of her skull.
It didn't take more than seconds for the answer to come, however - even though, to Wanda's apprehensive perspective, the seconds took the form of minutes, and the minutes made up the whole of an hour, until your voice came from the phone pressed to your wife's intent ear.
“Hey, baby,” was what you said at first, to the deepest delight of your wife's spirits.
For Wanda, her heart blew out and she snorted, exhaling a limp sigh through her nose.
“Hi, honey,” had then greeted the enchantress, slowly dissipating the simple grip of her fingers against the phone, “Hi… hi. Hi malyshka. Hey.”
“Hey...?” there was an intonation of confused questioning, sort of as if you were smiling ambiguously on the other end of the line.
“Wanda, honey, is everything okay? You sound kinda... weird. Did something happen? Are the boys okay?"
“We’re okay yeah,” she sighed, the tips of her left fingers sweeping a strand of long hair behind her free ear outline, “It's just…I'm just relieved you're okay, baby.”
“Ah, my love,” you smiled small, even though so far away she didn't see it, she only felt it.
“Of course I'm fine, Wands. The mission is going well and so far I've only had to kick one colonizing alien ass, so... I consider this a victory. Hah. But I’ll be home to you and the boys soon, right? Soon, baby.”
“They miss you. And I... I miss you too, malysh...” Wanda hummed, releasing the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in her lungs.
“I miss you too, baby,” you sighed, half apologetically, even if nonverbally doing so, “You and the boys. But I'll be right back, okay? Be right back. Just a few more days, honey. By the beginning of next week we will be back to Earth and I will be home at the first opportunity. Promise.”
“Yeah, I… I know,” she repositioned her lower back against the hard marble counter, “I'm sorry I called like that and worried you, but it's just… Billy's been having those nightmares again, and... I wish you were here, Y/n."
“You don't need to apologize for anything, Wands. You know I love talking to you. And I… I wanted to be there too,” at your words she smiled lovingly against her phone, just moving up the corner of her peach lips.
“But hey, is Billy having these nightmares again? Damn, he must be scared. He’s fine? Is Tommy okay? He tends to worry a lot about Bill at these times.”
“He's fine, both of them are. But, he... he dreamed of you, Y/n. That you were having problems with the mission. And you know he has this magical connection to the astral plane, that sometimes he sees things that no one else sees, so I... I got worried, malysh. I thought it might be real this time.”
Her voice was stung, a thread sustained by a feeling that, even on the other side of the galaxy, she knew how to say that it hurt inside your chest.
“I'm fine, Wands,” you reassured her in a tiny tone, matching hers, imbued with affection as if you were even cuddled there with her on the blandness of your own bed, whispering security words in her ear.
“I promise I'm fine. We're all fine around here. And soon I’ll return to Earth, right? Just one more week, honey.”
“Okay,” Wanda mussed in a comfortable echo, recalling the facts as if to soothe her own worries, “Just one more week.”
“I love you, my little witch. I can't wait to go home and kiss you all over that pretty face of yours."
“I love you too, Y/n,” she smiled. “Very, very much. Just be careful out there, okay?”
“I'll be careful, honey. I’ll come home in one piece for you, I promise.”
With the eventual termination of the call, there was a measly second that Wanda took to look down at the blistered ruby in the outline of the wedding ring on her left finger.
With her right thumb she stroked the crimson-cut gemstone, studying it in an affectionate gaze that mirrored the first time she'd done it so many years ago, allowing a small, chaste smile to creep into the pulp of her lips. Only one more week was the intended promise. Wanda could always wait for you for just one more week.
But it was in a wide, crackling globe, flames still tender in their avid assiduous incandescence, just around the corner of the galaxy, where you found yourself so far from Westview, New Jersey – from Jersey to the world, and from the world to the vast longitude of the universe.
A enormous structure, blazing in stubborn embers, it projected a warm orange luminescence (like a stone of carnelian) straight into the macrocosm around it – the sun was a dwarf star situated in the wilderness of planet Earth for about forty-light-years of distance between their sidereal bodies, surrounding a giant, dead carcass that floated in space without a definite purpose in its principle.
In its orbit, in front of a triad of extrasolar rocks (the carcass of a deceased and monstrous Celestial creature), a celestial body integrated along its system a rotund belt of asteroids coming from the enormities of that dead being, heterogeneous cosmic dust circulating closely, like embers sprawled across the vastness of the eternal cosmos.
However, in the midst of such malformed rocks that had come loose from the body of the Celestial being, metallic infrastructures suspended like bridges were interconnected with each other in the spaceport of Exitar, in Knowhere, in a single chain of mercantilism in the local trading post, like a copious trade point erected in the most profuse concave of outer space.
With traffic areas branching from the spaceport towards the rocky edges of the asteroids, prefabricated housing complexes were crammed into multiple open circuits; shacks made of sheet metal, establishments no less than clandestine, saturated with an immoderate frenzy of travelers from all corners of the universe.
As a former member of the Nova Corps, born and raised on the planet of Xandar, located just outside the Tranta System, in the middle of the Andromeda galaxy, your life before Wanda was adorned by intergalactic travel on behalf of the Nova Empire that had given birth to you, until the moment when one of those missions to search for an interplanetary criminal guided you to the remote planet Earth, to meet the Avengers (and, consequently, with them, that beautiful girl with the piercing emerald eyes who would one day become your future wife).
It was customary in your nature, therefore, to venture into hyperspace. But that was your past, a long time, so far from your current reality – now you were a wife and a mother. The universe around you rotated at a different rotation than the others. Your whole life was back in New Jersey.
The spaceship had been parked there for you to enjoy a drink at a bar near the spaceport by an informal invitation made by that Quill guy, the Star Lord of the Guardians of the Galaxy himself, where the bay was integrated into amidst the caliginous vastness of hyperspace.
But those who descended behind the harbor, however, where the urbanization of buildings in vivid neon flourished (city and docks were segregated by a narrow border of space dust), were that admired young girl who was Kamala Khan, the teenage superhero then named as Miss Marvel, in the company of Monica Rambeau, to which you chose to stay behind and keep an eye on the ship.
“Hey kid. What are you still doing here, Y/n?”
The voice that reached your ears was that of Carol Danvers, however, as the golden-haired Captain in a beer-colored funnel cut approached you in relaxed strides, right into the spacecraft's cockpit.
Though she had lived long enough for her age to be even comparable to your mother's, Danvers was still decorated with exalted features in her firm jaw and well-shaped brows, appearing in her physique a healthy time in her life close to yours, and may even pass for a woman of similar age to your own. No soul who glanced at her would suppose that she was already closer to sixty years of age than thirty, or even approaching the graces of being forty.
“Wanted to stay here and miss out on all the fun? I heard that Kamala’s gonna challenge Quill to a dance off.”
“And I bet she's gonna crush him. She’s got the moves.”
Your giggle was half-airy, rehearsed, which Carol didn't miss, as she sat with both her elbows on her two bent knees inside the red, blue, and gold tactical outfit she so honorably wore, in a high-chair next to the one you were sitting on. The alien city sprang up in glowing neon enormities in front of the windshield of the parked spacecraft.
“So,” muttered the Captain, always so direct in her speech, her vision interspersed with a lock of medium-length, dirty-blond hair.
“Problems at home, kid? I saw your wife called you earlier. Is everyone okay? Did something happen?"
"No... I think?" you sighed.
“I mean, yes? They're fine, I think. I don't know. It's just that I'm kinda worried, Cap... Billy's having those nightmares of his again. It happens sometimes when I spend a lot of time away, he's a really worried kid. And, well… it's been almost a month, hasn't it?”
"Billy... your little boy, right?"
“Yeah, the youngest,” and then you sort of laughed, something that prompted a good-natured hoist of a dark brow from Carol.
“I mean, they're twins, but he's the youngest. Tommy keeps reminding him of this when they argue. I try to keep my composure, but… it's funny to watch.”
There was a goofy smile, with a healthy air of nostalgia that lit up the irises in your eyes as your chest swelled into your own blue and gold tactical outfit characteristic of the Nova Corps, little by little like a balloon, of maternal, affable, love of unparalleled uniqueness – it was your children you spoke so proudly of, after all.
Your children with Wanda, a unique combination of your best and hers too. Your greatest prize to keep and treasure in life.
“Sorry, it's just that… I miss her. Them.”
“It's okay, Y/n,” Carol reassured you, giving you the tiniest smug smile, “I… I know how it is. You know, being away from your family for so long. Your wife, your kid. To be… be away from the people you love.”
And then there was a look with a meaning you had no idea how to unravel, whereupon the Captain's smile faltered into a wavering shiver, fading like a scribble on the beach's edge washed by a wave of salt water. In the crimson material that made up the upper part of her suit, her Herculean shoulders seemed to tense into her broad-shouldered muscles for a while.
"You feel like you're missing things, don't you?" there was a haggard outline in the dark gaze of the woman older than you.
“That maybe you can come back and… things are different than they were when you left. That what you left behind no longer will be what you will find when you return.”
You blinked once and Carol maintained a thread of silence that lasted for a few counted seconds, her dark eyes roaming the metallic floor of the spacecraft.
It didn't take long for your cognition to dilute the Captain's lines like a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces neatly fitted in your brain; the individual hidden in the reflection was Monica, of course, who had once seen the Captain as more of a figure than her team leader – in another life, at another time, Carol, then in an enduring relationship with her mother, had been a maternal figure to that woman who now went by the name of Photon.
The blonde took a profuse gulp of oxygen before again lifting her steady face towards you.
“We'll drop you off at home in two days, Y/n,” the other woman then said, even though she caught you off guard with the new information.
"What?!" you raised both your eyebrows to the middle of your forehead, frowning, “But we still have to go to Morag and then to Xandar! That–that’s another week of travel!”
“I'm sure Nova Prime won't mind if we delay a few days after we've managed to catch a criminal none of them have been able to catch before,” Carol half shrugged, placing a strong open palmed hand over your right shoulder.
“No need to worry, kid. You deserve to be home with your family, take a break for a while, spend time with your wife and kids. Some things... some things are not worth losing in life.”
There was a second of thoughtful silence adorned by the aluminum of the ship's interior.
“Well… thanks, Cap,” you acknowledged her with a sincere smile, as the blonde woman stood on her navy-clad knees.
“Don't worry about it,” she placed both hands at her sides, in a typical triumphant hero pose that caused a ripple of comicality in her actions.
“But how about a drink to celebrate your vacation, huh? I promise I won't tell your boss if you don't."
When you rose from the high-chair, standing before Captain Marvel in all her glory, you only laughed thinly, shaking your head playfully from side to side. It would be fun to surprise you dedicated wife a little, back on Earth.
The nighttime darkness was still brewing solemnly over the placid sleeping Westview when Wanda opened one eyelid and then the other, both blurred with a comfortable feeling of pure sleep. She let out a languid yawn through her soft lips, and blinked for a long time. Her right wrist wandered up to her stunned face, emerging from the den of the silk sheets, and brushed against her left eye, which throbbed with an imaginary itch.
Even with her foggy vision, she managed to catch the neon green numbers “03” and “35” that glinted on the dim face of her digital clock, placed on the headboard just beside her bed, next to a porcelain lamp.
But before she could turn across the length of the vast double bed she shared with her wife, she felt a soothing touch spread up her left thigh to the exposed skin above her navel, and a bashful nose set in between her warm locks of dark hair, close to the skin of the nape of her neck.
Your firm arms encircled her from behind, and, with melodious lips, you had placed a long kiss on the contour of her neck, in the region of its junction with her left shoulder, to which the strap of the scarlet nightgown she wore on her body had fallen.
“Y/n...?” she mussed, still a little sleepy-drunk, though soon waking up in front of her face, “Y/n, what are you…? You... you came back. You came back early...”
You smiled against the pale skin at the back of her neck, where you kissed her warmly a second time that night, inhaling the scent of her moisturizer and shampoo.
“Not as early as I expected, actually. I wanted to get back before you guys went to bed… but hey, it's late” your tiny voice rang through the room, which before was dominated by a constant silence, broken only by small cicadas in the distance.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here when you wake up in the morning.”
"You will?"
Wanda purred like a sleepy cat, her heavy lids returning to her emerald eyes. Barely, and somewhat needy, she snuggled against your warm body, pulling you close, a lazy little smile playing across her wet lips.
“Of course I will, baby,” you mussed, “I'll be here for you.”
“I missed you, detka. I've missed you so much…” Wanda sighed softly, her hand going over yours in a sleepy, needy grip.
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” you whispered against her ear, nestling your forehead against the fragrant back of Wanda's neck, your fingers warm over her stomach, roaming the skin present there in imaginary traces.
“I really missed you so much.”
Once again there was silence. For a brief moment, you could feel Wanda's grip a little tense against your forearm that encircled her waist.
“Wait… do you still have your tactical gear on?”
“Eh,” you snorted, “No?”
And there were a few minutes spent like that, just between the sleepy caresses exchanged between you and your wife.
Kisses and touches reciprocated at the height of dawn as in a guarantee that you, in fact, were there for her, in the comfort of your bed, when was that the bedroom door opened slightly, as if what had done was just a summer breeze that had passed through every room in the house. You lifted your head from your wife's hair to find out what was going on there, at the foot of the bed.
Tommy's tiny left fingers were screwed into the doorknob, while the little boy's right hand was bringing with it Billy's forearm, who was standing behind him. The older twin was wearing pajamas with small dinosaur figures on his torso, while the younger boy was snoring to the blandishments of a half sleep in pajamas full of racing car figures.
“Hmm, boys…?” Wanda hummed, calling out in a sleepy voice that faded into the dark.
“Mama?” Tommy called back in a groggy sleepy thin voice, his iris eyes lavishing the same hue as yours half pressed down in a newly awakened, still half asleep mood, “Billy… Billy had another bad dream—”
“Mommy!”
The younger's voice, however, was energetic as it reverberated through the room, before a smudge of racing cars darted towards you, slamming into your chest as Billy spilled the room to knock you backwards, back to length of the mattress in an avid laugh.
Tommy, then awakened by his brother's avidity, soon tried to go with a bright smile to you, who snuggled both the twin boys close to your body warm.
“My little demon spawns! Hi!” you instantly erupted, placing warm kisses on the two boys' cheeks, “Hi, my little dudes. Hi. My God, I've missed you two so much..."
Wanda poured her sleepy face towards you, and you sighed, holding a steady gaze with the other woman – and it was a look elaborated in such amenity which Wanda bestowed upon you, with so much esteem and appreciation for her green irises, that you have not been able to contain in your core the radiant sensation of a warm softness, swelling your chest in profuse benevolence.
A constricted knot formed at the bottom of your esophagus, just to the middle of your torso, and your throat constricted in an exorbitant rush of unsyllabic emotions, which constrained the pulsing organ inside your chest, just so that the latter, in turn, would expand, so that the blood running through the branch of veins in your body would radiate into a tender, warm sensation of latent love.
“When did you come back, mom?” questioned Tommy, who had his small body supplanted by your right forearm.
“Please don't take too long to come back again, mommy."
Billy begged in sequence, his little face hidden in the gap that joined your neck to your left shoulder, pressing the material of your shirt between his hands as if he didn't want to let you go anytime soon.
“We miss you,” the little boy mussed against your skin, “I dreamed that you got hurt and couldn't come home anymore… I was scared, mommy. I was so afraid you wouldn't be able to come home anymore.”
You snorted, spraying the oxygen trapped in your lungs, an explosive softness in your heart light as a feather. You didn't want him to feel that way about you; that none of them would feel that way anymore. And so you blinked, flinching for a while, when it was that your vision clouded over in an aggregation of a sudden warm feeling that ached in your chest.
But Wanda came to the boy's support, gently in a caress imbued with maternal affability as she stroked the length of his back through the comfortable fabric of his pajamas, placing a long kiss on the back of Billy's head, between the short locks of light brown hair, giving off a mild scent of children's shampoo.
“Mommy's here now, baby,” she said in a low tone, looking at you over your son's head, “She's here for us.”
“Yeah,” you smiled small, turning your head at two broken angles to so, then, kiss each boy's forehead into your arms, “I'm here with you guys now. I’m here for you. All of you.”
The bright innocuous hue of cyan blue lit up the high morning sky, when did Billy and Tommy, quite energetic in their bustling activities befitting two bustling rosy-cheeked children, chuckled and kicked a football at each other across the backyard to enjoy the warm summer sun.
They did right after breakfast when you urged them to do so, with no room for further disagreements – Wanda, drenched in the sun, had spread a soft blanket on the green grass for her to get well. Your wife was reading a book of classic Sokovian literature while you ran after your two children.  
Even if Tommy was just a white-shirted, green-sneakered embezzler cavorting across the grass, in nimble impulses which even amounted those who an average child would reach, you, in turn, after a long hour of kicking the ball to Billy (because Tommy wasn't much of a team sportsman himself) was just a figure lying on the sultry serenities, spread across the blanket with a swath of sunlight interspersed with your forearm, the tip of your nose pointing skyward.
You filled your chest with air, feeling a warm touch on your convex cheekbone, accompanied by a warm finger stroke. When you looked up you saw Wanda's face loaded with a small smile, sitting next to you – her brows furrowed and her eyes sweet, full of tenderness. Silently, she had smiled back at you, not showing her teeth.
“Hi, little witch.”
“Hi, detka,” Wanda whispered in a snuggled breath, tracing the perimeter of your brow arch with the soft digits of her delicate index and middle fingers.
“Your kids tired you, huh?”
“What's fighting a whole bunch of intergalactic bandits compared to playing soccer with your kids on a Sunday afternoon, right?” your voice was low and gentle, and she flowered a wry smile along her lips.
“But hey, I need to tell you something.”
“Something, huh?” Mouth dry and eyelashes fluttering as her eyes closed, Wanda made a vague sound of curiosity camouflaged beneath a limp smile.
“Yeah,” you propped yourself up on your elbows then, lifting your upper body from the checkered picnic blanket.
“I… I'm thinking of leaving the troop, Wanda. For good. I’ll be staying at home with you and the boys.”
On your wife's part, there was only a confused frown.
“But… baby, you,” she compressed her lips for half a second into a long pink line.
“All your life, you've always… you've always liked what you do, Y/n. I don't want you to give up doing what you love just to stay home watching some sitcoms and gardening with me—”
“Hey, hey,” you soothed her with a complacent smile, interspersed with sunlight as you adjusted your posture, “I want to do this, Wands."
Your left hand was splayed on Wanda's pale right knee, warmed by the blazing sun between the vault of the sky, the skin exposed by the red length of the fine summer dress your wife wore buttoned to her chest, granting there a caress to comfort her nerves.
“I really want to, you know? And I mean it. My whole life I've been going from planet to planet, fighting bad guys and getting my ass kicked, but… I think it's time for me to settle down, I guess. To spend more time with my family. With my amazing, gorgeous, perfect wife and my amazing—”
“Mama, Billy hexed the ball to keep hitting me!”
You and Wanda exchanged sunny looks for a measly second.
“Well, they’re,” you raised both your eyebrows, “Something.”
“They definitely are,” Wanda chuckled for a bit, before leaning forward to kiss your shoulder under the flannel shirt you wore open to your chest.
“But are you sure, honey? This is... a considerable change in your lifestyle. And I don't want you to give up anything for me.”
“Of course I'm sure, my love. I don't wanna miss any of this” you gestured between you and her with your right hand, “Anymore. I don't wanna be away from my family, Wanda. I wanna be here and share every moment, every experience, with them. With you, my little witch.”
You soon felt a gentle touch on the top of your cheekbone, accompanied by a warm finger stroke. Tilting your gaze to the side, you came across Wanda's face laden with a small smile – your wife's furrowed brows and sweet jadish eyes, warm as the sunbeams illuminating them. You'd smiled back at her and, in a gentle cut, with your eyes closed to just feel the moment, you bent down to capture the pulp of Wanda's lips with yours.
“Mommy!” Billy brandished from a distance, “Tommy is kicking the ball high so I can't catch it!”
“No I'm not, mom, he's lying! He's a doofus!”
“He’s lying that I'm lying, mama! And I'm not a doofus!"
"Eh," you sighed against your wife's lips, the tips of your noses brushing, your eyes so close together that her dark pupils were like two abyssal pools bordered by an emerald outline.
“Duty calls, right?”
“Didn't you say you wanted to live that life now, mommy?”
Her giggle came right after an amused eye roll from you.
"Very funny, little witch," and before you stood up, you once again stole a peck on Wanda's lips, "Very, very funny."
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