#The Dead World Librarian

[esa-marie]

I like making spotify playlists so heres a masterlist.

I'm still updating a ton of these and if you have any suggestions for characters/ prompts i would love to hear it

Fandom:

Shirt music with success of upon people || Flesh Cousin || Regretevator

Mostly compiled of songs that are utter nonsense, or fit the idea of a disconnect between your mind and your body.

Toxic construction Yaoi || Mannequin mark and Wallter || Regretevator

Songs that are pining, but also sad. bc divorce.

I just love to dance || Big Mama || ROTTMNT

Big Mama talks about dancing a lot in rottmnt. I threw in lots of girl disco and some more evil-vibed songs, ofc. (I love her sm im a #1 big mama defender)

FUCK YES! || Karlach || BG3

Karlach's story means so much to me. lots of songs to do with fire/ inevitability/ general badassery.

Fate spins along as it should || Withers || BG3

This one is the most WIP bc im sourcing a lot of the songs from old 13th century manuscripts, which is harder than it sounds.

Various White Knight Chronicles Playlists ( Cisna , Ceasar , Eldore , Yulie , Leonard , Kara , Setti/Grazel ). Since the fandom is actually incredibly small I might make a separate post for their playlists.

OC and others under cut!

OC

'What is it?' 'Home.' || Zael Stormveil || BG3 tav

Zael is my first tav when I started playing BG3. Im developing her more as I play, and started a tag for her on this blog

Was I sweet once? || Anatasios || BG3 Durge

Even though I havent finished my Zael run, I started a Durge run. Still more WIP than other playlists, and is about resist!Durge

Comin' atcha live from Avalonia! :3 || Elliot || LBP OC

Elliot, also known as console kitty, is a tv celebrity in avalonia! Ill spare you the rest of their lore for now, but their playlist is full of silly goofy songs, and songs about not feeling good enough, for whatever reason :)

Spidersona [Spider: Null] || Eve || Project Eden

My spidersona universe (Project:Eden) uses a different titling scheme than my other playlists. Anyway, Eve was a computer program who was ejected into reality. She now has to figure out how to be a human, and what being a human really is.

The Lizard || Lilith || Project Eden

Eve's best friend, who knew her when she was just a program on a laboratory computer. She has a corruption arc :3 (dw she gets better. Kinda.) gentle songs, and some not-so gentle songs

Doc Ock || 'Ock || Project Eden

A scientist who was employed at the same facility Eve was created. calculating, colhearted, cynical. at least for now (enemies to lovers??? P). Science songs and love songs, ofc

The Goblin || Goby || Project Eden

His tagline is "Imitations Limitations"-- a fish man cyborg amalgamation that was trying desperately to mimic the structures of pre-awakened Eve. But, that didn't go well, for him or the scientists. Not nonsense, but definitely songs that teeter on insane.

You said you know a guy? || Vance || Rottmnt OC

Vance is a scavenger, they go above the hidden city and 'scavenge' for things to sell below. Energy is his name, an he lives up to it.

You dont know me. || The Ghosts Official Playlist

I have several WIP projects, and Pastries and a Poltergeist is one of them. The ghost inhabits this old, run down, 70s house and is trying to get Maya to move out. but she wont. Melancholy 70s

I need this. || Maya Dufour's Official Playlist

Recent college graduate, she's about to find out why this house was insanely cheap. Stubborn. WIP.

This is a story about beginnings || The Librarian's Official playlist.

Ill spare the story for The Dead World for now, but The librarians playlist is a lot of epic orchestral and some medival songs sprinkled in.

Squash and Stretch || Cross || AVA/AVM OC

Living in-between a sketched figure and a stick figure, Cross is ever stuck in limbo. lots of video game songs/ songs to pick them up.

GameDev!Donnie || TMNT SONA Official Playlist

Gamedev is stuck in the world of video games for now. He doesnt mind a ton, although he misses his brothers sometimes. Filled with upbeat/happy video game songs

Monsters? That's Outrageous! || Gwen || Doors OC

WIP, but songs relating to the timeloop shes stuck in or the game itself.

Got it!! || Tracey || White Knight Chronicles OC

Songs for when your not the main character but still trying to be useful.

Technically I have more OC playlists but I think that's good for now ahjhkdbSAhkadk

Other

GET SHIT DONE (via killer video game soundtracks)

Over 40 hours of video game music (as soon as i finish a game it gets shoved into this playlist. I might reduce it in the future but I like the absurdity of how big it is)

She blinded me... WITH SCIENCE!!! || Silly songs about science

Specifically songs referring to science. This started as a Donatello playlist but then i fully committed to the bit. This is also technically my most popular playlist for some reason lmao.

A New Ghost Town

WIP playlist for a fanfic I may never make (each song is supposed to be representative of a chapter/ the chapter titles) (if you wanna know its dp and Gravity falls crossover)

Again, you'll see more playlists than this on my account (shared) But heres the tip of the iceberg :)

[thewickedbohemian]

Since my one for non-musical Disney movies got so well-received here's one putting the live-action movies together (as I think some may have suffered in their separate polls thanks to what they were against)

The ones for movies based on books will be with the books in a future poll, also feel free to suggest ideas for casting etc. in the comments

[samiholloway]

Currently a rotating constellation of probably four or five old ones I keep coming back to that keep not getting written*, but lately I've come up with a few new ones that I might tackle**??

[turning-pages-seeking-sages]

📖✨ Monthly Reading Wrap-Up

October 2024 Edition

📗 I Have Some Questions for You by Rebecca Makkai Mystery/Thriller | ★★★★☆ (4/5) A true-crime podcaster returns to her alma mater to revisit an old murder case, stirring up buried memories and unexpected revelations. Review: Makkai delivers a gripping and layered narrative that tackles both suspense and self-reflection.

📕 A World of Curiosities by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★☆ (3.75/5) In the heart of Three Pines, a hidden attic leads to secrets buried in Gamache’s past, as a new generation wrestles with unresolved mysteries. Review: Intricate and compelling, but I felt like the characters made bad decisions purely to advance the plot and elevate the stakes.

📙 The Librarian of Burned Books by Brianna Labuskes Historical Fiction | ★★★★½ (4.5/5) A captivating read that will resonate deeply with fans of historical fiction, particularly those who appreciate stories about the power of literature to overcome adversity, the resilience of women in the face of oppression, and the beauty of love and hope in the darkest of times Review: A beautiful, moving tribute to the power of books that (surprisingly!) centers queer characters.

Click 'keep reading' for the full list and StoryGraph links.

📘 At First Spite by Olivia Dade Romantic Comedy | ★★★☆☆ (3/5) After a broken engagement, Athena moves into the tiny Spite House she bought for her ex-fiancé, only to discover that his infuriating older brother, the man who convinced him to leave her, lives next door. Review: This story does a decent job depicting depression, but unbelievable scenes and cringe banter pulled me out of the story several times.

📗 The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison Fantasy | ★★★★☆ (4/5) Thara Celehar, a Witness for the Dead, uses his gift to bring closure to lost souls while facing dark mysteries in the city of Amalo. Review: A quietly powerful story with heart and compassion at its core, full of political intrigue and mystery.

📕 The Grief Stones by Katherine Addison Fantasy | ★★★★☆ (3.75/5) Thara Celehar, a Witness for the Dead, uses his gift to investigate a noblewoman’s murder, uncovering disturbing secrets within a girls' school and confronting painful truths in the shadows of Amalo. Review: While I enjoyed this book, the pacing was off, and some plot lines were rushed.

📙 A Great Reckoning by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★¾ (4.75/5) Gamache takes on the role of commander at the police academy, uncovering corruption and a map that could solve a decades-old mystery. Review: One of my favorites in the series; a beautifully layered narrative with suspense and emotional depth.

📘 Glass Houses by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★☆ (4/5) When a mysterious figure appears in Three Pines, it sets off a chain of events that forces Gamache to confront his past decisions and their deadly repercussions. Review: A thought-provoking mystery with masterful tension and a gripping storyline.

📗 Kingdom of the Blind by Louise Penny Mystery | ★★★★☆ (4/5) Chief Inspector Armand Gamache finds himself named as one of the executors of a stranger’s will, leading to an intricate mystery rooted in secrets and lies. Review: Penny's storytelling shines with rich character depth and an intricately woven mystery.

📕 The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin Fantasy/Sci-Fi | ★★★★☆ (3.75/5) In a vividly imagined New York City, five people embodying the boroughs must come together to defend it from an otherworldly threat. Review: I enjoyed the premise, but sometimes the messages felt hamfisted.

[dandelion-de-deus]

When we die death makes stories of us all. This is our most profound grace and our most terrible tragedy

[sooniebby]

Random idea about Iida Tenya, bottom male reader. Transmasc reader, use of pussy and clit/dick.

Just the idea of Tenya having an oral fixation. It’s very subtle and honestly manageable for the most part. He doesn’t chew on things or wants anything particular in his mouth… but he feels hungry sometimes, it only got worse with age. Like his mouth is missing the taste of something….

It’s not until you start dating him that he gets an idea of what’s been bothering him. While the two of you were a bit shy to really have sex, you both occasionally rutted against each other. It took some time before you finally felt comfortable enough to let Tenya see you naked.

And there it was, between your legs, already slick and dripping onto the bedsheets. Tenya wouldn’t say he cared all that much about sex, at least in comparison to his classmates (Mineta) but he realized what he was missing out on.

The taste of pussy. The first time was awkward, that’s natural, he didn’t even properly suck you, just learn about what made your body tick. But soon, once you were a little more comfortable, he immediately pressed his mouth against your cunt.

He couldn’t exactly remembered what happened that night, only that one second he gave a hesitate lick at your clit—and the next his lower face was dripping wet and you were on the verge of passing out.

After that, you didn’t have to worry about jerking Iida off. Not like you could. Whenever you visited his bedroom, he’d practically tear your pants off before pushing you on the bed, forcing your legs up as he lapped at your cunt. His tongue was weirdly big that whenever his tongue fucked you it felt like a small dildo.

He would suckle your dick and slip in two fingers to stretch you out. And he wouldn’t stop until he got you to cum three times a night, a magic number or something. You were usually brain dead by the second orgasm.

When you’d express concern that you felt like you weren’t pleasuring him, you were the only one cumming! Until he, a bit embarrassed, admitted that he would cum from eating you out.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @tehyunnie @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @rhetorical-conscience @star-3214 @cherry-blossoms-187 @euthymiko @tomoeroi @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @secretivemessenger @bensontrechic @yuzuukix @anchoredphoenix @ning1e @m00n-b4b3 @roi-henri-xxii @iwishtobeacrow

[demonic0angel]

Possessed AU: Jazz Edition (click for clarity)

An AU similar to this one where Jason gets possessed by Jazz. However, instead of him dying and then her taking over his body, a botched ritual that involved some incompetent cult members and the Red Hood had Jazz’s (unwilling) spirit attaching to Jason’s body. He didn’t figure it out at first until he was in some sort of trouble and she helped him out.

Notes:

+ Jazz is not dead. Her body is still left behind where she was taken from and Danny and his friends are frantically searching for her spirit. Danny and their siblings are especially furious.

+ Jazz appears as hands coming out of Jason’s body. Occasionally, he can see her in his reflections or shadows, where she latches onto him.

+ The pictures labeled 1, 2, and 3 are a sequence of events that describes Jazz and Jason's relationship as they are forced to stay together.

1) Jazz tries to be a comfort to Jason but he was super freaked out by her and thought he was going crazy. Eventually, Jason succumbs to her affection while he's heavily injured and lets himself be taken care of by Jazz.

2) Jazz starts being able to come out even when Jason is not in danger of dying. At some point, Jason realizes that she is an actual spirit (and not his imagination) and together, they work together to make their situation a beneficial one.

3) Jazz is eventually able to fully possess Jason's body, usually when he's incapitated/unconscious. However, sometimes he feels bad for her, so he lets her take over (and also so he doesn't have to deal with his life or his problems. Jazz has no issue with resolving his problems for him.)

+ While possessed by Jazz, his eyes turn turquoise and he is generally very pleasant. Jazz also has a habit of taking care of him, which involves better clothes, self-care, and a lot of eating and sleeping. She kinda treats him like a pet or doll (since she's "wearing" him), which is why he looks like a librarian in 3 lmaooo

+ The Batfam doesn't realize what's happening at first until one of them catches Jason while he's possessed by Jazz. Him being gentle and kind (and not knowing who they are) clued them in and they eventually had to kidnap him for answers lmao.

+ Although I say that this AU is similar to the other possessed AU, I think they'd be in different worlds. If I was to make AUs of the other Phantoms possessing the Bats, they'd also be in different universes bc combining them all would need different backstories from the ones I'm thinking of.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

RULE #2 | CS55

summary : "You promised," he choked out. "You promised you wouldn’t break rule two."

warning/s : sickness, vomiting, hurt/no comfort, death

an : yall have been begging for angst so 🤷🏽 here’s pt 1 of my dead wives series

Carlos Sainz loves you. It is inevitable. It is woven into the fabric of who he is. Just as the earth revolves around the sun, just as a fire burns.

Some things in this world are simply destined to be, and his love for you is one of them.

He remembers the first time he saw you like it happened yesterday.

College had been a blur of stress and sleepless nights for him, drowning in a relentless tide of engineering coursework, circuits, and mechanics that left no room for anything else.

Then you walked into his life, unannounced, unassuming, and shattered the monotony with a force he couldn’t comprehend.

You had been a medical student, your schedule just as demanding, yet you carried yourself with a lightness that seemed impossible.

He remembers watching you in the library, bent over your notes, your lips moving slightly as you memorized terms he couldn’t begin to pronounce.

He hadn’t meant to stare. But then you’d looked up, catching his eye, and smiled. It was the kind of smile that stuck with him, that sank its claws into his mind and refused to let go.

The first time you laughed at one of his jokes, something about thermodynamics, of all things, he had stared at you, stunned, like the world had stopped spinning for just a moment.

And when you’d matched his nerdy humor with a quip of your own, so quick and sharp that he was left speechless, he had known.

That night, he went home and called his sister, still dazed, still unable to believe what had happened.

"I've met the love of my life," he’d told her, voice shaking with an excitement that bubbled over uncontrollably.

"You’re being ridiculous," she’d replied, unimpressed, as always. "You don’t even know her."

But he had known.

—

It had started as a joke.

One of those silly, late-night conversations in the library, where exhaustion made everything funnier than it really was.

The campus was dead silent that night, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of pages being turned. It was nearly 2 a.m., the kind of hour where the world felt unreal, where time stretched and blurred, where reality felt softer at the edges.

Carlos had been sitting across from you, his laptop open to a problem set he wasn’t even pretending to understand anymore.

His fingers drummed against the table as he watched you work, hunched over your thick textbook, scribbling furiously.

You looked up, catching his stare. “What?”

Carlos smirked. “Nothing. Just thinking how much easier my life would be if I had your brain.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “And I was just thinking how much better mine would be if I had your charm. You could probably flirt your way into a free degree.”

“Or at least free snacks from the vending machine,” he added, grinning.

You laughed, the sound soft but rich, the kind that still echoed in his mind years later.

Then, suddenly, his expression shifted. Something thoughtful creeping into his gaze. “We should make a pact.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A pact?”

“Yeah.” He leaned forward. “Rules for life. So we don’t screw things up.”

Intrigued, you set your pen down. “Okay. Rule number one?”

“No betraying each other.”

You smiled, nodding. “Agreed. No betrayal.” You tapped a finger against your chin. “What’s rule number two?”

Carlos hesitated, then, with mock seriousness, leaned in like he was about to tell you the secret to the universe. “No one dies.”

You barked out a laugh, the librarian across the room shooting you a glare. “That’s your rule?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “It’s non-negotiable.”

Shaking your head, you held out your hand. “Fine. No betraying each other. No one dies. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, gripping your hand firmly.

At the time, it had been a joke. Just another of a thousand little moments between the two of you.

Carlos had no idea then how much those words would mean to him.

—

The first time you got sick, really sick, Carlos didn’t take it seriously.

It was a cough at first. A rough, hacking thing that made you wince but still had you waving him off with a half-smile.

"Relax, cariño," you’d said, voice scratchy but amused. "It’s just a cold."

Carlos narrowed his eyes at you, unconvinced. “You have a fever.”

"It’s a dramatic fever," you shot back, tugging the blanket up over your shoulders. "I’m merely suffering for the aesthetic."

He snorted, shaking his head. “Dramatic is right.”

He had kissed your forehead that night, tucking you into his side, his lips warm against your too-hot skin. And you had sighed, sinking into him like you always did, like you belonged there.

It had been easy then.

A flu, he’d told himself. Something temporary.

Nothing permanent. Nothing real.

—

But the cough never really went away.

Neither did the fevers, or the way your limbs felt heavier with each passing day.

You stopped stealing fries off his plate. Stopped nudging him awake in the mornings, rolling your eyes at how deeply he slept. Stopped teasing him about the way he could fall asleep anywhere.

On a plane, in a car, once even in the middle of a club when the music was loud enough to shake the walls.

One afternoon, when you had been too tired to get out of bed, he had finally said it out loud.

"Maybe we should see a doctor."

You had smiled at him, but it was too soft, too thin. "It’s nothing, Carlos. I just need rest."

He had believed you.

God help him, he had wanted to believe you.

—

The hospital came later.

By then, it wasn’t something you could wave away with a joke, wasn’t something you could cover up with sheer willpower.

By then, you were struggling to catch your breath after walking across the room.

By then, Carlos had started waking up in the middle of the night to find you curled in on yourself, your whole body trembling, your hands clenched into fists beneath the sheets.

By then, even you had stopped pretending.

"Okay," you had whispered, one night, your fingers gripping his. "Maybe it’s not just a cold."

Carlos had swallowed hard, his throat tight. But he had smiled anyway, because that was what he did. He stayed steady, he stayed strong, even when the ground was crumbling beneath his feet.

"No pasa nada," he had murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "We’ll figure it out."

And for a while, just a little while, you both still believed that was true.

—

The early hospital visits weren’t so bad.

You made them an adventure, the way you did with everything.

"We should start a ranking system," you had said one day, swinging your legs over the side of the exam table. Best hospital coffee. Best waiting room magazines. Best nurses who let me steal extra blankets."

Carlos grinned, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "That depends. Is this going to be a five-star system, or are we working on a ten-point scale?"

"Oh, five stars, obviously," you said, deadly serious. “We have to account for dramatic flair.”

"And yet you still insist you’re not dramatic."

"I contain multitudes, Carlos."

And God, you were still you then.

A little tired, a little pale, but still full of light. Still brimming with something sharp and teasing and warm.

Carlos had let himself believe it would last.

That the doctors would find the problem and fix it. That this was a detour, not a dead end.

That you were too strong for this.

That he would not have to watch you disappear, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the girl who had once laughed in the middle of a silent library, who had once stood beside him and made a promise that neither of you ever really thought would matter.

—

Some nights were better than others.

There were nights when you were yourself again. When you teased him about the dark circles beneath his eyes, your voice carrying that familiar warmth, something alive and teasing and so you that he could almost convince himself this was temporary.

That this, this hospital bed, these wires, these endless nights of waiting, was just a phase, something the two of you would look back on one day and laugh about.

"You look like hell," you’d whisper, your voice hoarse but still edged with amusement.

Carlos would scoff, pressing a damp cloth to your forehead. "And you look stunning, obviously."

You'd grin, even as exhaustion weighed down your eyelids. "I try."

Nights like those, he let himself believe.

But then there were nights like this.

Nights when you couldn't stop shaking from the pain, your body curling in on itself as he held you, whispering reassurances you were too far gone to hear. Nights when you sobbed into his chest, when your breath came in ragged, broken gasps, when you whispered, "I can't do this anymore, Carlos. I can't."

And Carlos, who had spent his entire life fixing things, who had built his world on the certainty that every problem had a solution, could do nothing.

So he held you. Ran his fingers through your hair. Pressed desperate kisses to your temple.

And when sleep finally dragged you under, he would slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before collapsing to the floor.

He would grip the sink so hard his fingers went numb, bow his head until his forehead pressed against the cold tile.

His body would shake with the weight of it, with the sheer unfairness of it all, with the grief that felt too large to be contained within his chest.

Carlos Sainz was not a religious man.

But on nights like these, he prayed.

Begged.

For a miracle. For a cure. For just a little more time.

—

One night, when your breathing was too shallow, too slow, something in him snapped.

The moment he noticed it, the unnatural stillness, the faintest hitch in the beeping of the monitors, he was out of his chair, panic sharp and immediate in his chest.

His hands trembled as he pressed the call button.

"Nurse," he barked, his voice hoarse. "Something's wrong."

The nurses rushed in, their voices a blur, their hands moving quickly as they adjusted your oxygen, checked your vitals. Carlos stood frozen, helpless, as they worked.

And then, as quickly as the panic had come, the moment passed. Your breathing steadied. The machines quieted.

And Carlos, who had spent the last several minutes standing motionless, fists clenched, lungs burning, finally let himself collapse into the chair beside your bed.

His elbows rested on his knees, his head dropping into his hands. He tried to steady his own breathing, tried to remind himself that you were still here.

You were still here

You were still here.

A moment later, he felt the faintest touch on his arm.

Carlos lifted his head so fast it made him dizzy.

Your fingers barely managed to curl around his wrist, your touch so weak he could barely feel it. But your eyes were open, heavy-lidded and exhausted, searching for him.

"Hey," he whispered. His voice felt raw, scraped down to nothing.

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Carlos exhaled shakily, reaching out to press a hand against your cheek. Your skin was too warm, feverish, but you leaned into his touch anyway.

"You scared me," he admitted, his voice thick.

You tried to smile. It didn't reach your eyes.

Carlos swallowed, his throat burning. He forced himself to hold your gaze, even as the words clawed their way out of his chest, raw and desperate and entirely true.

"You promised," he choked out. "You promised you wouldn’t break rule number two."

A flicker of something passed through your expression. Regret, sadness, something heavier than the both of you combined.

"Carlos," you whispered.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No. You don’t get to break this one. You don’t."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He could see it, the truth you were too kind to say out loud. The truth he refused to accept.

Carlos bent down, pressing his forehead to your knuckles. His grip on your hand was too tight, but he couldn't make himself let go.

"Please," he whispered. "Please don’t leave me."

You didn’t answer.

And somehow, that silence was worse than anything else.

—

Days passed. Then weeks.

Carlos barely left your side. He learned the names of every nurse on the floor. Memorized the dosages of your medications. Knew the precise moment when your painkillers would wear off, when you'd need him to press the call button before you were in too much agony to speak.

And still, he held on.

Because Carlos Sainz loves you.

It is inevitable. It is constant. It is everything.

And even as your breaths grew shallower, even as your hands trembled when you reached for him, even as the hope he had clung to for so long withered beneath the weight of reality-

He stayed.

—

One night, when exhaustion was too heavy for you to fight, you whispered, “You should go home, Carlos. You need rest.”

Carlos exhaled sharply. Shook his head. "I am home."

You tried to argue, but he silenced you with a kiss to your temple, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. He could feel your pulse beneath his lips, slow and unsteady.

"I’m not going anywhere."

You sighed, a soft exhale against his shoulder, and for a moment, for a moment, he let himself pretend everything was okay.

—

He lost count of the days.

There was no clear marker for when hope turned into grief. No defining moment where he realized you weren’t going to make it.

It just happened.

Like a tide pulling out to sea.

Like the quiet between heartbeats.

A promise broken, too softly to hear.

And when you were finally gone, when the world felt too quiet, too empty, too wrong, Carlos sat in the chair beside your bed, your hand still in his.

And he whispered, “You broke the rules.”

---

Permanent taglist: @papichulomacy @softhecreator @claimingharrystigertattoo @mel164 @rendezvoushn @trashyy-004 @330bpm-whiplash @lilorose25 @alilcloudy @residentdemonhunter

[musette22]

Speaking of a “dead” fandom. Do you have a list of Stucky blogs to follow? I need to follow more and go through my followers list for fandoms I’m not in anymore but… also maybe that would help some people who are new to the fandom as well? 🎉

Mandy, my love! Great idea, thanks for asking! ❤️ It's been a really long time since I did a blog rec list, because I am genuinely terrified of missing anyone out and potentially making someone feel bad 🙈 That would never be my intention, obviously!

But I swear, from the bottom of my heart: if you're not on this list and you feel like you should have been, it was most likely just one of those brain = sieve things and nothing personal at ALL. Which is also why I want to wholeheartedly encourage anyone who also considers themselves a Stucky-centric blog and would like to be added to this list to let me know/drop a comment in the notes/reblog with a note etc. etc. The more of us the merrier!!

Also, if you're included in this list but you would rather not be, for whatever reason, let me know and I'll remove you! No hard feelings. I also think there are a couple of blogs that are no longer super active / mainly Stucky blogs, but I did check that they all posted at least in the last couple of weeks, so most of them should still be active!

The Tumblr tag limit per post is sadly 50, so not all @'s on the list will be clickable and not everyone will get a notification of this, so I'm going to try to tag the blogs that aren't tagged under the cut in the notes instead, in order to notify them (so those added there by me are the same ones as on the list below)

Stucky blog recs under the cut, in no particular order!

@fandomfluffandfuck

@rillils

@buckvrogers

@sparkagrace

@voylitscope

@gloromeien

@metalbvcky

@dharmasharks

@leihaddock

@amarriageoftrueminds

@lavenderbuckyy

@steviesmarigold

@randomfandompenguin

@writeyourdarlings

@scriggle-scraggle

@wewringmagicfromtheordinary

@beardoesdoodles

@stuckydrewx

@yourbuckies

@smerfols

@incorrectstevebucky

@steveandbvcky

@riricitaa

@bluesimplicity

@dreadlockholiday

@stuckytogether

@hereforhappystucky

@stevebuckythyla

@luna-rainbow

@caps-boo-bear

@howdoyousleep3

@estelior

@stoveandhisbucket

@im-just-a-random-fandom-girl

@godmerlin

@capibuck

@fenrir-flamekeeper

@bucky-boychik-barnes

@ace-bucket

@shkretart

@smlmsworld

@hipsterdiva

@mentalmeles

@airybmore

@stevefightmerogerss

@guiltypleasureisfun

@twomisplacedsouls

@zenaidamacrouras1

@ace-in-reserve

@msilverstar

@gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes

@thevampireazula

@booksandabeer

@xoxobuckybarnes

@bromcommie

@burberrycanary

@partofthefandom

@fsbc-librarian

@fsbc-stucky-library

@cinnamoncascadian

@wintershield-always

@evenwhenihadnothingihad-stucky

@aimmyarrowshigh

@dienaziscum

@lilyinthesnow

@thestuckynation

@kaiya3333

@son-justdont

@stuckytoyoulikeglue

@norelationtoatticus

@transstuckywriter

@steverogersnotebook

@onecontinuoussigh

@fizz-pop-thwip

@whiteglovemanor

@arctic-turtle-cassiopeia

@artwinx

@behindthesehazeleyes27

@haz-n-boo-world

@steebling

@montyc

@forwritingwork

@steevbuckk

@its-tortle

@raven-writes-fanfic

@sarahowritesostucky

@burnin-brighter

@stevebvck

@geekinthefuschiahair

@innerslumber

@postmodernmulticoloredcloak

@sebastian-lips

@not-withoutyou

@circaclementine

@vincentvanh03

@bisxualbucky

@thesocietyporg

@aciremii

@ywecanthavenicethingsanymore

@turtle-steverogers

@steviesunrises

@somanywords

@karrieharrie

@between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place

@supersoldiercore

@livingoutload

@winterbaebucky

@reducedemtasketch

@preyasi

@bittersweet-in-boston

@stucky-just-stucky

@rachelica9

@kiu-k

@stucky-in-love-with-you

@fishyandclintbarton

@hey-rissyroo

@possibleplatypus

@ariane-giudice

@backonefish

@martelldoran

@schoolyardtobattlefield

@kalee60

@chubbiedumpling

@cat-ws

@greyhoundsgirl

@winterofthedarkestlight

@deadto27

@petite-madame

@kijrbds

@deusv-ult

@weeklybuckydoodles

@stjohn27

@glittery-koi

@buckysbud

@hettolandija

@lucidasidera

@barnestags

@waverleyrogers

@whoastitchywoman

@duckinatruck

@murkycrush

@thewintersoldier3

@whendidyou-leaveheaven

@faeriecap

@captain-dorito-is-a-snack

@princeofbadassery

@timetopanic34

@16woodsequ

[zqxouii]

biker!geto x librarian!reader (f!/afab!) | warnings : mdni 18+

biker!geto, who's a damn hottie, what was he doing at a fucking library? shouldn't he be out there messing up with the cops, breaking headlights, or traffic rules instead of rotting here at this dead silent place?

— "evening, missy."

biker!geto, who's eyes have been locked in yours ever since he stepped into the library, walks over from shelf to shelf, what's he upto now? another one of his prank maybe?

— " well, miss bookish, if you’re so smart, how about you explain why I can’t seem to get you out of my head?"

biker!geto, (get a load of this) who placed this bet to make you fall head over heels for him, grabbing every little thing to talk about, only to flirt right after?

— "miss lit, shouldn't you try hanging out with me instead of wasting your time here reading your remeo and juliet the 100th time already?"

biker!geto, who seems to get the idea that you're atleast, are a tiniest bit in love with him as catching you staring at him from so afar, isn't anything else.

— "c'mon, don't be shy miss know-it-all, why not join me at the local bar?"

biker!geto, who's eyes light up after constantly trying to grab your attention is now annoying the fuck outta you, as you had finally accepted his invite. riding his bike felt like flying to you, to be honest, but also free at the same time?

— "yep. that's the kinda girl I like."

biker!geto, who got you all drunken now, begins with his actual plan. he brings you to a private room where he strips every cloth off him in front of you only to add to the fire and get you on the bed already.

— "let the night begin, shouldn't we, miss?"

biker!geto, who's way of fucking hit your sweet spot would make your eyes roll all the way back with every thrust, how he'd suck on your nipple so oddly perfectly, or mark your neck as if he owned you.

— "didn't know that booky ladies could fuck so good."

biker!geto, who made sure that every droplet of your cum on your folds was licked clean, your body was well marked to show the world who you now belong to.

— "everything that I own is yours now, darling."

© zqxouii — the storyline belongs to me and I do not consent anyone to translate, repost or rephrase my writing on any other platform so I expect you to respect my boundaries.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

don’t be alarmed, this is my loudest roar

1465 words // rated g

8x15-16 spec, major character death

Dad had warned him, in the car. He already knew Bobby is dead, that’s why they left Texas so fast instead of waiting for spring break or maybe the end of the school year like they were starting to talk about. Chris was in the room when the phone call had come in and Eddie’s face had gone all- wide. It’s weird to think about. Bobby, Captain Nash. It’s like a principal or a librarian dying. Not so much a person in Chris’ mind but an architectural feature, a fundamental truth of the way the world is. He’ll visit dad at work and Bobby will give him a grilled cheese with grapes on the side and show him the fire trucks again even though he’s seen them a million times already. And now he won’t, because he’s not alive, because principals and librarians are real people who breathe and bleed and can stop doing those things. It’s weird.

So that’s not what Dad warned him about. It’s after their last stop for gas, where Chris tried to stretch out the ache of sitting in a car for so long and Dad ran off out of hearing again, like he did at every other gas stop, phone pressed to his ear. They’re back in the car and on the highway again and Eddie’s knuckles are tight against the steering wheel and he clears his throat.

“Mijo,” he says. “Chris.” He glances over at the passenger seat, then keeps his eyes on the road. “When we get there- when we get home Buck is gonna be there.” Chris knows that, knows Buck moved in. He dreams- daydreams, not quite asleep enough for it to be anything other than wishful thinking, about him and Buck and Dad all in one house forever, and always knowing where both of them are and that they’re safe. He can almost hear snoring down the hall if he closes his eyes hard enough. “And… I just want to tell you, he-” Eddie’s knuckles creak on the wheel. “Him and Bobby were really close, you know? He… Bobby was kind of like his dad. So- so he’s really upset right now, and I just want to tell you that before we get there because- because we’re going to have to be gentle with him, okay?” Chris nods, Eddie nods. “And because I know… it can be kinda scary, when someone you- you care about is hurting.” Chris nods again, like he doesn’t know that, like his stomach hasn’t wobbled anytime Eddie’s voice has in this conversation. “I don’t want you to be scared. We’re going to be okay. Buck will be okay.” Eddie lets go of the steering wheel for a minute, stretches his fingers out, grabs back on again. “We’re gonna take care of him.” That seems obviously true, so Chris doesn’t nod a third time.

So, here they are now, at the house. Still labelled home in Chris’ mind, on one of those little pieces of tape with the raised up letters like Mrs. Hanrahan had all over everything in third grade, like they’d somehow forget what a pencil is and where to put it away. The lawn is mowed and the door is open and it looks so much the same that Chris feels like crying a little but doesn’t. Eddie gets out of the car first, and doesn’t bother with bags or anything because out of the house-

Buck. Chris imagines the shelf he lives on in his mind, stored close to home and Dad. He thinks he’d need more than one little strip of tape for him. Friend and safe and firefighter and family and- he doesn’t know. He thinks he hasn’t learned the words yet to describe the kind of hurting he feels when he thinks about Buck. Not a bad hurting. Kind of like loneliness, like wanting somebody there, but it happens even when Buck is there. Chris doesn’t know. Dad is on the porch now and he’s holding Buck, different than a hug, in some way Chris also doesn’t know how to describe. Sometimes it feels like Chris doesn’t know anything at all. He sits in the car and wishes he could drive so he could get his knuckles all tight on the wheel. He grabs the door handle and thinks it’s not really the same and then he opens the door, gets out of the car.

Buck meets him halfway down the path, spilling out of Dad’s arms as soon as he sees movement, rushing to meet him. Chris barely gets to look at him — red eyes, too much stubble, his hair is so curly now — before he’s being wrapped up in big arms, clutched against a warm body. “Chris,” Buck says- Buck says. His voice, not over a phone. Chris squeezes his eyes shut tight and shakes his arms out of his crutches so he can hug back. “Chris, Chris-” An earthquake? No- no, just Buck. “God- God, kid, I missed you- I missed you so much.” One of Buck’s arm’s remains locked around him and the other roams, hand clutching his shoulder and then cradling his head, smoothing over his back. And he’s- he’s crying. Big ugly crying. Chris can’t see it but he can hear it and feel it, above and around him. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry.” For what? Chris shakes his head. It’s okay. He’s sort of frightened but Eddie had warned him so it’s okay. “Sorry- you’re here, you’re here- oh- oh God-” Chris feels Buck’s face press into the top of his head. He’s still tall enough to do that easily, despite all Dad’s teasing about how big Chris has grown. Dad is here too, Chris vaguely hears him say something close by, but mostly what he hears is Buck sobbing. Chris holds on as tight as he can. He is scared. He’s scared, despite the warning, because- Buck is crying, Buck’s not okay, and there have been so many- all those other times when the world ended Buck was- Chris has seen him cry before but not like this, and it makes him feel sick a little. And- guilty a little, bad a little, because- he knows Mom missed him when she left. He’s pretty sure. He knows Dad missed him when they were apart. He’s pretty sure. He’s very sure, Dad has told him it’s true, and there’s a kind of quiet something-else mixed in with his happiness when they’re together now. Relief? Loneliness for someone next to you? But. Buck shakes and cries and it’s loud and frightening and it’s proof.

“I missed you,” Chris says. He’s not even sure anyone hears him, all muffled into Buck’s sweatshirt. “I missed you, too.”

“Let’s get inside,” Eddie is saying, and his hand is on Chris’ shoulder, and that is so familiar-unchanged makes him want to cry, too. “Alright, it’s okay, lets get inside.”

Buck gasps a few times above him, pulling in air like he’s going to jump in a pool- jump into water, after Chris. Maybe Chris is crying already. It’s hard to tell. And then Buck pulls back just a little, straightens up, and there he is looking down at him. He looks rough and wrecked and so real Chris sort of realizes he’s not dreaming, which he already knew but- understands, now. It’s real, and Bobby is dead, and they’re not in Texas, and he wishes he never left because the house is the same but everything feels different now, and Buck is frowning now, a different kind of frown, careful and worried and his hand is on Chris face, calloused thumb very soft brushing across his cheek. “Oh, Chris, hey. Hey, you’re okay.”

“I love you,” Chris says, and the label on the shelf should really just say Buck, because doesn’t that mean all of the rest of it? What did Buck label Bobby, on his shelves? “I want to go home- I want to come home, I want to come home, I’m sorry, I want to come home.”

“We’re here,” Eddie says, kissing Chris’ head so close to where Buck’s fingers rest. “It’s okay-” his voice cracks but Dad and Buck were always a team and one will pick up a thought where the other dropped it.

“It’s okay, Chris,” Buck says, and his voice is still wet and raspy, but- they’ll all be in one house and maybe Chris isn’t the only one who needs that to be true. Maybe it’s okay to want that to be true. “Let’s get inside. Let’s-” he looks at Eddie, almost a question that seems to be answered before he even asks it. Chris can feel him breathing, his lungs expanding and collapsing and expanding again, and again. Quietly, he says “Let’s go home.”

[thewickedbohemian]

Something of a bonus round to my musical idea poll (as I remembered a few others I had I didn't put on there because there was already too many options)

Some clarifications/notes on each

For those thinking due to not just it being a video game but the kind of game it is that What Remains Of Edith Finch would be unstageable, just look at Fun Home as if WROEF could be a musical I could see it having that sort of structure. Only issue would be how exacting one has to be for casting biracial characters as Lewis, Milton and Edith Jr. are all half-white-half-Indian but otherwise I think this really could pop off (I mean as much as a musical that might share similar target demographics to This Is Us could be said to "pop off"). Y'know, with the right set designer the visual style could be amazing on stage and since my vision for the sound of this show ever since I had the idea that WROEF could work on stage is basically "PNW indie folk" because it's set on Orcas Island, Washington maybe an indie artist from that area could help with the music

I feel like the only reason (unless there's some rights thing I'm not aware of) we haven't had a Dead Poets Society musical is who the hell do you get to fill the shoes of the late great Robin Williams and not just because that's what I'm stuck on too

some of the stuff in the first Librarian movie might seem difficult to technically pull off on stage but I think there's shows that have done similar and while I did find a surprisingly perfect dream casting for movies-era!Flynn (Daniel Radcliffe, close to the right age, right amount of geeky-yet-still-charismatic and wouldn't it seem perfect for him to step back into another fantastical hero's journey 20-ish years after Harry Potter) I haven't really got a lead on who'd work for anyone else

The main issue I see (if this is a thing Disney would do) with bringing Inside Out to the stage is not what you'd think as (while some would still take some creativity) some of the seemingly-unstageable parts could be pulled off with creative use of stuff like projector-screens. No, the issue is I don't think there's ever been an existing musical that would have the physical aspects (as of course they'd have to be able to pull off the part acting/singing/dancing/wise too) of casting rely as much on actors' figures as this would as Sadness would have to be short and chubby, Anger would have to be short and stocky and Fear would have to be tall and skinny and I worry either these kinds of requirements would potentially be accidentally-a-little-noninclusive or at least make casting this show an absolute bitch

I specified movie and/or book for Wonder (which I had to clarify what I meant for because that's a vague title) because idr how they differ plot-wise. But yeah I think this could totally work and hit the same kind of Tonybait vibes as Dear Evan Hansen was attempting but with a much less morally-problematic story (and Daveed Diggs and Mandy Patinkin were both in the movie so they could perhaps reprise their roles in a stage version)

I'm surprised no one's ever seriously thought of a Scott Pilgrim stage musical before given that the seeds of a musical are there in the movie, maybe it's because it'd have to avoid both of the problems that plagued Spiderman: Turn Off The Dark (effect/stunt-induced actor injuries and, in the words of the great Neil Patrick Harris, "death-defying budget overruns") in addition to how specific the ethnicities of some of the characters (and therefore actors) have to be. But figure those out easily and you could get a potential sci-fi cult-classic on the level of Be More Chill (though that's not to say it couldn't be even more successful)

So which of these shows would you most want to see on Broadway if they could be?

[chaaistained]

hi chaai! do you have any ideas on where to shift to?

ideas on where to shift .*+

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we’ll get the obvious out of the way, there are many different locations you can shift to anon !! and i personally don’t know what your interests and hyperfixations are :( but ! i still want to help in any way i can ≈ so here are a list of general ideas and suggestions and maybe some inspo into different realities to which you (any of you!) can shift !! and ofcs you can tweak it all to your liking xx

sink into self indulgence …

—» shifting at its core is self indulgent and the first example i can think of is your favourite childhood books, movies and shows — the kind of self indulgence where you go back to what made your life sparkle as a child, what made you believe in the impossible, what made you wish the impossible was real, whether it’s fairies, dragons, mermaids, or monsters going to high school, you should take a trip down memory lane and figure out what had you rushing to finish your meal to go watch the latest episode, or work hard at your homework so you could buy the next edition of the game. there’s also the media consumed in your teenage years, the kinds of media that helps you feel like you were escaping and yet at the same time like you were understood

examples include : hogwarts , narnia , my little pony , monster high , ever after high , how to train your dragon , percy jackson and the olympians , h2o , pixie hollow , barbie fairytopia/mermaidia , hilda , bridge to terabithia , wizards of waverley place , minecraft , power rangers , tmnt , disney princesses , little women , gilmore girls , studio ghibli , etc.

—» there are also the realities where you play a part in the bigger picture, you are a significant piece in a vast and intricate puzzle, you stand among your peers, your friends, as someone to be recognised, maybe you’re looking for some thrill? some excitement? some sort of battle or mystery or revolution where you can fight for the underdog or reclaim some form of power — be careful if you do choose to explore these places, but i’m sure you’ll handle it just fine

examples include : marvel/mcu/the avengers/spiderverse , dc/justice league/the arrowverse/smallville , the hunger games , the walking dead , arcane , supernatural , teen wolf , the maze runner , the vampire diaries , pretty little liars , gossip girl , mean girls , outer banks , criminal minds , brooklyn nine nine , the rookie , dune , star wars , avatar: the last airbender , james cameron’s avatar , jurassic park/world , pirates of the caribbean , twilight , etc.

—» conversely, your dr doesn’t even need to be fantastical, sometimes, the things that bring us comfort are in fact the most relaxing, they slow our lives down for whatever time we spend engaging in them, they let us unwind and unravel any burden we’ve unknowingly put on ourselves, the dr doesn’t even need to be based on some form of media, it could be your dream life and/or career

examples include : better cr (HIGHLY RECOMMEND) , cafe/barista , librarian , farmer , florist , artist , museum curator , boarding school , summer camp , bookstore owner , writer , painter , photographer , chef , designer , animator , game developer , director , etc.

—» but maybe you would like a career in the spotlight, where you can finally show the world what you’re capable of, the talent and skills that you know are innate to your being and you just need the opportunity to showcase it

examples include : actor , pop star , band member , kpop idol , youtuber , broadway singer , talk show host , dancer , professional athlete , model , travel vlogger , socialite , royalty , etc.

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when all is said and done, shifting is inherently a form of self love, you’re picking yourself and you’re choosing to shift and experience a reality that will fulfil you in some way !! the ideas in this post are not the limit, there is no limit, [cue mean girls’ “the limit does not exist” scene] so let your creativity take control and let yourself indulge in what makes you happy

cuppa queries; order in — ask responses

2025 © chaaistained

[kawoala]

I saw you wanted requests, went "I have so many!!", opened ask box.... brain goes blank. Basic ass rq incoming. College au perhaps? Tsukishima Kei who is nicer to you than most people but that still seems like he barely tolerates you. One day you overhear him (how? Girl idk <3) telling his friend(s) that he does wanna ask you out but he doesn't really know you or wtv and he thinks it's just friendly talk between you. Then you have to figure out what to do with this because omggggggg. I just love accidental confessions, I believe in you

𝐊𝐄𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 cinnamon roll word count ; (919) content warning ; (accidental confessions, study buddies, flustered tsukishima, best friend! yamaguchi)

Tsukishima Kei is an enigma of a man. He walks around the campus, wearing those stupid, muted blue headphones, eyes dead set on his destination. He doesn’t talk to anybody, doesn’t stop for the dozens of people searching for signatures for baby seals, doesn’t even acknowledge that other people also attend this university.

And then he gets to his Art History class and all of that nonchalant aura is washed away by the carefree smile on your face. He even smiles back at you.

“Hi, Tsukki!” You greet through a mouthful of food, moving your things from the seat designated for him. He sits down and you push a pink box towards him, wiggling your brows. “How’s your morning been? I brought an extra cinnamon roll just in case it was bad. But I also brought it ‘cause you’re my favorite person in the world.”

He looks at the box suspiciously, eyes narrowed, then looks up at you. You almost start to sweat under his gaze. Finally, he shakes his head and takes the box. “You forgot to do the homework, huh?”

You jut your bottom lip out, putting your chin in your hand, elbow on the desk. “You didn’t have to say it like that,” you pout. You pause, then let your head drop down to the desk with a groan. “I had a really busy night, I swear. I had work and then my roommate wanted to— okay, that’s not the point.” You look back up at him and give him your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Please give me the homework, Tsukki. I’m dangerously close to failing this class.”

You know and Tsukishima knows that ‘dangerously close to failing’ means that you’ve gotten one grade below a ninety percent and you definitely freaked out over it.

“Mhm, I’m sure.” He rolls his eyes, but pulls his laptop out to pull up the necessary items that you need for the homework. “You know, you could just ask me for help, rather than copying off of me all the time.” He turns the laptop towards you, answers pulled up on the screen.

You perk up at this, homework already long forgotten. Leaning towards him, you smile widely. “Are you serious, Tsukki? You’d be saving my life, probably.”

“Not your life, but your education, for sure.” 

Later that night, as you’re getting ready to meet Tsukishima at the library, you can’t help the buzz of excitement that runs along your skin. You don’t know why, but you’ve always felt a pull towards him. As soon as he sat down next to you on that first day of class, you knew he wasn’t just going to be that blonde kid from your Art History class.

Thankfully, the library isn’t too far from your dorm. It takes less than five minutes to get there. When you walk in, you’re as quiet as possible. You realized a long time ago that college kids and libraries don’t mix, so you try to go easy on the probably overworked librarians.

Today, Sheila is working. She gives you a smile and points to a corner of the library, where you see a blonde head of hair. He’s not facing towards you, so when the bright idea of scaring him pops into your head, you smile wickedly.

As you tiptoe towards him, you can hear him talking. His phone is up to his ear. Who makes a phone call in a dead silent library?

“No shit, Tadashi. Have you seen her ex-boyfriends? They’re, like, pure muscle. And they’re all tall.” He pauses, then scoffs. “Yeah, I know I’m tall. No, that’s not the point. I just—” he cuts himself off with a sigh. “I’m an asshole, right? Don’t answer that. I just mean that I’m not her type.”

You tilt your head curiously. You wonder who he’s talking about— you hope he’s talking about you. A knot of jealousy festers in your stomach.  Your smile falls and you take a step back. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Yeah, she’s on her way right now. No, Tadashi, I’m not going to ask her out. Why? Because I don’t have a humiliation kink, that’s why.”

You blink a couple times. You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up, spilling out of your mouth involuntarily. You smack a hand over your mouth just as Tsukishima whips his head around to look at you.

For a long, drawn out moment, you’re quiet.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Um, long enough?” You provide, shrugging with a smile. “I didn’t know the Tsukishima Kei could have a crush on someone.”

You can see his face get red. “That’s— I just— You’re—”

“Oh my goodness, relax,” you giggle out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I like you too. And, if you were to ask me out, I might just say yes.”

“I hate you.” He turns around and puts his head in his hands, groaning.

You skip around the table and sit across from him. “You like me. You like me so much it makes you dumb. You like me so much that you told your best friend.” You laugh again and lean forward, trying to catch his eyes. “Do you wanna go out with me, Tsukishima?”

His eyes dart to yours, brows furrowing. “You can’t ask me that. I’m supposed to ask you that.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Bread: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @ilariyalavorowrites @spooky-librarian-ghost @wtfc-huh

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Balance - Jack reveals his feelings for you but they come with complications.

Off Limits - An awkward start to the day leads Jack to make a claim on your affections.

Hawaii - Jack discovers who he really is when you book a trip to Hawaii.

Silk (NSFW) - Jack loves the sight of you in silk.

Boston - You reflect on the past after your ex-husband makes an appearance on a trying day.

This God Damn Fucking Day - Jack steps into the fray with things get messy between you and you ex-husband.

Misdemeanour - Jack's forced to step in when you get arrested because of your ex-husband.

Fishtail - Jack helps you decompress in the aftermath of your ex-husband.

Love Language (NSFW) - Jack has his own unique love language.

What Puts You On That Ledge - Jack finds away to pull you off that ledge.

Masochist - You and Jack have an indepth understanding of one another.

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW) - You know exactly how to get Jack off.

Part of the Job - Violence has always been part of the job, but this time it hits a little too close to home for Jack.

Pittfest - Jack's day turns into a nightmare when he recieves a notification from the hospital regarding a mass casuality event.

Snapband - Jack's worst fear comes true during a mass casuality event.

Life Raft - Jack reaches out when he sees that you're struggling.

Baking saved Jack’s life once. He tells you that when you step into the kitchen after a therapy nap to discover him kneading dough on the countertop.

After his brother got better and his niece was returned to his custody he’d felt listless, unneeded. The PTSD he’d convinced himself he didn’t have had hit him like a freight train. Flashbacks, nightmares, irritability, the works. He stopped sleeping, started to disconnect from the world.

“It was my friend Dre that pulled me out of it.” He says as you lean back against the work surface alongside him, watching his motions. “He’s the vet that owns the bakery. He knew when I got quiet that something wasn’t right. He started coming over but I couldn’t really engage, it was like a disconnect between me and the rest of the world. So we started doing this instead.” He says gesturing at the dough in front of him. “There’s something about the methodology of it that just relaxes me. I started to become more present, started talking more and it’s like the floodgates opened…”

He tilts his head to look at you, his whiskey coloured eyes meeting yours.

“For a long time the world didn’t make sense to me but bread, it’s simple. It’s chemistry, physicality and mindfulness all rolled into one.”

“You like bread because you are bread.” You inform him, nudging his hip with yours. “It’s structured, measured and when you get it all hot and bothered it rises.”

“You know this is serious stuff.” He chuckles the left side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

“I know.” You smile, your cheek coming to rest on his shoulder as he continues to beat the dough with the heel of his hands. “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours that’s made you crack out that apron for the first time in five years.”

“I thought I lost you Faye.” He tells you, his kneading becoming more aggressive. “For three hours I was convinced the love of my life was dead and it fucked with me. Sometimes I wake up and I have to check you’re still breathing because this world without you…”

He trails off but you get the picture. He would have stepped right off that roof after his shift with absolutely no hesitation.

“This is my way of working through that, of coming to terms with what happened in a healthy way.”

You duck underneath his arm, placing yourself within the confines of his body, your back against his chest, your hands coming to rest alongside his on top of the dough.

“Will you teach me?” You request. His grizzled cheek comes to rest against yours as his fingers slips into the grooves between your knuckles, forcing your palms into the dough, massaging it.

“Remember that thing I said before about you and bread?” You murmur as his lips brush over your jaw, his hips slotting perfectly against yours. “Well I can feel it rising.”

“I told you it’s chemistry, physicality and mindfulness all rolled into one.” He whispers, grinding against you so you can feel him there, hard, heavy, wanting. “You wanted to know the reason I haven’t had to do this in five years? It’s was you Faye. I don’t need the bread when I have you.”

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[elfrooting]

I’m thinking about Emmrich and his obvious compassion for the dead, and I’m wondering about how the Mourn Watch are trained. We know not all Mortalitasi share his empathy (see the mage in “The Dread Wolf Take You” from Tevinter Nights), so maybe the Mourn Watch undergo something that helps instill this reverence and respect for spirits and the departed.

It got me thinking: what if the Mourn Watch mages work with the dying before they work with the dead?

Perhaps as apprentices they complete a year of service as death doulas, to give them perspective on how death affects not only those dying but also their loved ones. They hold hands at bedsides, comfort parents and children and siblings and spouses, and give potions to help ease their patients across the Veil without pain, if that is their wish.

They then prepare their remains for mummification, treating these mortal shells with the same care they did before their soul departed. They lovingly wash their skin, anoint them with oils and resins, and wrap them in strips of linen with their precious earthly belongings tucked between the layers.

Then, now knowing the departed on a more intimate level than many who knew them in life, they begin to search the Fade for a being who will best embody the things they held important, imparting their legacy to live on through a benevolent spirit who can then experience the waking world through their form.

They don’t bind these spirits. They don’t need to, because they have come to know and understand the departed so thoroughly that they can then seek out one who will come willingly into their body.

Maybe this is why some Nevarran mages callously bind wisps to stir their wine, but Emmrich can see a wailing corpse and recognize the pain of lost love in its cries, or give a curious wandering soul the perfect postmortem position as his librarian.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is RIP to the rest of the Mortalitasi but the Mourn Watch is different.