#pm writes

[sualne]

your body isn't your own

[mikichko]

⛔ this blog is 18+ !! minors and ageless blogs please dni ⛔

have some brainrot: adoptive parents ghoap

soap and ghost who are officially out. both from the military and to their families. they don't really care about the world. respectfully, fuck those cunts

married, with a house, and a fully adopted kid. a bright, spunky, amazing little five-year-old who fits right into their little family. they love him to death. dote on him in their own special riley-mactavish way.

the problems arise once their little bairn gets enrolled in school. the first few weeks go by fine, adjustment period and all. but once he's past it, the calls start coming. and after the calls there are meetings. conversations carry on for weeks on end, with no resolution in sight.

aggressive, they call him. a distraction, says another. they use the word dangerous to describe the sweet little boy sitting just outside the door. their sweet little boy. the same one that hides behind simon's leg whenever they pass a dog that's just a tad too big on the street. who licks the back of the spatula after johnny finishes mixing color into frosting.

and it's not like they were unaware of his history. they knew his mother had been abusing substances all throughout her pregnancy. knew what the state of the home was when child protection services rescued their little boy. they were well aware of what could come from it all.

what they weren't aware of was the absolute disdain that adults, more importantly, those tasked with caring for children, would have towards him. anger and disgust directed at a child who wasn't even at fault for the circumstances that led him there. just casting him aside, labeling him as defective from the beginning without even giving him a chance.

until you pop up of course. directing a particularly nasty look at the balding man who called their boy dangerous.

"he wouldn't be reacting like that if he didn't have external factors agitating him david." you speak his name as if forming each syllable was the single most disgusting act of your entire life.

the man doesn't hesitate to snarl back at you, some lousy excuse of how the world will have plenty of external factors agitating him. he simply can't coddle a child when the world won't do the same.

you claw at the armrests, glaring at him as you push yourself forward and speak through gritted teeth, "he's a goddamn child. we are the ones tasked with prepping him for the world. how the hell do you expect him to adapt if we don't even give him the skills he needs to do that?"

baldie revs himself for another go at you but the headmistress interrupts, guiding the conversation away from your tiff. the boys don't miss how you push your glasses up your nose with your middle finger. all while holding eye contact with the bald dickhead in the tweed blazer.

the conversation carries on and unceremoniously lands on the same conclusion it always does: the behavior needs to be curbed, otherwise he won't last here much longer.

they've already reigned themselves to the fact, already looking up the other schools in their area, when you stop them, holding the door as the last staff member slips out of the room.

"mr. and mr. mactavish," soap stifles a snort, "I know for a fact that conversation was completely unhelpful. frankly, a waste of your time. but I'd like just another moment with you two if that's okay with you?"

they nod, moving to sit, but you don't follow. instead, you poke your head out the door, "hey Z! So sorry you've been waiting so long buddy. I just have to talk to your daddies for a few more minutes. that alright with you?"

that makes both of them straighten. addressing him directly, not just speaking at him, while letting him know of the situation and asking for his permission? not something they'd seen from any of the school staff before.

they hear his small "yes ma'am" through the open door and you shoot him a smile before closing it. you sit yourself down in front of them, opening up a folder, "apologies again for that lot of clowns. they seem to forget that we don't come out of the womb with the emotional regulation switch flipped on"

simon grunts but it's johnny who speaks up, "didnae know youse were running a circus here."

you snort, "definitely making fools of themselves. can't say i've any tricks to make myself look as goofy as them. but," you pause as you rifle through some papers before your eyes light up, "I do have spreadsheets and timesheets!"

you lay out two stacks in front of them, "i've been tracking Zach's behavioral changes along with what we deduce were his triggers on these sheets," you tap the left most stack of blue papers, "and his medication dosage along with the time taken here."

you fold your hands, giving them a moment to absorb the information you've dropped on them. it's meticulous and incredibly well-documented. the behavioral outburst sheets even have the times and dates for each occurrence. you've also added little notes for many of the incidents. there's a 'fuck david' that you'd tried to scribble out but were not fully successful in doing so.

ghost rubs a finger across the inky mess, "he talks to you about his fits then?"

"aye, he does sir. it takes a bit of time but we manage to work through it. usually a drink of something cold and a snuggle with something soft seems to do the trick."

"oh did ye find that out on your own? am sorry. should have sent a note," soap apologizes as he rifles through his papers.

you wave him off, "no need mister mactavish. your boy is very good at communicating. it seems that the adults here just have a hard time listening."

"now," you reach across the table handing them identical sheets, "I'm thinking that both of you want to stop these oh-so-lovely monthly chats. and this," you tap your third identical paper, "is the solution for this."

"it's a joint emotional management endeavor, carried out both at home and here at school. you and your husband would be the primary handlers at home and I'll be the handler here. it's a multi-week program with a focus on reaction handling after a triggering event and exercises he can enact when overwhelmed"

there's a bout of silence as the two of them absorb everything that you've handed them. no one else, aside from family, ever offered this kind of care and handling for their boy before. to know that there's been someone not just looking out for their baby but researching ways to help him? it stirs something in both of them.

"why're you doin' this?" ghost scratches out.

you tilt your head, "mister mactavish, i'm an educator. but above else i'm a caretaker. i'm with these children almost as much as they're with you. it's my job to help shape and mold these children into the best version of themselves they can be."

"i happen to think that little boy out there deserves a chance to show the world how good he is. don’t you think so too?”

[cicutagreninja]

a imprisoned (possibly feral?) whumpee having a panic attack after waking up in the cell. Thrashing around in a blind panic, maybe hitting their head if in a tiny space. Maybe screaming for help. Caretaker finally being allowed to come in and calm them down.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re okay, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. J-just breathe for me for a second, okay?”

[aluraveil]

yandere ex pm dazai x reader

im imagining a scenario where it turns out that pm dazai doesnt really love you and that you were just a toy for him to play around with..

you're angry and rightfully upset and you're in tears and sobbing. you thought dazai loved you and it turns out that he didnt? what a sick joke.

buuuut then dazai sort of realizes that he's alone without you. there's a sick feeling of regret crawling up his spine.

and once he starts to regret, it hits him hard. he went from not caring and then did a whole 180 and started to miss you a lot.

once hes in the phase where regret eats up at him, he's quite literally scary as fuck. all of a sudden he becomes more agitated, more selfish, and has less patience.

all of his subordinates and people working under him can tell that dazai is a time ticking bomb about to explode. when he regrets, dazai becomes more aggressive and downright scary. if his men fail a mission they are all getting severely punished. dazai just doesn't have the patience anymore.

it doesn't get any better when he becomes the port mafia's boss. if anything, he becomes even worse. if you thought mafia executive 'Demon Prodigy' dazai was scary, you haven't seen anything.

as the boss of the port mafia, dazai is naturally in charge of everything that happens as he quite literally is the highest ranking member of the mafia because he's the leader. during the time period he takes over as the boss, nobody even wants to mess with him.dazai has much more influence over everything during this time and you can bet that he has been watching over you for quite some time.

it doesn't take long for dazai to snatch you back up. he quite literally was 'suffering' and in so much 'pain' without you even when it was clearly his fault. you cant blame yourself for leaving him. who wants to be with someone who doesnt love you? nobody right?

during this time, he tries to run into you by coincidence. at this point he sometimes runs into you if you worked at a restaurant or something. he tries to play it cool but you both know what his true intentions are and it doesn't need to be said out loud.

you however, are downright terrified. this is literally the same guy who committed 625 counts of fraud. 625. not to mention he is the literal boss of the port mafia. the boss. the frickin boss.

you're scared because you dont believe he will show any mercy towards you. this is because the two of you arent 'lovers' (you don't know if the both of you ever were because dazai didnt hold any feelings for you) and he probably sees you as nothing more than a stupid idiot. this is not the same dazai you loved. this is the dazai that doesnt love you meaning that he doesnt care about you which in turn means that if something happened to you, he just straight up doesnt care.

he starts calling you 'belladonna' and 'darling' again which feels awkward and disgusting. whenever he calls you that you straight up wince and cringe and you don't even try to hide it. there's a whole wave of awkwardness that lingers in the air when you just reply back with a "..hi?.." dazai senses that the tension in the air is so thick that you could slice through it but him being him he just straight up dgaf.

you're not thrilled to see him whatsoever. when he comes here he doesn't even order any food and just tries to talk to you. he always leaves you a huge tip when he does leave though. you never take it though. you dont want his money. the next time he does come you give the money back to him and but he refuses to take it back saying "you've been working so hard belladonna, you deserve to treat yourself." again with the belladonna thing. it doesnt feel right for him to call you that at all.

dazai knows that youre refusing his advances but it doesnt stop him from trying. afterall you loved him once. thats all that matters. its only the results that matter in the end right?

right?

...

maybe.

[edsbacktattoo]

one of my favourite things about season 2 is 'you wear fine things well' 2.0. like that phrase means so much to us, the super sexy audience, so knowing that it means a lot to Ed AND Stede as well?? oh my god. it means enough to the both of them that when Ed says it, Stede immediately knows what he's getting at. like sure he's saying 'you wear fine things well' with his big baby cow eyes and his little kitty cat collar but what he means is, 'this was the moment i fell in love with you. and now i'm saying it back.' and they put that in the tv show that we, the super sexy audience, watched. fucking cinema.

[addsalwayssick]

@rosekillermicrofic || prompt: domestic || word count: 665

Barty collapsed onto the floor from Evan’s bed, fake sobbing onto the ground. “What do you mean you won’t go to Hogsmeade with me?” He gasped in between over exaggerated sobs.

Evan gave him a look from where he was sat at the desk in the corner. “You know why,” he told Barty. “I’ve got a date with that one bird.”

Barty immediately sobered up. “So she’s more important than your best friend now?” Barty asked sarcastically.

Evan sighed. “Don’t be like that.”

“Be like what?” Barty grumbled.

Evan side eyed him, turning back to his homework. “I’ll go with you next weekend,” He murmured as he wrote on his paper.

“That’s what you said last weekend,” Barty reminded him, packing his things.

“Well it just came up, Bee. She wanted to go and I couldn’t refuse,” Evan said as he pondered the next question.

“Yeah sure, break your promises to your best friend so that you can make your little girlfriend happy. Whatever, Evan,” Barty said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Evan asked, turning around to look at Barty.

“To go get your girlfriend to keep you company since you obviously don’t need me anymore.” Barty said in a false cheery tone.

“Don’t say things you know aren’t true.” Evan glowered.

Barty shrugged. “You’ve shown what I mean to you as soon as you get someone you love more than me,” He smiled casually, though it was fake.

“I don’t love her more than you,” Evan said before he can stop himself.

Barty scoffed. “Whatever. See you later.” Barty started to walk towards the door.

“Barty,” Evan tried, getting up.

Barty just shook his head and stepped out of the dorm room.

Evan sat on the place where he had been, where the warmth was still there. He looks to his side, where the hoodie that Barty left was still there. Evan pulled the hoodie over his head and smelled it.

“We’ve got to break up,” Evan said, cringing internally. “It’s not working anymore.”

“What do you mean?” His girlfriend asked, her voice breaking.

“Look, you’re just not-“

“Barty. Yeah I know. I should’ve fucking seen it.” She said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Evan asked, grimacing.

“Why shouldn’t I?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

“I haven’t told him,” Evan said softly.

She just rolled her eyes and stormed away, leaving Evan in the halls.

The rumor spread fast, like the plague. Speaking of the plague, Barty was avoiding him like it.

Or at least he was until Barty came into his dorm with red eyes. “Is it true?” He choked out.

“Is what true?” Evan asked, already fearing what’s to come.

“You know what,” Barty hissed.

“I didn’t know you were like your father,” Evan spat, fight or flight kicking in. “Constantly assuming things,”

Barty’s face hardened. “So it was a joke. Knew you were as bad as the rest of them. Tease the fucking gay kid,” Barty choked on his own bile as tears spilled down his face. “I thought you accepted me?”

Evan’s face softened. “Bee what are you talking about?”

Barty’s face sported a confused expression. “You pretending to like me?”

“Why would that make you sad?” Evan asked.

Barty furrowed his eyebrows. “Because I like you? And you’re pretending,” Barty laughed humorously. “Man I thought you were smarter than that.”

“You like me?” Evan inquired, his eyebrows shooting up. “Fuck, Barty i’m not pretending.”

“What?”

“I’m not pretending.” Evan said, getting up.

“You’re not? You like me? You’re gay? What?” Barty breathed.

Evan took him by his tie and pulled him in, pressing his lips to Barty’s. Barty immediately put his hands under Evan’s shirt.

They heard the door open and a few scoffs. They heard Pandora whisper “Gotcha,” And Dorcas say, “Fuck,” With a few coins clattering.

But the thing that made them laugh the most was, “God, you guys need to be domesticated” from Regulus.

[triangular-static]

look i understand if people just don't like the idea of billford, i think we have a different internal concept of what shipping means (they're not good for each other at all but i need to dissect their dynamic like a bug. you understand. it's fun) but it's fine to avoid things you don't like, good for you genuinely

however people saying they like. don't see it. like. i'm not saying there's no platonic way to read it, i'm aroace spec myself i'm all for reading things in different ways. but i do think saying they weren't partners in any queer sense at all is trying too hard to go against what the narrative is trying to say, or missing it. somehow

anyway media literacy time if a character makes a joke like this

and the previous context of that joke within the show is that it's about an ex wife. what connection do you think the text is trying to get you to make.

and that's just from a writing point of view. not even noting that from an in universe perspective ford likely knows the joke from the same source as stan. and is therefore. placing himself in that role of the joke are you seeing where i'm coming from

(not to mention bill's side of this text which is. extremely manipulative but also does not read very platonic. again, it can technically be read as platonic! bill literally can manipulate ford's feelings. but the specific wording used is very much meant to look like possessive ex partner wording whether the character means it that way or not. it's coding. look again i'm not saying it was good for them i'm just saying there was something there.)

and then there's also the divorce/break up/rock bottom input on the website. like. how else is that supposed to be read. and the corresponding page in the book itself.

the language being used here. like yes he's saying it in a joking way but then there's the other side that isn't joking which is him crying at the bar. it's the both sides (the very coded language on top of the very genuine emotions and dynamic beneath)

i know most of us are on the same page with this i've just seen a couple people saying they don't see it when this is some of the most clear cut coding i've ever seen. and these are just the things that explicitly reference a relationship off the top of my head i'm not even including the general vibes of Everything

tl;dr it's barely even subtext anymore it's all but straight up text. what's not clicking have we forgotten what coding is (lighthearted i just enjoy the phrase what's not clicking. what's not clicking)

[seratopia]

hobie brown x reader (fluff) - eyeliner → she/her pronouns!

hobie loves asking you to do eye makeup for him

"Sweets! C'mere for a sec!"

Your ears perk up when you hear Hobie from the other room, amidst slathering on a moisturizer onto your face.

"Hold on! I'm doing skincare!" You exclaim, hoping he heard you.

"C'mon already!" Hobie yells, and you fight every urge to roll your eyes as you rub in the last bit of your face lotion.

"Okay, okay!"

Hobie smirks when you dip into his bedroom, reaching out his hands to beckon you closer. The fluffy lounge set you're in makes him want to handle you more, his fingers subconsciously drawing in towards you.

You stick out like a sore thumb against the different shades of black in his room, studded belts and punk magazines scattered on the ground. Lazily, he's seated on the edge of his bed, his worn-out guitar sprawled across his charcoal-black sheets.

Those silver-ringed hands slip onto the curves of your waist, snaking their way up your back to tug you closer to him. You almost shiver at the feeling of so much metal. Cockily, he stares at your face, cheekily dragging you so that his face his a hair close to your chest.

"What is it, Hobie?" You ask, smoothing your fingers through his kinky hair. Hobie likes it when you trace your thumb over all of his piercings.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Hobie pulls out an eyeliner pen, flipping it smoothly through his fingers. Hobie chuckles a little, squeezing at the fat of your sides. There's a glint in his eye; excitement.

"Y'always talk about puttin' makeup on me, so I'm givin' you a try."

Hobie's smirk widens when he sees you light up in excitement, allowing you to slip the eyeliner pen from his fingers.

"Right now?" You ask, and Hobie squeezes you. He nods, shoving his face right up at you to emphasize.

"Do an edgy look for me, yeah? Don't be afraid t'smudge it a li'l."

So, while Hobie sits at the edge of his bed, he indulgently allows himself to wrap his arms around you, tilting his head upwards so you can paint on the makeup properly. You're parked right in the gap between his legs, closing in the little distance you have with Hobie to perfect the look.

While you stand there, bracing Hobie's face with one hand, he just takes it upon himself to stare at your concentrated expression. He hates to admit but he loves the close proximity.

"Hobie, you gotta close your eyes for me to do it."

The boy shuts his eyes closed, flinching just the tiniest bit when the tip of the pen first meets his skin. You build up a fine line at the outer corner of his eyelid, making it an effort to upturn the wing just the slightest bit.

For the last part, you draw a somewhat messy line underneath his lower lash line, smearing black onto only the outer side. Taking your finger, you smudge the black while its still wet, blurring out the line until whats left under his eye looks like black shadow.

Hobie resists every urge to open his eyes, every nerve screaming at him to keep them shut. For now, he makes due with what he can, squishing a little too close to your butt, or running his thumbs over where your rib cage is.

"I finished the first eye, wanna see?" You ask.

He opens his eyes back up, relishing the sigh of you until he has to close them again. You step away elsewhere to search for a good-sized mirror, and Hobie reluctantly lets go.

You come back with a hand mirror, and Hobie feels his eye itch just a little, probably from the eyeliner. You hand him the mirror, and it makes you a little nervous. At the end of the day, you just want him to like it.

You watch as Hobie examines the first eye, tilting his face from side to side with a smile forming on his mouth.

"Wow, y'did a nice job. I like the smudging right 'ere." Hobie explains, pointing his finger up to his under eye.

You smile, taking the mirror from his hand so you could continue the other eye.

"Y'know... I think I might ask'ya to do this more often." Hobie says, mindlessly tapping his fingers against your back. The way you handle his face almost makes him melt.

"You're good at makeup."

You chuckle a little, swiping the pen away to press a gentle kiss to Hobie's forehead. The way he smiles is so cute, how you can feel his cheeks warm under your fingertips.

"If you wanted to be with me, you could'a just asked, Hobie." You giggle, gently poking the corner of his other eyelid with the pen.

"I'm serious!" Hobie laughs, his eyes still closed. "I look like Cooper, y'know who Cooper is?"

"The guy that gave you a spare guitar string?" You ask.

"Yeah, he's a good man, had this really wicked eyeliner on."

With a final swoop of your wrist you finish his other eye, your vision ping-ponging between the two wings to make sure they're symmetrical.

"Done!" And you hand Hobie the mirror again, intently watching his expressions. Again, he tilts his head from side to side, an impressed smile on his face. It looks really good on him, perfect for one of his shows.

"Wow, sweets, this is really sick. Bet I'd give Cooper a run for his money, yeah?" Hobie says, standing up from his bed. You giggle into his chest when he pulls you in, repaying you for the earlier kiss with one on the crown of your head.

"You think so?" You ask, and Hobie nods.

"Get dressed and I can take us to The Crown, bet Cooper's there havin' a drink or two." He cockily states, making you playfully roll your eyes. You're expecting him to show up Cooper, pridefully pointing to his eyes to say, "Yeah, my girl did that."

"I'd like that." You say, untangling yourself from Hobie to search for something on the floor to wear. You leave some of your clothes in his room anyway. He lets go of you, watching you skim through his wardrobe.

"How 'bout that l'il dress, the short one you always like? We can match." Hobie suggests, placing his hands underneath his head and leaning back into his bed.

"It's all the way over at my flat." You reply, and Hobie springs back up, already pulling his spider mask out of his worn-out vest pocket.

"I can go get it, if you want."

"I think you want it more than I do, Hobie." You shrug, Hobie already a third of his way out the window.

"Be back in a sec!"

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[wroteclassicaly]

No one really prepared you for it. They’d told you, sure, but you were always scared, always afraid you’d do something wrong to hurt him, that it would be painful for you, that he wouldn’t be attracted to you after it was over, that things would smell that shouldn’t. Should you do this, should you do that? A plethora of reasons came with why you had remained a virgin until you were in your 20’s.

And then you had sex with Eddie Munson…

He admires your stamina, your newly accumulated energy. How you went from this shy girl with tears in her eyes the first time he pressed into your cunt and nearly blew his load then and there, to the girl that insisted on having her mouth, hand, or pussy around his cock a majority of the time. You weren’t scared any longer, but hungry, fucking starved for it after you had a taste. Sex is amazing, and Eddie Munson is your dedicated god to worship.

That smart ass mouth, those talented fingers. If you weren’t touching yourself thinking about them, you were begging him, teasing him for them. It didn’t matter where you were, either. Eddie had through his magazines and interest within their centerfold contents made him the freak, but you were into anything. Even camping with your friends didn’t stop you.

As soon as the tent was up, the rain shrouded everyone’s activities for the better part of the evening, you were shoving Eddie into the wind-whipped material and closing it with a hasty ease, not even bothering with its unclosed flaps. You had shoved his shirt up, pulled on his chain, helped him assist in getting his pants below his ass, and your panties were pulled to the side as you rode him with focussed vigor.

“Love this, Eds. You always feel so good.”

You babble when you’re gone. Eddie is arching, trying not to be your little puppet, but with your warm and wet pussy bouncing on him, your cream pouring out around your opening and soaking his bush — he whines. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re such a little sex fiend now.”

“Oh?” You roll your hips into a more agonizingly slow set of movements. It’s enough for Eddie to hear the summer storm, the culprit of this ruined camp day (fuck, this is a better end result), and the smell of the fragrant scent of those white flowers on the tall trees and their overhanging branches, seeping into the tent’s expanse.

You lean down and he eagerly accepts a kiss from your swollen mouth, cupping your cheek to take another. Your nose nudges his own as you finish your sentence. “Since I’m such a fiend, guess who isn’t getting to cum?”

You really fucking love sex now. Especially with Eddie Munson.

[rielzero]

Is bird!! Just arrived.

.. I forgot what pm Seymour s tumblr account is.

Anyway BIRD!!

[putting-kinger-in-places]

no more "this is just like wheres waldo" on my blog. that fucker waldo is officially BANNED. fuckass waldo always getting in my business. wheres waldo doesnt exist in this realm ok. i ATE waldo and replaced him with kinger. waldo is in my cellar and his ass is not getting out. little red striped fuck

[unicornpopcorn14]

Dazai and his (dis)association with Guns

It's interesting to me how Dazai conically wields no firearms on him, neither in the PM nor in the ADA.

I mean, taking how dangerous both jobs are into consideration, and how he isn't as physically capable as the strongest ability users out there, you'd think he'd at least ensure a safety measure with him at all times.

But every gun he wields in the series is someone else's.

Every. single. one.

Even the handgun he wields in the Azure messanger arc, despite belonging to the agency, he doesn't constantly use:

While in Stormbringer, Dazai uses a tazer gun before meeting Adam and relying on him:

I've had many speculations regarding this pattern (feel free to add onto them), one of them being that Dazai thinks he doesn't even need guns, since strategies are his weapons, his hands alone are his weapons. In a world of crazy abilities, and users completely relying on said abilitis, being a nullifier might be considered the biggest threat, and a pretty sturdy weapon to rely on.

After some thinking, however, I found that while this might be part of the reason, it isn't enough to just disregard firearms as weapons entirely. Dazai's plans/predictions aren't foolproof, and as he'd explained, they are full of uncertanties, contrary to Fyodor's plans.

And Dazai's ability can't be relied on all the time. Having to touch the enemies/maintain proximity in order to activate it is definitely a hindrance. Besides, some enemies can be physically competent without their abilities, some might not even have abilities, but are formidable. Firearms in these situations would be extremely useful, given their range, and a good precaution.

Aside from combat, tw: suicide Let's not forget that a shooting oneself is subjectively the most painless way to die. So if anything, Dazai should be eager to have one on him and even attempt with it. But he doesn't, he never even seems interested in using guns at all in his suicide methods, hence he would have succeeded long ago...

So if it isn't out of unnecessity, then what might be the reason? I mean, having to count on your enemies to have guns in order to use one is rather inconveniet, right? Why can't he just carry the agency's gun or, before that, any of the countless PM's firearms? Well...

Here is what I think: Killing with guns is triggering for Dazai

Let's rewind a little...

15!Dazai is the earliest we see him using a firearm, and one of the few times he does shoot with said firearm, resulting in this fiasco:

He's clearly having a mental breakdown, spiraling, can't stop, and most importantly: can't think straight. This is Dazai's lowest moment in the whole series.

Thing worth mentioning: in the manga/lightnovel, Dazai does stop after shooting the man one time (basically killing him) and pauses, before he continues again and again and agian...

So I believe the triggering factor is either the death/corpse itself, or how the recoil felt.

We can't exactly determine what it might be, since remember, this is before Dazai even joins the Mafia. He's known Mori for mere weeks at this point. Whatever Dazai's going through in this moment has to related to his past prior to the mafia that we have yet to (or might never) see.

You'd get why Dazai, a person whose greatest ability is his mind above all else, would never wish to go through a moment where he can't keep his thoughts in check. Where he'd lose control.

And you know what's crazy? Dazai seems to avoid that outcome since then, as This is the only moment we see him actively kill someone with a gun in the series.

18!Dazai, through his (abusive) teaching moment with Akutagawa, shoots three times in hopes the other finally uses his ability defensively. There is a cause, and a motif, that a gun has to be involved in. And he knows Akutagawa is going to succeed in repelling them, he knows that won't kill him. Which is why wielding a gun is safe along with shooting it.

While in the ADA, in the instances Dazai wields a gun, he doesn't even shoot:

And that checks. Each one of these example were mere empty threats, but now I see that, as much as it's a threat to whoever he's pointing the barrel at, he's also under the mercy of it. Which means that every time he's used a gun since fifteen was a means to scare and not kill, if only to avoid the worst outcome which is losing control.

Dazai's sanity is on the line whenever the trigger is at the tip of his finger...

So why would he carry guns when he never even plans to shoot? When properly putting them to use threatens to send him into a breakdown, to overthrow his entire line of thinking?

One moment out of control might cost him his plans, his objectives, his subordinates, the lives he wishes to protect. And unless there is a motif for the gun (other than of course, killing) using it is a threat looming over him.

[citroncynique]

bad dreams in the night

[ponpuriitx]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.

One shot: Blitzø x hell born! Reader.

Summary: A stand up night, that was all it was meant to be. Or maybe it wasn’t..

Word count: 1,0k

Warnings: no use of y/n, smut suggestions but nothing too crazy, friends with benefits, slight angst but fluff.

Notes: This is a one shot ! ! A short story that just came into my mind out of nowhere, and because let’s be honest lil’ Blitzø needs love for fucks sake. If there’s any grammar mistake please let me know ! !

It was no secret that you wanted Blitzø. Well, at least not for Loona.

It all started when you submitted your application to work for I.M.P, you got a call back and had to meet your boss.

And oh boy, was it just you or was he really hot? Couldn’t get through the whole meeting without looking at him not giving a fuck about what he had to say. The last words that actually passed your dumb founded skull was a “You’re hired!” That snapped you out of your trance.

You nodded thanking him like one thousand times, it was easy to do that because you actually needed the fucking money. when you went out of the office you saw a hell hound that was the receptionist. Before entering the meeting you actually got a chance to talk to her, bonding a little rather quickly because of Verosika and her hot Body guard.

After you went out, she glanced at you over her phone “So? How was it?” She asked, going back to her phone but still hearing you. When you told her you would be working here she just smirked still looking at her phone.

It wasn’t a long time till you got used to the Job, I mean it was pretty much just sit there with Loona and usually anytime costumers arrived you would take them. And when Loona did take them and she loose her temper you would do it for her meanwhile she draws daggers with her eyes to the client. You thought that at this steps she would eventually get fired, it didn’t take you long enough to find out that she was your bosses daughter.

Now, with that in mind it didn’t mind you being in this position.

You were in the backseat of I.M.P’s van because Loona called Blitzø to come and pick her up. When you parked and Loona was convincing Blitz to actually hop on the party you weren’t much sure about this idea. You weren’t a party pooper really, but something was telling you inside that you shouldn’t be here. You were on the van because you just so happened to be on the road when Blitz told you to hop on, you didn’t have actual important things to do so you just went with the flow.

Just like now. Looking in between the yelling crowd how your boss was finishing the beer supply without any care and actually beating Beel, making Loona proud. You eventually lost yourself in the crowd, trying not to bump with anyone because you didn’t want to talk to nobody. This type of environment made you uncomfortable, so you stepped into the van and waited for Blitz and Loona to come.

Fuck you fell asleep..

You cleaned the drool from your mouth, looking around where Loona parked in. It was your bosses apartment, “Hey Loona, care to crash at my place for a while and bring me some of the groceries I left? I’m gonna take care of him don’t worry.” She doubted for a second, but eventually let go.

You placed Blitzø in the couch, as you went in the kitchen and grabbed some water for him. Putting the water down, you turned on the tv. After a while of changing through programs you felt a little tug on your things, your head snapping to the sheets as you saw the imp trying to get through your pants. You couldn’t deny it was so fucking hot, still, you pushed him down a little.

“Hey, HEY boss hold on are you all right?” You asked, as he gave you a smirk and relied his head slightly on your inner thigh “I am.. Fiinee” you didn’t believe that because of the tone on his voice. You were about to protest when you felt a sharp but so, so euphoric pain on your inner thigh making a laud moan like whine slip out of your lips.

You felt how the tips of his fingers played through the hem of your underwear, now this was a whole new level. Of course you weren’t a virgin but this, this was different. His fingers slipping in so secure under your underwear touching your aching core, taking high pitched whimpers out of you..

. . .

The next morning, Blitzø woke up in his bed naked. The morning light hurting his eyes as he hugged his own figure, he repositioned himself rubbing his eyes and letting a deep sigh off. He didn’t remember much of last nigh, he could’ve sworn that Loony was the one who brought him back to his place—..

Then, he saw it. Some of your clothes on the floor, he remembered. The long lasting night, the moans, the sounds, how his room was filled with filthy sounds and laughter. The way he grabbed the bare flesh of your thigh as he thrusted deep and rough inside of you. The way you scratched his back so deliciously because of his thrusts, but it was strange. Why were your clothes here if he woke up alone?

It was just a one night thing, this is how it always went for him. You guys fuck and then leave, it was a routine for more that he hated it. That was just how things go, his thoughts stopped when he heard the door opening. You with one of his shirts on and your underwear, “Already up?” You said, you could’ve sworn that he was going to sleep till more later.

Blitz then traced his eyes through your shoulders, how it was laced with Bites and hickeys. You noticed this and chuckled slightly “don’t worry, I’ll get rid of them eventually. Come on, breakfast is ready.” You said walking off to the kitchen leaving a confused Blitzø behind.

This was supposed to be a one night stand thing, but why did you stayed? Weren’t you going to leave? He wasn’t complaining, I mean free breakfast is a win. But it still made him crack a smile.

So it’s safe to say that it wasn’t weird when that “one night stand” turned into three, and three into seven and slowly they didn’t seem like just “meet up to fuck” anymore.

[nonuggetshere]

CRAWLS OUT OF THE TRENCHES COVERED IN BLOOD

IT'S DONE

Somehow they took longer than PK's reference did. Here's to hoping I don't change their design again so I don't have make a 4th reference sheet for them 🥂

I forgot to add the fact that they start growing leaves and flowers in their fur after they recover and aren't stressed 24/7 onto the ref, AH WELL- I might just make a version for when they are older and not a complete wreck

Some notes;

They now have pernament wings that are usually tucked under an elytra, identical to Pale King's (monarch) wings but black and white instead. My friends also voted the pubic fur out ✌️😔 probably for the better, I couldn't come up with a way to NOT make it look awkward as hell.

Their adolescent stage is around 13-14 years of age and around Pale King's height, outgrowing him ever so slightly.

The hatchling stage is EXTRA potato shaped and EXTRA fluffy now, instead of the fur being mostly on the back of their neck and lower back they have a full mane that runs down their back, much like their dad. The hatchling and child stages also have much dimmer light, it gets brighter with age.

But most important addition; they have ✨️HEELS✨️

Not sure if the white bits behind the ridges on their feet and forearms wi stay but they are here for now, I'll see how I feel about them as I draw them

They mostly take after their father in all but height but they do have some traits from their mother, which will be more obvious once I will make a proper reference for her

[justcallmesakira]

PORT MAFIA RANPO WHO....

Sypnosis: How about an au where ranpo is in the port mafia and has this sugar crush on ADA! Reader?...

PM! Ranpo x GN reader

Warnings: implied stalking, port mafia ranrizz, indirect kiss

A/N: GUYS I SWEAR I DONT SIMP FOR RANPO I SWEAR!!

PM! Ranpo who got this crush on you who works with the ada while passing by a candy shop amd couldnt get his eyes off you since then! What a lovely candy to devour...

PM! Ranpo who intentionally gives Mori the idea of joining with the ada just so he can see you more often. He know what he is doing

PM! Ranpo who realises that you still stay cautious around "The smartest executive in the whole world" even after he sweet talked you with words you would die to hear.

PM! Ranpo who doesnt send his minions to stalk you, he can just do it himself cant he? After all he is the most known and strategic man in the mafia..

PM! Ranpo who just loves barging in the agency when hes sure no ones there to mess around with you and try to rile you up by getting a bit too close.

PM! Ranpo who set out a whole plan late at night by making thugs chase after you just so he can "save you" at the end

PM! Ranpo cornering you while the others fight and putting the lolipop he was sucking on in your mouth and then leaving knowing damn well he got you weak in your knees

PM! Ranpo who knows you also have the yearning to go after him but is too shy to admit so he just keeps makkng you flustered till you give in

A/N: this makes 0 sense but ehh i wa feeling bored

Tags: @biscuits-spooky-corner, @little-miss-chaoss

Divider crds! : @plutism