#one million explosions forever

[heatwa-ves]

AHHHGGAWWUGHHFHDFJTAGKJCJWQQAAAAASAAADAAAAAAAAAAAUDXHCJJDFKJSDJCJSDKVVJFJDYSSHHS💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

[tcotmc]

putting on Angel Olsen big time to cry my eyes out about things that feel so impossible to change

[luridparty]

chat.......ilove him so much.... HELP. WIKIHOW STOP BEING DOWN BAD. PPLEASE I MISS THE FICTIONAL MEN HELP M

[pinkseas]

girls who have all their lives struggled with worthiness and have spent a solid decade convinced that they were undeserving of love fighting desperately to be good enough to be loved in any capacity by anyone at all, constantly failing constantly being left behind, when someone they dearly care for and genuinely trust just Very Casually tells them that they are easy to love

[with-my-calamitous-love]

MY REPUTATIONS NEVER BEEN WORSE, SO

katsuki bakugou x reader

how he’d treat you in a relationship

same concept as the todoroki, kirishima, shinso, izuku, touya ver.

inspired by delicate

katsuki bakugou, who’s got a reputation. who is a harsh, abrasive asshole. who is known for his temper, and for his power. who knows that being with him isn’t for the best. who knows that anyone who wants to be with him has to like him for him.

katsuki bakugou, who almost always texts you at night. who makes your phone light up through the black, daring you talk to him. who is actually so funny and considerate, but would never let anyone know that. who will absolutely not go to sleep without texting you goodnight.

katsuki bakugou, who struggles to make promises with you. who, for once in his life, isn’t fully sure of himself. who prefers to live day by day with you. who isn’t sure if he can give you forever, but who will make you a drink and take care of you after. who slowly learns that forever is loving you day by day.

katsuki bakugou, who, though he’d never in a million years admit it, is insecure. who, behind his gruff features and anger-induced explosions, questions himself. who wonders if its okay that he bought you two concert tickets two months into your relationship, of if its chill that you’re in his head.

katsuki bakugou, who is so handsome- and he doesn’t even realize it. who wears beat up nikes and dark blue to see you. who prefers those private dates, the ones where he can love you in secret. who is a mansion with a view, with a key only you own. who loves the way your face lights up when he finally surprises you with flowers or chocolate. who thinks its dumb, but chases that high forever.

katsuki bakugou, who touches you like no one else. who knows you’re the only girl that could possibly bring him to his knees like this. who spends long nights with your hands in his hair. who wants to stay with you, and doesn’t wanna share.

katsuki bakugou, who is still an asshole despite being loving and caring. who calls you idiot, and dumbass, while he picks you up and carries you to the couch so you can cuddle. who, despite popular belief, is really sweet when he helps you study. who hides a smirk whenever he sees you succeed. who sometimes teaches you the wrong thing so you’ll come back and ask him to explain it again.

katsuki bakugou, who is made to be a caregiver. who loves cooking with you, reaching up to grab that book on the shelf you can’t reach. who insists on giving you his hoodie, because he never really gets cold. who secretly restocks your fridge for you and reminds you to eat something other than just cupped noodles. who shows he loves largely through actions.

katsuki bakugou, who loves back hugs. who always wraps his muscular arms around you whenever you’re doing anything, pressing his sweet lips just underneath your ear before whispering something to you. “i love you, idiot. move, i’ll help you with those dishes.”

katsuki bakugou, who learns that his reputation is just that- a reputation. its a perception of him, not who he really is. who wonders if you dream of him while you sleep the way he does. who pretends your his, all the damn time. who learns that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

katsuki bakugou, who you love for who he is. who is tough, and strong, and loves you delicately. who learns to promise you forever.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

An end to the climate emergency is in our grasp

On June 20, I'm keynoting the LOCUS AWARDS in OAKLAND.

The problem with good news in the real world is that it's messy. Neat happy endings are for novels, not the real world, and that goes double for the climate emergency. But even though good climate news is complicated and nuanced, that doesn't mean it shouldn't buoy our spirits and fill our hearts with hope.

The big climate news this past week is the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's clarion call about surging CO2 levels – the highest ever – amid a year that is on track to have the largest and most extreme series of weather events in human history:

https://www.noaa.gov/news-release/during-year-of-extremes-carbon-dioxide-levels-surge-faster-than-ever

This is genuinely alarming and you – like me – have probably experienced it as a kind of increase in your background radiation of climate anxiety. Perhaps you – like me – even experienced some acute, sit-bolt-upright-in-bed-at-2AM anxiety as a result. That's totally justifiable. This is very real, very bad news.

And yet…

The news isn't all bad, and even this terrible dispatch from the NOAA is best understood in context, which Bill McKibben provides in his latest newsletter post, "What You Want is an S Curve":

https://billmckibben.substack.com/p/what-you-want-is-an-s-curve

Financier and their critics should all be familiar with Stein's Law: "anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop." This is true outside of finance as well. One of the reasons that we're seeing such autophagic panic from the tech companies is that their period of explosive growth is at an end.

For years, they told themselves that they were experiencing double-digit annual growth because they were "creating value" and "innovating" but the majority of their growth was just a side-effect of the growth of the internet itself. When hundreds of millions of people get online every year, the dominant online services will, on average, gain hundreds of millions of new users.

But when you run out of people who don't have internet access, your growth is going to slow. How can it not? Indeed, at that point, the only ways to grow are to either poach users from your rivals (through the very expensive tactics of massive advertising and sales-support investments, on top of discounts and freebies as switching enticements), or to squeeze your own users for more.

That's why the number of laptops sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of cellphones sold in America slowed down. It's why the number of "smart home" gizmos slowed down.

Even the steepest hockey-stick-shaped exponential growth curve eventually levels off and becomes an S-curve, because anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop.

One way or another, the world's carbon emissions will eventually level off. Even if we drive ourselves to (or over) the brink of extinction and set up the conditions for wildfires that release all the carbon stored in all the Earth's plants, the amount of carbon we pump into the atmosphere has to level off.

Rendering the Earth incapable of sustaining human civilization (or life) is the ultimate carbon reduction method – but it's not my first choice.

That's where McKibben's latest newsletter comes in. He cites a new report from the Rocky Mountain Institute, which shows a major reversal in our energy sources, a shift that will see our energy primarily provided by renewables, with minimal dependence on fossil fuels:

https://rmi.org/insight/the-cleantech-revolution/

The RMI team says that in this year or next, we'll have hit peak demand for fossil fuels (a fact that is consistent with NOAA's finding that we're emitting more CO2 than ever). The reason for this is that so much renewable energy is about to come online, and it is so goddamned cheap, that we are about to undergo a huge shift in our energy consumption patterns.

This past decade saw a 12-fold increase in solar capacity, a 180-fold increase in battery storage, and a 100-fold increase in EV sales. China is leading the world in a cleantech transition, with the EU in close second. Cleantech is surging in places where energy demand is also still growing, like India and Vietnam. Fossil fuel use has already peaked in Thailand, South Africa and every country in Latin America.

We're on the verge of solar constituting an absolute majority of all the world's energy generation. This year, batteries will overtake pumped hydro for energy storage. Every cleantech metric is growing the way that fossil fuels did in previous centuries: investment, patents, energy density, wind turbine rotor size. The price of solar is on track to halve (again) in the next decade.

In short, cleantech growth looks like the growth of other technologies that were once rarities and then became ubiquitous overnight: TV, cellphones, etc. That growth isn't merely being driven by the urgency of the climate emergency: it's primarily a factor of how fucking great cleantech is:

https://rmi.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/the_incredible_inefficiency_of_fossils.pdf

Fossil fuels suck. It's not just that they wreck the planet, or that their extraction is both politically and environmentally disastrous. They just aren't a good way to make energy. About a third of fossil fuel energy is wasted in production and transportation. A third! Another third is wasted turning fossil fuels into energy. Two thirds! The net energy efficiency of fossil fuels is about 37%.

Compare that with cleantech. EVs convert electricity to movement with 80-90% efficiency. Heat pumps are 300% efficient (the main fuel for your heat pump is the heat in the atmosphere, not the electricity it draws).

Cleantech is just getting started – it's still in the hockey-stick phase. That means those efficiency numbers are only going up. Rivian just figured out how to remove 1.6 miles of copper wire from each vehicle. That's just one rev – there's doubtless lots of room for more redesigns that will further dematerialize EVs:

https://insideevs.com/news/722265/rivian-r1s-r1t-wiring/

As McKibben points out, there's been a lot of justifiable concern that electrification will eventually use up all our available copper, but copper demand has remained flat even as electrification has soared – and this is why. We keep figuring out new ways to electrify with fewer materials:

https://www.chemanalyst.com/NewsAndDeals/NewsDetails/copper-wire-price-remains-stable-amidst-surplus-supply-and-expanding-mining-25416#:~:text=Global%20Copper%20wire%20Price%20Remains%20Stable%20Amidst%20Surplus%20Supply%20and%20Expanding%20Mining%20Activities

This is exactly what happened with previous iterations of tech. The material, energy and labor budgets of cars, buildings, furniture, etc all fell precipitously every time there was a new technique for manufacturing them. Renewables are at the start of that process. There's going to be a lot of this dematerialization in cleantech. Calculating the bill of materials for a planetary energy transition isn't a matter of multiplying the materials in current tech by the amount of new systems we'll need – as we create those new systems, we will constantly whittle down their materials.

What's more, global instability drives cleantech uptake. The Russian invasion of Ukraine caused a surge in European renewables. The story that energy prices are rising due to renewables (or carbon taxes) is a total lie. Fossil fuels are getting much more expensive, thanks to both war and rampant, illegal price-fixing:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/an-oil-price-fixing-conspiracy-caused

If not for renewables, the incredible energy shocks of the recent years would be far more severe.

The renewables story is very good and it should bring you some comfort. But as McKibben points out, it's still not enough – yet. The examples of rapid tech uptake had big business on their side. America's living rooms filled with TV because America's largest businesses pulled out all the stops to convince everyone to buy a TV. By contrast, today's largest businesses – banks, oil companies and car companies – are working around the clock to stop cleantech adoption.

We're on track to double our use of renewables before the decade is over. But to hold to the (already recklessly high) targets from the Paris Accord, we need to triple our renewables usage. As McKibben says, the difference between doubling and tripling our renewables by 2030 is the difference between "survivable trouble" and something much scarier.

The US is experiencing a welcome surge in utility scale solar, but residential solar is stalling out as governments withdraw subsidies or even begin policies that actively restrict rooftop solar:

https://twitter.com/curious_founder/status/1798049929082097842?s=51

McKibben says the difference between where we are now and bringing back the push for home solar generation is the difference between "fast" and "faster" – that is the difference between tripling renewables by 2030 (survivable) and doubling (eek).

Capitalism stans who argue that we can survive the climate emergency with market tools will point to the good news on renewable and say that the market is the only way to transition to renewables. It's true that market forces are partly responsible for this fast transition. But the market is also the barrier to a faster (and thus survivable) transition. The oil companies, the banks who are so invested in fossil fuels, the petrostates who distort the world's politics – they're why we're not much farther along.

The climate emergency was never going to be neatly solved. We weren't going to get a neat novelistic climax that saw our problems sorted out in a single fell swoop. We're going to be fighting all the way to net zero, and after that, we'll still have decades of climate debt to pay down: fires, floods, habitat loss, zoonotic plagues, refugee crises.

But we should take our wins. Even if we're far from where we need to be on renewables, we're much farther along on renewables than we had any business hoping for, just a few years ago. The momentum is on our side. It's up to us to use that momentum and grow it. We're riding the hockey-stick, they're on that long, flat, static top of the S-curve. Their curve is leveling off and will start falling, ours will grow like crazy for the rest of our lives.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

[anathemaspeaks]

Fluff prompts 4 and 28 please with Bakugo 💥❤️

"you're blushing" "am not!"

"because i'm in love with you, dumbass"

check out my prompt list and request stuff <3

bakugou katsuki always gets what he wants.

but what happens when it's you that he wants?

you had been his (self-proclaimed) best friend ever since the both of you were five years old. front teeth still not fully grown, but a wide gummy grin on your face, you told him you would be best friends forever.

you had grabbed his arm and dragged him to the playground right after that, his mouth comically hanging open at how you said that, two minutes after meeting him. i mean, you were basically asking for a death sentence.

but he didn't know whether he was more shocked about your actions, or the fact that he hadn't yelled your head off yet.

then again, you had always been special to him.

you were the only one who could get him to calm down, almost instantly - a talent for which mitsuki called you her personal blessing. one hand on his shoulder, one whisper, and he was at your mercy. he was whipped before either of you even knew it.

(except mitsuki, though. she saw it coming miles away.)

bakugou has known he's loved you since the day you showed up to his house, soaked from head to toe because of the rain. why? because he said he 'wasn't feeling too good' and doesn't think he can hang out today.

god, he thought his heart would beat right out of his chest at the sight of you - he felt like he was melting. you were too sweet for your own good. you made his stoic, harsh composure mellow down into the bakugou only you ever got to see.

of course, he did yell at you for ten minutes for being "so fuckin' stupid n' reckless," but the poorly concealed smile on his face and the worry etched onto his handsome face told you enough about how he truly felt about the situation.

that was when he knew he just couldn't ignore it anymore. he loved you. more than he thought his little explosive heart was capable of. and mentally, he didn't give a shit about how you felt.

you were his girl since day one. you just didn't know it yet.

being katsuki's best friend also meant you could see he had a clear soft spot for you - one which you couldn't help but fall in love with yourself. it came with looking at his actions rather than his words, because he said a lot of words.

it was in the way he would complain about you being an idiot for not bringing a sweater, and still give you his own jacket every time it was cold, the way he would act like it was a problem to help you with your homework, but he would stay up until two in the morning just to help you - even baking for you or cooking to help you sometimes, and tucking you in when you fell asleep on your books.

(never in a million years would he admit it, but he would stare at you until he lost track of time when you would doze off. he may or may not have kissed your forehead once, too.)

it's no surprise you end up going everywhere and doing everything together - like bakugou would ever let you out of his sight. you were basically attached at the hip. for safety reasons, obviously.

that's what he told you, at least.

but how do you end up here?

you were sparring with bakugou less than a moment ago, explosions firing off into the air which crackled with fire and the smell of burnt caramel. a routine of yours for a long time now.

sweat dripping down both of your bodies, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and determination as you both sent blow after blow, short pants escaping the both of you as your muscles strained with every movement, fighting to defeat the other.

and then you trip on nothing, comically waving your hands in the air as you fall down and bring katsuki down with you, landing oh so gracefully on top of him with a loud thud, and a surprised grunt from him.

you stay in that position for a moment to get your bearings, before propping yourself up on your hands to see if he was okay. totally not to check out his muscles in the compression shirt he chose to wear today, and the adorable little grumpy pout on his face.

but you might've ended up looking too long, because-

"oi, 's there somthin' on my face, shitty woman?" he grumbled, averting his gaze from yours, strong arms still wrapped around you.

but you couldn't help it. you'd seen him from up close before, but never in a position like this. it made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, being able to look at all his breathtaking features from so near. with you on top of him, nonetheless.

the implications had your heart racing.

"i asked you a question, dumbass" he repeated as his eyes looked at you again, his crimson gaze scrutinizing you as his nose adorably scrunched up a bit in annoyance at your unrelenting stare. oh, shit.

"sorry!" you squeaked. you didn't mean to get caught staring so blatantly. your whole body felt like it was on fire with the physical contact you had with him. and he caught you.

"you're blushing" he stated.

but it made his heart beat a little faster, knowing he had that effect on you just as you did on him. you looked cute, very cute this way. but would you ever let him know he was making you feel that way? hell no. he was cocky enough already.

"am not!" you huffed, squirming to get off him-

but oh. he had his strong arms around your waist, effectively trapping you between them. it was now or never, bakugou was a no nonsense guy, and he was determined to get you to admit your feelings now that he knew he could make you so flustered. so easily too. it was almost embarrassing if he didn't adore the look on your face right now.

he tightened his hold on you, just to see how you'd react. not because he liked the way your body felt so warm against his. not because he thought he could hold you like this forever if you would let him. and definitely not because he loved looking at you from this close.

you let out a surprised squeal at the feeling, and before you knew it, you were red all to the tips of your ears. damn him, you thought. but all you could think about was how comfortable you felt, the familiar scent of burnt caramel invading your senses as it has so many times before.

"then why'd ya jus' start blushin' even more?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, knowing he's got you now.

"oh, 's it cause of the heat? cause i beat your ass during training? or maybe its c-"

"it's because i'm in love with you, dumbass!" you put a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. he let out a shit-eating grin, knowing he'd won. and god, he's never wanted to kiss you as much as he did right now, finally knowing you feel the same way.

"you want to- what? you feel the same way?"

shit. he said that out loud?

but before he could say anything, your lips touched his, a wide grin on your face, making his mind go blank. and they molded so perfectly against his own. they felt so soft and full, he was sure you'd get him addicted. like you both were made for each other.

and he was sure you were, because bakugou katsuki does always gets what he wants, after all.

[d33pd3sire-blog]

The Air That I Breathe

Idk how to write reader fanfics without a million 'you' words so you're just gonna have to ignore that haha.

Emily Prentiss x F!Reader

Summary: You get caught following an unsub. You believe you are going to die so you make a confession to Reid.

Might make this a two or three parter, depending on if it’s what the people want haha.

TW: Fire, explosions, smoke, coughing, suffocation.

Word count: 1321

Any constructive criticism is welcomed! Be kind about it tho lol.

The team had to split up. There were two abandoned buildings in the area which suited the unsubs needs and you, Prentiss, Morgan and Reid were on your way to one of them. Hotch, Rossi, Tara and JJ were on their way to the other. As you were pulling up to the building, the unsub could be seen on the roof, a child in his arms and a gun pointed to their head. 'I wondered when id be seeing you!' He exclaimed. Prentiss unholstered her gun and pointed up at him. 'Let her go! We can sort this out without getting her involved.' Emily called, trying to find a way in. 'No. You know what, I think ill have some fun with her first.' The unsub walked away, his haunting laugh echoing through the carpark.

Morgan and Reid's SUV pulls up, both of them jumping out immediately. 'Whats going on?' Morgan looked to both of you with worry. 'The unsub has a child hostage, we need to get in there.' You respond. The anxiety in your voice does not go unnoticed, Morgan replies, 'Its gonna be okay, you call Hotch and tell him to make their way here. Ill call Penelope, see if she can find out how many exits there are on the floor plan.' You nod, pulling out your phone.

As soon as you finish filling in Hotch, Morgan comes back with a plan. 'Right guys, there are two exits. One to the left, and one to the right. Prentiss and I will take the left, you guys take the right. Remember to stick together. The others should be here soon to help.' You turn to Reid, giving him a 'we can do this' look. He returns it, unholstering his gun and turning towards the double doors. 'Come on, i'll head in first. You cover me.' You turn back to look at Emily, her dark ponytail swishing as she walks. 'Please be okay', you think. You don't know what you would do if she got hurt. Same goes for Morgan of course, but he's not the one you've been in love with since you joined the BAU. You shook your head, getting ready for what you might face and follow Reid into the building.

The both of you are silent, the only noise filling up the space is the sound of your footsteps. The corridor seems to go on forever, twisting and turning like a- BOOM. You and Reid are thrusted back, both of you knocked into a daze, confusion waving over both of you. A few seconds later your eyes open. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, as if you're not fully in your body. The ringing in your ears seems to be the only thing keeping you lucid. You slowly blink your eyes, realising Reid is standing over you mouthing something. As everything finally catches up to you, you take a sharp inhale. You can tell Reid is relieved by this by his facial expressions. A few seconds go by and the ringing starts to subside, you can finally hear Reid repeat 'you're okay, you're okay, its going to be okay.''

'What happened?' you mutter, slowly pushing yourself up onto your feet. 'An explosion. I believe the unsub set us up. He has a past with arson, we should have seen it coming.' Reid rambled, you can tell he hasn't quite come to terms with it either. 'Lets get back to the doors, can you walk?' you ask. He nods, wrapping his arm in yours incase either of you lose balance. As youre both stumbling towards the exit, you both notice smoke starting to fill the space around you. You both look at each other with fear, knowing the dangers of smoke inhalation. As you reach the doors, you both push the the handle down. Nothing. you try again. And again. And again. Your breath starting to quicken, the smoke building up, making it more and more difficult to breath. 'Reid?' You spoke. He can hear the fear in your voice, he feels it too. 'I know.'

After a few minutes of desperate attempts to open the door, you both give up. 'If we can't get out this way, lets go deeper.' Reid sputters. 'Are you insane??' The idea just spoken, had you standing in disbelief. 'Are you mad Reid?' 'No! I mean, maybe. The smoke inhalation can't be doing good things to my brain.' He jokes. 'But seriously, what if we find a window? We could smash it and get out. Here we're just sitting ducks waiting for the smoke to take over.' The idea plays in your mind for a few seconds as you turn back to the door. He's right. We can't just stand here waiting for people who may never come. Emily and Derek could be dead for all we know. Hotch and the others could take too long to get to us and we'd have suffocated. You turn to Reid and give him a reluctant nod. He takes you in his arms, guiding you to the floor. 'We have to stay low, smoke rises.' He coughs, you must admit the air is far easier to breath down here. You both slowly shuffle farther and farther down into the building.

A few minutes in and both of you are coughing regularly, neither of you mentioning the possibilities of what we could or could not find. We both start to feel the corridor get warmer and warmer as we approach a room on the right. We both stand, our hearts in our throat as we hope for a way out. As soon as we look in, our hope is crushed. Flames envelope the room, almost impossible to see anything in there. the heat and smoke hitting our faces, causing us to cough. Reid grabs your arm and we start to run past it. Maybe there's another room further down.

You both quickly approach a set of double doors, both of you holding your breath until you reach the doors. The sound of Reid pushing on the bar to open it and. Locked. Shit. 'No no no NO NO.' Reid yells, using all of his body weight to kick, punch, push the door down. A laugh starts to echo through the passage. Reid turns to look at you, out of breath. 'Whats so funny?' You then realise the laughing is coming from you. Why are you laughing? You force yourself to stop, the seriousness settling in your stomach. Shit. You both stand in silence for a moment. 'Shall we try heading back? Maybe Hotch is here now.' Reids head is in hands, he's trying to soothe himself. 'Reid.' He looks up, and nods at you. You take his hand, ready to walk back when a loud bang is heard down the hall. Followed by bright flames, both of you could feel the heat radiating from it. Tears start to flow down your face as all hope drains from you both. You both fall back onto the double doors, sitting on the floor. The idea of both of you dying now becomes a reality. We are going to die. You sigh and put your head onto your legs. 'I love her' you scoff out. 'Love who?' Reid asks. 'Emily. Always have.' Tears continue to flow. Reid pauses for a moment. 'It all makes sense now. You light up around her. I just thought.. I don't know what I thought but it makes sense.' Reid pulls you into him, both of you leaning on each other. 'Its ironic isn't it?' You say. 'Hmm?' He mumbles. 'Im gasping for air yet its Emily I want most. She's the air that I breath, I can't live without her.' You close your eyes as Reid puts his arm over you. The next few minutes you both spend thinking of those you love, while sinking deeper and deeper into darkness.

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I mean, I think it'd be ENTIRELY in character for Galen to create some kind of mechanism that destroyed the Death Star the moment it fired. When he makes the canonical weak point, it's something that can only be destroyed by basically shooting it and the entire station is going to blow up as a result. He sends it to Saw and the rebellion, knowing that this means the people on the station won't have a chance to evacuate before the explosion kills them. He knows what it means, and he has to make that choice anyway because eliminating the Death Star is too important not to. He obviously doesn't LIKE getting people killed, even if they work for the Empire, we see that when he reveals his deception to Krennic in order to try to save the other scientists on Eadu and his pained reaction when Krennic kills them anyway.

And this works within the whole theme that Rogue One (and later Andor) are sending, that sometimes doing the right thing might mean doing something that goes against your morals. Sometimes it means dirtying your hands. Doing the moral thing and doing the right thing aren't always the same. And it sucks, of course it sucks, but the choices are pretty minimal. Either Galen finds a way to destroy the Death Star despite the fact that this will kill thousands (I think there might actually be a million people on the Death Star), or he does nothing and the Death Star goes around blowing up planets which likely is going to mean the deaths of BILLIONS and keep the Empire in power potentially forever which means the deaths of even more people and the oppression of an entire galaxy of TRILLIONS of people.

The Rebellion isn't against violence, they're not against killing people for their cause, they just try to keep it to a minimum and use it as a last resort when there are absolutely no other options and the consequences of NOT using violence or killing someone means many more people die instead. This is the exact same choice that the Prequels Jedi were faced with during the Clone War. Is it an ideal choice? No. But they're up against the Sith and other people who are more than happy to reign terror across the galaxy with slavery and bio weapons and corruption, so is it worse to fight in the war or is it worse to sit on their moral high horse and do nothing and let the Separatists win?

And that's the whole point. Sometimes there's no perfect answer. You just have to do the best you can with the options available to you and be willing to make the hard choices in order to help the most people possible.

[tswwwit]

Lol omg at your last ask because imagine dippers under some truth spell and ends up spilling a bunch of secrets that Bill already knew and had stashed to use for later

This is no longer 'last ask' relevant because I had this partially written in my drafts for like a million years - but a Truth spell on Dipper would be very interesting!

So I took this prompt and didn't really answer it except in some ways.

Here's a thing!

“You never bring me any souvenirs.” Bill complains. In an all-too-whiny tone, and an all-too-close lean into Dipper's personal space.

Plus, it's a blatant lie. One Dipper shouldn't respond to. 

He does anyway. “I literally brought you harpy feathers last week.” 

“Doesn’t count! That was for a ritual you wanted to pull off!” Bill sounds miffed, though he also plants a palm on Dipper’s head and starts ruffling hair. “Now where's the emerald from last March? Or like, the headdress from that cult with all the rabbit bones? The good stuff."

Dipper grunts. He focuses on navigating back out of the cave, turning the clay tablet over in his hands.

Figures Bill would remember all the times he did get something. His memory is excellent. And he’s greedy, because a new toy every time is a big ask. 

What does Bill expect, anyway. Not every situation Dipper gets into has something to bring back. What could he even offer? An ear taken off every monster he has to fight?

Wait, no. Bill would love that.

Dipper makes a face. “You've just proved that it's not ‘never’. With examples." 

"Sure, but when’s the last time it was cool?” 

Dipper sighs. No point in arguing. Bill could go on forever about how 'unfair' it is that he doesn't get trophies from every trip, or trinkets from conquered lands, or, again, ears from every enemy. When he’s decided to complain, no reasonable argument will shake him out of it.

“Too bad, then. You’re only getting some gifts.” Dipper shakes his head rapidly to dislodge Bill’s hand from his hair. "It’s hardly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you."

“Hey! I could argue that it’s related! In fact -”

Dipper tunes out the rest of Bill’s ramble, rolling his eyes. Listening with half an ear to Bill's ongoing tirade about being a poorly kept man, and unappreciated in his time. 

Despite how much he already has, Bill always wants more. Somehow he sniffed out Dipper’s latest excursion, showing up right at the end and looking for ‘loot’.

Which Dipper, by all rights, should prevent. 

 Anything magical falling into Bill's hands can cause chaos, no matter how innocuous it seems. The flower incident alone is reason not to hand Bill anything, ever, and the fact that Dipper still does sometimes should be appreciated, damn it.

Bill's complaining on and on, but whatever. Eventually he'll get bored.

 In the meantime, Dipper turns the clay tablet around again with a frown. He found something interesting, at least.

Whatever this is, it’s definitely not a language he recognizes. The script is strange, scrawled in different directions. For all he knows he’s holding it upside down. He hopes Bill doesn’t notice until he’s figured out - 

"Whatcha got there?" Just as expected - and right on time. 

Dipper feels the tablet yanked out of his grasp, unfazed. He doesn't break his stride.

"I found it in the lair, after... you know." Charred bones, explosions - Dipper wishes he could use, like water, or something, but mastery over even one element is powerful as is. "Anyway, that monster was collecting a lot of weird magic stuff, and this was the only interesting thing it had." He shrugs. Then, because Bill will like it, adds, "So... to the victor go the spoils?"

“Now that’s the spirit!” Bill gives him a grin, holding the tablet up to squint at it. Thankfully not turning it around. One point for Dipper, on not looking incompetent.

Still, if anyone can read it…

“What language is this?” Dipper not-so-subtly leans over, trying to peek around Bill’s arm.

"Old Draconic," Bill says, without missing a beat. Humming to himself as he apparently reads the text. Perking up a bit, smile widening. "Oh, hey! Iambic pentameter."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing, sapling. I just wish when people did the whole 'ancient poetry curse' thing, they'd get a little more creative. You never see hexameter! Or tetrameter! Not even a tasteful use of spondee.” Bill sticks his tongue out.  "Come to think of it - I don’t think anyone’s done a prose epic that made the reader wanna tear their eyes out since Joyce."

Sometimes with Bill, you have to read between the lines. The long, irrelevant babbling lines.

"Just tell me if I need to get Ford or not." Dipper says, flat. He rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

Among all the other stuff, Bill said ‘curse’. Never, ever a good sign.

Though the monster he just took down wasn’t a dragon, and that wasn’t really a ‘horde’ so much as something resembling the contents of the Mystery Shack, there’s absolutely no good thing about a curse. If Dipper somehow triggered it - 

Great. As if hanging around Bill alone didn’t invite enough bad fortune, he’s picking up parts of his own stupid curiosity.

"Nah, don’t bother with the loser uncle!" Bill waves his concern away, amused. “This is just purple prose! Buncha  ‘oooh, bad things’ll happen if you mess with my stuff.’ Totally boilerplate spellcraft with some flowery wording.” 

With a shrug, Bill dismisses the whole thing. Which includes chucking the tablet over his shoulder, but Dipper manages to snag it before it falls and shatters into a million pieces.

“Typical dragon horde enchantment. All bluster, no burning.” Bill keeps walking without a care in the world. “They’re full of hot air!”

“So I’m not cursed,” Dipper prompts, catching up to him. “Aside from you, I mean.”

“Flatterer,” Bill says, slightly warmer. He continues, shrugging. “No reason you would be! No dragons in the area, and the warning sign there’s too old. By my guess, the original horde was raided centuries ago! Just another piece of random crap that got dragged into that junkyard." And he ruffles Dipper’s hair again, in the second-most annoying way. "You’re stuck with me, though.”

Dipper ducks and twists, thus freeing himself from the minor torment. “I think I can live with that.”

One would think that chatting with a demon - one as cryptic and ominous and aggravating as Bill - would only cause irritation, at best. 

It still does, of course. But when it comes to Dipper, Bill… sometimes lays things out straight. On occasion. Especially when he’s instructing, doubly when it comes to magic. Like he’s trying to pour all the facts he can into Dipper’s brain, overfilling the cup.

If his goal is to overload this one mortal mind, though, he'll have to work a lot harder. 

Dipper gets out his notebook, while Bill looks away, and pretends he didn’t see it. Yet another poorly-veiled lesson, with Bill obviously trying to plant seeds re: actually casting curses. Tough luck managing that. His subtle lean towards chaos might escape the unwary, but to Dipper? Bill’s way too transparent.

The fact is, that Dipper absorbs things fast. Even Bill will admit it, sometimes without being prompted. 

That Includes stuff Bill doesn't even know he's teaching.

Bill’s also rambling on about historical curses, and how often these things backfire, or misfire. It’d almost sound like a series of unconnected, gossipy anecdotes, if it weren’t for the extra technical details. 

And Dipper’s not falling for it. As far as he's concerned, his first curse was his last one.

But then…

Even if he’s not going to use the knowledge, there's no reason not to learn it. Knowledge about making curses can also be used to break them, after all. Taking all the facts Bill smacked a ‘For Evil Purposes Only’ sticker on and using them to shatter an evil plan would be very satisfying.

They’re nearly out of the cave at this point, so Dipper figures it’s fine to let his guard down a bit. The monster's dead, all the traps were cleared out on the way in - everything should be fine.

He clicks his pen a couple times, and asks Bill to repeat that last thing, about the life drain. It gets a snort of amusement, but Bill’s more than happy to elaborate at length. Dipper struggles to keep up with Bill’s rapid-fire speech; he's trying to make this intentionally difficult, damn it.

Bill leads on with careless gestures and an uninterrupted stride. Getting ahead of Dipper by several meters, but Dipper’s got to note down what he says before he has to do something awful, like ask Bill to repeat himself.

Dipper is, in fact, so busy trying to write in shorthand, and walk, and not hit a stalactite with his face, all at the same time, that he sort of loses track of where he is.

And okay, maybe he trips over a rock slightly, and nearly faceplants, bonking against the sudden curve of a wall with a swear.

Dipper takes a step back, rubbing at his forehead. Annoying, but, whatever. There were a few traps around, but he pretty much cleared out the cave on the way in, so it’s probably - oh, hell.

Not fine, he dropped the stupid tablet.

Great. The only really interesting object, shattered into half a dozen pieces. So much from saving it from Bill; Dipper himself fumbled the bag.

He backs up to evaluate the damage -

The stone sinks under his foot, and something goes ‘click’.

With a start, Dipper raises a shield without thinking, arm jerking up as he wills his magic into the gesture. It's solid enough for something done on reflex, but an impact hits hard on his side, with sudden, stinging pain. 

And a pretty hard impact, at that. He didn’t get it solid enough, damn it, wasn’t expecting something physical -  

Dipper wheezes out a breath, slumping to the ground and clutching his stomach. 

Alright. So. He got most of the traps. 

He sits down, and lets his head thump back against the stone, teeth bared in a grimace. Stupid. Should have been paying attention. 

The commotion makes Bill turn his head, blinking at Dipper sitting on the ground. 

Then -  because he’s an asshole - he starts laughing. 

“I know I’m fascinating, sapling, but really?” He tuts, setting fists on his hips. “Not sure if I should be flattered that you’re obsessed with me, or disappointed that you’re dumb enough to walk right into a wall.”

Dipper sucks in a breath, gingerly touching his side. Doesn’t seem like - he glances down. Sure, it stings, and his shirt’s torn, a long, shallow cut on his stomach, just near the old scar. But that’s about it. Over to his side, an arrow rolls against the ground, stone head clicking against the ground.

Over by the cave mouth, Bill’s cackling. God, he’s a jerk sometimes. 

But he must not have seen the trap set off, too wrapped up in his own stupid bullshit, or he’d be less of one. Dipper knows that for a fact. Though he’d really, really prefer he’d never had that experience. 

“C’mon, kid. If you’re not even more brain damaged from your bump, let’s ditch this joint.” Bill jerks his head over his shoulder. 

Dipper hugs himself around the torso, grimacing. Not bothering to respond. His heart is still pounding, or he’d have a retort ready. Adrenaline’s helped him out in a lot of situations, but not with talking. He’ll get up when he’s ready.

“What, you smash your skull open or something?” Bill raises one arch eyebrow. 

Though Dipper knows why Bill’s like this, it’s still deeply annoying. He shakes his head in lieu of a reply. In a second, he’ll be calm enough to tell Bill exactly what he thinks of his incredibly poor bedside - and cave-side - manner. 

“Figures. Can’t leave you alone for five minutes without your guts spilling everywhere.” Bill clicks his tongue, folding his arms and stepping forward. “What’s the damage?”

“It hurts.” Dipper says, through gritted teeth. Then pauses. Wait, he meant to say - He shakes his head rapidly, only for more words to force themselves out, unbidden. “I got cut again.”

Again, not what he intended. Dipper lowers his chin, teeth clenched. What the hell, he shouldn’t have said that. Bill’s mocking aside, maybe he did hit his head a little too hard. Once Bill gets the mockery out of his system, he’s going to be a total pest about it, too.

With a huff, Dipper slumps. Settling in for a sulk, waiting for the next jab - But there’s no insult forthcoming. Or argument. 

In fact, Bill’s gone totally silent. Which is super weird. 

Dipper looks up at the cave entrance, expecting a comment or a question, or at least a huge grin. He tenses up, hunching over.

And meets a frozen, unsmiling face. 

Bill dropped his arms, they hang limp by his sides. His expression’s gone blank.

The next moment, he’s right in front of Dipper, kneeling and tugging at his arms with alarming urgency. 

“Alright, lemme see.” Bill’s face is very close. Though he’s trying to pull his arms away, Dipper resists out of sheer surprise. Bill growls, eye darting around until it lands on the arrow. “Oh for - Really can’t leave you alone for five minutes. Move.” 

Another pull, less hard this time. Like he’s trying to ease Dipper’s arms away.

“Wh- Hey!” Dipper plants a foot against Bill’s chest, but that hardly stops anything. He raises his arms. Holding them up, in fact, like he’s at gunpoint. Where’d this come from. “Don’t get upset, I’m fine.”

“Ha! Good one, sapling. Who’s upset, exactly?” Bill says, teeth bared, and in a deeply upset way. He tugs Dipper’s shirt, up, fingers tracing the cut before pressing into his stomach. “I’m just wondering if I need a replacement mortal this soon into your miserable existence. No big deal!”

Okay, this is too much. 

Dipper struggles up, despite Bill trying to shove him down again. Bracing himself on the cave wall, and glaring. “Calm down already.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Bill says, through gritted teeth. At best he looks miffed, but he’s at least stopped trying to make Dipper lie down in the recovery position or whatever. With a glare, he tugs up Dipper’s shirt, prodding at the shallow cut. “What the hell, kid. I thought you said it hurt!”

“Ow.” Dipper’s stomach jumps at another poke. He smacks Bill’s hand away. “It does, alright? Quit poking.”

Bill doesn’t seem impressed. His fingers trail over the larger, older scar on Dipper’s left side, then glares at Dipper’s stomach like it’s insulted him. A beat, then - “You don’t usually complain.”

“I-” Okay, true. Dipper glares anyway. “Shut up.” 

He doesn’t complain because it’s the only option. For all that Bill whines and teases and taunts Dipper, all the time, about being some ‘fragile mortal meatsack’, already rotting before his eyes, he really doesn’t like it when it’s brought forcefully to his attention. 

God, he shouldn't have said anything. Ninety-five percent of the time, there isn’t any harm to mention. But when Dipper does ends up showing he is kind of… mortal, and it’s small, he just. Doesn’t bring it up. For all that they bicker all the time, he doesn’t like to make Bill upset.

Bill grunts, mouth turned down at the corners. He stands up quickly, folding his arms. His lip curls up in a sneer. “If you wanted attention, kid, there are way better ways to-”

Oh, fuck that. Dipper flips him off, and starts storming off. 

God, this is stupid. Whenever Dipper ever breaks a bone or something, he gets teased about being so weak and vulnerable. Which he is, but neither of them like the reminder. 

These days, it also comes with some weirdly maybe-sincere ‘kiss it better’ thing that Dipper then has to disinfect. A lot of hovering, and rambling commentary. Sometimes creative descriptions of how much worse it could have been, and Dipper never needed those, at any time. Bill gets oddly fixated on such random little moments, and it’s just -

Dipper doesn’t like it, is all. Bill gets the way he gets, it’s a lot, and it’s easier just to avoid it. If he were a different guy - a human guy, or even mostly-human monster- Dipper might try to talk to him about it.

But Bill’s a demon. Not normal, barely sane even on his best days, and worse, he’s Bill, so. That conversation would go precisely nowhere.

Behind him, he hears said demon approaching, fast. Stupid jerk. He should be as tall as his real form. That’d be fair. More accurate, too, and then Dipper could properly stomp off without Bill catching up so easily.

Already the bastard is by Dipper’s side. A tall, irritating presence. Hovering close without grabbing on, which adds to said irritation. 

Dipper leans away, but Bill catches him around the waist and drags him in.

“Don’t get so grumpy, sapling, you’re fine! A little nick in the outer layer rarely killed anyone since they invented antibiotics.” Though he pinches Dipper’s cheek, he yanks his head away with a grunt. Bill sighs. “Everything’s a-okay here! Looks like I don't have to find a replacement just yet.”

Bill’s an idiot. Dipper scoffs, though an unpleasant feeling crawls in his gut. “Oh yeah? Who would you replace me with?”

“Eh, not like I got anyone specific in mind.” Bill waves that off, nonchalant. “But I have options! Lots of options.” He bumps a hip against Dipper. “Keep that in mind before you go charging off into obvious traps.”

This goddamn liar. Dipper  elbows him in the side, because the asshole deserves it. 

Not that Dipper’s worried, or anything. From what little he’s heard of Bill’s exes in the demonic rumor mill - Bill’s been, as they say, less than successful. Already Dipper’s outstripped his longest by years.. Bill can lie day in and day out about his options, put on a brave face - but they both know he’s not going to find this again. Not easily. 

“Good luck finding another husband, asshole.” Dipper says with appropriate derision. It’s annoying that Bill even brought it up. There’s a good riposte in there, somewhere - but while his brain is coming up with an insult, his mouth runs on automatic. “But I was really worried that you would last week. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day until you sent a dick pic. It was weirdly comforting.”

Bill turns toward him with genuine surprise. He even blinks a few times, no retort emerging, and Dipper looks back at him with equal surprise. 

Until his mind catches up with what he just said. 

Dipper digs his heels in the ground, slamming to a halt. Clapping both hands to his mouth, eyes wide.

Beside him Bill nearly trips at the sudden stop, flailing for balance with a swear.

Shit, shit shit. Dipper really didn’t mean to say that. He knows Bill’s not looking around, that he’s not interested. Cynically, that he couldn’t manage it if he was. Last week was just a one-off anxiety, like all the others Dipper’s brain comes up with when it gets too much free time. Totally irrational, and really hard to stop fixating on.

Bill keeps staring. Not angry, just confused, for long enough that Dipper wants to shrink into the ground and melt into nothingness. 

Then he asks, “What the hell, Pine Tree?” 

“I don’t know! I don’t know why I thought that. I don’t know why I said that.” Dipper cringes into himself, grimacing and ducking his head. He runs a hand over his slightly sweaty face. “I didn't even want you to know I got hurt.” 

At that, Bill snorts. “Oh, please. I’d have seen that first time I got your shirt off. You can’t keep secrets from me!” 

Dipper folds his arms, internally seething - and his stupid mouth moves to say,  “I’ve done it before.” 

This time, the silence is tense.

Dipper wipes his sweating forehead again, not daring to meet Bill’s eye. God he shouldn't have -

Before he can think, he blurts out, “I think something’s wrong.” 

“Probably!” Bill agrees, with a smile just a little too sharp. He takes Dipper’s face in both hands, eye narrowed. “Hold still a sec.”

As Bill’s eye flickers blue, and the magic between them surges -  Dipper squirms a bit, but. Well. If anything’s wrong with him - magically, anyway - Bill’s the best one to diagnose it..

Bill tilts his head to one side, then the other. After a moment, his mouth twists up into something unpleasant, eye glowing slightly brighter for an instant.

Then he sighs, and lets Dipper go. His expression is neutral, except for the slightest downturn of his mouth. His lips part like he’s about to speak, then twist up into a grimace.

Uh oh.

Whatever Bill saw, he didn’t like it.

“What?” Dipper pats his head, then his chest. If there was something weird, magically about him, he - wouldn’t be able to tell, actually. He’s too close to get a good look. Oh god, what if he did hit his head too hard, and something in his brain is bleeding, or worse. “Wait. Am I dying?”

“Worse! You’re telling the truth.” Bill claps his hands together. Though he’s smiling again, it’s brittle and annoyed. “Don’t suppose you know any curse breakers that aren’t your great-uncle?”

“Not really,” Dipper admits. Bill's words catch up to him, and he bites his lip. Then, because the situation deserves it, “Fuck.”

Protection curse. The tablet.

Damn it.

A part of a horde, from a long time ago. Messed with. It should have been something less awful. Like warts, or sprouting plants from his skin, or a big fireball. Pretty much anything else would be less awful.

Truth curses are rare, they’re difficult as hell - but judging by the words spilling out of Dipper, he’s caught a pretty strong variant.

Of all the curses that could hit him. Why this one.

Hell, maybe it’s intended to be the worst curse possible for the ‘thief’. That would explain how targeted this feels. 

And knowing Dipper’s luck, that part was explained on, like, the back of the tablet.

“Welp! Good thing I’m not short on contacts, kid.” Bill grapes his shoulder, shaking him a bit, before he trails an arm over Dipper’s shoulders. “Who wants some fumbling idiot uncle to fix this kinda spell, anyway?”

Dipper would! If it was feasible. He makes a brief attempt at shrugging Bill’s arm up before letting his shoulders slump.

The idea of Ford hearing about this is….

Dipper sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Ford really would have a way around this. He'd certainly have the best intentions, Dipper’s certain. He'd...

Also not have the best sense of boundaries.

Though he'd be doing it for the right reasons, he'd ask the wrong questions. Out of concern, and arguably valid worry; he's never fully believed that Bill can't influence him. Despite how many times Dipper’s tried to explain it to him, Ford just can’t wrap his mind around certain truths.

With this curse, though. Between poor social sense, the Pines curiosity, and what Dipper might blurt out, while compelled to answer - 

On this, Dipper agrees with Bill. They’ll have to find something else to break this.

In the meantime, he’ll manage, like he has all the other times his life has sucked. Hardly the worst case scenario. If Bill had been cursed - someone who lies like he breathes -  Who knows? Give it a few days, and he might just explode from all the backed up bullshit.

“Wait.” A horrible thought strikes. Dipper reels on his husband, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“What, me? I’m a perfectly moral human man,” Bill says, resting a hand on his chest, lifting his chin with pride. “A boring sentient mammal who’s never found curses entertaining.” 

Yep, Bill’s fine. As always, it’s Dipper who gets the short end of the stick. 

He breathes in slowly, and lets it out. 

Yeah. Still sucks. He’ll deal. Cursed, but not dead. In danger, but not the worst - and his husband’s being annoying, which means he’s perfectly fine. There’s a solution too - it’s just going to be a huge, annoying process getting to it. 

“So,” Bill says, slowly. Drawing the word out in a long string, while he finger-walks his arm up around Dipper’s shoulder.

Uh oh.

Speaking of annoying…

“Watch it,” Dipper hunches his shoulders, not daring to look his idiot husband in the eye. “You’re this close to sleeping on the couch for a month.” Not a big enough threat, Bill’s still thinking- “Or for a year.”

“Oh, sure,” Bill says, in a distracted tone. His fingers pause on their walk, one ‘leg’ poised on Dipper’s clavicle. They hold the position for a long moment, tapping out a little marching step - and seconds later, his palm slaps down on Dipper’s shoulder. “So, Pine Tree! How do you feel about this ‘Bill Cipher’ guy?”

Though Dipper resists, and he really tries to, the words slip out past his teeth, his lips form the sounds -

“I love you.” God. Damnit. He clenches his fists, as Bill’s sheer smugness radiates from him like heat. “And I’m thinking about shoving you off a cliff right now.”

When Bill paused, Dipper thought he might have fended this off. Wishful thinking, really, Bill’s almost impossible to stop. Dipper used what leverage he had, but all he’s managed to avoid are the worst, most invasive questions.

When it comes to Bill, that’s pretty close to a win.

Not that it’s going to feel like one.

Bill has, in fact, been encouraged. Now that he’s heard something he likes, he leans in like a weird creep. Dipper can practically hear the leer in his voice. “And on a scale of one to ten, how handsome am I?

“Ten point five,” Dipper needs to loosen his jaw or he might break a filling. Being pumped for information is bad enough without pumping up Bill’s already ridiculous ego. “You bastard.” 

Bill’s chest puffs out, there’s a strut in his stride. The grin is so wide now Dipper’s pretty sure it should hurt- and if he dares to pucker up, he’s not getting lips on his awful face.  “And am I the most clever and sexually amazing guy in the universe or what?

This time, Dipper snorts. 

“Definitely not.” He ignores the sharp, indignant sound next to him, tilting his head in thought. “For one, there’s succubi and incubi, so. Sexually, you’re not even on top amongst demons.” He glances over at the offended ‘o’ of Bill’s mouth. “And I know you’re not the most clever, because I win our debates nearly half the time. Maybe you’re up there, but not the most. And that’s just the surface level stuff.”

Dipper doesn’t have a complete cosmological view of the multiverse, but he has learned a lot. Mostly stuff he picked up from his husband, and demonic gossip. It’s absolutely enough to go on a long, long ramble about how Bill most likely doesn’t rank number one in anything. If Dipper avoids the topics where he actually is.

He’s barely fifteen seconds in before Bill starts scowling, with a grumpy hunch to his shoulders - But screw him. 

Dipper starts smiling, just a bit. Then, to be a dick, he adds, 

“The ten and a half is just me, anyway. To the average human, you’re maybe an eight..” Dipper continues, over another spluttered protest. Again, true; not everyone likes the slightly inhuman maniac cyclops look. “Six with your personality.” 

Bill groans. “Ugh, you pedant.” He squeezes Dipper’s shoulder, jostling him slightly. “C’mon, you know what I meant! What’s the real - “

“Don’t ask questions if you can’t handle the answers,” Dipper warns, jabbing Bill in the chest. So far it hasn’t been too much, but it could be. Time to draw a line. “I will suck so much fun out of this for you.” 

Bill Cipher, unintentional teacher once more. Now Dipper knows the curse isn’t about perfect truth. When he can deliberately misinterpret a question’s intent, and can go on tangents  - that means he has loopholes. There might even be more, if he tries.

And if they can’t get this settled soon, he’ll need every one of those he can find.

“Clever brat.” Bill’s frowning, but he can’t disguise the amusement in his voice. His eyebrows wiggle, his arm hauling him close -  "Go ahead, then. Anything else you wanna share?"

"I know two and half ways to kill you, Bill Cipher." Dipper gets right up in his face. He won’t let Bill push this any further. "Don't tempt me to use them."

Being face to face like this, Dipper watches Bill’s eye go wide - ha, didn’t expect that, did he. With that threat, he’ll - 

Start cackling. And weirdly, turn a little pink. Dipper feels all the momentum he had whoosh out of him like sad balloon animal. 

“Boy, you are a saucy one!” Bill whistles, low. He places his hands demurely on his cheeks, fluttering his eye at Dipper with amusement. “Oh, yeah. Talk deadly to me.”

By this time, Dipper figures he should be used to stumbling into demonic flirtation. Only it turns out it’s basically fractal in nature, and he keeps running into new and newer edge cases.

“Fun as this is - we gotta get you cleared up, and no time like the present!” Bill’s calmed down enough to scoop an arm around his waist, leading Dipper onward. “Can’t have you babbling everything to everyone, y’know?”

“What, you don’t want me telling you everything?” Total bullshit. Dipper elbows him in the side. “I thought you wanted to get in my head.”

“Hey! I didn’t ask for our game to be set on ‘beginner’ mode. That’s boring.” Bill flicks his fingers - but he’s got his ‘evading questions’ look on. “You’re lucky I’m so- oof.”

Another elbow, harder this time. Bill grunts, but capitulates. Rubbing at his eye briefly, he sighs.

“So! How many of my secrets would you say you know, Pine Tree?” Bill tightens his grip on Dipper’s waist, tugging him closer. “And I’m talking about the ones that I wouldn’t enjoy getting out in the world.”

“More than I can count.” Dipper says without thinking. Then, with thinking -  “Oh.”

Dipper hadn’t considered how much Bill’s taught him, before this exact moment. How much he’s learned. Even unintentionally. Especially unintentionally. 

Crap, even his threat before was kind of - 

Shit. There’s definitely, absolutely, no way can they go to Ford about this. Total recipe for disaster.

“See? We both got liabilities in play here.” Bill moves easily as Dipper picks up the pace. If anything he’s amused, and not feeling nearly as urgent. Another reason he’s an idiot. “All we gotta do is get you patched up quick, and no more loose lips sinking ships! Easy-peasy.”

“It better be,” Dipper mutters. Nothing ever goes right for him. And by extension, them.

“Trust me, kid! I got this handled!” Bill snaps his fingers - and smacks Dipper’s butt with a wink. “I know some guys!”

[avocado-writing]

Hiii <3 I'm the anon that tumblr ate out- I mean I'm the anon that got their request eaten by tumblr. I'm going to send it again but please don't feel like you have to write it at all!

Basically it was just:

Crowley x wife!reader where human reader nearly dies during the London Blitz so Crowley miracles her into living forever as a type of vampire (he's a demon idk). So now Aziraphale, Reader, and Crowley are friends (possibly more by the time we get to the bookshop)

notes: HEY I AM SO SORRY I MADE THIS SO FUCKING ANGSTY. please forgive me. it just felt like the perfect setup for a bite of sadness.

pairing: crowley x f!reader

rating: T

notes: mentions of death

“You shouldn’t do this.”

Crowley knows. He knows that Aziraphale is not wrong for a number of reasons: his head office will notice, it’s against the rules, he’ll get in dreadful dreadful trouble. Demons aren’t meant to meddle in the mortality of humans. But then again demons aren’t meant to marry humans either, and he did that anyway too. 

It’s your tenth anniversary today. He can picture the wedding like a photograph in his memory: your white dress, your red lips, the huge smile you wore all day like it was stuck to your face. Impossible for you to get rid of. 

He braved the pain of a church to marry you in it, then swept you off to bed to take his mind off his burning feet.

Ten years. Ten happy years. Ten years of your gorgeous, gorgeous smile. He knew it wouldn’t be forever, but he thought that he’d at least have longer to work out what he was going to do when the time came. But there was no way you could have predicted where the bomb would land, the explosion it would cause, the shrapnel that would end up shredding your stomach.

He told you to leave London and you refused to. You refused to leave him.

Now blood soaks through your clothes onto his. You’re lifeless in his arms. Covered in brickdust and mortar. Smile gone.

In that moment he realises that he can’t continue existing without it.

“Crowley…”

“Shut it,” he snaps, far more fiercely than he should, and he’ll apologise to Aziraphale for it later… but for now, he does something very reckless indeed.

He summons the miracle from hell. It’s a big one, to snatch a soul out of the aether as it tries to slip away, but he’s a very powerful demon. He grabs the hazy edges of your spirit with his hand and slams it back into your body. There’s a surge of energy as the two parts of you reconnect, and in a shaky spasm you twitch horribly back to life.

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he whispers, cupping your face. As you work out how to breathe again Aziraphale watches in silence. There is nothing for him to say.

--

He manages to get away with it. Hell isn’t known for its incredible paper trail after all, and it’s pretty easy for him to mislay the documents that prove he ever did such a huge miracle at all. You’re alive again and there are no repercussions.

From head office, anyway.

Aziraphale eventually comes to accept the decision, and the two of you actually end up quite good friends. In fact Crowley feels quite ganged up on sometimes. You’re constantly at the bookshop helping shoo away customers and hunting down good deals for old tomes on ebay. You’ve learned to grow with the times.

But still.

There are times where you seem… distant. He’ll catch you staring out a window, seemingly a million miles away from your body. You don’t blink as much as you should since he brought you back. You don’t breathe as hard either, your chest only raising and falling about once a minute. There’s something not the same.

He cannot bring himself to admit that you came back wrong.

Every time Crowley will come over and give you a gentle kiss, bringing you out of your stupor. You’ll shake your head and return to the moment.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he’ll ask.

“Oh, yes. Of course I am,” you’ll reply, and you’ll smile.

But your smile is never quite right.

-

taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul@foolishprincipalitee@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@specter-soltare@cool-ontherun-world@emilynissangtr@willbedecided@cool-iguana@this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2@clarina04@wtfhasmy-lifecometo@mrgatotortuga@wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @kimqueenofhell@chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t@am-i-obsessed---maybe

[erophonemic]

Hey, just a PSA, a pillow princess can't be a vers. A pillow princess is a stone bottom/femme or high femme, which is someone that is not comfortable with topping ever. Just so you know <3

I can do and identity as whatever I want forever. One million explosion beams

[j-jared]

hellouu sorry to bother just wanted to say thank you for sharing your unnamed pg kokichi with kiibo head au..... i'm going to think about it forever i'll pay you millions and billions to post more about it. i really enjoy how sick of this shit kokichi looks.

do you have anything else to share about it? i'd love to hear if you do but no pressure.. i was also wondering if you think they'd encounter their classmates at any point and what they'd be up to? i think it would be really interesting. i can't help thinking about kokichi placing kiibo somewhere safe temporarily to go do something important, and a classmate who doesn't know kiibo is just head now somehow stumbling upon him and their soul leaving their body for a second while kiibo is just. :>. like it's the most normal thing in the world. that is not that funny but i am entertained. so so sorry for the long stupid annoying ask. your post triggered an explosion in my head i think.? thank you

Kaito thought it was a ghost and proceeded to neglect to tell the others about it for two weeks.

---

But yes! Please, keep asking, I will have a lot more posts in the future as I flesh it out some more.

It's been many a babble I've been thinking about, so there's not a lot I have written down or really set in stone, but I can say this:

A lot of the others escaped the hospital attack with the Future Foundation. They work with them now. But not all of them!

The attack happened kinda early into recovery - and on top of that, the extraction from the program was not easy, so our human classmates are not... exactly free from health issues. This is called foreshadowing :D

The plan is for them all to get reunited, yes, but we'll just have to see how it goes.

Kokichi is done with it all. He could not give less of a shit. But, he supposes he could get Kiibo back to the others before dipping out.

on top of all that, no one has finished therapy - including me.

But yeah, I just found the idea really funny. A lot of postcanon aus take place separated from the Tragedy, and I love the setting of Ultra Despair Girls, so I figured I'd shove my favorite cast into it. This is my brainworm.

Now hopefully that allows me to GIVE IT A NAME.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

My Spies Are Forever Hot Take(TM) is that Curt absolutely did the right thing by leaving Owen to die. He's still responsible for everything that got them to that moment, sure, but the actual abandonment was completely justified. The whole building was about to blow, Owen was critically injured, and there was no way Curt would have been able to get him out of the building in time. So Curt used his spy instincts and training to assess the situation in a mere heartbeat, and left because it was his only real choice. Him dying next to Owen might have been the romantic option, but it would have done nothing but ensure the failure of the mission and that his mother would be left alone and heartbroken.

As it is, it's a goddamn one-in-a-million miracle Owen survived the explosion. If Curt had done the stupid thing and moved him from that exact place and position he fell into, Owen probably wouldn't have made it. For all Owen's anger over Curt's abandonment, that decision saved their lives. It was what Owen did next that turned both of them into sad, small, and tattered shells for years.

[crimeronan]

God just. Fucking obsessed with transfem hunter in your princess AU.

Imagining like. Amity starts to get kinda weird around hunter. Avoiding seeing her in the castle

Hunter: "Blight must be losing her mind. Finally, I won't have to deal with her bickering."

Amity: avoiding hunter all week

Hunter: "wait no no no why aren't we bickering? You have to fight me we have to fiiiiiiiight!!"

Or the polycule solidifies and no can actually figure out what their deal is. They're giving each other horrible rending insults, and passersby get to look at luz to ask, "What's actually going on there?" And she's just like,"I dunno, man. I think that's how they flirt."

Cue distant explosion as the wet cats fight to the death again for the third time this week. "I've given up trying to figure it out. They're fine. Its literally fine."

GOD. lesbian amiter always makes me very fond and this is no exception. but more importantly you're right IT IS SO FUNNYYY....

my immediate thought for what could prompt the Amity Avoidance is, like. hunter is a few months into taking fantasy E, and the two of them have one of their usual duels. and hunter wins the way she wins like 60% of their fights (used to be more, but amity has been Studying The Hunter Blade), and pins amity. and amity Reacts.

and then is like no. no no no nO NO NO NO NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. I CAN'T BE LIKE THIS AROUND BOTH OF YOU ABSOLUUUTELY NOT. III GOTTA GO. BYE FOREVER

hunter doesn't clock this because she and amity have sparred a million times so like. What Could Possibly Be Different.

but after amity spends several days-to-weeks being uncharacteristically avoidant, hunter finally tracks her down to be like "hey. did i do something. because like. i've done a lot of things but i didn't actually INTEND to do anything this time. What Gives"

and amity is like. You'll Never Take Me Alive .

silly. i have no idea how long it would take hunter to figure it out. logic dictates the funniest option is the best one, which is that luz -- who for maximum hilarity STILL hasn't figured out amity is crushing on her -- is like

.....hmmmm. hey have you..... noticed amity acting weird around you lately....?

harold....

this brought to you by every lesbian i've ever known who developed a sudden and crippling crush on their longtime """guy""" friend almost the moment said friend transitioned. There Are So Many Of Us.

[orangeheliophile]

"Golden."

Part 1.

(Bakugou Katsuki x reader)

What happens when your old childhood best friend starts to barge inside your head and invade all of your thoughts? Will you kick the explosion boy out of your heart?... please don't. He's praying that you won't.

Warnings: Some angst.

Reader is Afro-Latina and neurodivergent. Reader also has a sun quirk. Reader has symptoms of PTSD, Psychosis, and Schizophrenia. Reader is a female.

Contains: Childhood friends to strangers to lovers trope, fluff, memory loss, slight crack. Dadzawa, Aizawa adopted reader, Bakugou is Puerto Rican-Japanese. He wears hearing aids and piercings as well in this fic.

This was based on an idea I had a while ago, but I switched it up a bit. I'm not going to lie, I wrote this with my oc in mind, too. I hope that's okay!

Part 1:

Bright nostalgic dreams.

It's warm. Everything feels warm. And bright.

The scenery is vibrant, the air is fresh and calm, and you're at peace.

Trees. Cherry blossoms, one of your favorites. There's a river. A small creek with flowers and grass. A boy, no more than five or six.

The boy's eyes are a gorgeous cherry red wine. His hair is spiky and a sandy golden blonde that reminds you of the sun. He's in the middle of everything, or everything is revolving around him. He's holding something out to you... String? Red string. Ah, a bracelet.

He seems nervous, yet calm and eager. The boy's palm holds out the bracelet towards you, already wearing a matching one on his wrist. Your eyes light up in curiosity, stepping closer as you stand in front of him with a dazed smile. His eyes widen; cheeks turning a bubblegum pink as you ramble how thoughtful he is and how much you love the gift.

Your fingers reach out slowly lace with his, reaching for the gift but also his hand. You remember your young heart beating, overjoyed with how the moment reminds you of fairytales. The boy tenses up, quickly giving your hand a squeeze as he steps closer. The young blonde rests his forehead against yours, his cherry red eyes staring into yours with dilated pupils.

He helps tie the red strings around your wrist, whispering promises that you'll always be together, how he's going to protect you, and always do his best to make you happy. But you already are when you're with him.

His words make you smile, delight in your eyes as you nod and bump your nose against his affectionately. He swears he can hear his own heartbeat, even if his hearing is impaired. Yet he returns the gesture anyway. The boy's hand slowly reaches to cup your cheek, caressing a beauty mark with his thumb; the best in his heart quickening when you giggle at him.

Is this love? He thinks, wanting to live every moment with the person who makes your heart beat with joy and who makes you feel at peace?...

Crimson eyes glance back into yours, gaze shy, but intimate as you can see and almost feel his entire soul by looking into those irises. His pupils dilate when you smile, your precious smile where the corners of your eyes wrinkle in utter joy and your cute dimples show. His favorite one.

You're like an angel. The way your skin turns bronze under the sunlight, your curls looking as soft as the clouds above you, and those eyes of yours. They shine like dark honey under the golden glow of the sun. He sometimes wonders if this is heaven.

He's completely a hundred million percent sure he's in love with you. It doesn't matter if his mother says he's just five years old. You're the reason he believes in the so-called mushy emotion. Oh, that word, love. It's such a vulnerable thing, really. Of course, the boy wants to become the best hero there is, but with you by his side.

So he makes these bracelets in the hope that you'll always remain each other's forever. That no matter what, you'll find each other in every way, life, and every universe. He's not much of a poet, for he's only five, but you make him feel warm and fuzzy inside. And he wants to make you feel the same way.

All of this runs through the boy's mind, but you don't think. You just feel. Your eyes soak in the moment, wanting to memorize these precious seconds with him. He's special. He's always been on your mind since you could remember. It makes your young heart flutter when you see him, and you smile. As bright as the sun. Maybe even brighter.

The boy holds your hand firmly but gently; guiding you to a spot underneath one of the cherry blossoms trees near the river. It's pretty, you think. The vibrant grass and blooming flowers, the sparkling river filled with colorful fish, and the sun. It's so bright and warm. It always makes things shine more in your perspective.

The breeze flows through both of you, giving you more fresh air as the two of you breathe it in. "Breathing is one of the most important things." Your mother would always say, "It's essential to life. It helps with feelings and thoughts. It keeps you alive."

You both sit down, shoulder to shoulder, and your hands intertwined. When you lean your head against his, his face turns red, heart thumping in his chest as he returns the sweet gesture. Does this mean you're both married now? You've already held hands and given him a kiss on the cheek...

The birds sing, and you both dip your feet into the cool water and enjoy the peaceful silence. The moment is serene. It's like the nature and energy around you are absorbing you into the moment. And most of all, the boy is by your side.

You don't know why, but you feel more than complete with him. You're at peace. With the occasional flutter in your stomach when he squeezes your hand three times. You nuzzle your head against his in return.

The connection between you is shy, curious, and young. Yet, at the same time, it's deep in a way. Nothing else matters other than the memories and the emotions you share. Oh, the perspective of children is always more innocent and sweet.

The sun shines, and you both admire how the other looks so breathtaking under it. Breathtaking. He taught you that word. When describing what he thought of you one day. But really, the word reminds you of him. He reminds you of a star. Shining and bound for greatness and bursting full of energy.

He's your favorite star, you think. A mixture of red, orange, and yellow when you imagine the colors of it. The stars and energy mushed together with explosive light. It's powerful yet breathtaking.

If he's a star, then you're the sun, he thinks. You're warm and bright. Your presence is... comforting. You glow under the divine light as if you were born under the drop of its golden glory. You remind him of every color of light. You're sunrises, sunsets, and his safe place. And the depth in your eyes when you gaze into his soul is enchanting. Of course, he already knows so many words.

Such deep words to describe your young connection. But they fit, in a way. In a way, you'll both understand when you're older; that's what your parents always said, anyway.

He's never loved himself, and you have the same problem, too, sometimes. Yet, just by being in your presence, his young soul learns to love himself the way he loves you. And you forget all the terrible things when you're with him, because he also makes you want to love yourself. Because he loves you.

Self-love is important. Yet sometimes people have trouble doing that, so you both agreed to love each other so you both can see how wonderful you both are. And that makes your bond stronger. Because you both made a promise to stay together. Because at least your souls will be with each other when everything is over.

You sway your feet in the water, daydreaming of the future and alternate ones. You've always thought of things like these for as long as you can remember. And you made him start to wonder of these things, too. He made these bracelets as a reminder of how you both are connected. But you've always been, everything is.

You just feel the bond is deeper and more wonderful with him.

Enlightening is a deep and strong word. One you should use when you're older. Your mother always spoke of poems and quotes about life. Yet your young mind understands in a simple way. Everything is enlightening. Every moment has a purpose and no purpose. Everything just is.

Your head tilts up at the sky, and he does the same.

But when you're with him, everything always feels so perfect.

The two of you bask in the light, relishing the precious moments of your childhood together. No worries at all. Because you both know that everything will be okay. It always is.

The sky is a beautiful blue, fluffy clouds swaying in the wind as the water ripples in the river, the only sound being those of nature.

The boy turns his head towards you, playing with your fingers while his pupils dilate impossibly more when you smile at him; the familiar thump in his heart returning.

"I promise we're going to always be together. It's just you and me. We're going to share the best lives with each other, got it?"

He says, his tone more of a statement than a question. His cheeks turn darker, feeling shy while avoiding your gaze with a turn of his head. You smile happily, nonetheless.

"I promise! I want to be with you when we're older!"

His cheeks heat up, feeling his heart beat faster as he nods his head and presses his lips to your forehead, kissing the space between your eyebrows as he always does.

"Good. That means we're going to be together in everything, right?"

You nod, still innocent to everything as you feel excited to be with your best friend. Your head tilts to the side curiously, thoughts trailing through your mind as you cling onto his arm.

"Wait, do you mean like marriage or something?"

The boy freezes, face and neck turning a deeper red as he turns his head to the side. You blink, waiting for him to deny it, but he doesn't. He's always bragged how he was going to officially marry you when you were older, but he suddenly feels shy when you say the words.

The young blonde gulps hard, slowly nodding his head as he gives you a determined pout while he wraps his arms around your neck and shoulders; pulling you into a side hug. You smile happily, swaying your feet in excitement as you squeal and squish your cheek against his, nuzzling your faces together.

A giggle leaves your lips, smiling shyly with your free hand rubbing the back of your neck. The boy blushes harder, feeling you kiss his cheek while holding his hand tightly.

"I don't care what we do. I just want to stay with you.

The spiky haired boy huffs in approval, giving you a shy, grumpy look before cupping your chubby cheeks in his hands, fluttering his eyes close as he pulls you into a shy, innocent kiss.

You squeak against his lips, feeling your heart pitter patter as he squishes your cheeks before pulling away. You stare at the blonde with heart eyes, his face as red as a tomato as he grumbles how 'his parents do this all the time,' or how 'he just wants to show his love for you.'

You break into a grin, giggling at his excuses as you quickly peck the tip of his nose, mumbling how you're just happy to be with him and that he's like a fairytale prince.

This makes the boy's eyes light up. He seems content with your answer. The last thing of the sweet moment is his smile. The prettiest one you've ever seen. He wants to stay in this moment forever. With you being his pretty sun princess and him being the strong explosive knight.

Stay. You want to stay. Stay in the sweet, precious memory of the joyous childhood you had.

You want to relive the vibrant, warm feelings of the moments in your young years.

And maybe you want to meet him again. You want to see if he was real or just a wonderful dream you thought of in your childhood.

But you're certain, something's still there. A raw feeling. Not just an emotion, but something more. Deeper. More bright. An energy? Maybe.

Your mother was the more spiritual one, anyway.

Your eyes flutter open, dazing awake with your cheek resting on your fist. Eyes darting around, you take in your surroundings. It's the evening. And you've had the same dream again. The same thought and feeling.

It's not a memory. It can't be. Then again, you can't say much about your past, anyway.

The windows are open. The orange glow of light shining into the living room. The breeze flows in from the windows. Except, it's a bit cold. It's refreshing but cold. And you don't feel that warmth you crave anymore.

You were eight years old when you left Japan. You were ten when your precious mother died. She was pregnant with your second brother. Your younger brother died with your family. Unfortunately, you do remember. You wish you didn't.

Your stepfather was cruel. That, you wish you did forget. Those memories and nightmares you had back at home haunt you when it's dark. You can feel it's clawing onto your skin when you sleep.

Your eyes, once filled with hope, are dull. Staring around your dorm room at UA. At least you get to decorate it with the things you like.

Everything is a blur. And maybe it's better that way. At least you have a better father. Aizawa Shouta. You were about fourteen when you returned to Japan. Naomi Hinata, a pro hero, took care of you after stepfather was arrested for many things. But she was busy, and Aizawa had a tendency to adopt stray things.

You were nervous at first, but then you began to trust the raven haired man soon enough. You felt safe. He was the father you wish you had. He's family.

Your quirk was a powerful one. The Sun. You have the abilities similar to those of mythology gods. The ones who were deities of the sun, anyway.

Here's the twist, though: your mother's quirk was basically mother nature. She was able to create everything out of nothing. She was connected with every single living thing. She was able to feel, absorb, and give energy. She also had a great fondness for nature as well.

A part of her quirk transferred to you, meaning you could sense energy as well as absorb it. But you could also take it, you could shift energy and use it to power your quirk. Like the sun, you give and you can take. And just by seeing someone, it's almost as if you can see their soul.

It's weird, really. The sun can see what everyone does, and so can you. It's a blessing and a curse.

You like seeing little details about people. Such as small habits or ways they react to certain things. You enjoy seeing the depth in things. You're observant, yet a bit oblivious at times. You've always been told you were always emotionally intelligent.

And whenever you feel too much, whenever your quirk gets too strong, you have Aizawa to help you, taking an amount of your quirk away so you can rest. Both of your eyes glow golden when you use your quirk. It comforts you in a way, being able to have something in common with someone. A reminder you're not alone.

Trains of thought end when a timer beeps.

Oh! That's right. You're here. You are physically here. Not in The Tri State Area, but right here. At home. You should probably check on the food you're cooking unless you want it to get burnt.

Your body flinches, eyes widening as you scramble from your spot from the couch and rush into the kitchen. You make a mental note on to watch more Phineas and Ferb later this weekend.

"Dang it!" You mutter, turning off the stove as you glance to the pot filled with warm, Japanese-inspired chicken noodle soup. Your comfort food. Along with ham and cheese empanadas and Yuzu cha.

A soft smile rises on your lips as you inhale the warm bone broth of the soup. You sigh in content, grabbing two bowls from the cabinets as you pour one for yourself and Aizawa.

It's quiet. It's a comforting quiet, at least. At least you're not alone. Even if the raven haired man was an underground hero, he never failed to spend time with you and make you feel safe; even letting you braid his hair sometimes.

You take slow steps to the table, carrying the bowls in each hand as you set them down and go to grab the rest of the condiments. Just as you're about to place down the cups of tea, the door unlocks; revealing a tired Aizawa with a small scar on his hand.

A smile grows on your face, placing the cups down as you rush to go over and hug the tired man, squeezing him into a bear hug as you squeal in joy and excitement. Aizawa laughs, hugging you back as he pats your head gently.

"Hey, hon. How was your day? Hope it wasn't too bad." He mumbles, resting his chin on the top of your head as you grin and shake your head. "No, it was fine! How are you? And why do you have a scar on your hand?-" You ramble, pulling away from the hug to examine the small gash on the back of his palm.

The older man chuckles, letting you drag him towards the kitchen as he kicks off his boots and places his keys on the counter. "Just some crook causing me trouble. There's nothing to worry about." Aizawa states, giving you a teasing smile when you pout and give him a look.

You huff, rolling your eyes as you grab his hand and quickly disinfect the wound, rummaging from the drawers to place a Hello Kitty bandaid on the back of his hand; muttering an old song in Spanish to help heal the wound. (Sana sana colita de rana.)

The raven haired man raises an eyebrow, staring at your work as he sighs and chuckles, staring at the cat bandaid on his hand now. "I love it so much." He says nonchalantly, the slightest sarcasm in his voice, but his eyes tell the truth: he does like it.

You huff a giggle, making your way towards the table as Aizawa follows, curious to see what you decided to make. Sitting down at the table, the older man sees the Japanese style chicken noodle soup, along with Yuzu cha and a side of empanadas. "Comfort food, huh?" The raven haired asks, knowing you well as he sees you smile awkwardly and rub your nape. "I was just thinking, I guess. Plus it's getting cold outside so I thought this was a good opportunity!"

He scoffs sassily, making you gasp in offense but he gives you a small smirk before grabbing the utensils. "Whatever you say, kid. Itadakimasu."

You pout, giving him a harmless glare but mumbling in response, digging into the food as you both enjoy the meal and comforting silence.

"Did you add something sour into the soup?"

"Hey, don't judge me. It gives the soup a good kick in my opinion. Plus, everything just tastes better with lemon."

The older man sighs, shaking his head as he chuckles at the thought. You remind him a lot of your mother, but he decides to not say anything instead. Your adopted father eats nonetheless, never going to admit that he agrees with your opinion.

After finishing your meal, you stare at your bowl, lost in thought as you sway your feet while resting your cheek on your fist; analyzing the recurring dream you had. You sigh deeply, making Aizawa glance at you as he sips on the Yuzu. "Hey, papa?" You mutter, as he places the cup down and nods. "Something on your mind, sweetheart?"

You shrug your shoulders, thinking back of the boy with blonde spiky hair and vibrant cherry red eyes; along with the lingering nostalgia of what never happened.

"I had a weird dream where I was with this blonde boy and he kissed me."

Aizawa chokes on his drink, coughing a bit as you pat his back in support. The older man groans, rubbing his face with his uninjured hand as he shudders at the thought of you dating a boy. A blonde, to be specific. Aizawa deadpans, turning to look at you as you blink at him. He sighs, looking you dead in the eye as he speaks.

"Y/n, do you live to torment me with these things?"

"Yes."

The raven haired groans in annoyance, trying not to interrogate you into details so he can murder the mysterious dream boy as he exhales deeply and taps the wood on the table with his index finger. "Stay away from blondes. Especially the loud ones."

But were you listening? No. You were staring at the table while thinking which TV show you wanted to watch later.

You chose Phineas and Ferb. Wait no, The Office. Or maybe the!-

Point is, you wanted to learn about the bright nostalgic dream you keep having. Did your dad say something about yellow noise, or something?

First part is done, I plan on making a ton more. I'm excited to start this series too! :)

And hopefully I'll make longer parts, or maybe not! What do you guys think?

And if you have any ideas for this fic or anything you want to read about, feel free to write or ask me!