#we can cope with that. we can do this together ' you and i'

[aventurineswife]

Between Logic and Passion

Summary: You navigate the delicate balance between Kaveh's emotional idealism and Ratio's sharp intellect. Though they often clash, you help them realize how their shared passions make them stronger together. As the three of you reflect on your relationship, a quiet harmony settles over your lives, promising a future built on love, creativity, and understanding.

Tags: Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Emotional Bonding, Found Family Dynamics, Mutual Pining to Domestic Fluff, Reader as the Emotional Anchor, Banter and Gentle Humor, Hurt/Comfort (Subtle).

Warnings: Light mentions of financial and emotional stress, Subtle references to self-doubt and overworking, Alcohol briefly alluded to (Kaveh’s coping mechanism, not depicted).

[Req by/inspo]

Kaveh had always been a whirlwind of emotion, while Ratio was a storm of intellect, a calculated force that could dismantle an argument with precision. You, however, had always seen how the two mirrored each other more than they would ever admit. Perhaps that was why you had found yourself at the center of their unusual, sometimes chaotic, yet undeniably tender relationship.

Tonight, you sat in the alcove of Kaveh's latest project—a breathtaking garden terrace filled with fragrant blossoms and intricate stonework. Ratio stood nearby, analyzing the structural integrity of a carved archway. Kaveh, by contrast, lounged on the soft cushions next to you, gesturing animatedly about his vision for the space.

“Can you believe he questioned my choice of materials?” Kaveh huffed, shooting Ratio a pointed look.

Ratio didn’t even glance up. “Marble is inefficient for the load-bearing pillars, given the humidity here. My calculations are sound.”

You smiled at their familiar banter, interrupting before it spiraled into another heated debate. “Both of you bring something unique to the table. Ratio, your precision ensures the structure lasts for centuries. And Kaveh, your artistry ensures people will remember it for just as long.”

Kaveh leaned closer to you, his eyes softening. “You always know how to make everything sound so balanced.” He paused, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face. “But let’s be honest, you’re on my side, right?”

Ratio finally turned his attention from the archway, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Don’t put them in the middle of this.”

You laughed, leaning back against the cushions. “I’m on our side. I’m just saying that both of your strengths work best when you complement each other.”

Kaveh tilted his head, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful. “You know, they’re right. As much as it pains me to admit it, your critiques do push me to do better, Ratio.”

Ratio’s lips curved into a faint smile. “And your emotional investment reminds me why these creations matter in the first place.”

It wasn’t often that the two of them shared such open affection, and it made your chest warm to see them acknowledge their similarities. Kaveh’s idealism and Ratio’s determination were two sides of the same coin—both driven by a deep passion for bettering the world in their own way.

As the night wore on, the three of you found yourselves huddled together, sharing quiet laughter and whispered musings about dreams and ambitions. Kaveh’s head rested on your shoulder, his golden hair soft against your cheek. Ratio sat on your other side, his arm draped over the back of the cushions, fingers brushing yours in a rare display of vulnerability.

You spoke softly, your words cutting through the gentle hum of the night. “The two of you are more alike than you realize. You both care deeply about leaving the world better than you found it—Kaveh with beauty, Ratio with knowledge.”

Kaveh chuckled, his voice low and warm. “And you, dearest, hold us together when we’d otherwise tear ourselves apart.”

Ratio’s hand briefly tightened over yours. “It’s true. Without you, I doubt either of us would have found the balance we needed.”

In that moment, the harmony between the three of you felt unshakable. As Kaveh drifted into a soft slumber against you, Ratio leaned closer, his steady gaze meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For understanding us.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “Always.”

The moonlit terrace seemed to shimmer with the quiet promise of a future where the three of you—so different, yet so deeply connected—would continue to build something extraordinary together.

[riririnnnn]

To know that Sae doesn't think he is having any kind of fight with Rin and he, in fact, watches BLTV too makes me think that this post of mine wasn't that far from the tracks.

Yes, of course, he might not be watching BLTV solely for Rin and the reasons might also be Isagi, Shidou, Kaiser, and maybe even Lorenzo, Charles, Loki, and Noa. However, I just like to believe that he never stopped looking out for his little brother, Rin. And in a very strange way, I think he was looking out for Rin in that Snowy Night too.

First thing first, something was wrong with Sae in that flashback.

As the saying goes, "Eyes are the window to one's soul," he looks so worn out—miserable, in fact. And I highly think that around the time of this flashback, it hadn't been that long since he lost his dream—or maybe got his dreams crushed. And I got two reasons to think this way:

To repeat my words, he looks miserable, which is a given when you lose a dream, compared to his later appearance like in the U-20 match. And judging by the timeline, the flashback and U-20 match have 1 year-ish gap which is an ample amount of time to cope up and get a hold of yourself.

Rin kept close tabs on Sae through news and all. The younger Itoshi would definitely be the one, if not the first, to know that Sae was now aiming to be the best midfielder instead of the best striker. But..

...Rin didn't know shit.

Now, you might be wondering why in the world I'm focusing so much on the timeline, right? Like, Sae got his dreams crushed, then he return to Japan and confronted Rin—what's the big deal about it even if these events happened in a short amount of time?

...

And that's where you'd be wrong if you think this way.

We all keep forgetting that to be the world's greatest striker was Sae's dream first before he decided to share it with Rin. Sae has been playing this sport since he was one year old. Soccer, probably, came into his life before Rin did. Rin gave his teen years to this game, but Sae has nearly given his whole life to this dream.

Now imagine yourself in Sae's position. Imagine devoting your whole childhood and teen years to something only to not be able to achieve it in the end. Won't you be devastated? Won't you be a mess? Won't you need some time to collect yourself together? Now do you understand why the timeline matters so much? And why the timeline is such a big deal? Hm?

Secondly, Sae has never been a visibly sweet person, even to Rin.

Yes, Sae took care of Rin, but did we ever see him go, "Aww! My lil baby bro Rinnie! Cutie patootie! My baby bro <333333" Did we? He had always been rather.. emotion-less and blunt. After the above panel, too, his words were, "You can be the most amazing, after me."

He just has been like that.

Always.

That's why I have always believed that he never changed as a person, even after Spain. He has been like this from the start, which is also why I think that his harsh words in that Snowy Night was just another way of him looking out for Rin because guess who has known soccer longer? Who has gone out of Japan and seen the outside world's soccer with his own eyes?

Yeah.

In a way, Sae's dream had more weight than Rin's. The older Itoshi had soccer in front of his vision, meanwhile the younger one had his Nii-chan in front of his eyes. Despite being so focused in this sport, Sae just couldn't be it, so what makes you think Rin could've made it when his sole focus was his Nii-chan instead? Wouldn't have Rin struggled so much in the outside world with this kind of mentality?

And this is something, I think, Sae knew too—on that Snowy Night, he actually realised what Rin's real mindset was like and immediately knew that it just wasn't going to fly in the world stage. Sae was just saving Rin from the hardships he himself must've went through during his time in Spain—Sae was just looking out for Rin.

"What about those mean things he said to Rin?" you may ask, and that's exactly where the timeline comes into play—Sae was just a mess, and Rin's words were the breaking point for him.

"What words?" you may ask now, and these are the words:

Repeating myself, eyes are the window to one's soul:

Sae never broke his promise—Sae never stopped looking out for Rin.

[silkenwinger]

cherry

mdni. part 2 to this; one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader.

You aren't sure this job is good for you, but you would be miserable doing anything else.

That is the unquestionable truth of the matter. Normal society rejects you, then chews on you and spits you out; and you may have taken a bite as well, bitter as it was. There was an attempt, fresh of finishing high school: it was so corroding to you your only other option was joining the army. When that grew unsustainable, too, KorTac. And you are determined to make it work: the unstable people that work with you mostly irritate you, besides some precious exceptions, but you know how they operate. You know how to cope with them.

But God if they don't make it hard!

“As I said before,” you seethe between your teeth, “Novik was spotted by our squad last week in Pashyk. We have reason to believe he might still be there.”

The lieutenant you’re speaking to just listens with dead eyes. He then blinks, and turns to speak to his squad member again.

“We will go ahead as planned…”

Fuck this shit! Not only you’re forced to work alongside another squad, full of people you don’t know, but you’re also going totally unheard. What even is the point of going after an arms dealer if you’re just going to miss him every time because you’re going to the wrong places?

In the ample debrief space, you turn to protest with your side of the room. Roze doesn’t look thrilled either, having her own recon being dismissed so blatantly. It’s harder to tell what the guys are thinking, with that whole mask business, but Horangi has that battle tension in his shoulder, a sign of unreleased disapproval and anger. König… doesn’t look very different. His posture is straight, he’s not hunching to hear the others better. He could be approving the other plan, for all you know. At the end though, you can’t have too much internal conflict, especially when you know the lieutenant knows the commanding general a good deal. Personal preferences and friendships are even more relevant in a PMC than in the normal army, which is saying something.

“It’s like they thrive on doing the wrong thing,” you vent to them later as you make for the mess, fists closed. The other squad had won the battle of deciding your next step, favoured by the higher ups.

“You tell me,” replies Roze, taking her gloves off as she moves to the food stand. “A full night of work dismissed because of their old info.”

“I say we let them do as they please and just sit on the side. We are still getting paid,” says Horangi as he sheds his mask away. Oh, potato salad… 

“I would rather not catch a stray bullet from them, you know how some of their aims are,” you snicker, looking around to make sure none of them are in hearing range. You grab the cutleries.

“It won’t happen,” states a voice you haven’t heard for some minutes now. König’s. He’s standing next to you, as he does often nowadays.

It’s been some weeks since you’ve slept together. You don’t know exactly how your relationship has changed. All you know is that you’ve found it increasingly hard to insult him often and he clings to you like he’s made of velcro (and you are too). And he stuck to you already before. Despite being tempted, so far you’ve managed to not fall into the trap of giving in to your impulses again– both due to your work demands, but also because you have exerted self restraint. Since you know that König has feelings for you, the poor fool, it’s good that you aren’t leading him on. It’s the kindest thing you’ve ever done for him.

Sitting down to eat, you look at König in front of you as he raises his hood to eat. A scowl tugs at your lips, but you distract yourself with food to not think about him. Great, the potato salad is fridge cold as well. And salt less. Could this day even get worse?

“You look stupid,” you say before you can reign it in, pointing at König and his mask. He gulps audibly. Horangi and Roze don’t even mind your insult, as used as they are to them, and keep having their own conversation.

“There’s no way you aren’t getting it dirty, putting it back on every time you take a bite,” you continue, frustrated. There you are again, taking it on König. He should win an award, or fire you.

“You’re right,” he says, tone cheery, “I used to eat in my room so it was cleaner.” The unspoken is so obvious it hits you in the belly, like a well placed punch that takes your breath away. You’re so uncomfortable with the eye contact he’s holding that you look away first.

Why did this have to happen to you. When taken rationally, and without the fumes of lust, what you and König have going on is neither normal nor healthy. He should have a normal companion that elevates and cherishes him, and you should go to something that starts with t and ends with herapy. But no, you’re not going: you went while you were still in the army and it was completely useless and annoying. Plus it’s not even free in KorTac like it was back then.

There’s no other way than to sit down and hope it passes. There’s many women in KorTac; König is a tall and powerful man with a particular kind of charm. Soon hormones will do their part and lead him to other, more well adjusted shores. Far away from you and your unstable moods.

The rest of the afternoon you mope around trying to do something, anything to distract you from your impending mission. You go to the gym and do more series than usual, until your arms burn; you shoot at the range; you beat some poor recruits in hand to hand training; but still it haunts you. It’s both worrying about what you will encounter and anger at being dismissed, unheard. Exacerbating your anxiety is the feeling someone is watching as you walk about the base. You feel eyes on you as you walk through corridors and as you enter rooms. 

The flesh tires before the mind, and so you retreat to your room hoping to sleep at least some hours. Like the internet recommended, you pick up a book to facilitate sleep. See? You can do mental work on your own, no shrink needed. You’re trying to read the same sentence for a minute when someone knocks at your door. You raise your voice as you ask who’s there.

Dogs come back to the place where they’re fed, and much to your chagrin, some men are all dog. And they will scratch at doors.

“It’s me…” a soft voice speaks from the other side. You recognize it immediately and don’t particularly enjoy it being there, but you’ve been trying to get better. So you tell it to enter.

König enters your room like he’s making his way through a mined zone. Not very dissimilar for him when you’re concerned. Still, he lowers his head as he passes through the door and takes some tentative steps. The sound of his boots walking on your carpet is clunky and uncertain. You slide the covers off and sit straight on your bed.

“Is there a problem?” You ask him, neither cold nor warm. You have a hunch he’s not here for any official reason, but you want to hear it from his mouth.

“No, there is no problem,” he rushes to say. You give him no reaction because you already knew that.

Looking at him, so tall and awkward, standing in your room with his hands in front of himself, moves in you something that would have been disgust a month ago. Now it’s something more akin to pity and wanting to strangle him for his way of being. You sigh, already done with his bumbling ways.

“Sit down, will you?” You tell him, and he immediately sits down at the desk chair. It takes a remarkable amount of control to not tell him good boy at that.

“Was it you creeping on me all day?” You ask him directly, like a band aid taken off by surprise. You know the answer to this already as well.

He fiddles a bit with his fingers and then nods, adding a spoken yes on his own. Your eyebrows lower in anger.

“What makes you think that’s a normal thing to do? Seriously, you disgust me at times.” He jiggles his feet, making the chair creak in strain

“I saw you were upset. But I would be making you even more upset, so I thought I would look at you from afar.” His words tumble out of him like the water of a river in flood, like he cannot control his thoughts transforming into spoken phrases.

“I’m not something for you to gawk at.” His attraction to you confuses and upsets you: you cannot understand what you did for him to like you, and maybe that’s what unsettles you. That there’s a whole world out there that sees you and chooses to perceive you in a way you cannot control. Dislike, scorn, indifference: these are reactions you can understand applied to your person, but that König would instead choose to pick like is unbearable. 

“I just wanted to see you were well,” he confesses, his voice soft. For some reason, he keeps digging his grave even deeper. You feel blood rush to your face.

“You’re unbelievable. You hide yourself all the time and I have to be seen and controlled? You’re the most hypocritical person I know.” His head snaps lower now, and you think to yourself this is it. This is the time you get to break his heart completely, that you make yourself unredeemable in his eyes. No longer a fussy creature he can please by doing what she says, but a fully blooded woman that doesn’t deserve his care. Leave her to her devices, his brain should be telling him. This woman is worthless and a constant headache.

Your blood chills in your veins when his hands raise to go to his nape. The fabric of his hood falls in front, a waterfall that stops to reveal the unknown. You find König’s eyes living on a man’s face. 

He’s scarred, that much is true. His nose might have been broken as well. You’re speechless to the fact that he chose to take off his mask, and instead of saying anything dumb, you decide it’s your turn to gawk. His hair is longer than normal in the military, this much you guessed right, and a pleasing auburn that matches his body hair, for as little as you saw them that other time. He looks nervous, and younger than you know he is. Overall, you like his face. It matches his personality: rough in exterior facade, showing that he’s been through a lot, but soft in behavior and gestures. 

“This way,” he manages to let out, “you see me as well.”

This idiot. He’s making you do it again. You’ve really tried, but it’s like he bewitches you.

You jump out of the bed and cross the room in three wide steps. König doesn’t even know what hits him when you’re already sitting on his lap. It’s quite spacious.

“This doesn’t count as an apology for stalking me,” you tell him, inflexible, your legs straddling his. But then you start holding his face in your hands. He looks like you’ve hung the moon for him, and while the sensation is heady, it’s also uncomfortable. You distract yourself from it by kissing him. You start slow, more like nibbling at his lips, uncharted territory. He tries reciprocating, thankfully not using his tongue yet, just pushing his lips against yours, chaste and innocent. You laugh against his mouth and he starts giggling too, a weirdly intimate touch that you weren’t expecting. You’re no longer laughing at him so much as you’re laughing together.

“Follow my lead,” you tell him simply, and he nods, nose brushing against yours. You begin kissing him again, this time for real, your tongue tracing first his lips and then the inside of his mouth. When it slides against his own, you urge him to reciprocate. He does, albeit shyly, but when you start really going at it he gets the hang of it. Truly, an adapting genius. You run your hands in his hair, soft and smooth, while he keeps his hand diligently on your hips, straying neither up nor down. You guess, for his patience again shown when you mistreat him in public, that he deserves a reward of sorts. When your hands move away he makes a strangled sound, but shuts up real quickly when he sees them grab the hem of your t-shirt to take it off. Already braless for bed, your tits go from being completely unknown to him to being in front of his eyes. The expression on his face, unguarded and unrestrained, is almost laughable again, but you’re feeling neglected and you don’t want to turn this into a full bullying session.

“Touch me. Don’t be shy,” you tell him, index finger in front of his lips, and again he nods, resolute. He cups your breast like it’s the holy grail, and that’s exactly what you were afraid of. That you’re an idol instead of a human being to him. Even if it’s a flattering idea.

“I won’t break, you goof,” you berate him but guide him as well, putting your hand over his, showing him how you like to be touched. The other you grab to put on your lower back. Instructed by you, his touches become more real, more vivid; he runs his hand against your side, your hip, then goes back to grope your chest. The sensation makes you move forward, grinding your body against his, and your wet pussy sends a sting of pleasure up your body from the contact against his crotch. König moves to suck your nipple then, now dedicated to covering your chest with care. His suckles are gentle but intense, a motion that is never too rough nor mild; when he is done with one breast he switches to the other without any input, and you smile, ruffling his hair a bit. He looks up at you then, face adorably red and flushed, and moves back to kiss you on the mouth again. Taken by surprise, you emit an embarrassing sound that wakes you up. You break off the kiss, drizzle of spit briefly linking you two, and rush to get off him.

His expressions are so clear now that he’s masked. And right now he’s looking at you like you just burned his house to the ground, sweaty, flushed and miserable. Unable to stand that look on his face, you clear your throat.

“Get on the bed,” you only say, and cringe a bit at the high pitched tone of your voice. König lights up again at your words, like you’ve built his house again and it’s even bigger and more splendid than it was before. He walks with his legs wide, visibly working around his erection, and the sight almost makes you facepalm. Thankfully, you can busy yourself by taking off your pants, doing it so rushedly your thumb’s nail makes a red scratch on your thigh. Watching you from the bed, König starts taking off his clothes. You didn’t tell him to do that but you will grant him this much after turning away from his kiss. He awaits, loyally, sitting on the opposite edge.

“Well? Lay down,” you tell him from the edge of the bed, bracing yourself for the next act. It’s something that you’ve thought about these past days, but to think it will happen now that he’s maskless prickles on your spine. Once you’re done, you turn to see his feet are right next to you, and he’s not quite laying down but more like sitting up with his legs stretched out. These military beds weren’t built for men like König. 

You crawl over to him; you’re not trying to be particularly seductive, but maybe you’re doing it anyway, because his mouth is slightly open, oafish look on his face and all. So irritating– you can’t wait to make it go away. You reach his midsection on all fours, and your hand locks around his cock like you’ve done it a hundred times. He’s leaking all over, the poor thing. His leg twitches: you observe his expression as you pump him a couple of times and, satisfied by it changing to something less stupid, you straddle him again. You’re unsure you can take him without any preparation, but being on top allows you to change your mind quickly. Guiding his cock inside you, you flinch a little at the start and stop midway through, taking a few breaths. You’re plenty wet, and you’ve taken it before, but it’s still a challenge. Thankfully you’re made of stern stuff.

“I’m sorry…” says König, and you could really slap him for saying something this stupid while you’re trying to put his dick in you.

“Don’t be,” you reassure him anyway, huffing. That’s on you for being greedy. Finally, after a while of praying and relaxing and moving a bit after bit, you can take him to base. You sigh as he fills you whole and more, and he moans a contented noise. One of his hands comes to hold your hips, gently, gallantly, as if to say Do what you must and I’ll be there. Readjusting your legs, you start riding him. This has been your plan all along, but the feel of his long, hard cock inside you is more overwhelming than expected, and maybe you’ve missed him just a touch. Moaning, you grasp at his chest, until one of your hands grabs his neck and you dig your nails into the pale strong meat of it. König shouts, a sudden and sharp noise– you grind against his body to give something to your neglected clit. 

“You– you can, hngh, move too you know…” you tell him, out of breath and aching sweetly as you bounce on his cock. You want him to feel involved as well… not like he’s a toy you use to get off. 

“Alright,” he says, smiling at you like he doesn’t have a worry in the world, and you feel an undercurrent of shame again. His heels point on the mattress then, and he starts matching your thrusts from the bottom, the head of his cock reaching a point so far inside you you’re almost certain has never been reached before. Your moans have become needy cries as you match König’s movements, his grunting almost quiet, concentrated on fucking the way you want. Before you know it, two strong arms have bound you by your torso, and your chest makes contact with König’s. He’s holding you, like you’re making love and not taking out frustrations on each other… You could scream, but the change in position and angle has you curling your toes even more, pleasure mounting inside of you. König is panting in your neck, a desperate noise, and you join your arms to hold him, too, his breath hot against your body. Soon enough of his touch, of this spiked beast being tamed by his kindness, you come, letting out a disjointed mewl. Feeling your pussy constrict him even more, König hurries his last strokes, coming inside you with his head in your chest. His rumbling drawl sends rippling tingles all over your body.

You lay there on top of him for a while. Maybe you’re also a bit scared to look him in the eye after kissing and holding him. You reason this is what he’s wanted all along, and maybe you’ve been wanting something along these lines too. Finally, your knees done for, you slide out of him, leaving a mess on your thighs and his, and try to stand but miserably fail, knees buckling. Humiliated, you angrily jump over to lay down next to him. Only you could ruin your post orgasm bliss… all by yourself. Unexpectedly, König speaks.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, tone dangerously sleepy. Your bed is not equipped for two grown adults of your size sleeping on it; and your odds are not good against König in your sleep. The chances of you falling off are very high. But since you can’t go anywhere for a while, you might as well oblige him.

“Yes,” you tell him, but snuggle to him before he can do it to you. His hands are greedy now, too: he brushes your hair and your neck and your ass, reverent, back to his worshipping mood. He takes his time exploring your body, blue eyes dragging over the details, your scars, your birthmarks. Embarrassed by his lavish exploration, you hide your head in his neck. You want him to lay down more comfortably, but maybe he prefers this to having his feet hang off.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, but I’m on birth control,” you mutter against his muscles. It’s very stupid to tell him this after he already came in you twice, but considering you’ve sprung it on him very suddenly both times, you cannot blame a guy for not asking.

“I know!” He exclaims instead, joyful. “I heard you saying so to Roze three months and five days ago, in the helicopter!” He taps his long fingers against your back, maybe to the beat of a song or a lullaby, and you shudder. Again, his obsession for you is simply inexplicable. The mean streak returns as your lungs fill, like a cat ready to scratch.

“You’re freaking me out,” you grimace and take your face off from his neck, trying to lay down on your back as much as you can in the limited space, back arched. His laugh is light and airy, reverberating through your simple room. It tugs a smile off you too and it makes you feel like everything will be alright, at work… and maybe with König, too.

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

BDSM: A Fanfiction Rec List

This week, we have BDSM! Check under the cut for 10 fics that explore and feature all things kinky and BDSM, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

Attraction is just a form of Gravity by ThreeGremlinsInATrenchcoat (201070, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb had caught Essek's attention immediately. And ever since, this strange little neglected attraction has been bothering him. He initiates a mutually beneficial arrangement upon realizing that Caleb's interests match his own surprisingly well. A purely physical, transactional deal.

Reccer says: This is one of my fav fics, one I’ve read more than once. The development of the relationship and feelings, the character portrayals, and the brilliant weaving of a kink negotiation conversation throughout the chapters is all just so good. The sex is also incredibly hot. I learned some things about myself. I feel like BDSM is well represented in this, including negotiations and the importance of after care and usage of safe words.

Research Method by AnaliseGrey (3819, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

There are many things that Essek loves about Caleb. He’s kind, and he’s gentle, but it’s his patience Essek is currently occupied with. Caleb’s terrible, obnoxious levels of patience.

Reccer says: Another scorching hot fic!

cuz you are bigger than the planet earth, and I am your satellite by allmadeofstardust (6085, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek & Caleb do some research into a type of magic that can unlock all new explorations (in the bedroom) in the library. (Spoilers: it's suspension bondage - dunamancy style)

Reccer says: I wrote this! And honestly it's one of the sexiest smut fics I've written. It has intense body worship, severe power dynamics, a beloved amount of trust, and some fun exploration of dunamancy usage in the bedroom. Plus, it features the wizards being nerds purely for sexual pleasure. What's sexier than wizards?

coping skills by eldritchmochi (251061, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Modern with magic bdsm au.

Reccer says: So much good in this fic! Wonderful and respectful exploration of disability, and many Super hot sex scenes

Artificer Devices from Late-Period Aeor: An Experimental Interpretation from Arcane Reconstruction to Functionality (E. Thelyss, C. Widogast) by renquise (5858, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Essek and Caleb find a fuck machine in Aeor. Caleb recreates it for Essek.

Reccer says: Essek strapped down to a fuck machine? Absolutely love.

i cannot throw "i love you" very far by SaltCore (3427, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb needs a break from his thoughts. Essek provides.

Reccer says: This one is more sentimental & sweet, and the description of what subspace looks like from an outside perspective is great!

i don’t need gravity, I just need growth by mojo_da_jojo (20686, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb stumbles upon a smut novel in Essek's possessions that reveals one of Essek's longtime fantasies. Essek, of course, is mortified. Caleb, however... Caleb has ideas. M

Reccer says: This fic is so incredibly hot! If overstimulation and embarrassed kinky role play sound like a good time, this will be your cup of tea!

the ties that bind you hold my heart by LivThael (4330, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek takes his time with taking a happily-bound Caleb apart at the seams. There's some talk of some fun things they could do together in the future, too.

Reccer says: It's both hot and sweet! Essek is a very capable Dom here AND Caleb gives HIM aftercare too. This is the first part of a series that only gets hotter from here!

Pop Quiz by CatgirlTheCrazy (1250, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

It turns out that words like "tentacle" and "tendril" are not interchangeable synonyms, and neither is an accurate term for what an octopus has. Caleb is not allowed to come until he can show that he thoroughly understands this.

Reccer says: Smoking hot tentacle action but it's also funny and just plain weird in the best, most fun way possible

forever is just the beginning by burningafterdark (burningdarkfire) (3580, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb receives a new book from Essek, with the agreement that Essek can use him however he likes when he’s reading it.

Reccer says: I think the device of the book is very fun, and both of the characters relish the roles they are playing within their game.

This is one of our weekly communally-generated Shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring fanfics featuring Ludinus Da'Leth, Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[rweoutofthewoods]

Hi Mere I don't want to imply anything but I'm worried that your new relationship stopped helping you be creative and put out updates. Is your fiance not letting you write? I'm concerned about you.

Look, i appreciate your concern and I’m sure you have good intentions but let me set you straight.

I met my fiancé through writing. we used to write together every single night. They’ve been nothing but my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, the person I can turn to for honest and kind feedback. When I was writing Youngblood and I wrote a chapter I absolutely HATED it was them who encouraged me to rework it into something I was proud of and who didn’t let me give up and just hate myself for it.

And when I said I wanted to stop writing for a while let me tell you there was a big silence and they gave me a look of horror and asked if I was okay because YEAH, it’s very unlike me.

But first I want to say, that just because you guys have known about my relationship for a little while doesn’t mean that’s as long as it’s existed. I was happily in this relationship when I was pumping out 3 chaps a week, and I’m happily in it now that I’m posting 0.

The honest truth is I’m burnt the fuck out. I don’t want to write because I have zero interest in it right now. It doesn’t make me happy, I’m not motivated or burning to do it like I used to be. I wrote nonstop through my last two years of college, through graduating, through working a terrible food service job post grad, living in constant dread of what came next. I’m just burnt out. I’ve been pumping out jegulus nonstop since 2022, ofc I was going to lose steam and move away from it eventually.

Im just busy and tired! I’m moving in a few months, I have a full time job now, I go to work at 8am and come home at 5 or 6 and I don’t want to write. I want to spend time with my family or my friends or my fiancé. In December I worked for 17 days straight without a day off, I needed a break! And when I want comfort and happiness I don’t have to turn to writing to find it.

I’m mentally at the best I have been in a very long time, and I don’t need to write like someone has a gun to my head to cope anymore. I had a very unhealthy and obsessive relationship with writing. And I always joked when people asked how I wrote so much that it was mental illness. But it wasn’t really a joke, I was unwell and coping with fanfic. So while I’m sure some of you may be sad to see my writing slow, I hope you’re happy for me because it’s a good thing!! I want to heal my relationship with writing and I want it to be something I simply do for fun, not something to fill some hole inside of me.

So while I’m sure you mean well, I just want to remind you guys that you see a very small piece of my life and my relationship. So I’d appreciate not making assumptions 🩷

[aquarines]

i really do hope we get sam reid in the writer's room, because i don't know if i can take any more lestat slander from some of the writers. the whole point of tvl is lestat telling his side of the story to louis. it's a love letter to him, explaining everything he couldn't while they were together. lestat isn't perfect, of course, but he's also generous and giving and awkward with some things. some of the writers have bought into the lestat self-hate, thinking that's who he actually is. hello!!! the man hates himself, thinks he's irredeemably evil, and in so doing, ACTS that way! hello!!! he isn't!!! it's been shown time and again from other characters that he's pretty great, if not a little insufferable at times. he is scared of being unloveable!!! WHEN HE IS SO LOVEABLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, HE IS WORTH THE OCCASIONAL ANNOYING SHIT. you could spit in lestat's face, call his mother a whore, and then STAB him, and if he loves you he'd say "aww, someone's feeling grumpy : )" and then just keep going. THAT'S WHO LESTAT IS. (hi i have a cold and im thinking about him and all the missteps that happened in the show so far regarding his character).

heyo, sorry for the late(ish) response, and i hope you feel better now <333 drink some ginger and lemon tea, it always works for me (also lessen smoking if you do because it worsens the symptoms lol i speak from experience)

i basically agree with everything you wrote, like samuel is a true lestat understander in a way i feel some iwtv writers are simply not

like i wonder how they're going to adapt that part where he claims he seduced magnus and that's why magnus raped him into vampirism, if they take everything he says at face value

and yes his never ending tenacity and hope is one of his main traits, like he's literally "always turning the worst of a situation into something good" character embodied and it's what helps him survive all the shit anne puts him through in every book

like he got turned into a monster non-consensually and said "okay i'll be the best (i.e. the most a monster could be) monster you've ever seen"

also he simply does not give up on people no matter what they do to him!!! which is a coping mechanism but it's his whole thing!!! aaah i hope they translate this well on screen

yes he's a bit insufferable and does dumb shit some times (maybe a few more times) but what book or show character didn't?

anyways i love him your honour and i need tvl to be perfectly adapted or i'll be writing a strongly worded email to rolin jones (jk)

[spacelazarwolf]

Four weeks ago, Bear posted a call for submissions on his blog. In the interests of keeping the call as open as possible, we agreed to include as many trans-identities as we knew, so we used the word "tranny." And that's where the activist shit hit the postmodern fan base. People have been pissed. Here's their argument: FTMs are co-opting a word that belongs to MTFs. The word "tranny" belongs to MTFs, reason those who were hurt by our use of the word, because it was a denigrating term reclaimed by MTFs—ergo, only MTFs could be known as trannies. I spoke with Bear, and we agree that’s wrong on several counts:

Tranny began as a uniting term amongst ourselves. Of course it’s going to be picked up and used as a denigrating term by mean people in the world. But even if we manage to get them to stop saying tranny like a thrown rock, mean people will come up with another word to wound us with. So, let’s get back to using tranny as a uniting term amongst ourselves. That would make Doris Fish very happy.

It's our first own language word for ourselves that has no medical-legacy.

Even if (like gay) hate-filled people try to make tranny into a bad word, our most positive response is to own the word (a word invented by the queerest of the queer of their day). We have the opportunity to re-create tranny as a positive in the world.

Saying that FTMs can’t call themselves trannies eerily echoes the 1980s lesbians who said I couldn’t use the word woman to identify myself, and the 1990s lesbians who said I couldn’t use the word dyke.

At one phase in the evolution of transpeople-as-tribe, it was the male-to-females who were visible and representative of trans to the rest of the world. They were the trannies. Today? Ironically true to the binary we’re in the process of shattering, the pendulum has swung so that it's now female-to-males who are the archetypal trannies of the day. The generation coming up beyond the next generation, i.e. my tribal grandchildren are the young boys who transition to young girls at the age of five or six. They’re the next trannies. None of us can own the word. We can only be grateful that our tribe is so much larger than we had thought it would be. How to come together—now that’s the job of the next generation of gender outlaws.

Labels aren't all that bad when they're used consciously, but a major downside of using labels to describe an identity—even the labels we wear proudly as badges of courage—is that lables set up us-versus-them scenarios. The next generation of gender outlaws is seeking to dismantle us-versus-them. As a people, none of us deserves to hear the words “You’re not welcome here,” or “You’re not good enough,” or “You’re not real.” My Goddess, we just have to stop saying that to each other, all of us whose identity somehow hinges on gender or sexuality. We have to stop beating up on each other. The Sydney drag queens and transsexuals knew that when they came up with the word tranny to encourage mutual respect.

What’s more, the time has come for those who are coping with sex and gender oppression to raise ourselves up to a level of respectability of other marginalized groups—those working for equity along the lines of class, race, age, looks, religion, ability, family status, and citizenship. We’re not taken seriously precisely because our focus is on sex and gender. In the eyes of this culture that makes us morally suspect. What the fuck does our sex or our gender have to do with our morality?! We need to de-Puritanize this fucking culture, that’s what we’ve got to do. It's time to reclaim more than names. It's time to reclaim the moral high ground.

Those are the sort of topics I’d like to see in Gender Outlaws: The Next Generation. The first generation of gender outlaws made themselves known in the world. The job of the next generation of gender outlaws is to weave all of us gender and sex positivists together as a globally recognized tribe. I'd like to be around to see substantial progress made along those lines.

'tranny has never referred to trans men'

'tranny' has never referred to trans men.

Just admit you don't see us as trans at this point.

[rika-mortis]

Headcanon: Deep down they both want to be their fairy godparent/godkid again after losing them, but don't believe they deserve each other and feel like they aren't worthy to be their companion anymore

They both need counseling and therapy as a whole package

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[xxplastic-cubexx]

if i had a nickel every time magneto, charles, and amelia were all featured on a cover that framed them as having a wack love triangle then im sure im missing more than just these two but im still baffled i naturally found two so easily anyway

[kaiser1ns]

TAKIISHI CHIKA IN CHAPTER 153

[stormyoceans]

I LOVE ONE CONSENT KING

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Leonardo: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka.

Dazai: *upends the bottle*

[yuripira4e]

I want to preface this post by saying that I love the cat king as a character, especially one that has such a major impact on Edwin and his relationship with his queerness and learning to be okay with it; HOWEVER, I also believe that everyone that genuinely believes he should be a love interest for Edwin should read this. (Also if you just like the cat king as a character and want to understand his character better and why his and Edwin’s relationship is not something that would be healthy or “real” for either)

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[sammygender]

YALL ARE NOT SERIOUS PEOPLE no way i’m looking at the tumblr tag for spn 7x03 aka the sam centric flashback episode dealing with his childhood trauma and how he feels like he’s a freak and everyone is just posting about DEAN. dean and his stupid fucking pie. dean winchester used to be my guy! genuinely! s2-3 i truly thought i was a deangirl! But you people (plus this show atp lmfao) are making me hate him😭