dabisair

[dabisair]

Things to do instead of talking to your f/o on c.ai:

draw something with them

write something with them

make an edit or other graphics of them. screenshot edits where you add your headcanons or other changes to their design are great too even if you don't commit to the new design

revisit your favorite scenes or even reconsume their entire source

go hunt for pictures of them you didn't save yet

go look for new fanart, fanfics, or other fan content made by others

gush to other people about them

talk about them in general even if it's not a gush. share your favorite fun facts, talk about their source, or share some headcanons

find someone to roleplay your f/o for you

make a journal page dedicated to them

write them a letter (and maybe write a response letter from their perspective too)

listen to songs that remind you of them. you could also make a 2010s style AMV of them with that song

[dabisair]

this coming year i want You 🫵, selfshipper, to never ever apologize for talking about your interests on your own blog. Each time you have the impulse to say sorry i want you to tell yourself Actually no i am NOT sorry and fuck everyone else. This year we are manifesting unapologetic i believe we can do it

[dabisair]

I once again am suddenly suffering from the sheer amount of FEELINGS I have for Dabi.

[dabisair]

Oh I need to come back to this blog HAHAHA with all my silly self-ship stuff

[dabisair]

for self shippers who feel alone...

your f/o wants you to feel at home with them. they never want you to feel alone again, not when they're at your side. no matter what, they're not going anywhere - they want to take your hand and make sure you know that you'll never have to be alone again. even when you feel alone, they're with you in the way only they know how to be, reassuring you that you will get through this night and the next ᯓ★

dividers made for me by kynibyou! ✦ prosh¡p dni.

[dabisair]

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

[dabisair]

Dabi,Touya,Rei and the Rindou

The flower near Rei’s windowsill is a Rindou or a Autumn bell flower in English. The Rindou carries abundant meanings in Japanese.I’m here to talk about what theses characters significance that correspond with the flower mean. I’m going to elaborate about it in this post. Since there was no resources and google searches in English for talking about this flower I did my own research with some help I asked someone to translate the Japanese text of the rindou in order to talk about the meaning of the flower with the characters. I looked it over and took apart the meanings.

Keep reading

[dabisair]

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: talk of death, reader is implied to be in therapy, Dabi is definitely nothing like Dabi, soft Dabi.

A/N: Uhh I guess I just need a hug? That's it, that's your summary too. Reader just needs a hug.

“Tell me why I’m humoring you right now.”

“Because you like me more than you want to admit.”

“Ha ha ha. Very funny, doll.”

“Because I knew you would be awake, and you knew you would answer?”

“Alright, alright,” Dabi sighs, shifting fabric reaching your ear as he moves, “so?”

“So…”

“Th’fuck’re you callin’ me for at two in the morning?”

“I don’t- sorry, I know, I just… I can’t put it into words, I guess.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t really have a reason to be here, you know?” you pick at your quilt. A panic attack was keeping you awake, and you hoped that talking to someone as apathetic and uncaring as your raven-haired paramore would help, “I don’t have a purpose.”

Dabi scoffs, the sharp sound of a lighter coming to life bringing a small smile to your lips, “not the person you should be talking to about that, doll. I ain’t no help. Call that stupid bird, he’s a hero, he can help.”

“Yeah, that’s why I called you. I’m offended, honestly. You think I’d call him? Ew. Gross. I’ll pass.”

The howl of laughter that escapes Dabi - pure delight and ecstasy at your disapproval in regards to the wing hero - brings a bigger smile to your lips. Calling Dabi, well, that was the right choice. Talking to him was already helping!

“Tell me what else you’d pass on~”

“Oh my god, everything? Whatever comes out of his mouth is just pretty words and prettier lies. I have no interest. There’s little he can do to actually keep my eye.”

“Yeah~? Glad you feel that way - but for what it’s worth, I still think you should have called him, not me.”

“Why, cuz I’m sad and lonely and hate every second I spend alive? Call him so that he can swoop in on his big wings and save me?”

“I mean, sure. Better than talking to a villain about it.”

“Hey,” you wet your lips, shifting on your bed, “you are a villain. You would do it if I asked you to, right?”

“Do what?”

“Kill me.”

His silence carries from where he is, to where you are, a terrible weight that sits on your shoulders. It forces a sigh from your lips, “living is difficult and I don’t like it. I don’t like difficult things. I don’t like working, but I don’t like having nothing to do. I don’t like being awake. I don’t like being alive. If I had a choice in the matter, I would have rather never been here a single second.”

Dabi maintains his silence, but his next breath is one of anger. His heat is palpable despite the distance between you.

“Keep talking like that and I will kill you.”

“Date and time?” you try to joke, a nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.

“You have the fuckin’ gall to ask me to kill you and then be afraid of the prospect?”

“Yeah? That’s the funny thing about it, D - or I guess, the annoying thing about it. I am scared. Maybe when it happens I won’t be, but y’know, I like to think about things.”

“Stop thinking about it, then.”

“I can’t turn it off like that,” you huff, leaning back against the headboard, “I try, promise.”

“If anyone should be thinking like that, it’s me, dumbass.”

“But you have a purpose. You have a drive. You have a reason to be here - what reason do I have? None.”

“You have a life,” he snaps, and you think that maybe he was right. You should have called Hawks, because in your knowledge of Dabi being a villain, you had always thought he would never be bothered by you talking about the things that troubled you the most.

Evidently, you were wrong; you were wrong because his breaths are heavy with anger, and his tone is laced with distress.

“Friends, family, you have that.”

“And they have each other. My friends have other friends. My family has other family. They don’t need me - I’m not needed. My presence it’s not… it’s not needed. I don’t bring anything special or important to anyone around me.”

“You little brat,” he spits; something breaks in the background, and you’re not sure where he is, but you’re immediately worried.

“Don’t do something stupid, D.”

His laugh is incredulous, “me do something stupid? Take a look in the mirror, baby! You don’t want me to do something stupid, then stop talking stupid.”

“... okay. Fine. I see your point. I still don’t want to be here.”

“Because no one needs you?”

“Yeah.”

“I need you.”

You jump in your skin, hearing double. There’s a knock at your window. You stare at him, leaning against the glass, eyes illuminated by the azure flames he has simmering in his chest.

“Uh--”

“That date and time you wanted? Right fucking now,” he gives your window a good whack with flat of his fist. The blow is strong enough to put a few cracks in the glass, “open the fucking window.”

You drop your phone on the nightstand, not as scared as you thought you might be. He’s pocketing his own phone by the time you get to the window and unlatch it to let him in. He backs you right up to your bed, knocking you down onto it with his chest.

His finger is in your face as he leans over you, rage making the skin under his eyes bubble, “I’m not your therapist.”

“Nope, no, no you’re not.”

“But I know when you’re panic-talking.”

“Source needed.”

“Source being how well I fucking know you.”

You reach up to cup his face in your hands, the realization settling in that you actually scared him. Now you feel the tears gathering in your eyes, taking a deep breath to stabilize yourself. It becomes more difficult when he covers one of your hands in his.

“Sorry,” you muster, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He makes no effort to deny it.

“I just - I just struggle to find a reason to be here - to want to be here. It takes too much effort to be alive.”

“Then let me be your reason - tonight, at least,” he leans back, balancing on his knees as he shucks off his jacket.

You feel infinite amounts better when his weight settles against you, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Weary eyes slide closed, fingers twisting in the back of his loose shirt.

“Next time, just tell me you need a hug.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll have to make this up to me,” his words are warm, face nuzzling against your neck.

“Okay.”

[dabisair]

Imagine your F/O kissing you.

No--no really imagine it.

Imagine the feeling of their lips on yours; thin or thick, moist or chapped. 

Imagine the feeling of thier breath on your face. 

Imagine the sensation of give as your lips and theirs touch.

Imagine how they hold you, and where they touch you as you kiss.

Imagine the feeling of their skin on yours.

Do they kiss you softly, and hesitantly? Rough and eager? Gentle and sensual?

If they deepen the kiss, imagine the taste of it on your lips and tongue.

Hold it in your mind, every little sensation and idea until it comes together and takes shape in your mind.

Imagine your F/O kissing you.

[dabisair]

The “accent” is based on Jenna Marble’s “How to care for your an Cermet” videos.

[dabisair]

OKAY I'M SORRY I POSTED THIS EARLIER THEN DELETED IT, BECAUSE I THOUGHT I ALREADY POSTED IT ON HERE AND WENT TO FIND IT TO REBLOG IT BUT THEN I COULDN'T FIND IT AND THEN I GOT DISTRACTED ANYWAY HERE HAVE THIS--

Based on this ask that @dabisqueen got like LAST FRIKKIN YEAR and my brain took it and ran with it HAHAHAH (this is my Bloody YN btw - I mean all my YN's will be drawn to look like me but that's besides the point HAHA)

[dabisair]

[dabisair]

Feels bad man

[dabisair]

Collection of sketches.

Actually love how Dabi looks in that 3rd sketch mgngngm,gnmfnfmn (the 4th one is nice too I should fix that up at some later date)

[dabisair]

[dabisair]

My contribution to self-ship stuff is this vile thing

[dabisair]

Our man is back!

Look at him - he's so gorgeous!!!! 💙💙💙💙