Whoa, Where Did You Get All That?

“Whoa, where did you get all that?”

He’s got several arms full of spooky stuff.

1: dangle my muse over the edge of a building // dabi fucking with toga

f*ck with my muse send a number, get a drabble. caution: blood, torture, lots of violence.

“Dabi!! Put me down!” She wasn’t too worried about actually falling off of the roof, he had a tight grip on her after all, and she’s pretty sure he would have just shoved her over if he had really wanted to. So she swiped at him with one of the knives she had tucked into the waistband of her skirt, if he dropped her then she’d just have to deal with that later. But it was hard to get to him with how long his arms were given her own petite height, and that was even more frustrating than hanging over the edge of the roof by her wrist. 

“You better put me down before I decide to throw this knife at you instead.” He really was no fun to mess with when he got like this. 

27: grab a fistful of my muse’s hair // dabi @ shoto

f*ck with my muse send a number, get a drabble. caution: blood, torture, lots of violence.

Shoto had been, not intrigued, but curious about Dabi ever since they’d first met. The way the other man had said his name that night at camp had been off, full of more recognition or mocking than he would have normally expected in a first meeting, even with a villain. Of course it was possible that Dabi just knew who his father was. Shoto was easily recognizable and his father had no shortage of enemies. Still, something nagged at him and he couldn’t place it for the life of him.

This second meeting wasn’t going much better than the first, they had been forced into close combat more quickly than Shoto would have liked, and he was unable to use his ice to it’s full potential simply using it to block blue fire before another attack came. It didn’t long for the speed of the attacks to break through his ice, his attempts to stop this only resulting in an explosion similar to his flashfreeze heatwave and sending him flying to the ground. A hand was already in his hair by the time he tried to scramble to his feet.

His breath caught as the hand in his hair tightened, and he automatically straightened to ease the pull, his hand reaching up to feel a scarred wrist, staples scraping against his palm. His hand cooled on instinct, frost spilling from his fingertips, but Shoto wasn’t sure if he’d be able to protect himself against Dabi’s fire at such a close range if the villain decided to burn him. This still didn’t stop him from jabbing an elbow back, trying to get a hit in though he couldn’t see the older man, he wasn’t about to be cooperative. 

“If you’re looking for Bakugou again, I’m not going to help you, so you’re wasting your time.”

Tetsutetsu BASHES down the door, one arm struggling to hold a cake that was twice the size of his head and the other pointing a hand right into Kirishima's face. "Bro............happy birthday time."

“Dude! Happy birthday!” Kirishima held a present up, beaming at his friend. It was a little odd at first realizing that they had the same birthday on top of their quirks being so similar, but now Kirishima was just happy to share his birthday with such a cool guy. “That cake looks awesome!”

Happy birthday Kirishima 💕💕💕