#also the time period? one of my favorites

[starrystar]

So I teach college in the U.S. (English), but I often get these dual enrollment classes where I'll go to a high school and teach the supposedly high achieving high school students the college-level class, generally English 101, 102, and 103. It's free for the students and lets them get the GE's out of the way and spend less time in higher ed, which ostensibly helps them save money and makes it more likely that they'll finish their degree. It also makes the high school look good. In practice, most of the kids are just massive balls of anxiety constantly living one lost point away from a mental breakdown, but we vibe because I also did dual enrollment and I'm also Mentally Ill in That Way (tm), and they tend to really warm up to me over time. They are generally sweet and some of my favorite students even if they do some really "my brain is not fully developed yet" bullshit sometimes.

The downside is the high school does not have enough room, so I alway teach in some high school teacher's room. My contract says the high school teacher is supposed to vacate because they're not enrolled in my class, but in practice this is their planning period and their room and they have literally nowhere else to go to do very necessary work, so we all just agree not to interfere with each other and go about our day, and usually it's fine save for the odd high school teacher acting like an enrolled student (it is funny that they want to be the specialist and best English 101 student as an adult with at least a Bachelor's competing with children, and sometimes we have to talk privately). I have had new high school teachers literally break down in tears when I ask how they're doing, so I don't want to make their lives worse. There is a reason I dropped out of the credential program and pursued higher ed teaching.

I was honestly a bit startled by the pledge over the loudspeakers at first because I did independent study and it's been a while since I experienced that, and I didn't have fond memories (sometimes I was a Good Little Girl(?) who stood up and put my hand over my heart but didn't say the "under God" part, and sometimes I didn't say anything, and sometimes I wouldn't put my hand over my heart and would get in trouble—I didn't even hate America yet, it just felt culty). So when my kids asked if they had to stand, I said they didn't but they could if they wanted to, and some did and some didn't, and it was fine aside from occasional weird looks from host teachers.

However, I was placed in a room with this one lady who was just militant about the pledge. Just like, intense. She wasn't there the first day when we had the "you don't have to" conversation, so the next day when she saw me and some kids sitting she just went completely off the fucking rails. I'm telling you this middle aged woman was fucking screaming her face off at 14- and 15-year-old kids about how she is a veteran and what disrespectful trash they were, so I put my body between her and my children and explained that legally they didn't have to and this was my classroom, and she very nearly slapped me but settled for calling me a child and ordering us out of her room. So, me and 40 giggling teenagers trooped out and headed over to the college counselor's room.

First they (admin) tried to tell me I did need to force the kids to stand, so I pulled up v. Barnette on my phone. Then they said they couldn't force me, but I wouldn't be asked back to teach, and I said OK but this semester's class was mine and these kids didn't have to stand if they didn't want to (I was mad at this point and getting over my initial shock). The resolution they offered was that they would speak with the unhinged pledge defender about not interfering with my classroom, and for the next few sessions I would teach in her room while she silently glared daggers at me, slammed drawers, slammed her door, had loud phone conversations, and stormed around throwing paper in the back of her room. Then we came back after spring break, and she started demanding that my kids stand up again, and I told her that it was my classroom during my class period and she needed to leave, and she stormed out and I wrote complaints to the school and my college, and then I was put in a different room with a teacher who thought the whole thing was funny.

I was asked back because I'm the best fucking college English teacher that high school has and basically perfect in every other way (my kids earn fantastic grades and do really well in their later classes because I prepare them to succeed; I'm good at looping the counselor in when they need support I can't offer; I write great letters of rec; my kids get into Berkeley and Stanford; I am honestly just really good at teaching), but I still see that lady on campus and she always mean mugs me. I'll get a new crop of kids and they'll go wide eyed and ask if it's true that I went up against Mrs. Flag Defender like their older siblings said.

I have noticed that the whole high school moved the pledge of allegiance to be at the beginning of second period instead of first period, I suspect because college classes are always first period. This may have just been coincidence, but I always work in "a little trivia" about students' rights, including the right to sit for the pledge, as part of a greater "common misconceptions/critical thinking" module. I do sometimes hear that they've gotten in trouble in other classes, and I do warn them that punishment is a possibility, but I hope they're learning something useful from me besides just MLA and grammar.

dear usamerican high schoolers looking for a way to resist fascism: sit through the pledge of allegiance.

no getting up. no looking at the flag.

everyone will be looking at you. you'll be sweating like a fucking hippopotamus. your teacher will sternly tell you to get up. you'll feel stupid and that maybe its not worth it because you're just a kid in a classroom. but I'm here to remind you that there are no real life consequences to detention. there are however real life consequences to resisting a thoughtless performance of nationalism.

[gracie-eilish]

comfy, cozy☁️💤✨🫧

an: surprise story! it’s a surprise because i’m writing this like right before i post it. so with that, it’s a bit rushed but idk i liked the sentiment and vibe so here it is.

surprise story because ive been miserable alllllll dayyyyyy fighting off the great mother nature in my uterus. 🥳🥳🥳. and i’m quite sure billie cuddling me would solve all my problems. anywhosies!! send me requests! i have off this weekend and maybe can get some short stories written while i finish up some longer ones!! love ya💋🩷

summary: you’re spontaneously sleeping over at billie’s for the first time while you’re on your period.

The room was dimly lit, the warm golden glow from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. Billie lay sprawled on the bed, her messy blonde hair fanning out against the pillows, a relaxed smile playing on her lips. She was effortlessly beautiful, and in moments like this, it almost felt unfair how much power she had over your heart.

Tonight, she looked especially at ease, lounging comfortably under the sheets with nothing but her panties and an oversized tee on—her favorite way to sleep. When she turned her head to look over at you, her blue eyes locked onto yours with a sly smile, you knew she was about to say something that would send your heart into overdrive.

“C’mere, baby,” she murmured, patting the empty space next to her. Her voice was soft and inviting, but there was a playful edge to it that made your stomach flip.

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I, uh… I’m good, thanks,” you said, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt.

You’re flustered nature was at a high tonight also being on your period. Forget about the fact that you spontaneously decided to stay over at Billie’s place, you had cramps ravaging your tummy making you want cuddles desperately, but the thought of asking for them or trying to go in for them made you nervous all of a sudden.

Billie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to deflect. “What’s that supposed to mean? Get over here, mama.” She grinned, her tone teasing but warm.

You shuffled over reluctantly, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling your knees up to your chest. Billie sat up slightly, propping herself on one elbow as she watched you with a knowing look.

“You’re not wearing that to bed, are you?” she asked, her gaze flicking to your sweatshirt and leggings you had worn over.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” you countered, already feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Nothing lovey,” she said, shrugging. “It’s just… you’d be so much comfier without all the layers. Promise.” Her hand reached out to brush over your arm, her touch light and soothing.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head. “I—Billie, I can’t—I’m on my period. I need the layers in case I.. you know..”

Billie laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart melt. “In case you bleed through? Okay, then I get you some other clean clothes and I change the sheets. No big deal. ”

You gave her a doe-eyed look, though the blush creeping up your neck probably ruined the effect. “I don’t know…”

Billie was your first girlfriend, and you’d gotten the annoyance from accidental period mishaps from plenty of past parters who didn’t get their periods. None of them being as kind or as gentle as Billie naturally. Of course someone who gets their period would be more understanding, but it still made your heart flutter to hear it from your girl.

“Hey,” she said gently, sitting up fully now. Her hand cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing over the warm skin. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, sweetheart. I just… I love being close to you. It’s the best thing in the world. That’s all I want. Plus I think you’d be more comfy not in your leggings hun…. And if you want… I can reach your tummy better if you’re in a tshirt if you want me to rub it for a bit.”

Her sincerity made your heart ache in the best way, and you found yourself nodding before you could think too hard about it. “Okay,” you whispered.

Billie’s grin was immediate and impossibly soft. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely audible as Billie got up and made her way to her dresser, bringing you some sleep shorts and an oversized tee. Your movements were shy and uncertain, but Billie didn’t rush you. She just watched you with that sweet, patient smile, her eyes never leaving yours as she helped lift your sweatshirt off of you and slip her tshirt on.

Once you’d slipped into her pjs and slid under the covers, you kept your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, feeling impossibly self-conscious. Billie, however, had no such hesitation. She immediately pulled you close, tucking you against her side and wrapping an arm securely around your waist.

“There you go,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “So much better, baby. Don’t you think?”

You nodded, your cheek pressed against her shoulder as her warmth enveloped you. “I guess,” you admitted softly, your face still burning.

Billie chuckled, her fingers reaching under the back of your shirt to trace lazy patterns on your back. “You’re so cute when you’re shy, you know that? My pretty girl.”

“Stop,” you mumbled, burying your face against her neck in an attempt to hide your blush.

“Mm-mm, no way,” she said, her lips brushing against your temple. “You’re too pretty to stop talking about, princess.”

Your stomach fluttered at the nickname, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

She tilted her head to press a kiss to your cheek. “You warm enough, sweet girl? You cozy?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, relaxing a little more into her embrace. “I’m warm.”

“Good,” she said, her hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. “C’mere, baby. Let me hold you right.”

She shifted slightly, pulling you even closer until there was no space between you. Her body was warm and soft against yours, and you couldn’t help but sigh as the tension melted from your body. Billie’s fingers continued their slow, soothing movements on your back, her lips brushing your hairline as she murmured softly.

“You feel so good, angel. So perfect. Just wanna hold you all night,” she whispered, her voice like a warm blanket. “My sweet girl.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you finally let yourself relax completely. Billie shifted you onto your back so she could lay on her side, an arm wrapping around your waist and her other slipping under your shirt to rest on your tummy, softly rubbing circles to keep your cramps at bay.

Billie let out a soft, contented hum, “See? Isn’t this better?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded against her, your cheeks still warm but your heart impossibly full. “Yeah… it is.”

“Thought so,” she said, a smile in her voice. “Now just close those pretty eyes and let me love on you, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, your eyelids growing heavy as her warmth and gentle touch lulled you into the most peaceful sleep you’d ever had.

☁️💤✨🫧

[emsdevs]

saw you wanted luke hughes reqs, so ‼️

him coming back to your apartment after a game and just yapping to you because he needs to be close to feel better about how it went, but will never explicitly tell you that it helps him. you're just doing miscellaneous tasks, and he eventually starts whining about it, wanting to ay down and get head scratches/cuddles from you

(if this makes no sense, pretend i was never here 😭)

a/n: so so so sorry for the wait nonnie! i hope you still like it! i did in fact get carried away and wrote 1.6k words of mostly dialogue. is this a crack fic? possibly idk. anyway this was very much a lot of fun and my beautiful wonderful wife kirby helped inspire me

masterlist

Not-So-Silent Treatment

The Devils had an early game today, and although it was a Saturday, you had to this morning and couldn’t make it. That leads you to where you are now, finally home and in comfy clothes, cleaning as a way to pass the time until Luke gets home. Before you know it, you hear someone turn down the music you previously had blasting, whipping around to see who the intruder was after not hearing the door. When you turn, you’re met with your boyfriend, Luke, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face. He watched as you jumped, slapping your hand over your heart, hoping to somehow calm it down.

“You gotta turn the music down when you’re home alone, babe. What if I was a serial killer?” the smirk he’s still wearing tells you he’s not serious.

“Doesn’t mean you have to give me a heart attack,” you roll your eyes, walking over to give him a quick kiss. “How was the game, Lukey?”

“Oh my god. I have so much to tell you.”

“Yay! I’m gonna finish up the cleaning while you talk, okay?” you give him one last kiss before returning to your task of doing the dishes. In the background, you could hear Luke beginning his story of a crazy penalty that happened halfway through the first period. His favorite thing to do was talk. You weren’t sure why he likes to talk so much or how he always has so much to say, but it’s become sort of comforting to you. Instead of having some random song or podcast playing while you did something, you could have your boyfriend telling you everything about nothing. You suppose it’s so comforting because you enjoy hearing his voice, and it’s a nice reminder of the fact that he’s with you, even if you’re just talking on the phone while he’s on a roadie. Either way, no one will ever hear you complaining about your boyfriend’s talking habits.

Luke, on the other hand, knows exactly why he loves to talk so much. He enjoys talking in general, but when he talks to you, it’s just as comforting for him as it is for you. It’s a way for him to decompress after a long day, lay everything out, and get it off his chest. Then, he never has to think about it again. His favorite part of his day is talking to you, so he’s going to soak it up every chance he gets. Also, Luke is aware that he’s a clingy boyfriend. He’s not scared to admit that. Talking your ear off is just another way for him to feel close to you. It especially helps when he’s gone on roadies and can’t see you face-to-face. 

By the time you finish cleaning your apartment, Luke is on story number five. This one happened an hour or two before the game while the boys were messing around in the hallways, something about Luke almost getting taken out by a soccer ball while he was doing his pre-game run. You’re almost finished folding your last load of laundry when Luke starts whining behind you. 

“Baby, when are you gonna be done? You’ve been cleaning for hours,” he drags out half the words in the sentence.

“Luke, you’ve only been here one hour? Just let me finish this then I’ll come sit with you, okay?”

“Whatever,” there’s no real bite to his tone, and you know he’s just being dramatic. You finish up the last bit of your cleaning about twenty minutes later, not without some more whining on Luke’s end. Soon, you’re lying down on the couch, watching as Luke makes himself comfortable on top of you. He grunts a little bit when you don’t move, and you know that’s his way of asking you to run your fingers through his hair.

He lets out a big sigh before starting again, “So anyway…” You aren’t sure exactly how long you lay there with him, listening to him talk while you played with his hair. Soon, though, the sun has set, and you’re attempting to hold back yawns. “So Curtis decided to- oh? Are you sleepy, baby? We can go to bed.”

“Yeah, let's go to bed, hun,” the two of you make your way to your bedroom, immediately lying down and getting comfortable. Luke talked the whole way there. As you’re getting comfortable, you catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. “Luke, baby, it’s after midnight… can you maybe finish your story in the morning?”

“Yeah… yeah, babe, don’t worry about it. Just don’t be mad when I forget important details,” he mumbles the last sentence before letting go of you and rolling over so that his back is facing you.

“Luke. Don’t pout. I’m just sleepy, okay?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not pouting,” you can feel him rolling his eyes even though you can’t see his face. “I’m just saying. You know I don’t remember stuff well after I’ve slept on it. All those important details will probably be gone from my mind. Oh well.” You sigh, deciding to let him pout in favor of getting some sleep. A few minutes later, he speaks up again, “Ya know, I thought you liked hearing me talk.” After getting no response, he tries again, “Dad always told me I’d never find a wife if I didn’t learn how to shut up sometimes. I guess he was right,” he let out a big sigh in between the two sentences. It goes on for you don’t even know how long after that.

“Jack and Quinn used to never let me talk. I’m starting to think you’re just like them.”

“I thought I was dating my best friend. Turns out you actually hate me.”

“There was a really funny part too. I guess you don’t want me to do my favorite thing. Make you laugh. I love your laugh, but you obviously don’t care.”

“I guess I just love you more than you love me. I would do anything for you, baby, even ruin my sleep schedule. Unlike some people.”

“I would never name names but some people like to tell me they love to hear me talk but they really only mean they like it when it’s convenient for them.”

That’s when the fake waterworks set in. Luke is a horrible fake cryer, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s slapping his hand over his mouth, shaking his shoulders, letting out the most unbelievable “boo hoo” you’ve ever heard. When he sees it’s not working, he changes his tactic again.

“Aren’t you gonna apologize? You made me cry!”

“It’s 2:00 AM, and you made me cry. Are you happy with yourself? This is the kind of relationship you want? The kind of relationship where I have to cry myself to sleep?”

“I bet if we got into an argument right now, you wouldn’t even let me plead my case. Because then I would be talking, and apparently, you don’t like that anymore.”

At this point, you know you’re not sleeping any time soon, so you let yourself answer, “Luke, you’ve been talking for the past six hours.”

He’s quick with his reply, “See! I just can’t do anything right.”

“Ya know, you always call me your baby, but is this what you would do to a baby? Let them cry themselves to sleep?”

“Yeah, Luke, it’s called self-soothing. It’s actually a really common soothing method these days.”

“Torture method, more like. Poor kids. Is this what you’re gonna do to our kids? Tell them to shut up because you aren’t in the mood for them to express their thoughts and feelings?”

“Luke, we’re both freshly twenty-one, and we aren’t having kids any time soon?”

“Oh so now you don’t see a future with me? I guess I should return the ring in my sock drawer then, huh?”

“You have a ring?” you nearly shout, shocked at his revelation.

“Nah, I just wanted you to feel bad.” You quiet down after that, relieved that you won’t have to turn him down because you’re not ready, not that he isn’t the one you want to marry. He very much is, just not right this second. The exhaustion is setting in, so you don’t say much for a while. Apparently, that makes Luke really nervous. “I’m so sorry, baby. You know I was just playing, right? I’ll buy you a ring one day. I’ll do all the research. I’ll even stalk your Pinterest if I have to. I’ll buy you the perfect ring. Then I’ll give you the perfect wedding. Then we can have the perfect kids… Do you hate me now?” You can hear how sad he is, knowing he’s probably tired, and it’s probably heightening his emotions and dramatics.

“I don’t hate you, Lukey. I could never. I’m just sleepy, baby. I need to sleep, and I think you do too. Besides, I don’t wanna get married right now anyway.”

“Oh, so you don’t wanna marry me?” it was his turn to almost shout, his dramatic side getting the better of him in his sleepy state.

Eventually, you manage to wrangle him into laying his head on your chest so you can softly drag your fingers through his curls just the way he likes. Soon, it gets him asleep, just like you knew it would. Finally, you’re able to get some much-needed sleep as well. The next morning you hear it from Luke. He won’t shut up about how he has to finish his story but can’t remember half of it because you made him sleep. He loves to get on your nerves, but you wouldn’t trade a single moment with your favorite drama queen.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @one-sweet-gubler

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[gorbo-longstocking]

Do Not Blame the Sea | Chapter One

Pairing: Emperor Geta/Reader, Emperor Caracalla/Reader

Summary: Everyday, you woke up and performed the steps necessary to complete your routine. It was monotonous, like clockwork, as you traveled down the tracks laid out for you since birth. With a mind uncontested, you found yourself graduating college before you were legally an adult, and at the behest of your controlling parents, you continued on to medical school, then further on into a surgical residency at a nearby hospital. You had always wanted to help people and this was the best way to do it.

So, why, with everything you had ever wanted at your fingertips, were you so unhappy?

Maybe that was why when you awoke in the past, surrounded by farmland instead of your blankets that you decided to ‘just roll with it’ rather than scream. That was your motto now as you were unceremoniously dropped from your assigned path onto untrodden ground with no hope of going back. So, even when you saved the life of a soldier and were carted off into the heart of the corrupt Roman Empire to be the twin emperor’s new physician, you barely batted an eye.

After all, you would do anything to save your patients.

Tags: Time travel, transmasc reader, no use of y/n, eventual polyamory, no incest, period-typical attitudes, Caracalla doesn’t have syphilis but he has PTSD, mentions of slavery, both historical accuracy and historical inaccuracy, obsessive behavior, eventual smut in later parts, medical inaccuracies,

Read on AO3

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Authors Note: Hiiiiiii, I’m back at it again, starting another fic. Those freaky gingers have bewitched me, let me tell you. Anyway, some important things to note about this little fanfiction that I feel the need to clarify before we get into the real meat and potatoes.

First and foremost, Geta and Caracalla won’t show up until chapter two. Maybe even chapter three, it depends on how much more set up I write, so if you want to wait ‘till then to read this, you’re welcome to :3

Two, and very important, unlike my other fics where the reader is trans, but referred to with they/them pronouns or neutral language, this main character will be referred to with he/him pronouns and masculine language in the text because, as a plot point, they are assumed to be a cis man. Along with this, they have three descriptions in the text. They have dyed green hair — original hair color shan’t be mentioned — they have top surgery scars, and they have a vagina. I miiiiight make an accidental reference to heights (ex. ‘ooked up at him/looked down at him) but I will try my hardest to not.

While their real name will never be mentioned in text for self-insertion purposes, Geta and Caracalla come up with the nickname ‘Alga’ for them due to their green hair. It means ‘seaweed’ in Latin. It also means ‘something of little worth.’ :) So, that is how they’ll be referred to. Generally. It’s either that or ‘medicus’ or ‘physician’ or ‘you there.’

Third and finally, I am a huge nerd and fan when it comes to the Roman Empire. As a society, they have a bunch of hangups, taboos, and beliefs, mostly around sex, that I find incredibly funny and will pepper in here and there. I will try to make this fic as historically accurate as I possibly can using all the resources I have at my disposal (google, a few academic texts, and my best friend whose studying classical history) but there’s no guarantee I get all of it right. Half the reason I’m using a modern character as the main POV is so they have an excuse not to know things 😭 Also when it comes to conjugation of Latin words, please, PLEASE give me leeway, I haven’t taken a Latin class since high school.

All that said, I hope whoever reads this fic enjoys it, because that is my main goal. Writing is seriously a passion of mine and my favorite part about it is sharing it with people. That means YOU person reading this, I think you’re awesome.

Okay I’m done talking, on with the show!!

Chapter One ///

This dream sucked — because that was what this was, a very bad dream — and, if you had to guess, it was the worst dream you had ever had in your life. Which was saying something. As a surgical resident who did most of their studying in a hospital, you were chronically sleep deprived and had a lot of stressful material to work with. Whatever aid you used to help you get some semblance of rest had a tendency to give you weird dreams. Very, very weird dreams. You had a few recurring ones, like being chased by a sentient pool noodle — whatever that meant — and several where the ghosts of your patients blamed you for their deaths — far more self explanatory than the pool noodle — but none quite like this one.

Out of everything you had ever experienced in your bleak and desolate mindscape, this dream was long and boring. That was its only crime. Along with being terrifyingly vivid, of course, which you didn’t particularly enjoy thinking about. If you were any less logical, you’d almost be convinced this was reality. That you had woken up in a small farming village, close enough to the capital of one of the most infamous ancient empires that you could see it on the horizon. Sometimes, when the sun set, you would stare at the shadow of Rome dancing upon the skyline. It was beautiful, albeit impossible. Sure, the people who surrounded you only spoke Latin, and they didn’t trust you as far as they could throw you, but it wasn’t as if that mattered. Soon, you would awake in your bed, one day closer to your exam and the beginning of the rest of your life.

Why did the thought only fill you with a sinking sense of dread? Being a doctor was everything you had ever worked for. Helping people, saving people, it was your purpose, the very reason you were born with your exceptional mind. It was your destiny, so why did it feel like you were marching to the gallows?

You shook your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Focus on the present, focus on the dream, it was far easier than the constant ever present march of time. It was why you were so certain that the predicament was a figment of your imagination. Time hated you, constantly pulling on your leash, dragging your forward even as you dug your heels into the muck. It would never, never move backwards. Not for you.

Never for you.

A low groan of despair rumbled in your throat as you tried your best to wash your filthy scrubs in a nearby river. The water wasn’t murky, but it wasn’t clear either. Unsurprising, considering the nearby village used this water for practically everything. They were close enough to the city to have access to aqueducts, carrying waste hopefully further downstream. You were determined not to think about it. Any other denizen of this small settlement would wash their clothes themselves. The village was too small for a fullonica, and you were pretty sure they were mostly meant for the wealthy. That said, you also knew that Romans used urine to wash clothes — thank you to the ancient civilization classes you took for fun — and you’d be damned before you let a random person’s piss touch your scrubs.

Outside of work, at least.

With your pants rolled up to your knees as you waded deeper into the water, you continued to do what you could to clean the few clothes you had on you. Considering you only had a little bottle of soap you stole from a hotel a few months ago, it was easier said than done. You wanted to ration what you had in case this dream went on for much longer. Just because this was a fictional scenario conjured by your stress addled mind didn’t mean you weren't going to go about things logically. You had already been asleep for three days now, who knew how much longer this neverending dream would last? Perhaps forever. The thought of avoiding reality as you waste away in your bed was far more comforting than it should have been.

A loud shout echoed to your right and you fought the urge to shoot a nasty glare at the <i>obviously</i> young soldiers goofing off several yards away. Well, young was a strong word, they were the same age as you. Probably. You couldn’t really tell considering how staunch you were in your decision to not make eye contact. Out of the handful of men playing in the water, they were all naked. It wasn’t that nudity bothered you, you were studying healthcare for Christ’s sake, it was the unfortunate fact that soaking wet, muscular hunks were a particular weakness of yours. You weren’t sure the soldiers would appreciate your ogling, the villagers already avoided you like the plague. Judging by the dirty looks you received from some of the, unfortunately armed and notoriously xenophobic men, they’d heard enough about you to be wary.

You let out another sigh, your scrubbing becoming a tad more vigorous. Soapy bubbles rose to the surface of the water and your face was screwed up in concentration.

This particular Roman century had arrived at the village only a half-day after you did. From what you could pick up from eavesdropping, instead of being sent to North Africa to get a little conquering done, their legion was shipped to Gaul to put an end to some dissent. Once that was over, the officer in charge received orders to head back to Rome so they could be sent to North Africa with the rest of the troops. They had only stopped at the village for a last bit of rest before their next assignment. Or something. You had been noticed, and you had scurried off the second you realized you were caught.

Letting out a small huff, you examined your scrubs and decided that they were as clean as they would get. Once you were back at shore, you wrung out the fabric the best you could before laying them flat on a rock beside the only other outfit you had, aside from the one you were wearing, to dry in the sun. Another bark of laughter drew your eye to the soldiers playing like schoolboys in the river. Weren’t these men hardened warriors of one of the most regimented militaries to exist? Surely, they should be more disciplined. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile that caused your lips to twitch upwards. Even thousands of years in the past, and in your dreams, humans were the same as they had always been.

The sun was warm, hanging overhead like an unripe cherry tomato. You closed your eyes to bask in it a bit more than necessary. Your skin prickled, indicating that there were eyes on you, though you didn’t particularly care. No footsteps approached you and the sound of laughter didn’t stop, so you figured you were safe enough to show your belly. You didn’t realize you had laid down until you felt grass tickle the back of your neck. Perhaps a little nap wouldn’t hurt. A dream within a dream would be rather funny, you thought as you fell into a light doze, lulled by the sound of soldiers playing.

You didn’t know how long you slept for. It was the sound of panic that woke you, sending you upright so fast, your head spun. The first thing you noticed was the merriment had stopped and had given way to an oppressive sense of desperation. You looked in the direction you had been avoiding all day to see a gaggle of soldiers, some clothed, some naked, dragging an unconscious body onto shore. One man was running with his tunic halfway over his head in the direction of the village, yelling for the centurion in charge. You were moving before you could stop yourself.

“Make way! Make way!” Your Latin was shaky, but not the worst in the world. While you were sure your accent was strange, you knew you were at least understandable as some of the men turned to block you from getting any closer. They didn’t look particularly pleased at your arrival, eyeing both your hair and your odd attire with an air of skepticism. You didn’t have time for this. “I am a doctor. A physician. I can help him, we must act fast.”

One of the soldiers raised a singular thick eyebrow. “A physician, you say? You look like no medicus I have ever seen.”

“Does that really matter?!” You shouted, your voice a harsh bark. The longer this went on, the less of a chance you had to save this man. While you were nervous to plow through the wall of stout muscle that blocked you from your prospective patient, you realized you might have to.

The soldier looked like he wanted to say something more, when an authoritative voice broke through the ranks. “Let the man through! We have lost too many as is without losing another to a few hours of games.”

Every head snapped in the direction of whoever spoke. All except yours. The second you saw a gap in the crowd, you slid through and fell to your knees beside the drowned man, the one you determined to save.

First thing you did was check for responsiveness. It was out of habit mostly. A tap on the shoulder, a shout, another tap. He didn’t respond, that was unsurprising.

When you checked for a pulse, you found none, so you began chest compressions. Placing your hands together on his chest, arms straight, you began to push. The rhythm came to you naturally — you had made sure to pay attention in class, and this wasn’t the first time you had done this. Despite the fact that you knew no support was coming, that if you couldn’t get this man back by yourself, he would die, your head remained clear.

Do not lose sight of your goal, do not lose hope, go until you can’t anymore.

After thirty compressions, you took a deep breath, pinched his nose shut, and tilted his head back, placing your mouth over his. You heard a few gasps, and even a cry of disgust as you pulled back to push another breath into his lungs. Determined to pay the growing crowd no mind, you placed your hands on his chest and began to pump his heart again.

This went on for… like with your nap, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were drenched in sweat, your arms were sore, and your breath coming out in harsh pants. Thirty more compressions, you inhaled a ragged breath and pushed oxygen into his lungs once more. If this didn’t work, you’d have to call it.

There was a hand on your chest, shoving you away, a watery cough filling your mouth with spittle before the drowned man flailed back to life. You didn’t take offense to the harsh treatment. He had woken up to a kiss. That would startle anyone. You rolled him over on his side and rubbed his back as he hacked up a lungful of murky water and whatever he had eaten for breakfast.

“You’re back,” You muttered softly, as comforting as you could. “Breathe. Slow and steady. It feels good to be back, doesn’t it?”

The man met your eyes, his own a startling shade of honey, a confused, but grateful, smile on his lips. “I thought I was gone.”

“Yeah, we all thought that!” A soldier with a shaved head nudged him roughly with his toe. “Medicus here worked a miracle with his lips.”

A hand reached down to clasp your shoulder, shaking you firmly, if not playfully. You looked up to see a man with floppy blond curls grinning down at the man you just saved, his lips pursed. “The kiss of life!”

You let a small, uncomfortable laugh titter from your mouth. Being surrounded by so many people was awkward, and their banter was even more so. You felt entirely out of place. Rather than focus on that, you fixed your attention back on the man you saved.

“What’s your name?”

“Sextus Aelius,” He answered, voice hoarse.

With a small smile, you gestured to another soldier to hand you a nearby tunic. Sextus — you wouldn’t laugh about his name, you wouldn’t — had begun to shiver, even in the hot sun, and you wanted to keep him warm. Not to mention he was still naked. You tried not to study him too much, focusing on the sharpness of his jaw and the gentle slope of his nose rather than his nudity.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sextus, I am—” You were cut off by a cacophony of noise, a few whistles interspersed within. A bit of heat rose to your face when you saw Sextus’ bewildered expression. “I fear I have made a blunder.”

To your relief, he merely laughed. “Aelius. Call me Aelius.”

“Right. I apologize, Aelius. How do you feel?”

Once you had given him the tunic, he slipped it on over his head, covering his modesty — not that anyone but you seemed to care all that much about it. When he stood, two men came to his side to steady him. Despite this, he still offered you his hand. It would be rude to deny him, though you didn’t feel comfortable accepting help from a man who had been, by many’s standards, dead a few minutes before. You gave him a small smile and pushed yourself to stand on your own.

“I could be better.” His grin was lopsided, the boyish kind that showed off his teeth. It was endearing enough for you to be proud of saving a good man, rather than a mere man. When he spoke next, there was no small amount of awe in his voice. “You saved my life, I am not sure if that is something I can repay.”

A snort pulled from your throat as you waved him off. “No repayment necessary, I only did what needed to be done.”

Aelius looked about to argue when he paled, his gaze flickering behind you. There was a creeping sensation of unease crawling up your spine, similar to when you had earned your parents displeasure. Standing behind you was a presence, one with enough authority to cause the men around you to stand at attention.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem directed at you. For now.

“What is the meaning of this, boy? I allow a bit of slacking off and you go and die on me?” It was the voice from before, the one who commanded his men to let you through. Taking a guess, you’d say this man was the centurion leading this particular century back to Rome. You didn’t dare look behind you, you didn’t dare move. Anything to keep his frustration off of you. It didn’t last long. A large hand clasped you on the shoulder, grip firm, but not harsh. “And to be saved by a foreigner! You should be on your knees thanking him for whatever trick on the gods he played at your behest.”

“That is unnecessary,” You tried to argue, only for the centurion to give you another shake.

“A humble medicus at that! Lucky boy! Very, very lucky!” He let go of you and gestured for Aelius to be taken elsewhere. “To the tents with you while I think of a suitable punishment. No man has died and lived to tell the tale on my watch, so I must be creative.”

Aelius, at least, looked ashamed, though the man with the floppy blond hair leaned down to whisper in his ear, a smirk dancing on his lips. Whatever was said earned him an elbow to the ribs. Men never change.

Before they could get too far, you found your voice. “Monitor him through the night! Fetch me if he stops breathing again!”

It was only once you heard the affirmative did you relax. Which lasted a moment before the centurion turned you around so you were facing him. His gaze was hard and his arms were crossed over his chest. Unlike the men before, the centurion was wearing his full armor, save for his helmet, another thing you were thankful for. You were not easily intimidated, but this man? He could crack you like a peanut.

After a moment of sizing you up, his eyes trailing from your clothes, so different from his own, with trousers instead of a tunic and a graphic t-shirt in an alphabet he knew, but words he couldn’t understand, to your green dyed hair. He didn’t seem impressed. In fact, he seemed suspicious.

“Lucius Marianus.” Unfurling one of his hands, he held it for you to shake.

With an awkward smile, you took his hand and introduced yourself. His grip grew a bit tighter at the sound of your obviously foreign name. You fought the urge to run away.

“A pleasure, Marianus.” This time, you called him by his second name, determined not to make the same mistake as earlier with a less forgiving man.

“Where are you from?” Quick and to the point, you could respect that. Logically, you knew that this wasn’t real, that ultimately, this was your dream and you held all the power, but there was a little voice in the back of your head telling you to be careful. “Are you a citizen, a slave, or a free-man?”

Licking your dry lips, you let your hand fall to your side, shoving it in your pocket before Marianus could see that you had begun to shake. “I am from a country far away. Across the western sea, farther than any have ever gone. I am a citizen of my country, but not of Rome, and I am no slave, so I suppose that makes me a free-man.”

“You suppose?” He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I ‘suppose’ I won’t assume you’re a liar and a runaway. If I hadn’t just witnessed that…” Marianus paused, searching for the right word, and you hoped it would be one you recognized. “Technique of yours, I would figure just that. Tell me, medicus, what exactly did you do to one of my men?”

“I, uh…” Your tongue felt too big for your mouth. Whatever answer you gave this man, it better be satisfactory. All you could hope for was that the truth would be enough. “His heart was no longer beating, so I pressed upon his chest as hard as I could in the same rhythm that his heart would take.”

Marianus nodded, his expression contemplative. “And the kiss?”

“It was not a kiss!” The words burst forth before you could stop them, your face flaring even hotter. This entire conversation was reminiscent of one you would have with your father, and Marianus’ disapproval was getting to you more than it should. “I was breathing air into his lungs. I inhale, pinch his nose shut so the air doesn’t escape through his sinuses, and then blow into his mouth. If his chest rises, I am doing the procedure correctly.”

“Still, an intimate gesture to bestow upon a stranger.” His lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. You got the feeling he was teasing you now. “From what I can gather, this technique of yours mimics the functions of life in order to coaxe the spirit back into its vessel.”

You blinked, opening your mouth to argue with scientific facts. A beat passed before you snapped your jaw shut with an audible click. Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth. “I, uh, yes. It does. That is exactly it. You are a very intelligent man, Marianus, perhaps a career in medicine is calling your name.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, medicus.”

An awkward grimace pulled at your lips. “Right.”

Marianus was both unmoved and undeterred by your lame response. You expected him to leave you be. After all, despite the fact that you saved one of his men from drowning, you were still an outsider to both the village, the army, and Rome. In your head, he owed you nothing, all you did was your duty and you expected nothing in return. Marianus seemed to think otherwise.

“Where have you been sleeping, medicus?” With a sharp nod of his head, he gestured to your duffel bag and drying clothes. “I assume outside in the heat considering how poorly you are spoken of in town. Looking and speaking as you do, it’s no wonder anyone is hesitant to even allow you to sleep in their barn.” Again, the edges of his mouth curled upwards. “You are far more useful than previously anticipated. For once, I am happy to have my assumptions proven false.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Fetch your belongings, there are more men waiting to be your patients back at camp.”

You blinked, dumbfounded, before a sharp raise of Marianus’ black eyebrows broke you from your spell. If there were more people to be treated, you didn’t have to be told twice. With a bit of pep in your step, excited to have something to do rather than waste away in tedium, you stuffed your, now dry, clothes into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Marianus eyed it with no small amount of reservation.

“Do you carry any weapons?”

You thought about your taser and pepper spray tactically placed in an easy to reach pocket on the side. “No. As a doctor, I consider myself a pacifist.”

Marianus snorted. “A good way to die.”

“Better to die giving life than taking it,” You replied easily. This wasn’t a lie. While you didn’t fault other’s for violence — how could you fault human nature? — you would rather heal before harm. A part of you hoped to balance the scales, do enough good to make the bad seem worth it. It was a lofty goal, one you tried not to dwell on. So long as you managed to help even a single person in your life, you would be happy, though you’d never confine yourself to such a meager goal. “If you don’t mind me asking, do your men not already have a doctor to treat them? Why take on a stranger’s help?”

“We did. He is no longer with us.”

You frowned. “A shame. Lose one soldier, and you only lose one man. Lose a doctor and your losses double. I never met him, but I’ll remember him fondly.”

“You’re soft. It’s a shame.” His words made you raise your eyebrows, and, when you looked at him, there was pity in his dark eyes, though it was only there for a second.

Marianus clamped his hand on the back of your neck and began to steer you in the direction of the camp. With few trees in sight, only lush farms and tall grass, the countryside was a sight to behold. You glanced over your shoulder to see the river and the village disappearing in the distance. While the road the two of you walked on was dirt, it was well trodden, no stones or holes to trip over. This truly was the Roman Empire. How your mind managed to conjure an image so beautiful and so unmistakably alien was beyond you.

“Has there been anyone caring for the injured?” You asked.

“Our veterinarius has been doing what he can, though I don’t like it. These are men, not animals.” To punctuate his displeasure, Marianus spit on the ground.

You nodded placatingly as you approached the first cluster of tents. Some of the soldiers recognized you, though you didn’t recognize them in return. Word traveled fast when you save someone’s life, you supposed. “I’m sure he’s doing his best.”

“His best is not enough,” Marianus grumbled.

Before you could respond, the stench of infection and sick filled your senses. If you hadn’t done clinicals or worked in healthcare while you completed your studies, it would have caught you off guard. Instead of blanching, you took your last deep breath of clean air, and braced yourself as much as you could. Marianus almost seemed impressed by the determination on your face as you pulled back the flap of the tent, joining a frazzled looking man — the veterinarius, you assumed — in his rounds.

All you could do was your best, and you intended for that to be enough.

Even as a student, you had steeled your heart to the worst suffering had to offer. Growing up as you did, with parents more interested in results than feelings, it became all too easy to turn off your bleeding heart and do what was necessary. By now, it was as simple as breathing.

Your bedside manner was gentle as you helped a few men, too injured to move, drink water from a ladle. If you were any less busy, you would have insisted it be boiled. Marianus would likely scold you, it was unrealistic for an entire century to boil water for every sick man, let alone every soldier, no matter how sound your advice was. Posca would do for now, as it always had.

For hours, you worked tirelessly, cleaning wounds and calming fevers. You were lucky modern medicine wasn’t all that you studied. In order to help as many people as you could, you focused on ancient and holistic practices as well, though you had an easy preference for the tried and true methods. There was no denying that you were a medical prodigy, a genius for all intents and purposes. It wasn’t that you had an ego — well, maybe you did — it was the fact that it was the truth. You had graduated college before you had turned eighteen and gone through medical school soon after. Right now, you were the youngest student going through their surgical residency in your state, perhaps even the country if you dared to let your pride swell. All of this, your parents would call their doing, that you would be nothing without their guidance.

You grimaced in the middle of setting a skinny man’s broken arm. Better not think about them now, it would only serve to stress you out even further. For all your skill, you caught yourself floundering inside the medical tent, Marianus watching from the entrance as you flitted from patient to patient, and the veterinarius sitting back to take a much needed break. While you had some supplies on you — a stethoscope, a sphygmomanometer, a Taylor hammer, none of which you’d utilized yet, a bottle of antiseptic, some ibuprofen, and three clean syringes — it wasn’t enough for you to feel comfortable. Which was ridiculous, this was your dream, you could do whatever you wanted.

Then again, if that was true, then why were you fumbling through even simple procedures? You didn’t feel comfortable using more invasive methods, not unless you had no other choice. The likelihood of survival was low, even with your steady hands. Perhaps this was a nightmare, a look into what life will be like once you were done with your schooling. Your slumbering mind was preparing you to be the failure you were always meant to be.

Shaking your head, you focused your attention back on your patient. No one seemed to notice your lapse, not even you. You were quite good at multitasking, mixing self-deprecation with stringent work ethic like a talented seamster. The skinny man was lucky it was a clean break, and even luckier, it wasn’t his humerus, which would have been more complicated given your lack of equipment. A bit of sweat trickled down your forehead as you stood, surveying the men around you. You had done well given the circumstances, but you still couldn’t help but feel as though it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was ever enough.

Even dreaming, you felt tired.

Three men had infected wounds. One was oozing pus, which apparently was a good thing according to the veterinarius and Marianus, though you still took care to clean the wound thoroughly. Another man had a fever due to the infection, and, after washing your hands, you took care to clean it as the other. After much reassurance that it wasn’t poison to Marianus — consisting of taking one yourself — you also gave him an ibuprofen for his fever, though you decided you were going to ration them unless it was an emergency. The third man was a bit harder, enough necrotic tissue forming around the infection that you considered surgery. For now, you introduced maggots to the area, a treatment Marianus seemed to approve of, if not with some disgust. In the morning, you would check the wound, and then surgically remove the decayed flesh if the maggots didn’t do enough.

Four men had broken bones, one, his arm, another, his finger, and two, their leg. That was simple enough, if not time consuming getting all the bone fragments to set properly. While you would have much preferred a cast to a splint, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

That wasn’t even to mention the handful of other men with various ailments that filled the tent. Apparently there was someone quarantined elsewhere, suffering from dysentery. According to the veterinarius, the treatment for that particular disease was rest, fasting, and dehydration, which you were in the middle of giving him strict instructions to keep the man as hydrated as possible, it didn’t matter how quickly he discharged it, he needed to be drinking as much water as he could. You didn’t hold out much hope he’d make it, though you’d be damned before you gave up on someone who needed you.

It wasn’t until Marianus clamped his hand on the back of your neck and began to steer you towards the tent’s exit did you realize how exhausted you were. Your eyes burned and your head throbbed. If you were any less of a man, you would have taken one of your ibuprofen to ease the dull ache in your temples. Ultimately, you decided against it. If there came a time when they were necessary and you had run out because of your own weakness, you would never forgive yourself.

“You did well, medicus. Better than I expected, you are very skilled at what you do,” Marianus said as he led you deeper into camp. By now, it was dark, well into the night too judging from the full moon directly overhead.

How long had you been working?

“Thank you. I am usually better than that. I fear my nerves of being in such an unfamiliar country are getting to me.” With the heel of your palm, you scrubbed at your face.

Marianus frowned down at you. “Keep your foreignness to yourself, medicus and you will go far. Though, that will be hard to do with hair like yours.” He looked you up and down, hesitant curiosity creeping into his features. “That strange color… it is not natural, is it?”

A laugh bubbled from your throat. “No, I dyed it. Green is a color I am rather fond of.”

“I am fond of red, but you do not see me painting my hair that color,” He grumbled under his breath, and it reminded you so much of the comments some of your superiors made, that you giggled.

Before you could respond, he gestured to a tent with an outstretched arm. A lantern was on inside, casting the shadow of the single occupant, who was busy sitting cross-legged and writing what seemed to be a letter. While you had reservations of interrupting, Marianus did not.

“Out here, now, boy!” The shadow visibly jumped before pulling back the flap to reveal Aelius. He looked as tired as you did, and truthfully, he stank to high heaven. You struggled not to wrinkle your nose so as not to offend him. Aelius seemed like a nice man.

“Sir?” Was all he managed before Marianus continued to bark his next set of orders.

“Since the two of you were acquainted earlier, and the fact that you were supposed to be monitored, you’ll be bunking together. In the morning, we set a course for Rome.”

You blinked. Did that include you? While you wouldn’t mind getting out of the village and seeing more of what this dream had to offer, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of uncertainty. There was no telling how long this dream would go on, nor how vast it was. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you strolled ‘out of bounds,’ so to speak. Would you be trapped in an infinite void until you awoke? The thought was enough to send a chill down your spine.

“And I will remain here,” You finally said.

Marianus barked out a laugh. “No. You will join us. I still have a use for you.”

As much as you didn’t want to abandon your current patients, you would rather not push your luck any further than you already had. Crossing your arms, you met Marianus’ furrowed brows with your own. “And that use would be?”

To your right, Aelius made a little noise. Your gaze flickered over to him, catching his motion for you to cease, before you ignored it and fixated back on Marianus. He was looking at you like you’d lost your mind. At least enough to question him. A bit of discomfort made your skin itch, you always hated earning the negative attention of a superior.

For a moment, you feared that Marianus would yell at you until the sun rose. He puffed up, shoulders squaring and his lower jaw jutting out before he deflated with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his angular nose. “You are too soft for the army, medicus, and you are too foreign to hope to set up your own clinic, especially without citizenship. There is very little hope for you in the Empire.”

You looked away, feeling cold even as a summer’s breeze blew against your skin. An argument began to boil in the back of your throat, an insistence that this was a dream, so none of that mattered, but you managed to swallow that poison before it could spew out of you.

Marianus paused, waiting for you to respond. When all he received was a defeated look, he continued, “There is, however, hope for both me and you. The emperors require a new physician and I believe they would be taken by your skill and your…” He looked at your hair again. “Novelty. In return for discovering you, if they choose to take you on, me and my men will be rewarded.”

“I see,” You muttered. Perhaps this was the route your dream wanted you to take. At the end of it all, there was sure to be a lesson or even a vision of sorts that could help you in reality. All you had to do to get it was allow the plot to pull you forward. “And Rome is not far?”

Marianus’ features softened, bordering on fondness, guilt, and pity. “Barely a day’s march, medicus.”

“I will go, then. To Rome with me, I suppose.” Though you smiled, when you turned to Aelius, he stared at you as if you’d been sentenced to death.

—————————————-

Tag list: @snazzynacho

[holdtheskeletongrillby]

Also, there's how many quests in the game are geared specifically to deepen the relationships between Hawke and his friends, so you get to see the relationship grow outside of the romance scenes in a way that affects the feeling of the romance and the roleplay of the romance, which I don't think happens in any of the other games.

Like my favorite order of some particular quests in Act 2 give a different vibe to the romance than if you do things differently.

I love to hit the Questioning Beliefs, then the Hadriana quest, then do Aveline's quest with just Fenris in the party (thank fuck for the Dog), then Feynriel with Fenris and not Merrill, the serial killer quest, and then the gift. Doing it in this order and way has the break-up storyline basically running a route of Hawke and Fenris trying to push through the awkwardness in the Most way possible, Fenris admitting he wishes he was on even ground with the Magisters and betraying Hawke (whose heart he already broke) for the chance at that only to be comforted for giving in by Hawke (and in my case it's Mage Hawke, so he really knows how easy it could be to give in despite never doing it himself), and then extending that comfort back at Leandra's death despite how unsure he is on how to do that, followed by the reading lessons. This order, to me, puts the breakup period as also firmly them being together, just... independently? Like they're still growing around and into each other while Fenris is working on healing and Hawke is just doing his best to deal with everything on his plate. They're together, just not together, not officially or sexually or anything else until they can Talk About It, but they're both not ready to Talk About It, but until then the anxiety about it isn't there. When Fenris laments not just saying it earlier in Act 3, it just hits me with an extra layer of a -It would have been so easy, it was right there the whole time.-

Not having Fenris or taking Merrill to the Feynriel quest, not having a solo date with Fenris during Aveline's quest or even not taking him at all, doing the Hadrianna quest later in the Act even, idk, it changes the vibe and I love that. Add in the Rivalry system and the little differences if you're a mage or not and that's so many permutations on how their relationship can feel (even if I can't rival Fenris even if I could get myself to not romance him). Heck, my first run, I didn't understand anything, and somehow I triggered the Act 2 romance in Act 3 and was under the impression they were broken up for two weeks until I looked it up and played again.

Um. Yeah. This game is the best one.

Guess I'll never be free of this ship.

Now that I think of it, the very format of DA2 made it impossible for me to move on to anything else (at least in terms of video games).

Hawke's story took about 7 years.

They gave us a love story that was developing over the course of at least six years - not one or two which appears to be the norm for an adventure.

We saw Hawke and Fenris meet, slowly get closer, gradually develop deep trust and affection for each other, break up to figure themselves out, pine for each other, and finally get back together to the point where you know nothing will be able to keep them apart.

I just can't imagine anything that could ever beat that.

I am ruined forever.

[cultivating-wildflowers]

initial Emily Wilde* thoughts:

I love her your honor

I would kill for Shadow (but also what kind of dog is he?? because she said boarhound [I think] which comes up as Great Dane but she mentioned his forelock I think???)

NORDIC**. ISLAND.

eeeee she's my age! (this is so rare right now asgha;ghgh)

these people sound like Dracula

I also love Bambleby. haven't even met him and I am completely enamored.

placing hold for the sequel as we speak

*[*squints* Emily Wilde..... Ah. Emily Windsnap. That's what it reminds me of.]

**I said Norwegian originally and that's not quite accurate but who's counting?

[stargirl230]

Art summary 2024!

Was fighting for my life trying to fill in those last few months but I managed it without using too many wips or bday cards (rip september)

Huge ty to everyone who stuck around - pls know that I read all your kind tags and messages (often multiple times in disbelief) and that they always make my year <3

(no reposts!)

[silverskye13]

My brother in law let me borrow Sonic Frontiers [also read: asked me if I had access to a PS5 and when I said yes, handed it to me and said "play this"] and now my two biggest gaming nightmares are merged into one! [Fast paced gaming mechanics and open world map structures]

Anyway, I've been playing for 8 hours.

[oh-no-its-bird]

OH MY GOD NO BC I LOVE THIS???

Secretly just wolf summons Hatake... what did Tobirama do that made them like him so much? He somehow managed to tempted them into playing human for at least 3 generations (before presumably they got bored of it and fucked off)

There must have been any adjustment period for them to learn how to be human, and it must have been so fucking funny to see actually

I am picturing. Office scene.

Ok so picture this with me please:

Early Kohona. You are working in the newly established hokage tower. One of your new co workers is this Hatake guy.

Hes kind of weird, but it's whatever— a lot of clans, especially the animal ones have some quirks. You've heard the Hatake especially were a wild clan living the middle of nowhere Iron Country, super shit education, super isolated, super poor social skills. Apparently some of them can't even read.

You try to tell yourself it's whatever, and he really is nice— but he's also really fucking weird.

You've walked in on him eating out of a bowl by shoving his entire face into it and licking it clean like 10 times. Almost every single time he gives you a sort of deer in the headlights look and immediatley scrambles to use a spoon, holding it like he doesn't know how to use it.

You're pretty sure he keeps summoning his giant ass wolf summons in the office for some reason ??? You keep seeing flickers of fur, a tail flicking around the corner, that sort of thing.

(Your desk chair is apparently its favorite place to sleep because it's constantly covered in heavy grey fur. He denies it but looks guilty every time you bring it up. Once he even mumbled, "I dunno maybe you just smell nice to him." under his breath when you tried to shake an answer out of him. This did not endear him to you.)

He's an absolutely shit liar, especially for a shinobi. Whatever he thinks is usually written across his face in big, bold letters. It's almost like he has no control over his face at all, doesn't know how to still his expressions.

He keeps bringing you dead things, and at first you thought it was some sort of hazing ritual but now you're pretty sure it's supposed to be some sort of olive branch...? He once dumped an entire rabbit carcass on your desk. Your summons are rabbits. Obviously, you took this to be a threat.

After a week of nonstop stress, when you finally explained the misunderstanding to him, he looked only a little crushed.

Sorry I got a little carried away but like u get the picture. Early Kohona Hatake's being absoloutley awful at playing human but trying their best.

(Even tho that kind of ended up turning into a failed office romance au. Poor unnamed Hatake, u will never get the guy for they know what you are ((a freaky little weirdo))

ANYWAYS UMMM.

Sakumo being raised by Hatake who've already learned to play human (and being raised among actual humans) and being so much better at it

Then Kakashi doing the same but past another generation so he's even more distanced from being a real wolf

Actually funniest option: Sakumo dies like in canon and Kakashi, left alone, does actually believe he's a human boy. No one is here to tell him otherwise anymore.

Maybe it's a way to cope with his father's death, who knows

I think for this specific bit it'd be funny if the human disguise was a henge (that for some reason just can't be seen through, don't think ab it too hard)

Kakashi is LITERALLY a whole ass dog, the henge doesn't work on his own eyes, when he looks in the mirror he sees a dog. But he's just. Convinced he's a human boy. He is a human boy.

Kannabi bridge happens and Obito and him swap eyes but somehow because Dog(tm) Obito survived and goes back to Kohona with them.

But now because he and Kakashi exchanged eyes, he can see through the fucking henge. And he is losing his GODDAMN MIND !!!!

He thinks he's going insane at first.

Rin puts Kakashi's eye into his skull, and hes like, still under rocks or whatever. Rin is like "is it... working?"

And Obito coughs weakly and squints and looks up at her like "y-yeah, yeah I think—"

And theres just this record scratch as he suddenly notices the fluffy dog that's. Right there. Wearing Kakashi's uniform. With Obito's eye in his skull.

And Obito just cuts off abruptly, staring at Kakashi as he let's out a really high pitched "UM."

And then the dog speaks in Kakashi's voice and goes, "Obito, what's wrong?"

And Obito let's put an even louder, more high pitched, "U M ."

And now Rin is asking if he's ok too, looking super worried, but all Obito can blurt is,

"KAKASHI ??? WHY ARE YOU A DOG ?????"

Both Rin and Kakashi go silent, and then Kakashi, sounding genuinley distressed, is like, "Rin you were supposed to switch our eyes, not give him a lobotomy!!!"

Rin is putting her head in her hands starting to cry and going "ITS HARDER THAN IT LOOKS OK"

Anyways, they somehow get Obito knocked loose and return to Kohona and the entire fucking time Obito feels like he's going INSANE, but he's trying so hard not to comment on it bc Rin started crying ab how she'd made him crazy with her medical malpractice girlboss moment as Kakashi (dogkashi???) Looked as close to 'about to throw up' as a canine can look.

Anyways just. Obito losing his mind about Kakashi secretly being a fucking dog and Kakashi insisting he is a Normal Human Boy, he promises.

Every time someone has a crush on Kakashi or smthn Obito loses his mind even more bc theyre like "ohh he's so handsome...he's so mysterious..."

And Obito is like, head in his hands "he's a DOG he's an actual literal DOG"

He's given up trying to tell people this bc they either think he's crazy, trying to insult Kakashi somehow, or are like "ahaha yeah that dog lmao, what a man" (which is somehow the most upsetting result for Obito)

Obito confronts Kakashi multiple times and usually comes out of the conversation w Kakashi going some flavor of "do u hate me bc I'm different :(" and Obito going "am I... dog racist? Dogist...?"

Anyways, final thoughts: They made a dog the Hokage. (And he was somehow one of the most effective Hokage's in decades)

Hodogke....

Saw this art on twitter by @1iemak and it got me thinking ab silly things

Naruto au where everything is exactly the same in every way, but Kakashi is inexplicably a wolf. This changes literally nothing; he's just a wolf now. Not anthro or anything just. A wolf.

No one ever comments on it but its implied that he's been using genjutsu to make everyone think he's human.

The only one who has ever been able to see through this was Obito (possibly due to sharing eyes with him) and if he ever mentions it to anyone, they think he's crazy. (Crazier)

[firelise]

Film & TV I Think About A Lot » Crooklyn (1994) dir. Spike Lee

At least my hair isn't standing on my head sticking straight out looking all like Topsy. I don't know who Topsy is, but it looks stupid, and I can't stand it. I can't stand you either. Why don't you sit down with your ol' Black self? I'm Black and I'm proud. She got good hair. She got "Peter" Rican hair.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Nanami frantically digging through Shoko’s pamphlets and googling “how to give the ward you just met a sex talk” after the last chapter, this poor man needs a Xanax and a 12 hour nap SO badly right now 😂😂

fantastic chapter btw!! I love love love maki and am fully prepared to be terrorized by her plan—terror for her having to deal with the Zenin and terrorized because that girl is batshit insane and can do anything she sets her mind to ❤️

(I have a sneaking suspicion that her plan involves that mysterious “Okkotsu Yuuta as the world’s most unenthusiastic honeypot” tag, and OH BOY OH BOY am I on tenterhooks to see what insanity (positive) Maki comes up with)

Hope you have a great day!!

Nanami, frantically rushing to r/Parenting for this fucking hurdle of fatherhood:

I (27M) may have discovered my newly adopted son (16M) is in a relationship of indeterminate and possibly intimate nature with his three (15F, 15M, 15M) friends. I need emergency advice.

I only met/took in my eldest a few days ago. Those days have been extremely trying, and have unfortunately placed a very stressful burden on my son. I have tried to support him in any way I can; however, the young character of our relationship makes me fear overstepping his boundaries. I do not want to rush anything which may damage any trust he may form in me in the long run.

As a result, I do not believe having “The Talk” with him would be appropriate at this juncture. However, I fear it may be necessary.

I recently approached him while he was visiting with his close friends in a private room. I knocked (from what I believed to be a respectful distance designed to preserve his privacy) and heard a series of… disconcerting noises. His friend (15M) then proceeded to claim that he could not open the door because they were indecent. The door was quickly opened, and all parties were clothed, but this and other behaviors between the group make me wonder if they have something deeper than friendship between them.

His previous parents were neglectful, and the main influence he has had in recent months is… a rather sorry role model. I believe the assumption that he has not yet learned of safe sexual practices is appropriate. I want him to be comfortable with me before we speak of such matters, but I also want him to be safe in the present.

A complicating factor is that one of his friends (15M) rather frequently wears a hyper realistic panda costume. I bear absolutely no judgment or prejudice against any of his potential partners and support him in his relationship. However, I do not actually know the specifics that should be covered in a talk given the particularities of these partners.

Another complicating factor is that one of his friends (15F) would have been better off being raised by wolves than the sorry excuses of humanity that raised her. While I fear that I may overstep boundaries by speaking with my new ward about such topics so soon, I would most certainly overstep boundaries by broaching the matter with her. At the same time, I cannot deny my suspicions that such a conversation would be desperately needed. How should I proceed?

The fucking comments:

what is wrong with you and your life

there is no way you are a real person

ThatOneGuyinthePandaCostumeTokyo.com is this them

your kid is a furry

Nothing in Nanami’s years of teen parenting prepared him for that moment. The man discovered types of panic he did not know existed. POV you’ve known this boy for three days max and you’re the person Responsible For His Wellbeing and mid crisis you have to figure out 1) if it’s too soon in your relationship to give him the safe sex talk 2) if you can even avoid the safe sex talk if what seems to be happening is happening 3) would it even be appropriate to give the safe sex talk to the people he would be potentially having sex with and 4) is he a furry.

Nanami was not prepared to be confronted with this particular challenge of parenting. Especially because Megumi gave Tsumiki the puberty talk, no one’s been brave enough to give her the sex talk, and the entire teen parenting group has Megumi as too Baby in their minds to have even contemplated giving him any talks.

You have NO IDEA how excited I am for that tag.

Thank you for your kind words! I’m glad you liked it!

[hiis-theme]

somewhere out there is an alternate timeline where toby was correct and people actually did hate spamton. could you imagine that. i have to imagine we wouldn't have gotten the spamton sweepstakes in that case which is crazy to think about given how much lore that gave us-

[tetsunabouquet]

ITS OFFICIAL! ITS PAST MIDNIGHT! I AM 26!

[ahollowgrave]

Hiiii do you have any more writings or musings about None? I was in your writing tag the other night and they came up a couple times but I'm not sure if I should be picturing a miqo'te or some sort of service animal/familiar lol

Hello! That's so fair, my Odette writings do not offer a lot of description for them! They do have their own tag [HERE] although not much is in it, currently. Some of the screenshots I'm including here and the writings which you've already seen! I'm very sorry for how rambling this is but None is where a lot of alts and relationships spawn from! None is neither a miqo'te nor a service animal (though I think they'd give a huff at the title)! None is the saddest creature in the whole world, a widower, Odette's favorite lil guy, Gerry's estranged step-parent, and a Lalafell:

A Lalafell ranger who makes their living guiding people through the Shroud. These days they are 'mostly' retired. They're well past their middle age and when they were younger they made a deal with sylphs. To be fleet-footed and quick and the best hunter. It came with some side effects:

They wear a hat to cover the ears. It's a bit silly to have two sets and, frankly, None doesn't wanna talk about it. They are stoic, pragmatic, and a bit of a hermit when they can afford it. None is a widower, their late wife was an duskwight woman named Aloutte, who was a widow herself with a young child; Geraldine. None and Gerry were never close and in the wake of Aloutte's passing that distant only grew. None and Odette met at the Menphina temple she was raised at. The Sisters there offer grief counseling and when Aloutte first fell sick she made them go to make the transition easier. A child at the time, Odette was obsessed from the moment they met. A pale shadow trailing after them. Where None failed with Gerry, they bonded with Odette. After Aloutte's passing None returned to the temple to live long term, some grievers need more support than others, they and Odette spent a lot of time together. They very much fill a uncle/aunt role for Odette; a trusted advisor who isn't the adults who raised her. When Odette took her vows and started to travel it was None who traveled with her, taught her basic outdoors skills, bought her Beauty and taught her how to care for chocobos. When Odette has to leave her flock of karakul to travel it is None she calls to care for them. Also, while Aloutte's loss and the grief that follows is very important to None as a character I feel it is important to note they were the saddest creature in the whole world before they knew the warmth of Aloutte's embrace! Sometimes you're just born with a heavy heart, you know? Because of how important they are to Odette. Odile... fucking hates their guts. Oooh, she hates their guts so much!!! The feeling is mutual and Odile and None have come to blows a few times. Something they both keep from Odette; None because they don't want to make her worry, Odile because she'll use the information to drive a wedge at some point. None also features in Odette's WoL AU, they're an honorary scion and spend most of their time with the other off-screen members. They spend time with Krile and Tatatru discussing lalafell things and I like to imagine that F'lhaminn and None have a lot to talk about. This is... pretty long so I will stop here! But I hope this satisfies some curiosity about None and thank you SO MUCH for asking about them!

[arundolyn]

you ever just remember how good music is

[orcelito]

Still thinking about that bookmarks comment on my fic BTW I can't believe it was there 3 months ago and I just now saw it. I've been a horrible fanfic parent. It's ok tho ITNL I will give you attention once more