Bakusquad

ASHAUFISJSJIEJSSIDUDHSH THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE THIS

can you do some shinso stuff por favor 🙏

Yes, so this took a real while to do, so it's probs the last post for today. I hope you enjoy it because my Merafan brain took its precious time to figure something out <333

The Slowest Burn Crush Ever

Shinsou does not fall in love easily. He doesn’t get silly, fleeting crushes—he gets mild admiration that, over time, slowly morphs into something deeper. It starts with him noticing how capable you are, how you treat people, how you talk. It’s never about appearances for him—it’s about who you are.

At first, he’ll think, Yeah, they’re cool. Then it turns into I like being around them. Then one day, it hits him out of nowhere—Oh. I actually like them. Like, a lot. And when that realization finally dawns on him, he just sits there, staring into the void like, Well. This is inconvenient.

The worst part? He does not know how to handle it. He doesn’t get all flustered like some people—he just doesn’t know what to do with his feelings. So, he doesn’t confess right away. Instead, he just keeps treating you the same way, though maybe with more subtle actions—standing a little closer, paying more attention to your words, remembering details about you that even you forgot you mentioned. It’s not until someone points out that he obviously likes you that he even thinks about doing something about it.

Acts of Service Over Words

Shinsou isn’t bad with words, but when it comes to expressing his feelings? Yeah, that’s where he struggles. Compliments? They don’t come naturally to him. He won’t tell you every day that you look amazing or that he loves you—he’s just not that guy.

What is he good at? Actions. If you’re tired, he’ll pass you his scarf without saying a word. If you mention in passing that you like a certain snack, it’ll magically appear in your bag the next day. If you’re stressed, he’ll wordlessly slide a warm drink into your hands. And if you’re ever feeling unsafe? Yeah. He’s already handling it before you even have to say anything.

He thinks he’s being subtle about it, but it’s so obvious that he cares. He may not say “I love you” all the time, but his actions scream it.

Sleep-Deprived & Unbothered™

Shinsou is running on about three hours of sleep and sheer determination at all times. It’s impressive how he manages to function like that. He’s practically Aizawa’s sleepy, half-conscious mini-me. He can nap anywhere—on the couch, at his desk, standing up against a wall, on you.

If you’re sitting next to him and playing with his hair? Congrats, you just activated instant sleep mode. He will not fight it. He’s the type to casually drape an arm around you or just let you lean against him like it’s no big deal when, in reality, he’s so comfortable he doesn’t want to move.

Unhinged Half-Asleep Thoughts™

When Shinsou is seconds away from unconsciousness, his brain just malfunctions. He will casually say the most unhinged things with zero warning:

"Do you think pigeons have government jobs?"

"What if your reflection is just waiting for the right moment to switch places with you?"

"Would you still love me if I was a psychic worm?"

"What if we’re actually the aliens and we just don’t know?"

You’ll be lying there, all cozy and warm, and then he drops something like that. And the worst part? He never remembers saying any of it. The next morning, when you bring it up, he’ll just blink at you like, "I said that? Huh. Sounds like something I’d say."

Death Glare Supreme

Shinsou doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive to be intimidating—his glare is enough to make people reconsider their entire existence.

If someone ever makes you uncomfortable, he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t throw a fit—he just stares. That deadpan, sleep-deprived, completely unimpressed glare that makes people feel like they’ve just been judged by the universe itself. And it works every time.

The person will immediately back off, apologize, and probably question their life choices. Meanwhile, Shinsou will go right back to whatever he was doing, completely unbothered, sipping his coffee like nothing happened.

Scarf Grab – No Escape Allowed

If you dare steal something from him—his phone, his coffee, his hoodie—or, even worse, steal a kiss and try to run? Yeah. That scarf is coming for you.

One second, you think you’re getting away, and the next? You’re being yanked right back into his arms.

"You really thought you could escape?" (smug smirk, arms crossed).

He’ll let you go… eventually. But not before making you suffer through his smuggest, most insufferable expression ever.

Playing with his hair? Hell yah

Shinsou lets you do whatever you want with his hair. Mess with it, braid it, put in clips—he doesn’t care. Until you give him a front ponytail.

At first, he’s totally fine with it. "Yeah, whatever." Five minutes later? "Wait. No. I can’t sleep. My hair isn’t in my face. Fix it."

He likes the weight of his hair covering his face when he sleeps. It’s comforting. So while he’ll humor you and let you mess with it all you want, just don’t expect it to last long.

Gift-Giving God

Shinsou remembers everything you say, even when he looks like he’s not paying attention. You mention liking a certain kind of chocolate? It’s in your bag the next day. Casually say you wish you had a specific book or hoodie? Guess what magically appears in your hands.

And the most dangerous part? He plays it off like it’s no big deal.

"It’s not a big deal. I just remembered."

LIES. He planned it weeks in advance because he loves seeing you happy.

Cuddle? Oh, Absolutely.

Shinsou pretends to be indifferent, but the second you curl up against him? He’s done for. He lives for quiet, peaceful moments where he can just exist next to you. If you play with his hair while he dozes off? Congratulations, you just became his personal sleep aid.

He won’t say how much he loves it, but it’s obvious—especially when he subconsciously pulls you closer or leans into your touch without thinking.

Final Verdict:

Shinsou Hitoshi is dangerously boyfriend material. He’s smug, intimidating, and effortlessly cool—but also the softest, most secretly affectionate person ever. He won’t drown you in compliments or dramatic love confessions, but everything he does makes it clear that he’s completely in love with you.

And now? You’re stuck with him. 😤💜

Gods I hope it's worth the waiting T^T

cemetery mary headcanons

this is dedicated to my pookie Ms. Sprinkles

i hc mary to listen to alex g and elliott smith a lot (or whatever version of them they have lol)

crowven definitely would listen to the clash and bikini kill and bad brains imo

twyla is definitely a renee rapp stan

reginald probably listens to david bowie but i don’t like reginald

mary probably loves the it 2017 movie and forces crowven to watch it with her a lot

reginald would probably like american psycho but take it way too seriously

crowven likes fight club

reminder to trans, nonbinary, and any other non-cis people in the usa: there are people that love you and care about you. things are going to be okay, please don’t do anything drastic. i know things are scary right now but your lives are all worth so so much. don’t let him win. i love you

por que no age in bio dawg?

i want to remain anonymous >:)

Can I request an established relationship with katsuki x reader where reader has a healing quirk, but whateber injury she heals, she feels a fraction of the pain and drains her own energy.

she had to heal a lot of civilians in the mission and katsuki finds her before she passes out

Borrowed Pain

The battlefield was finally quiet. Smoke and dust still clung to the air, the acrid scent of destruction mixing with the metallic tang of blood. It had been a brutal fight—villains tearing through the city like a wildfire, leaving behind wreckage, wounded civilians, and far too much loss.

But you had done your part.

Your hands trembled as you pressed them against another injured civilian’s body, your quirk flickering to life in a soft, golden glow. You gritted your teeth as their deep gash slowly sealed itself shut, your skin prickling with the familiar burn of borrowed pain. The moment the wound disappeared, a sharp sting lanced through your own abdomen—a phantom pain, a fraction of what they had endured, but enough to make your breath hitch.

You had lost count of how many people you had healed.

Your body was barely holding together. Each time you healed someone, it took something from you—your energy, your strength, your stability. The worst part wasn’t even the fatigue; it was the cumulative pain, layer upon layer of injuries you hadn’t actually sustained, but still felt as if you had. Your arms ached as if they’d been broken and reset a dozen times over. Your ribs throbbed with phantom bruises. Your head was spinning from the strain.

But you couldn’t stop.

Not when another civilian, a mother clutching her unconscious daughter, was crying out for help.

Not when people needed you.

You forced yourself forward, dragging your heavy limbs across the debris-littered ground. You sank to your knees beside them, nearly toppling over from the sheer effort of staying upright. The little girl was breathing, but her leg was bent at an unnatural angle. Fractured, at the very least.

You exhaled shakily. “I’m going to fix her,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, because the mother’s sobs made it clear she wasn’t hearing anything beyond her own panic.

You placed your hands on the girl’s leg and summoned what little energy you had left. The glow of your quirk was duller now, weaker. You weren’t even sure if you had enough in you to mend the break.

But you had to try.

The moment the healing process started, a searing pain shot through your own leg. You bit down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the strangled sound of pain that threatened to escape. It felt like your bone had snapped, like the marrow itself was burning—but then, after a few agonizing seconds, it was gone.

The girl stirred with a soft whimper, her leg whole again.

But you—

The world tilted violently. Your vision blurred, colors bleeding together in a hazy mess. You tried to push yourself up, to move onto the next person, but your limbs refused to cooperate.

Your heart pounded sluggishly in your chest. You could barely feel the ground beneath you.

Too much.

You had given too much.

Your body swayed, and just as you felt yourself pitching forward, a voice—loud, rough, unmistakable—cut through the fog in your mind.

“The hell do ya think you’re doing?!”

A pair of strong arms caught you before you could hit the ground. The scent of burnt caramel filled your senses, familiar and grounding. Katsuki.

You wanted to say something, to reassure him that you were fine, that you just needed a second, but the moment you met his gaze, the words died in your throat.

His expression—fierce, scowling—was betrayed by the sheer panic in his crimson eyes. His hands, calloused but warm, cradled you carefully, as if afraid you’d break apart if he held you any tighter.

"You overdid it again, dumbass,” he growled, voice thick with frustration. “I told ya not to push yourself like this!"

You tried to smile, tried to play it off, but even that was too much effort. “People needed help,” you mumbled instead, eyelids fluttering.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, his jaw clenching. “And what about you, huh? Who the hell’s gonna help you when you’re passin’ out on the goddamn street?!”

You had no answer.

Because, deep down, you hadn’t even considered yourself.

You had only been thinking about them.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, exhaustion wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Your body felt weightless and unbearably heavy all at once, limbs refusing to respond, breath shallow and uneven.

Katsuki tightened his grip, as if he could physically hold you together with just his arms alone. His heart was pounding against your cheek. “Don’t you dare pass out,” he muttered, shaking you slightly. “Oi, stay with me.”

But you couldn’t.

You fought it—really, you did—but the darkness was already creeping in, dragging you under. The last thing you felt before everything went black was Katsuki pulling you closer, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the icy numbness in your veins.

And the last thing you heard was his voice, raw and desperate.

“I got you, alright? Just—fuck—just stay with me.”

*-*-*-*

Your eyelids felt like lead, heavy and unyielding, but the warmth pressed against your side was familiar. It anchored you, coaxing you from the depths of unconsciousness. The air was different here—cleaner, free of smoke and dust, carrying the faint antiseptic scent of a medical ward.

You stirred, your body protesting with a dull, lingering ache. Every muscle felt wrung out, every nerve frayed at the edges. A low, irritated grunt sounded beside you.

"'Bout damn time you woke up."

The voice—gruff and unmistakable—sent a wave of relief through your foggy mind. You managed to pry your eyes open, blinking against the dim light. Katsuki was slouched in a chair beside your bed, arms crossed, brows furrowed in a scowl that didn’t quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His usual hero gear had been replaced with a simple black shirt and sweatpants, but he still looked battle-worn—his hands wrapped in gauze, a faint bruise darkening his cheekbone.

"Katsuki…?" Your voice came out hoarse, your throat dry and sore.

His scowl deepened. "Yeah, dumbass. Who else would be here watchin’ your reckless ass?"

You tried to push yourself up, but the moment you moved, a sharp pain lanced through your limbs. Katsuki was there in an instant, his hands firm but careful as he eased you back against the pillows. "The hell do ya think you’re doin’? Lay the fuck down."

A weak chuckle escaped you. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"Yeah? Well, servin’ yourself up on a silver platter like that’ll do that to ya." His voice was gruff, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed something deeper—anger, frustration… concern.

You let your head rest against the pillow, exhaling softly. "How long was I out?"

Katsuki hesitated, then muttered, "Almost two days."

Your eyes widened. "Two—?" You tried to sit up again, only for his hand to press firmly against your shoulder, keeping you down with surprising gentleness.

"I swear to god, if you don’t stop fuckin’ movin’, I’ll tie you to the damn bed."

You huffed a tired laugh but obeyed, sinking back. "What happened?"

Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair. "You pushed yourself way too far. You were burnin’ up, shakin’ like a damn leaf. Could barely fuckin’ breathe." His fingers curled into fists. "You scared the shit outta me."

That last part was muttered under his breath, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it. But you did. And it sent warmth blooming in your chest, even through the exhaustion.

"I just…" You swallowed, throat tight. "People needed me."

"Yeah? And what, you don’t?" Katsuki snapped, eyes flashing. "You think you can just keep throwin’ yourself away for everyone else and it won’t fuckin’ matter?"

His words struck something deep inside you, something raw and unspoken. You had always known the risks of your quirk. The cost of healing. But you had never really thought about what it did to you—only what it did for others.

Katsuki dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard. "Look, I get it. You wanna help people. That’s what heroes do. But not at the damn expense of your own life, dumbass."

You hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don’t know how to stop."

For a moment, he just stared at you, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then, with a sigh, he shifted closer, resting his forearms on the edge of the bed. "Then I’ll make sure you do."

His voice had lost its usual bite, softened into something steadier. A promise.

You met his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself lean into the warmth of someone else’s care.

"Okay."

rocker sero hcs

bro plays guitar

specifically rhythm guitar

is always high at band practice and claims it helps him play better

constantly losing picks everywhere

the trail to everywhere he walks is like in hansel and gretel except instead of crumbs it’s guitar picks

has a black and yellow electric guitar

will stop playing to start dancing if the song is extra good

give me requests for others if yall are liking this rocker thing

ps: there’s this guy im in a show with who is literally sero and i love him and his gf so much they’re literally like my mother and father

I just rewatched x men and oh my god hugh jackman is so cutie patootie

every time i watch a recent marvel movie it makes me want to reboot the whole thing and do my own casting and switch it up lmk if yall are interested in my personal new castings and plots of marvel movies (specifically avengers)

Who do you simp for?

no one. i am beyond the mere mortal concept of simping.

(bakugo)

#chatdontcancelmeim15

Not the censoring of Minetas name 💀

Blud HATES Mineta

well i mean he doesn’t have any redeeming qualities 🤷‍♀️

this is so cuteeeee

can you do bakugo x a super independent reader

It wasn’t specified so I’ll do headcannons for this one I hope that’s okay!

M.list

Taglist

Bakugo x Hyper Independent Reader | Headcannons

Your independence is what drew him to you in the first place

He’s so used to everyone feeling too much for him to deal with so it’s refreshing

He’s independent too, for better or worse. So he relates to you.

And he doesn’t have any reason to call you an idiot, cause you’re not pestering him all the time.

He respected and didn’t think too much into your nature for a while, until he noticed you’ve been wearing yourself a bit thin lately.

He didn’t say anything but he noticed you being tired

He brushed it off until it led to some sort of mistake in training, or even a villain fight causing you to be injured.

Your refusal to lean on anyone affected your work and ultimately your health and health couldnt just watch it anymore.

So of course, he confronted you about your refusal to accept help.

He felt like a hypocrite but not the point.

“No ones gonna hold it against you if you need someone to cover you sometimes. Most of our class are idiots who can’t tie their own shoes anyway.”

You of course try to assure there’s nothing to worry about. It was a one time incident.

“Be as independent as you want. I don’t care. But when it starts putting you in danger don’t be surprised when I come in and save your ass!”

And my “danger” and “saving” he starts doing small things for you on the day to day. Telling you it means absolutely nothing.

In his mind, any little thing you don’t have to do will make it less and less likely for you to exhaust yourself in the future.

—————

Taglist: @dirtbagattack