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BAKUGO HEADCANONS!! SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD IM GONNA START POSTING ONCE EVERY THREE DAYS!! :3
Bakugo learned to cook from his mom. They often compete to see who can make the spiciest dishes, which often leaves Masaru quietly sipping milk in the background.
Bakugo shows his love through actions rather than words. He’ll fix things for his partner, surprise them with their favorite snacks, or stay up late to make sure they feel safe and comfortable.
Bakugo wakes up with the messiest hair, and it’s a mix of hilarious and adorable. He grumbles when anyone points it out.
Animals especially dogs are inexplicably drawn to him despite his explosive personality. He pretends to be annoyed but can’t resist petting them when no one’s looking.
Even though Bakugo gives off big spoon vibes, he secretly loves being the little spoon during cuddle sessions. It makes him feel safe and grounded.
Bakugo gets adorably jealous. He'll puff up his cheeks like a grumpy cat and mutter under his breath.
If Bakugo has to babysit kids he’ll grumble the entire time but ends up playing tag with them or letting them braid his hair.
Bakugo mumbles random things in his sleep. Like battle strategies, his love for spicy food and sometimes his worries.
Bakugo looks ridiculously adorable bundled up in scarves, gloves, and his big winter coat even though he complains about wearing them.
Bakugo secretly wonders if he’ll ever live up to the expectations he’s placed on himself.
He sometimes lies awake questioning if he’s truly worthy of being a hero.
Bakugo has recurring nightmares about his failures like if Midoriya did jump in middle school like he said he should, getting kidnapped by LOV, etc. He wakes up in a cold sweat but never tells anyone bottling it up instead.
Bakugo’s greatest fear is losing the people he cares about.
When he’s overwhelmed Bakugo pushes people away, believing he has to face his problems alone.
Deep down he fears being a burden.
Bakugo bottles up his feelings until they explode in private. He’ll punch walls or scream into a pillow, but afterward, he feels empty and even more alone.
The first time someone called him a bully young Bakugo cried in secret. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he just wanted to prove he was strong so they wouldn’t leave him behind.
Bakugo sometimes lies awake at night replaying the moments he hurt Midoriya in the past.
The thought of Izuku smiling at him despite everything makes his chest ache with guilt.
Bakugo writes unsent letters to people he feels he’s wronged, like Midoriya, All Might, and his parents. He pours out his apologies but can’t bring himself to hand them over.
Bakugo often imagines what it would feel like if he were the one to make the ultimate sacrifice. He wonders if people would cry for him or just be relieved the hothead was gone.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒
𖤐 synopsis: in the dimly lit league of villains' hideout, an unexpected moment of vulnerability unfolds between you and dabi as you both share painful memories of your fathers.
𖤐 trigger warnings: dark themes, abuse (implied)
𖤐 pairing: touya (dabi) todoroki x villain! gender neutral! reader
the afternoon light filtered weakly through the boards covering the windows of the league of villains' current hideout. dust particles danced in the thin beams of sunlight that managed to break through, giving the otherwise dreary room a strange, almost ethereal quality. the abandoned building had become home for the past three weeks—not the worst place you'd stayed since joining the league, but certainly not the best either.
you lounged on the worn couch, your legs stretched across dabi's lap as he absently traced the scars on your arm with his fingertips. his touch was feather-light, careful not to press too hard against your skin. despite his rough exterior and the violent nature of his quirk, dabi always touched you with a gentleness that still surprised you sometimes.
the hideout was unusually quiet today. shigaraki had taken toga, twice, and spinner on some reconnaissance mission, while mr. compress and kurogiri were meeting with potential allies across town. it was rare to have the place entirely to yourselves, and the silence felt almost luxurious after days of toga's manic laughter and twice's constant contradictory chatter.
"what are you thinking about?" dabi asked, his deep voice breaking through the comfortable silence. his turquoise eyes studied your face with an intensity that used to make you uncomfortable but now felt like home. you shifted slightly, adjusting your position on the couch. "just enjoying the quiet, honestly."
dabi's lips quirked up on one side—the closest thing to a genuine smile he ever showed. "never thought i'd miss silence until i joined this circus."
you laughed softly. "remember when toga and twice had that three-hour argument about whether strawberry milk was better than chocolate?" "and then spinner threatened to duct tape their mouths shut?" dabi shook his head, the staples at the corners of his mouth catching the light. "i nearly burned the place down just to escape."
"but you didn't," you said, reaching out to push a strand of his dark hair away from his face. "because underneath all that brooding and those threats, you care about them."
dabi scoffed, though he didn't pull away from your touch. "i don't care about anyone in this league except you."
"mmm, keep telling yourself that," you teased, knowing full well how annoyed he got when you suggested he had a soft spot for the other members.
he rolled his eyes but didn't argue further. his hand continued its gentle exploration of your arm, tracing each scar with a reverence that made your heart ache. some were from your life before the league, others collected during various missions. dabi knew the story behind each one—just as you knew the story behind each of his purple scars that mapped out his body like a grotesque puzzle.
"this one," he said, touching a particularly jagged mark that ran from your elbow to your wrist, "still looks painful."
"it's not anymore," you assured him. "just a reminder of why we're here. why we're fighting." dabi nodded, understanding perfectly. every member of the league carried their own wounds—some visible, others buried deep beneath the surface. it was what united you all, in a way. the scars left by a society that had failed you.
"speaking of reminders," you said, sitting up a little straighter. "i found something yesterday when i was out." you reached into your pocket and pulled out a crumpled newspaper clipping. "thought you might want to see it."
dabi took the paper from your hands, his expression hardening as he unfolded it. it was an article about the number two hero, endeavor, speaking at some charity event about supporting children with difficult-to-control quirks. the irony was sickening.
"bastard," dabi muttered, his fingers tightening around the paper. small wisps of blue flame began to lick at the edges of the clipping. "still pretending to be a fucking saint."
you watched as the paper blackened and curled, turning to ash in dabi's palm. the blue flames danced across his skin but never extended to where his other hand rested on your leg. his control was impeccable—it had to be, after what he'd been through.
"i know you don't like talking about him," you said carefully. "but whenever you see anything related to him, you get this look in your eyes…" dabi's jaw clenched, the staples stretching his scarred skin even tighter. "what look?"
"like you're back there," you said softly. "back in that house with him."
for a long moment, dabi said nothing. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken memories and pain. you didn't push—you'd learned early in your relationship that pushing dabi only made him retreat further into himself. instead, you waited, giving him the space to decide whether to let you in or change the subject entirely. finally, he brushed the remaining ashes from his palm onto the floor. "what about you?" he asked, deflecting as he often did. "you never talk about your old man either."
you shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "not much to talk about. can't miss what was never there."
dabi's gaze sharpened. "sometimes that leaves its own kind of scar." the observation caught you off guard. it wasn't often that dabi showed this level of perception about emotional matters—or perhaps he simply chose not to reveal it most of the time.
"i guess it does," you admitted. "but different from yours. my father just… wasn't around. yours was there in all the worst ways possible."
something shifted in dabi's expression then, a crack appearing in his carefully maintained façade. his eyes darted to the boarded-up windows, then to the door, as if ensuring you were truly alone before he allowed himself to speak.
"sometimes i think it would have been better if he hadn't been there at all," dabi said, his voice so low you had to lean in to hear him. "if he'd just fucked off and left us alone instead of…" he trailed off, his free hand clenching into a fist.
you placed your hand over his, feeling the tension in his fingers. "instead of what, dabi?"
he looked at you then, really looked at you, with a vulnerability that made your breath catch. in that moment, he wasn't dabi the villain, the man who burned heroes without remorse—he was toya, the broken child beneath all those scars. "instead of training me until i broke," he said finally, the words rushing out like they'd been trapped inside him for too long. "until i literally fucking burned."
you held his gaze, letting him see that you weren't afraid of his truth. "tell me."
and for the first time since you'd known him, dabi began to talk about his father—about endeavor, about enji todoroki. about what it meant to be the firstborn son of a man obsessed with surpassing all might at any cost.
"he married my mother for her quirk," dabi explained, his voice hollow. "it was never about love or family. it was about breeding the perfect weapon. and i was the first attempt."
you listened, your heart breaking as he described the "training" sessions that started when he was just four years old. how endeavor would push him for hours, demanding he produce hotter flames, maintain them longer, control them better. how his tiny body would shake with exhaustion, how his skin would blister and burn from his own quirk.
"my fire was hot—hotter than his. that's what he wanted," dabi said, a bitter smile twisting his scarred lips. "but my body couldn't handle it. not like his. i tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen. said i was being weak, that i needed to push through it."
"he was wrong," you said firmly, squeezing his hand. "he was wrong about you."
dabi laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "oh, i know that now. but back then? he was my father. my hero." the last word dripped with venom. "i thought if i could just try harder, be stronger, he'd finally be proud of me. that he'd finally love me." you felt a burning behind your eyes but forced back the tears. dabi didn't need your pity—he needed your understanding.
"what about your mother?" you asked gently. "did she try to stop him?"
a flash of genuine pain crossed dabi's face. "she tried. in her way. but she was… damaged. the more children she had, the more unstable she became. and he kept pushing her to have more, hoping the 'perfect combination' would eventually emerge." he paused, his gaze distant. "until shoto was born." you'd heard him mention that name before—his youngest brother, the one with both fire and ice. the "masterpiece" that endeavor had been striving for.
"once shoto came along with his perfect half-and-half quirk, i became obsolete," dabi continued. "still had to train, still had to meet his impossible standards, but without even the sliver of attention i'd had before. i was just… a failed experiment."
"so what happened?" you asked, though you had a sickening feeling you already knew the answer. the scars that covered so much of his body told part of the story, but you'd never heard him explain exactly how he'd gotten them.
dabi was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer. when he finally spoke again, his voice was distant, as if he were narrating someone else's tragedy rather than his own.
"i wanted to prove i wasn't a failure. that my fire was special—better than his, better than shoto's." his eyes glazed slightly, lost in the memory. "i pushed myself further than i ever had before. the flames were beautiful—so hot they turned blue. perfect control, just like he always wanted."
he held up his scarred hands, staring at them. "for about thirty seconds. then my skin started to cook." you swallowed hard, imagining a young toya engulfed in his own flames, screaming in agony.
"he watched it happen," dabi said, his voice now eerily calm. "stood there while i burned. i remember looking at him through the flames, waiting for him to save me. he just… looked disappointed. like i'd broken his favorite toy."
"dabi," you whispered, unable to find words adequate for such horror.
"i don't remember much after that," he continued. "i should have died. sometimes i think i did die, and whatever i am now is just… the ghost of toya todoroki walking around in this patchwork body."
you moved then, shifting to kneel in front of him, taking both his hands in yours. "you're not a ghost. you're here. you survived."
"did i?" he looked at you with those piercing turquoise eyes. "toya todoroki died that day. i made sure of it. dabi rose from those ashes."
you reached up to touch his face, your fingers gently tracing the stapled scars. "and dabi is who i fell in love with. but that doesn't mean toya isn't still in there somewhere."
he closed his eyes briefly at your touch, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability before the walls came back up. "toya was weak. he wanted his father's approval, his love. dabi just wants to watch him burn."
"and you will," you assured him. "when the time is right. the league will help you expose him for what he really is."
dabi nodded, some of the tension leaving his body as he focused back on the present, on the mission ahead. on the revenge he'd built his new life around.
"what about you?" he asked after a moment, clearly wanting to shift the focus away from himself. "you said your father was absent. what's that story?" you settled back beside him on the couch, respecting his need to change the subject while recognizing his genuine interest in your past. it was only fair—he'd shared his darkest memories with you.
"not nearly as dramatic as yours," you said with a small shrug. "he just… left when i was three. don't really remember him much at all."
"he ever try to contact you?” you shook your head. "birthday card once a year until i was ten. then nothing. my mother said he had 'commitments elsewhere,' whatever that meant."
"what was your mother like?" dabi asked, his hand finding yours again.
"tired," you answered honestly. "always working two or three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. she did her best, i think, but she wasn't really… present, even when she was physically there." dabi nodded, understanding.
"emotional absence can fuck you up just as much as physical absence."
"yeah," you agreed, surprised by his insight. "she never hurt me, never yelled or anything like that. but she also never really saw me, you know? it was like i was just another responsibility, another burden she had to carry."
"what about when your quirk manifested?" dabi asked. it was a natural question—for most children, the emergence of their quirk was a pivotal moment, one where parental guidance was crucial.
you laughed bitterly. "she was terrified. my quirk isn't exactly… family-friendly." your quirk—the ability to absorb and manipulate the negative emotions of others, turning them into a physical force—had first manifested during a particularly bad day at school when you were six. a bully who'd been tormenting you suddenly collapsed, screaming about the darkness crushing him. no one had understood what happened, but your mother had taken one look at your glowing eyes and known.
"she tried to help me suppress it," you continued. "said it was dangerous, that people wouldn't understand. that they'd think i was villain material." "self-fulfilling prophecy," dabi noted with a smirk.
"i guess so," you agreed. "by the time i was a teenager, i'd learned to control it well enough to use it selectively. started small—making bullies feel their own cruelty, making abusive teachers face their own insecurities." "vigilante justice," dabi said, a note of approval in his voice.
"it felt good," you admitted. "to finally use what everyone told me was a villain's quirk to help people who were suffering. but society doesn't see it that way, does it? using an 'evil' quirk makes you evil, no matter your intentions."
"this fucked-up hero society only sees in black and white," dabi agreed. "no room for the gray areas where most of us actually live."
you nodded, thinking about the path that had eventually led you to the league. "after my mother died, there was nothing holding me back anymore. no one to disappoint, no one to pretend for. i started using my quirk more openly, targeting people who abused their power—corrupt officials, violent criminals the heroes couldn't be bothered with, businessmen exploiting their workers."
"and that's when you caught shigaraki's attention," dabi concluded, having heard this part of your story before.
"yeah. found myself cornered by some pro heroes who didn't appreciate my particular brand of justice. thought i was done for until a warp gate opened up right in front of me." you smiled at the memory, despite the fear you'd felt at the time. "never thought i'd be grateful to see a bunch of notorious villains, but that day i was."
dabi's arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. "lucky for me they recruited you." his voice was gruff, but the sentiment behind it was genuine.
you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. "do you ever wonder what would have happened if our fathers had been different? if your dad hadn't been an abusive monster, if mine had actually stuck around?"
"we wouldn't be here," dabi said simply. "you might've been a licensed hero, using your quirk to help people through the proper channels." "and you?"
dabi was quiet for a moment, considering. "i don't know. maybe the same. or maybe i'd have followed in the old man's footsteps anyway, become the next endeavor." he shuddered slightly at the thought. "sometimes i wonder if that flame is in my blood regardless of what he did to me."
"it's not," you said firmly. "you're nothing like him, dabi. your anger, your fire—it comes from a place of justice, not ego. you want to burn away the corruption, not become the number one hero."
he looked at you with a mixture of skepticism and hope, as if he wanted to believe your words but couldn't quite bring himself to. "maybe. or maybe i'm just as obsessed with destroying him as he was with surpassing all might. different goals, same fucking toxic mindset."
you sat up straighter, turning to face him fully. "no. there's a difference. he hurt innocent people—his wife, his children—to achieve his ambition. you've never done that. you've never hurt someone who didn't deserve it."
"tell that to the heroes i've burned," dabi said darkly.
"those 'heroes' prop up a system that abandoned both of us," you reminded him. "that lets people like your father abuse their children in the name of creating better heroes. that labels children as villains because of quirks they never asked for." dabi studied your face for a long moment before a genuine smile—small but real—curved his lips. "how did i end up with someone who actually believes in me?"
"because beneath all that anger and cynicism, you still believe there's something worth fighting for," you told him, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. "and so do i."
for a moment, you stayed like that, sharing breath in the dusty afternoon light of the hideout. two broken people who had found each other in the darkness, whose scars complemented rather than repelled each other.
"we're going to tear it all down," dabi murmured, his lips brushing against yours. "the hero society, the systems that failed us. and when i finally face him—when endeavor finally sees who i've become—i want you there with me."
"i will be," you promised, closing the distance between you with a gentle kiss. "until every false hero burns."
outside, the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the boarded windows. soon the others would return, bringing with them the chaos and noise that defined the league of villains. but for now, in this quiet moment, there was just you and dabi—two children abandoned by their fathers in different ways, who had found their own path to justice in a world that had never wanted either of you.
and if that path was stained with ash and marked by flames, so be it. some things needed to burn before they could be rebuilt.
side note: this is an old, but long drabble I decided to post because well- why not?
mutuals: @haikyuubby @https-bakugo @va-3 @lotusstarr @kitkat13001 @n3r0-5352
© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —
(Glitch watching tv)
(Suddenly there’s an ad and Lag’s in it?)
Lag: hi there! Having rat problems? *shows a rat puppet and a stick figure and makes it look like the rat is attacking it* well no fear! I! Lag the rat destroyer will fix that problem! Just call by putting in (phone number) and I’ll be there in seconds!
Glitch: *turns off tv* this is why my wife hates me… *Runs out of the house to look for Lag*
Greg X Nick (CSI)
This is soo cute!!
If you guys have not watched/seen the original CSI (Crime Scene Investigation), I highly recommend it! Greg and Nick are my personal favorites because they get along with each other, and the way they act around each other just gives me this...vibe, you know? 😅
Home?
I felt free only when I was at home.
Home, where I was born and raised, the place that crafted the person I am today. The capital of my state was a hectic place for sure, in fact I still remember the anxiety I used to have every day in the middle of the street full of hundred of people that only stared at me and at each other because that was one of the few things they knew how to do.
But, I have to be honest with you because that might be the only thing that my country lacked in: it is surely not my home anymore.
I have realised many negative elements of that place, one of many is exactly the toxicity it use to carry. People had become poisonous to each other and to their own blood. They would hate people and spit venom about other people's lives. Ungrateful fucking people.
So, affermative. My country ain't the best. And I come from it. But, it isn't my home anymore. Actually I don't have a home right now. As in, at the moment I don't have a city or a place I can call my home. I don't think I even want to find it, perhaps I am accustomed to being a nomad. It doesn't necessarily mean that I love doing it though, perhaps it's just how I got used to surviving.
I am Ariadne and I want to tell you what I think about life. Well, we are simple humans following the same rules and the same values, even though some of us don't really follow them but that's definitley irrelevant, and we are different in the matter of opinions. Even that though was the same at some point. But still there were some of us that wanted to destroy those norms, attempting to create new ones, like I said before, irrelevant.
Humans are divided into two genders: male and female. And with sexual actions they can reproduce new beings to our race. We have one race. We are all humans. But to some of us even these aspects I just listed to you are absolutely ridiculous, so they created new genders, new ways of sexual actions, new methods to reproduce and other absurd races.
We humans are never satisfied with how things were made. We want new things and we want to make them ourselves because that's what really satisfies us. Imagine the proudness one feels after demolishing the rules of nature, they would be thrilled as hell. How do I know that? I mean, it takes one to know the other. I've never been one that broke the rules but I have done some things, despite being small and not even worth mentioning.
I have surely changed a lot lately. In fact, I'm not the same person I was before because apparently I don't have a home to return to, other than my family, and I am not what my country wanted me to be. I'm not particularly proud of it. I'm actually indifferent to it. It might be because I'm continuously changing like a flower does every day.
Hello to everyone reading this.
I am mustfa owida i am 27 years old
we mostfa’s family , we are establishing this campaign to save us from the hell of war we have been facing for more than a year and a half.
I can say I'm tired of repeating this, but I have no choice because my family depends on my efforts to cope with the exorbitant costs of living and the crazy prices we are witnessing in Gaza.
My family consists of 9 members, my father is 75 years old and my mother is 60 years old, both of them need the necessary health care. 7 of my sis and bros lost their jobs, their workplace was completely destroyed, their studies stopped, and they lost their dreams.
Your contributions can make a profound and life-changing difference ❤️‼️
Stanford pine house💜
Okay- I rlly need to explain WHO is Alex,b cuz I only started posting about him (🫦🔥) and I didn’t tell ANYTHING about him- so- I will tell his lore and am things about him,his au’s,how I created him,and- idk- just give me sm minutes
And not only Alex,Nell,Thereboot,River/055 a lot of characters-
And there is a photo of an Nellx for an reason that idk😋
Happy b day for this handsome man 🔥🫦
And happy earth day-
Dog man fans!!
Walmart: Puerto Rico Bayamón
Some Drawings of Varian that I did when I was ofline
PLEASE TELL ME THAT IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THAT THEY ARE THE SAME FRFR? (YK??) (YOU UNDERSTAND-?)))
HII!! Well people- I was offline a LONG time for some personal reasons- so I changed my blog and now I’m SPIKEE. that name started b’cuz one of my online friends told me that she is gonna call me that nickname so-
Now- there is a drawing !
Guys I rlly need some people who can animate
I need these people,even if you can’t do anything you could talk to me to try to get people or give ideas
Animator
Music selector
Co-creator
someone to do the drafts
And voice acting
If you accept,contact me on discord:
• n3lly_mar
Or Snapchat:
•
Or Pinterest:
Or maybe here! I’m online all time these days:
Monday
Wensday
Thursday
Saturday
Sunday (till 7 pm)
🇺🇸: I forgot to say, I won't upload the A/Z series on yt yet, maybe I'll upload it directly from here (Tumblr) or on another YouTube account, the reason is, that series is an AU of Alex, and Alex doesn't appear in the first series yet (NAHEA) and I haven't mentioned anything about that AU on yt, so maybe I'll create a second channel on yt for that
🇪🇸:
Olvidé decirlo, No subiré la serie A/Z en yt todavía, tal vez la suba directamente desde aquí (Tumblr) o en otra cuenta de YouTube, la razón es que esa serie es un AU de Alex, y Alex aún no aparece en la primera serie (NAHEA) y no he mencionado nada sobre ese AU en yt, así que tal vez cree un segundo canal en yt para eso.
Sorry for not being posting-. I was feeling upset.
I heard a Hard notice and…that’s why…heh- I will post smth later
Want to play a game?
(IGNORE MY SMALL HAND JAJAJA)
Idk why I tell this- but Alex and 055 in one point are like Velvet and Venner
(I need to tell more of the series and my OC-..)
(Alex would be in squid game😭)… Alex in squid game :P…I know that his body is a little- wierd-
And there is another one but with more details
IM BACK 🔥
I was spending a lot of time in c.ai when I find a “Apocalipsis zombie” I i think- to make an au of Alex in that! In here is how he look
He in here has 11,his parents are dead,has a little brother of 5 years and just joined a group of 4 people of 14/17 years old,he has survived alone for 1 year protecting his brother
(I probably make a bot of that or a fan fic JAJA)
Now these ARE spoilers 😼
I’ll make a FnF mode with Alex,Nell,Thereboot and more😼
An animation :3!! Of Onceler/alex
Made by me😼
Arcane music just hits different 😭🙏🏻
Alex but- what did you do this time?
MY KIDD😭😭
-Ron-