#bc i'm of the mindset that you should post everything as if you have a large audience. cause you never know who'll see it

[preeningpisces]

Non-curse AU! Choso is a big ol' nerd

A/N: As a big ol' nerd myself I feel passionately about this, so I have way too many thoughts repost bc it wasn't showing in the tag for some reason

Below the cut because I'm a yapper!

♠ Definitely the type to meet his S/O through discord because I think non-curse Choso is much shyer than regular Choso

❥ He wouldn’t be an admin. He’d be the quiet type that’s always there reacting to posts but rarely talks. Has the sickest emotes tho

❥ Prefers smaller discord communities, mostly video game servers

❥ I think he'd like the vaporwave aesthetic and all the RBG setups. Keeps his computer area neat and tidy

❥ Choso fucking loves video games. He'll buy those $300 special edition pre-orders and get the cool figures

❥ HUGE Soulsborne fan. His favorite is Bloodborne (on the nose but I couldn't resist). Also really loves Monster Hunter. Cares a lot about the monster's details, like their eating habits. I think his fave would either be Odogaron, Nargacuga or Zinogre.

❥ Picks the edgiest weapons lmfao. Definitely a longsword user in Monster Hunter. Went blood build in Elden Ring

❥ *Sigh* he does consult reddit for his builds and is a min-maxer. I'm afraid Choso is a reddit user but in a 'I need a thorough understanding of this' kind of way

❥ Function over fashion: he dgaf if that helmet is as ugly as sin, it gives him +2 endurance and he's gonna wear it

❥ Lets you create his character & name them & everything.

❥ If you can't be present for the character creation portion, he'll make his character you! Definitely made you his dream guardian in Baldur's Gate 3 (which in the early access was called the Dream Lover, which is even cuter)

❥ Not pretentious at all about what is/isn't gaming, and plays all sorts of genres

❥ LOVES NINTENDO GAMES. Mario has a special place in his heart. DEFINITELY mains Shy Guy in Mario Kart

❥ Will literally cry and die if you play video games with him. You don't have to be good because he'll happily teach you. Just watching him play and asking about the details will make his day

❥ Definitely would do those cute Animal Crossing museum dates. Loves the relaxing, chill music so much. Despite his min-maxer approach to other games, he's absolutely not a time traveler in Animal Crossing. He's of the mindset that it ruins one of the core features of the game

❥ Stardew Valley? Stardew Valley. Honestly, I can't decide who he romanced first. My heart is telling me Leah, but chat pls advise

❥ Speaking of chat, you just know he's a fan of let's players. Always watching a YouTuber or Twitch Streamer. He's a Markiplier fan. You know it, just accept it

❥ Tbh that's a cute thought: Choso being a fan of the reader that's a small twitch streamer. Should that be a thing?

❥ Really good at singleplayer games. AWFUL at pvp

❥ He'll play something like Fortnite or Overwatch for Yuji, but needs to be hard carried because he only plays when someone asks him to. He can't stand how toxic those communities are, and doesn't want to socialize with strangers just to play a game

❥ He gets HEATED SO EASILY when people are toxic, especially if it's directed at Yuji or someone else he cares about. Definitely the type to step in and check other ppl when they're being toxic. Like those clips where it's a woman in a lobby and the dudes all start being sexist. Choso will not let that shit fly!

❥ Teabag him if you want to see him lose his shit

❥ On the note of Overwatch: the only character he can and will play is Mercy, and he just pockets Yuuji the whole time. Yuji has to beg him to heal/boost their teammates

[strangegutz]

Idk if you need to hear this or not or whatever but I like your art. All of it.

I love hearing about your ocs, seeing your drawings, and your dolls once you finish them! I don't know why a big chunk of your audience just... doesn't care about your drawings, but I hope you know that it ain't all right to me.

I think some people see you as this doll-creating machine when you're not. I think it's mostly because the attitude towards art and posting art online has been super tainted by tiktok and such. Viewing art as something to just look at for a moment rather than taking just a little more time to think about even just the work that goes into it.

Anyways I think you shouldn't have to take that, and you do not need to apologize for just making other art. It's your blog and you're a grown man, post whatever you feel like, if people really don't like that they can just kick bricks.

I guess I don't know you in full, but I guess you have posted about sometimes needing the money that comes from your art, so I suppose that sometimes it could be hard to apply the same mindset that an unemployed dropout that has the stability of their parents to support them has. But I guess I'm saying that it isn't right, people's attitude towards you sometimes.

Anon you're totally right, should say it, I do need to hear it, and I completely agree, and also hear everything u say in the back of my head.

Instead of an angel and devil on my shoulders I have "it's so over" and "we're so back" fairies and the "it's so over" one is really loud and makes me anxiety post online and apologize profusely for drawing beefy dudes when most people are just waiting for more orange slices LOL

I really don't have any ill will towards people that like one over the other (though I do feel relief when people prefer my OCs bc I'm thirsty for it) but it does make me sad when people straight up unfollow over it (that's why I tag things!) because I love them so much. And I get a tad frustrated when the dolls I really like are overshadowed by ones I really don't care for. That's just how it is on this bitch of an Earth, people will like what they like and can curate their experience however they want though. The frustration is personal and nobodies fault

I do assume that everyone is being fair and understands how much time art takes, but yeah some folks crawl out of the woodwork not realizing These Things Take Time. I can only go so fast, everything is sculpted and sewn by hand!

But yes, at the end of the day this is just straight up my art blog, and I post my art here. I appreciate every single set of eyes on my art, I'm thankful for love I get, and I am especially grateful to everyone that just wants to see whatever the hell I have to offer

[wizardsix]

I can't remember who said this but there was this one dev who said that when making romanceable characters they have to be attractive in some way (personality, looks, not too morally fucked up etc). and since I read that, the statement hasn't left my mind and I'm very aware now of whenever outside influence and modern discourse get to me or other writers. like just yesterday I found myself rewriting a scene to be more "comfortable" to witness, even though the point was to be emotionally charged and face a difficult topic the character had been actively lying about. but some things can't be glossed over. sometimes it's good when media grabs you by the shoulders and makes you face horrible shit. it's good when media makes you uncomfortable even if it's coming from a ~romanceable companion~. that means it's working. if you remain comfortable forever you learn nothing.

I bring this up bc the veilguard companions are the perfect example and victims of the "romanceable characters need to be attractive" mindset. they don't have ugly sides, they don't fight with each other--and I mean really fight--they don't have controversial opinions or do problematic things. they don't ever question your authority over their lives and why you're the guy in charge. they are nice and perfect and their problems aren't really that serious and can be fixed by simply having a therapy session w rook (bc being possessed or gaining new magic isn't a big deal in a world where previously such events are Very distressing and hard to control). they are further proof that trying too hard to make something attractive has the complete opposite effect if your brain isn't the size of a pebble.

it's overall very frustrating that big game developers continue to be so spineless and I'm not giving anyone a pass for shallow writing, especially from a franchise that is known to have complex characters. none of this is impressive after the first three dragon age games, which were well loved and dissected and debated for years after their release. that isn't to say these games don't have kind characters, having that balance is why I personally like dark fantasy and liked what the dragon age games offered (whenever the writing was good..). it's not dark for the sake of being dark (see grimdark), there's a reason why these things are happening, and in this world no one is completely innocent even if they have good intentions. most people like when their characters aren't always kind or agreeable, bc it's extremely rewarding to finally find that middle ground (of course I have to bring up larian, who made bg3 and proved just how much people appreciate flawed characters, see astarion). conflict is the driving force of a story, no matter what it is. even the most sickeningly sweet cozy slice of life story will have some kind of conflict. it's unavoidable. that's life. taking that away is setting yourself up for failure and all that remains is a boring story full of boring people. no one cares about characters who have their lives together.

(the post is technically over but I wanted to put some final thoughts under the cut bc this got longer than I meant)

I want to go back to the statement real quick... like i do agree, it's true as writers we'll subconsciously (or consciously if you're insecure) try to make our characters appealing, but this is the common trap writers fall into by giving a shit about what others think and want from Their work (which btw I fully believe in writing what you want even if it's "bad" because something with genuine soul will never be as bad as soulless cashgrabs). romanceable characters can and should be as flawed as you'd make any other character, bc trust me there's an audience for everything. even a random npc with two lines will be attractive to someone.

the pressure of an imaginary audience is what pushes writers into a corner and prevents writers from writing and exploring what They want. it's the writer's story first, not the audience's. I think the romanceable companion trap can be easily avoided if writers just 1) grow a bit of a backbone and 2) ask themselves if this is even a necessary or insightful mechanic that will help develop a character further. ask themselves if this character even has the capacity to handle a romantic relationship bc everything else is subjective and it's impossible to appeal to everyone (which apparently this is a controversial take). I won't sit here and pretend that I don't appreciate a good romance, but sometimes all someone really needs is a friend.

obsidian is a good example of self aware devs. they tried to do romance for pillars of eternity 2 bc of fan demand, and it didn't work very well. now for avowed, they didn't explore romance bc they know it's not their strong suit and don't feel it's necessary for this story, instead that time and effort went to developing the characters in other meaningful ways. I have nothing but respect for such a decision bc they know what they want from their story instead of lying and trying to be everything at once. less is more as they say.

[letters-of-libertas]

The type of people you hang around can make or break who you are as a person. Networking/relationships are a big aspect of our lives & as much as I prefer being alone, as social creatures the people we interact with influence us more than we know so it's important to hang around people that will influence you in a positive way. Shorter post is here.

That said, types of women/red flags to avoid:

Women who always complain about everything or play victim. These type of women feel like they're too good for everything, they always complain about everything, they always got something negative to say about something, they always find negatives & lament on it in every situation. Every time you're around them all they do is just constantly complain about shit non stop. They complain about how someone did something or the environment was a certain way. I get life is hard but at the same time life is hard for everybody (PS avoid the trap of being someone's unpaid therapist). Women constantly complaining about things is just burdening you & the reason it's a red flag is because these type of people tend to be miserable and their misery will spread to you. These women also lack accountability, things in life is always someone elses fault and people with this mindset are dangerous to be around because they believe they're always right & everyone else is always wrong so when you stay around these people you end up being sucked into their whirlwind of emotions at the end of the day and at some point you'll see how they are the problem. Life is hard enough as is dont add to it by being around people who always complain about problems as if you dont have problems of your own. These women also tend to be very sensitive aswell which is likely the cause of most of their problems. Also, it makes these cowardly women disrespect you bc you're an easier target to get their frustration out on compared to the unfamiliar. It's okay to complain here and there but making it a constant thing is a red flag.

Women who often -subtly- put you down. They always have something condescending to say. Like no matter what you achieve or how happy you are they'll have something backhanded to say to put you down. They'll try & pass it as a joke or a neutral comment but best believe it's intentionally malicious. This & the previous point tends to manifest together because miserable people will constantly seek & live off negativity. It's so subtle that when you confront them it'll look like you're overreacting. They're trying to make you feel insignificant & you dont need that energy around you.

Women who seek to embarass you or dont acknowledge you in front of others. 1-1 y'all are cool but in front of a group they act different like making "jokes" about you to make you look stupid. They'll try & pass it off as banter but these type of people are snakes. If you have the wit to put them in their place do it but you generally dont need to be around them.

Women who always make excuses. Either to hang out or generally (this only applies for perceived close relationships). For example you haven't seen them in ages but they dont wanna hang out or talk unless they need something from you. Now I'm not saying this like you're entitled to other people's time or you gotta connect often but it's about moving accordingly; if you're clearly not a priority or dont matter in someone elses life then you should also treat them the same. I'm not saying friends gotta drop everything to be with or help you all the time but when there's always an excuse with you but these excuses aren't present when it comes to other people then that's a red flag.

Women who constantly tell you when other people say something bad about you. This may appear to be good at first however unless it's a thing where your life is in danger & it's out of their control to do something about it or it's best for you to know for safety (which is rarely the case); there's no point. Someone telling you xyz said something about you is pointless unless they're looking to stir up drama or make you feel like crap cause regardless of what was said; what did your "friend" do or say in the moment. See, if that friend fucks with or is loyal to you they'd cut the convo short, defend your name & wouldn't need to tell you anything cause the situation has been handled as if you were there and then they'd move on. If the behaviour is consistent then you also have to question why a supposed friend is constantly around people that dont fw you, why are they constantly in places where they're saying bad things about you. At the very least they were silent as others disrespected you & they didn't care or at the very most they joined in. If it's the former they're spineless weasels that will eventually fuck you over, if it's the latter they're snakes that dont like you much either. Note that even if there's a level of truth to the critism, there's ways to get the message across as a friend w/out mentioning gossip or tolerating slander. I'm not saying your friends cant be friends w/ people you dont like but constantly telling you when people chat shit about you is shady. Also I dont care about excuses if they dont defend you they dont care about you.

Yes-gyns. Women who always blindly agree with everything you say. They're not real and you want people that will be real with you. As friends & people generally we all help one another in some way so if you were going astray & they can't be real with you that's unhelpful (now ofc others aren't responsible for your life in the end). However the bigger problem with yes-gyns is that they're two-faced. They'll smile in your face but are snakes behind your back and when you least expect it they'll double cross you. Also friendships with them are boring anyways, it helps to have people check you sometimes. Who'll pull you to the side & talk to you for your own good. So keep yes-gyns at bay. Also add people pleasing women here, same thing applies those women will put you in danger.

MaIe-crazy women. Also includes the "I'm not like other girls/I only get along with guys". This one is generally self explanatory but maIe centered women are dangerous and will put you in harms way for maIe validation. Women who center maIes will use you under the name of "sisterhood" but they dont care about you. Also friendships with them are exhausting as everything just leads back to maIes.

Women who dont respect boundaries. Boundaries are important guardrails for relationships & if there's no boundaries or boundaries aren't respected things will spiral out of control and end horribly. Part of why so many female friendships end terribly is bc there's no boundaries in the relationship. It's just vibes of connecting until the bubble inevitably bursts & all the built up pressure is released. If people cant respect your boundaries, cut them off & find people that will respect you + your boundaries.

Women who are always around when you're in trouble. If you're constantly getting into fights, feeling down, or engaging in bad habits & this "friend" is constantly an active agent or present there's a high chance they're setting you up to fail.

If you're thinking of someone as you're reading all of this or the moment you saw "friendship red flags" - it's a sign. Best believe 9/10 times the same red flags you see during the relationship are going to be the ones that end the relationship. You dont have to explain to them why you're not fucking with them anymore, nobody is owed your presence. You dont have to associate with people that negatively impact your life, move on. If you constantly feel worse rather than better after interacting w/ a "friend" then that's no friend. It's daunting at first but you'll never find "your people" that love & respect you as you are if you're wasting time with toxic friends.

I know all of this is generic but my page is aimed towards single childfree women & as SCW the people you have around you has a significant impact on your life. Women who positively add to your life will elevate you and things will be easier, the opposite will happen with women who negatively add to your life.

[quirkle2]

JUST READ EVERYTHING THERE IS ABOUT THE ZOMBIE AU !!!!! LOVE THIS SO MUCH WAAAA

you mentioned that ritsu, by the end of the story, is broken and practically insane. once shigeo is cured and "back to normal," i'm guessing that ritsu doesn't exactly go back to "being normal" either :( he'd gone through too much to be the same after everything... do you think he ever goes back to old habits and treats mob like he's still a zombie, only to be shellshocked at the fact that it's all over?

also this au is very reminiscent of this post (grieving the undead) https://www.tumblr.com/applejuicewerewolf/735120232698593280/no-need-to-keep-this-in-the-tags-youre

WEEEE IMSO GLAD U LIKE IT it's the direct result of my brainworms

yes ritsu is definitely Not Normal by the end and he should be put into therapy immediately. poor kid's seen way too much at way too young of an age, and he's been put through unreal amounts of stress that is definitely not good for a growing brain. he most certainly does not go back to "normal" when mob is cured, and much like his brother, he's never quite the same as he was before

he Absolutely has trouble squashing old habits, yes. he tends to just Do Shit for mob that he's fully capable of doing now, no matter how simple, bc as a zombie mob couldn't rly do all that. he opens food packages for him automatically, he unlatches doors even though mob is perfectly capable of Figuring Out a Lock. sometimes when it's raining ritsu will even pull mob's hood over his head—he used to do that for him when he was a zombie, to keep the rain off him, even if zombie mob didn't rly give a damn if it was raining or not

if mob were anybody else, he'd prolly find it a bit insulting, but instead he finds it kind of amusing most of the time

sometimes he grabs mob's hand and leads him around and it's only when they're like halfway there that he realizes what he's doing. mob doesn't particularly mind, but when his goal is elsewhere and they're aiming for different places he has to go "ritsu ..." and it's this awkward blinking session like . oh .right. yes.ofc

i think mob would ? maybe get a little annoyed at the hovering that ritsu totally unintentionally does. he hovers so closely bc zombie mob never rly minded, or ,, noticed. so now that he's back to "human" levels of awareness it is . extremely obvious. and it's not even that ritsu is Worried, it's just like he's spent so long Hovering and Fretting that it's just kinda second nature to him now

it's a strange role-reversal—it's very weird for mob to wake up and have scattered memories of the last two years, and suddenly feel like he's the younger brother instead. ritsu is now the caretaker, and it's... strange. and honestly, the first real goal mob has in mind after waking up and recovering for a while is settling back into the role of older brother. it's important to him

but much like how reigen now has trouble corralling that kid, mob has some difficulty getting ritsu to settle back into it too. he's too high-strung and stressed and permanently scarred to rest and let people take care of him, too used to being the caretaker himself. for the longest time he was forced into the mindset of, "you stop, you die," so ritsu keeps going bc his instincts r shot and he feels like he's in danger all the time

after a while of gentle nudging, mob gets the hang of convincing ritsu to lean on people, to lean on him, but mob is quietly distraught at the overall state of ritsu's mental well-being. it takes him a while to rly get a grasp of how bad it truly is, but once he realizes the damage, he's .. so fuckin upset w himself for letting this happen to his brother

as if it's rly his fault at all, but he regrets being slow and getting overrun by that zombie horde to begin with. maybe if he hadn't turned, ritsu would be a lot better off now—they woulda been able to join a settlement, and live in a place where there is supplies and food and clothing and other people to talk to other than your mumbling brother who no longer fully understands you. it likely would've spared him a lot of trauma

and alsoYES that post is EXACTLY it the concept of mourning a person u still see every day is ougougouhoguhg ,., .,witsu ..................

[tireddovahkiin]

CW: VENT POST!!! mentions of depression/indirect mention of suicidal thoughts/unhealthy coping mechanisms

Y'all I've come to a conclusion that seeing self ship doubles MAKES ME MORE SAD THAN SEEING CANON X CANON SHIPS-

Like bc- they actually dont bother me THAT much, I think of them more like a 'alternative cursed universe where there could always be a posibillity for crazy stuff' ship. Yk, like, how there COULD be an alternative universe out there where every president of a country have to wear a maid dress or something idfk-

the world is vast and we don't know SHIT about it

BUT THE FUCKING- ... DOUBLES...

It actually really really breaks my heart... Almost like I'm watching a "thief" take away my most valuable treasure, yk... No offense to any doubles out there, you're valid, and you're no thief, you cannot choose who you love.

But I dunno... I also am very scared of "shadowbanning" in the self ship community... Like VERY scared.

With "shadowbanning" I mean, there being some bigger, more popular users on social media who are famous for being the (character's) spouse. The character we both self ship with. But of course, the popular one is going to gain much more attention and interactions because they have been self shipping for longer time, or their art/ s/is are very popular and likeable.

So, if I tried to break the ice through and consider myself the (character's) spouse, and share my self ship stuff on the platforms, I would be DOUBLE IGNORED, and FORGOTTEN above all.

And I cannot have the same mindset with the canon x canon ships, because I know that person DOES exist in real life. And that they the character much longer than me... And have merch... And celebrate anniversaries... And treat the relationship as a real one.

It's literally like a war... where the more 'loved' one wins.

Don't get me wrong. I ALSO want to do that form my own f/os. I WANT to build the a shrine, I WANT to treat my ship serious, I WANT to draw us, and to gather merch, I WANT to love my f/os as much as I feel love for them.

But sometimes, people are not able to fulfill their needs because of the situation/environment they're in.

For example, they could either be financially unstable, the country they live in has no 'merch' of the said media, the family is unsupportive and abusive, or just... Be VERY busy with life in general. Not being able to give attention to even the smallest things, like stuff they love to do in free time, let alone their beloved f/o.

.. I myself am in that situation. My country is poor, I am about to enter university, I am still healing from my past traumas/trying to get better and fight off the problems on my own, even if it is VERY difficult, and no one understands. I should already work and have a job, have MY money, ACT like an adult should, and become independent. But I am not. I was emotionally scarred, which left big impact on my (concerning) social, (terrifying) future, and (nonexistent) work life.

I basically depend off my parents, and know absolutely nothing in general, like- I feel hopeless, dissapointed. Scared above all. Because I think a part of me is still not ready to move on and grow up, and I already did.

So, if I cannot take care of MYSELF, how can I take care of the sacred relationship me and my f/os have, love I feel for them? The attention I oh so, DESPARATELY want to give them, yet I don't even give attention to my life, and try to hide away from everything? How can I even think about them if I cannot think about anything else?

... I dunno. I'm just... I just sometimes think I am underserving of such recognition, and to be called the (character's) lover/friend/family. Because, not do I "ignore" us, but I ignore my life, too.

With ignore, I mean, I TRY to survive every single day as the best I can. Get over it, then repeat again. For quite some time now. Cope with "stress" (when there IS NO actual stress) with unhealthy maladaptive daydreaming methods and isolation. And the stress is just... Life, in general.

Being a depression survivor is hard, because you're supposed to find a purpose for yourself, when you didn't even PICTURE yourself being THIS far. Keep going, while you're actually still somewhat struggling to find the path, and will to continue.

You isolate yourself from the world in your mind, your safe, comfort zone. Where anything good can happen, there's no stress, no duties, adultery, no work. You ghost people, avoid everyone and everything, stay in your home, and LITERALLY survive the day to the best of your abillity. Try to avoid thinking about ANYTHING else but you, your f/os, your perfect little world. You struggle with most simple things like getting up, eating the right ammount, doing things you like, taking care of yourself, but you're supposed to be an ADULT. To already KNOW how to take care of yourself, because FAR more worse things are waiting for you out there.

I love my f/os. But I don't love myself, what I have become. And that is what makes me worried the most. I cannot become what I want if I already act this terrible.

[sugardonutzz]

hey girliee<3

saw ur post abt subliminals and manifestations, would u mind helping me out? I'm a lil lost when it comes to that, ngl. I've done my research on subliminals but i still think it doesn't work for me:(

could you recommend me some safe subliminals and give me some tips?

ofc anon!! i remember when i was new to subliminals and i had no idea where to start🩷

🌸 so first i recommend learning abt the law of attraction (u can look it up too if this is confusing). essentially, the law of attraction (or loa) is whatever u think will happen, will happen. for example: if i assume i have brown hair and affirm and persist in this belief (even tho i physically have blonde hair), then my hair will change to brown

🌸 youtube has some great subliminals that can help u to feel more confident in ur affirmations!! remember that if it isn’t working for u, it may be that this specific creator isn’t helping much, or it could be that ur still in a doubtful mindset! it really helps to get urself in a confident mindset, as if u already have ur desired thing <3 it can be hard when ur not used to it, but be stubborn!! u deserve to have everything u want!! if it’s too intimidating, go for something small first (ex. freckles or a small amount of money). dont focus on the results until they appear, focus on the journey and how grateful u r for it <3

🌸some yt subliminals i listen to: strawberryincense, adoeraa, strawbchan, and thewizardliz! however feel free to branch out and look for ones that suit ur tastes (i recommend looking for ones w a lot of followers, bc to me it feels safer)

🌸if ur affirming without subs, there r tonssss of ways to do it. it’s rly whatever makes u feel confident and happy. there’s robotic affirming (where u write/think/say ur affirmations over and over for a certain amount of time), there’s ’letter to the universe’ (where u write a letter to the universe saying all ur grateful for *say ur grateful for things you want to happen*), or u can write a little paragraph in ur notes app talking in present tense about all the things u want (ex. i looove having pretty hair and sparkly eyes!!). if u wanna do it all just in ur head remember to try affirming in the present tense. imagine ur rly grateful that all ur desires have come true!!

i hope this helps!! i know tons more abt subs/manifesting so lmk if i should make a follow up post🌸🍓

[katatty]

Sims Say the Darnest Things: When you get this, list five of your characters and their best quotes so far. Then pass it on to five other storytelling simblrs.

Aw man, this is a fun one! I've been writing stupid stuff for my sims to say for so long it's hard to think of a top 5, but definitely have some funny moments I'd like to reminice on :)

“Who cares about work? Money isn’t everything, Raye!” “I’m just not sure I’m responsible enough for this. I feel like a kid myself half the time!” “Well, better grow up fast, because I’m keeping the baby! Bleh!!”

This line from Emmie is iconic to me and kind of sums up both the good and bad in her character! She's enthusiastic, chirpy and always ready to jump into stuff but can be kinda selfish/thoughtless with like, poor boundaries lmao. It also always makes me giggle adding "Bleh!!" to the end of her lines idk

Bella: Cassandra! Oh my, are you all right? Cassandra: I’m fine, Mom. Bella: You’re having a mental breakdown on our back porch!

idk this is just funny to me bc Bella is half concerned for Cassandra and half worried that Cassie is bringing down the vibe at her fabulous dinner party lol

Camellia: I keep thinking I’ve forgotten something!  Lori: Cami, I feel like that almost all the time. Nine out of ten times it’s nothing important!

I'm realising going though these most of them aren't even particualrly "great quotes" they're just things I found funny to write, haha. My way of escaping the "5 characters" thing by making them all require context or somehting. idk! RIP to Orion

Lilith: Since when you do you cook, anyway? Ashley: I’m teaching myself. It’s called having a growth mindset, you should try it. Lilith: Hey, I’m all about personal growth. You know I achieved lifetime happiness this week? Ashley: Our date was that good, huh?

Ashley & Lilith's unhealthy-ass relationship banter is always so fun to write, I really miss them! I really like having sims actually mention, like, game mechanics? Lilith saying "I achieved lifetime happiness this week" just tickles me. tbh i also think "it's called having a growth mindset" is really funny, really fits ashley's self-improvement-reddit-guy vibe

ok and my all time favourite scene/quote is this ripp moment idk this was 5 years ago but i still laugh thinking about it it was so unhinged

“So this makes us and the twins, what? Step-siblings? That’s hot.” “You are such a pig, Ripp!” Lilith kicked him under the table. “I’m gonna kill you.” “Chill out, Tank! It’s not like it’s real incest! You and Angela can keep fucking if you really want to.”

like most inappropriate and gross comments of all time????????? lmao. very sad that Ripp has grown as a person I miss writing him as an immature dickhead lol

ANYWAY thank u for sending this, it was really fun & nostalgic and has me really wanting to actually write posts again, maybe I will queue some up :)

tagging @potential-fate, @moocha-muses, @dunne-ias, @antisocialbunnysims & @rurpleplaysmuttingtonac if any of you fancy doing this :)

[urmingirl]

So according to your logic every bad thing bad people do in your country you also do as well? So let me get this straight you are also a thief, murderer, rap1st, you SA children, anti women, etc. is that correct? You left your ff ID on so I can see where you’re from (Not exactly the land of perfection but then again last time I checked there is no such thing as a perfect place. Every place right now has good and evil but guess you don’t want to acknowledge that.). Normally I try not to judge countries and their people based on the bad ones/government but according to you we should. I absolutely don’t agree with what is happening here in SK individuals are utterly disgusting for that type of behavior. We are human and we make mistakes and they shouldn’t be treating others like they should be thrown away like that. And those individuals have now shown they are not worthy of being human because they don’t know how to act it. But now I see you the same because you deemed us all unworthy for the act of others we had no control over and because we also have to follow the law to the extent of what we can do since this is where have to stay. Most of the time international people don’t have to deal with that. A lot of use tried to do stuff as well but no one seems to care. Guess I should be like you judging and comparing all exactly the same with those that are trash. Will definitely listen to the warnings out right now to stay away from your country since all of you (including you according to your logic and that of others) are doing those evil things they’re talking about all over. I expected better from a fellow army because in your statement you also included BTS because they are also us. Regardless if you meant to or not you did and you can’t take that back.

So you're messaging me about my post "South Korea is really a big joke!" . Did you happen to read what I posted????

Everything you say on your message is your own logic, not mine. I don't know how you understand things and how your brain works. You literally created another dimension when you saw my post, huh? Did I say "ALL Koreans are spawn of satan from elderly to newborn". Did I say that to my post??? All of the malicious things are coming from you. Please read your message gain.

I don't care if you have to check my location or if I have to provide you my whole address just to check if I am from the land of perfection. MY OPINION IS MY OPINION. I'm not from a perfect and clean country but at least people in my country will not protect a funeral wreath over human rights. People in my country will not cancel an artist just bc he fell on his scooter, has a gf/bf, dances with female dancers etc. We also don't protect SAers and rap!st. You normalize everything even if you know something is wrong that is the reason why the suic!de rate in your country is too high. I'm tired of hearing "it's our culture", well... damn. You really have to stay away from my country because the kind of mindset that you have is not welcome here in my country.

In my post I said "so good luck and try harder you disgusting evil people." I hope you know that I'm talking about the 2 girls and that one uncle who's guarding their funeral wreaths right??? If I actually have the same mindset as you, I would think that you're one of them 🥴

Lemme guess.. are you a kpoppie? anti? tokki? or just k-army?? hmmm maybe a solo. Yesterday, while international ARMYs are celebrating and doing their purple projects to show their support for yoongi and for the tannies I saw a lot of butthurt tweets about the support and love that ARMYs are showing in front HYBE. Most of the butthurt tweet are from solos and k-solos 🤣🤣 you actually sound just like one of them. Like exactly one of them! Okay you might say again "you're generalizing k-armys that we are yoongi antis blah blah blah" I'm actually following some real OT7 K-ARMYs and they don't act like you. This part is so funny to me "I expected better from a fellow army because in your statement you also included BTS because they are also us." Please don't call me a fellow ARMY if you are hurt by my post. You don't sound like an ARMY at all. Shame on you. I'M HERE FOR BANGTAN AND BANGTAN ONLY and not for your beloved country South Korea.

You might wanna check the comment section there and message them one by one after you check their locations. 😸

I don't care what you think about my country, you can judge my country all you want. It will not change my view that South Korea is still a joke.

[marumarielle]

‼️ anon

Ghttps://www.tumblr.com/marumarielle/739410918618923008/anon-here-hey-maru-do-u-feel-like-loablr-has-a

GIRL U LITERALLY FRAMED ALL MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS SO WELL.

But honestly, so REAL, OMD. I think that the whole "tough love" mean tone should be reserved for those (and literally only those) who come up with silly excuses as to why they didn't manifest and procrastinate bc of literally the stupidest things. And that tone should only be used once in a while as some people may have genuine problems and self-blaming issues alongside these things. Tough love motivation can really go a long way, so I'm not entirely opposed to the idea of it just to how much it's used and to who it's used towards.

For those who have genuine problems and things holding them back from manifesting, we definitely should be kinder to them.

I recall one time a certain loa blogger here (I won't be saying their name, but it's starts with l and ends with 1) went into a certain shifter's post (won't be saying who) about how they were struggling with shifting and hated their CR or smth and when I went to the replies I saw them shouting at them being like "it's only YOUR FAULT, that u didn't shift, STOP IDENTIFYING WITH FAILURE" and I'm like girl..... why the hell are u shouting on this random person who ain't even in LOAblr? Maybe be more positive towards them bc shouting at someone and telling them their failures are no one's fault, but theirs is legit so bad for someone's mental health and self esteem like...

Honestly, I think it's tricky to navigate the law and this community without encountering unnecessary self blame, and so it's important we frame and type our posts in a way that doesn't encourage it and is against it.

Remember, y'all make sure to feed ur subconscious with the things u wanna see in ur physical reality but not push all those negative feelings u have about ur circumstances deep inside, it's incredibly unhealthy and it's always good to express ur feelings. The sort of principal I adopt is spend 80% of the time persisting in the new story and ignoring the 3d and 20% venting and reacting to the old story. So far it's been helpful in maintaining a dominant state and allowing an outlet for my emotions.

Oh my god this also just said everything in my head and what I felt about tough love here in LOAblr!! And I love the 80/20 method you do (I think I remember knowing that this a real method but in a diff context). But, aside from that, I feel like as a member of the loassumption community we do need to start being wise with our words and being careful about. Because, I never know who's reading my posts and what I say can be more triggering than helpful which isn't what I want. It isn't what we want.

This is also why I want to encourage the mindset of "Failures are just opportunities to succeed" because that has helped me SO much. Not just loablr and shiftblr wise. I'm an academic achiever and that's my motto. So, whenever I get a low grade I grieve first and pick myself back up. Which leads to my 2nd point: It's okay to feel down! If anything, feeling your emotions do not take anything from you. They're sensations and suppressing them won't do any good. Let yourself feel safe to feel them <3

[morastfrck]

Hi thx again for that art. Honestly i wanted to share with my True Hero headcanons (I prefer more responsible Delsin, rather than psychopath) - More Responsibility: Will protect every conduit, teach and guide them to control their powers. He became friend of many conduits and thanks to his ideals, he will find many conduits with same mindset (justice and equality for both Humans and Conduits). And thus creating sort of like Justice League to protect the entire world. - From now on, he is public face: whenever he goes, expect lots of cameras and journalists. While he loved this at first, it became annoying as fuck and decided just to go away from them as fast as possible. However his actions, will give people hope and inspire everyone in the entire world. - He will mete with Zeke, who will tell Delsin everything about Cole. And while feeling inspired, he would also struggle more about continuing ideals of Cole and carrying on his legacy. Questioning himself, is he really worthy? - Akomish will became his place of protection and warm. Betty will always make lots of cakes and his favourite dishes, to make him feel better. - No matter his struggling, Delsin will always try to do his best no matter what. From saving cats from trees, to prevent another war crimes to happen or cartels to hurt innocent. He maybe struggles, but he will not let his struggle, to fail so many innocent people. - Delsin once a month will always visit Reggie's grave to talk about anything. Trying to hold himself not to cry. - He will have more powers, but not asking for more and being responsible with this. (If a conduit says no, Delsin will not take it) - He may be a hero, he is still no saint. If there is a conduit or a criminal mastermind who cannot change and still a threat to innocent, he will put him down for good. - Delsin one day will face conduits of nightmares and will face his biggest fear: REggie. However he understands it's not real and overcomes it. - Delsin will become everyone's big bro and a mentor sort of like Charles Xavier. Thanks to Eugene's genius they would profit and have lots of money to start investing on good stuff and make a big base for conduits to live and train. - Delsin will have no free time (unfortunately) - he will always check the monitors for any crimes, and while he has his friends, he still would feel lots of pressure on his shoulders. - Delsin one day will face a conduit who was used and brainwashed by her own father, who wanted to use her for himself. Once Delsin hears this story, he will be mad and kill that person in blind rage. - Eugene's new invention allowed to train in virtual reality, to have faster and better access to new powers. Fetch will be sort of like flash thanks to her light speed abilities. While Delsin will always be everywhere at the same time to protect everyone. And also here is mine headcanon quote for Delsin hero. "The world is not a great place. It's fulled of bad and sick people. And yet here i am, doing my best no matter what. And while i'm still breathing the ideals of justice and hope, I will never die. I will struggle, but never give up the fight. And i will not stop my fight, until the world would turn into a better place than it ever was. Never." What do you think?

woah hell that is a big ass concept you have here, you should totally write a post canon story with it or something (bc fr its really put together, even with further future concepts and everything)

honestly? this does seem like a plausible option for that kind of delsin. I mean, society would have to face some major changes after augustine’s fall, both in terms of conduit relating laws and people’s mindsets, and having someone as known as delsin take everything in his own hands would def help. So imo the plot idea is pretty solid.

I personally would focus more on delsin’s personal growth. Storywise he is already powerful enough that he was able to take down augustine - which is hella impressive, she had been practicing concrete for 7 years. So i dont really see any point in focusing on him expanding his powers but rather deciding how to use them. You called bad karma a psychopath, but i feel like they are far more similar to each other, Its not like they are two different characters. the only thing separating hero from infamous is like this one metaphorical wrong choice.

If he makes this bad decision, he is basically forced to make more - he killed one guy, so what difference would it make if he killed a few more, and so on. He would also probably be way more focused on revenge - for himself on society (that was rejecting him throughout his life, for graffity and similar stuff) and failed him again after he turned out to be a conduit, for reggie, for akomish (and later even revenge on akomish for also rejecting him). Its like a vicious circle of him being rejected, getting his revenge for it, and getting rejected furthermore.

For the hero on the other hand, i see him as more of a trapped in the expectations type of character. He saved a few people, and now they point their phone cameras at him and scream his name, and he just cant let them down. At first it really busts his ego - he literally talked about becoming a hero before, so makes sense that he is flattered. But the thing is, on the inside he is still the same person who could have gone the infamous path. After all, bad karma points are only given for executing an enemy, not just for them dying. I believe that shows the difference really well, as its not about murder, its about cruelty.

Delsin doesnt have the truly neutral choice, bc he will either be percieved as a villain or a hero by the crowd, so naturally their perception will always be exaggerated. They either see him as a psychopath or a saint, no inbetween.

But in reality, he is still a sly fucker who draws mocking graffitis on the walls and flirts with his enemies, no matter what choice he made.

(tho i do feel like reggie’s death could make big difference for his alignment. either sending him down the revange path or making delsin want to not let his brother down and going all hero)

so basically, i feel like really becoming a hero, and not just a rebel with good reputation would be pretty challenging for him. It would be interesting to see the way he would struggle to actually make rational and good choices at times, or how he would tackle the problems actual heroes face (or like those “who should i save” dillemas from superhero comics)

also this is why i prefer the og delsin, as i see him as the one who stays more loyal to his original ideology, and while accepting his feelings he doesn’t go too far with revenge stuff or attempts to become the hero everyone needs. He is the “its not possible to please everyone” and he is fine that way

But generally i think you have a really cool concept here. It works great, tho we def dont see some things the same way lmao

and good luck in turning it into somethin more? (bc i really hope you do its worth it!!!!)

oh but also think about mentor delsin in his late thirties-fourties😩😏

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

I WOULDN’T DREAM OF IT.

Chapter 2 - Roll The Dice

Black!Carol Danvers x Maria Rambeau

Ft. Monica Rambeau

CW: slight mentions of- homophobic slurs(not written out), deciding not to report harassment in the military, one mention of a security/police officer, being drunk/partying, minor cuts/scrapes/bruises, parenting, loss of a parent, childhood trauma, regaining lost memories. also, a big part of this chapter is set in a flashback. nothing too crazy for any of this, but I just want everyone to know that these things are mentioned!

A/N: hey y'all! so, I wrote this like a book. it's long per usual, and this one's a bit angsty but nothing too serious. also sooooo sorry this is so late lmao, life comes at you hard and fast sometimes but we getting it together every day! I'll try to be quicker w/ updates🫡. much love, muahhh. thank you for reading! x ps. this isn't proof read bc I stayed up til 6:30 in the morning to finish writing it LMFAOO.💀 I'll come back at some point and proof read it, but sorry for any typos/grammar/syntax oddities as always.

Word Count: 19,078 (jump scare🫣)

Link to AO3!

title header & mood art by me⋆˙⟡♡ pls don't use/post elsewhere without asking! (lmk if y'all like it though! i'm thinking about doing stuff like this for all/most of my fics maybe)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ Taglist⋆｡ﾟ ☾ﾟ ｡⋆｡︎☁ﾟ｡⋆:

@mybonafidefeelings @maysflourish @nanajen8

also go read @mybonafidefeelings's new danbeau/carolxmaria series RIGHT NEOWWWW if you haven't already🥰

and while you're at it, go check out all the fics everyone in the taglist have written! they never disappoint!

here we gooooo, I hope you enjoy part two.💗

Once Monica finished her breakfast, she helped Carol clean up while she told her stories about her friends at school, all the inventions she'd come up with, and any other story her mind mustered up. She wanted to fill in as many blanks as possible for her other mother. Carol listened intently, taking in every moment of her daughter. She wanted to remember everything, even the things that might not seem important to other parents in different circumstances. She wanted to be able to reference these stories, prove that she remembered, that she cared enough to listen. Partly because her own parents never showed an interest, instead always finding the time to show their genuine dislike for her for whatever many reasons they had, or just disregarding her altogether. But also because Monica had always been so welcoming, so ready to receive her back like nothing had happened - or maybe like everything did happen and she still chose to hold on tight to her mother, choosing not to let the time separate them. So Carol held on tight too, wanting to prove she was reliable to the girl. She appreciated how open Monica was to her returning, but she also knew she had been gone for a long time. Longer than she should have been, she often thought. She knew that Monica was young, and might eventually change her mindset on the matter. She had every right to. It would make sense to feel some kind of way, and that scared Carol to her core. So she wanted to at least try and show up in the best way she could. Be present, be a mother - not just someone who literally drops in every now and then. She wanted to give the girl something she could hold onto, something she could trust.

Carol was always so in awe of both of the Rambeaus. Even though Maria always said that she and Monica were so much alike, she loved how much she was just like her mother too. Stubborn, but sure of herself. Interested in everything, always ready to learn and push forward - but soft, in her own way. Gentle, patient and kind. They both would go out of their way, even if it didn’t always seem like they were. She looked like her, too. Her brown eyes, her hair, the way she walked. She was just like Maria in the best ways (not that there was a bad way to be like Maria Rambeau), and also very much just herself. Just Monica, and she was the most amazing child the world had ever managed to produce. Carol was sure of it. 

When they had finished in the kitchen, Carol decided to take a shower too. The hot water should be filled up again, and she was starting to feel the leftover sweat from last night mixing with the approaching heat from the day. Monica sat on the couch and turned on some cartoons, feeling fulfilled from breakfast which made Carol feel proud of herself for a lot of reasons. Cooking was something she always struggled with because she never had anybody to teach her. Maria thinks she might just naturally be a clutz in the kitchen too, but regardless, she worked with her for years as they grew up trying to teach her how to cook, giving her the gentle instruction and patience she never had. Usually to no avail, but it was a fond memory for both of them. Carol smiled, thinking that if her success in making pancakes this morning was any indication of the kind of day she would have with her daughter, she was sure it would be a good one. She wandered back upstairs, running her hands along the walls that still had blue and purple marker stains on them in some spots. As she walked through the hallway towards her shared room, she passed Monica’s room and couldn't help but smile. The girl’s room was what anybody would expect if they’d met her. A little messy, super colorful. She had her personality everywhere. A model of the solar system she had made when she was a little younger for a school project hung from the ceiling over her bed. A stuffed animal Carol had won for her at a carnival when she was a toddler, Maria had one to match that she secretly kept hidden in the drawer next to her bed still. She had drawings on blue construction paper all over her walls, mostly of her inventions (she called them her blueprints). The one picture that was on regular white paper had the word “Family” written on it. A crayon picture of Maria and Carol, with Monica in the middle. Carol’s heart skipped a beat seeing it. She was so lucky, she thought again. She passed the door and made her way to the end of the hall with a happy stride. The day had just begun and she was already doing better than she expected. 

She stepped into the room and paused, her smile growing inward in an almost shy way. She was greeted with the scent and feel of Maria. She inhaled deeply, feeling a level of comfort roll through her body and pang in her chest. Mmm. Carol whispered to herself, almost embarrassed. But she couldn’t help it. She was everywhere. As much as they had kept Carol present in their lives, making sure she was alive and never erased from her fingerprint on the home, it had still been years since Carol had been gone so it made perfect, almost comforting sense to her that they had made it their own. They had to make it comfortable, they had to fill in the empty space. Just like Monica’s room, Maria’s was a perfect snapshot of her personality. It was well kept, everything had a place to be. If it ever did get messy, Carol was sure it didn’t last long. She looked over the room, noting the books next to the bed where Maria slept, all of them half read with bookmarks Monica had made her in them. She looked at the tray of jewelry sitting on the dresser, full of small dainty necklaces and a few pairs of stud earrings with different shapes, and a few pairs of hoops Maria would only wear if she was going out. She looked at the closet, one side open from this morning. All the clothes are organized by color, with a few boxes sitting on the top shelf. Even the bed they had slept in, it was already made perfectly to military standards with the edges tucked in perfectly - except for the top where Maria had extra pillows, all with light purple pillow cases contrasting the perfect white ones underneath.

She looked at the picture frames sitting on Maria’s perfectly organized desk as she walked over to it. On the left side was a picture of her and Monica at a park that had to be fairly recent, a picture of Maria standing outside the SWORD office smiling huge next to an older man in uniform, and a picture of Maria with her brother which must’ve been years old because Maria looked like she was in middle school maybe, making Carol reminisce about the girl she used to know. On the right side of the desk sat two pictures that didn’t face in all the way like the other two, as if they were put there intentionally but also intentionally not looked at as much. One, in a light purple frame, was Maria’s mother. Carol had never met the woman but had seen her face many times growing up in Maria’s father’s house. It was the same then, almost like the woman must have put the pictures of herself up and they didn’t have the heart to take them down, but they tried their best not to look. Next to that sat a framed picture of Carol and Maria smiling at the local bar they used to go to, their uniforms half undone and Carol’s hair out of regs with her aviators pushed back and a red bandana around her head. She remembers the bar more now, Pancho’s. She had been there with Fury and it jogged a lot of things for her, but she so badly wants to remember that day specifically. She runs her fingers close to it, but doesn’t dare to touch. She tries to remember the song they would sing together, all the lyrics. She can’t but she remembers how it felt to jump around for hours and then walk home, too drunk most times, bumping into each other and letting touches and looks linger a little too long, and then having to get up early the next day. She remembers that they would take turns walking each other to their barracks, sometimes daring to sleep in each other's rooms when they thought they might not get caught, always leaving one of them to sneak out in the morning. Carol laughs, thinking about how Maria was right last night, and how she was always better at leaving quietly than Carol.

When her eyes refocus on the photo, she can’t help but wonder how many times Maria had flipped the frame over, hiding the memory from herself. She wonders, just for a moment, if she would’ve been able to live through the grief she put her through. She would never know just how bad it was for Maria, she would never be able to see from her eyes what the woman went through or how she pulled herself out of bed every day and raised a child by herself, kept working, started SWORD. She wondered if Maria ever went back to that bar, or if she ever listened to the song again. She would never know how the woman truly felt in those years or what she did to keep herself busy, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel right asking. She wanted to think about the past few months, after everything. She wanted to think about how it must be even worse, in a way, knowing that Carol was out there saving other people while Monica grew up and Maria trudged on with no choice. She wanted to think about it but couldn’t, knowing what would happen if she let her mind attach to the thoughts and feelings. She gazed at the photo again and turned away, deciding that maybe she didn’t need to remember everything right now. 

She walked over to the box they had pulled out last night for her and started going through some clothes, looking for something to change into. She realized that while she was in space, her suit did all the work for her - she never had to worry about pulling an outfit together. It did the heating, drying, cooling, protecting her from any number of threats - all while containing her powers in a comfortable way for her. So as she sorted through her belongings, she was now also coming to the realization that it also had built in underwear. She only had two pairs of regular underwear to her name and she was wearing one of them. She frantically sifted through the big box to no avail. She questioned why she would only have two pairs of underwear, rather than all of her undergarments or none of them at all. She guessed that the Air Force had something to do with it, remembering that they had packed everything up for Maria to come pick up instead of letting her do it. She cursed them under her breath, mad that once again Maria had something taken from her, deciding that she had no option but to wear the pair of boxer briefs she had found and figure it out later. She grabbed the boxers, an old band tee shirt and a pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom. 

When she walks in the bathroom, she can hear Monica’s cartoons from the living room. 

“I’m gonna bathe myself, Lt. Trouble! Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

 She yells down. She waited to hear Monica’s response and when she didn’t she paused completely, silencing herself and the air around her, cartoons still playing. She could feel her heartbeat pick up its pace.

“Mon? Did you hear me?” 

She shouts again, a bit louder, trying not to let on to her anxiety.

“Okay Mom!”

 Monica yells back, mind focused on her shows. Carol exhaled deeply, relief flowing through her body. She chuckled at mom, gratitude buzzing through her whole body. She was still a mom to Monica and that meant more to her than she could ever explain. She added “go to therapy” on her mental to do list and started stripping.

Once all the layers were off, she chucked her socks in the pile she had made and stepped into the deep tub, pulling a purple shower cap over her hair and bending down to turn on the shower. She pulled the stop up before balancing out the water and heard the water make its way up the long pipe to the shower head slowly as she pulled the curtain closed around her. She immediately screeched, feeling freezing water run over her body. She had forgotten that Maria took cold showers in the morning to wake her up. She scrambled, trying to avoid as much of the frigid water as possible while she flipped up the hot water handle with her toes, jumping up and down, somehow not slipping. As the water began to warm and steam up, she found herself laughing. Out loud. She couldn’t stop. Captain Marvel was giggling like a child (Once again proving Maria right). She slid down and sat on her butt, pulling her knees into her chest and let the water run over her back. She eased into the warm feeling, still feeling laughter bubble up inside of her. She closed her eyes and remembered the last time she felt the shock of cold water all over her.

It was late, or maybe early. Carol felt herself getting tired, but she wanted to keep dancing. She wanted to keep singing. She wanted to keep seeing Maria, feeling her brush up against her while they danced and twirled in sloppy, drunken harmony, singing poorly to whatever song was playing. She didn’t want to go to work tomorrow just to test planes she would never get to fly outside of base. She didn’t want to sleep in her own bed, unless Maria was in it. She just wanted to keep living in this moment for as long as she could. She looked over at her equally drunk copart, dancing freely with her eyes closed. Maria rarely let loose like this, but when she did it was beautiful. She commanded the room, everyone tuning into her wavelength, feeling her all around them. She made everything beautiful, and when she was carefree, it was like no one on earth had a care in the world either. 

Maria opened her eyes to see Carol looking at her and she smiled that toothy grin she had, making the heat from Carol’s chest rise to her face. She smiled back, pushing herself closer to the woman through the people dancing around them. The dark liquor they had both been drinking was coursing through them and burning off with every move, sending sparks through both of their bodies while they watched each other bop to the music. Carol made her way over and laughed, making some comment about how only they could make old white men’s music sound this good. Maria giggled in agreeance, grabbing Carol’s hand and twirling her around. She was tired too, but she was happy to have a break. They had both been working their asses off and both felt the same frustration with the position they were seemingly stuck in. They were making their way up in rank, one then the other, every time. But two facts always remained. They were both Black Women. So the Air Force didn’t give them much reign, despite the fact that they were statistically and literally the two best pilots the Air Force had ever seen and a lot of people knew it. Despite all their talent and gusto, they did their diligence day in and day out. So, when they got the chance to be free from the monotony, they took it, hand in hand, happily. 

As Carol spun back into the woman’s arms with a heaving laugh, they both smiled at each other widely. Maria couldn’t look away, she felt stuck as her eyes moved down from her friend’s eyes to her lips. Carol surprised her by grabbing her other arm and spinning her just how she had done, and pulling her in with a dramatic dip. Everyone around them cheered, drunk too. They laughed with their bellies, feeling the song in their chests. Carol pulled Maria up slow, just as the exciting song ended. The next song started and it was slower, and most people around them coupled up, only some seeming annoyed as they made their way off the dance floor and back to the bar and stools. The two women looked around them, then at each other. They both shrugged with a small laugh, and Carol pulled Maria in to dance. She made some joke about being proper while she found her hands at Maria’s lower back, making the woman laugh as she made herself comfortable around Carol’s neck and shoulders. They laid their chins on eachother and swayed, letting the joke of it all dissipate into the air. It was moments like this that they relished in, secretly. Every now and then, they’d allow themselves a second to breathe each other in. Usually when they were drunk and their inhibitions were low. For both of them, it felt like everything melted away. Just like when they were younger and neither had been asked to the school dance, so they took each other. They shared one slow dance that night, making the excuse that it was tradition and neither should miss out on their first slow dance. They had wanted to dance together at prom, but they had both regrettably had dates for once. Maria had been asked by a boy from her science class, he played on the basketball team and told her she was pretty AND smart (wow, how romantic, Carol thought when she heard the story).

Carol hadn’t been asked but when she found out Maria said yes after being pressured by her father and not hearing Carol make a strong argument against it, Carol forced some kid from one of her classes to come with her. All four had danced that night, split into the ‘correct’ gendered pairs. Carol couldn’t keep her eyes off her bestfriend, and the feeling was mutual. During the final slow dance, they were all on the floor swaying in and out of rhythm with the song playing. Carol and Maria locked eyes and didn’t unlock them until the song was over. They had danced again during their first military ball, quietly in the back behind a pillar where no one could see them. It was unspoken but well understood. They didn’t talk about it after, they just went about their business. They always did. And they would again after tonight, carrying on like time didn’t stop when they touched like this. As the music played, Carol’s hand rubbed Maria’s back absent mindedly, while Maria rubbed small circles against Carol’s neck as they swayed, both in and out of daydreaming, both drunk and leaning a little too heavily on eachother. They both fought the urge to look up at each other, so they let their heavy heads rest on each other as they danced, feet in perfect timing with eachothers. This is what friends do, right? They were so comfortable with each other, it wasn’t weird to slow dance. Right? They almost stopped moving entirely, leaving just a small rocking between them as the music played through them, syncing their breaths. You feel so good, they both thought at the same time, almost forgetting that their freedom in this moment was due to the cognac surging through them.

When time started again and the song stopped, an upbeat one replacing it, they both lingered for a moment longer trying to hold onto the comfort they felt, and trying to collect their drunk selves. Over the sound of the music, the bartender announced last call and they looked at each other with a mischievous smirk. 

“Last one to the bar pays for the shots!” They said in unison, falling gracefully back into their routine. They ran over, both making it there at the same time, so as always they paid for each other’s shots and continued jamming to the music and letting the ambiance of the bar carry them through the rest of the night. Everyone knew everyone, so they felt safe, which was nice. As they finished their last two shots each, they both felt the drunkenness take its strong hold on them and they decided this would be their last song. They grabbed the karaoke mics that no one else wanted and belted at the top of their lungs, horribly but everyone loved it. They jumped up and down, bursting at the seams with laughter and lyrics, dancing with whoever danced with them. Once the song ended, they grabbed each other’s hands and ran for the coat rack, bounding forward despite their lack of balance. 

Pulling on their jackets, they stepped outside into the cooler air and took it in. Carol checked her watch and was astonished to see the time, despite the fact they everyone knew last call at Pancho’s meant it was 2am and the bar would be closing at 2:30. She looked over at Maria who was staring up at the sky.

“What’re you look-”

“Shh! Make a wish! Right now before you miss it!” 

Maria rushed Carol, keeping her eyes closed and her hands clasped together like she was praying, maybe even begging. Carol smiled, knowing the shooting star that must’ve passed was already gone, but she chose to believe the energy would linger for Maria and her. She closed her eyes and spent no time trying to figure out what to wish for. She knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. They both did. Carol kept her eyes closed after she was done, letting her body relax and fully feeling the disorientation of her drunkenness. She felt woozy, almost nauseous. Maria stared at her while her eyes were shut, allowing her body to relax at the sight. She felt her body move for her, without permission. She grabbed Carol’s hand, shocking the woman’s eyes open and started running without any explanation. 

“What are you doing Rambeau? Where are we going?” 

Carol asked, confused, dizzy and feeling a familiar spike of excitement rise in her. Maria was even more daring and much less prudent when she was intoxicated. She was taking her on an adventure and she was ready to go. She would follow the woman anywhere, drunk or not.

“You’ll see. Don’t you trust me, Danvers?” 

Maria called behind her, laughing and out of breath the whole time but never stopping. Carol didn’t need to answer, they both knew the answer. They kept up laughing, thankful for all the PT they’d been forced to do by the United States military. They ran down quiet streets for a few minutes, until they made it to a dirt path with a bunch of trees, leading them off the main road. Maria looked back at Carol with an excited and sly smile. Carol pulled her hand back and made her face her. 

“You’re not trying to serial killer me, right? Where are you taking me?” 

She laughed, but meant the question.

“C’monnn.” Maria tugged, wanting to live in the moment while she could. 

“Don’t you trust me?” 

She asked again, looking in Carol’s eyes with a glint, but soft. Penetrating, Carol thought to herself. She knew she couldn’t say no, she never could. So, she smiled and signaled for Maria to keep taking her wherever she was.

“Lead the way.”

This made Maria smile excitedly, adding an extra skip in her step. They weren’t running this time but they were walking fast, Maria jumping around Carol who felt like she was in a movie or a trance, eyes never leaving Maria’s dancing body as they made their way down the dark path, leaving her feet to trust whatever path Maria made for her. Maria saw a clearing in the trees ahead of them and she started running again, creating too much space for Carol’s comfort. She snapped out of her trance and ran after the faster woman, feeling anxiety and frustration rise in her for a moment. 

“What the hell, Rambeau? It’s dark out here! You can’t just run o-” Carol started while she wiped the sweat and dust off her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Maria standing at the edge of a lake surrounded by thick brown sand and trees. Maria waved her over and the frustration fled Carol’s body faster than it arrived. She jogged up to Maria who was already undressing, making Carol choke when she saw glimpses of Maria’s dark skin that she didn’t usually see. I mean, sure, they’d seen eachother in bathing suits and naked before, when they were kids, but it had been a while. A long while. Carol had to force her mouth shut before Maria could see it hanging open.

“Cmon, hurry up! We gotta jump in before my better judgement takes over!” 

Maria rushed as she pulled off her socks and yanked her pants the rest of the way down, pulling them over her ankles. Carol was still frozen watching her.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared Danvers? Cmon! It’ll help with the drunkenness and it’ll be a story to tell our kids!” 

Maria exclaimed, pulling her shirt over her head. All the was left was her bra and perfect light purple underwear. Carol snapped out of it and laughed.

“HA! What the hell are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re about to-”

“Skinny dip? Yes the hell I am. And so are you. Hurry up!”

Maria finished her sentence as she grabbed her hand, pulling her over and pulling the bandana off her head and tossing it with her own clothes she had made a pile of. She started pulling at Carols shirt sleeves until Carol brushed her away, laughing but really just unable to let Maria help undress her. She was suddenly feeling very shy but as always, Maria was going to get what she wanted from Carol because that’s what Carol wanted. Maria looked at her with that So, are you gonna do it or not? look that Carol was usually giving her and waited for Carol’s face to break into a smile she couldn’t help.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this with you. Don’t cry to me when you regret it tomorrow and have to blow your hair out in the morning!” 

Carol said as she pulled her shirt over her head and exposed her own body, one that Maria wasn’t sure how to fully take in either as she fought back a smile at Carol’s comment. She thought about the last time she’d seen Carol completely naked, or at least as naked as she almost was standing there. They used to get dressed in front of each other all the time and they’d been in matching bathing suits a bunch of times growing up but it had been a while, since they weren’t rooming together in the barracks. She forced her stare away while Carol undid her pants and slid out of them, leaving only her boy shorts, a bra and socks. She kicked her socks off to match as Maria finished pulling the rest of her underwear off, and by the time they both turned around, they were stark naked in the middle of nowhere, right in front of each other.

The silence sat for a moment before they both laughed, the tension easing away like it always did. Maria grabbed Carol’s hand and ran for the water, looking back only to ask You ready? as her feet made their way into the moist sand, inching towards the cold water. Carol shot back As I’ll ever be before making her way in too. They both plunged forward, swimming out a bit but not too far. They both shot under the water and looked at eachother, grabbing hands again before popping back up. The water rolled off of them as they broke through the surface, blinking it from their eyes and feeling their hair. They laughed loudly, finding their bearings in the freezing water.

“Holy shit!” Carol swore, bobbing a bit as she figured out how to float again. Still laughing.

“More like Holy FUUUCK!” Maria shouted out with a laugh in her voice, lifting it into the trees around them. She couldn’t stop laughing, and she couldn’t stop shivering. Carol looked at her as she held her free hand that she was using to balance herself with as she floated out to Maria who happily took it in hopes it would help stabilize her as well.

“You’re a god damn maverick, Rambeau!” Carol laughed as she spun Maria around, swimming in circles trying to keep her blood pumping to warm them both up. Maria swam gracefully, still holding onto Carol’s hand. She was laughing but she was also quieter now. Carol questioned if it was the cold or if it was whatever made her jump into a freezing lake anyway. She pulled her back in and held her hand tight as she pulled her onto her back, pressing her front to her back and taking deep breaths trying to stay warm while still enjoying the fluidity of movement the water provided. They both felt like they were flying, finally.

“What’s going on in your head?” Carol asked as she swam in different directions for a little bit, back and forth as Maria clung to her back, clearly the drunker of the two now. The shock of the water had helped to sober them both up but Carol always had a higher tolerance to alcohol as it was. She was still drunk but not as drunk as her bestfriend, whos head was resting on top of Carol’s wet curls. She knew the humidity and however she planned to get sleep that night wouldn’t help with her process in the morning.

“I just want to fly. I just wanna feel free, you know?” Maria started, not exactly slurring her words but they weren’t as uniform with her natural cadence as they usually were. Carol nodded slightly with a Mhm to assure Maria that she was listening.

“I just… I just wish we could do whatever we wanted to do. I’m so tired of living by the same rules every day. I wish I could just fly into space and stay there, sometimes, you know?” Carol smiled at the thought of Maria being able to fly how she was meant to. High up, above the clouds. Away from everyone and everything that constantly tried to tie her feet to the ground. She did know, she felt the same way about herself.

“You’d leave me here on earth to deal with these bastards?” Carol asked, joking but also not. Maria half laughed, half hiccuped at the thought.

“Wherever I am, you are too. That’s how it’s always going to be, Danver’s. I fly, you fly. You fly, I fly. That’s never gonna change.” Maria said, meaning it. She was always more emotionally open when she was drunk and Carol almost felt bad listening to her, knowing she wouldn’t normally open up like this - especially naked, freezing, clinging to her best friends back with all her might and drunk in a lake they had no business being in. But she couldn’t help but revel in what the woman was saying. She felt the same.

“I know. I know. Come on, lets go home.” Maria wanted to put up a fight but she was shivering and suddenly very sleepy, so she let Carol swim them to shore. When they got out the water, the warm air offered some support in their drunken attempts to pull on their clothing over wet and suddenly sand covered bodies. They weren’t sure if they were putting on the right things but they knew it was covering their important parts and that’s what matters. 

“Can we stay at look at the stars for a little bit?” Maria asked, even though she was the one in charge, whether she knew it or not. Carol knew it. She nodded, knowing it wasn’t a good idea but one she couldn’t deny the soft woman in front of her. She spread their jackets out on the beach for them to lay down and they both did just that, scotting their bodies close to each other instinctively. They peered up at the stars above them, seeing them clearly in the huge circle the trees made. It was perfect, they both thought. Some moments went by before Carol asked a question.

“What did you wish for earlier?”

“Shh. I can’t tell or it won't come true. It was something I’ve always wanted, so it has to come true.” She explained, sleep and bourbon clouding her voice.

“Mine too.” Carol whispered, her own eyes growing heavy. They held hands and both thought that the other woman must’ve wished for them to finally be able to do their jobs the right way, to be able to fly for real. Little did they both know they were wishing for the same thing. Each other.

They laid there, staring at the stars until they weren’t. Sleep came easy for them that night, as odd as it was. It got odder when they woke up, facing each other with only a nose length between their faces, feeling the warm sting of the sun in their eyes. They looked at eachother and started laughing until they heard the familiar sound of security keys dangling and a radio in the nearing distance. They knew it had to be the wannabe cops that patrolled the area and they knew it was their time to get the hell out of there. They ran back down the same path and back onto the main road until they made it to Pancho’s. They slowed to a casual pace after that, trying not to draw attention to themselves even though they had sand all over and their hair was nowhere near what it looked like the previous night. They walked, quietly, but happily together back to the barracks and passed out in Maria’s room. She wanted the comfort of her own space to ease through her impending hangover, but she needed the comfort of Carol’s arms too. Carol put up no fight, trying not to be too obvious that she wanted to be there too. Though she’d never tell, Maria positioned herself perfectly to be held and went right to sleep.

Carol stayed up until she fell asleep like she always did, making sure she was on her side in case she threw up or needed water. She watched as Maria slept, looking like she was floating again. She was so beautiful and Carol was so tired. She laid down and held the woman, her arms perfectly fitting into the space that was left, like it was made for her. They slept most of the day away and when Carol woke up, she set medicine next to Maria’s bed and snuck out, quieter than normal. She thought about what Maria had said when she was in the water as she walked back to her room to take care of her own hangover and messed up fro’. She promised herself that day that no matter where she flew, she would make sure Maria would be there too. Behind that promise, she knew that she would follow Maria to the end of the earth, even the end of the universe without a second thought. She tried to shake some self respect back into her own dreams, smiling despite herself and went to sleep. She dreamed of Maria, because Maria was her dream.

Carol’s day dreaming was interrupted by a cold surge through the shower head again, and the sound of the downstairs sink running before being cut off. Her super hearing alerted her to the sound of Monica filling a cup and going to sit back down. She buzzed under the cold water before it eased back into the warmth she had set for herself. She felt more fond of the cold now. She stood back up and washed her body, letting the water run over her face. The soap smelled like both Monica and Maria and she felt comfort knowing she would smell like them now, too. She finished up and got out, drying herself with her powers instead of making more laundry for herself with the towels she had been looking at the night before. She grabbed her clothes and located her underwear and bra from the pile. 

When she grabbed the pair of boxers, she looked at the inside hem and saw “DANVERS” written in smudged black sharpie on the white tag. She laughed with an edge of old frustration, remembering how she had to do that because people kept stealing her underwear in the laundry room as a prank because her and Maria had ranked up before a few of the other men in their unit. Maria’s clothes never got stolen, but they didn’t refrain from trying to get to her in other ways. None of which she ever humored, but Carol knew it got to her a few times. Some of the guys had called them ‘lesbos’ a few times, and eventually it evolved into the d slur. Both pilots always had different comebacks that consistently left the immature weasels with little to say back. Carol knew both of those words well having heard them most of her life, and she had taught herself not to internalize it.

Maria, on the other hand, let the first one roll off her for the most part - but the second one sometimes picked at scabs she had long covered up. Scabs she wasn’t ready to look at yet. They both decided not to report the harassment because it would probably end up worse if they did, and eventually it died down. They both continued to rise in ranks slowly but surely, and finally Mar-Vell came and they felt some reprieve from the monotony they were used to. Carol shivered at the thought of what came after that, though. 

She slid the rest of her clothes on and walked back into the bedroom. She put her dirty clothes in the laundry basket next to the closet for her to do later, and walked back over to the box of her things. She’d seen a bunch of stuff Monica had shown her the first time she came home, but she wanted to know what was in the other boxes Maria had kept. She went through the bottom of the box that had her clothes in it not finding anything she hadn’t already seen, and then pulled open the other one they had left out. She presumed this is one Maria hadn’t shown Monica as it had light dust on it when she opened it.

She sifted through, halfway hoping to find another pair of underwear, but instead she found a bunch of papers and trinkets. Some necklaces and a silver chain bracelet, wristbands from carnivals and bars they had been to together, a pair of dice from a board game they had stolen from a store one time when they were younger and had kept as they grew up. She ran her hands over everything, trying to take in as much of her former self as she could like she always did when she had the chance. She fumbled at the bottom of the box and pulled out a bunch of papers, some folded, some grocery lists with toiletries and snacks crossed off here and there, some half done crossword puzzles that Carol was never good at, and a few opened envelopes. She sat the rest down and looked over each envelope with care. 

Some had cards in them, birthday and christmas cards, one from valentines day. All of them had silly characters or jokes on the front. They had made a good habit of buying each other cheesy cards for every holiday they could think of, Carol strained to remember as she read through them. She rubbed her finger over Maria’s perfect signature, wondering if she kept the ones Carol had gotten her, too. She filed through the papers curiously, flipping through piece after piece of paper that held a small snapshot of moments in her life. Mundane, ordinary moments. She cherished them, and she was grateful to both Maria for keeping them and herself for never being organized and keeping all this stuff that most people would’ve eventually thrown away or allowed themselves to misplace over time. Her eyes fixed on a thicker envelope. She grabbed it, reading the red script labeled across the front.

To: Danvers

From: Rambeau ♡ 

Carol smiled at the little heart Maria had drawn next to her last name. She opened the letter, finding another heart on the back of the envelope where it was once sealed. Carol reads over the letter, feeling emotion and memory rise up in her chest, spreading through her whole body. The letter is dated, of course because Maria is ever punctual. It was from when they had been stationed at two separate bases for the first few months. It was agony for both of them, being in two separate states. Carol had sent Maria a letter when she first arrived, thinking she would be the first one to write. She was shocked, however, to find a letter waiting for her when she arrived at the post office on base. She had opened it the second she got back to her barracks room. It was an envelope inside an envelope, the outer one having had their full names and ranks and official military postage, the second one having the cute little hearts Maria drew perfectly when she wrote. Again, she was softer than most people expected her to be.

The letter expressed pretty much exactly what Carol had in hers, which came to no surprise to either of them when they both read what the other had sent. They were always on the same wavelength. They both had so much more they needed to say, but they were so grateful to hold something physical that the other had taken time to write for the other.  Maria asked how Carol was doing, explained what had been going on with her, and complained about the men on base per usual. Just as if they were together in person. 

As Carol read through it, she laughed, probably how she had the first time, at a lot of the letter. Towards the end though, she felt a tight ball of heat sitting in her chest restricting her breathing. She almost couldn’t read through what was left of the letter. Was she embarrassed? 

“Anyways, I hope you’re still kicking ass. I KNOW you are, that always came easy to you. 

I hope we can call soon, hopefully without being interrupted by the other idiots needing to use the phone every single time you do. I can’t believe there's only four on your base and only two that actually work (what happened to ‘The Air Force’s finest?’). You’d think with all the money the military has.. You know. I know it’s hard for both of us to find the time right now but I just really miss you, Carol. I miss shitty karaoke a lot, I can’t do it with these clowns here without you. Friday nights just aren’t the same haha. I miss renting the same movies every weekend and staying up all night eating too much. I even watched Fame the other day without you. I still hate it but it was nice, I just wish you were here to act out all the scenes. And I’ll deny it if you ever tell anybody, but I even miss your shitty cooking (burn this after reading), and not just because it makes it easier for me to be the better cook, but just because it’s you. I never used to hate writing letters but I do now, because it reminds me how far they have to travel to get to you. I hate that we’re not together, we’ve always been together. And as much as I act like I know what I’m doing, sometimes I feel lost without you here. And I know we’ve been pretending everything is the same but it isn’t, at least not for me. I wish we had more time to talk before you left. I wish we had more time in general. Damn the Air Force. Regardless, I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m so proud of you. I always am.

It’ll all be better soon. I believe that, just like you always do. We’ll be up in the air in no time. I’ll meet you up there. I’ll be the one whipping by you. Catch up if you can.

Take good care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it for you. 

You’re the best damn pilot in the Air Force (second only to me, of course), and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise! Call me when you get the chance. And hurry up and write back!

Always, 

Rambeau.

Ps. Things wont always be this way. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget that round of shots you owe me, either, goofball.”

Carol felt the heat of a blush running to her cheeks. She was thankful for her dark complexion hiding it, although no one was there to see her anyways. Why did she feel so giddy, and also… embarrassed? She felt like she was reading someone’s diary, even though the letter was clearly addressed to her and she had already read it. Years ago. She scanned over the text again, regarding Maria’s perfect handwriting. She felt like she was reading a love letter. Maybe it was, but she was too anxious to entertain the thought too much. She wasn’t exactly sure what that would mean, and she wasn’t sure if this year's old letter still even meant anything other than friendship.

Maria had been tight lipped about a lot of stuff, even though she pretended like she wasn’t. Her and Monica always answered Carol’s questions openly, happily for the most part unless it was about the ‘missing period’. They all tried to avoid that subject now, as time had gone by, but they all also knew that it would come up naturally sometimes and it couldn’t be left unanswered all the time. Aside from that, to the untrained eye, it seemed like Maria was willing to give up any bit of information that would help get them all back to how they used to be or at least help figure out what life looked like moving forward. But Carol knew better, she had a very well trained eye for Maria Rambeau, it was second nature for her - with or without the gaps in her memory. There had been a few moments,  just brief enough to almost miss, since Carol came back the first time with Fury and even more recently on some of her visits, when the unshakeable Maria had gotten flustered or nervous, where the heat currently in Carol’s cheeks had been in hers. When her heart threatened to beat so hard it would leap from her chest. Granted, she hid it well but again, Carol could always see through her. She seldom was at a loss for words or made quick, messy cover ups in conversation. Usually the people around them didn’t even notice. Monica didn’t even catch it, or at least didn’t acknowledge it. It happened once or twice when Carol and Maria were alone, too. Carol knew things like that only happened when Maria felt unsure, or when she really didn’t want to talk about something. Anyone who had ever met Maria knew she was as straightforward as they come, so that’s what made Carol pay extra attention when she was avoiding something. 

The thoughts of romance danced around Carol’s brain tauntingly, aching for her to pull them forward and examine them. But knowing how Maria was, and knowing that she only got that way when she was purposefully avoiding something, Carol settled on a quiet feeling of rejection instead - against her better judgment. She let it swell through her, enflaming the previous feelings of embarrassment right along with it. She put the letter away, resigning that she should just be thankful to have a friend who cares for her so much and that she wouldn’t allow herself to think anything else. She did this often, rejected herself before other people could to avoid the stinging feeling of embarrassment or disappointment her parents and the people she grew up with often supplied her with.

Maria never made her feel that way, and maybe that's why she would accept this quiet, self imposed feeling now instead of facing it in person with the other woman. She couldn’t risk ruining something she had just gotten back, anyways. Right? Right, she forced herself to agree in her head. She decided to go find Monica and clear her head of the letter. As she walked out, she glanced at the picture of Maria and the child again and sighed softly, letting a small smile of gratitude cover her face. This could be enough for her, if she would let it be.

Monia was sitting on the couch still, no longer paying any mind to the tv playing in the background. She was eagerly reading through the huge phone book they usually had sitting on the coffee table, bracing it against her bended knees as she flipped through the yellow pages quickly. 

“What’re you looking for, Lt. Trouble?”

“Someone who sells the parts I need for my next invention! What letter do you think that would be under?”

Carol laughs, deciding to humor the girl.

“Hmm, you know I’m not sure. Have you tried under sales? Or maybe…a junkyard?”

“I could try the junkyard! I didn’t try that yet!”

“Maybe I can get you a hook up from Fury, orrrr maybe your mom knows someone at her job? What’re you even looking for?”

“I already asked her last week! She said she would check but I think she was just saying that. Here’s my list.”

Monica handed Carol a surprisingly long list, with a few things checked off that Carol assumed were already laying around the house. She wondered if Maria knew that these things had been checked off, which gave her a good chuckle. She set the list down and turned to Monica.

“Okay, I think I can get you some of these but the bigger things are definitely gonna need some work. Maybe we can roll down to the junkyard this week?”

“YES! And no take-backsies!”

“Wouldn’t dare. How about you come help me handle the laundry and dishes and then we can head outside?”

“Deal. I think you might need help figuring out the detergent set up Ma’ has anyways. She’s very particular.” 

Monica explains, leaping up into action and grabbing Carol’s hand to pull her along.

Monica was right, Maria had a very elaborate and strict laundry system. The two of them likely didn’t get it exactly right but they did their best to pay attention to details neither of them really cared about but knew Maria did, wanting not only to please and respect Maria, but also wanting to avoid what she would have to say about it if they got it wrong or chose to ignore it. Carol tried to use her powered speed and agility to help make the process move quicker, but it only hindered the experience. She noted that the chance to move slowly and be mindful was probably why Maria seemed to enjoy the routine of laundry and such. It probably helped calm her down and help her be present after long days working to protect the whole world, while still having to be a full time mom to a rather rambunctious child, on top of whatever anxiety Carol added throughout her week. She smiled and decided to try and match the attentiveness. Her and Monica spent a while switching between loading and unloading, doing the dishes left over from dinner last night and breakfast - eventually returning to sort and fold the clean clothes and linens. It smelled lovely in the laundry room, reminding both of them of Maria. It comforted them in a way only she could. 

Once they finished with the inside chores, they decided to mix and match to-do lists. Monica needed to catch some frogs just as much as Carol needed to mow the lawn, she insisted. Carol agreed to help her catch some frogs if she would agree to help her patch up some of the paint that Maria had been avoiding doing. They shook on it, running off into the field that would be mowed down later in the day. They went at it excitedly, jumping around in the tall grass and dirt, painting not so gracefully and splattering white paint on each other by “accident”.

By the time they finished the side of the house and Monica had caught, released and named at least eight frogs that she swore were all different despite being nearly identical, they had both created more laundry to do and were both definitely in need of a bath but neither minded in the slightest. Even once they were done, they chased each other around tirelessly until Monica was hiccupping and giggling at the same time. Carol marveled at Monica’s intrinsic wonder and love at the world around her. In her Hero heart, watching it solidified her sense of duty to protect the galaxy, making sure nothing and no one could ever bring harm to the world her daughter so loved. But in her Carol heart, it made her giddy too. Almost envious in a way. She missed the days when she could roll around in a yard and only worry about trying not to crush too many bugs. Now she had to worry about whether someone was going to crush a planet or not. She often longed for a childhood she never really had, and sometimes even the one she did have when she could piece it together. She knew it wasn’t a good one, but she had Maria. She just had Maria. And now Monica does too, and god was she glad about it. 

Carol picked the younger girl up and flew her to the front porch in a flash, something Maria would swear she didn’t approve of as she fought back her own giggles. Monica shouted with pure glee as her feet landed back on the wood she knew well. They zipped in the house and ran to the kitchen, ready for lunch. Monica decided she would handle making it, promising Carol the best turkey and cheese sandwich she would ever have. Or at least better than she could make herself.

“Mayo or mustard Mama?”

Carol beamed a grin across her face, feeling a familiar hot blush swipe across her at the word mama but she tried to play it cool.

“I want whatever you’re having, Trouble!”

Carol responded happily, only after registering the fact that she hated mustard and hoped that Monica did too. She watched as the girl ran through the kitchen, leaving a small mess across different surfaces. She whipped up the two sandwiches like she did it very often, and sat two plates down in front of Carol with a big toothy smile. 

“Wa-La! The Trouble special!” 

She exclaimed, nudging the sandwich to Carol and taking a big bite out of her own, leaving a smudge of mayo on the inner side of her finger. Thank god, Carol laughed to herself. Before she could remind the girl to make sure she cleaned up, Monica was already stacking up her ingredients and propping open the fridge with her foot. This made the woman smile, knowing she had probably heard one too many times from Maria about cleaning up after herself. 

“Take a bite!” Monica mumbled, chewing down another bite herself and gesturing to Carol with her hands. Carol bit into the sandwich and began mimicking the fancy chefs they would watch on tv together.

“Mmm! Magnificent work yet again, Chef Rambeau!”

Monica smiled before straightening her face and standing up straight before taking a bow, nearly dropping her own sandwich. They both laughed and enjoyed their sandwiches, Carol deciding to sneak Monica a coke in thanks for making the best sandwich she’d ever had, saying "this ones on me” and promising to tell Maria she drank them if she asks. Once they both finished and decided that Monica won the burping contest, they decided to tackle the lawn and climb the tree. Monica ran back outside like she had all the energy in the world, and Carol followed behind at a much slower pace as if she didn’t literally have all the energy in the world.

They took turns pushing the mower up and down the huge yard in different directions, trying to make different drawings with the pattern it created. Carol figured Maria wouldn’t mind much. Once they finished, both sweating under the direct heat of the sun, they were both happy to have some reprieve when they made their way over to the trees. Carol laid down in the grass underneath the biggest tree, grateful for the shade it provided.

She breathed deep, taking in the soft wind that was blowing. It wasn’t as humid as she had expected, another thing she was grateful for. Monica plopped herself next to her, pulling up her tee shirt sleeves to match Carol’s rolled up sleeves. She poked at the tan line appearing where the shirt sat for most of the day. Carol pointed to her own, kind of happy to have a tan to her brown skin again. She spent a lot of time in her suit, so it always felt nice to have regular clothes on. She thought about how the sun on earth felt so different than on other planets, who all had different sources of heat and light. She looked over at Monica, who was now laying down too, watching a lady bug crawl through her hands. She was brighter than the sun, Carol thought, before she pushed her sunglasses up her forehead to tangle in her fro’ again.

“So, you’re gonna conquer the big one today, huh?”

“Absolutely. Mom always gets nervous so she told me to wait until you came home again. The whole super power thing and stuff.”

Monica rolled her eyes and continued looking at the lady bug with curiosity.

“Well, she kinda has a point kiddo. Let’s do it.”

Monica jumped to her feet, pausing only to gently place the lady back in the grass and hopped over to the foot of the tree. She walked around it, looking for the perfect place to start. She found her footing and called Carol over to spot her from behind.

“Alright, pay attention and be careful. Let me know if you get stuck, okay?”

“Gotcha gotcha. If I get stuck, will you fly up to me?” 

Monica asked while climbing up the first couple inches, hoisting herself up to find a sturdy hand hold between two branches and bracing her legs against either side. 

“We’ll see.”

Carol watched intently, squinting her eyes against the sun and smiling with her teeth, hands ready to catch Monica. The girl climbed up a few feet and held on tight.

“So, this is how far I got last time with Mom. I just have to streeetchhhhh over to the next branch.”

“You got this, just pretend your arms are made of elastic and reach.”

Monica tried a few times to stretch over with no success, before deciding to just leap as far as she could to connect her hands. Carol’s heart nearly jumped out her chest, not even realizing her own feet had ended up off the ground, floating next to the girl who had successfully made the jump. She smiled at her mom, ignoring the small scratches on her forearms that were starting to bleed just a little bit.

“Jesu- Good job, Trouble! Just maybe tell me next time?”

“We’ll see.”

Monica shot back with that same toothy grin her mother has. She made her way up the rest of the tree and sat on the highest branch she felt comfortable with, kicking her feet with pride. Carol decided to climb the tree next, doing it with ease to meet Monica on the branch. She sat on the one next to it, as to not add too much weight. 

“Why didn’t you just fly or float or something?” 

“That would be cheating! Plus, I wanna be as cool as you are. I wish I had a camera so we could show your mom!”

“I’ll just have to do it again!”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

Carol laughed, squeezing Monica’s cheek just a bit before letting her climb on her shoulders to fly back down and head to the house to clean up. 

After washing up, they decided to play some video games for a bit until it was time to start setting up for dinner. They had about two hours until Maria got home and they both wanted to at least be started on food when she arrived. Monica pulled out all her favorites and told Carol to pick which one to play first. They took turns picking after the first few rounds of operation, shutes and ladders, and jenga - all of which Monica won.

Carol insisted on playing something she had a fighting chance at, so they grabbed the deck of cards from the coffee table and played Go Fish. Carol won the first round, but Monica won the last three. Finally, admitting full defeat, Carol asked if they had anymore games. Monica grabbed two more from where they kept them, splaying them on the table. Carol’s eyes caught something familiar, pulling it to herself without a thought. She stared at the worn box and tried to remember. Monica watched, offering an explanation just as Carol was finding one of her own.

“Mom says she always used to beat you at this. She wouldn’t play it with me for a while but one day she brought it out after dinner and taught me. She beat me too the first two times, but I beat her after that. You wanna play?”

Carol wasn’t sure if she was biting back a smile, a laugh, or tears. She nodded and let Monica set the board up. Monica read the instructions out loud just in case Carol didn’t remember it, which Carol wasn’t sure if she did. She decided to just play and see what sticks. Monica handed her the light blue piece without asking, and Carol saw that it had her initials written on it. She watched as Monica sorted through the colors, passing over the purple one that had M.R written on it. She felt a tug in her heart as she watched Monica choose the red one that had a small, barely legible M.R on it too. She watched as Monica pulled out cards and then a set of white and black dice. Carol stood up abruptly, leaving Monica no time to question it.

“Hang on, there’s two pieces missing. I’ll go grab them.”

Carol ran upstairs almost embarrassingly fast and b-lined for the box she had looked through earlier. She grabbed the two colorful die she had left there earlier and headed back downstairs, feeling a mixture of excitement and belonging, along with a deeper, quieter sense of yearning. 

Her and Monica played several rounds, Monica winning the first one until Carol remembered all her strategies from all the times she had beat Maria’s ass at the game. Carol agreed to another game, rolling the dice first since she lost the last round. She rolled doubles, and took her turn. While Monica was doing her lucky roll ritual of blowing on the dice and kissing her small hands, Carol felt herself slipping into a memory she had long displaced. She let herself remember slowly, recalling the reason the dice had even been separated from the game board in the first place. 

“You take the board, I’ll take the dice. That way, we both have a piece, neither of us can play, and then no one else gets the chance to whoop your ass. That’s reserved for my talents.”

Carol laughed, but she was being serious. She was desperate to hold onto anything that could be just for them. Something she could carry in her pocket shamelessly, that no one would understand if they saw. They might think she had a gambling addiction or something, no one would suspect she was trying to hold onto any remnants she could of the woman she loved in her everyday life. She watched as Maria chuckled, probably formulating a sarcastic comeback, Carol assumed with a smirk. Maria never just accepted defeat, that's why they had played the game so many times. 

“Sounds good to me, Danvers. I wouldn’t let anybody else win, anyway.” 

Maria quipped back, knowing she never actually let the other woman win but she couldn’t resist making her think about the possibility. She, too, was happy to keep as many tangible reminders of what they had with her. They both had been fighting with themselves for their friendship to be enough, that having that ripped away from them sent them both reeling. She rubbed her finger over the ripped up pricing sticker on the back of the box waiting for Carol to respond.

“Yeah, OKAY. Like hell you let me win. No one loses that many times, THAT bad and is just letting-”

Maria wrapped her arms around the other woman, letting the box and a few pieces fall out on her bed. She held on tight and fought against sniffling. She wouldn’t let herself let it go. Let her go. She felt Carol choke on the words she didn’t get to finish and relax her body into the embrace. It was almost too relaxed. Neither wanted to admit they were fighting back tears that might never stop flowing if they let them start.

Carol didn’t mind being cut off, she was just finding words to string together anyway. There really wasn’t time for small talk but what else were they supposed to do? Leave it up to Maria to figure it out. To do the thing no one else would. To make the move everyone was afraid to - the one Carol was afraid too. Most people thought Carol was the fearless one just based off her usual demeanor and what people saw her do. Little did they know that she had never been more terrified than in this moment. Not knowing when they’d be able to play the game again. Not knowing when they would be able to touch like this again. Not knowing anything other than that they were afraid and loved each other so deeply.

They sat like that for longer than they both figured they should’ve, but neither felt any regret or shame in the moments as they piled up. They both ignored the awkward angle they were in, they both ignored the sounds outside the barracks room, they both ignored the clock as it ticked cruelly forward. They sank into each other, both laying their chins on the other's shoulder, letting the sides of their faces touch. It was close enough to look over and kiss. Neither dared to let the thought get too loud, choosing to let the contact be enough. It always had to be just enough, between them.

They didn’t say much after that, just small hums and sniffles here and there as they rocked slowly trying to find any sort of comfort they could. They laid down after a while, and before Maria could protest through her tears, Carol promised she would get up early enough to make it back to her room before the bus left the base. They laid there, quietly fighting sleep, wrapped as close together as they could be. Maria kept her face down and her forehead on Carol’s chest, Carol kept her arm under Maria’s neck and pulled her as close as she could with the other. Eventually she reached for Maria’s hand, this time it was her turn to do the thing that they both needed someone to do. Maria eventually cried herself to sleep, and Carol stayed up just rocking her softly until the sun came up. 

When she stood up to leave, grabbing her bags and smoothing a hand over her braid, Maria turned over to take her in. She tried to glare at her, but it softened itself against her will into a sad smile. 

“Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye, Danvers.” 

They both felt a warm tear or two tear itself across their cheeks. Carol tried her best to match the smile Maria was bravely offering her but it came off even weaker. She walked over and kissed the woman on the forehead before turning to leave, afraid that if she stayed even a minute longer she would never leave. Thoughts of going AWOL floated through her head for the billionth time since she had gotten her orders four days ago. She fought them off with as much strength as she could muster and took another step into the door frame.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She felt the glare of a rising sun sear into her eyes and she stepped through the threshold, choosing not to look back at the woman on the bed she had just left. Maria wondered if she would’ve looked back either, as she let herself curl into herself and let out the sobs she was fighting back before. She silenced them as best as she could and stayed that way until she had to get up, leaving her no choice but to pull herself together into something that resembled the woman she was just a few days before. 

Carol stood outside the door, trying hard not to listen for Maria for a moment before forcing her feet forward. Step after step, more tears fell from her as she grit her teeth to fight back the screams sitting in her chest. She, too, had to be put together in the next few minutes and it seemed the most impossible task. It almost was.

“Ma’? It’s your turn.”

Carol shook her head, only then registering the wetness in her eyes. She picked up the dice and rolled them, trying to refocus on the game infront of her. She shouted when she rolled doubles again, meaning she got to go twice now.

“Looks like I still got it, afterall!”

“Yeah.. sure. Let’s ignore that I beat you all the other times.” 

Monica laughed out, observing the change in her mother.

“I was just letting you win!”

Carol laughed, mostly to herself, as she moved the blue piece across the board.

“That’s what mom always says. I don’t believe her and I definitely don’t believe you!”

Monica shot back playfully. This made them both laugh, knowing it was true. Some things don’t change.

They kept playing a few turns until Monica finally decided to ask the question she had been formulating the whole game so far.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just now, after you took your first turn. It seemed like you weren’t really here for a little bit.” 

Monica, just like her mother, ever to the point. Carol hesitated before choosing to just answer truthfully.

“Sometimes, when I’m home with you guys or even when I’m out there in space.. If I touch something, or smell something or someone says a certain somethin’... I remember stuff. Sometimes its just a quick second in my mind, sometimes its like flashbacks. I have a lot of rememberin’ to do, so sometimes I get stuck trying to see it clearly.”

Monica stared at the woman in front of her with understanding eyes. She waited a moment before responding.

“That makes sense, you know. I heard on TV that amnesia can make it take a while to get all your memories back.”

Carol shifted in her seat at the word amnesia, because it was so medical. She never actually did get checked out by a doctor on earth, trying to avoid a conversation about why she was super charged 24/7. She didn’t want to draw attention to her family but she had heard the word being tossed around by Fury and Maria a few times. She nodded at Monica, motioning for the girl to take her turn as they talked. Monica continued.

“Ya’know… I like when you remember stuff. Sometimes I get sad thinking you don’t know all the stuff I do. But then I just remember that it's still in there somewhere. There’s a lot of good stuff waiting for you.”

The girl smiled reassuringly, finishing her turn and deciding to pat Carol’s hand softly just like her mom does to her when she’s upset by something.

“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“Of course I know that. I’m actually a genius, but that’s all just semantics.”

“You got me there, kiddo.”

Carol said while rolling the dice again and moving her pieces. She might actually win this round.

“If you ever have any questions about stuff, you can just ask me. Mommy doesn’t always tell you or me everything, but I remember. Sometimes I think I know more than both of you combined.” 

Monica smirked, looking over the board calculating precisely how to take Carol out now that she had her where she wanted her. She took her turn calmly, trying not to alert Carol to her master plan. Carol watched mindlessly as the girls piece glided across the board. Maybe she wouldn’t win this round, actually.

“That would be nice, Mon. Thanks. You can ask me stuff too. Also, just spare me and take me out now!”

Carol smirked back, knowing she would have to roll doubles again to beat the red piece.

“It’s no fun if you just give up!”

Carol decided to do Monica’s good luck trick this time, blowing on each die separately and then kissing her hands when she brought them together. She tossed them on the board aimlessly, trying not to focus on the numbers so she didn’t jinx it. They both watched as both die rolled a 3.

“No way!”

“Haha! Maybe your lucky trick does work!” 

Carol laughed as she moved her piece past Monica’s and into the goal. Finally, a win. She stood up and did a goofy dance around the table like Monica had done before her when she was winning. They both started the giggles again, deciding it was probably time to start cleaning up and getting everything ready for dinner.

As they sorted through the cabinets together, Monica standing on the counter despite what her mother would say, Monica began telling Carol stories to see if she could help jog her memory since Carol hadn’t asked any questions yet. She ran through her baby years, her toddler years - especially her ‘troublesome two’s’ as Maria calls them, and everything up until when Carol went missing. They both chose not to talk about why there was such a gap in time. Carol listened quietly, laughing here and there when the story almost always resulted in some hilarious mishap on Carol and Monica’s part. Monica felt successful as she could see her mom piecing things together while they attempted to boil noodles and mix together pasta sauce on the stove. They both tried to keep it from getting messy, not wanting to add any stress to Maria’s plate when she got home. 

Monica told as many stories as she could while Carol took them in happily, filing some away to focus on later when she could fully process them. They were all happy moments, usually funny. It was nice to know that life was good before the accident. Finally, when they started grating the cheese together, Monica decided she would ask some questions now since she had told so many stories. She had a lot she wanted to know too. 

“Here, you do this one and I’ll do this one. Just be careful with the grater, it can get tricky towards the end.” 

Carol motioned to Monica as she walked over to the table with a bowl to put the cheese in when they were done. Carol picked up some cheese and got to work, being mindful herself. Just because cuts healed up quickly for her didn’t mean they didn’t sting when she got them. She knew this well, especially being in a kitchen. Monica started grating too, trying to perfectly time her question. She had been through the boxes upstairs too, always making sure to leave them how she found them so she didn’t tip her mother off. She never understood why she kept them private from her like she didn’t already know about most of the stuff in there. 

“So, why don’t you and mom kiss anymore?”

Carol’s hand skidded to a stop, a choke coming up her throat that ended in a cough she could barely get out. She stood there stunned for a moment, unsure if she had heard the girl correctly. She didn’t notice the small cut on the side of her finger from the edge of the grater yet.

“W-what?”

“Why don’t you and mommy kiss anymore? I don’t know why she keeps all that stuff in the boxes upstairs a secret like I didn’t always see you guys. It was normal when you guys acted normal, now it’s weird seeing you two act different. Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

Carol was still too stunned to speak, standing over the more than half grated cheese that was now no good to use since her finger was bleeding a bit more. Monica looked up at her and noticed the blood, then stared at her with those same curious eyes, only now a touch of concern in them. Carol could feel the stare so she forced herself to shake her head again, clearing her throat in the process.

“I, um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about I don’t think.”

“Right. Here, your blood is ruining the cheese.”

Monica handed her a towel. Carol looked down and finally noticed all the blood. It wasn’t a crazy amount but definitely enough to have ruined the cheese. She wrapped the towel around it and walked to the sink, rinsing it off with cool water while she felt like she was in a daze. She started thinking about the letter Maria had sent her again. She read through the words in her head again, over and over while the water stung her finger. She could hear Monica in the back cleaning up her mess and she felt bad. She felt bad for ruining a part of dinner per usual, but also for reacting this way. And for not actually having an answer. She couldn’t have been sure before this but now she could.

Maybe? Maybe Monica meant cheek kissing or forehead kisses. Maybe her child mind was more innocent than Carol’s confused one. She turned the water off and looked in the junk drawer for some bandaids. She pulled out a pink barbie one and wrapped it tight over her new cut. It would probably be gone in a few hours but she wanted the security of the bandaid in the moment. For some reason, she felt shaken up again. Her face felt hot and her chest felt tight. She turned back to Monica who was finishing up her grating now, adding it into the bowl. As Carol walked back over to grab it to put with the rest of the food, she was searching for something to say in response that actually made sense. Before she could get anything out, Monica chimed in again.

“I’m sorry I asked, I wasn’t sure if it would make you feel funny. But please don’t tell mom I was snooping. I just wanted to see as much of you as I could. But she’ll be upset with me if you tell, I think.”

“Don’t worry about it, Trouble. Secrets safe with me.” 

Carol said, smiling weakly at the girl. Monica did feel bad, but she also kind of knew this would be the reaction Carol would have. It only confirmed one of her theories, that Carol didn’t remember that her and Maria were in a relationship. She was almost tempted to say something else when they both heard the sound of Maria’s car pull in the long drive way. They looked at each other and nodded quickly. Monica started cleaning off the table while Carol started making plates. Finally, something her super speed could help with. She made all three plates and set them on the table right as Maria opened the front door. Monica ran over to her, hugging her tightly as she hung her bag on the rack near the door. She hugged back, running her hand softly over the girls forehead with a smile. 

“Smells good in here. Did Monica cook?” Maria laughed, kicking off her work shoes and slipping on the sandals she wore around the house. 

“Haha, very funny!”

Carol shouted from the kitchen where she was borderline having a panic attack, trying to figure out how to act normal enough to get through the rest of the night with Monica’s question looming over her head.

“Nope, I only helped! Mama Carol did most of the work. I made lunch though. Mom said it was the best sandwich she’d ever had anywhere in all the galaxies!”

Monica exclaimed, only half telling the truth, as she nearly dragged Maria to the kitchen table. 

“I said something like that, yes.”

Carol laughed, her mouth forming into a smile when her eyes met Maria’s.

Maria smiled back before quickly looking around the kitchen, half expecting to see a new scorch mark somewhere. 

“It looks… the same as I left it, in here, minus a few dirty dishes. I’m impressed, Danvers.” 

Maria smirked, walking to the sink to wash her hands before sitting down and letting Monica get in her lap. She was certainly growing, she barely fit between the table and Maria anymore but she always made it work. 

“How was your day?”

Monica asked her mother, once again kicking her feet excitedly, being back in the presence of Maria. It meant a lot to Maria that she still got excited to see her. She hoped it would last through puberty.

“Ya’know, same ol’ same ol’. Protecting the world from aliens, which oddly enough usually is just a bunch of paperwork no one else reads or signs. So, pretty successful I guess.”

Maria laughed, pulling Monica’s cheek in for a small peck.

“I’m more interested in how YA’LL’S day went. The lawn looks… great, by the way.”

Before Carol could chime in, which she wasn’t going to being that she was staring at Maria’s toned arms the entire time she’d been in the room, Monia answered for them both.

“It was AWESOME! We caught so many frogs, I named one after you, and then I finally climbed up the whole tree!”

Maria chuckled, noting the small scrapes on her daughter but not worrying. It wasn’t a normal day if Monica didn’t get at least one scrape or bruise from her exploring.

“Well, I’m flattered. Did you get any help from a certain superhero, by any chance?”

“Nope, she did it all on her own. Much faster than I did, too.”

Carol answered while shooting her hands up like finger guns, shooting a wink to Monica who delighted at the remark.

Maria looked at the pink Barbie bandaid on the woman’s finger and half laughed half frowned.

“Seems like no one made it out without a few cuts today, huh?”

Carol looked down at her hand, almost embarrassed. She laughed.

“She got that from grating cheese, not climbing the tree!”

Monica answered, once again saving Carol from trying to find words. 

“Why am I not surprised? Well anyways, thank you both for doing such a good job with the chores today. Looks like you both really earned that extra tv time tonight.” 

Maria winked at them both before letting Monica scoot off her leg and back into her own chair, ready to eat.

“Thank god, I’m so hungry. I forgot to pack lunch last night so all I had today was a bunch of coffee and some nasty as- mm, some gross altoids my secretary had.”

“Sheesh. I hope it actually tastes like food this time then! Oop, I forgot the forks.” Carol said, about to get up and grab them. Monica beat her to it and ran over to the counter, leaving the two women with a moment or two to take each other in. They both held back a sigh, and just smiled at each other. The eye contact felt too much for both of them, for the same and different reasons. 

Monica returned and they broke their shared gaze, both feeling a mixture of missing it and thankful that it was over. Monica handed everyone a fork she had picked specifically for them and they all ate, swapping stories of their days back and forth. Maria laughed feeling relieved hearing how well the day went, she was hoping she would still have a house to come back between Monica and Carol. As they were all finishing their meals, Maria noticed the stack of games left out on the coffee table. 

“Make sure you put those up, Mon’.” She said softly, taking a sip of some iced tea. 

“I will. Also, guess who won the most games tonight? Guess, guess!”

Carol shook her head with a laugh.

“Hmm, if I was gonna take a wild guess… You?!” 

Maria smiled widely, pointing at her daughter playfully.

“You betcha’! I whooped Mama Carol’s butt like eighty billion times at all the games. Even the one you taught me that she was supposed to be super good at, even with the new fancy dice! She only won that one three times, and the last one was just pure luck cause’ I almost had it!” 

Carol and Monica laughed together, and suddenly Maria’s eyes unfocused. The laughter in the background melted into one sound, and everything else started to go quiet. She thought about the dice. The colors on the dots. Where she had left them sitting, in the box, in her room. She thought about why they were in Carol’s belongings and not her own. Then she thought about everything else that was in the box with them. She only came to when Monica and Carol’s laughing slowed down, reminding her that it would seem weird if she didn’t respond in the next second or two.

“Well, it looks like the mighty do fall sometimes. I used to let her win that game every time we played it.” 

Maria half heartedly laughed with a smirk, almost instantly regretting bringing up the past. Carol looked down at her almost empty plate for a moment before fixing her own face to shoot back something well timed and sarcastic enough to play off the shudder that sentence sent through her spine.

“Hmm, crazy cause when it comes to everyone else in the world, meaning you, I’m still the world champion. Monica just had that lucky dice trick.” 

Before Maria could even laugh, Monica jumped in.

“Hey! It’s not just the lucky dice, I just also happen to be the smartest person in the whole wide stinkin’ world too!”

“You make a good point.”

Carol and Maria said in unison, both with an adoring laugh. All three looked at each other and broke out laughing, feeling thankful for the lack of awkwardness that probably would’ve left in the air if it wasn’t so funny.

After that, everyone finished and avoided the different subjects on everyone’s minds happily. Carol cleaned up the plates, grazing by Maria’s arm while she walked to the sink. Monica pulled Maria over to the couch with her while Carol washed the dishes, quickly putting away all the games they had left out and positioning herself on the couch while Maria flipped through the channels for her. She had sat right in the middle, leaving just enough space for either woman on both sides of her. She really did live up to that nickname sometimes, both mother’s thought. When Carol made her way over, they were just settling on a show to watch. 

“Remember, you get 10 extra minutes.”

“Does that have to count commercials? Can we pause the timer when they come on? Pleeeeeaasssshhhhh.”

Monica pretended to beg to both women who laughed. 

“We’ll see what we can do. Time starts now, though.”

Maria answered her. Monica turned towards the tv and leaned back, wanting to take in every minute she had. She normally would get about an episode and a half in during her nighttime tv, maybe two if her mom dozed off in between. She was sure she was going to get at least two this time, since Maria looked sleepy. She didn’t account for Carol’s super powers making her have a longer stamina, but she figured she wouldn’t snitch. She looked up at her as they watched and she shot her down a wink in return, solidifying their silent agreement. As long as it was still summertime, Carol didn’t have an issue with it. Of course, she wouldn’t go against Maria, though, unless of course she fell asleep. Which she usually did. 

The three sat through an episode, choosing not to count the commercials in their internal timers, and started the second one. A few minutes in, Monica had positioned herself with her head and back on Carol’s lap, with her legs and feet on Maria’s. She watched the show quietly, not noticing herself dozing off. Once the second episode was over, she was fast asleep, nearly drooling on Carol. Both women laughed quietly at the sight. Maria reaches for the remote to turn off the tv while Carol effortlessly lifts Monica up and begins to walk her to her room. As she walks away, Maria fights the idea of Carol lifting her that way and carrying her to bed. She shakes her head and stands up to go to the fridge.

When Carol makes her way back downstairs after carefully tucking the young girl in, she’s greeted with Maria passing her a beer and a bottle opener. 

“Not sure if you still need to use these, but c’mon.”

Carol doesn’t need it but she chooses to use it anyway. She follows Maria without question through the front door and onto the porch. The sun is down now and it’s not quite as warm as it was the night before. 

“God, I’ve been waiting for this all day.” 

Maria says, taking a long swig from the cold bottle. She sits down on the steps and leans back on her elbows, beer still laced between her fingers. She looks like she’s relaxing but Carol wonders if she is. She stands against one of the posts for a moment, opening her beer, before sitting down next to the woman but not too close. She hopes she’s the only one who can feel the tension in the air. It’s different than last time she was home.

“Long day, I take it?”

“Always.” 

Maria sighs with a short laugh, taking another sip. 

“But that’s the job. I’m sure you get it.”

Maria finishes, not sure if what she said sounded shady or not. It wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe it was, but it wasn’t coming from the part of her she was trying to show up as it. It was coming from the part she was burying inside of her.

“I do, but I also don’t. You have a lot to handle all the time. I’m happy I… can help, I guess.”

Carol wasn’t sure if that last part was a question or not. They both almost flinched at the word help. Carol was more than just a friend who liked to help. She was a parent and neither wanted her to take that away from herself just because of how long she had been away. Both decided not to say anything in the moment, though. They both just sipped their beers and looked out in front of them, gazing up and out at the world around them. Somehow, it felt bigger now that they were both on it together.

Maria thought about the box again, trying to keep it from her mind to no avail. She also thought about Carol’s skin grazing against hers in the kitchen earlier. She wondered if their contact would be minimal. Despite the late night and early morning they had shared, they hadn’t really touched or even been this close since. The first night never counted, that was their unspoken rule since the second time Carol had been home.

She was exhausted when she arrived, fighting to stay awake long enough to talk to both Rambeaus’ even though she wanted to so badly. It had been a particularly grueling mission and she had flown directly back to Earth after the conflict was over, not taking a break. So, when Maria offered to watch some TV with her on the couch, she sank quickly into the cushions. Before they knew it, they had woken up to the sun coming through the living room windows, curled into each other. Neither thought it was weird then, so why was it weird now? 

Carol thought about the box too, rereading the words from the letter in her mind again. Thinking about the pictures on Maria’s desk. Then she thought about the dream she had, with everyone sitting on the porch. She was so deep into replaying it that she almost jumped when a frog hopped by, startling both women from their respective day dreams.

“I think that’s the one Monica named after you.”

Carol laughed, remembering the day she had fondly.

“I’m flattered.”

Maria laughed back, the laugh jumping up her throat. It’s like she needed to laugh, after a long day of dealing with domestic and intergalactic bullshit, along with the mark Carol was burning into her brain.

It started to go quiet again until Carol spoke up, feeling the bubbles from the beer in her brain even if it wasn’t going to get her tipsy.

“You know, I dream about sitting on this porch a lot.” “Yeah?”

Maria asks, not looking at Carol.

“Yeah. With you and Mon. There’s always a shit ton of bubbles everywhere and it’s always a really nice day. I have that dream a lot. Except for when I’m actually here.”

Carol explained, partly relieved to share it with Maria. She leaned back, taking a sip before setting the beer down on the step next to her. She waited to see if Maria would answer, unsure if she wanted her to. 

Maria sat with a small smile, unsure if she would be able to keep herself composed through the moment. She dreams about home. 

“You know, when you first came back with your powers, I wondered if you still even needed to sleep.”

“Ha, you know I had the same thought when I realized I wasn’t actually half Kree. On the planet, I slept but I never felt tired. I only started to feel regular human things when I came back here. It was nice to feel sleepy again. It made rest feel satisfying, instead of just kind of necessary.”

Maria looked over at Carol, daring to meet eyes if she looked over too. She wanted to run a hand over the woman's thigh, comfort her for all the things she was sure were running through her mind. She wanted to reach out, pull her into her chest, and hold her there like a child. She wanted to rip all the pain of being conditioned and having to fight to undo it from her, stop it out on the ground and set it on fire for her. With a regular match, not fire from her hands even though sometimes she was convinced she could produce some magic power from her own hands too if she let herself feel enough. She hadn’t realized she had been staring and hadn’t responded until Carol finally turned to look at her. 

“I’m okay, you know. You don’t have to look at me like I’m gonna burst into flames any second. I’m okay, I feel normal being here.”

Carol smiled reassuringly, almost shyly.

“I know, I just hate those bastards.”

Maria sighed, letting her shoulders fall as she looked down at the space between them.

“I feel you. But, you know, someone once told me hate takes up too much room.”

Maria’s heart skipped a beat. Of course Carol would remember one of her wiser parables now, when all she wanted to do was be angry for her. It was usually the other way around, but despite her usual craziness, Carol always had a way of saying the right thing at the right time, even if she didn’t mean to. A superpowered space warrior was right two times a day, it seemed. She let herself laugh, but it came out rougher than she had expected. 

Carol reached over instinctively to grab her hand, squeezing it tight. That’s the second time. Maria thought, wondering if Carol was counting the times they touched too. She felt a dangerous warmth push its way to her chest. She would blame it on the beer like she always did but she couldn’t. Why was she on the verge of tears?

“Hey.” Carol whispered, trying to look at the woman’s face. She tried to smile, squeezing her hand again. This time, Maria squeezed back before pulling it away and picking her empty beer bottle up. 

“I think I’m gonna take a shower, long day, you know. If you wanna borrow some pajamas again, feel free to grab some from my dresser.”

Carol sat still for a moment, wondering if she had gone too far. Normally conversations like this would flow with ease and mutual fluidity. They would hang on each other’s every word until the inevitable came when the sun rose. Maria would wake Monica up to say goodbye, they’d share a cup or two of coffee and by the time the sun was almost at it’s peak, Carol would be long in the distance, no longer even in the atmosphere. So now, having more time than normal, she hoped she hadn’t over stepped. As Maria closed in on the door, only half a step before entering, Carol turned around to look at her.

“Where do you want me to sleep?”

Maria paused, not sure what to say. How did she communicate that she would rather pull her own hair out strand by strand than lay in her bed alone, without Carol Danvers, for another night? How did she explain that she didn’t want to sleep, she was tired in a way only Carol’s skin and fingers and mouth could heal her of? How did she communicate that this was her house too, and she could sleep wherever the fuck she wanted - on the roof if she pleased - as long as Maria could be next to her, without saying any of that?

“Wherever you feel comfortable.” She turned and smiled as best as she could before letting the screen door close behind her, trying to keep a normal pace as she made her way to the bathroom.

Carol sat on the steps for a few more minutes, giving Maria time to get her things for her shower ready and giving herself time to ponder what she should do. Should she sleep on the couch? Should she tell Maria that there’s no where in the universe more comfortable to her than next to her? Should she pretend she didn’t read the letter and see the pictures and hear what Monica said earlier? Should she just sleep on the god damn couch? Having not made up her mind yet, she wandered upstairs and pulled out an old teeshirt from one of the boxes she had been in earlier. She shivered when she looked at the box with the letter in it. She forced herself to focus, shuffling through to find anything appropriate to wear and pulled out some old PT shorts. They were certainly going to be shorter on her now than they were then, given she had put on some much needed muscle in certain areas but they’d have to do.

She felt too embarrassed to go through Maria’s drawer, wear her clothes and then awkwardly make her way to the couch downstairs, only to have to face her in the morning when breakfast time came. She didn’t feel right marking Maria’s belongings, even if they were just a bunch of holiday themed pajamas that she didn’t wear that often anyways. 

Carol decided to change as quickly as she could, and wait to say goodnight to Maria when she came in. She figured she should probably sleep on the couch, suddenly feeling very much like a guest who didn’t want to overstay their welcome. She switched out of her bottoms and underwear, jumping into the shorts she had found. They were snug but not uncomfortable. She took her shirt off quickly and as she began pulling her sports bra over her head, Maria walked in.

Shit.

Shit.

They both thought in unison. Thankfully, Carol’s back was to the door, so she pulled on the t shirt she found quickly while scolding herself for not paying attention enough to hear Maria coming down the hall. 

“S-sorry! I didn’t know you were in here yet. Didn’t see anything.” 

Maria assured, despite the fact that she was still staring at Carol’s once bare back while the woman folded up her clothes in a hurry. To Carol’s surprise, when she turned around, all she saw was Maria’s naked shoulders, moisturized perfectly, with a purple towel wrapped around her. She turned back around almost quicker than Maria could register. It was Carol’s turn to stutter.

“Oh shit, s-sorry! I didn’t see anything either! I didn’t hear you coming!”

Maria accidentally laughed.

“Don’t you have super hearing?”

“Shut up! It only works when you pay attention to it! I thought you were still in the shower. I’m surprised you were so fast, Lt. Trouble told me you use all the hot water.”

Carol quipped back confidently, although she was still turned around and suddenly felt very warm.

“Oh, Trouble indeed. What else did she tell you?”

“A bunch.” 

Carol responded with a smirk in her voice. She sounded like a middle schooler, again reminding Maria how alike her and Monica were. 

“I’m sure. You can turn around now, if you want.”

Carol turned to see Maria smoothing a big white shirt over her belly button, quickly covering up the top of her thighs that were barely covered by the blue boy shorts she was wearing underneath. Carol stared down at the clothes in her hands trying not to seem as anxious as she was. She bent down to pick up the black pair of underwear and a sock she had dropped when she heard Maria chuckle.

“HA! What the hell are you wearing? Are those PT shorts? And does your underwear say Danvers? You still do that?” 

She was practically giggling at this point, a sound that sprung butterflies up in Carol’s stomach. It also taunted her, leaving her no choice but to rebuttal. 

“Listen man! I’m working with what I got! And no, I don’t still write my name in my underwear. I got these from the box of my old clothes.” 

Carol quipped, but found herself almost giggling too. She would’ve found it funny if Maria had on PT shorts from bootcamp too. 

“Whew. That is hilarious, Danvers.”

Maria breathes out, barely recovering from her fit of laughter at Carol’s expense. 

“Oh yeah, I’m flattered!”

She rolled her eyes playfully at Maria. They both sat down on the bed trying to collect themselves, both feeling lighter than before by a small margin.

After a few moments, Maria broke the impending silence before it could secure itself between them.

“Seems like you an Mon’ had a good day. Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble for one day.”

“Nah, it wasn’t too bad at all. She did whoop my ass in pretty much every game you guys own though.”

Carol smiled to herself. Maria fought hard to avoid bringing up the board game and the dice again. She quickly found a new topic to latch onto.

“You know, I must say, you also really did a great job not burning the place down with all that cooking you were doing. Are the aliens teaching you how to handle a kitchen or have you been practicing?”

She laughs, almost forced but she was actually impressed.

“Mmm. Id say it was pure dumb luck, but I’m gonna try to replicate it tomorrow.” 

Carol chuckles, not knowing that the mention of tomorrow was sending Maria’s heart into a frenzy. Silence weasled it’s way back between them for a few moments, although Carol didn’t pick up on it as much this time. It wasn’t until Maria broke it again that she realized it was her turn to figure out how to not let it freeze the warm air between them.

“So, there’s a tomorrow?” 

Maria asked timidly, not wanting to latch too tightly onto the idea that Carol might be staying for longer than coffee in the morning.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be here tomorrow. I wanna try my hand at making waffles this time.”

Carol tries to cut the returned tension she felt. 

“I was thinking about working on my old car in the garage too, if that’s okay with you of course.”

“Yeah, of course. You know you don’t have to ask. This is your house, too. And it’s literally your car.”

Your house, too. Carol reached into the pocket of the pants she had on earlier, pulling out two colorful dice. She rolled them around in her hand for a second. 

“Yeah?”

She said, turning to finally face the woman sitting once again a bit too far away from her. The feeling of being a guest in her own home no longer sat in her chest. She allowed her eyes to make their way up Maria’s frame before meeting her eyes. Carol felt her hand move towards the woman, who was now looking down at one of the die in her non moving hand. Maria was almost terrified to meet her gaze, breath caught in her throat. Carol felt their hands connect, dropping the other die in her hand before closing her fingers around Maria’s. The woman next to her squeezed tight, almost too tight even for the superhero. 

Maria finally met Carol’s eyes with her own, finally releasing her breath, allowing her chest to move. 

“Yeah.” 

She said softly, almost too soft to hear but just enough for Carol. They both looked like they might burst into tears, both of them having to break eye contact but refusing to release each other from their grip. Third time, Maria counted in her blurring mind. She suddenly felt like all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Carol’s breath. They were close again, it was all she needed. She needed to feel Carol’s skin, know she was real. Know she wouldn’t let go.

Carol struggling against her own breath, finally let the desperation sitting inside of her take control. 

“What’re we doing, ‘Ri?”

She asked, in almost a whisper. She heard Maria’s breath get choked in her throat, just like she had earlier in the kitchen with Monica. She was still worried that she might have pushed too far too fast, but she needed something. Anything Maria could give her. An answer, a rejection, anything. She couldn’t sit still in the stifled confusion much longer, she feared she might actually implode. She waited, listening to Maria’s breathing. In and out, in and out. Like she was trying to quietly catch her breath. She heard her heart beat, it matched her own. Like they could beat out of their chests and find the other heart. Like they needed to be pressed together. So, Carol did just that. Finally listening to what her body was telling her. Hoping it wouldn’t be the wrong thing.

Just as Maria tried to whisper I don’t know, she let go of Maria’s hand and pulled her in, chest to chest, nestling her face in Maria’s shoulder. Maria whimpered, almost in shock. It took her almost 10 seconds to return the embrace, finally crushing into Carol the way she needed to. She knelt her face in the warmth of Carol’s neck, creating a tsunami in Carol from the graze of her lips against the side of her neck alone. They made themselves impossibly close, quieting the sounds of the world and honing in on each other’s heart beats. They took in each other’s scent, filling their lungs with the air surrounding each other. They let their hair tickle each other, finding comfort in the familiar feeling of Blackness around them. They rocked into each other to a rhythm that was so natural it almost felt like part of breathing. Finally, Maria let it drop.

A single tear rolled down Carol’s shoulder, sliding down as far as it could carry itself. Maria choked back what was sure to be her own tsunami.

“Mar-”

“I miss you. -- I miss you I m-iss you I miss you.”

She whispered with a drawn out sob. It was so quiet, it felt tragic to them both. 

Carol was silent, letting the woman release whatever she was ready to, feeling her chest heave with the impatience to relieve itself from the pent up emotions. She felt the woman in her arms shake softly, trying to fight back anything she convinced herself was a weakness. She had things to do, a person to be, a child to raise. She couldn’t let the grief get her again. But it was always there, maybe even more now in some ways. She hadn’t let this happen in so long, and the weight of pretending had pushed her to the edge of herself. She was the strongest woman in the world, and it was because she was soft. 

Carol struggled against her own tears, trying not to let them come so that she wouldn’t center her own pain in the moment. They were both too similar for their own good. She listened to Maria’s body pull the words up her throat and out her mouth, betraying her as they saved her from the pit she kept forcing herself into.

“I miss you ss-so much.” She repeated several times over. Like it was the only language she spoke. Eventually, she stopped, letting her fingers relax from gripping into Carol’s skin as tight as she could. She leaned into Carol more, feeling the weight of her body’s exhaustion mix with that of her mind. Carol let her, holding her firm but gentle. She lifted the woman up just as effortlessly as she did Monica, and carried her to her side of the bed, never moving her face from her shoulder. She laid her and herself down, sliding easily over top of her until she was on her side, careful not to put any weight on Maria’s body. She pulled the cover over them, that being the only time her hand left Maria’s body. She cradled the soft woman, giving her all of herself. She rocked her gently, counting her heart beats. 

As Maria’s breath finally got slower and deeper, she knew she would be asleep soon. Maria didn’t want to sleep but she needed it. Carol needed it to. They stuck to each other like glue, once again paying no mind to the heat stuck between them. Carol whispered back, finally.

“I miss you too.”

She felt Maria squeeze her tighter, then release and finally relax her body all the way. 

No more sniffles, no more sounds, just the weightless feeling of being together. It was easy again, for the moment. Carol rubbed her thumb lightly over Maria’s back, comforting them both enough to rest. She let the thoughts she had been fighting release from the walls of her mind, daring to look at them. She thought about the night in the lake, laying in the sand. She thought about the night before she left for a new base, with no idea when they’d be together again. She thought about the first time she came home, the gentle uncertainty between them melting away like it always did - no matter how much still needed to be figured out. She wasn’t sure how much progress had been made, but she knew that this is where she needed to be. As she finally let herself drift off to sleep, knowing that Maria was alright enough now, she knew she wouldn’t dream. She released herself to the peace of belonging, only to be startled one more time.

“Don’t you even think about leaving until you finish that car.” 

Maria commanded, even in her softest state. Carol smiled, feeling even more in place now.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[veliseraptor]

@mayedays replied to your post “Sometimes I get immensely sad that you're not in...”:

What do you see as the other options? Bc the alternatives to defanging or death that I can see are (1) the author subjecting the antagonist to serious suffering/punishment (up to and including 'fate worse than death') to appease readers' sense of justice or (2) the fandom becoming so much more toxic towards the character (and their fans) bc of rage that justice (read: punishment) "wasn't served". (And I hate those options too! This feels like a no-win situation!)

​I feel like you are talking about something a little different than I am, first of all, in that you seem to be talking about the canon fate of characters in-universe whereas I was specifically (in this post) talking about the way characters get written in fandom. But since I'm here and this does feel relevant to my interests, I'll take it!

Firstly, I don't think that avoiding a storytelling choice because "readers/fans will react poorly" is...a good way to do writing. An understandable way in this day and age, certainly! But I also think it's generative of...well, you know how people talk about the phenomenon of media being bleached of its color for the sake of not offending potential advertisers? That's what I see happening as a result of this kind of implied emotional terrorism, or fear of emotional terrorism on the part of writers.

Like I said, I think it's understandable to be scared of how people are going to react to something you write, whether that is for your own sake or the sake of a hypothetical reader - it's human to want to avoid unpleasant experiences. But I think caving to that fear, or accepting that as a stifling force on the creative decisions a writer feels at liberty to make, is neither desirable nor inevitable.

Secondly - it is relevant that I was talking about fandom here, because in a canon setting the antagonist is probably going, in some form, to have to lose. But if I'm engaging with this purely on the personal level of "how do I like to see writers handle their antagonists," there is a wide variety of ways for a narrative to treat its antagonists with grace. Even if an antagonist dies horribly, that doesn't necessarily mean that it's a narrative decision that I by nature have a problem with. (I have discussed before the internal conflict for me between 'but I want this character to live :(' vs. 'it makes for a better narrative if they die', including with several of my own original projects.) But the way that defeat or death is handled can make a world of difference in my (personal) response to a text.

I have read books where it feels like the aim of the text is specifically punitive: it wants to punish the bad character, it wants to make them suffer, it wants to illustrate that they deserve it. I tend to not enjoy that. It's not the only way to write an antagonist's defeat, and not even the only way to write an antagonist's death. It feels miles better to me, as someone who tends to get invested in antagonists, to read a text that doesn't come with a punitive mindset baked in. (Punitive texts aren't inherently bad, they just tend to not be for me.)

But that isn't the only way to write a conclusion, and there are ways of hurting or even killing an antagonist that don't have to feel like the goal of the narrative is specifically to punish them. (I wrote a whole essay about an example of this! There were footnotes and everything.)

But I think the bigger thing here, that is perhaps just a distinction between the way I approach this question and the way you seem to be, is that the question you're asking is predicated on the understanding that the question of "how a text handles its villain" is a matter of how readers/fans will react to a text, and that is a major determining factor in how a story should be told. I just fundamentally disagree with that, and I think a story that is written under those premises is going to suffer.

[desudog-gone]

do you mind me asking why your blog says people who are anti proship won't like you? /gen

[Read the whole post if you read any of it, not @ the asker just @ everyone who cares abt this discourse. Bc I think all of it is important for the understanding.]

I don't believe in censorship of fiction basically.

[Long ramble under cut. Not aimed at u entirely, moreso so I can make this a FAQ response later]

Tldr: I have a very grey stance on an issue treated black and white, but I share more in common with proshippers than antis.

(I say both words with a bit of a rolled eye.)

(Essentally I'm anti-censorship and belive in the block button. Antis disagree with me, and while I am critical of some points some proshippers have, I agree with most points of proshippers/align with multiple of their beliefs, so if you hate them, chances are you'll hate me. Any discourser based on "person whos defined by hatred" is gonna dislike me, chances are.)

Because I read/play a lot of yaoi VN a lot of the stuff I like is also also often in line to be considered "irredeemable media"

Etc.

I bring a "if you don't like something, close the tab or block the artist." Vibe to the blog space that a lot of antis don't appreciate.

I used to consider myself an anti because I was forced to by an old friend group and the time I spent in the community was actually downright traumatizing and even if you're a picture perfect enforcer of harassment, people would treat u like shit.

I was just done with being treated with suspicion all the time, with being told openly by people I was "for now", knowing that I was walking a tight rope, and if I acted in a way they didn't like, if I engaged with a media they had even a sliver of reason to dislike, they'd throw me to the wolves.

I understand their talking points and when I actually sat around to think about it I realized how stupid everything I parroted was.

If you hate proshippers, you'll hate me, because I'm a firm believer in people being able to write whatever. I'm a firm believer that fiction shouldn't be censored but it should be accurately tagged/warned/otherwise disclaimered for if it contains commonly triggering content. Like how things work in the real world.

I was also always frustrated with the double standard of so many "antis". Once again, I know this issue FROM THE INSIDE. It's absolutely encouraged to be done as well. The idea that "the thing I like gets an excuse because I like it... but not your thing I think is cringe, even if they have the same issues." Its unspoken but entirely true

The anti community runs entirely off the idea of assuming the worst of every person ever. They give clearance to anyone who submits to them, and as long as they vaguely say they're "critical" of the thing they like. This causes antis to assume anyone who doesn't explicitly submit to them as being NOT critical of what they read/write etc, which is just an insane thing to do to what is mostly adults.

Antis also encourage the "ticking time bomb" mindset on other people that I despise.

Antis run off the idea that someone who hasn't hurt anyone should be punished for the crime they assume the person *could* commit.

I was treated like shit for being a babyfur even when I bent over backwards to justify myself to them and suck them off.

I honestly got fucking tired of it. I noticed one day, well actually after multiple days of deep thought, just how violent it all was. How much control was demanded over me, how everyone was literally waiting in anticipation to hurt me.

These days I don't label myself.

I think the whole discourse is dumb. I think taking a SUPER nuanced discussion, with MULTIPLE opinions in it, and saying "well you can only be one side of the pole. It's black and white only you can say no to everything, or yes to everything." Is just idiotic and a poor way to handle the situation.

I also don't label myself out of spite

I don't see any reason why I should have to fit other people's boxes even if I fit their definition.

My MO at the end of the day is "don't harass people just move on." And apparently that's the proship motto. So if you dont like "blocklist the tag idgaf" than you won't like me.

I'm a babyfur. I fucking play hadaka shitsuji. I think quadruped furries in nsfw is fine. I am far from the perfect image of an "anti"

Every day I get more and more comfortable with being morally impure in fiction. & I love it. Fuck evangelical style refusal of critical thinking. I'm never going back to being that scared again.

I encourage people to be mindful of the things they write but never in a million years would i think enforcing actual censorship on fiction is a good course of action and ESPECIALLY not while an ACTUAL BOOK BAN is happening in my country.

Also in the state of any kind of nsfw etc...

My fiction is not a person, IM a person, and an adult. This doesn't mean I control the consent of every character it means I AM THE CONSENT of every character. My consent to the media I make is the only consent that is real. Everything else is fantasy.

If it was 2 people, and we roleplayed characters, we said face to face we consented, it was fantasy- fake, this would be okay, right? It's safe between two adults, it's between 2 consenting adults.

When it's one person making fiction, it's the same thing. I am the ONLY PERSON in the situation. There are fake characters doing fake actions which I all consent to.

"What if your art is used to make other ppl thing bad things are okay?"

Was not, has not, will never be the fault of the artist. Predators will always find a way. This is literally repeated from other people in the past who want to censor writing. The freedom of art is more important than the potential of someone who could use anything else to hurt someone being shut down. Even if all art deemed 'bad' was destroyed, predators would find a way. It's shifting the blame. You'd think with all the glorified murder in the world we'd have more slashers dressing up in the skin of humans or something, right?

"But anyone who wants to write about those things are clearly abusers in wait!"

Once again, the ticking timebomb approach is heartless. First of all- no it doesn't say anything about their character. TWO, so fucking what? Literally anyone in the world can be an abuser. Anyone in the world can go, "huh today I'm gonna rape someone" or something! Anyone! But until someone does something, you can't claim they're actually hurting people. Everyone has the potential to hurt someone. It's taking people in the worst faith possible, it's heartless and inhuman. Nobody is made an abuser by birth, thought crimes aren't crimes. Actions are what matters. And until someone acts? You have no reason to pretend you're a fucking time traveler or psychic who will "know" that someones an offender. The slippery slope speaks for itself.

"But writing real people doing bad t-"

Didn't say real people I said fictional characters.

"But Ao3-"

Don't use the site. Frankly don't care. I'm not big on fanfic I just think people should be allowed to write their fiction without being suppressed.

This isn't even getting started on how western the whole thing is and the issues with racism, and recent clashes with ENG fandom vs JPN fandom, etc.

[bandofchimeras]

idk there is no point to not being open about this on here bc what have I to lose. so here's another disability and personality disorder post (Also Pluto in domicile at the anaretic degree natal chart things lol.)

it's increasingly pressured as social fabric continues to tear, but more difficult to break out of this cycle of being around people who are haters and generally emotionally immature, as in don't understand that teasing and judging and criticizing and being resentful and jealous and greedy actually have a measurable negative effect on people... because now I am one of them. So they are the only people who stick with me.

Even if it's judging and criticizing for judging and criticizing. the mental habit is long and deep, and only very occasionally do I get a taste of the Light, the joy of seeing other human beings as these lovable creatures with their own inherent and interesting emotional realities that with my body I want to support and give space to wholeheartedly. To be in that core of Love. because in order to do that I have to recognize myself as one, which is like.....how? how after so long of being conditioned into learned helplessness and devaluation of myself and my experience? how, when my family can't and won't ever view my self understanding as worthy, when almost everyone I've lived with or worked with ultimately sees me as a problem, or something to eliminate,or I make them sad and disappointed? those deep cycles need INTENSIVE treatment to break and let the Self come through. I'm realizing how powerless I am on my own to do it no matter how much progress I've made, bc other people have to be part of this.

and after so long of being accustomed to mutual resentment and judgement, I am in a deep trench of hopelessness and fatalistic thinking. like it seems impossible for me to ever actually practice being a good person, which would require feeling safe and supported enough to put energy into efforts at being part of things and helping others. I feel locked into a mindset that everything will fall apart, people will neglect or abandon me and there is frankly nothing to do about it because at root, I am weird and awkward insecure and disabled and burnt out and this will always be interpreted as a choice, a moral choice, and my life is not worthy of living unless I push past all my limits and break myself on the grinder of doing what normal people "should" be able to do, or consign to a life of pity and being seen as a cautionary tale.

I frankly do not believe it will ever work to ask for what I need, or find the level of support I know is necessary to develop myself. because people will expect it back. and I cannot give the level of support I need right now. I can do what I can.

but the basic emotion is "it will never be enough." It is not possible for me to be enough. It is not possible for me to say no I cannot do that, or to say yes I do want to do that but I will need a team, I will need encouragement when I lose it, my inner resources don't exist here yet, I need to be poured into and shown how, helped to access the Source within myself, and trust it.

I have yet to be recognized as a Person. Seen, by somebody, by myself, in the way that grants you dignity and self respect.

that's the root to me where personality disorder and disability cross.

I do not feel hope that I will ever be recognized as worthy of love and existence and support because of the ways people are so deeply judgmental towards anyone who can't do what is seen as normal. and everytime someone judges another person as a weirdo or freak or suggests excluding them, it rebreaks my heart. To me it suggests there are rules I am currently following that somehow make my life worthy to them and if I slip up, I'm on the outside too, part of that extant disposable life.

Are we all living like this?

It's wretched and unbearable.

But also sometimes I'm that way too, it's possible to just dislike people or places or genuinely find someone unbearable.

BUT I STILL THINK THEY DESERVE TO LIVE AND BE SUPPORTED. I HATE THAT SOCIAL STANDING IS LINKED TO SURVIVAL.

So yeah, so long as this way of being is on the planet I root for the freaks on the outside who steal and lie and siphon away what they can get, because they are lonely or because no one is there for them, there is no one to fall back on except the abundant and harsh earth itself.

I want people, and for everyone to have people, but some of us human beings don't, and we won't, or can't ...my love life and friendships are this history of trying to befriend or love people who are deeply hurt and cannot let others be there with and for them, because if I could do that it would mean someone could do it for me. But I have given up on myself, on seeing myself as a human with needs that could be met. I don't feel I have the fortitude to keep getting my hopes up, or the self protection to fight everyone for my needs all the time. I want a normal life, and safety and protection same as anybody. But soon enough even fewer of us will have that.

We are gonna have to depend on eachother, and that scares me because it's where I'm lacking. I'd rather die than admit to people IRL what I want and need from them that I know they can't give me. I guess learning to tolerats that feeling is the next step.

Some days I'm ready to die rather than go on like this, but I'm still praying for a way out, and some hope, and the courage to keep trying.

[amazing-spiderling]

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art; 25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

17. There should be more of this type of fic/art:

So, my last two major fandoms/ships were pretty different, right? Otasune from Metal Gear Solid and Spideypool from various mixed Marvel media. The MGS fandom (when I was an active part of things) was kind of like the wild west because we'd go YEARS between games, and each installment wasn't guaranteed to have YOUR blorbos in it, so with such long droughts of canon content to go on, AUs were extremely common. Spideypool arrived at the same destination via a different route. With SO MUCH content for a popular ship, it was the weird AUs that stood out from the crowd.

These days, I'm most active in the Daredevil fandom, which is a comfortable size... but maybe its *too* comfortable. XD I just mean that there's so much (great) fic that is made up of lost moments/in between scenes and other canon compliant or "step to the left" of canon storylines that it kind of makes me wish people would get weird about it. Weirder, anyway. I know it's a fine line to straddle, and a lot of people get touchy about what writers choose to change, but I don't think my opinions about that are as set in stone as they are for other people. Besides my squicks, I read whatever is well written.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

I'll be real, I find fandom complaints to be tedious a lot of the time because a lot of them boil down to people who don't like X making a case for why X is objectively bad, and I think more people need to realize that you just don't have to like everything, sometimes it's for a different audience. So if I start reading a post or something that looks like it's going that way, I just scroll by.

I guess to that end, I'm kind of tired of people being so angry about the current comics run. It sure is making some choices, I'll give you that. But at least it's doing something different. (And I'll be honest, I've seen some specific complaints where I've thought, "you're actually wrong about this specific thing, because you've made a mistake about who is speaking in this moment bc you are seeing the page out of context" but bothering to correct people just doesn't seem worth it when people have made up their minds, y'know?)

Maybe it's because I love a fucked up AU that I'm like "Haha if two Daredevils were on a mountain and one of them went to hell would that be fucked up or what?" or maybe it's because I'm a bit jaded by reading comics for three decades that I'm of the mindset that comic runs (and canon for that matter) are like buses. ("If the one here now isn't taking you where you need to be, another will be along in a little while.") I'm personally having fun with the run and even if there's stuff I would have chosen to do differently, I can't be bothered to expend the energy outright hating something when I can use half of that to find things to like about it. Meh!