#i too would be throwing a tantrum in the middle of an alleyway at night

[clowningaroundmars]

reading a reprint of spiderman comics from the 60's and i am absolutely loving how dramatic peter was back in the ol days lol

[yandere-daydreams]

What about a yandere prince or nobleman who falls for the courtesan he keeps visiting in the red light district?

It might seem a little out of place, but considering the subject matter, which Yandere would be better for the role of a spoiled, delusional Prince than Asmodeus? He gets so little credit in canon, it feels like he deserves a suitably miserable birthday present.

TW: Delusional Mindsets, Emotional Manipulation, and Unhealthy Relationships. 

~

Part of you felt sorry for him.

It was hard not to, honestly. Too young to be given any real power over his kingdom and too old to be the darling among his siblings, he’d been dropped in the middle of a family to which he’d only barely belonged and abandoned with no companionship, no confidant, and no acceptable outlet for his frustration, save for his infamous romantic pursuits and middling affairs, each more superficial than the last. He had wealth, but nothing to do with it. He had passion, but he had no reason to be passionate. He had talents, but from what he’d told you, he might as well not, for all the regard his skills seemed to earn.

Despite your own circumstance, part of you sympathized with him, pitied him. Cared for him, even, although you’d never say it outloud.

But, right now, you just wished he would stop destroying your chambers.

“It’s not fair!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was fervid, echoing off the walls of your small room despite the many silks and cushions you’d decorated the space with. You took pride in your corner of the brothel, the furnishing made up of gifts from your upper-class clients and the air entangled with the scent of herbs and sandalwood, both from the incense you burnt and the bouquets you brought in each night, if only to fill the many, many ceramic vases a traveling nobleman had given you during his last visit. Asmodeus had complimented them before, but he didn’t seem to care for them now, one already in his hand and, given another moment, in pieces on the other side of the room, forming a puddle of water and clay and pathetic, crumpled petals that might’ve once been roses. You didn’t bother cleaning it up. He’d throw another, before the night was over, if not two. The scattered remains of a down-stuffed pillow were all the evidence you needed of his rage, but Asmodeus felt the need to make his point thoroughly. You could only grit your teeth, rubbing your temple as something wooden and expensive felt his wrath, soon crushed under his heel with an unnecessary force. “It’s not fair! None of this is fair!”

You sighed, leaning back into the loveseat you’d sprawled yourself out on. A velvet number, one you were adamant remain untouched during his tantrum. “Your Highness--”

A curtain, this time, ripped off the rack without a second’s hesitation. You blinked blearily at the alleyway now visible, thankful he didn’t aim for anything facing the main road.

“Your Highness,” You repeated, sitting up just enough to glare at the disheveled Prince. He stopped instantly, dropping the delicate fabric he was clinging to, but you only shook your head, collapsing back onto your safe haven. “It’s not fair, and you’re angry about that. I understand,” You said, waving a hand through the air some abstract, nonsensical gesture, attempting to demonstrate your exasperation. “But, you haven’t told me what ‘it’ is. No amount of destroying my workplace is going to soothe you, until you do.”

Asmodeus let out a ragged exhale, deflating as he glanced at the damage he’d caused. It didn’t seem to faze him, though, his stride still confident as he approached you, coming to a stop at your side. His professional facade remained for a moment, but all you had to do was raise your arms before he gave in, falling onto your chest in an unceremonious heap. You allowed him to bury his face in your shoulder without complaint. He needed more comfort than you did, apparently. “It’s awful,” He began, his voice breathless, exhausted. “They want me to get married, (Y/n), to another kingdom’s brat, no less. Lucifer had the nerve to announce my engagement on my birthday, too, without so much as a word to me beforehand. It was all I could do to walk away with what was left of my pride.”

You pursed your lips, humming as he finished. An arranged marriage organized by the crown-prince. It wasn’t ideal, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t expected it. Asmodeus wasn’t a diplomat, after all, he wasn’t a necessity. This was probably the best course of action, even if it wasn’t the kindest. But, you weren’t being paid to force him to face ugly truths. He wanted to be consoled, and it was your job to do so. “An engagement?” You asked, rubbing slow, measured circles into his back. “I don’t suppose we’ll have much time together… We’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

“We shouldn’t have to.” He was whining, his words caught in a dramatic, emphasized drawl. His arms wrapped around your midriff, pulling you towards him, as if the nonexistent distance between your forms was too much for him to bear. “Lucifer’s never cared for me, I’ve told you that, haven’t I? He can go on about his responsibilities as the oldest as much as he wants, but he’d push us all off the nearest cliff if it meant advancing his own position. I’m just the one he chose to shove first.” Another miserable, weak groan, as if he was forcing himself to continue. “I’ll have to court someone I don’t love, someone I don’t know. How could anyone stand to put another person through that?”

“I didn’t love you at first either, Asmo. Things can change.” You ran a hand through his hair, letting him lull into your palm. If he noticed the apathy in your tone, the flatness you’d never been able to shake, he didn’t feel the need to address it, falling into sweet words and hopeful sentiments. He was a trusting boy, but a naive one, too. It’d be a crime not to take advantage of that. “There’s nothing you or I can do. We’ve just got to use the time we have well and try to get ready for the future. You’ll make the best of it, I know you will, and we have months to prepare. You’ll be ecstatic by the time your wedding arrives.”

You felt him open his mouth, but he paused before he could say anything. Instead, a wide, lazily smile spread over his lips, one that didn’t correlate with his next response. “No, I won’t.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to marry a stranger.” He pushed himself up, slotting his lips against yours in a sudden, impulsive kiss, as reckless as it was impassioned. No thought was given to pleasure or nuance, only to furthering the gesture, deepening it, until Asmodeus pulled away happier than you’d ever seen him. “I’m going to marry you, to hell with anything anyone as to say about it. I can have something arranged by tomorrow morning, and no one will be able to stop us.”

“What? Asmo, no.” You could hardly process what he was saying, your responses a little too late, a little too delicate. “I’m a commoner, and you’re… Your brothers wouldn’t--”

“They’ll learn to live with it. There’s more than one kind of treaty.” His excitement was growing by the second, his resolve growing more solid. Before you could stop him, he was standing, straightening his clothes and combing his fingers through his hair, barely pausing to grab the coat he’d discarded earlier. “It’ll be wonderful, it’ll be perfect. Don’t take a step, I’ll be back in an hour. I’d hate for my fiancé to spoil our relationship so quickly.”

And just like that, he was gone, the door to your chambers slamming behind him. You were left in a state of stunned silence, alone and confused and engaged, despite the absence of a ring. It was all you could to do to straighten out your thoughts, to sit down and think, more the latter than the former.

To concentrate and wonder why you’d ever bothered to pity someone who clearly couldn’t care less about you.

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

What Did I Do To Deserve You: Headcannon🔥🌊

Alpha Dabi x Omega Reader

🔥🌊-Dabi is a mean bastard (notice that pun there). He’s aggressive, easily irritable, and pissed at the world. Heroes? Heroes are bullshit to Dabi. How can he acknowledge the god of heroes if his own father beat him to a bloody pulp? In other words, that asshat Endeavor fucked Dabi up not only physically but mentally as well.

🔥🌊-That being said, Dabi treats you lie an absolute queen. Do you want ice cream at 3 A.M.? No problem for him. You need a few days of space away from him? It may hurt him deeply but, he respects that you need time to yourself. You’re crying because you can’t handle your quirk? He’s right there next to you.

🔥🌊-Most likely, you would’ve met Dabi while he was injured and needed some medical attention. Picture this, you’re walking home from work and you hear a pained groan from an alleyway. You follow the sound (your mother would definitely be pissed when she heard about this) and found him clutching his side as he hunched over himself.

🔥🌊-Against your morals, you approached the man with your hands outstretched to show him you mean no harm; Dabi didn't have the energy to fight you either way. You use your water manipulation Quirk and condense some water vapor in the atmosphere into your hand so you could heal him. He just stares at your beautiful face as you stick out your tongue out the side of your mouth in concentration.

🔥🌊-“You look like an angel,” you blush. Dabi is always so straightforward when it comes to you. This small act of kindness cemented your relationship.

🔥🌊-Dabi quickly found you the next day after you healed him. At first, you’re creeped the fuck out. Why is this dude stalking you? Doesn’t he have a job? He doesn’t mean you any harm though; he just wants to protect the smol bean that saved his life.

🔥🌊-“As always, you look nice,” if you didn’t have a praise kink before Dabi, you most certainly have one now. You love to hear him compliment you and he loves to do it. Such a dynamic duo.

🔥🌊-Sometimes, Dabi is scared that he’ll hurt you with his flames one day. He’s such a worrywart; there’s no way that he could ever hurt you. For one, he’s so cautious that it’s impossible for him to lose control around you. For two, you have a WATER QUIRK. You’re pretty sure if there was ever a situation (which there won’t be), you could just douse his flames.

🔥🌊-Dabi is also touch-starved! He can’t help but pull you close and cuddle you. His tendencies are normally so adorable (you swear there’s nothing better than watching him in his sweats beg for cuddles with his puppy dog eyes) but, it can get a little intense. He’s prone to throw tantrums whenever you’re too busy for cuddles. It’s not the ‘Bakugou whenever Midoriya accomplishes something’ tantrum but more so the ‘Aizawa when he wants his sleeping bag.’ He’s cranky and has a harsh voice yet, it doesn’t bother you.

🔥🌊-Being in public can be a bit...hard. He’s an undercover vigilante; being in public isn’t ideal for him. So, whenever you do go out, he has to cover his burns with makeup (it bothers you that you can’t see his beautiful face). Another thing is PDA. He likes it. You like it too but, you know that society had RULES.

🔥🌊-You can’t just have him kissing down your neck and leaving hickeys (he leaves them so people know you belong to him) in the middle of the mall! And, All Might forbid another alpha tries to flirt with you.

🔥🌊-Dabi likes to spend the night at your house. You might as well just let the alpha move in with how much time he spends there. He’s literally taken over your house, one item at a time. Normally, it’s the omega that weasels their way into the alpha’s space. But, Dabi has no problem initiating things. Now, after ONE MONTH, Dabi has claimed half your closet, his own cabinet for the things he likes to eat, the man even brought his own blankets.

🔥🌊-The alpha also likes to bring things for your nest. His scent wafts from the fluffy stuffed animals and it comforts you. Eventually, you know you’ll give him an invitation to your sacred place.

🔥🌊-And, even if he’s soft, he’s not afraid to punish you. He’s definitely kinky and loves trying new things. You’re gonna need all the help you can get with him around. HAVE FUN!

—————————————————————————-

@sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

[judecz]

damn, lucy, back at it again. this is the second love of my life, jude ! i am here for all the plots, so please, slide into my IMs & i’ll love you forever. click under the cut to hear me rant some more about this jerk, or give me a like to slide into ur d-scord ;~) ! you can check out his factfile here and his pinterest here !

TW: addiction ( drug + alcohol ), physical abuse, death !!!

 [ LORENZO ZURZOLO / ARETE / MNEMOSYNE / MUSE 20 ] / [ JUDE CZERNY ] is a [ 21 ] year old [ MATHEMATICS ] major. [ HE ] is known for being [ GRITTY & LAID-BACK ] but [ FLIPPANT & MOODY ].  when i think of them, i imagine [ BLOODY KNUCKLES, SOUR CANDY, SPRINTS TO THE FINISH LINE, CHEAP T-SHIRTS ]. and even though they’re a proud HU student now, we all have our roots. theirs run back to them being an [ OAK PARK - COPERNICUS ] graduate.  i asked around and it turns out they [ ARE ] an AOP student. in their interview, they managed to woo the admissions team by [ CREATING A NEW PROOF FOR THE BIRCH AND SWINNERTON-DYER CONJECTURE ]. i guess that’s all there is to know! unless…

when you’re born, you’re an inconvenience. it’s 9pm on christmas eve when you come wailing into the world. neither the nurse that swaddles you tightly nor your parents particularly want to be in the cold hospital, shivering under neon fairy lights in the depth of a south chicagoan winter. neither do you. 

while you’re young, your mama is your hero. you don’t realise it yet, but she’s got a problem; there’s a reason why she sits zoned out on the couch as you tug at her cardigan, why your older brother has to cook you breakfast, brush your hair. and god bless him, he does it dutifully. when your mother tries to sober up, though, she’s perfect. she sings you lullabies in czech and kisses your nose, and you wish every night on the streetlight outside your window that the next day will be a good day.

most of the time, it isn’t. ruth sits complacent on the couch, glazed eyes fixed on the broken television. yet, even when she’s like this; she’s still better than your father. john drinks like a fish, and it brings out the worst side of him. he’s the most violent person you know. after every lost bet, every long night in the bar, you cower with your brother in your shared bed, head underneath the covers. yet it’s always still you that bears the brunt of his wrath.

it’s not your fault. thomas is the oldest, and the only useful one. phillip’s still small and cute, a couple of years younger than you, and looks exactly like your father. it’s you that’s stuck in the middle; you have your mother’s dreamy eyes and the sharp nose of your father, and it’s not enough to stop him from picking at you, pulling you apart. you always disliked him because he disliked you, right from the start.

you live like this for a long time. it’s not until you’re thirteen that your father drinks himself to death. he picks a fight with the wrong person, and bleeds out in an alleyway outside his favourite bar. despite all this, you can’t bring yourself to grieve. too often has your skin been tainted the same shade as your funeral suit from your father’s fists. good riddance.

your mom tries. she really does. but she can’t bring herself to get clean, even with your pleading. one day, they walk in on her shooting up. it’s essentially a death sentence for your family.

so instead, you three boys were torn from the last semblance of normality you had. no one wants three dysfunctional delinquents, but you cling together. screaming, tantrums, breaking things; you’ll anything to stop them from splitting you up. you’re not allowed any contact with your mother, and it breaks your heart, over and over again.

you never find a home for longer than a month. moving from group home to group home, they all have one quality in common: no one there really cares about you. quickly, you turn to crime. your father had taught you how to hotwire a care when you seven, baby-cheeked and innocent. he taught you how to pick a lock when you were six. it was the only thing he was good for.

it started with breaking and entering. you usually get away with it, too. burglary is easy when you were scrawny and small, and can shimmy in a window in seconds. besides, the money helps provide for the three of you; you run away often enough. you have to fend for yourself. at one point, you manage to spend an entire month homeless. but at least you’re still together.

as you grow older, you grow better at what you do. carjacking and vandalism seem more and more fun. the kids at the foster homes aren’t exactly shining examples, either; you were either being tossed around by the older kids, or asked to join in their schemes. you much preferred the second option. 

your life continues like this until you’re sixteen. you learn to throw a solid left hook quickly. you switch from high school to high school as you move from house to house, never able to settle. but you have your brothers. you’re as close to happy as you can be. then everything goes wrong. thomas gets caught.

you can’t let him get locked up. he’s just turned eighteen, and that means prison time. so instead, you take the fall. vandalism. breaking and entering. theft. willful destruction of property. you stand in front of the judge; she’s a pristine blonde woman from the lake forest suburbs, and she is not lenient on you. it’s juvenile prison or nothing. as your brothers watch on, you’re led away.

you spend a year there. it’s worse than any foster home, but you develop a thick skin. at least all the punches you take aren’t for nothing. it’s here that you learn you have dyslexia & adhd. it’s here you’re blinded in one eye after another inmate gets hold of a knife, catches you in the dark, makes you pay for someone else’s sins. it’s also here that you learn you’re extraordinarily gifted at maths. a prodigy, someone calls you. it’s funny. at school you had sat at the back of the classroom, never able to see the blackboard in maths class.

when you turn seventeen, you’re let out. thomas is nineteen, working as a mechanic, trying to make a legitimate living. quickly, he gets the paperwork sorted to make him your legal guardian, and phillip’s too; for the first time, the three of you are reunited again. 

you finish your final year of high school at oak park academy. you’d won a scholarship while in juvy, swearing you’d never return to the halls of your old school. oak park is an opportunity you’d never even dreamed of. you keep your head down and for the first time, you enjoy school. you make a few friends. no one here knows your troubled past, and you don’t tell them. you fly through maths problems like they’re simple sums, but english still evades you. you persevere, however, and graduate at the end of a long twelve months. not long enough. you wonder what your life would be like if you’d been here all along. 

and with the opportunity of oak park, comes hatchett. you applied to every university in the country, but you have your eye on one in particular. you turn up to your interview, stomach churning and hands shaking. still, you spit numbers like they’re silver, quick fingers scraping chalk across the blackboard, ignoring the observant eyes of the panel. you work like you’ve never worked before. by the time you leave, your arms are dusted with white, your brow sweaty; but from the approving looks, your heart soars. you get your acceptance letter, and you glow. a full ride. it’s a blank page, simply waiting. 

before you leave chicago for good, however, you have one last thing to do. after a mile long trail of paper and records, of doors slammed in your face and unanswered calls, you find your mom again. you’re surprised she’s still alive. she cries when you show up at her door, and your heart still bleeds when you watch her. even now you still call her, your voice thick with affection; yet you still tell people both your parents are dead. it’s easier that way.

your label is mnemosyne; memory. the memory of the life you used to live haunts you, like a ghost, long fingers digging into every corner of your brain. you’ll never forget the sharp glint of a knife, the screeching sirens of a police car, the smell of blood fresh on your knuckles. still, you tell yourself. you can change, you can change. you’re a shapeshifter now, boy. you’ve erased your old life from both your memory and everybody elses’. no-one needs to know — so you keep the memories of the real you tucked away deep inside your mind. you remember the soft smell of your mother’s hair. the pattern on your childhood duvet. your brother’s laugh, your brother’s crooked smile. you remember the important things, and leave the rest to be washed away by the tide of memory.

[otomeshistarlight-blog]

We’re chugging right along with the enigmatic Dabi!

1. Sleep: Dabi probably sleeps in ‘the yearner’ position, an assumption I’m basing off the personality traits associated with this pose. People who sleep like this are a little complicated: they are open-minded, yet cynical; slow and suspicious when making a decision, but stick to it once their minds are made up. If that doesn’t sound like our favorite fire-based villain, then I don’t know what does. Essentially he always looks like he’s reaching out for something that isn’t there, maybe a person or even a moment in time he remembers fondly, and as such you can’t help but feel a little morose while you watch him snooze. Something about him lying there like that just strikes you as so sad but if you ask him about it in the morning, he’ll shrug you off with a smart remark. However if you decide to lie down with him, don’t be surprised when those stretched out arms snake their way around your body and pull you in tight against the front of his chest. He doesn’t look it, but he’s actually quite the cuddler - at least when he’s asleep anyway. In fact, you’ll be hard pressed to disengage from his embrace if you find yourself needing to pee in the middle of the night so you’d better use the bathroom before bedtime. I almost want to describe him as being a clingy bed partner but possessive might be a slightly more accurate term. He snores on occasion, softly and only for a few minutes at a time, and he’s a pretty solid sleeper so you wont have to worry about accidentally getting hit in the face. Definitely hogs the blankets though so be prepared for a game of tug-o-war.

2. Sad: Dabi is a pretty aloof individual anyway but I think you’d easily be able to tell when he was feeling a little down. Rather than simply looking sleepy like usual, his eyes would take on a more hollow expression and the corners of his mouth would pinch around his scarred flesh. He may not be able to hide his emotions well but he’d certainly be loathe to open up about it in an honest way, defensively guarding the truth until you either dropped the subject or he forced you to drop it. Rather than being cold, he’s simply a secretive person out of necessity and burying his emotions is pretty much second nature at this point. If you managed to break his walls down enough that he trusted you, implicitly and unequivocally, he would eventually choose the most inopportune time to come clean about what he was feeling. Maybe it would be something as domestic as when you were brushing your teeth before bed or maybe in the middle of dinner without any forewarning to the sudden topic change but, more than likely, I see it happening when the mood is decidedly inappropriate. Perhaps right in the middle of sex, his attempt at really startling you, or even in the middle of a heated argument that has absolutely nothing to do with his emotions and he’d likely take great pleasure in seeing you rattled at the sudden announcement. Any sort of confession in this regard would be used as leverage for him to get the upper hand rather than him actually wanting to talk about his feelings. 

3. Happy: Dabi is only truly happy when he’s the direct cause of chaos and mayhem, or when he inadvertently finds himself standing in the middle of such a scene. The negatively charged energy and bad vibes that radiate off a situation like this, whether that be a disorganized bar brawl or a burning building collapsing around him, makes his skin crawl in the best way imaginable. It feeds him, stoking him like an open air flame, and it just gets him more amped up with each passing second. He’s used to going about things as a lone wolf of sorts, and he’s more than content with this, but I think he’d be pleasantly surprised to find that having a partner in crime just makes the end results all the more satisfying. You’d need to be able to keep up with him without slowing him down, and it would also help if you were just as fearless as he was, but he’d truly enjoy having you along for the ride. After all, two pairs of hands are better than one and he absolutely lives for that moment where you can pull the metaphorical grenade pin together and watch everything come crashing down. The adrenaline fueled sex afterwards is nothing to shake your finger at either.

4. Angry/Violent: Dabi is, for the most part, a relatively laid back kind of guy. Rather than getting angry, he prefers to focus on spitting arsenic laced words and dripping thick sarcasm from every syllable but by no means is he immune to bouts of rage. Actually, his are some of the most explosive you’re likely to see any time soon and its best to stick clear when he finds himself in one of these moods. I can easily see him absolutely scorching a place to the ground during one of these blind meltdowns but, on a slightly more subdued note, I certainly don’t put basic property damage past him. Punching holes in the wall, throwing/breaking furniture, smashing windows, etc. However, it would take an awful lot to get him to this point and, although I don’t think he could be talked down after already going off the deep end, there is that possibility that you could potentially diffuse the situation before it got that far. It would be best to try and get him to walk away from whatever was upsetting him enough that he’d drop his smart mouthed attitude, but if you were the cause of his little temper tantrum ... may god help you.

5. Sex: Dabi strikes me as an experimental and fun partner whose not restricted by basic notions of what is and isn’t acceptable to do in the bedroom. Or an alleyway. Or in the bathroom of a seedy bar. Or anywhere really. The point is, he’s down for basically whatever, whenever the mood strikes him. He’s just living his life and trying to have a good time so I definitely think he’d need a lover with as few inhibitions as him. An innocent partner would be fun to tease and taking advantage of their naivety would be something he’d take great joy in, but eventually that would get old. He wants to be excited by the act and experience the rush and thrill of doing something decidedly bad with someone who enjoys it just as much as him. Perhaps this is simply an act of rebellion, lashing out against the society that tried to tame his spirit, or maybe he’s just a legitimate freak in the sack. Either way, I know I’m picking up whatever he’s putting down. He doesn’t have much interest in the slow and steady technique, much preferring to go to town with foundation shaking enthusiasm, but if the right moment called for it he could be persuaded to take it down a notch. Like, say, if he had you pinned to a pool table in the farthest corner of a crowded bar and he just ever so inconspicuously lifted your skirt up .... 

6. Living Quarters: Dabi is a controlled mess in every facet of his life. He strikes me as a mostly nomadic villain who doesn’t stay in one place for too long, jumping from abandoned building to backrooms in strip clubs and sometimes even landing on a couch in a veritable meth den. Its not glamorous and its not pretty, but its the life he’s chosen for himself. He likely does have a little nesting spot to call his own, one thats secluded and hard to find, perhaps an underground bunker of sorts that no one knows about, where he can keep what little personal belongings he owns. But he doesn’t go there very often, just when the mood strikes him, and he always half expects the place to be raided and empty every time he stops by. I’m very doubtful about Tomura giving him or any of the others a place to stay above the bar - I don’t know if that building would even necessarily be outfitted with bedrooms anyway, and that kind of generosity would ride on the implication that Tomura actually liked Dabi as a fellow person. Which, given their sassy back and forth banter, doesn’t exactly seem to be the case. I’m eagerly awaiting more details concerning this in canon and I do so hope that Horikoshi delivers.  

7. Romantic: Dabi doesn’t appear to have a romantic bone in his body, much preferring general displays of lust to communicate his attraction and also the occasional lewd gestures that are sure to raise a few eyebrows. Its not even that he isn’t aware of how these kinds of things work, its just that he has no interest and they, quite frankly, bore him. He appears to be a rebel without a cause and everything about him screams to me ‘fuck the man’ so of course he’s going to do the exact opposite of what he was always told to do. But more than that, if he wanted a normal relationship with normal parameters that didn’t feature high stakes then he wouldn’t have become a villain. I think its obvious that he doesn’t want ‘normal’ and in fact I’d be willing to bet that, if anything, he’d look for something as abnormal as you could possibly get. That being said, I could see him showing his affection by giving you gifts in the form of stolen trinkets or maybe taking you to get a piercing. Or maybe doing it himself. The closest he’d probably get to actual romanticism would be some of the pragmatic, obscurely prophetic nonsense I could easily see him spouting at random. The kind of stuff that makes you feel like the center of his world and like a speck of dust all at the same time. 

8. Family & Friends: Dabi is ... an enigma for good reason. I don’t necessarily feel comfortable even taking a stab at this one because, while I do subscribe to the theory that he’s a Todoroki, there are far too many different angles to approach that from for me to even begin making an accurate prediction. Based on the evidence, I do think that he’s Endeavor’s second oldest son and all of the coincidental pussyfooting around him and his real identity is suspicious as hell but the exact details are as good as anyones guess. Was he a failed experiment? Shoto version 1.0? Was he jealous that Shoto was the chosen one instead of him? Did he get burnt up trying to protect Shoto? Like, there are just way too many possibilities and not enough facts to base anything off of at this point. And thats not even mentioning the fact he not only could have been, but likely was, an entirely different person before becoming a villain, which only further muddles this topic. He’s not the same, unhinged psychopath that Toga is (and damn, do I love her) so that seems to imply that he wasn’t always this way. Anything I could say to answer this question would be pure conjecture unlike the rest of this post so I don’t even want to take a stab in the dark here. 

9. Hobbies: Dabi seems like the sort who’d enjoy playing pool and darts, typical leisure activities you’d find in a bar, and maybe some artistic outlets like painting. I doubt he has a lot of down time though so I see him being more of an ‘out looking for trouble’ kind of guy who somehow manages to find himself in increasingly improbably situations. I also think he’d be into gambling, even just on a basic level, but he’d no doubt be quite good at it with that poker face of his. 

10. Likes/Dislikes: Dabi likes chaos, whether causing it or simply being stuck in the middle of it, quiet places to wind down in after all the fun has been said and done, adrenaline fueled situations and interesting people/things. He dislikes those who look down on him for any reason, being bored or otherwise unstimulated and soap box preachers. 

11. Childhood: Again, this is something I just can’t make an educated guess about and I apologize for that.

12. Old Age: Dabi likely doesn’t see himself reaching old age given both his lifestyle and his penchant for trouble. I also view him as having the ‘live fast, die young’ sort of mindset that only exacerbates his thrill seeking nature and the only thing thats kept him alive this long are his goals ... whatever those may be. Revenge? Making a point? Again, conjecture! 

13. Cooking: Dabi isn’t much of a cook but after fending for himself for so long, he’s got the basics down. He can prep a cup of instant ramen like no ones business and he makes a mean grilled cheese. But thats about the extent of his culinary skills and he doesn’t get a chance to polish them all that often as I imagine he’d be more inclined to find someone (or a couple someones) who were willing to give him handouts for one reason or another. Regardless, he appears thin enough that food doesn’t seem to be a top priority and he likely takes scraps whenever he can get them. He looks like he’d be a fan of spicy food though. The hotter the better. 

14. Random: Dabi’s favorite positions are the Downward Dog, because he likes wrestling you underneath him and pinning you down in a prone position thats just perfect for hitting your g-spot. He does so love making you scream until your throat is hoarse, after all. 

The Pile Driver, for much of the same reasons

and of course the Reverse Cowgirl because he strikes me as an ass man and he loves nothing more than watching yours bounce on his dick.

Dabi is, almost without a doubt, a kinky little bastard and I could easily see him incorporating various forms of bondage and power play dynamics into a relationship. I think he’d find any kind of piercing play especially tantalizing and risky public sex seems like it would likewise be at the top of his list. Rather than having one angle he prefers to go in at, he’d actually enjoy trying out all kinds of different things to see what sticks, whats just kind of eeh, and what ends in disastrous failure. Never a dull moment with this one, be ready for the ride of your life if you choose to ignore all the warning signs and climb on board anyway.