#MHA Dabi

[dynamicsandparadoxes]

ZAMN 👅👅👅👅👅👅👅 he’s looking a little TOO good in this art

A little dabs for 💟 day

[myheromedia]

New merchandise illustration

[seneon]

grunge dabi x a MEAN coquette little gf pls ??!?!!?

★ SUGAR AND SPICE ( GRUNGE¡DABI )

"he asked for more sugar," you said, a brow raised with a hand on your hips as you held a cup of fresh coffee out. the scent drips into your nostrils as dabi's hands are stuffed into his pocket. "yeah, i asked for—"

"shut up baby."

the said boy immediately shuts up, listening to his pretty girl practically painted in pink and white hues bossing for more sugar in his coffee as dark as his soul. such polar opposite dabi is... compared to his girlfriend.

a pink coquette and a black grunge. it's exactly like a regal fluffy cat and a feral guard dog.

so he remains silent and watched as you demand more sugar, causing the worker to quickly fill the cup with sugar with just the right quantity. seems even the worker has no intentions to displease you further.

not even uttering a word of thanks, you walked away, lacing your fingers with dabi as you handed him his coffee and took your own beverage. dabi hums in appreciation at how he didn't have to express his own displeasure when he has you around.

he moves to press an uncharacteristically soft kiss at your temple, earning a glare from you. a smile threatens to escape the corner of your lips though, and dabi knows it. he sees it and sees the way you try to cover the softness in you by being so bratty and bitchy.

"come on, pretty. don't be so spicy. you're supposed to be the sweetie here," dabi muses with sarcasm and sips his daily dose of caffeine that you're oh so familiar with.

"no. that stupid twinky counter guy got your order wrong. he deserves to be castrated," you rolled your eyes and held his hands tighter.

"it's just sugar."

"didn't ask, shut it."

"my lips are sealed for you, sugar," he held his hand up, the coffee shaking in his grasp. if anything, he's absolutely smitten with you. completely adoring the way you'd be fussing and defending him as if he hasn't thought of shutting your bratty mouth up in many possible ways.

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[dabislittlemouse]

WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED

[angelhqloo]

Mha wallpapers I made for bigger phones

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

[sableuhfin]

Some drawings i made for a comic talking about abuse with the todoroki plotline as an example.

[lakesidepurple]

mha textposts but some of them are sad part 5!!!!

previous part first part

[majoryeager104]

Okay so I’m a huge Touya (and Keigo but this isn’t about him rn) fan and I’m delusional about him. There’s this scenario I’ve been thinking about a lot and like I NEED someone to write it before I lose it. Reader helping Touya redo his staples after he asks. And like, after they do the new staple, kissing it?? I DON’T KNOW IF THIS IS WEIRD OR NOT ITS JUST BEEN WHAT IM THINKING ABOUT AND IF I CANT READ THIS SOON I WILL EXPLODE also I just found your page and omg I love it all sm <3

GAWSHHHHHH I NEED THIS TOO WHAT UR A GENIUS <3 AND IM SO GLAD U LIKE MY PAGE HEHEHEHEH X3

warning: blood and language obv

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Touya had come back late again, the door of your apartment clicking open sometime after midnight. You’d heard him, but didn’t expect him to make much noise, that is until he nudged you awake.

“hey babe, ‘m sorry but can you help me out? I’m kind of having a situation here”

his gruff voice pierced through your sleepy mind and you blinked a few times, but nodded, sitting up. Your room was dark, and so you couldn’t exactly see this ‘situation’, at least not until he’d gently pulled you by your hand into the bathroom where he flicked on the light, and lo and behold, his mouth was practically hanging open, blood trickling down his scarred cheeks, staples long gone and ripped out.

Now you were wide awake, gasping in shock. All he did was give you a sheepish smile as he held his jaw shut with his free hand. With his damaged his face already was, it was a miracle that his masseter was still in tact enough for him to move his mouth to speak, but he wouldn’t dare risk making it worse. He pulled his hand from yours to grab the stapler on the edge of the counter, waving it as he raised his eyebrows, silently asking for your assistance.

You sighed and nodded, grabbing some towels to clean up the blood, before sitting him down on the toilet seat as you knelt in front of him. You dabbed away the blood on his face, cleaning it with a towel you’d gotten wet before grabbing the cheap stapler he’d brought with him and holding it to his face. You looked worried, your brow creased as you looked at him. He merely shrugged, speaking up “it doesn’t hurt.”

Feeling a bit better about it after that, you began, flinching each time you pushed a staple in. It was more time consuming than you’d thought it would be, more than you’d wished, even, because you’d never expected to have to put staples on your boyfriends mouth, and yet here you were.

While you’d flinch, you also felt a certain tug in your stomach, as your eyes scanned over the staples. How many times has he had to do this by himself? Why did he have to do this? The more you thought of his situation, stapling his mouth was less of a disgusting or scary chore and more of a sad one. So much so that you didn’t even notice the prevalent furrow of your brow, or the sadness that had entered your gaze.

Touya, on the other hand, did. His blue eyes scanned yours, almost as if he knew what you were thinking. The only thing he’d told you about his old life was his name, but in moments like this he wished he’d said so much more, wished he could. Instead he just bit his tongue and let you finish putting him back together again.

But once you’d placed the last staple on his cheek, you did something he didn’t expect. You smeared away the excess blood on his face with the wet towel, and then placed a little kiss on the thin strip of metal now clasped firmly to his face. It was a simple gesture, really, but it was also so, so intimate, at least to Touya. You’d just seen him literally torn up, had to put staples through his face, and now you were kissing him.

The scars taking up the majority of his face certainly couldn’t hide the blush that crawled over his pale skin as you looked up at him afterwards, and offered him a smile. He felt so…vulnerable.

and he liked it.

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SOMEONE SEDATE ME IM BLUSHING SO HARD RN OMG THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST I HOPE YOU KNOW ILL BE DREAMING ABOUT THIS LATER

[leahrintarou]

✬ HOUSEMATES W/ DABI

synopsis: you and dabi are housemates. warnings: swearing, gender neutral reader, dabi being a pain in the ass but also a little sweet. an: hiii :D i hope you enjoy reading. i thought of this last minute and forced my brain to conjure up some silly texts :3

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likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

got a request in mind? send it in! :)

[cosmic-evening]

ᯓ★ enigma

college au!dabi x gn!reader

a/n: reader is roommates with toga! also dabi & reader both study literature bc i said so

mha m.list | gen m.list

DABI was known as the 'enigma' around the college.

he was in your year, and you'd heard all the stories about him in high school. everyone either had a crush on him or was intimidated by him—or both. he was the enigma—no one knew what course he did or how he even got into this college. you almost never saw him around campus, except when you finish you lecture, when you could see him sitting on the bench outside your classroom.

you never talked to him. you never needed to.

until he finally showed up to your literature lecture.

it's monday morning, and you're still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, when he steps into the classroom. you're shocked when you see him walk in, and you can't help but stare. it had been two months since you'd started this course; how had you never noticed him in your lecture?

he glances at you as he walks in, but takes a seat at the very back of the classroom.

there's a twinge of something in your gut that feels a little bit like disappointment. don't be silly, you think. why would he even think about sitting next to you?

throughout the lecture, you feel someone's eyes on you the entire time.

you don't think too much about the encounter until a week later.

your roommate, toga, had some friends who were throwing a flat party, and she desperately wanted you to come.

"please, y/n? it'll be fun, i promise. it's the weekend, we don't have anything better to do anyway."

and really, you think, how bad can it be?

so you show up, in a semi-fancy outfit, hair deemed 'perfect' by toga, not knowing quite what to expect.

as soon as you enter the flat, your eyes immediately latch onto one person.

dabi.

he was looking at you already, and made no effort to hide it. unsure of what to do, you smile at him.

he smirks back, and lifts a hand in greeting.

but the interaction is short-lived; before you can fully process what's happened, toga's already dragging you away to meet her friends.

so much for that, then.

whoever planned a literature lecture at 8am on monday morning must be a sadist.

you're still in a state of half-delusion, still waking up, before you realise that someone's decided to sit next to you.

from the corner of your eye, you see dyed black hair and a leather jacket.

you stiffen slightly.

there's no way. you knew you should have gotten more sleep last night.

"everything alright, doll?"

his voice is scratchy, like he's just woken up too.

you panic.

"i— uh, yeah, i'm alright, i just didn't know you took this class—"

shut up, you think. you decide right then and there that you should never speak again.

dabi laughs.

you'd never seen dabi laugh before. not without mockery.

but this?

he sounded full of mirth.

and you decide right then and there that you would cherish the sound forever.

dabi opens his mouth to speak, but the teacher had already walked in.

then you feel that twinge of disappointment again.

for some inexplicable reason, you start to notice dabi everywhere. suddenly, he's not just sitting outside the classroom after your lecture, but in the class too. he's showing up at parties, studying in the library, hanging out on campus more and more. suddenly, dabi has a social life.

you start seeing him at every party toga drags you to. every time, it's the same: he smirks at you, raises a hand in greeting, and then disappears for the rest of the night.

it confused you.

why was it that he'd hidden from everyone for so long? why now is he making his presence known?

he really was an enigma.

no, you think. he's a different type of enigma now.

before, he was an unknown. back then, you were questioning who he was. but now, after he's started hanging out with the other students, you're starting to question his intentions.

every literature lecture, dabi would slide into the seat next to you. you'd exchange some words before class. it ranged from the books you were studying to your plans for the day. and on monday mornings, right before the worst lecture time on earth, dabi would hand you a steaming cup of your order from the café across the campus.

and little by little, you start to learn little things about dabi.

like that one time he told you his favourite food was soba. or the other time he told you his birthday was in january. or the time he showed up to class, a little too quiet for your liking, and told you about his dad.

and slowly, but surely, dabi becomes less and less of an enigma to you.

the final step of the puzzle—your puzzle, the one you've been mystified by since the start—is given to you one monday morning.

dabi's not there, but you're not surprised; he tends to get to class later than you do. what did surprise you, though, was the rose and note that sat on your desk.

dearest y/n, i know that we haven't known each other for that long, and i know that sometimes, you're still confused by me. i see it in your eyes when i sit next to you in class, or when i catch your eye at a party—your gaze is calculating. i feel like every time you look at me, you've figured out a secret of mine. like you know something about me that even i don't. you feel like you've only known me for a short time; i feel like i've known you much longer. i feel like i've known you since the day of the first literature lecture; when i saw you from the window into the classroom and couldn't find the courage to go in. because you're so insanely beautiful, y/n. i felt intimidated by you—the only thought in my head at the time was 'what if you hated me?' and i was too much of a coward to find out the answer. in fact, i was so much of a coward that i couldn't find the bravery to step into that classroom until two months later. and then i got to know you. you're so incredibly smart and eloquent and so interesting to talk to. you made me want to be just as intelligent or expressive or as delightful as you, and when i thought i could never be, your words gave me motivation. so i guess what i've beeing trying to say is—i really like you, y/n. you're the first person who's ever made me feel like this, and i'd really like to take you out to the café across from campus tonight, if you'd let me. or any time you'd like. yours, dabi

when you look up, dabi's standing by the door. he's nervous, you can tell—his hands are fidgeting with his backpack strap, and his smile is a little wobbly.

when you nod, his beam is blinding.

you've solved your enigma.

[umbrelladripdrop]

Dabi is so the type of guy who wears a tank top and shorts in negative degree weather both 'cause he just can because of his quirk and also to make those around him look at him like he's crazy. They're right but that's not the point.

He is also the type of guy to wear three layers of dark black heavy material in the middle of summer because quote "I look good in leather and the weather can go fuck itself."

[johtoes]

♯┆𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: On a rooftop soaked in city lights and bad decisions, a shared cigarette with Dabi blurs the line between recklessness and desire. Maybe it’s the nicotine—maybe it’s him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dabi x Reader

𝐰��𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: alcohol use, nicotine use

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 700

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

The night is hazy, thick with the scent of alcohol and the distant hum of city life. Neon lights bleed into the darkness, casting everything in a moody glow. Your head is light, your limbs heavy, a strange contradiction of sensation that tells you you’ve had just enough to drink to make bad decisions seem like good ones.

Dabi leans against the railing of the rooftop, a cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers. The orange ember flares to life as he takes a slow drag, his expression unreadable beneath the dim light. He looks at you then, those piercing blue eyes locking onto yours with an amusement that makes your stomach twist.

“You ever tried one?” he asks, exhaling smoke in a slow, deliberate stream.

You shake your head, a drunken giggle escaping your lips. “Nope. Never had the urge.”

He smirks, tilting his head slightly. “Bet you’d like it.”

There’s something about the way he says it, something low and knowing, that makes your skin prickle. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s him, but you suddenly feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

“Let me try,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Dabi raises a brow but doesn’t argue. Instead, he takes another drag, then holds the cigarette out to you between his scarred fingers. “Alright. Don’t choke.”

You take it from him, fingers brushing his in the exchange, and bring it to your lips. The filter is warm from his mouth, and for some reason, that thought alone sends a thrill down your spine. You inhale, and immediately, everything shifts.

The nicotine hits you like a freight train. A rush of heat blooms in your chest, spreading outward in an intoxicating wave. It makes your head spin, makes your fingers tingle, makes your whole body feel like it’s caught fire from the inside out.

“Shit,” you exhale, voice breathy as smoke slips from your lips.

Dabi chuckles, watching you with a sharp, knowing gaze. “Yeah. That’s the good stuff.”

Your legs feel weak, and you lean against the railing for support, heartbeat drumming in your ears. The sensation is overwhelming, a slow burn that curls around your senses and refuses to let go. It feels reckless, intoxicating—just like him.

You take another drag, slower this time, letting the smoke settle in your lungs before exhaling. The dizziness intensifies, a delicious kind of haze that leaves you lightheaded and wanting more. Your gaze flickers to Dabi, and suddenly, you don’t know if it’s the cigarette making you feel this way or if it’s him.

“Be careful,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “It’s easy to get addicted.”

His voice is low, rough, and you can’t tell if he’s talking about the nicotine or something else entirely. He reaches out, plucking the cigarette from your fingers and bringing it back to his lips, like he’s reclaiming something that was never really yours to begin with.

Your chest tightens. It should feel unfair, the way he so easily takes control, but instead, it leaves you breathless.

“What if I already am?” you ask, the words slipping past your lips before you can think better of them.

Dabi smirks, stepping even closer, so close you can see the way the embers of his cigarette reflect in his eyes. “Guess you’re fucked then.”

You don’t know if he means the cigarette or him.

Maybe both.

The thought lingers between you, thick as the smoke curling in the air. He watches you, searching for something in your expression, and whatever he finds makes his smirk fade just slightly. Just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something deeper, something unreadable.

Then, just as quickly, he turns away, flicking the cigarette over the railing with a careless flick of his fingers. The ember arcs through the air before vanishing into the night, leaving only the lingering scent of smoke and the warmth of his body so close to yours.

“Come on,” he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets as he starts walking toward the stairwell. “We should get out of here before you do something even stupider.”

You hesitate for only a second before following, your pulse thrumming in your veins. Because the truth is, you already have.

And you’re pretty sure it has nothing to do with the cigarette.

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

𝐚/𝐧: I know I said I don’t post on weekends but I’m bored 🥹✌️

[lura-valentine]

–>Pose by: the pose archives – Twitter/X (I hadn't worked with templates like this in a while 👉👈)

Do you feel what the tree felt?

I can feel it 😅

Image from the anime My Hero Academia

[justmylvr]

lock and key.

band au!touya todoroki x gn reader.

a/n: I LOVE THIS !! DONTTRUSTME by 3OH!3 was a huge inspiration. it does get a little nsfw.

you were all too familiar with this area. the smell of sweat and weed filled your nose, bringing your already hazy mind to a place of nostalgia. you and touya broke up three weeks ago, he didn't say much about why though. so what better to do than to show up at his gig?

he would always come back to this place, the first time he ever got a real audience. that night was clear in your mind: the smudged eyeshadow under his eyes, the way his gaze always found its way back to you, how he sang a little louder during the more romantic songs. you two had matching necklaces: one decorated with a small key charm and the other a lock. you didn't have the strength to take it off yet, especially not after it had remained there for years.

you weaved through the crowds, your fingers reaching for the bar to find something stable. a sweet smile flashed at the bartender helped him remember exactly who you were so it made ordering easier. once you got your drink, gently swirling it with one of those neon pink straws. you finally made your way to the stage, or atleast infront of it. your fingers ran over the initials carved into the stage floor, jagged but done with love, as he intended. though you stepped back quickly, not trying to be entirely noticed immediately.

maybe fifteen minutes later, they all appeared on stage, touyas eyes searching the crowd. a small part of you hoped that maybe he was looking for you like he used to. he hadn't noticed you yet, talking to the crowd like he always did when everybody was getting comfortable. as he walked around the stage, paying attention to different areas of the crowd, you couldn't help but notice what he was wearing. not his clothing but he still had the necklace on, just like you did. the lock was obvious, small but obvious.

sometime through the show, he found his voice quiet when he sang the song he wrote for you. a sort of longing tinged his lyrics, his eyes looking through the crowd. as if everybody had moved away from you, singling you out, he found you. a small, genuine smile graced his face. it wasn't very noticeable behind a microphone but when you heard his voice get slightly louder, more confident, you knew.

the show ended after an hour and a half, people waiting outside with hopes of meeting the band. not you, though. he knew where you'd be. appearing at your side with an almost superhuman speed, your lips were caught in a kiss you couldn't deny. his hand held you gently despite his fingers digging into the plushness of your hips, desperate for you. the kiss was all too quick despite it being so heavy, he wasn't quick to let go of you though.

"you came, why?" he asked, his voice a little raspy from the singing.

"you know why. it's the same reason you're wearing this." you hummed. your finger gently pulling at the necklace he wore.

he chuckled, shaking his head. he placed his forehead against yours which you weren't entirely against, a quiet and content sigh coming from you both. one of his hands found the small of your back, his fingers gently running that spine tattoo he knew was there.

it was a quiet show that you two both wanted eachother terribly, that you needed eachother. with quiet whispers of 'i love you', you were happy.

a key isn't anything without it's lock, is it?

tags: @rueclfer

[shinymoonbraixen]

Nevermind I found it.

If you look closely you can see it.

Y'all his little foot stomps are too cute, I can't

I wonder if Dabi actually does this in the future... 🧐🤔