Shout out to cole weaver (guy who wrote the most recent tmagp episode) for writing a case tailor made to haunt me personally.
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It’s become so apparent to me that whenever Katsuki yells at Izuku in seasons 4 or 5 it’s usually a direct result of him getting flustered. If Izuku shows any ounce of caring about Katsuki, of being happy because of or for him there’s is almost always an explosion of shouting in result.
Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t blush when he’s flustered, he yells and blows things up and it’s astounding to me how clear that is in canon. He’s emotionally regulating the only way he knows how. We know his internal landscape is rapidly changing at this point so it makes total sense for him to end up in these situations where he doesn’t know what to do or how to handle or even identify his feelings so he falls back into what’s comfortable just to maintain a little equilibrium
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An idle thought, really, but I think it's interesting to see fandom latch on the metaphorical interpretation of things like Laudna's relationship with Delilah as a metaphor for addiction or Imogen's psychic powers as a metaphor for either chronic pain or queerness, but there's much less attachment to or discussion of the characters who explicitly, canonically dealt with exactly those things. By which I mean Scanlan's substance abuse, Veth's alcoholism, and even Ashton's chronic pain (which feels like it was discussed much more before it was confirmed canon, and seems to be brought up mostly just as ship fodder these days). I suppose one could argue the devotion to the metaphorical interpretations lies in the fact that it's an interpretation of canon as opposed to being explicitly so, meaning there's more wiggle room to project a personal interpretation onto it. Explicit canon is more concrete, less malleable to the individual viewer. Still, if we're going to talk about addiction now in a metaphorical sense via Laudna, it leads me to wonder if we will see further discussion of the characters who explicitly dealt with addiction (Veth and Scanlan), as opposed to Laudna's purported allegorical version of it
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ive been revamping some old headworld Tenebres OCs of mine recently :) their little story revolves around a prestigious magic school that outcasts all of them in different ways.
ethel and juneau (the older ladies) were both once professors and colleagues. ethel taught potionmaking (she’s unsurprisingly a marvelous cook) and juneau excelled everything about in curses (very big on puzzles). juneau was disapproved of for her unconventional methods when it came to cursebreaking which mostly involved inflicting herself with the curses she was trying to break. through enough exposure to that practice in addition to likely a few curses she could never resolve, she now sometimes turns into a mindless beast. consequently shes a risk to students so she got kicked out. after getting fired she takes up being a plague doctor as an occupation which involves cleaning up magic breaches in addition to the stuff shes already good at which is curse removals, just without the funding of her school. its a pretty isolated job so whenever her monsterous side comes out, there arent too many people at risk. she lives in a lil unkempt hermit shack.
ethel was a bit more “by the book,” more of a rule follower, tended never to deviate from standard practice. she never liked or respected juneau and was rather relieved when she finally left, thinking her colleague to be quite the liability to the school. ethel’s field of magic in potions comes with its own different yet similar risks however. and while experimenting with some of her own new concoctions, something went wrong and she began turning into a monster herself. i think with her affliction it’d start as a small blemish that she keeps trying to magically remove/repair and she keeps making it worse which makes her frantic and keep trying fix things until she becomes this irreparable and permanent monster herself. and unwilling to face the same humiliation and rejection as her colleague, ethel fakes her death, making it seem like she died in a chemical explosion of her own making, and flees lol. eventually she seeks out juneau and the two become reluctant roommates in the shack juneau lives in.
and then Agnes the young one was a student whod worked very hard to make it into the school, probably doesnt come from a well-known family or anything but shes top of her class and has high hopes for her future, but one day during an exam in front of her peers and professors it comes to light that she’s (unbeknownst to herself) a familiar as she starts turning into a rabbit. shes expelled on the grounds that she hid her condition and familiars are not allowed to pursue such high forms of magic. in her determination to not fail and still achieve the status shes wanted all her life, she tries to seek out any mage who will teach a familiar any magic. eventually she finds juneau (and ethel by proxy) and the two reluctantly decide to take the familiar girl on as a student.
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How does one become your friend?
honestly I'm so mentally compromised by fatigue today that my answer- I don't know??- sent me into an actual spiral of "do I not know how to be a friend to myself is it a commentary on my psychological health and state of being" sooooo might just have to leave all that aside and go with, uh, try messaging or chatting some way? I'm generally afraid of bothering people, what if they think I'm a creep, but I usually like it when people talk to me and then boom! I, at least, consider us friends- same as most people on here I'd guess. But watch out! I am annoying and unless discouraged will then consider us pals forever if we have two friendly interactions, sorry.
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An incredibly lazy wee doodle of barn swallows since I'm struggling to sleep and going back to my teenage ritual of drawing birds far too late into the night.
Where I live, it will soon be time for the swallows to leave and make their bi-annual 8000 mile migration all the way to South Africa. Summer goes with them, and already my late North European nights seem to be turning dark so soon. A couple of months ago the night would just be a muted blue until dawn would crack with a skylark's song at 3am, and from now it will just be a couple of months until the black sets in before the afternoon ends.
It genuinely makes me want to cry thinking about these matchbox sized little beings throwing themselves into that endless blue all in pursuit of airborne insects, those small bodies making their way over the widening, waterless Sahara, that 40 day excursion that, by mid-October, will be over. How long a journey that seems, how short for a being smaller than my hand.
I'll miss them as much as I'll miss the sun until my late-March birthday comes along again and the spring sky is briefly interrupted by their sudden return, their tumbling bodies celebrating the world waking up again, back - somehow, dare I project a sense of sentiment, remembering - to the very same nests they'd left behind just months ago.
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desperately hugging you after not seeing you for 15+ months as if my body remembered that the thought of this hug had comforted me when i felt cold and imagining helped me feel safe, helped me feel warm, helped me sleep, and still helps me sleep sometimes. is it no wonder i let my mind fantasise about you in a different way now? i don't wish that ever comes out in any interaction with you. but, i know any desire to stay in, develop, and grow that social club will just be an excuse to be around you. i want being there to feel as safe as the imaginary you makes me feel. i do wish you were mine, but i know you were made by hands warmer than mine, and time. someone who was mine, and my age, made by me, would not be of your quality of gold. if i want you, or someone like you, i have no choice but to start by knowing myself better, even if i don't really want to. i guess i have to want to.
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in a few days i shall soon present to you the very personal, likely quite long jewish heinrich faust meta (aka approximately at least 1,000 words worth of me rambling on about how this extremely specific headcanon slots in very well from a thematic standpoint into the plot of goethe's "faust")
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man. I don't think I've ever spent so long on a piece of music because I've never had the motivation to follow through but I'm finally finishing up the writing for this brass quintet and I didn't realize how... significant it would feel to end it? I have friends who can write a 12 minute piece of music in less than a semester. for me it took nearly a year—of both writing and not writing, of crying in front of my parents and one of the best friends and composers I know and my extremely prestigious professor, of struggling to remember why I even chose to do this in the first place and being gently but repeatedly reminded what made me love music when I had been alone with it for so long. I'm not healed. the piece is not finished. it's not even, like, a huge magnum opus that I can really brag about. but I like it, which is more than I can say about most of my work these days, and I'm relatively proud of it. I can confidently say that this is the piece that's seen me through the most and it's going to be a little bit terrifying to end it
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