The lounge buzzed with low conversation, clinks of coffee mugs, and the occasional sarcastic quip. Scott and Peter were in a heated Mario Kart battle on the flat-screen, while Tony lounged across the sectional couch, lazily twirling a screwdriver in one hand, half-listening and half-tuning up a small drone.

“I'm just saying,” Clint announced, “if a raccoon can be considered a Guardian of the GaIaxy, then I should be able to lead the Avengers at least once a week. Equal fur rights.”

“You’re not even the most competent archer in the room,” Natasha muttered, not looking up from her book.

“That’s cold, Nat,” Clint pouted.

Bruce was reclined in a chair with a calming podcast playing in his earbuds, while Wanda and Vision sat cozily by the window, sipping tea. Shuri and Sam were arguing over who actually won the last round of chess, both of them animatedly pointing to the digital board. T’Challa observed with his usual air of amusement.

“You’re both wrong,” Loki said, perched like a smug cat on the arm of a chair. “The true winner is chaos, and I claim it.”

Carol smirked and tossed a pillow at him.

Just then, the front door opened with a dramatic creak, and in walked her—the embodiment of chaos no one wanted.

Hair perfectly curled, lip gloss shining, wearing a cropped Avengers tank top tied strategically above her navel, she swayed in with the kind of forced confidence that reeked of curated Instagram lives and weaponized insecurities.

“Omigod,” she gasped. “I didn’t know all of you were gonna be here! I thought it was just gonna be me and Tony. We totally vibed at that last gala, remember?” She leaned dramatically toward Tony, batting eyelashes aggressively.

Tony blinked once, then looked at Bruce. “Is that a concussion protocol I smell? Or did someone bring their delusion in a bottle?”

She giggled. “You’re sooo funny, Tony. But not like dork funny, like… charmingly misunderstood. I bet you're just so deep underneath all the sarcasm.”

Bruce slowly took out his earbuds and whispered, “Help.”

“Wait, are you Natasha?” she asked suddenly, turning to Nat like she was discovering mold on a croissant. “Wow, you look… tougher in person. I could never pull off that whole vibe, you know? I’m more of a soft girl in a hard world. You must just, like, not care what people think.”

Natasha didn’t even blink. “You’re right. I don’t.”

Peter coughed loudly to hide his laugh. Shuri didn’t bother.

The girl turned to Bucky with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you must be the Winter Soldier. That’s sooo hot. Like, tragic hot. I love a man with trauma.”

Bucky’s eye twitched.

Steve sighed. “Bucky, I give you full permission to walk into the ocean.”

“Tempting,” Bucky muttered.

Undeterred, she spun on her heel and dramatically threw herself onto the couch between Loki and Thor. “Gods, huh? That’s just soooo sexy. I’ve always felt like I was meant to be worshipped, you know? Maybe in another life, I was a goddess too.”

“Not one of mine,” Loki deadpanned, scooting away.

“Midgardians grow weirder every year,” Thor murmured, blinking slowly.

“Wanda!” the girl squealed. “You’re soooo pretty! I wish I had powers like you. But I’d probably be dangerous too. I’m such a Scorpio.”

Wanda turned to Vision, expression unreadable. “Can I hex her? Just a little? Like… a vaporization spell?”

“That would not be ethical,” Vision replied.

“I know,” Wanda sighed. “Still worth asking.”

“Oh, and Strange,” the girl added, turning now to Stephen like a rotating sprinkler of awkwardness, “you have, like, the best hands. I bet you could just—”

“—Nope.” Stephen held up a hand.

She pouted. “You guys are just intimidated because I’m not like other girls.”

Tony smirked. “You mean ‘not like other girls’… as in ‘not invited’?”

Scott, still holding his controller, grinned. “I dunno, you remind me of every ‘choose me’ girl on TikTok. Y’know, the ones who say ‘I just get along better with guys’ while actively lighting every woman in the room on fire."