So while I was raking leaves today I was thinking that as much as Bakugou bullying Izuku and later redeeming himself is an integral part of canon, it could be improved upon. I’ve always been a fan of AUs where Bakugou is exactly the same personality wise but he stayed friends with Izuku and is his biggest supporter.
Basically baby Katsuki looked between his best friend in the whole wide world who just got diagnosed as quirkless and the prejudices of society and took Izuku’s side. And because this boy doesn’t do anything by halves he is so ride or die. Izuku trains his mind and body, he and Katsuki hang out constantly and make plans for their future agency, they spar together until they’re both formidable fighters. You can obviously insert canon in here which would be the same only Izuku a) starts out buff b) has a bit more confidence/self worth and c) All Might has to deal with an angry Pomeranian barking at him not to hurt Izuku 24/7. Aizawa clocks them as the class’s disaster duo within 5 seconds of meeting them and he’s not wrong but he underestimates the trouble they can get into.
Me, being me, I was playing with it today in my quirkless verse. They both get into Yuuei, Bakugou in Heroics and Izuku in Gen Ed. Katsuki would be hissing and sneering at his classmates for “stealing Deku’s spot” and it’s annoying but also kind of cute. They hear a lot about this Deku person, he’s tactically brilliant and a dirty fighter and doesn’t need a quirk to pound Katsuki into the ground. They’re shaking, imaging like a 7′ demonic beast. Only one day, the door to 1-A opens and its this sweet boy with curls and freckles and the friendliest smile like “Kacchan, you left your school books at my house again :)” And they collectively lose their shit that THIS is Deku. Then they watch him and Bakugou spar and its like, oh okay then, I am Afraid again.
Anyway, point being, I still think we could have had a compelling, interesting story if Bakugou was still his kind of douchey self but at the same time was Izuku’s best friend and biggest hype man.
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Apart from movies/series, what would you say is your favourite art medium? It could be digital, traditional, or a combination of these.
Well, I love a good book just as much as the next person with Harlan Ellison, Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, and Tolkien being some of my favorite authors. But I also have a very strong love for vinyl records and collect them.
I've got John Denver, Queen, ABBA, ELO, and some soundtracks like Guardians of the Galaxy and Minecraft, but the two displayed in this picture are my pride and joy. They're both from 1966 and are in incredible condition, even playing better than the ones I bought online (these two are from a thrift store). Not to mention that these two artists mean a lot to me: Tom Lehrer is one of my favorite comedic songwriters and Jim Nabors is not only a gay icon to me but was also born close to where I'm from. I've got some new vintage records I've got to pick up from my grandparents house as well, stuff like Hank Williams and Buck Owens as well as a non-vintage Credence Clearwater Revival.
And of course, I'd never forgive myself if I didn't mention my love for Appalachian folk art. Dollywood is a well-loved vacation destination for my family, and although I love the rides and the cinnamon bread (that shit is like CRACK I swear to god it's so good), one of my favorite things about that place is the Craftsman's Valley. They let you see things like glassblowing, woodcarving, and ironworks among other things, but where there's pottery now they used to have a wagon station that used to be my grandfather's favorite since he breaks horses and drives wagons. Here's some pictures of what it used to look like:
Unfortunately I'm too young to remember that specific station, but I've spent hours watching the glassblowing and ironworks. It's genuinely mesmerizing and helps me feel a lot closer to my culture and have a newfound appreciation for it every time I see it.
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Hope you will enjoy this ^^ This is set in druid Anwen’s verse, as you shall see and can be read as a continuation to this fic ^^
(A little something I had written during the holiday season and felt like posting now 🥰 Originally promoted by @i-mybrunettelady from the Wintersday prompts ❄)
Quick summary : Anwen usually makes evergreen and holly grow for Wintersday but this year all she manages to bloom are mint and mulberry.
Wintersday miracle - A speck of life in the realm of death
The manor stood high on the hill, garlands and lanterns hanging from the windows ledge and ornamenting the pediment of the house. The Faren's winter's ball was an event looked forward to by everyone, the young and old, meek and the bold.
The party would start in a matter of hours and the household was buzzing with effervescence, masters and staff rushing about to prepare for the soirée. In the reception room, the servants busied themselves with the latest accommodations, a change in the traditional decoration of the hall — holly and evergreen noticeably amiss, as they were replaced by dark emerald leaves and coiling thorns of mint and mulberry. A touch of colour, in the shape of unripe blackberries, and a shimmer of fantasy in that of a few gold trimmed pine-cones were added in hope to make best of the unusual situation. A speck of light in the darkest hours of the year, the triumph of life in the realm of death.
Every year, Lady Anwen bloomed the decorations the very morning of the ball — evergreen, holly, mistletoe — and oversaw their arrangements for the rest of the day before it was finally time for her to don a dress for one of her infamously brief appearance at the party.
But this year, despite her best efforts nothing would bloom under her touch but these two plants.
Mint and mulberry.
Virtue and death.
Wisdom and self-sacrifice.
Poets would deem that the darkness of Orr still clung to her, or that perhaps her heart lingered on these distant shores...
"My dear daughter...", Lady Violet smiled, her eyes glistening knowingly, as Anwen ruffled the garland on the chandelier for the fifth time in a row, and, with a flick of her wrist, tried to bloom yet another ornament, only to be met with more emerald leaves exhaling fresh peppermint. "You really needn't trouble yourself... You simply have love on your mind."
The young woman almost tore her gown stumbling off the ladder she was perched upon.
She did have someone on her mind, someone who had expressed his regrets and declined the invitation, staying with the men in garrison at Fort Trinity. The post had surely been delivered by now, and she hoped he would like the content of the parcel she had sent this very morning. But surely the fact that her heart tightened in her chest when, despite all reason, she looked towards the threshold in hope to see him whenever someone pushed the door, had nothing to do with...
Love...
The night was dark and the spirits high when Anwen arrived at Caer Aval, leaving the strong scent of liquor and the sound of celebration far behind when she noticed the visible absence of the one person she sought.
She took in a deep, shaking breath, willing the trembling of her hand to still before she knocked on the metal door, thanking the cold air whipping the fort from over the bay for an excuse to justify her tremors.
The door cracked open, revealing a most surprised face.
"Commander..."
"Happy Wintersday, Marshal. I... apologize for intruding like this, I know you weren't expecting me..."
"I am always happy to see you, friend. What do I owe the pleasure?”
“I-... I received an unexpected gift tonight... some clarity... Wintersday is a time we're meant to spend with those we hold closest to our heart. And I realised there was nowhere else I wanted to be and no one else I wanted to be with..."
She willed to hold his gaze, a shiver running her through as he stepped forth, the cold nipping at her exposed shoulders all but forgotten in the warmth of his smile and the shimmering glow enlightening his features, setting her heart ablaze.
"And there is no one I hold dearest, Anwen."
The sharp whistle of a kettle shattered the moment. She let out a breathless chuckle and melted in his arms as he pulled her in a tender embrace.
"You must be cold. Can I offer you some tea?"
She nodded slowly, basking in the warmth of his glow and the scent of mint and mulberry. "Tea would be lovely."
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This is embarrassing, but I have a hard time remembering that other people apparently Do Not LIKE It when you psychoanalyze them. Like, it pisses them off.
I struggle with this because I...enjoy it......I actually really DO like it when I express confusion over Why I Am Feeling A Certain Way Or Feeling Compelled To Do A Certain Thing and someone responds with Psychology Trivia that answers that question. I FIND HUMAN BRAINS FASCINATING AND I HAVE ONE...my own human brain is no exception to that, I am absolutely okay with analyzing it too...psychology...cool......psychology enlightening.......psychology reassuring??
But, like, IN GENERAL it seems that if someone says something like “Ugh god I hate it that I get SO ANTSY whenever someone speaks in like that certain tone of voice that guy just used, it’s so frustrating that something dumb like that makes me so nervous hhhrgh why does it keep happening I hate it it is making me look twitchy and dumb for no reason,” they do NOT want me to cheerfully chip in like “You’ve mentioned to me before that your mother usually spoke that way to you to indicate that you were in trouble for something, but when she didn’t want to raise her voice -- or her hand -- at you yet because there were other people present. So you’ve learned to associate that tone with being shouted at and punished, and possibly physically harmed, in the near future. Your brain is now interpreting it as a warning sign that you are in danger, so it’s trying to protect you by making you want to get away from whoever it feels has just designated themself as a threat by speaking to you in that way. Don’t beat yourself up over it, it’s happening for what was initially a very good reason -- your subconscious is trying to keep you safe, it wants to help you but it just doesn’t know the difference between your mother using that voice as a threat and someone else using that voice in just casual conversation, because why would it? You spent so long only ever hearing someone speak that way when you were about to be terrorized.”
They like...feel attacked and get really mad? A lot. I’m just trying to help because I like it when people do the same for me, but my viewpoint seems to be Not The Popular Opinion On This Behaviour?
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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader
cw: non-graphic mentions of violence, suggestive bit at the end lmk if u want an nsfw of this!!
ok but imagine shy lil missus o'hara who's a stay at home wife while miguel goes off to either alchemax or to fight some bad guys
and miguel comes home stressed all the time but just a touch of her hand on his shoulder grounds him after all that fighting
and miguel is tired but happy, grateful for his little love taking such good care of him :)) giving you a forehead kiss before he goes off to the bathroom, settling in the perfectly warm bath prepared for him before indulging in his little wife's amazing cooking
but one night when he comes home a little bit more tense than usual
she's very tense
she's heard him yelling at his subordinates over the phone and yelling at dumb-ass cops who get in the way of him stopping some thief
and while miguel has always been soft and kind and gentle with her, she's scared that she'll accidentally do something wrong :((
so miguel walks past her, exhausted, and almost smiles at the smell of dinner
no forehead kiss for her :(( poor baby
sitting at the dining table head in his hands as he mumbles about not getting the chance to grab a snack, let alone a break in spanish
and she knows he's hungry, but she knows his whole body will be aching if he doesn't take a bath to regulate his body temperature
but poor baby doesn't know how to say it without him possibly snapping at her :((
she's standing on the other side of the table nervously fidgeting with the dish towel and finding the right words to say
"y-you... you gotta t-take a bath f-first..."
miguel sighs into his hands. "i know, but im really hungry, cariño..."
"b-but... if you don't... you'll be s-sore..."
he looks up, brows furrowing. "what?"
he was genuinely confused why you seemed so scared of him, but his voice came out a bit more bluntly than he meant it to.
your eyes widen and you look down. "n-nothing," you mumble, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "sorry."
"hey, hey, baby..." miguel stands up, walking over to you and pulling you into his arms. "what's wrong? did i say something?"
"no..." you sniffle, "jus thought i made you mad..."
"no, no, no, i'm not mad," he kisses all over u: your teary eyes, your wobbling lips, your forehead, the tip of ur nose
miguel kisses you deeply and then hugs you close to him. "im not mad, i promise. i'm just so so tired and hungry and the food smelled so good i'm gonna die if i don't get to taste it," he whispers, laughing when you giggle at his declaration.
"the bath can wait," he caresses your cheek with his hand.
"b-but you're gonna get cramps tomorrow if-"
he cuts you off with a big smooch to your face. "it doesn't matter. im staying home tomorrow."
"wh-what?!" you look up at him as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. "but you have work- and- and you're spiderman- and-"
he shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair.
"i'm your husband first, and all that other shit second."
miguel sighs, pulling you closer.
"i know i haven't been taking care of you the way i should be."
before you can interject about how he's doing so much already, he presses a finger against your lips.
"ssh. and alchemax and the cops don't really give a shit about me, can probably last every other day without me there. they'd probably have a field day without this jackass there," he chuckles. "but you, baby, i need to return the favor- ah, ah! let me finish, gatita- return the favor for keeping this place a safe space for me."
a kiss here, a kiss there. "entiendes?"
you nod, hugging him. "just glad you're home," you mumble, nuzzling into his neck.
he spends the rest of that hour enjoying the food you made for him while also feeding you and rattling all about the thugs he stopped that day.
then he pulls you into the bath with him, despite your protests, and laughs as he splashes you with the soapy water, making you squeal and threaten to spray him with the shower nozzle
then the two of you dry up and snuggle in bed, not bothering to put on any clothes. miguel smiles down at you and you smile up at him, before he rolls you on your back and crawls over you to make the sweetest yet roughest love to show you just how thankful he is for having a sweet lil thing like u to come home to <3
(part 2 is here~)
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