And It Wasn't For Love That You Went Back Home

"i cant wait to get home from work so i can do all that stuff i wanted to do"

when i get home from work:

He says, while wearing a League of Legends shirt

dabi praying at touya's altar is so poetic. he pays adieu to touya because every part of touya in him had died in those three years and ultimately when he visited his home in hopes he could still mend things only to submerged in the same despair that had burned him alive; to learn that he is nothing but a memory on display, to know that his supposed death hasn't changed the meaning of his existence one bit, to live over again that he is still very much replaceable and forgettable to his family and to witness again the very burning house that had once suffocated him in his own fumes, that the same flames still burn fleshes of those who bleed his blood. and along that died everything touya had in himself, which is essentially forgiveness and trying to look for his father's validation that he's enough. dabi was born from years of ruins of a burning household, from years of continuous abuse and mistreatment and pain. from being neglected and constantly living with the truth of not being loved enough. when one hasn't been loved and shown empathy without a condition to fulfil how could one be expected to love and empathize? how could one know love and empathy? dabi was born from touya's ruins that had burned once from the very feelings of lovelessness and grief.

it’s been one year since Dabi out trended the election

happy anniversary!

Dabi would love DDR. Just so ya know

praying 4 tomorrow lads

Meme redraw

SOBBING THIS IS TOO CUTE

誕生日おめでとう ー Happy birthday

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Synopsis: You never told Dabi it was your birthday, but you didn't have to.

A/N: my birthday is in two days! i turn 20! woo! here's something super short to celebrate :D also, the title reads as "tanjoubi omedetou" which just translates to happy birthday :)

Tags: fluff sweeter than cotton candy

-

It’s not that you weren’t looking forward to your birthday. You weren’t not looking forward to it. It’s just something you didn’t care to think about for very long. Getting older was not something to celebrate, in your opinion. It’s one year closer to death, as you often hear emo teens say.

There’s another reason you weren’t thrilled about your birthday, though. You had yet to tell your boyfriend it was tomorrow. Dabi was never the most affectionate. He wasn’t the lovey-dovey type, and you were okay with that. When you found out about Dabi’s birthday back in January and tried to get him a cake, he… wasn’t too happy. You just wish you knew he wasn’t a big fan of birthdays before he threw the cake on the floor.

So, you haven’t told him. Why bring up such a sore subject? The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. Seeing someone you care for that deeply be as upset as he was then really does a number on you, but you’d be lying if you weren’t a little upset that you wouldn’t be spending your birthday with him. It was for the best, you thought. If he doesn’t like birthdays, why force him to celebrate yours?

-

The dreadful day has come. After stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you grab your phone off the dresser. Texts form friends and family have been pouring in as they usually do every year, but Dabi’s name isn’t among those on your lock screen. Why would it be? He had no reason to text you. Favorite sweater falling off one shoulder and the minty taste of toothpaste still lingering on your tongue, you step out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.

The smell of burnt pancakes hit you instantly. The sizzle of the frying pan was louder than it should be. Dabi was cooking. He let himself in through the window again. You did wake up cold now that you think about it.

“Sit down. They’re almost done,” his back was facing you, flipping the pancakes one last time. “And close your eyes.” You did as he instructed.

You sat, eyes closed tightly, and heard a plate put down in front of you. A liquid was poured into a cup, presumably coffee based on the smell, and a soft kiss was placed to your temple.

“Open,” he said.

You saw before you three pancakes stacked high on a white plate, topped with whipped cream and fresh fruit. Fruit that looked this nice is quite expensive in Japan, and as far as you knew Dabi was flat broke. The pancakes were… crispy looking. Still edible, though. It looked like Dabi tried to cook something well. He was the worst cook you ever met, but this didn’t look all too bad.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” His was smiling ever so slightly, face very close to yours.

“How did you know?”

“I asked one of your friends.” A blatant lie. He probably did some snooping around your apartment and found some birthday cards your family mailed you.

“Mhm, sure you did.” You smile now matched his, and your lips connected. He was sweet, probably from tasting the whipped cream earlier.

“Thank you, Dabi.”