#does this tag exist yet?

[za-vandal]

Self indulgent, Pre-release Mr Reca thoughts (and hopefully prayers for me, because this man makes me salivate.)

Nsfw don't like don't read

This is filthy as hell.

Pet play, dacryphilia, and probably a few more I hadn't think of yet, this is a wild ride

I wanna make this man whimper so hard you have no fucking idea, this man makes me feral. I want to see him on the floor like a dog for me just augghhhhhhhhhh

Anyways.

Mr Reca with pet play. You saw the trailer, you will see the vision. Crazy director man who probably has a thing for controlling things because of his personality (maybe) or profession? Sign me the fuck up. I want to see this twink with a collar and leash. I want to fuck him hard and make him whimper and call him a pathetic little puppy. I want to make him wear a tail plug.

Or, alternatively, make him hump my shoe while he wears some fluffy dog ears. I see him as a dog boy, I have no idea why, but he gives possessive dog boy vibes. Bear with me here. Make him a custom collar or thigh straps with your name on it. I mean he already has them in his daily outfit, it would just make sense y'know?

Mr Reca with dacryphilia because I like my men crying and in pain. That thing about men whimpering and whining being hot is my whole personality when I'm reading fics, that is my vanilla, let's go. I want to see this pretty man crying while I suck him dry, I want to kiss his tears away while I prevent him from coming over and over. And by gods above I want to see this man full on bawling after all the overstim. Kiss away the tears because I'm soft like that.

Mr Reca but we tie him up with his straps. Why does one man need that many straps anyways? Or hell, his jacket thing works too, that shit def looks hot if he wore it without a shirt underneath like the back is 80% open, it covers nothing but it's giving everything fr. Y'all think we can hang him up with just his straps? Fuck him hard while he's up?

Mr Reca but we def filming, I shit you not that is the thing that started this post. Use his phone, your phone, do it on a private Livestream for yourself, use his freaking cameras, do it on set let's goooooooooo. I wanna watch him write his scripts as we fuck, let him sit on your dick if you can, if not cockwarm him instead. We winning no matter what. Make that man struggle and whimper, we ✨love✨ whimpering men in this house. If he feels generous maybe he'll let us wrap him up with his film tape of him being fucked and takes pictures with it. He probably won't though, but he'll probably keep them~♡ I wanna see him drool on camera so I can zoom in on his face and take pictures of it.

Mr Reca and a breeding kink???? A height difference and size kink??? I can see this going both ways. I feel like it's less breeding kink, and more he likes the feeling of cum. How to explain this? No clue. But I just think he would. Let him suck you off or eat you out, get his face wet~

For the size/height kink I think it goes both ways. I think he doesn't really care if you're smaller than him or bigger than him, he just likes it y'know? Maybe you're smaller than him but you can fuck his brains out. Maybe you're tall enough you can lift him up and fuck him against the wall without his feet touching the floor. ✨Just difference in general✨ baby. Bonus points too if you're big, I feel like he'll enjoy getting squished. Doesn't matter if you're masc or femme leaning and/or presenting, he likes getting squished.

And I hadn't really started on the real size kink idea yet, damn. Okay, size kink when he sees his stomach having a bulge as you fuck him. We love a skinny twink. I think he would see it and his mind would just go blank, like, "what the fuck, you're that big" kinda thing. Strap on or not, I think the surprise factor of seeing it is something he likes.

Mr Reca with mirrors. Listen. Trust me. Mirrors. I just love watching this unhinged man get his mind fogged by pleasure. This is a thing I love. I wanna see his face and watch him cry and watch him struggle. We've seen how deranged this man is in the trailer, now let's fuck him up literally so we can see his face more. Do it against those big, wall length mirrors you see in dancing studios if he's working on a musical or something. Do it in one of his trailers while he's out filming on set, bonus if it's not even room and we just press him against a random ahh mirror in a random trailer for costume and makeup.

I blame the unhinged energy today on my exams.

Hope you enjoyed? Well, technically I wrote this for myself but, sure. Posting this for funsies.

[1001aus]

Phantom is a member of JLA when everyone finds out that the Bats have contingency plans against everyone else.

While everyone else is shouting about trust and betrayal, Danny can't help but be relieved. He's seen his bad future, after all. Dan is reformed now, but that doesn't retroactively save the timeline he wiped out.

Danny only has one issue with the contingencies for him: Batman mistakenly believes that his intangibility works the same as Martian density shifting.

It doesn't. In fact, they're very different powers. Intangibility is more of a phase shift where he turns his physical form into energy.

This means that none of the contingencies in his file will work because they don't accurately account for one of his basic powers.

(The shouting actually gets derailed for a bit when he brings it up. All the scientists are a bit horrified about the implied energy conversions happening whenever he uses this "basic" power. As a halfa with an actual physical form, Danny should be giving off enough energy to blow up the planet whenever he transforms.)

[chill4234]

Things that I know.

1. Yaoi is the opposite of yuri

2. According to tumblr, yuri seems to be just about anything, but I have most commonly seen it take the form of two inanimate objects in close proximity to one another. Eg minecraft furnace and crafting table, trains crashing into each other, etc.

Therefore, we can conclude that Yaoi is two inanimate objects that are very far apart from each other. The sun and the earth are yaoi.

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

"shipping saiki is aphobic because he's aroace!"

stares at you with my demiromantic asexual in a committed relationship eyes then looks at the camera like im in the office

[redhoodie1723]

lando norris number one enemy now

[mossiestpiglet]

God im getting so emotional about how close Kyoya is with his guard team… they are so affectionate towards him and they get him so well and he relies on them and is open around them in a way he fundamentally isn’t around basically any other characters, in some ways not even the host club.

[electroniccollectiondonut]

I have not been in this fandom long enough to reasonably judge others' takes however. "EPIC fans are so silly to characterize odysseus as feeling guilty for his actions don't you know he's a war criminal" is definitely a wild one. like first of all to each their own so settle down and let people enjoy things ok. and secondly making choices with a bad outcome, even knowingly and deliberately, does not exclude the possibility of feeling bad about it later. in fact it makes for a much more in depth character because then you get to explore what he does or doesn't feel guilt over, and why, and if that guilt ever edges into regret or not.

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[nat-without-a-g]

Haha, thinking about why Lark hates Henry again

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) frankly a house md omegaverse would require an entire rewrite rather than just "the episode but with mgv elements" bc i have house and wilson helping each other with their cycles (meaning they're fucking) so their dynamic could go even crazier. they bang, unbonded, as friends, which isn't super crazy uncommon but they also regularly display courtship behaviors that they apparently either ignore or write off as pranks or basic decency -- wilson letting house eat off his plate is a huge one for example

[teaganwithtwoshotsofespresso]

LOOOOOK I finished this and shared some of the frames for it already so :3 take IT

part 17 for this map! ↓

hosted by Jason :3 lotsa other people on here are in it, highly recommend snooping around the channel, looking at other maps, and the few finished ones that've been posted!! :3

[muchmossymess]

Crying on the floor bc there aren't any greed/ling hanahaki disease fics

[mylove-thresher]

I am absolutely tweaking the fuck out focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus cofu fuck focus focus focus focus focus focus oh my god focus focus focus focus what was I gonna say focus focus focus focus

[potatobugz]

i have so so many thoughts about barracuda and my jsab headcanons bouncing around in my brain. please take these silly doodles

[transmimir]

"It's you!"

[oc, he/him]

[mydetheturk]

Had a bad migraine & vertigo today, decided to Project. Have Wolfwood Dealing With Vertigo and being Annoyed about it. (If it goes up on ao3 I'll make a post later💜🦑) (if you see any mistakes no you don't 💜)

~~

Wolfwood wakes with his head full of static and his limbs full of lead. He and Meryl and Vash had drank the night before, celebrating something that Wolfwood can't really remember now. All Wolfwood knows is he desperately needs to piss and he's too goddamn hot under the blanket with Meryl clinging to his back.

He tosses the blanket off, pushes himself upward, swings his legs around –

And finds himself on the floor, too dizzy to stay up.

Wolfwood wheezes at the landing. He's dense, heavy with muscle and Eye augmentations, so the landing is loud, louder than he'd ever admit.

Wolfwood is still staring at the wall in confusion when he hears a noise above him. Turning his head, he sees Meryl peeking over the side of the bed.

"Wolfwood? What happened?" She sounds just this side of freaked out, so Wolfwood tries to answer.

"Dizzy," he grunts.

He doesn't get any further when the door opens up, Vash looking panicked.

"Are both of you okay?" he yelps.

Wolfwood rolls onto his back, and while his vision doesn't swim, he's pretty sure if he tries to sit up again he's not making it. His balance is shot, and he doesn't actually know what's causing it yet. He could be dying? Maybe? He doesn't think so, is pretty sure that if he were dying there'd be a lot more bullets and he'd be vomiting up his own blood, but what does Wolfwood know, anyway?

"Nick's down," Meryl says. She pushes herself up. "Over here."

Vash carefully steps around the bed and kneels beside Wolfwood. "Hey, you okay?" he asks. He doesn't touch but he's hovering, and Wolfwood hates it, hates this weakness.

"Dizzy. Fulla lead," is what Wolfwood answers. "Help me up, gotta piss." He pushes his shoulders down, pressing his chest up into Vash's touch inhumanly hot touch. A touch like that could leave scorch marks if Vash wasn't so gentle with Wolfwood.

Vash curls his hands under Wolfwood's ribcage, scooping him up so Wolfwood is seated. He goes to press his hand to Wolfwood's forehead and hesitates. "Meryl?"

She presses her hand to Wolfwood's forehead instead. "Well he's not warm. You sure you're not hungover?" She's teasing, but she's a little serious as well.

"I think I can hold my liquor a little better than that," Wolfwood says.

Vash rumbles against Wolfwood's side, pressing their cheeks together. Wolfwood relaxes into his touch. It would have been unthinkable even six months ago. "I was going to wake the two of you," he interrupts before they can devolve into bickering. "We can't head out today."

Wolfwood makes a noise and Meryl looks at him with suspicion.

"A sandstorm hit last night," Vash explains. He rolls up to his feet, pulling Wolfwood with him as though Wolfwood weighs nothing. "Spoke to the innkeeper about keeping our room until it passes through." Wolfwood's sense of balance is a little too shot right now to smack Vash for it, but Meryl pokes Vash in the side for him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know. But it's a pretty bad one. Another group checked in just before it hit, apparently. Storm was full of lightning."

Ah.

Wolfwood isn't dying.

Wolfwood is just suffering the other side effects of the Eye's experiments. Too sharp senses were one thing – and now that Vash has pointed it out, Wolfwood can hear the sand rattling against the shutters – and he can usually cope with them using his sunglasses, ear plugs he'd stolen from a former colleague's team, and a steady stream of cigarettes and/or suckers.

The way sandstorms on Noman's Land blow through towns – and during the time of the year they're most common – ruins Wolfwood's balance. He doesn't think the doctors ever got a clear answer for that one, just knows it happened way back at Hopeland too. It irritated Chapel to no end, that his star pupil was so debilitated by the sandstorms. Wolfwood always had to be careful during sandstorm season, and even during the off seasons, pushing himself beyond his limits to keep Chapel's approval.

Wolfwood grunts.

"Ah, yeah. Sorry." Vash shifts Wolfwood so that he can get Wolfwood's arm over his shoulders. "Water closet?"

"'Water closet.' You're so old fashioned," Wolfwood scoffs. 

Meryl titters a little but sits up properly, now fully awake. "What time is it even?" she asks. "It feels early but…" 

It's dark in their hotel room. It's probably the sandstorm, though, and Wolfwood is glad they're in a town.

"Late enough I got most of my morning routine done," Vash says. "You two were exhausted. We can get breakfast in a bit."

He lets Vash help him to the bathroom of their inn room, takes a few minutes to recompose himself. Wolfwood's not eating, not this morning. He should, and he will, but that's a later problem. The lump caught in his throat from the vertigo won't let him, nor does he think he'll be able to keep it down. He might be able to manage some porridge or maybe toast if the inn's tavern has any bread this morning.

Meryl's mostly dressed by the time Wolfwood's recomposed himself, and Vash used the communal showers before coming back into their room, so he's clean & freshly dressed as well.

Wolfwood's the problem today. As much as it chafes, he lets them help him suit up. Usually it's the other way round, stripping one another of their clothes, trying not to tear anything in their haste.

Their hands still linger on Wolfwood's skin, though, Meryl circling her hands around Wolfwood's biceps to buckle his sleeve garters, and Vash feeling him up while tucking in his shirt, chest to back with Wolfwood. 

It has him a little on edge, but his limbs are full of lead and he can't move without swaying. He's glad he doesn't have to hide this weakness from them, that they care for him despite it.

Wolfwood is dreading the stairs to the first floor. He's grateful they're only on the second – this inn has three.

"Ready to brave the rest of the inn?" Vash asks. He and Meryl are on either side of Wolfwood, Vash's arm slung behind his shoulders and Meryl's arm around Wolfwood's hips.

Wolfwood grunts. He's not. He's going to, but he's not.

Meryl headbutts his ribs lightly. "Half an hour? Then we can come back up and cuddle?" she offers.

"I reserve the right to kick one of you in the shin to get me back up here if my head starts acting up," Wolfwood says. He'll kick Vash in the shin. Lightly, cause he doesn't actually want to hurt Vash, nor does Wolfwood think his shoes could actually do the Plant any damage, but he'll do it.

Vash chuckles and nuzzles Wolfwood's jaw as though he knows Wolfwood's plans. Fucker. "Alright. Let's get you downstairs and get some food in you?"

Wolfwood crinkles his nose. "If you do." Vash makes a face, sharp teeth bared for the room to see. "Needle-noggin, I swear to God."

"If you take something for your vertigo," Vash says lightly, his eyes flashing a deeper than usual blue. "We should have something that'll work in the first aid kit, you just need to eat first."

Wolfwood narrows his eyes. He knows what meds Vash is talking about, and hates how much more like lead his body feels when he takes them.

They shouldn't have to run, though. They're going to be downstairs for half an hour and then right back up here. Wolfwood is going to be useless if they had to run anyway, body made of lead and head stuffed full of worms.

He concedes the point. "Fine."

"Wonderful. Let's go before they stop serving breakfast foods." Meryl tugs on Wolfwood's waist, just a bit, unbalancing him slightly. He overcorrects, landing in Vash's arms.

Vash scoops Wolfwood up entirely while Wolfwood tries to get his vision to stop swirling and his stomach to settle. "Looks like I'm carrying you today," Vash teases.

"Fucker," Wolfwood breathes. He clings to Vash and buries his face in Vash's neck, ignoring how Meryl coos at him.

Vash chitters in his throat for a couple of seconds and then moves, and it takes everything in Wolfwood's training to not tense up against Vash and to stay limp to make it easier on him. The stairs are a harrowing nightmare that Wolfwood almost – almost – demands to be put down upon arriving at. But Vash just rearranges Wolfwood and carries him down.

Meryl makes an appreciative noise at the sight.

Wolfwood flips her off.

Vash settles Wolfwood at a table while Meryl hurries to the bar to get them breakfast – thomas eggs, something like the grits Wolfwood ate at Hopeland, and some sort of vegetation that might have actually been grown. He gets down most of the grits Meryl got for him, and all of the vegetation. The eggs he passes on to Vash with a pathetic look. Vash stares unblinking at him for a minute before accepting them. Wolfwood supposed one of them has to eat today, and he can't get much more than what he's managed.

An extra bowl of grits makes its way to their table and Wolfwood eyes them suspiciously.

"I might have mentioned you being ill to the innkeeper's daughter," Meryl admits. "You'll need it later, Nick."

Nick can't say no to that, so he slumps in the chair and Vash pats his back, hand lingering between Wolfwood's shoulder blades.

"Alright," Vash says, "back to the room to cuddle?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Yep."

Vash gets Wolfwood back upstairs while Meryl dips into their collective hotel money stash to pay for breakfast, bringing the extra bowl up with her.

When she makes it back up, Wolfwood is on the bed and Vash is digging through the first aid kit.

Wolfwood's already kicked his shoes off, and she does the same before sitting on the bed beside his hips.

"How's your head?" she asks.

Wolfwood has his arm slung over his face. He wiggles his free hand.

"Almost fell back down the stairs," Vash pipes up. Wolfwood flips him off. "But we got in here no problem. Could you fill a glass while I dig?"

Meryl fills a glass half-full with water from their tiny bathroom sink and sets it on the table beside the bed. She's down for cuddles as soon as Vash can get the meds into Wolfwood.

Vash emerges victorious, holding up a small vial with a label on the side in Wolfwood's handwriting that just says Vertigo.

Wolfwood sighs, and lets Meryl pull him up so he can drink his water and take a couple of pills.

"Hate this," he grumbles. "Hate how heavy this shit makes me feel."

Meryl kisses his forehead. "We've got you," she says. She and Vash lay him down, Meryl tucked in on one side and Vash tucked in on the other.

"Let us take care of you for once," Vash adds. Wolfwood bares his teeth, but melts into the bed once both of them are settled. Vash noses the side of his neck. "Rest, Nico. If something happens, we'll bring you with us."

"Dead weight and all," Meryl says. She fists one hand in Wolfwood's shirt, wrinkling the fabric. Wolfwood grunts, arms a little trapped but he's out fast enough. Meryl slides back into sleep soon after, content that Vash is keeping watch. 

Vash purrs, rhythmic and slow as the sandstorm rages on.