#{ All of them UNironically play this when training/working out no one can convince me otherwise LOL }

[edwardslostalchemy]

the thing that kills me about bakugou is when the plf go "having a powerful quirk means i'm better than you"and basically advocate for eugenics, it's horrible and corrupt, but when bakugou does it, it's lol funny and 'oh that gremlin.' in a recent chapter he made fun of the past OFA holders for having 'weak' quirks and dying and he said these things in front of Toshi, who has himself given so much. just...what was the point of him knowing about OFA if he was just going to be a disrespectful ass?

I have no idea why it was necessary for him to know, tbh. I think it was a waste of an opportunity to give him growth by NOT telling him. And honestly, I agree that k*tsuki and the plf have similar ideals because they’re elitists. :/ They think they’re better than others. Unironically, the lov wanting k*tsuki on their side would have been like, them all sharing this same thought. Idk, I just don’t like him. The things he says and does are played off as comedic relief now and it’s honestly so annoying. He needs to be brought down from his pedestal. 

(I have multiple messages so I am putting them all in one post under a read more, I hope it works, but if somehow it doesn’t, I’m really sorry. My computer says it works, but mobile doesn’t show it. This will be a long post.)

Anonymous said:

You know... I wouldn’t mind Bakugou winning vs Ochako so much if his blast had simply redirected enough rubble for him to make it though the pelting, and the fight had ended with an actual visible inflicted injury on his part, like a cut on his face, that stuck around for the rest of the tournament. Make the close call have more concrete, visible consequences for him then his arms aching a bit.

I agree with this completely. That thing about his arms aching doesn’t show much of the consequences at all. And he gets over it rather quickly. I hate that he has so much plot armor.

Anonymous said:

Ngl i dont ship Todo/deku (dont really ship Izuku with anyone lol) but its such a nice ship like?? People can ship what they want but why ship Baku/deku when Tododeku is RIGHT THERE. I would rather have todo/deku be the twin stars like.. Todoroki having to overcome his fathers legacy and be a better hero then his father ever could be while Izuku perpetuates all mights legacy and carries the legacy of One For All?? Poetic cinema

+ I SENT AN ASK ABOUT PREFERRING TODO/DEKU TO BAKU/DEKU AND I WANTED TO ADD SOMETHING SKSKS. we could totally have an "its your power" moment. Izuku getting Todo to accept his left side and Todo getting Izuku to remember that OFA is his power now.

Todo/deku is really the poetic cinema we need and deserve. Idk why people like b*kud*ku, that’s what they prefer, but the ship itself is not healthy in the slightest and I find it pretty disturbing. I agree with you, nony. Everything you said is correct.

Anonymous said:

If I'm gonna be honest the whole "he was raised in a household of screaming and abuse" isn't a good enough reason as to why Bakugo has no chill. Like we've seen people like Todoroki raised in a household much worst but he didn't come out as a jerk or bully. I'd like to see more of Bakugo's interactions with his parents but for the most part the dad seems like a pushover and his mom is just loud at times. But no where close to Endeavor. So yeah Bakugo shut up challenge

Yeah, idk how their dynamic works, it’s just mitsuki screaming at k*tsuki while his dad tries to intervene, but doesn’t do a good job about it. I don’t like that she smacked his head. But I think people really stretch it to give him a tragic backstory when in reality, he doesn’t have one. He is a spoiled brat. Shouto has proven how to be a better person. He’s just a better character in general.

Anonymous said:

This might be long but I want to get something off my chest and I love your blog so I used to like bk//dk. If you asked me why. It's because I was enamored by the fanon ver of this pair with a better bkg and the whole appeal of childhood 'friends'/reconciliation trope it had going on and some fans have convinced me that their relationship wasn't as bad as it's portrayed before UA and that bkg was only like that because of society and thinking Izuku was "looking down" at him. 1/3

Thinking about it. it's really stupid and the verge of victim blaming but anyways. What stopped me from liking it and instead hating the pair is that after dk vs kc 2 I was expecting the improvement in their relationship, for a moment I thought we got it. But in reality it's just bc we haven't seen them interact much after the overhaul arc and before the joint training arc.Then the joint arc came and the 2nd internship arc came and whoo boy, I feel like I was cheated on. 2/3

Rather than making bkg's behavior improve towards Izuku, He's still as much of an asshole who belittles him, mocks him ,acts like he can't stand him but less threats of killing him combined with Izuku who just takes it because he's a nice person. But the narrative acts like their good friends now and I have been feeling so frustrated with this, I wanted a mutual relationship with mutual respect on both sides and bk//dk hasn't reached that part and it shouldn't take this long for it to be. 3/3

Thank you for sharing this with me, nony!! I appreciate it. It’s really sad that their relationship hasn’t improved at all. It’s so long overdue and now things are played as comedic relief like him hurting Izuku with his spike and also being extremely disrespectful during the ofa meetings. Their relationship isn’t healthy and it isn’t friendly, no matter how canon wants to paint it that way.

Anonymous said:

the only reason bkg gets to know OFA is because he guilted Izu into telling him a half truth in S1 then guilted AM and Izu with his tantrum in S3 He also had the privilege to know Izu since childhood and saw AFO so he had the advantage Izuku would have never told him otherwise. Same time Izuku's friends don't "deserve" to know about OFA, rather, Izuku deciding to tell them himself will make the revelation to them more special since its Izu deciding to tell a piece of himself than being forced to

HOT TAKE

@havocsss said:

i just wanted to say i appreciate your opinion on bnha about bakugo (bc someone finally said it 👀) and you put into words for me how i feel abt that character - and that's partly why i just can't watch it. he's the bully that everyone idolises and gets let away with murder and naaaah mate that's not how it works

Thank you, I’m glad to hear it. I don’t like that he, a literal bully who has suicide baited Izuku and has hurt him with his explosion quirk, is the fandom’s favorite and the most popular character. Literally any other character would have been better to stan than him. He’s everywhere and I can’t enjoy part of the series because of him always being there. It’s so annoying. I will continue to yell about why he is not a good character until horikoshi gives us the development he desperately needs AND an apology to Izuku for being so abusive to him. And yes, bullying is abuse.

Anonymous said:

I know that feeling. I also greatly dislike Bakugou. He almost ruins the manga for me at times. I can't even think of a plot with Izuku where Hori won't try to include him in some way. I tried reading metas abt him, tried to look at him in a different light but I realised that I really hate his personality, combined with his overhyped popularity just makes me can't stand him. I wish I could even just be neutral for him but that's being a challenge.

Yeah, he’s not a good character. Very infuriating and annoying. We do not stan him in this house.

Anonymous said:

I feel like if Aizawa actually knew that Bakugou used to bully Izuku he'd probably whoop Bakugou's ass

OOF I’d like to see him expel him.

Anonymous said:

I like how it's framed like I'm supposed to feel sorry for Bakugou because he feels manpain for not being the strongest in the class. Like the dude went from a regular school to the best of the best and he still expected to be the strongest person there is with no challenge?

Awww, is the spoiled brat sad? Good. He can die mad about it.

Anonymous said:

If Aizawa did the combat training instead of All Might he would've stopped Bakugou the first time he used his gauntlets and automatically failed him and I really wish that would've been the outcome

Tbh he should have been expelled for trying to kill a classmate.

Anonymous said:

Oh yeah I remember that character entrance when he just basically I insults his partner for training. Look I love the kid but if I was a teacher I would've flamed him so hard like there could've been a hostage, that weapon could have went off, his partner could've been captured. That's how you ended up failing the license exam

OOF. When will he learn.

Anonymous said:

Um excuse the ever living fuck out of me but I just saw a fic that was bakugou/consequences where Izuku attempted suicide and you know what the ship was?? My pure green son who deserves the world and his literal bully/abuser are you SHITTING ME???? I try very hard not to hate ships I do really try but I just CAN'T with this ship it disgusts me

It's not a healthy ship. I am disturbed by this fic and I don’t even know what it’s called and I don’t want to know. Eww.

Anonymous said:

I see myself as Izuku cause I relate to him a lot and I just read something where Bakugou does what my abuser did to me to Izuku and now I'm having a very hard time stomaching the thought of him and like I really loved kiri/baku too but now I can't even think about it cause someone who shipped my notp thought it would be a good idea to make Bakugou an abuser and give Izuku Stockholm syndrome ☹

Oh nony…I’m so sorry to hear about that. That really sounds rough and I hope you’re feeling better. That sounds awful. I’m just…I’m appalled. Also giving Izuku Stockholm syndrome with this ship is just. Wow.

[badbadbucky]

Novelization of the scene between Klaus and Hargreeves in the Afterlife

Hey everybody, I’m trying a writing  exercise in which I novelize my favorite scenes from TV shows and movies in an effort to improve my prose writing. Below you’ll find the scene of Klaus and Reginald in the afterlife from the Umbrella Academy, the episode the Day That Was. I’d love to hear what you guys think!

Klaus stood on the dirt road in heaven. The mean little girl who was God pointed him toward a tiny cabin, practically a shack, under a water tower.

Sometimes, he and Dave had laid in a foxhole together, talking, and  praying they didn’t hear the pop of gunfire. Dave would tell him about his uncle’s cabin. All the summer’s he’d spent sleeping in a tent under the water tower, while his uncle slept off a few sixpacks inside.  The one that his uncle had promised to sell him once he got back home. Small, but cozy. Stacked with cans of soup and board games and mystery novels. Dave said that when they were back in the world they could stay in the cabin and never leave. Their whole world could be the cabin, the trees, and the water tower. If this was heaven then it was exactly as he’d hoped.

Klaus smiled for the first time in what surely must be a hundred years. Had he only lost Dave the day before? Not allowed to properly mourn. Forced to explain his pain only to find no one listening? But they were going to be together again. Dave was waiting for him.

He ran across the brambles and undergrowth in the clearing where the cabin and watertower sat. Just off the little dirt road.

“Dave!” He called. “Dave!” He’d pretended to be this excited a thousand times. He was a brilliant pretender, but he’d never been so genuinely excited to see someone. He’d never run to see someone unironically before. But it was Dave. Dave.

“Dave!” He burst through the door of the cabin to find himself inside an old fashioned barber shop.

He turned from side to side, taking in the empty barber shop, a little disoriented, a lot confused. The name of the shop, the Nite Owl Barber Shop, was painted on the outside of the window. A game played on the radio in the back room. The floor was black and white and checkered. No one in sight. Certainly not Dave. Was this something he had to go through to get to Dave? Or had he been had?

He tried not to feel too disappointed, otherwise it would overtake him. What did he expect?

Klaus climbed into one of the barber chairs. Seemed to be the thing to do. Maybe if he got through whatever this was he would get to see Dave. Fine. He’d play along.

Behind him the barber snapped a cape in the air to shake it out and then draped it over his neck. Klaus instinctively tensed as the barber pulled the cape tight and buttoned it around his neck. He turned but didn’t get a glimpse of the barber’s face.

Klaus sighed. Was the afterlife always this abstract?.

The barber hooked a hot towel under his chin and then draped it over his face, enveloping Klaus’s face in warmth with a hole in the center for breathing. It felt amazing.

Klaus let his head drop back. “Oh. Oh yeah. Feels so nice,” he said.

The barber turned the chair until Klaus was facing the mirror, though his vision was obscured by the towel. This wasn’t half bad.

The barber pressed the towel against Klaus’s face, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was holding in his jaw.

Then. Then that familiar stern voice. That daft villain from a superhero cartoon, too posh by far, release the hounds accent. “What in God’s name took you so long?” And the hands were gone.

The tension was back in Klaus’s neck and shoulders before his brain even registered who the voice belonged to. The response was so automatic. Fear and defensiveness. He was glad the towel was still covering his face, it gave him time to put his mask back on before he slid the slowly cooling towel off his face, leaving his skin soft and warm.

“Dad.” The joy and the spark were gone from his voice, all that remained was thick voiced acceptance. If he’d hidden his face for longer then his dad would know he was weak.

So this was what God meant by “he.” Not Dave. No. Dear old dad. The old man. He already hated his powers every single day of his Goddamn life but on days like this one he hated them double. If he just sat here, through whatever it was the old man had to say, then maybe they could part ways and he’d never have to see him again.

Klaus tilted his eyes up as his father drew closer, already in full lecture mode, skipping all niceties. Always he skipped the niceties. All of this just so typical.

“I expected my son, who can conjure the dead, to have brought me forth days ago.”  Sir Reginald said. Always so gruff. Always so forthright. Strident.

Disapproval was an angle he could work with. He was used to his father being disappointed with him. Disapproving of him. It was a familiar dance. One he knew all the steps to if he’d allow himself to fall back into sense memory. He took a moment. A deep breath, then he said the first line of an old routine, the specifics may change but the song remains the same.

“Oh, yeah, well, you see, it’s complicated. I tried I-”He felt himself starting to whine but found he couldn’t help it.

Reginald brushed shaving cream over his face, covering his lips, cutting off whatever excuse he’s been about to give.

The fresh sharp bitterness of the cream hit his tongue, he blew out his lips trying to keep more cream from getting in his mouth, his eyes involuntarily squinched closed.

“I did, but-”

“You were poisoning yourself.” Reginald continued to brush the shaving cream onto Klaus’s face.

“What do you expect? You just died, I was beside myself with grief.” Neither of them believed that.

“Don’t you dare try to use me as an excuse for your weakness. “

“Oh right. Yeah. You had nothing to do with it.” He couldn’t believe he was actually saying all of this to his father. The things he’d been wanting to say for years. The things he’d practiced in a thousand roleplays in a thousand group therapy sessions in rehab, what he’d fallen asleep rehearsing in his mind, if he ever got the chance to have a real conversation with his father.  To tell him what he did. To try and make him understand what he’d taken from him. From his siblings.

“Locking me in a mausoleum with corpses when I was thirteen?” He was proud that his voice only wobbled once as he put baldly just exactly what it was his father had done to him. No more euphemisms. Calling it training or immersion therapy. He’d been locked in a mausoleum for hours, sometimes days on end, with the dark and the spirits, when he was just a kid.

His father pulled out a straight razor and looked at him with exasperation as he kept trying to put the blade to Klaus’s face to begin the shave, but Klaus was not going to be shut up. Not yet at least, no matter how much it annoyed dear daddy.

“No you’re right. It’s irrelevant.”

Once again his father tried to grab his face to scrape the blade across his skin. Klaus pulled back a bit, eyeing his father.

“Ah, ah, ah, careful, Dad,” he said. He didn’t actually care whether the old man nicked an artery but with Sir Reginald you scored points any way you could.

“Don’t worry,” Sir Reginald said, “You’re already dead.” He didn’t soften his tone, in fact the old bastard almost sounded gleeful, he seemed to know that the news wouldn’t bother Klaus.

And it didn’t. Klaus relaxed into the chair.  “Well. That’s a relief.�� It was over. He only now realized that he wasn’t hurting. The shivers, the nausea, the crack in his skull. He felt good. His heart hurt, but he took that to be a permanent condition.

His father gently stroked the razor down his face. “You children like to blame everything on me.”

If there was a moment Klaus was convinced that this really was his dad and not a head injury induced hallucination this was it. However solipsistic and self-aggrandizing he remembered the old man to be, he was always blown away by the genuine article.  

Then came the words Klaus had been longing to say to his father his entire life and he wasn’t even enjoying it. “Well you were a sadistic prick.” He didn’t look at his father, just stared into the middle distance. He never imagined he would be so calm. “Not to mention the world’s worst father.”

“I just wanted you to live up to your potential.”

That bullshit might still work on Luther. And hell it may have even worked on Klaus at one time or another, but not now.

“You especially.” Reginald gestured at him with the razor. “You’re my greatest disappointment, number four.”

Well, at least he was number one at something.

“You only scratched the surface of what you are truly capable of.”

But what could his father possibly have expected from him? Wasn’t he the one who told him he was weak. Who ranked him dead in the middle. Everyone knows the middle isn’t special. That nothing great is expected from the middle of the pack. What was he capable of?

“If only you’d focused.”

“Wait wait wait wait wait, what, what potential?” Was his father really just going to blow past that one?

“No instead you just pump yourself full of poison.”

He was going to blow past it! Klaus wanted an explanation of his supposed potential but instead he got track six of Dad’s greatest hits. Say nope to dope.

“Because you’re...afraid. Afraid of what? The dark?” His father had a hold on the side of his face and it was starting to hurt.

Was he really going to have to explain for  the millionth time he was not afraid of the dark? He couldn’t. Not again. Dad had never listened in life. He sure wasn’t going to listen in death. Nothing was going to make a dent so he might as well get it all off his chest.

“You know, I suggest you get down off your high horse there, dear papa,” he pronounced the papa like a Victorian orphan, “you never had our best interests at heart. Look at your precious number one. Luther found all the unopened letters he sent you. He knows you sent him up to the moon for nothing.”

If there was anything that might get through to the old man it was that. Luther was his favorite. The only one who’d stuck by him. The one who sacrificed his mind, soul, and finally body at the altar of their father’s ego.

His father’s sharp gaze softened a bit. He looked a bit less like an angry cartoon owl and more like a person.

“That was foolish of me.”

Klaus’s eyes widened. He’d gotten through. The old man actually gave a shit! Maybe not about him, but about somebody.

“I should have burned it all.”

Klaus couldn’t help but laugh. Of course. Of course.  “That’s your take away.” Yes. The genuine article always blew him away.  “Oh. Wow. Yeah. Of course it is.”

His father grabbed the other side of his face and jerked it to the side to get a better angle as he continued to shave Klaus’s face. Harder than necessary, his fingers dug into the side of Klaus’s head. Klaus blinked in surprise at the pain, then his father loosened the grip.

“Not an ideal solution, I confess. Bu I knew that the world would soon need him. Need all of you. And I had to do what was necessary.”

Klaus crinkled his eyebrows. He could almost believe the old man.

The old man looked him in the eye. “Is he okay?”

Klaus held his gaze steady. He spoke flat and calm. “Do you care?”

“Everything I did. Everything I put you through. It was to prepare you. All of you. For something bigger than yourselves.”

Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Endeavoring to explain himself. Wonders never ceased.

“You never understood that.” Reginald continued.

They weren’t the only ones who never understood.

The razor scraped across the skin on his neck, clearing away the hair and cream.

“We were-” He paused. His father wasn’t going to listen to him. But he had to try and make him. He had to say it. He wasn’t strong enough like Luther. He wasn’t brave enough like Diego.  But he was the only one who could.

His dad continued to scrape the razor across his skin. Ignoring his son, sitting there, desperately trying to tell him something.

Klaus grabbed his father’s hand. Stopping him. Forcing his dad, the only one he ever had, to look at him.

Even though he could feel his voice cracking and feel his chin wobbling, the sure signs he was on the verge of tears, he said what needed to be said.

“We were just kids. Little kids.”

His father stared into his soul. “You were never just kids.”

That was that. He’d tried and he failed. His father would never see what he did to them. Not in the face of-

“You were meant to save the world.”

“Wait. Wait. So you knew all about this? About the apocalypse?” Klaus asked.

“I knew I had to bring you back together one way or another. The fate of the world depended on it.”

Klaus put the pieces together but his brain refused to articulate it. It was unthinkable.

“Why-What are you saying?” Klaus asked. Praying his father wouldn’t answer.

His dad carded his fingers through Klaus’s hair, brushing it back. The most physical contact they’d ever had and they were both dead. There was some small comfort in having his father’s hand resting on his head, but he couldn’t find solace in it. He couldn’t hide the dismay on his face, even if it made him look weak. If his father thought he was soft.

“The only way to get you all back together was something...momentous.”

“Wait. you.” A tear rolled down Klaus’s cheek. “You don’t mean...you killed yourself?”

The old man grunted. Confirmation.

“Oh Christ. You could never do things the easy way could you? You couldn’t have picked up a phone?”

“Would you have answered? “The old man asked.

Klaus opened his mouth and closed it. Probably not, but at least try it first. Suicide shouldn’t be plan A.

“Now listen to me number four.” Things were always serious when your parent used your full name. “What I am about to say is of great importance…”

And just like that his father faded away. Always had to have the last word.

The pounding music from the rave seeped through the walls of the barber shop. Oozing into his ears.

“No. No. No. No, no, no, no, no. I can’t. No I can’t.” He cried, shaking his head, begging God, the universe, the little girl, anyone just let him stay, don’t make him go back. He was dead. He didn’t hurt. He could rest. He was going to find Dave. “I can’t go back!” His voice frantic. “No. Wait!” He squeezed his eyes shut.

And when he opened them he was back in the club. He shot up, gasping for air. The ravers surrounding him, convinced he was dead, all stepped back.

He was back. The music punctured his ear drums. He was freezing but also sweating. His head hurt and his brother was nowhere to be found.