(I just like sending this blog asks I'm so sorry if this is getting annoying)
Hi hi again Dust :D how are you?
(Dw, you're fine lol!)
Dust looked up at you with a blank expression, seemingly having gotten a bit used to your arrival. He was holding a bowl of cereal. That was on fire. That he was eating- or well, attempting to eat -with a knife.
"...Still alive, somehow."
73 notes
·
View notes
imagine this: akutagawa x pastel goth reader
God yes, I've been thinking about this since you sent it. I don't have a lot to say but Akutagawa would look so hot with his big tiddy pastel goth gf???? Especially if she was already tall but wore platform boots to be even taller than him??? He'd fucking love burying his face in her chest. His coworkers would be so baffled to see him walking around with a tall goddess like that. They wouldn't know whether to be afraid of her bc she has the black boots and fishnets and chains but she's also got pretty light blue hair the color of the sky and a pastel purple crop top with a big heart cutout right on the cleavage. Akutagawa's straight up growling and barking at people if he catches them looking at his girl, only he's allowed to look into the keyhole cutout on her boobies!!!! Only he's allowed to carry the chain that connects to her pastel pink collar She's probably a much needed ray of sunshine for him too. He'd be wrapped around her fucking finger bro he'd do anything for her the way Wan!akutagawa is obsessed with Dazai and waits on him hand and foot
73 notes
·
View notes
YOU MADE MORE OF THEEEMMMMM OHMIGOSH OHMIGOSH OHMIGOSH!!!!!
I WANNA LOVINGLY PUT THEM IN MY BACKPACK FOR SAFEKEEPING!!!! /aff /plat /gen /pos
I WANNA DRAW THEM ALL SO BADLY
AHSAHSA YEAH I DREW ALL OF THEM + i also made a Nikolai one last minute since a discord buddy wanted him hehe
he's my favorite i think,,,, HSHASHHS
306 notes
·
View notes
completely agree that inumaki is slept on! he's so precious and a really interesting character. i've always had a little headcanon/scenario of him falling for a reader who has a beautiful voice and loves to sing. something something their voice brings joy while his brings pain. (<- no pressure to do anything with this ofc i just wanted to share :3)
Ooooooh Okay, I'm loving this. I did an Inumaki drabble before about him overhearing Reader singing to music while wearing her headphones... but this angsty angle is too delicious to not do something with it.
Special Note: While this drabble is SFW, my overall blog is not and contains 18+ writing and commentary. Minors and ageless blogs DNI and do not follow or you will be blocked!
Inumaki and a Reader Who Sings
Warnings: none; just a wee bit of angsty pining; reader is GN (no pronouns, no physical descriptors)
Inumaki loved music, and he loved to sing. Well, he would if he could. Instead, he had to resort to humming, keeping his cursed technique under tight control.
He wished he could say he'd grown used to it. He'd accepted that this was his life, his burden to bear within his clan. It was his inheritance, a crown he couldn't remove. And he had gotten used to it, for the most part, his frustration gradually fading to quiet acceptance, unwilling to let near muteness impede his ability to enjoy his youth.
That is, until he heard you sing.
And suddenly, that old ache of longing returned, the richness of your notes pulling forth feelings he'd long since learned to ignore.
He first heard you sing during karaoke night. You belted out the words, laughing and smiling, full of joy. It was contagious, seeping deep into his bones until he realized his heart was pounding, his palms were sweaty, and his brain was lightheaded. And all he could focus on, all that mattered in that moment, through the smokey haze and the loud din, was you. You, you, you.
Inumaki wanted nothing more than to join you, sing the song with you, look into your happy eyes with a smile of his own and be with you.
But he couldn't. Instead, he remained separate; an observer. And for the first time in a long time, he hated his inheritance.
The next time he heard you sing was when you were cleaning the empty classroom in the light of the late afternoon.
It was softer this time, the silliness gone, leaving only crisp notes on a clear melody. It was a song that Inumaki knew, one he liked. He stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall where you couldn't see him.
'It must be nice,' he thought, 'to be able to sing like that...'
The joy of song, of music, was such a raw, precious thing. To be able to convey feelings in such a way, to tell stories, to simply bring forth happiness in one's self, or at the very least, self-soothe a tired heart.
Inumaki didn't have that luxury; his voice was made for pain, not joy. Not just pain for others, although he sometimes used it to save; but pain for himself. Every time he used his voice, it ripped through his body, carving itself deep into his throat and into his lungs like thorny vines choking a tree.
If only he could flourish the way you did, stretch himself closer to the bright blue sky and have just a touch of that limitlessness that singing provided.
But he couldn't. It was impossible. Inumaki would never be able to sing, not like that.
So he'd trade one dream for another, the dream of being able to hold you while you sang, press his hear to your chest so he could feel that magic resonate within you. If only you could let him drink the overflow of your heart, let him have a small taste of the joy and freedom that was always visible for him and yet forever untouchable.
If only you'd allow such intimacy...
Instead, Inumaki unzips the collar of his jacket and leans his head back against the wall, his eyes lost in that far distant place where your voice guides him. He doesn't speak; he knows better... but he mouths the words, follows the shape of the lyrics to feel the ghost of freedom on his tongue. And while he silently joins you, his mind is imagining the softness of your lips as they guide him to a place only you can show him.
43 notes
·
View notes