Ppl who hate Bkg are either unhealed cishet guys or just a bunch of posers that follow "hated one of the week" for likes.
It's just not possible for a normal person to be THIS stupid and not be aware of it, they are 100% doing this on purpose.
Some people just enjoy riding the hate train and that's true (which is applicable to bnha hate in general), but I'm sure that there are ways in which we can talk about what dickheads Bakugou haters tend to be without joining them in ableism land
Often enough it's all a result of toxic masculinity and everything that comes with it 🤷♂️ Bakugou is "threatening" because much of his (male) character is intimately tied to the (male) protagonist in ways that go way beyond simple rivalry and friendship (without their bond ever being defined or alluded to as being familial ⚠️), something which has been acknowledged by multiple characters (All Might, Kirishima, Uraraka, AFO) + some of the roles he fulfils tend to be stereotypically associated with female characters (eg kidnapping victim to be rescued, person who worries for the mc the most, the mc's weakness) + through his growth he embodies the need to accept both other people's strengths and your own vulnerabilities + he doesn't have a (female) love interest to distance him from Midoriya with. All of this + the fact that most of his fans are queer and/or women + "bkdk bad but Midoriya has to be our self insert" = Bakugou is an incarnation of everything that a Man™ shouldn't be and is thus bad
Then add the general tendency to refuse to accept that bnha is very much a manga about Feelings And Emotions + the seemingly initially promised power fantasy of a bullied person overcoming their bully (a perfect hook for projection), and you get things like "Bakugou only stopped bullying Deku because of OFA" (literally untrue), "Bakugou never faced any consequences" (he very much did), "I was bullied and I would have never forgiven Bakugou" (you aren't Midoroya and Bakugou wasn't your bully), etc
I don't think that they're doing this on purpose simply because it's perfectly in line with these kinds of people to go to extreme lengths to deny reality simply because it collides with their cultural background/ideology. Certainly there are also people who just dislike or even hate Bakugou because of his personality alone, but even then disliking a character =/= being able to recognise the role that they play, the importance that they have. Eg with another super misinterpreted character, I don't have many strong feelings for Tomura, but understanding what he stands for is enriching regardless, especially because many other characters I love are tied to him (speaking of. geez I wonder who is the character that is also tied to Tomura who these people deny is tied to Tomura because they hate him). He's essential to the puzzle and to Midoriya's story, just like Bakugou is, and it literally costs me nothing to say this because I don't have a weird complex about it 🤷♂️
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I dont think Mob is naive as much as he's socially unaware, like the reason why he trusts Reigen so blindly is a bit more complex than just him being naive
Cause Mob reached out to Reigen because he was desperate to find someone like him, someone who understood his psychic specific issues, someone that could truly know what he's feeling and going through and give him guidance and support
Post incident Mob's thinking process was something along the lines of my powers hurt people -> my powers are bad -> my powers (my emotions, my instincts, myself) cannot be trusted
So he lost all confidence and trust in his own actions, resigning to being as passive as possible to avoid any further damage to anyone else, thus he started doubting his own perception of reality too
He's a kid already struggling with being ostracised for being socially inept, who just got traumatised and all of his insecurity increased by the tenfold, he doesn't know how to process what he's going through. He needs help.
And here comes Reigen, seemingly reliable, a responsible adult in a child's eyes, someone who claims he can understand him
Even tho Reigen doesnt. But it doesn't matter, because Mob finds comfort in his words and takes them to heart
Even if Reigen doesn't fully get it, even if he doesn't see the bigger picture, even if his advice isn't always the best
Eventually, Mob grows up, realises Reigen isn't as honest as he seemed through his 11 year old perspective, but like most things, he refuses to acknowledge it on a deeper level
Mob knows, but never tells Reigen, never thinks about what all those lies mean to him (ofc until he forces himself to face those doubts regarding Reigen, to properly acknowledge both of their flaws and accept them as they are, I should scream into the void about Confession Arc more God)
Due to his lack of trust in himself, Mob has relied on Reigen for years now to shape his moral compass, his thoughts, his decisions
Because well, Reigen lies, sure, but he isnt a bad person. When he hurts Mob, it isn't intentional or with ill intent, he still wants the best for him, what's the issue?
Except that it stunts Mob's growth. He doesn't develop as a person, doesn't have goals or wishes or ambitions, can't make choices on his own, he doesn't even let himself acknowledge his own emotions, he refuses to let himself exist
But Mob realises in time that he wants more than that, he wants to become better and be independent and feel again
Still, he puts the acknowledgement of the lies on hold for as long as he can, unwilling to question the way things are
This can make him feel a little naive, he constantly relies on Reigen and trusts his decisions and raises questions rarely until separation arc when he finally puts his foot down
And I do think that moment is the most resounding proof we have that Mob knows and allows himself to be used by Reigen, not wanting to shake the status quo, until he gets fed up
I mentioned the social ineptitude at the beggining but idk if I should even elaborate on that, you've watched the show, you know what I mean
He's blunt and can't read social cues or tonality that well and can't speak in front of crowds and is overall pretty awkward and I do think some people conflate that with naivety
Mob is still a child, he doesnt fully understand how the world works at the ripe age of 14 years old, but some folks take that as him being inherently naive/innocent/whatever which I don't find true
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3. taxi
oh man, this one FOUGHT me y'all. so much cutting and pasting. I am not even kidding when I say that everything that happens in this chapter was supposed to be part of the last one, and I gave up and cut that one off early because I was sick of trying to finish this part. and now this is my longest chapter yet. you know, out of all three of them. at 1.3k. lol. I am not, how do you say, fast. but I was hoping I'd be able to get a chapter written over christmas, and I'm really proud of myself for finishing it!
Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, cage mention, rampant classism. As always, please tell me if there's anything else I need to tag.
[masterlist] [chapter two] [chapter four]
“Okay I know they’re supposed to be expensive but what can you possibly be charging this much money for.”
“Adoption fees are to offset the cost of room, board and medical care while at the facility,” the employee parrots, without so much as the decency to look ashamed.
“He does not look like he has had literally any of those things while he’s been here. Or possibly in his entire life.”
“Ma’am, if you cannot afford the adoption fee, then you cannot adopt a Pet.”
“Oh, I can afford it,” Vanessa growls, handing over a very shiny credit card before her mouth can get her in enough trouble to stop the employee from taking it. She bites her lip until she tastes copper to keep from saying, I’d just rather put it towards something that isn’t blatantly and obviously going right back into Worldwide Rehabilitative Un-fucking-limited’s pockets despite the fact that this is supposed to be a goddamn government facility.
Harm reduction, she reminds herself. Paying extortionate fees to kill shelters is still harm reduction. It’s the unsavory truth, but it doesn’t make the blood in her mouth taste any sweeter.
“Sign here,” the woman says, handing her credit card back along with a digital pad and stylus, and Vanessa cracks her wrist before she takes them. It’s sore and snapping like a glowstick from the mountain of paperwork she’s already been made to sign since the employee unceremoniously hauled the man on the floor behind her down from his double-high-stacked wire crate. She can’t decide whether to consider it an obscenely large amount, or an obscenely little one for all that it represents.
She can’t think about it too hard. Can’t draw too much of her own attention to the fact that she’s really doing this, or she might just run screaming back out into the grey-tinted autumn afternoon, and then where would this guy be?
She scribbles her name on the touchpad, and just like that… it’s done.
—
“Don’t forget your leash and collar,” the employee reminds her.
“I won’t be using those,” Vanessa says, with all the imperious rich-lady self-assurance she can fake.
“You will if you don’t want to be liable for civil and/or criminal penalties up to and including the permanent forfeiture of your right to Pet ownership,” the woman drones like she’s rattling it off from a handbook, and nobody has the right to own a person but even Vanessa knows better than to argue the system with someone who literally works for it.
She grinds her teeth as she takes the lengths of bulky blue nylon from the woman. She crouches beside the man, who’s bent himself into an odd kneeling fetal position on the cold tile floor. “Sorry,” she whispers as she slides the coarse material around his throat, feeling his pulse beat harsh and rapid underneath. She hopes she’s being quiet enough that the employee won’t hear her talking to him like a person—because he is a person, goddamnit—but she knows better than to trust her own volume. Best if she can get the fuck out of here with him now, before she makes a mistake.
She really doesn’t want to lead this dude crawling down the street like an animal. Doesn’t want to imagine what people will think. But she asks him, “Can you stand?”, and he makes a sound like a choking dog, and so much for both their dignity, she fucking guesses.
“Ugh, fine, whatever, just… come on.”
—
Fuck standing, the guy can barely support himself on all fours. His joints threaten to buckle at every step as Vanessa urges him out onto the chilly sidewalk. Coat of dirt aside, he’s got nothing on him but a pair of boxers as filthy as he is and that godawful blue collar, and when his bare skin meets the frigid pavement his body clenches so hard she can practically hear his teeth slam shut.
She looks at the unwashed man before her, shivering hard enough to rattle his bones in the cold October air. Looks at her thick brown coat. Ugh, she likes this coat, the lining is stitched in in all the right places to keep the texture of the shell from making her want to climb out of her own skin and no amount of dry cleaning in the world is going to convince her to put it on again once it touches… whatever the fuck is all goddamn over this guy. She sighs and shrugs it off.
Fuck fuck fuck it’s cold. She’s shivering herself in just plain blue jeans and her second favorite Cure t-shirt. But a million “if you’re cold, they’re cold!” memes flash through her mind and she grumbles aggrievedly and drapes the wool coat over his massive, gaunt frame. This dude has like a foot on her standing, she remembers when the lapels will barely pull around his shoulders. She’s gonna have to shake Austin down for clothes.
God, it feels beyond fucked up to have a person on a leash, and it doesn’t help that the cheap blue nylon feels plasticky in her hand and she hates the texture. She can’t imagine how much worse it must feel around the throat of the shuddering man before her. She’s taking the damn thing off him as soon as she gets him home, she’ll get him a better one if Roselle can’t find her a loophole and she absolutely fucking has to, but when the fifth or sixth cab passes her by without even slowing down she starts to wonder how the hell she’s going to get him home at all.
—
“You want to go to the corner,” the employee says boredly, not so much as looking up from her newspaper when Vanessa shoulders her way back through the door.
“You what?” Vanessa echoes.
“The corner. Better if you go another block or two, even. Cabs don’t stop in front of the shelter.”
Of course they don’t, Vanessa thinks.
She hipchecks the door back open and returns to the stupid goddamn hitching post they so conveniently provide along the front wall of the shelter, where she’s awkwardly strung up the loop of the stupid blue leash. “Hey, uh, dude? I’m gonna go up the street a bit, okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
He barely acknowledges that he’s heard her, curled back up under her coat in that same odd position with his forearms tucked into his chest. “...not that you would,” she adds dubiously, before power-walking away to the next block.
Vanessa hisses through her teeth in the bleak grey air and rubs at her goosebump-riddled arms, but true to the employee’s disaffected word it’s only a matter of minutes this time before a cab driver catches her wave and pulls over. “Thanks,” she says as she tumbles in. “I’m going back to the Heights. Need to pick someone up first, though. Just on the next block.”
The driver looks skeptical, but he rolls down the quiet street all the same—until he clocks the shelter just as Vanessa tells him to stop. “No. Nuh uh. No way. I don’t let Pets in my cab.”
“I’ll double your fare. Up front.”
The driver shakes his head, staring revulsed in the direction of the hitching post. “Not worth all that crud on my seats.” Oh. Great. He’s seen him.
“What if I cover the seats. Newspaper.”
The driver sizes her up with a calculating gaze, one elbow propped on the back of his seat, and somewhere in the middle of wanting to punch him for looking at her she finds herself wishing for once that she’d dressed… richer. Finally, he grouses, “Triple fare. And the meter’s runnin’ while ya cover ‘em.”
“Fine,” Vanessa spits, and sprints out with the door wide open before he has time to change his mind.
She barges into the shelter one last time, hopefully the last fucking time in her life if she has any say in it. Leaning over the counter, with a grin that’s probably a little too smug for her to be proud of, she snatches the newspaper directly out of the apathetic employee’s complicit hands.
-
taglist: @maracujatangerine @pigeonwhumps @tragedyinblue @marchtothefuckingsea @octopus-reactivated @briars7
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