#Content Marketing Through Blogs

[3416]

1634 make me genuinely ill because there are just.... so few bonds in this sport where you look at them and go. that was 100% meant to happen like that and no one else could've slotted in. like yea, so many of players across the league form close bonds and friendships bc that's the nature of spending a whole part of your life sharing a common goal and space when you're like.. doing this team activity... and guys are constantly befriending ppl and moving on... but auston and mitch it's like. it's almost like THEY feel that they were supposed to have that bond... and go out of their way to reaffirm it at every turn... like they met and got along and loved each other immediately and were so excited to get to play hockey together only to NOT get to for a long while and while they waited, they ??? developed all these rituals. and these things together... their personal routines, things to communicate to each other that they have each other's backs and are building each other into their visions and superstitions and dreams, some of which we'll never know about (unless they'd so kindly like to tell us a la mitch's interview with cabbie where he says maybe some day he'll share the gifts auston's gotten him w the world. tell all book when mitch).. but their gloves and their handshakes and their warmups and even the way they walk into road games and it's jsut. like it's friendship, for sure, obviously. they get along off the ice and make each other laugh the most and have a good time, but it's also the inextricable linking of their own careers. BY THEIR OWN DOING. like they want their names jotted next to each other and that's PART of the chase for this greater goal. yes, they would have been talked about in tandem anyway bc they're out here being the best leafs ever and hitting milestones like 500 points.... 600 points... just weeks apart from each other season to season. but also it's their commitment to each other that makes them talked about too. it's commentators saying they love to play together bc they can see it. they've heard them talk about it. they watch it. "marner to matthews" "matthews to marner". they're always gonna know where each other are.... it makes me . feel. violent with love, lol. makes me feel like some things are definitely meant to be.

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Femslash February Posting Schedule

Hello, everyone! Breaking my way out of the queue to, once again, do a little more market research! I know that I have followers from all over the place, but I wanted to see when people are most inclined to not only see, but potentially read, my work!

I know that, for my little Weeklies, I post the tumblr links at 11 am EST, and I posted my Inktober fics at 9 pm EST. So, tell me, oh lovely followers of mine...

[kota07]

How Content Marketing Works?

Introduction:

Content creation & marketing has been a core part of Marketing for a long time. But what many people get wrong when creating a content marketing strategy is Storytelling!

Storytelling can be the difference between marketing that is impactful and something which is just another Ad on social media.

Needless to say, storytelling is not the only thing that is important for content marketing, there are many things that one has to determine when creating their content marketing strategy. Target audience, brand voice, consistency, quality, brand colours, type of content etc. In this article we’ll look at the needs & ways to create a content marketing strategy that works best for your brand & business.

Why do you need Content Marketing?

Content Marketing is the process of creating & distributing various types of content like videos, articles, social media posts, blogs etc. to attract the attention of your target audience, spread awareness about your brand & convert the same audience into loyal customers. 

Content marketing has been around since old times. From the town crier selling newspapers in the city square to the pop-up ads that you see after visiting a website. The most visible difference is the priority given to the way we market our content today.

Research shows that businesses with blogs get 67% more leads & 67% marketers claim to have seen an increase in leads due to B2B content marketing.

With the current algorithms of social media platforms which pushes short video content, Instagram reels & Youtube shorts have shown to be nearly 88% more effective when included in content marketing plans. 

Benefits of Content Marketing: 

Online Visibility

Better Lead Generation

Customer Loyalty 

Creating a Content Strategy from Scratch

To be able to take full advantage of content marketing one needs to prepare a well researched strategy. A usual content marketing strategy consists of the following: 

Goals & KPIs 

Determining Target Audience

Content Research & Type

Distribution Channels 

Re-evaluation & Optimizations

SEO’s role in Content Marketing

SEO or Search Engine Optimisation is the king of marketing your content organically to your target audience. Thus, it is imperative to optimise your content as per the latest SEO standards set by search engines like google chrome, firefox etc. 

It is also important to make sure that you:

Avoid keyword stuffing

Use relevant & specific keywords

Optimise meta-tags &  description properly

Content Marketing using A.I

Content Marketing is no exception to this, with A.I you can boost your work efficiency  in many stages of your plan, such as:

Automated Creation 

Personalisation 

Predictive Analysis

Evaluation & Measuring your Success

Understand that marketing is a never-ending process. This is because the factors that drive the market & the customers are always changing. Thus, making it detrimental to your content marketing efforts.

Measure your content’s marketing effectiveness by:

Tracking Engagement Metrics 

Monitoring Website Traffic 

Lead Generation 

Social Shares 

SEO Performance

[espialsolution]

Can Social Media Marketing Help Your Brand Grow?

In today’s digitally-driven world, social media marketing has evolved from a trendy buzzword to an essential strategy for businesses of all sizes. From startups to established enterprises, leveraging social media platforms can significantly contribute to brand growth. But how exactly can social media marketing help your brand grow? Let’s explore the key ways in which this powerful tool can elevate your brand.

1. Enhanced Brand Awareness

Social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, and TikTok offer unparalleled opportunities to reach vast audiences. With billions of users globally, these platforms provide a stage where your brand can gain visibility. By consistently posting relevant and engaging content, your brand can reach people who may never have heard of it otherwise. Social media marketing helps in creating a recognizable brand identity, ensuring that your business remains top of mind for potential customers.

2. Targeted Advertising

One of the standout features of social media marketing services is the ability to target specific audiences with precision. Platforms like Facebook and Instagram allow you to create highly targeted ads based on demographics, interests, behavior, and more. This means you can tailor your marketing efforts to reach people who are most likely to be interested in your products or services, resulting in higher conversion rates. Targeted advertising not only maximizes your marketing budget but also ensures that your brand message reaches the right people at the right time.

3. Customer Engagement and Relationship Building

Brands that actively engage with their audience on social media build stronger relationships with their customers. Responding to comments, answering queries, and even addressing complaints in a timely manner can foster loyalty and trust. Moreover, satisfied customers often share their positive experiences, leading to organic word-of-mouth promotion, which can be incredibly valuable for brand growth.

4. Insights and Analytics

Social media platforms offer robust analytics tools that provide insights into how your content is performing. These tools allow you to track metrics such as engagement rates, click-through rates, and audience demographics. By analyzing this data, you can refine your marketing strategies, focusing on what works and discarding what doesn’t. This continuous optimization is key to growing your brand effectively over time.

5. Increased Website Traffic and SEO Benefits

Social media marketing can drive significant traffic to your website. By sharing blog posts, product pages, and other valuable content on social media, you can entice users to visit your site, where they can learn more about your brand and offerings. Additionally, social media activity can indirectly influence your search engine rankings. While social signals are not a direct ranking factor, they contribute to the overall online presence of your brand, which search engines may consider when ranking your website.

6. Cost-Effective Marketing

Compared to traditional advertising methods, social media marketing is relatively cost-effective. Many platforms offer free account creation and posting options, with the option to run paid campaigns that can fit any budget. This makes social media an accessible tool for businesses of all sizes, particularly for startups and small businesses that may have limited marketing budgets. The return on investment (ROI) from well-executed social media campaigns can be substantial, making it a smart choice for brand growth.

Conclusion

Social media marketing services is a dynamic and versatile tool that can significantly contribute to your brand’s growth. From increasing brand awareness and engagement to driving website traffic and providing valuable insights, the benefits are vast. By strategically leveraging social media, your brand can not only reach new heights but also stay competitive in today’s fast-paced digital landscape.

About The Author

Espial Solutions serve Startups, SME, and large Enterprises,with SEO, SMM, PPC, Branding, and Digital Marketing services. . Contact for More Information!

[worksmarter4yourfuture]

Crafting A Green Business and Marketing Strategy

Crafting a Green Business and Marketing Strategy: Charting a Sustainable Course In today’s world, the call for sustainable and eco-conscious business practices is louder than ever. Entrepreneurs are increasingly recognizing the importance of integrating environmentally friendly initiatives into their operations.  Crafting a Green Business and marketing strategy not only benefits the planet but…

[adverb01]

Why is digital marketing important for any business?

Digital marketing has become essential for any successful organisation in today's business environment. By utilising internet platforms and technologies, companies may interact with potential clients, reach a larger audience, and increase conversion rates. The importance of communication and marketing for companies is examined in this essay, with an emphasis on boosting Adverb Communications in Noida.

[branddiariesingurgaon]

How to Use Video Marketing to Grow Your Business

Introduction

Video marketing is a powerful tool that can be used to reach your target audience, generate leads, and drive sales. When done right, video marketing can help you grow your business.

In this article, we will discuss the benefits of video marketing, how to create effective video marketing content, and how to promote your videos.

The Benefits of Video Marketing

There are many benefits to using video marketing for your business. Here are a few of the most important benefits:

Increased brand awareness: Video can help you increase brand awareness by giving potential customers a better understanding of your company and what you do.

Lead generation: Video can help you generate leads by providing potential customers with information about your products or services that they can't get anywhere else.

Sales: Video can help you drive sales by convincing potential customers to buy your products or services.

Improved customer loyalty: Video can help you improve customer loyalty by showing potential customers that you are a company that cares about their needs.

How to Create Effective Video Marketing Content

If you want to use video marketing to grow your business, it's important to create effective video marketing content. Here are a few tips for creating effective video marketing content:

Keep it short and sweet: People have short attention spans, so make sure your videos are no longer than 2-3 minutes.

Use a strong call to action: Tell viewers what you want them to do after watching your video, whether it's visiting your website, signing up for your email list, or making a purchase.

Use humor and storytelling: People are more likely to remember and share videos that are funny or tell a story.

Use high-quality video and audio: Your videos should look and sound professional.

Optimize your videos for search engines: Include relevant keywords in your video titles, descriptions, and tags so that people can find your videos when they search for information on your topic.

How to Promote Your Videos

Once you've created effective video marketing content, you need to promote your videos. Here are a few ways to promote your videos:

Share your videos on social media: Social media is a great way to get your videos in front of a large audience.

Embed your videos on your website: Embedding your videos on your website will make them more accessible to potential customers.

Send your videos in email marketing campaigns: Email marketing is a great way to reach your existing customers with your video marketing content.

Run video ads: Video ads can be a great way to reach a large audience with your video marketing content.

Conclusion

Video marketing is a powerful tool that can be used to grow your business. By following the tips in this article, you can create effective video marketing content and promote your videos to reach your target audience and achieve your marketing goals.

View Source: Blogger.com

[sdinfoblog1]

Why You Should Be Blogging Trust-Building SEO BoostingBlogging is a powerful tool that can help you build trust with your audience, improve your search engine rankings, and boost your online presence. In this video, we discuss the importance of blogging, how it fosters audience engagement, and showcases your expertise and credibility. Moreover, we'll explain how producing high-quality content can lead to better search engine rankings. Don't miss out on the benefits blogging can bring to your online strategy!

[lolaandthens0me]

I get asked this all the time, "So, how did you get into this whole diaper thing in the first place?"

I thought I'd take a moment to talk about it!

I am not a "factory-installed" abdl, but rather an "after-market upgrade".  I was first introduced to diapers and the whole abdl scene through my ex. They, being a longtime DL, told me about their diaper fetish pretty early on in our relationship.  I was only 18 or 19 at the time and thus quite innocent and inexperienced in kink and sexuality in general. I was at first a little confused by the thought of being turned on by diapers, but very open-minded to learn about and discover why this fluffy, absorbent plastic-backed thing did it for them, and for so many others I came to find out!

They encouraged me to do a bit of investigating and education on my own into the world of AB/DL to see if I could find something about it that spoke to or resonated with me.  I popped my online-kink cherry on the Tumblr of old. The Tumblr where porn, especially diaper porn, reigned like golden rays of sunshine. You could find it all and see it all on Tumblr back in the day. I quickly stumbled upon lots of ddlg content, and here was this thing that seemed to incorporate my budding, but long held interest in being submissive *and* my ex's interest in diapers. And ~voila!~ MisterAndLola was born.

We focused on building a ddlg dynamic, including the use of some AB stuff like onesies, cute socks, Goodnites, and calling them Daddy. We started our first Tumblr blog, TheDiaperedandtheDamned.  We began to take some cute pictures and post them on Tumblr and Reddit. I bought a few toys and coloring books, decorated our Guest Room with some decals and fairy lights, and started to try to wet in my pull-ups. 

It turns out, it was a lot harder than I thought! I would practice wetting while sitting on the toilet and when home alone. I was extremely nervous about leaking, and was struggling to get my potty-trained brain and body to let go. My ex had the thought -  why not get some adult diapers and try those?  I would surely not leak using those and it might make me feel safer or more comfy in the thought of "unpotty-training" my mind. The crazy thing is, it worked. And there I was, wearing diapers.  I believe the first couple I tried were ABU Lavenders and DC Amors. I felt extremely silly, but also shyly naughty wearing these crinkly, poofy undergarments. And the thought of peeing my pants, wherever I was, started to turn me on.  The taboo factor of willingly peeing in my "underwear" as a thriving, strong adult woman felt delicious.  I loved the feeling of being naughty. 

The first time I finally full-on wet my diaper, I immediately felt burning humiliation. And that also made me feel deliciously naughty. It turns out, I really have a thing for pee. My own, others’, it excites me and always pushes my button.  I don’t have an inherent fetish for diapers, but I think I do for pee, or more generally, liquids.  Even the feel of my own slippery wetness when I’m aroused does it for me.  And being covered in cum��yup…that does it for me too.

After months of growing and exploring and trying on the role of “little girl”, I realized that I really don’t find a lot of joy or fulfillment in age play.  The ddlg dynamic wasn’t really working for me or my partner at the time. But the fondness and growing arousal for being in and peeing in diapers…that was just beginning. Thus, my diaper kink was born.

[yenyu1s]

late night snack.. kang no-eul x f!reader

written by @yenyu1s ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang no-eul x f!reader

contents : fluff/comfort, a droplet of hurt? - minor cursing, mentions of assault

synopsis : kang no-eul would've never expect that her late night run to the convenience store would turn into an unexpected moment of warmth, as two strangers find comfort in each other over instant noodles and canned coffee beneath the store’s fluorescent glow.

wc : 3.05k

(a/n) first sg post in my blog! :3 i took inspiration for the storyline from a c.ai bot of kang no-eul made by @collupz ! i really hope you guys enjoy ♡ i might make this into maybe a 2-part, 3-part series? let me know if you liked this one and give me ideas for the next part if you have some on your mind ^-^

(for more, masterlist)

late night snack cravings was a weekly affair for no-eul.

she'd step out of her makeshift house (that is, her teal minivan..) and would make her way to the nearest, cheapest motel to take a hot, soothing shower. before beelining to the nearest CU.

no-eul drowned out the sound of cars buzzing by. rather, she focused on the crunching and rustling of her combat boots on the pavement. her furrowed eyebrows and chiseled face illuminated by the street light's glow, deep in thought.

the annual squid games was about to start, and no-eul was called in to fulfill her role as a guard. her slender fingers brushed against the fabric as they slipped into the pocket of her jacket, searching for the familiar shape of whatever lay inside before finally revealing a business card. she scanned the odd logo, reminiscing of the first time she was given the business card two years back : a circle, square and a triangle. on the other side of the business card a series of numbers forming a phone number.

she wasn't exactly thrilled at the invitation.. yes, the job earned her enough money to pay for food and daily needs, infact it paid more than her usual part-time job as a pink bunny mascot at the local theme park. she was pretty good at being a guard. she liked the quiet thrill humming beneath her skin, the notch and curves of her sniper felt comfortable and familiar.

but the money wasn't enough to fulfill her utmost desire : bringing her daughter home.

a few days ago, no-eul had barged in to the north korean defector shelter, demanding for information of the whereabouts of her daughter. slapping a decent stack of money on the broker's desk.

"let me be honest with you, how do you expect a one-year-old to survive in north korea without her parents?"

the broker’s words cut deep into no-eul’s still beating heart. she had heard the same thing from every north korean broker she visited—each one worn down, their hope long extinguished. but she refused to let go. she clung to the belief that her daughter was still out there, waiting to be wrapped in her arms once more.

she paused beside a narrow, dark alleyway, her decision finally made: she would join this year’s squid games as a guard once again.

she fumbled with her phone to make the anticipated call, business card in hand.

as she was messily typing out the mysterious number on the keypad, a high-pitched shriek pierced through the quiet nocturne, making no-eul's half-lidded eyes widen, and chapped lips part in shock.

"help! stop it!-"

the helpless scream came from the depths of the alleyway. no-eul didn't know what got into her. she was never the type to be a savior, she would usually turn a blind eye.. heck, she kills people for a living!

however, she felt her legs move, picking up her pace, and she entered the unknown, vast alleyway. passing by shut-down market stalls and abandoned storage rooms. the cold air hitting her face as she sprinted.

she reached the end of the backstreet, slowing down at the sight of the end of the alleyway, a brick wall, with you.. cornered. your body being strangled and pushed up by two large men.

"we told you to pay us back until the end of a week! where's our money huh?!" the huge man strangling you spat at your face.

your dangling legs kicked and kicked as you struggled for air, you tried to slap at the hands that strangled you, but the other thug pinned your dainty hands into the cold brick wall.

your panicked eyes found no-eul's stoic ones, hidden under her baseball cap. the older woman burned with quiet fury. she didn't hesitate.

with a swift motion, she lunged toward the first thug - the one who was strangling you. her foot connecting with his knee, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud grunt. she grabbed his collar and shoved him into the brick wall, her voice low and lethal.

"never lay a finger on her ever again."

you leaped out of his grasp, coughing and gasping for air, hitting the hard pavement. the other thug's attention diverted to the mysterious woman that had showed up in your defense.

"ya! who are you, bitch?" he roared, scrambling forward to land a punch.

in a fluid motion, no-eul took charge and grabbed his arm, twisting it before slamming him to the ground, panting as she held him down.

by now, you had already picked yourself up and dusted off the dirt that sprinkled your stockings. you reach to fix your skirt that had been ridden up as you were being hauled into the wall.

your gaze finally fixated at the woman who was kneeing the last thug to remind him of his defeat.

your breath hitched as the moonbeam revealed the woman's face that was hidden beneath her tattered hat. her eyes had something fierce in them, sweet determination. her freckled nose pointed high. you saw how she parted her chapped lips for fresh air, the way she gave the thug a harder shove to the ground with her calloused hands as she scolded him. and, oh, her hands. the muscles under her skin twitch as she held a forceful grip on the thug.

the two men slowly pulled themselves together, not strong enough to pose any threat. they stumbled off to the distance when no-eul loosened her grip on the last man. she ran her hands through her hair before picking up her tall frame from her kneeling position and turning to you.

"you okay?" she exhaled sharply, and brought her full attention to you. her cold eyes scan you up and down, assessing you for any injuries. her demeanor still aloof.

you were.. pretty, to say the least. maybe adorable would be the right word. she was in awe of your doll-like features.. the moonlight gave her the chance to get a better look at you. your hair slightly disheveled from the force those loan sharks brought against you. the way you looked up at her, with admiring eyes.. she felt as if she could have a brain meltdown that second.

"thank you, oh, thank you.." you gushed, snapping out of your trance. you reached for your oversized messenger bag that was left untouched on the ground. "i-i don't know what could've happen to me if you hadn't been there.."

"are you sure you're okay?" the tall woman repeats, more quietly this time. a hint of worry evident in her voice.

"yeah! not even a scratch!.. please, how could i ever thank you?" you assured her as you lift your head to look up at her once again, both of your manicured hands reached for her tense, rough ones. "here, have you eaten dinner yet? i'll buy you dinner at the convenience store down the corner, my treat!"

no-eul scoffed in disbelief as you basically dragged her out of the gloomy alleyway into the sidewalk. you didn't even give her the chance to answer, or think! she squinted and narrowed her eyes at the change of lighting.

"i.. i guess i haven't had dinner yet.." she mumbled, and cursed herself for having no self-control.

i nodded, "me too.. oh, hurry now, unnie, it's getting cold outside." you doted, fixing your pink plaid scarf as you picked up your pace, loafers stomping on the concrete.

no-eul mentally facepalmed herself. it wasn't so much that she was being called unnie, but rather because she was so easily persuaded by you. she would've just outright refused if it was anyone else, but looking at you.. all sweet, innocent like a lamb, even after getting assaulted. your aura was completely different from hers and it fueled something in her.

the woman sighed softly, she followed behind you into the convenience store, taking in the sight of your short frame and pink scarf, dangling off your shoulder.

the doorbell of the CU rang, welcoming the pair. you dashed straight to the drinks aisle, scanning for cold, crisp water. sighing in relief as you chugged the water bottle.

"you gonna pay for that?" the store clerk joked, leaning against the register.

you shot him an annoyed look before glancing back at the woman you had just met a few minutes ago. her eyes scanning the instant food aisle, she picked up her usual cup of cheap seafood ramyun and studied the nutrition facts. her tired eyes indicates for a much needed caffeine boost.

"oh, i really like that flavor!.. tastes like home." you gasped, grinning from ear to ear, standing by her side. reaching over to grab a matching ramyun cup

she could easily feel your body heat and warmth radiating from you as you stood by her. no-eul kept the same stoic look she had in her face when she first looked at you. she wondered how you could be so calm after what had happened. you even offered to buy her a meal!

"thank you.." the woman muttered, her voice light, spinning the canned americano she picked up at the drink aisle on the counter.

"don't mention it, i should thank you! without your help.. i might've been dead by now." you tried to joke. no-eul felt a smile creeping up her face as she leaned deeper against the register, which was rare to see to people who might know her.

you paid for the meal and glared at the greasy store clerk, forcing a smile. you both take turns pouring hot water into your instant ramen cups before plopping yourself on the bar stool by the window. the bright, fluorescent neon sign illuminating the view infront of you.

no-eul sat next to you, her broad shoulders brushing against yours. you shivered at the feeling and you could feel her tense up at the interaction.

"i'm glad you're okay." she said, almost inaudibly.

no-eul could feel your eyes on her. she placed her hand on the rim of the ramyun cup, taking in the warmth.

you played with your nails, nodding. "i'm glad you're okay too, unnie.." your voice sweet and low.

you both sat in silence for a minute, waiting for the ramyun to cook and bathe in the hot water.

"how old are you?" she blurted out, unable to hold her tongue.

"s-sorry?"

no-eul grimaced. shutting her eyes.. she probably said that too bluntly. she quickly tried to salvage her question.

"oh, i.. um, wanted to know your age." she said, gently this time. "you.. seem rather young, to be out here alone at this time."

"ah~" you nodded in understanding, "well i just turned 26 a few weeks ago.."

26..?

26..

you were 4 years younger than her. a surge of protectiveness smothered no-eul.

"you're young.." she managed to breathe out with a faint smile, unable to get a better response out. her heart thumping in her chest.

"well? how old are you unnie?" you asked with a tinge of curiosity before a wave of realization hit you, "oh my, should i even be calling you that? i'm sorry!" you covered your mouth in embarrassment, scolding yourself on being too careless.

no-eul grinned at the question. she didn't mind you calling her unnie.

"i'm 30, 30-years-old. um.. i don't mind being called unnie." she nodded, looking at your reflection in the window.

she couldn't help but stare at your face. the way you nod your head and puff your cheeks in consensus, the way your face lit up as you realized the ramyun was ready, and how you stuck out your tongue, focusing on trying to split the wooden chopsticks in two.

you were too darn cute for her own good!

no-eul carefully opened her ramyun cup and broke her chopsticks, warm steam fusing with the cold air. she looked over to see you take your first bite before taking a nibble of the seafood ramyun herself.

between bites, the conversation flowed easily, lighthearted with airy laughter here and there. the world outside seemed far away as the pair chatted about everything and nothing— your lifelong dream of being an english teacher, no-eul's pet peeve of people chewing with their mouth open, your embarrassing phone addiction.. no-eul even brought up her past, how she defected from north korea. however, she left the mention of her daughter a story for another day.

she admired how easy you were to talk with, the tension between you two definitely melted away after about an hour of chatting your heads off. unbeknownst to you, heat crept up no-eul's face as the minutes passed by, getting to know you better. she was good at hiding it. however, you on the other hand, would blatantly blush and avert your gaze out of shyness here and there throughout the conversation.

"ugh, how am I going to get home.." she heard you complaining to yourself. your eyes flickered between the clock on your phone's lockscreen and the outside world. a gust of wind blew leaves that were scattered on the ground in all sorts of direction, you shiver at the sight.

"do you live around here?" she asked, taking a slow sip of her canned coffee. the ring on her thumb tapped against the metal with a soft clink. in the polished surface of the band, you caught a faint reflection of your own face.

you blushed at the sight of fine jewelry decorating her sleek hands. "yeah.. well i go to school at the university a few blocks down. i was going home for the day but got stopped by those loan sharks."

"..loan sharks?" no-euls eyes widened, shifting in her seat. how could someone like you be involved in something so.. dangerous?

you averted your gaze back to your half empty cup of noodles in shame. "well, yeah.. you know, when scholarships don’t cover enough, and part-time jobs barely pay for daily necessities, you start getting… creative with your options."

no-eul felt a pang of guilt and sorrow taking over. even though you both are polar opposites in terms of aesthetics, you were.. just like her.

"i think we're on the same boat." no-eul chuckled, her comment made you raise your eyebrows.

she continued hesitantly, "mm, my part-time job isn't the best.. the pay is shitty and well, you know.. co-workers." she hummed, no-eul was surprised she was able to open up to someone this easily. gosh, what were you doing to her?

you nodded in understanding, admiring the pretty woman in front of you. your heart softening slightly at the way she was able to ease your mind.

"i get you, unnie. sometimes i feel like i'm in my own bubble, i don't really have any real friends or family to be around with that i could pour my guts out to." your soft voice was like a symphony that seeps into the quiet spaces of no-eul's heart, tugging on her heartstrings.

no-eul was glad you both shared a gentle understanding for each other. the sweet smile on her face betrayed her cool, tough outer shell. she felt comforted and seen by you. that was all that matters to her at the moment.

"i'll probably just take the bus home.. i think i still have some credits in my flash card." you thought to yourself, chewing at the last chunk of soggy dried vegetables.

oddly enough, no-eul didn't want the night to end. it was probably due to her being deprived of human interaction, but she was certain she didn't want to leave without catching your name.

you were in the middle of packing your bags when you felt a cold hand reach for your forearm. turning your head, you caught no-eul's saddened eyes.

"when can i see you again?" she whispered softly, her voice rumbling in her throat. her touch lingered for a second longer.

your breath hitched, fixing your eyes on the change in no-eul's expression. is this the same stone cold, fierce woman i met just a few hours ago? you asked yourself. you smiled, your eyes crinkled at the softness that appeared in no-euls demeanor.

without a word, you reached into the pocket of your messenger bag, pulling out a pink glittery pen. you looked for something to write on before taking notice of the business card that peeked out of no-eul's jacket's right pocket.

without asking and knowing the origin of the business card, you snatched the piece of carton and scribbled your name and contact number on it over the cryptic unknown phone number that was inked into the card. doodling a heart next to your name before handing it to the freckled woman.

"if.. if you are in need of someone to talk to.. or a lunch buddy.. i'm one call away." your voice light and full of hope.

the hope no-eul needed in this cruel world. it took no-eul everything in her to hold her back from reaching over and pinching your cheeks.. you were too adorable and charming for someone like her!

no-eul's eyes lingered on the business card. once, to her, it had been nothing more than a plain, worn piece of brown cardboard—just another business card sent to her from her higher-ups. but now, with your name and number etched upon it with pink glittery ink, it felt different, it meant something to her.

she watched as you pivoted on your heel, heading towards the convenience store’s front door. you paused before it, your gaze flicking back to her. "i never caught your name, unnie."

no-eul pursed her lips into a thin line, before burying her hands into the pockets of her jacket, building up anticipation inside of you. "no-eul, kang no-eul."

you flashed her a toothy grin which made her heart fully explode, "no-eul.." you whispered, testing the name on your tongue, "..pretty."

oh.

no-eul went into full shut down mode at your compliment, her knees buckling, stomach churning.

what are you doing to me? she thought to herself.

you were oblivious to no-eul's breakdown, instead you gave her a small smile and wave before mouthing a cute little 'bye!' as you exit the convenience store into the night.

your name echoed through each and every nook and cranny in her mind, until it became the only thought in her head.

she couldn't wait for the next time her world would collide with yours again.

[ladamedusoif]

Laurels

(Acacius x F!Sex Worker Reader)

Pairing(s): Acacius x F!Reader; Acacius x Lucilla

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 13.5k

Summary: You met him as a young soldier, brought to the brothel you worked at to celebrate a victory. Now, almost two decades later, his return to Rome in triumph sparks memories of your time together - and the secrets you still hold.

Content Notes/Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MDNI - Sex worker F!Reader; no physical description of Reader except that she is curvy and has hair (but this can be taken as a wig, as was common in imperial Rome); spans events of Gladiator and parts of the sequel; canon-compliant but no spoilers for Gladiator II; we love and respect Lucilla in this house; Acacius is a lover boy; period-typical derogatory terms for sex workers; oral sex (M and F receiving); PiV sex; mutual masturbation; discussion of pregnancy; forbidden love; secret marriage; discussion of death and grief; implied character death; implied that Reader is more sexually experienced than Acacius when they meet; references to alcohol consumption; some uses of strong language

Author Note: I've been thinking about and sketching out this story since I first laid eyes on Acacius in those promotional pictures released during the summer, but wanted to wait until I'd had a chance to see Gladiator II three times before writing it up properly, to avoid any issues with characterisation. I hope you all enjoy it.

I've referred to him as Acacius throughout, as that's what Lucilla and everyone else calls him and because we have no goddamned idea what he's actually called. (I've used certain tags, though, to make sure people see this. Hopefully. Maybe.)

There are some Latin/Roman terms used throughout: lena is the madam or brothel keeper; cella is the part of a temple dedicated to a specific deity; meretrix is a Roman term for a prostitute; mercatus is a market or shopping area.

The cover image is entirely based on authentic Roman mosaics and interiors: top left is a 1st century CE mosaic; bottom right is a 4th century CE mosaic from Sicily of a sex worker with her client; and background is the interior decor of a bedroom in Pompeii.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Enormous thanks to @mescalpascal for beta reading this story.

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to stay up to date with my work.

The city has resonated to the sound of his name these past weeks. A hero of empire, of conquest; the perfect role model for Rome’s young boys, already being prepared from birth for war and glory. 

Or, more truthfully, for death. 

Today he returns to the city in glory, to be honoured with a triumph in recognition of his role in conquering the far-off lands of Northern Africa. The crowds are already thronging the streets, trying to secure their perfect vantage point to catch a glimpse of the victor en route to be crowned with laurels. 

No one notices an ordinary woman in middle age, simply but elegantly dressed in her best clothes for the occasion, discreetly slipping up the steps and onto the balcony of a tavern overlooking the triumphal route. No one pays a woman like that any mind, especially not on a day like today. 

You quietly secure your spot and slip down your veil, patting your hair to ensure the style is still in place. Why, exactly, did you go to such effort, knowing you’d be at such a distance from him? Knowing how many years it has been?

You take the cheap little metal effigy you’d purchased from a street hawker from your purse, gently rubbing your thumb over the crude rendering of his handsome face. 

You told him he would go far. You told him he would be feted like this, one day, all those years ago. You smiled as you imagined meeting him again, showing him the tiny metal version of himself. 

“See? I told you you’d be cast in bronze, didn’t I?”

A ripple of excitement courses through the crowd and it becomes apparent that the procession is near. They cheer and chant his name in unison. A mixture of excitement and fear grips you. Why had you done your hair just so, put on your best jewellery from your meagre selection?

Just in case. In case his dark eyes found yours, again, and bridged the years with a glance. 

The rumble of chariot wheels and horses’ hooves becomes more intense, the cheering of the crowd more frenzied. You grip the ledge of the balcony in nervous anticipation, the golden metal of your favourite ring glinting in the light. 

For a moment, it feels like being frozen in time. He is a god among men, the bright sun reflecting beautifully off the white and gold of his special, ceremonial armour as he receives the acclamations of the crowd. He’s uncomfortable, you can tell: that nervous wave and unsettled expression giving him away. This is not his natural environment, though you suspect he has had to get used to it since he assumed his command and since his marriage. 

You are unable to make a sound as his chariot approaches, overwhelmed by the sight of him, the sound of the crowd, the way he is received and acclaimed with more enthusiasm than any emperor you can remember. He is still beautiful . From here, you can see the streaks of grey that frame his handsome face now, making him even more distinguished than you remembered. His tanned skin only serves to make the white and gold armour gleam all the more. His beard, neatly trimmed, is more grey than dark these days, lending him an air of absolute authority. 

But you know that behind the guise of the conquering general, battle-scarred and triumphant, lies another man: strong but gentle, intelligent and kind, a man who likes to laugh and to joke and to love . 

She is a lucky woman, you muse. 

He’s almost directly in front of you now, and you can see in those soft, dark eyes the brave young man you knew so well, once upon a time. 

His gaze shifts. He finds you. 

His expression changes to one of surprise and… joy ?

The moment lasts barely a second before he has passed by in the relentless journey to his apotheosis. But you are left with his name on your lips, whispered like a prayer as your mind travels back through the years to the time you first met. 

“Acacius.”

***

War is shit. But it’s good for business when your business is your body. 

When you left your rural home for Rome as a teenager, accompanied by the man you were promised to, selling yourself was not part of the plan. But there’s little a girl can do, when her betrothed reveals himself to be a liar and a crook. He left you alone, without resource or recourse, when he was stabbed to death over an unpaid gambling debt. 

You had certainly landed on your feet, all things considered, and with the benefit of a few years’ hindsight. The lena who ran the place was kind and understanding, the other girls bright and friendly, for the most part, and the brothel itself marketed as a cut above the usual fare for the average legionary, brought to the imperial city after a stint killing Gauls or Goths or whoever the enemy was that week.

Besides, it was even fun , sometimes. You, with your curves and ample bosom, earned a reputation for kindness and understanding. Sometimes you wondered just how many nervous young men had learned how to please a woman from a night or two in your arms.

The night you met, the lena had gathered the free girls together in an excitable cluster, hissing about the arrival at the brothel of a group of young legionaries from various parts of the Empire.

“Some of them are absolutely gorgeous , girls! And they’ve had a recent victory - you know what that means.”

Catalina, who never lacked confidence, grinned. “It means big bonuses.”

The lena beamed. “Exactly. Big bonuses, big tippers… and who knows, maybe big in other ways?�� The girls roared with laughter as she clapped her hands. “Alright, neaten up! Best behaviour, now. And as usual with the legions, you’re theirs for the night.”

You picked up a goblet of wine, and you and your fellow whores struck your usual enticing poses. 

“Heroes of Rome…my finest girls, for your delectation.” 

***

His eyes find yours through the slew of pairings, dark as pitch but warm as fire in the low light of the brothel’s main antechamber. He is, as your lena had suggested, gorgeous : young, beautifully handsome features, clean-shaven; the strong nose and fine jaw universally considered the epitome of male beauty, wavy dark hair curling around his brow in his neat, regulation haircut. 

And then he smiles at you. And you are lost, entirely, in the way his eyes sparkle and his open, kind face beams.

The beautiful boy would surely choose one of the more beautiful girls, as was always the way. But instead he strides through the melee, broad shoulders cutting a path with ease, and stands in front of you, a soft, nervous smile on his face. 

“Hello, soldier. Where are you from?”

His eyes are warm . He seems kind. You feel a wave of lust coursing through you: if he wants you, you thought, you might really enjoy this one.

“Hispania,” he answers. “But we were fighting tribes in Germania.”

His voice, like warm honey, sends a throb through your core. 

“And you have been rewarded with a trip to the imperial city! You must have been really brave.”

He chuckles, a half-smile on his handsome, tanned face. “I tried to be.”

His nerves are apparent in the way he carries himself, in the little glances he gives you, seeking approval. You take his hand, thumb stroking his palm gently.

“Do you want to let me reward you tonight, soldier?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Please.” He gives your hand a little squeeze. “But tell me your name, won’t you? I would like to know your name.”

You tell him with a smile. “And yours?”

His grin is warm and genuine. “Acacius.”

***

The yellow glow of the oil lamps illuminate the murals that decorate the walls of your chamber, and throw shadows from the fabrics draped over the low couch and bed. Acacius looks around, unsure where to sit, and you gesture to the couch.

“Wine, soldier?”

“Yes, wine. Please. Thank you.”

Goblets in hand, you join him and lean slightly towards him. It is impossible to miss the way Acacius’s eyes focus on your breasts, barely covered in the diaphanous folds of your pale, loose robe. 

“Do you like what you see?”

His gaze trails upwards to your eyes, and he nods: seriously, with absolute conviction. 

“Do you want to see more?” 

Another serious nod. You slip out of the dress for him, letting the thin, pleated fabric loosen around you until you are revealed, naked and soft, for his hungry eyes. 

One strong arm wraps around your waist while the other fondles handfuls of your tits. He holds you there, mouth finding your nipples, sucking and licking them until they are pert and pebbled and glossy with his saliva. 

In that instant, you close your eyes, daring to imagine that this was not a transaction but real : that the gorgeous young man worshipping at your bosom is your lover, all yours , helping himself to every inch of you before he takes you. 

 “What do you like , soldier? What do you want me to do to you?” You move to your knees before him, putting your hands on his strong, tanned thighs and lightly slipping your fingers under the hem of his short tunica .

He hesitates, breath hitching, eyes wide as he takes in the sight of you between his legs. This isn’t his first time, you suspect, but something tells you Acacius may not be as practiced as some of his comrades in the art of love. The thought of showing him, guiding him, sends a thrill through you. 

Your hands undo his undergarment and find his cock. He stammers, trying to find his words to respond. 

“Would you like my mouth, hmmm?”

He nods, eyes trained on you, mouth open as you lick your lips and wrap them around the head of his cock. You move slowly, expertly; one hand holding him in place while the other caresses his balls, the way you know men like. 

It’s not that you were forced into the profession, not like some of the girls sold into it - though Juno knows, you’d have preferred another line of work. But there, in the lamp-lit room with this big, handsome, polite young soldier falling apart at your skilled touch? It’s a fucking joy . 

He whines and gasps as you vary the speed and movement, tongue flicking over his tip before you swallow him back down again. Acacius’s broad hand holds the back of your head as you move faster, taking him deeper. You feel his balls tighten as he falls back on the low couch, moaning and grunting with pleasure. 

“I’m…oh fuck , I’m close, I’m….”

He comes in your mouth with a cry, head thrown back on the couch and beads of sweat glistening along his neck, broad chest rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath.

A discreet spit and wipe and you tuck your naked curves against his spent body, fingertips slipping under the collar of his tunic to trace the line of his shoulders, the hollow of his throat.

He blinks his ebony-dark eyes open, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His exposed cock still glistens with your saliva and his come. “I didn’t mean to finish so quickly. I’m…I’m still dressed .” He grins, you giggle, and both of you burst out laughing. 

“No need to apologise, soldier. We have plenty of time, time enough to go again, surely. I’ll help.” You rise from the couch and gesture for him to follow you to the bed. 

“First things first - tunic off .”

You survey him now, naked, from your position on the bed. His body is taut and lean; too lean, perhaps, for his broad shoulders and long limbs. A few scars and bruises on his torso testify to his experiences in combat.

“Join me, won’t you?”

He settles close to your own naked form and his eyes move to your tits, pressed against the warm skin of his arm. You reach for his hand and bring the broad, calloused palm and fingertips to cup your breast.

You never forgot the fascination he seemed to have with your body. That first night, he traces the curve of your tits carefully with his fingers, playing a little with your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh before caressing every bit of you in turn. The softness of your belly, the meat of your thick thighs and ass, the line of your hips, the flesh of your arms and neck. 

Perhaps, you think, it has been a long time since he’s been with someone. Properly, that is. Perhaps his previous encounters were a more rushed affair, skirts hitched up to fuck hastily against a wall or a tree. 

Now he can take his time with you. Wetness pools between your legs, anticipating him. You bring his hand to your pussy, guiding him to the little nub of pleasure hidden in your folds as you ride his fingers.

“You feel that?” He nods, transfixed by the way your hips roll against him, the way you pant and moan as you get closer and closer to your peak. “Find this sweet spot on a woman, and she’s all yours.”

He’s getting hard again, you notice, and starts to work you more quickly with his thick fingers. He looks to you for approval, warm eyes round and earnest, and you praise him with breathless words before coming undone on his hand.

“ Gods , that was very good, soldier.” A few strokes of your hand to his cock, and you know he’s ready. “Your turn, now.”

Acacius shifts his broad body on top of yours, using one knee to push you open a little further for him. As he breaches your pussy for the first time, he leans forward and kisses you: slow, soft, tongue slipping between your lips as you hitch your knees up and wrap your arms around his neck. 

The young Spaniard fucks you deep and slow, his plush lips brushing against yours as his kisses mingle with both of your grunts and moans of pleasure. Such a display of tenderness is unusual here, where most men have one thing and one thing only on their minds as soon as they enter your chamber. 

There have been plenty of young soldiers, plenty of officers, plenty of Rome’s heroes in your arms, in your mouth, in your cunt. Some handsome. Most not. Some respectful. Most rough.

Acacius is…different. You couldn’t explain it, not back then. Not yet. But you know in that instant, as he moves inside you and you look into his dark eyes, that there is something special about this man.

***

He comes to you every second or third night for the remainder of his furlough in the city, to the point that the lena begins to refer to Acacius as “your soldier”. You, privately, miss him on those nights that he does not visit. 

He brings you gifts: wine, flowers, little cakes and sweets wrapped in pretty cloth. “You’ll have spent all your coin,” you chide him as you sit together on the couch, drinking wine and feeding each other the treats. “What will you say, if someone asks about the money you earned on campaign?”

Acacius leans in and plots a course of kisses down your neck, culminating at the fastening of your robe on your shoulder. He unpins the brooch and watches the fabric fall with a smile.

“I will say that it was money very well spent.”

***

The lena ’s knock on your chamber door is unusually early that day - not yet noon, you estimate, as you hastily finish pinning your hair and stand to receive her.

She smiles wryly as she leans against the doorframe. “You have a visitor .”

“This early?”

“Might I remind you that I determine the opening times of this house? Yes, this early, but…he wants to take you out .” She throws up her hands in response to your confused expression. “I know, I know, but you’re paid for! Put on something respectable, I doubt he wants you to look like a whore in public.”

You dress suitably, and fix your cloak around you before emerging into the large antechamber normally reserved for meeting clients. This morning, it is silent and empty, save for a lone figure standing with his back to you in the centre of the airy room.

He was a little broader, now, than he’d been the last time you saw him, eight or nine months ago. His arms and legs had grown more muscular, his garments evidently more expensive than the simple woollen tunic and cloak he wore the first time you met.

“Acacius?” 

He wheels around and that familiar smile greets you like a beam of warm spring sunlight after the long winter. After a close embrace and a kiss, he stands back to take you in.

“How have you become more beautiful since the last time I saw you?”

You shake your head and laugh, cupping his face in your hands and rubbing your thumbs against the bristling scruff he now wears. “And you seem even more handsome and dashing, soldier. You look like the emperor now, too, with this beard.”

Acacius blushes bashfully. “Perhaps…in truth, it was my commander that inspired it, as he favours a beard too.” He smiles and winks conspiratorially. “But then maybe he wishes to resemble Aurelius, no?”

With a smile you lead him back into the main hall of the brothel and towards the door that opens onto the street. “The lena tells me you wish to take me with you into the city today.”

He offers a little bow in confirmation. “I do. I would like to walk with you, away from these four walls.” A glance over his shoulder in the direction of the lena sitting at her desk, whose all-seeing, eagle-eyed gaze bores into the two of you. He speaks a little louder, for her benefit. “And I have promised to bring you back.”

He gives you his hand, you open the door, and together you step into the bustle of the imperial city.

***

“Am I correct in thinking that isn’t a native Roman accent?”

You nod, looking at Acacius from under your lashes. “It is not. I am a country girl by birth, from a farm in the north.”

He smiles with satisfaction. “I have an ear for accents. Hard not to, when you fight for an empire as vast as ours. How did you end up here, then?”

It is as if he is speaking to a… normal woman, not a whore. You swallow hard, looking at the ground as you compose yourself to answer, not wanting to sully your relationship with this man with the painful memories of the past. 

“I…was promised to a man, and he brought me to Rome. But he lied, and he cheated, and he died over an unpaid debt, and I…”

Acacius holds you in his kind, concerned gaze as your words trail off. Enough , you muse to yourself, I have said enough . 

“And you…had to stand on your own two feet.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze that feels as comforting, somehow, as if it were his warm embrace.

In the mercatus adjoining the new forum, he buys little cups of wine and a jar of olives for you to share as you walk together through the packed marketplace and public squares. The tall column honouring the victories of the emperor Trajan casts its long shadow on the gleaming marble pavements below.

“Perhaps some day they will build a monument to you,” you suggest, a wry smile on your lips. “A great bronze, to the great warrior Acacius.”

He raises his eyebrows in astonishment and laughs. “A monument to an ordinary centurion? I don’t think so, somehow. Now, a statue of my commander , on the other hand, would be entirely more likely and more fitting.”

“You admire him, don’t you?”

Acacius sips his wine and nods. “He is the greatest of commanders and the bravest of men. Kind, too, away from the battlefield. I… I would die for that man.” He turns to you and grins, excited. “Have I told you that he is from Hispania, too? He tells me sometimes that we’re the finest fighters in the empire.”

You give an impressed little coo. “Have I seen this great man? Perhaps he was with the rest of you, that first night…the night we met.”

“He was not.” He takes an olive from the little clay jar, a wistful look on his face. “General Maximus has a family - a wife, a little boy - and such love he has for them as I’ve never seen. He is the emperor’s most loyal general, but in truth he would give anything to return home to them, for good.”

The two of you fall silent for a few moments, each lost in your own thoughts. You study his handsome features as you walk together: his strong, proud nose, now marked with a fresh, livid scar; his fine brow, knitted in thought; the line of his pink mouth, framed by his dark beard.

“Is that something you would like, too - a wife, a family?”

He nods and smiles as he meets your gaze. “It is something I would like very much indeed.”

***

You think of him, worry for him, miss him in the long months of campaigning in far-flung corners of the empire. Without realising, you have become part of an invisible sisterhood: yet another daughter of Rome who goes about her business and makes her living, but whose heart and mind march, always, with “her” soldier. For the first time, you really see the careworn women carrying offerings and lighting candles at the little street shrines or in the temples, muttering prayers to Juno for the safe return of a husband, a lover, a brother, a son. 

You try to listen daily for updates from the newsreaders in the public fora, steeling yourself for news of a defeat. Even your work provides opportunities to stay abreast of the progress of the northern legions, as you hone your small talk with clients to focus on questions of war. Though other men might have your body for a short time, your soul is always and only with him , longing for the day he’ll be in your arms again.

He’s gone longer, this time. In your lonelier moments you wonder if perhaps he has met someone else, someone with whom he can have the family life he dreams of. 

He is not yours , you remind yourself as you make up your face for another night’s work. He can never be yours .

A commotion coming from the direction of the entrance hall startles you: strong, confident footsteps on the marble floor; the lena ’s voice calling angrily after someone; and suddenly, a knock on your chamber door. 

“My sweet, beautiful lady.”

Acacius sweeps you into his strong arms before you have finished opening the door properly, pulling you tight to him and covering your face with kisses as you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle with joy and relief at the sight of him.

“Your soldier hasn’t paid, girl!”

The lena ’s irritation is obvious even from the other end of the hall, her arms folded and jaw set. You break Acacius’s embrace and reach for his hand to guide him into the room.

“He’ll pay, don’t worry,” you call out to her down the hallway. “He’s been away fighting for a long time and he deserves his reward, one can hardly blame the man for being impatient!” 

He’s waiting for you as soon as you close the door, cloak discarded and body poised to pin you against the wall as he holds your face in his hands and leans in for a long, slow kiss. He drops one hand and you feel your garment being lifted as his thick fingers make their way between your thighs.

“Gods, I missed you. I’m so sorry I was away for so long.” He sucks on the delicate skin of your neck as you whine with pleasure, his fingertips finding the little nub of your pussy, just like you taught him. “Did you miss me, my love?”

“Mmm, I… oh, Acacius !” First one, then two fingers slip inside you, and you struggle to form a coherent thought. “I missed you, so very much, so much.”

He fucks you with his fingers there against the wall, the sound of your wetness both lewd and erotic as it mingles with your pants and little moans. He’s still in uniform , you realise, wrapping your arm around his leather-clad torso as you pull him tighter to you. Gods, he really couldn’t wait to see you. 

“I need to have you here, now,” he hisses in your ear as you edge closer to your peak. “Need to be inside you, feel you again.”

He withdraws his hand and turns you to face the wall, bending your body forward a little and caressing your ass appreciatively. The head of his cock presses against your entrance, opening and stretching you as he slides smoothly into your cunt with a low groan.

“As good as you remember?” You turn to give him a sly look as he starts to fuck you, deep and hard.

“ Better ,” he hisses. A broad hand reaches for your breast while the other grips the meat of your hip, holding you in place. “Been thinking about this, about you …every day, every night …”

His beard bristles against your skin as he angles his lips against your neck and shoulder, sucking and kissing and nipping at you. He’ll leave marks, you know that, and you know you shouldn’t let him, not in your line of work. But instead you just twine your fingers through his dark curls and keep him there, revelling in the sensation as you start to fall apart for him. 

Acacius mutters praise and filth into your ear in equal measure: how beautiful you are, how good you feel, how tight your cunt is, how well you take him. The fastenings and metal ornaments of his uniform press into your flesh as he fucks you harder and faster against the wall.

You shouldn’t have let him leave marks on you. And you definitely shouldn’t let him finish inside you. But, more than anything else, you want him to make you his, really and truly, inside and out. As his rhythm starts to falter, a slight arch of your back and an extra tilt of your hips sends him even deeper and makes him come. His groans of ecstatic pleasure as he fills you with his seed are music to your ears.

***

You bathe together in the brothel’s small, steamy bathhouse, your fingers tracing the scars and bruises his strong, solid body had acquired since the last time you were together. Acacius hums with pleasure as you wash his hair and rub perfumed oil into his skin, pressing your lips gently to every mark and freckle.

“I love you, you know.” 

Strange, how this impressive warrior could become so vulnerable as he says the words: eyes wide, expression open and hopeful, as he reaches for your hand and kisses your palm with tender reverence.

“I love you, too.”

***

Dawn breaks over the city and the early morning light reaches through your small, high window. The night was sleepless and perfect: lovemaking punctuated by conversation, by fruits and wine, and culminating in your two bodies wrapped naked around each other in your bed.

Acacius kisses you awake, smiling as your eyes blink sleepily open.

“My love is tired, I think.”

You arch an eyebrow and smirk suggestively. “Gods, I wonder why ?”

As you cuddle against his broad chest, you spy a leather coin purse resting on the table beside the bed. The sight pierces your soft, loving cocoon like an arrow to the heart.

He pays for you. 

Before you can second-guess yourself, you speak. “You don’t have to pay any more. Unless you would rather continue to buy me…”

His expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What do you mean?”

“You pay for me, but you love me and I love you and…It was different before, but now I think our love shouldn’t be bought .”

Acacius smiles and pulls you to him, kissing your forehead. “I know, my love. And I agree, but… Don’t you think your lena would be suspicious, if I stopped paying?”

“She only gets a cut, either way.” A thought occurs to you. “Perhaps we just give her the cut she’d get anyway, for appearances’ sake? And I’ll tell her you gave the rest to me directly.”

He nods, reaching for you again and holding you close against him. 

“Perhaps you won’t need to worry about the lena at all, any more.”

It’s your turn to be confused as you pull back a little and look in his eyes. 

“I was going to ask you anyway, I’ve been thinking about this all the time I was away… I wonder, would you be - would you consider being - my wife?”

“I could pay off any debt you owe to the lena, to this place.” He hastens to reassure you, seeing the look of shock on your face. “And I have money enough to buy us a beautiful home, some land… I have been promoted again, since I saw you last, and now we have some time together until the next campaign, we…we could marry, be together. Husband and wife. What do you say?”

Your heart says yes. Yes. Forever and always, yes , thank Juno and all the gods that brought this beautiful man to you. 

But hearts don’t make the rules in Rome.

You kiss him gently, twine your fingers through his, caress the dark curls that frame his handsome face. “I would give anything to be your wife.”

He smiles sadly. “But?”

“We can’t . Even if I left this world behind for good, I still wouldn’t be allowed to marry, and -”

“I have known men whose wives were once meretrices , it’s not always so strict,” Acacius interjects.

“Were these men imperial officers with a bright future ahead of them?” you ask, as kindly as you can. “At best, I could be a mistress.”

He frowns and shakes his head. “I don’t have to be an officer forever. I don’t want to do this forever, to wage war forever. So I’ll give it up, find another occupation, use my savings…I just want you , my love.”

His thumb wipes away the tears glistening on your face as you fight the sob rising in your throat. “I want you too, I love you too, but…you are under oath, under contract, are you not? They would come after you if you broke it, I would rather die than see you hurt on my account.”

Those beautiful dark eyes are resigned now, full of pain and all too aware that there is no way for this dream to become a reality. Acacius puts his arms around you and holds you tight to his chest, silently kissing the top of your head.

When he leaves you a couple of hours later, to attend to business elsewhere in the city, you turn over and weep, sure that you will never see him again.

***

Catalina knocks on your chamber door a couple of days later, anxiously looking around her, as if afraid she might be seen.

“I don’t think there’s a rule against visiting each other in our rooms, you know.”

“Can’t be too careful, now, can we?” She lowers her voice and beckons for you to come closer. “I’ve been given a message for you. From your soldier boy.”

You move quickly to sit on the couch, afraid that your legs might give way. “He…he came to you ?”

Catalina laughs a little too loudly, and claps her hand to her mouth. “No, he did not - sent one of the other legionaries to me, just so he could get word to you. Well, not just that, we did have a good time, me and young Sextus…” A knowing smile spreads across her face.

“The message . What was the message?”

She snaps out of her reverie and sits beside you. “Tomorrow, noon. The big temple on the Capitoline, at Juno’s cella .”

You nod, taking in the information and already plotting your excuse for the lena . “Catalina, why didn’t he come directly to me?”

“Apparently he was afraid you wouldn’t see him. He’s got it bad for you, according to his pal.” She turns and pulls you into a warm hug, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Good luck. I’ll make an offering for you.”

***

He’s already there when you arrive, standing at the entrance to the main cella and dressed simply but beautifully in a tunic, belt, and dark green cloak that only serves to emphasise his strong, broad build. You cross the marble floor to join him and he immediately reaches for your hand.

“I am so glad to see you, my love.”

You smile and squeeze his hand. “But why here?”

“I wanted to talk to you, and I needed courage - so I have made some offerings to the goddess.” Acacius nods towards the doors that lead to the cella of Juno, where priests busied themselves with candles, incense, and laying worshippers’ offerings on the goddess’s altar. “I hope she looks favourably upon me.”

“And me,” you add, and he grins. “Come, tell me. What is it that is so important?”

He leads you away from the cella and guides you through the throngs of people making their way to the great temple until you reach a quieter spot under a small portico.

“I meant what I asked you. I want to marry you, more than anything. I know, too, that the rules of this empire won’t allow it.” He takes both of your hands in his. “But I wondered if we could make our own rules.”

“Our own rules?”

He reaches into the leather purse hanging from his belt, and produces a small gold ring set with a polished garnet stone. 

“If we cannot marry by law, then perhaps we might marry in spirit.” He places the ring in your palm, wrapping his hand around yours.

The bustle of the city fades far into the distance. In that moment, it is just you and him.

“You wish this, even though I cannot tend your home, be a real wife to you? In spite of my… work ?”

Acacius nods, hand still cupped around yours. “You will be a real wife, in all the ways that matter to me. And in time I will find a way for us to make a home together.” He looks into your eyes and smiles that hopeful smile you love so much. “And, perhaps, to raise our children there.”

“My work, Acacius. I would still be doing…what I do, at least until then. This does not concern you?”

He shakes his head. “It is a profession, it is not you, no matter what the law says. You do not mind that I fight and kill for a living, this is no different.”

You laugh and shake your head. “I don’t mind, but you are fighting for Rome , for an empire, not…selling yourself.”

“It is a profession .” Acacius reassures you, kissing you on the cheek. “And it is not forever.” He holds up the ring to you again. 

Your smile and nod is his cue to slip the gold band onto your finger, leaning in for a deep kiss as he pulls you tight to him and whispers in your ear.

“I am yours .”

A passing temple worshipper tuts loudly at the public display of affection, and you giggle. 

“And by Juno, I am all yours.”

***

The wedding feast, such as it is, is wine and sweetmeats purchased from a street vendor and consumed, picnic-style, in a quiet, secluded grove of trees near the river. He spreads his cloak on the ground, helps you down, and lays out the food before toasting you with the cup of wine he pours from a wineskin.

“You deserve a far greater feast than this, beloved.”

“This is already far more than I could ever have hoped for, my love.” You lean in and kiss him gently. “I only wish I could be a wife to you in the eyes of the law, too.”

Acacius shakes his head and strokes your cheek. “You are all I need, just as you are. Hang the law; I will find a way for us to live as man and wife. I promise.”

The dappled sunlight catches the garnet of your ring and you hold your hand up, delighted.

“It pleases you?”

“Very, very much.” You rest your head on his shoulder, both content in the quiet. Such pleasure, you think, to be here, with him - your husband , in spirit if not in law - away from the brothel, from the noise and the lena ’s eagle eye.

His hand drifts gently down your bare arm and along the line of your thigh as his lips find yours again. At your ankle, his thick fingers slip under the hem of your dress, hitching it up as his palm caresses your calf, your knee, and starts to plot a course towards your pussy.

“In public , husband?”

Acacius sighs happily at the word, encouraging you to lie back on the cloak as he moves himself between your open thighs. “There’s no one around, wife .” The bristle of his beard scratches at your neck as he nips and sucks at you, fingers already parting the lips of your cunt. “Aren’t couples supposed to consummate their marriage?”

You chuckle and writhe under his broad body as he pushes one, then two fingers into you. “Arguably we consummated this some time ago, my love,” you hiss, reaching under his tunic to undo the undergarment and stroke his cock. He whines with pleasure and fucks you a little faster as his thumb traces tight circles over that most sensitive, intimate place, smiling as you buck against him. 

“What did you tell me, that first night? Find this sweet spot and she’ll be all mine?”

“All yours.” Gods , you’re close. “And I am…I am all yours.”

You come almost as soon as his thick cock pushes inside you, unable to contain the cries of pleasure. You give no thought or care to the possibility of being discovered here, of a passerby witnessing your lovemaking. 

Let them see , you muse, as he fucks you hard and deep, fondling your tits through the fabric of your garment. Let them see how he takes me, fills me; how a man makes love to his new wife.

***

He comes to you every night, then, maintaining the fiction of a transactional relationship by having you give the lena her dues directly. She raised an eyebrow sceptically when you first explained the situation, but money is money, and if she suspects anything she does not let on.

In your chamber, you can almost pretend you are a normal couple. You dine together, bathe together, talk together. As he recounts his experiences with his legion, you realise the extent of his unassuming heroism and his nobility. Unlike many of the other soldiers you have encountered in this work, Acacius has a real sense of the human cost of war, of the humanity involved, whether Roman or barbarian. 

“It is no wonder General Maximus has sought to promote you, my love,” you tell him one evening as you pour him another goblet of wine. “You are clearly a great leader, as well as a great fighter.”

“He has trained me well.” He sips his wine and looks bashfully at the floor. “He does not seek to waste good men like some of the other commanders; he knows the value of their lives. And we look up to him, admire him, for that.”

Your private connubial bliss must, of course, play second fiddle to the demands of the empire. One night, he arrives with a dejected air, explaining sorrowfully and apologetically that his legion is returning to the northern campaign immediately - far sooner than he had anticipated. 

“I thought we had more time, my love. I am so sorry.” 

You smile, shake your head, and kiss him. “We will have plenty of time to come.”

That night, the last night together before fate would make her intervention and change the course of your lives, Acacius is content simply to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him as he sleeps.

***

The emperor is dead, and the city mourns. In the public squares and fora the newsreaders proclaim that Marcus Aurelius, philosopher-emperor, has died on campaign with the armies of the north, and succession passed to his heir, Commodus.

The armies of the north . Your thoughts turn, as they so often do, to Acacius. His commander was close to the old emperor, you remember, and the heir had a rather more difficult reputation. You walk back to the brothel and imagine your love, clad in the fur-trimmed woollen cloak worn on campaign in the north, willing your love and strength to him across the many miles.

Emperors come and emperors go, but life goes on. A months-long series of gladiatorial games is announced, to mark the death of Aurelius and the accession of his son. The lena cheers when she hears the news, knowing that the attendant surge in visitors to the city means a boost for her business. 

You keep abreast of political and military developments, as usual, via the more informed and talkative of your clients. Severus, a senior aide to one of Rome’s senators, is always happy to oblige.

“Quite the news from the north,” he says one evening, as you help him unwrap his heavy outer toga. 

“Is that so?” Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you steady yourself on the table before pouring him a goblet of wine. “Sit, tell me.”

“A traitor general , if you’ll credit it!” He sips the wine and shakes his head in astonishment. “Cursed the new emperor, took off and left his men. They think he went south, to his homeland. A Spaniard, you know.”

Your breath catches.

“Do you - do you know the name?”

Severus chews the inside of his cheek momentarily. “Marcus? No, that’s not it, it’s…Maximus. Maximus Decimus Meridius. One of Aurelius’s best men, they say, but off he went, revealed as a traitor.” 

He puts a hand on your thigh and leans in to kiss your neck, ignorant of the stunned, horrified look on your face as you try to process this information. He does not seem to notice or care that you barely react. You move into position on the bed unthinkingly, letting him strip you and bend you over so that he can fuck you the way he likes. 

You barely hear his grunts and moans, barely feel it when he pulls out and spills his come on your back. He says something to you before he leaves, but his words are a discordant buzz. Curled up on your bed, your mind races into the small hours until you drift into a fitful sleep.

***

The weeks pass, the games begin, and the blood of men and beasts stains the sandy ground of the Colosseum day after day. The new emperor, out for blood and driven mad with power, seems to want to undo the work of his father with each passing day, starting by crippling the senate.

Information about the fate of Maximus’s legions is scant and often contradictory. Some say that a new commander has been appointed and that the campaign continues, as usual. Others tell of a mutiny in the ranks, of infighting and chaos. Still more swear that the legions will come south and unite in Rome.

“He’ll come and find you, I know he will,” Catalina whispers to you as she passes in the hallway one morning. “Don’t give up. He’ll come.”

The not knowing is unbearable. You make daily offerings at the little shrines and altars in the streets, praying that you might, at least, discover Acacius’s fate for good or ill. 

As you pass a butcher’s shop, you overhear a familiar name, and stop in your tracks to listen as the butcher and his assistant regale their customers with the story of the great general who has become a gladiator.

***

“Where are you off to?”

The lena eyes you up and down in the entrance hall, arms folded across her chest.

“I’m going out for some air and to buy some little cakes, for tonight. We’ve got a while before today’s games are over, I want to take advantage of it.”

“Fair enough. Be back in plenty of time, mind, we want you all fresh and perfumed and powdered!”

You navigate the packed streets, stopping at the baker’s shop to buy a selection of the tiny fruit and honey cakes you like to have in your chamber, before turning back in the direction of the brothel. Your route is a little quieter and you know it by heart, making use of side streets and alleys to avoid the crowds.

You do not notice the hooded man standing in one of the doorways until he steps out in front of you. The parcel of cakes falls to the ground as you cry out with fright, and the man immediately kneels to retrieve it. His fingers caress the back of your hand, and in an instant, you know him.

“You came back to me, my love.”

Acacius lowers his hood slightly, eyes sparkling but alert to his surroundings, and takes your free hand in his, kissing it repeatedly. “Of course, my beloved. I have been trying to come home to you for a while, but given…” He pauses as he searches for the right word. “Given everything , it has taken a little longer than I’d hoped.”

He keeps his hood up as you open the door into the brothel, pulling you back to whisper in your ear. “I’d rather it not be known that I’m here, my love. Not tonight. Here, take this purse, tell the lena I’m a foreign visitor.”

You don’t ask for an explanation. He follows you inside, hanging back in the entrance hallway as you tell the lena that this gentleman approached you in the street and wanted to spend the night.

“He’s a quiet one.” She surveys Acacius suspiciously, and you pray she does not recognise his broad frame.

“He’s nervous, is all,” you suggest, as lightly as you can manage. “First time in the big city, he’s come from a long way off. Best make it a special night, eh?” 

She sighs, nods, and counts the coins as you lead the way to your chamber.

***

“I can explain everything, my love, or at least as much as I’m permitted to say.” Acacius takes off his cloak and settles on your couch, pulling you to him. You press your fingers to his lips.

“After. Explain after.”

The lamps and candles cast a soft glow on the contours of your body as you slip out of your dress and gently sit on his lap, tracing the lines of his features with your fingertips as you kiss his face, featherlight. 

“I hope I’m not too heavy for you, love.” 

He smiles and shakes his head, mouth a little ajar as he takes in the sight of you. “You are perfect.” He tilts his head and sucks on each of your nipples, holding you in place around the waist, as your hand slips under his tunic. A shift of your hips and you are straddling one leg, rocking your hips back and forth against his strong thigh, gasping at the sensation as your cunt grazes against the warm skin, soft hair, and firm muscle.

He watches you, enthralled, one hand resting on your ass and the other squeezing your tits. You hold his gaze, then, caught in the dark fire of his beautiful eyes as you reach your peak and come hard on him, head thrown back and body quivering with pleasure.

“Gods, you are extraordinary.” He helps you stand up and guides you to the bed, tucking a pillow under your head before he strips off and joins you. “My extraordinary woman, I have missed you so.”

His beard scratches against your skin as he kisses your body, moving from your tits down to your soft belly and generous thighs. His lips press against your mound, your pussy, tongue diving into the slick that’s pooled between your legs. 

“You taste spectacular,” he murmurs, shifting forward. He kisses you, deep and slow, so that you can taste yourself as he pushes his cock inside you.

“See?”

You giggle as he begins to fuck you, pulling in and out slowly and deliberately, making sure you feel every inch of him and he every inch of you. 

The worries and uncertainty fade as you make love, bodies moving in perfect harmony, mingled voices gasping and moaning with pleasure, and sweat glistening on your skin. 

After . Explain after.

***

“There are legions at Ostia.”

You pop one of the little cakes into his mouth and settle against his shoulder. Ostia . You like the way he pronounces it, the inflection of his accent.

“Legions?”

He looks at you cautiously. “Legions.” His face tells you he cannot say more, and you fill in the blanks for yourself.

His legion. Maximus’s legions?

“And you rode into the city on…business?”

He nods and reaches for the cup of lemon water on the bedside table. “Business, yes. In preparation for the games to come.”

“Can you stay tonight, or must you return to…?” You daren’t name the place.

“I can stay tonight, but must leave at first light.” He puts his arm around you and lowers his voice. “My love, there may be some trouble in the days to come. I will come for you as soon as I can, but…be warned. Be ready.”

He speaks with such grave sincerity that you immediately understand the stakes involved. “I will be ready, love.”

***

The commotion outside in the streets brings you and the rest of the girls into the main antechamber, wondering what on earth is going on to cause such tumult. There is no sign of the lena , though her ledger and pen have been left in their usual places on her little table. 

Althea runs a finger along the edge of the scroll and emits a low whistle. “You don’t think she’s done a runner, do you?”

Catalina shakes her head. “She wouldn’t leave the ledger behind. Or, for that matter” - she gestures to a little box discreetly tucked between a pillar and the wall - “her petty cash.”

The sound of the main door opening hushes the gathering, and the lena strides purposefully into the room.

“Suppose you’re all wondering what’s going on, hmmm? Well, ladies, looks like we’ve got another dead emperor. No-one seems to be mourning that lunatic, though, unlike his father…Anyway!” She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes in exasperation as she seats herself at the table. “Just another ordinary, quiet day in Rome.”

You and the other girls cluster around the lena , asking question upon question as you vie for information. With a roar, she silences you again.

“All’s I know is this - he died in the arena, and it was that Merciful Maximus or Maximus the Merciful or whatever in Hades’ name they call that gladiator who did it. Commodus challenged him to a duel, didn’t he?” She sucks her teeth. “Not the brightest, that one.”

“Maximus?” Your voice cuts through the gasps and mutterings of the other girls. “Maximus defeated the emperor?”

The legions. This is why they were at Ostia, to overthrow the emperor and restore the senate. You wonder if Acacius has already entered the city - indeed, if he was there to witness the fight.

“He did,” the lena sighs. “Fat lot of good it did him, he’s dead now, too. Right! Back to your chambers, we might get a few boys in festive mood now that Commodus is gone.”

Your stomach churns as you walk silently down the hallway and back to your room. If Maximus’s legions had massed at Ostia to march on the city, and were already on the move, who knew what fate awaited them now that the general was dead, leaving a power vacuum at the very top of Rome? Or perhaps, you reason with yourself, the senate will work quickly to restore order, and will not punish the legionaries who were ready to stage a coup. After all, it was the senate they were fighting for.

One way or another, tomorrow you will begin the search for Acacius.

***

Trade was as dead as the emperor that night, much to your relief. In the early hours, you lie awake and stare at the painted ceiling, thinking over and over about the places he might be and where you should start. Sleep, eventually, finds you.

You dream that he has come to you, that he is calling you by name, over and over, shaking you by the arm until you respond.

“Please, my love, wake up.”

No dream at all. He is there, real and whole, sitting on the side of your bed. His handsome face is marked with dirt and grime, hands and knees grubby, as if he has come fresh from a long journey on horseback. 

You sit up and reach for his hand. “Acacius…husband. You’re alive, you’re safe.”

He nods in response, until he buries his face in his hands and leans forward, head between his legs, and gives a devastated, feral roar the likes of which you’ve never heard before. You tentatively move beside him, fingers working to undo his cuirass so that you can rub his back through the thin fabric of his tunic. His big, strong body shakes with fury and hurt under your gentle caress. 

Neither of you speak for some time. You try to ground and console him with your touch, your closeness; and in time his rapid breathing slows and he raises his head to speak.

“I would have come sooner.” His voice is low and croaky, worn out by a day of shouting. “I would have come…I had to help them, had to get the boy away, get him safe.” He looks at his grimy hands, as if noticing them for the first time. “The road was dusty, I’m covered in the stuff. I’m sorry, I…”

You shake your head and nod at him to continue. Acacius sighs despondently. 

“I was in the arena today. Me, a few other officers, other centurions, all loyal to Maximus, the senate, the people. We wanted to be ready, to prepare for the others.”

He reaches for your hand, cupping it in both of his and kissing it with reverent care. 

“I…we…” His voice breaks a little. “He died , there on the arena floor. Murdered by his own emperor.” He steadies himself, a note of rage entering his tone. “He was a hero of Rome. A hero of Rome . And that was how his life ended. That was his reward.”

He looks at you, features set hard, eyes burning with anger. And then his face softens, expression crumples, and he cannot hold back the tears as he buries his face against your shoulder.

***

You wash him clean of that terrible day in the baths, anointing his cuts and bruises with balms, ointments, and kisses. 

He watches as you apply the mixtures carefully to his skin. “I did not know you were a doctor, sweet lady.”

“No doctor,” you smile. “Just some knowledge passed from my mother and aunts, about healing plants and balms. I like to keep a few with me, just in case.”

“Just in case?”

“In case I marry a soldier.”

When he is clean, you dress him in a plain tunic from the linen cupboard and take him to bed.

Acacius rests his head on your bosom as you stroke his hair, his strong arm draped across your body. After a time, he breaks the silence.

“How can I keep fighting, if this is the fate of a Roman hero?” He shakes his head a little. “And yet, I am bound by my oath to serve.”

You kiss his forehead and stroke his cheek, tracing the line of a scar. “What would he say to you now?”

He looks up at you with those pitch-dark eyes, permitting himself a little smile. “Apart from ‘how did you ever manage to get a woman as lovely as her to marry you ’?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Apart from that.”

“He would probably say that the dream of Rome is worth fighting for.”

“I think you have your answer, then.”

He does not seem entirely convinced as he sits up beside you and leans in for a kiss. “Perhaps.” Another kiss. “Or perhaps only love is worth fighting for.”

You lie down and pull him to you, happy to feel his solid weight on top of you again. “Aren’t you fighting for love, though, when you fight for Rome?”

“If only she weren’t such a cruel mistress.” He kisses your neck, tugging down the neck of your robe to expose your breast. “Gods, I need you, my love.”

With your help, he discards his own tunic and takes off your dress. He sits back on his heels for a moment, running his big hands up your bare legs as he looks into your eyes.

“I am all yours, Acacius.” You extend your hand to him, guiding him into position. “Let me help you forget it all, even if just for tonight.”

He moves forward on top of you, holding your gaze for a few moments as he caresses your face and strokes your hair. His kiss is tender but urgent, his hand reaching for your breast as he starts to grind against you. 

“All yours, my love,” you repeat, watching as he moves back down your body. “Take me as you wish, as you need.”

He tries to take in every part of you with his mouth, lips moving with desperate need and grazing over your tits, your soft belly, your hips. One, two thick fingers slip between your thighs, keen to remind you what you taught him that first night together. You writhe against him as his beard scrapes against the delicate skin and curls that cover your mound, unable to stop yourself guiding him between your legs.

”Mine. Mine .” Acacius mutters the word as he hooks his arms under your thighs and buries his face against your cunt, nose rubbing against you while his tongue parts your folds. It’s as if he wants to devour you, such is the urgency with which he sucks and laps and licks. He runs his fingers over your dripping core and drops his hand to his cock, using your wetness to stroke himself as he continues to eat you out. He laps greedily at you as you come, your slick still glistening all over his face as he shifts forward and enters you.

He holds you down as he fucks you hard, fingers twined through yours, sweat dripping from his beautiful body onto your tits. There’s a desperation to his lovemaking tonight, a desire to escape his grief by losing himself in you - in your cunt, your flesh. He comes with a roar, filling you with life as he tries to rid himself of the bloody memory of death.

***

He leaves in the early morning, following military orders to assemble at the Field of Mars in spite of his misgivings and wavering loyalty. You make love before he goes: slow, soft, congress in the dawn light. 

You watch him dress, sitting up naked in bed. “Be careful, my love.”

Acacius fastens his cloak and leans in for a final kiss. “You too, love. I will come for you as soon as I can.” Before he leaves the room, he nods towards a leather pouch resting on the table.

“That isn’t payment , in case you are wondering. It is my duty as your husband - some money, should you need it urgently while I am away.” He looks as though he would rather sacrifice himself in the arena than leave. “I love you.”

That was the last time you saw him, until he appeared, a decade and a half later, as a vision in white: the triumphant hero of empire.

***

The crowds have dispersed now, the city humming with excitement at the prospect of a series of games to celebrate the feats of Acacius and his army in Numidia. 

The terracotta oil lamps cast a warm, comforting glow around your small home, nestled in a side street in a decidedly unfashionable part of the city. The brothel is firmly in the past for you now, as you earn a living making medicinal balms and ointments, using recipes learned from your mother and aunts. You prepare your simple evening meal and eat it quietly, preoccupied all the while by Acacius. 

He had seen you today, you were sure of it. What did he remember of you, of your love, of the secret “marriage” of spirit the two of you had entered into? Had he recognised you at all? He had grown even more handsome with the passing of time. You were not sure the same could be said of your beauty.

The little metal figurine lies on the table before you, your fingertips tracing over the outline of the man you had loved so much. With a gentle sigh, you move to the corner of the room and retrieve a plain, well-worn wooden box from the chest that holds your most precious possessions. He fits in well here, this Acacius, nestled among carefully-folded fabric you have preserved like a relic all these years. 

What might have been, in another world. But you have your memories, and your relics, and the comfort of having seen him one more time, after all these years.

***

A day or so later, you are about to turn in for the night when you hear the distinctive sound of a horse coming to a halt just outside your home, swiftly followed by a firm knock. A knock on your door at this hour is not usual , but neither is it unexpected or unprecedented. People have, on occasion, come in urgent circumstances, desperately seeking this balm or that ointment. 

You reach for your mantle and open the door a little. “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll get you what you need, if I have it.”

The cloaked figure at your door chuckles, turns, and takes down their hood.

"So you really do live. I am not sure one of your fine balms could fix the problems I’m facing, dear lady.”

You steady yourself on the doorframe, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or touch him to make sure he’s really there. 

“Oh, gods… Acacius .” You shake your head and correct yourself quickly. “I mean, General Acacius, I… how ?”

“Acacius, please. I’ll always just be Acacius with you.” He crosses an arm over his chest in a gesture of honourable sincerity, those dark eyes warm and oh so familiar, even after a distance of nearly twenty years. “May I come in?”

You gesture towards the table at the centre of the room and close the door, still not quite believing that he is really here , in your little home. He is no longer wearing the dress uniform, you notice, spying a simpler tunic and belt under the cloak. 

“I have some wine, if you would like? Nothing like the fine stuff you’re used to now, of course, but…”

“Anything you have is perfect.” Acacius moves closer to you and reaches for your hand, pressing his lips to it and smiling with delighted recognition when he realises you still wear the ring he gave you. He seems reluctant to let go, caressing your hand in both of his as his eyes take you in from head to toe. “I am so happy to see you…I thought I would never see you again. I…”

Before he can finish his sentence, you throw your arms around him and pull his beautiful, broad frame to you in a tight embrace.

***

The conversation is light, at first - small talk, mostly about the triumph, about the campaign in Africa, the sheer weight of the special armour and cloak he had worn for the procession, his relief in seeing his wife, Lucilla.

You smile when he mentions her. “You are both very lucky indeed, I think. She’s much loved, very beautiful, kind… maybe now you are home we will see more of her in the city? She is missed by the people.”

Acacius purses his lips. “Her movements are…not always in her own hands, these days.”

You nod in understanding as silence settles over the two of you.

He sips his wine and takes a deep breath. “I came back for you, did you know that? All those years ago. I kept my word, my vow to you. But you were gone .”

He tells his side of the story simply, though at times he struggles to keep his emotions in check. After Maximus’s death, it was well over a year before Acacius saw Rome again. In the political turmoil that followed the demise of Commodus, young officers like him were deployed to various parts of the empire to secure the Roman presence - and, he suspected, to prove their loyalty to the litany of new emperors who followed in quick succession. 

“As soon as I got back to the city, first chance I got, I went to find you. And everything was different - a new lena in the place.” He shakes his head at the memory. “When I asked about you, she…well, she said you were gone.”

You press your fingertips against the surface of the table. “I had returned to the family farm, I meant to come back, but…”

Acacius nods. “She knew you had gone to your family, but she told me you were dead . Said the news was that you’d died, a few months after you left Rome.”

He tells how he refused to accept your death. He searched for you as best he could, trying to piece together the little he knew about your life before Rome, before the brothel, before him . Dead end after dead end eventually convinced him, against his instincts, that you were really gone.

”I mourned you as a…a husband . Grew my hair for the period of mourning, didn’t trim my beard…” He smiles sadly. “I even covered my head and burned that linen tunic you’d dressed me in, that last night we spent together, in lieu of a funeral pyre. It was all I had of you.”

You reach for his hand, noticing the scars and callouses that were not there the last time you held it so tenderly. “I am so sorry, my lo-” The words came as easily as they did that last morning together. You checked yourself. “I mean, Acacius .”

He squeezes your hand and continues. “I kept telling myself I had let you down. Had I been here I could have helped you, made sure you were safe, protected you.” A sombre look darkens his features. “When I saw you up there in the crowd, for an instant I wondered if I was seeing things, if you were an apparition…reminding me that I had failed you.”

“You could never fail me, Acacius. Never. Not then, not now.” 

You sip your wine as you prepare to tell him your side of the story.

“I left Rome a couple of months after you did, and went back north to my family. I had to go but I intended to return, because I knew you would keep your word.”

Silence, again, and you know exactly what he’s going to ask you.

“Why did you leave the city…why did you have to go?”

Another sip of wine.

“I was with child.”

***

When you were absolutely certain, about two months after he left, you packed your things and made the necessary arrangements. His money helped pay your way northwards and home - and paid off your outstanding debts to the lena .

“Don’t you have siblings who can look after your ailing mother?”, she’d said, already starting to count your coin. “Can’t be doing with losing good girls like you, these days.”

“Only my brother remains on the farm, and he cannot manage it and care for my mother at the same time.” It wasn’t a lie , not really. Your sisters were scattered, and since your father’s death the farm was your brother’s responsibility. And strictly speaking, he did have to care for your mother - even if she wasn’t ailing in the way you’d described to the lena to justify your sudden departure.

You looked carefully at every soldier you saw on the road north, hoping against hope that one of them might be yours . In a roadside tavern you even asked after Acacius, after you overheard a group of legionaries talking about Maximus, but to no avail. 

At home, you were circumspect about your situation in Rome - and about the circumstances of your pregnancy. Pressed repeatedly by your mother, you told her the father was a young officer who loved you very much.

“And where is this lover boy, now that he’s got a child on you?” She surveyed your swelling belly with a mixture of irritation and resignation.

“He returned to his legion and we have had no word since.” Another not-really-a-lie. 

Your mother rolled her eyes, but could not disguise the sympathy in her tone. “Tale as old as time.”

You did whatever work you could, within the limits imposed by your condition. And one day, as you rested for a few moments in the meadow, the sun glinting off your garnet ring as your hand lay protectively across your swollen stomach, you felt the child quicken in your womb.

In your lowest moments, you worried that your certainty about paternity was misplaced, given the nature of your work. With every fibre of your being, though, you knew that this child was his. It could be no one else’s.

You planned, originally, to give birth and raise the child to the point where they could be taken care of by another while you worked. At that stage, you assumed, you and your child would return to Rome - and to Acacius.

But fate dealt a very different hand

***

There’s shock and sadness and a kind of excitement, even, in Acacius’s eyes as he listens to you tell the story. Realisation dawns: he was a father .

His voice is hushed. “A boy or a girl?”

You squeeze his hand, as much for your own comfort as for his. “A boy. And your double, from the moment he came into this world - all dark eyes and curly hair and even strange little habits and gestures that I knew were yours . I…named him for you.”

“A son .” He seems awestruck. “I have a son . Gods, I wish I had known.”

“I am so sorry, Acacius, I wish I could have found a way to tell you, for you to know…but I had no idea where you were, how I could find you or reach you.” You swallow back the tears. “Truly, please forgive me.”

He shakes his head and leans a little closer to you. “You don’t need to apologise, there’s nothing to forgive.” He kisses the back of your hand again before wiping an errant tear from your cheek. 

You look at him - really look at him, really take him in properly after all this time apart. He wears his age beautifully, from the lines on his face to the silvery strands of hair that frame his brow. Acacius has acquired more scars in his years of soldiering - across the bridge of his fine nose, a more livid, longer mark to his right cheek. But his eyes, in spite of all the terrible things he has seen and all the blood he has spilled, are as warm and kind when they look at you as they were the first night you met. 

“I always meant to come back to the city,” you continue. “I thought we’d return once he was old enough, find you again, and somehow make a life together. And then my mother died, and I couldn’t leave my brother to tend the farm alone, and my… our boy was so happy there. You were rising through the ranks, too, and a woman and child would have been the last thing you needed.”

Acacius shakes his head, regretfully, and sips his wine. 

“Did you tell him? About me?”

“As soon as he was old enough, yes. I told him all about you.” You smile at the memory of that time and tell him about your little boy’s bright eyes and dark curls, the wide smile on his face as he dashed here and there on the farm, chasing chickens and helping his uncle plant seeds. Your brother whittled him a rudimentary wooden sword, so that he could fight imaginary battles in the fields and cry out, with all the force his little voice could muster: “I am Acacius, hero of Rome.”

“He’s near a man now, I suppose?” Acacius looks around the room, as if making sure he hasn’t missed the boy somehow. 

You close your eyes as another memory casts a long, dark cloud of grief and pain: a memory of fever sweeping the countryside, of the horror as your bright, clever boy fell ill overnight, of your desperate attempts to heal him. And that indelible image, the one that still wakes you at night, sometimes: your brother, tears rolling down his weathered farmer’s face, carrying the small body in its small shroud.

***

Acacius says nothing for a long time, just holds your hand on the table and stares at his cup of wine as he tries to comprehend what you have told him. He breaks his silence with just two words.

“How old?”

“He was seven.”

You rise from the table, gently squeezing his shoulder as you cross towards your wooden chest and take out the plain wooden box where you had placed the miniature Acacius a couple of nights before. Settling back beside him at the table, you remove the lid and show him the contents.

“Is this…” He smiles wryly at the little figurine, picking it up to examine it more closely.

“I told you, didn’t I? They would cast you in bronze some day, Or, if not bronze, whatever that is.”

Carefully, you take out the rest of the items you’d stored with such love since the day you lost your beloved boy. A small tunic. A pair of his sandals, still marked with dust from the farm. A wax tablet, inscribed with his rudimentary letters and numbers. 

Acacius handles his son’s belongings as though they are the most precious objects in the world. He turns a little figurine of a soldier, carved from bone, over and over in his palm.

“He loved that one best.” 

It is strangely comforting and intimate to sit with Acacius in this shared grief, watching him somehow try to know the little boy he never met through the few belongings he left behind in the world.

“Acacius…” He looks at you, eyes glistening with tears, and you fight the urge to embrace him again. “I think you should keep that. If you wish, of course, but -”

He nods, cupping the toy in his big hand before placing it with great care and tenderness in the leather pouch on his belt.

“I can carry him with me.”

***

Before he leaves you, you give him a jar of your very best healing ointment as a parting gift. 

“For your next campaign, to help with cuts and bruises.”

He kisses you on the cheek, smiling as he opens the jar and inhales the warm, fragrant aroma of the balm. “I hope to get some respite from the battlefield for a while.”

You grin. “I’m glad to hear it. And I am so glad that you have a wonderful wife to go home to.”

His travelling cloak once more around his broad shoulders, Acacius bids you farewell and holds you in a long, tight embrace and murmurs into your ear.

“I loved you so very much. Always remember that.”

***

More games. More bloodshed. You stay at home, away from the festivities and the crowds. 

Another late-evening knock to your door, and this time you decide not to answer. The games have brought a rowdy crowd to the city, and it’s impossible to know what awaits on the other side. 

They knock again, firmly, clearly. Not the knock of a drunk, you muse.

You open the door to a young man, dressed in the typical garb of a servant, and a woman of regal bearing, dressed in a simple hooded cloak. 

“May I come in?”

She leaves the servant outside and checks that the door is firmly shut before she takes down her hood, revealing her fine features and blonde curls as you gasp in recognition - and panic.

“Gods! I mean…my lady, I…”

Lucilla smiles that sweet smile so beloved of the ordinary citizens and reaches for your hand, attempting to steady your evident nerves. “Please, don’t be alarmed. I cannot stay long, but…may we sit?”

Dumbfounded, you gesture towards your simple wooden chairs, watching in astonishment as the daughter of Marcus Aurelius seats herself at your table. She nods towards the other chair, encouraging you to join her.

“I am very sorry for arriving like this so late in the evening, unannounced. I do hope I’m not putting you out.”

You shake your head quickly, panic and terror still written all over your face, and she chuckles gently. “Please, I meant it - you have nothing to fear from me. And yes, I know my husband came to see you.” 

“He…I mean, I…I mean, we …”

Lucilla places her elegant, pale hand on the back of yours by way of reassurance. “I know. He has often spoken of you to me - and of his sorrow at not being able to protect you. When he realised you still lived, well…I simply wanted to meet the woman who meant so much to Acacius. We have a lot in common, you and I.”

For a moment, you wonder if you are dreaming. Most women would rather ignore their husband’s past loves, let alone want to visit them. 

“You didn’t mind that he came to see me?”

She shakes her head, blue eyes meeting yours. “Not at all. In fact, I encouraged him to seek you out, after he saw you during the triumph.”

“I…I’m not sure I understand, my lady.”

“We’ve lived , you and I, haven’t we? When Acacius and I met, I had already lost so many people. My husband, my father, my brother…and the man who was my first great love.”

Lucilla looks away for a moment, emotion threatening her poise. She speaks haltingly, more quietly now. “And I lost my son, too. I was very sorry to hear about your boy.” 

In that instant you forget all etiquette and protocol and extend your hand to hers, to comfort and to share the burden of your common grief. No more a former prostitute and the daughter of a great emperor - here, at your rustic table, you are simply two women united by the experience of loss.

“So we do have much in common, it seems, my lady.”

“We do. And that’s without even mentioning Acacius.” She smiles at you conspiratorially, and laughter fills the small room. 

“It haunted him, not having been able to find you again. Not getting to say goodbye, to tell you how much you meant.” She pulls her cloak more tightly around herself and rises from the table. “I was able to bid farewell to my first great love. When we realised you were alive, well…I wanted my beloved Acacius to have that chance, too.”

Before she takes her leave, Lucilla embraces you, kissing each cheek. “Thank you for loving him so well, all those years ago.”

You nod, still not quite believing that this conversation is really happening. “And thank you , for loving him now. And for encouraging him to visit me. He…he married a very good woman.”

She pulls up her hood and moves to the door, pausing for a moment. “He has always had impeccable taste, it seems.”

A final smile and nod, and she is gone, helped onto her horse by her servant before they ride away into the night, and home to the waiting arms of a hero of Rome.

[gigabyte-flare]

Hybrid

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: The year is 2123. The latest craze to hit the market are Hybrids, humans genetically engineered to have animalistic traits, born and raised to be the perfect companion. Your mom convinces you to get one since you live alone in a big city, however you get way more than you bargained for

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: puppy!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Pet play, dubcon, oral (f receiving), somnophilia, sex [p in v], mommy kink, breeding kink

A/N: Finally hopping on the puppy!Leon band wagon! Huge shoutout to @nexysworld for creating the adorable puppy!Leon for this fic's banner and for her and @elfven-blog for enabling me to write a puppy!Leon fic. Also lightly inspired by the puppy!Leon POV series by Nekrophil/ABP0RNS on Twitter (go check them out, their artwork is *chef's kiss*) Enjoy!

“Hybrids, the latest craze in New Los Angeles for human companionship. Humans spliced with animal DNA and raised to be your best friend! Hybrids are the perfect addition to any household! Adopt your Hybrid today at your nearest--”

You abruptly change the channel, sitting in a living room with your mom at her condo.

“Those things freak me the fuck out…” you say, mindlessly scrolling through channels.

“Hybrids? Aw, really? I think they’re cute!”

You turn to your mom, giving her a disgusted look, “really? You don’t see anything wrong with those things?”

She shakes her head, “no worse than the cyber augmentations people get, sweetie”

You watch your mom ponder for a moment, her eyes suddenly widening, “you should get one!”

“What-- Mom, no!”

“You’re in that apartment all away across town all by yourself, it’ll be good for you!”

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How you got dragged out to adopt a Hybrid is beyond you. Your mom somehow convinced you to at least go and look at what they have available for adoption. You lean your head against the passenger window and watch the sights of the city. You mindlessly listen to your mom rattle on about how excited she is to look at the Hybrids and you picking out one, which finally draws your attention.

“Whoa hold on, Mom, I never said I was buying one! I just said I would look, that’s all!” you draw your attention back out the passenger window, “besides, I can’t afford one, you know that. I’d never have enough credits in my lifetime for something like that.”

“Hun, I’m going to help you with that, don’t worry. This is for your wellbeing, after all!”

“Great…”

The large neon sign proclaiming that it was the location of a Hybrid adoption center made your stomach sink. Your mom pulls the car into the parking lot, getting out and practically dragging you out of the passenger’s side to go into the building. The reception area is a blinding white, a stark contrast to the neon grunge of the city outside. The woman behind the desk greets both of you both with a smile.

“Welcome to the Hybrid adoption center! How can I help you ladies today?”

Your mom grasps you by your shoulders, pushing you forward, “my daughter wants to see the Hybrids available for adoption today!”

“Oh that’s fantastic!” the receptionist says, her smile still plastered on her face, “what kind of Hybrid are you looking for?”

You look at the receptionist with a confused look, “what do you mean what kind?”

“Well, we have different kinds that are spliced with different animals! However, our dog and cat Hybrids are our most popular, would you like to start with one of those?”

You look at your mom for a moment before shifting your attention back to the receptionist, “um… I guess the dog ones…?”

“Great choice! Now then, I’ll notify our active adoption coordinator and have her come out to take you to see what we have for dog Hybrids, have a seat!”

You and your mom take a seat in the waiting area. You lean forward, fiddling with your fingers as you both wait. Your mom was more excited to see the Hybrids than anyone. You just wanted to please your Mom and move on. You had no intention of adopting a Hybrid. The sound of a door sliding open makes you jump as a woman with a clipboard comes out to you and your Mom.

“Are you the two ladies here to see our dog Hybrids?” she asks enthusiastically.

“Yes we are!” your mom immediately answers, practically jumping out of her seat. 

The woman motions for you both to follow her, you do so reluctantly. She leads you down a set of pure white corridors before coming upon another door that slides open. Both sides of the room were lined what you could only describe as cells and you see them, the Hybrids. You expected to hear barking for some reason, but that’s not the case here. They all are saying hello and grabbing the bars that keep them in their cells. 

“They can talk…?” I ask.

“Yes! Hybrids are perfectly capable of human speech! Did you have something in particular in mind for a dog Hybrid?”

“You should get a male--” Mom interjects.

“Mom!”

The coordinator just laughs, “we have plenty of males to choose from, let’s take a look!”

The first thing you notice is all of them are naked, making this whole situation even more awkward. Hybrids were quite literally people with animal parts grafted onto them; it was quite unsettling to you.

“How is this even ethical?” you whisper to your Mom.

“Stop it!” your Mom scolds you. 

Most of the Hybrids were much too… eager and hyper for you, making you a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t until you got to one of the last cells when a Hybrid actually caught your attention. He, of course, was nude like the rest, but he wasn’t jumping all over the place trying to get your attention. He was laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and, admittedly, he was quite gorgeous; you were bummed he was a Hybrid and not a human. He finally notices you, rolling over and smiling as he grasps the bars on his cell.

His voice is gentle, “hi there! I’m Leon!” his matching blonde tail wagging back and forth. 

Something you hadn’t noticed before was that all the Hybrids had two sets of ears, their human ears and their animal ears, “do they all have two sets of ears?” you ask.

“So their animal ears aren’t actually ears, they’re simply appendages meant for cosmetics. Their human looking ears are their actual ears.” the coordinator replies, “this is Leon, he just turned 21; he’s a very calm boy, very loyal and friendly, but protective, too.”

“Oh sweetie he’s perfect for you! Look at him! He’s adorable!” your mom exclaims before speaking to the coordinator, “she lives in an apartment all by herself.”

“Oh! Leon would be perfect for you! What do you say?”

Your gaze shifts to Leon, his pretty blue eyes practically pleading at you, his tail still wagging. 

You let out a heavy sigh, you can’t believe you’re actually doing this, “I’ll take him.”

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The next few days were a blur, consisting of filling out paperwork and buying things Leon would need for when he comes home. Thankfully Hybrids eat the same things humans do, so you just have to make sure you buy for two instead of just for yourself. The day came for Leon to come home to your apartment and your first order of business was getting clothes on him, having him naked all the time was just way too weird. That was proving harder than you anticipated. 

“No! It’s itchy!” Leon whines, kicking off the pants and underwear you had put on him for the fifth time before curling up on the floor.

At that point you conceded defeat, you were just going to have to deal with him being naked for now. You guessed it made sense, he’s probably been naked his entire life. You watch him as he plays with a rubber bone you had bought him, immediately noticing his canine teeth were much sharper than a normal human’s would be. You look over in the corner where you had a large crate set up, it was actually at the coordinators recommendation that you get a crate for him even though the idea of putting him in it made you really uncomfortable. You’d hope you wouldn’t have to use it.

Your attention returns to Leon, who’s still playing with his bone happily, sporting this new collar you got him. It was a blue leather collar to match his eyes and had a bone shaped tag that had his name on the front and your contact info on the back.

“Leon,” you suddenly call to him, holding your hand out, “wanna play fetch?”

Leon immediately perks up onto his haunches before crawling over to you with the toy in his mouth.

You tried your damned hardest not to focus on his very large dick, even flaccid it was quite large. Again, you curse that he’s not a human internally. He drops the toy from his mouth into your hand and you reach out, giving him a scratch behind one of his dog ears. His cheeks turn red, leaning his head into your touch. 

“Aren’t you a sweet boy…” you say before tossing the toy gently. 

Leon chases after the toy, picking it up in his mouth and bringing it back over to you for you to throw again. You do this a few more times before Leon decides he’s had enough, he climbs up onto the couch next to you, laying his head in your lap as he stretches out across the rest of the couch, his tail making a rhythmic thumping sound as he wags his tail. You run your fingers through his hair, looking down at him.

His blue eyes look up at you and he smiles, “I love you, Mommy!”

You feel your breath hitch at his words, but you quickly recover and smile back, “love you too, Leon.”

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

“Leon, get back here right now!” 

You never thought you’d be starting your day chasing Leon around the living room with a pair of boxers in your hands.

“Leon, come on! My best friend is coming over and I can’t have you running around naked, at least wear these boxers for god’s sake! I even cut a hole in the back for your tail, just get over here so I can put them on!”

“No! It itches!” Leon protests, somehow managing to stay one step ahead of you as he darts around the living room on all fours.

After a while, you manage to corner him on the couch, quickly slipping on the boxers, making sure to pull his tail through the makeshift hole you had made. He starts to pull them off when you scold him.

“Leon, no! Do you want to go in the crate?”

Leon stops, pulling the boxers back up and giving you the most pathetic puppy eyes, “no, Mommy…”

“Then they stay on at least until my best friend leaves, ok?”

Leon nods, climbing off the couch, grabbing his rubber bone before climbing back onto the couch to chew on it. 

“Thank you… good boy…” you say before you work on cleaning up your apartment for your best friend to arrive. 

About a half hour goes by when you hear your phone go off, a notification displaying that there is someone at the door. With a couple of taps on your phone, your best friend’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey there, I’m here!” she says, giving you a big smile.

“Hang on Hailey, I’ll be right there!”

You go up to your apartment door, push a few buttons on the key panel next to the door and the door slides open. Hailey, your best friend since you were kids, comes in and gives you a hug.

“It’s been too long! What is it that you wanted to show me?” Hailey asks. 

You motion for Hailey to follow you into the living room, where you find Leon still contently chewing on his bone, the boxers thankfully still on.

“Is… is that one of those Hybrids?!” the shock is evident in Hailey’s voice.

“Y-Yeah… mom convinced me to get him; his name is--”

“Hi there!” Leon sits up, his tail wagging in full circles as he looks to your friend, “I’m Leon!”

Hailey leans over to whisper into your ear, “are all Hybrids that hot?”

You elbow her, “shut up! It’s hard enough to deal with as it is without you mentioning it!”

Leon looks between the two of you, cocking his head in confusion, his tail still wagging, now hitting against the couch. 

“Listen, I’m pretty sure most people fuck their Hybrids, like, look at him, how could you not?”

“Hailey, no! That’s fucking weird.”

“You’re telling me that you haven’t at least thought about it?”

“We’re not talking about this, not in front of Leon.”

Leon, meanwhile, has returned his attention to his rubber bone, chewing it aggressively when he suddenly picks up an unusual scent, one he’s never smelled before. He stops chewing, flaring his nostrils as he sniffs the air. Whatever it was, it smells sweet, almost like a wildflower. He quickly realizes that it’s you that smells like this, even though it was so faint. He wanted to get up and stuff his nose into you to take in more of this sweet smell, however, he knew he’d get in trouble, especially with your friend being here. To his dismay, you and your friend went back into the kitchen to hang out, bringing that irresistible smell with you.

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In the dead of night, Leon is restless, tossing and turning in his plush bed that sat at the foot of your bed. The smell from the other day has only become stronger over time and it was getting to Leon’s head. The smell was making his cock hard, something he hadn’t really experienced until now. It is almost painful; just him simply running his fingers along his cock made him flinch. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he sat up, carefully climbing onto your bed. You were laying on your back, sound asleep with your legs spread open.

Leon gently crawls his way between your legs, the intoxicating smell emanating from the spot between your legs; he notices a dark spot on your panties. Gently, he presses his nose against the wet spot, inhaling deeply as his tail wags back and forth.

That’s it… that’s where that smell is coming from…

He glances up at you, you’re still sound asleep. He gently hooks a finger on your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening cunt to him; it practically makes him salivate. He hesitantly runs his tongue over your slit, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the taste of you. You suddenly stir, your hips shifting slightly as a soft moan comes out of you. Your eyes flutter open and you look down to find, to your horror, Leon between your legs, eating you out. 

You blink a few times before shouting, “LEON!”

Taking his mouth off of you, Leon’s eyes widen as he pushes himself off the bed, letting out a soft whimper as you sit up and cover yourself with your blanket. 

“In your crate!” you point to the bedroom door, your face beet red, “now!”

“Mommy… I’m sorry… I just--”

“GET. OUT!”

Leon’s puppy ears droop and his tail tucks itself between his legs as he crawls out into the living room. You follow behind him, making sure he puts himself in his crate before shutting the crate door behind him. Looking up and whining at you, his fingers grip the bars of the crate as he stares up at you, pleading to you with his blue eyes. Unfortunately, you simply shake your head at him and walk back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Leon feels tears well up in his eyes as he grips the bars on the crate. 

What did he do wrong? He was only doing what his instincts told him to do, why was that bad? Releasing his grip on the crate bars, he makes himself as comfortable as he possibly can in his situation, crying himself to sleep, your sweet scent still lingering in the air.

 🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

You didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night, between the sounds of Leon’s cries echoing through your bedroom door to just the thought of waking up to Leon eating you out disturbed you to your core. You finally get yourself out of bed, throwing on your pajama bottoms before walking out of your bedroom. You find Leon awake in his crate, his eyes red and puffy from crying all night. Upon seeing you, he immediately sits up, gripping the crate bars, his tail wagging so hard it was a blonde blur. Against your better judgment, you walk up to the crate, unlocking it to let him out. 

As soon as you open the crate door, Leon bolts out, wrapping his arms around your legs, holding you tight. The fact that he buries his nose into you and deeply inhales doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Thank you for letting me out, Mommy! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be a good boy, I swear!”

You pry his arms off you and push him away, “Just… just go play with your toys Leon…” you say before walking into the kitchen to make yourself coffee and breakfast. 

Once you have your coffee and breakfast, you practically collapse at the small dining table, rubbing your face with your hands. What are you going to do? You could start crating him at night, but something about that didn’t sit right with you. Suddenly, you feel something rest on your lap and the sound of something thumping against the floor. You move your hands away from your face to find Leon’s head resting in your lap, his tail wagging against the floor.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you, his puppy ears erect and alert. 

“Nothing, Leon…” you say with a sigh, “you must be hungry. I’ll make you something to eat…”

You get up from the table and over to the stove where you make him some eggs and bacon. Once finished, you put them on a plate and set it on the floor in front of him and watch as he scarfs it down. You sit back down at the table and slowly pick away at your breakfast and take sips out of your coffee mug. You feel Leon rest his head onto your lap again. You look back down, finding him looking up at you longingly, his tail wagging insistently. 

“What is it, Leon?” you ask, leaning back in your chair.

Leon doesn’t say a word, however, as he climbs up until he’s face to face with you, staring directly into your eyes, his tail still wagging. He lets out a soft whimper as he grinds his hips into the side of your thigh. You happen to glance down, greeted with his painfully hard member rubbing against you. Looking back up at him, Leon whimpers again, his hands softly caressing your arms.

“Leon… are you ok…?”

You watch as Leon swallows hard before he continues rutting himself against your thigh, his breath trembling.

“I need… to mate with you…” Leon finally replies, his grip on your arms tightening as he continues to grind into your thigh.

Your heart begins to race as very conflicting feelings begin to overtake you.

This is so wrong, you think to yourself.

That thought doesn’t stop you as you lean forward, giving Leon a gentle kiss on the lips, cupping his face in your hands. Leon deepens your kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before playfully biting your bottom lip. You stand up from the table, leading him back into the bedroom, shutting the door before you begin to undress. As soon as you're naked, Leon stands up on two feet, pushing you into the bed face first so that your backside is propped up. You feel yourself tremble in anticipation as you feel Leon climb onto the bed behind you. You flinch when you feel his cock caress your soaked slit, coating itself in your arousal before he pushes himself inside you. 

“Oh… Oh god--!” you cry out as Leon’s length fills you completely, pushing into your g-spot almost immediately, your fingers gripping your sheets. 

You hear Leon whimper as his hips begin to move into you. He starts out slow, but he quickly gains confidence and begins to thrust into you harder and faster, his hands gripping your hips so hard that you’re bound to have bruises later. 

“Yes… oh yes, Mommy… you feel so good…” Leon moans as he pounds into you harder, “am I a good boy…?”

“Yes…” you reply in a breathy moan as your eyes roll back into your head, “you’re such a good boy, Leon… you fuck Mommy so good…”

You feel his hands grip your hips even tighter as he pulls your body to him, thrusting into you even harder, his loud moans and whimpers filling the room along with the wet sounds of your needy cunt taking him. 

“Aaaaahhh… f-fill me up with your puppies Leon--!” you suddenly cry out, your pussy walls squeezing around his cock as he continues to thrust into you.

Leon growls in response, placing one of his hands onto your back to push you into the mattress as he fucks you relentlessly. His instincts are in overdrive, his thoughts completely overtaken by his burning desire to breed you. 

“Oh my god… you’re such a good boy, Leon!” you praise him, completely drunk off his cock, your legs trembling as you’re filled with complete ecstasy.

You suddenly feel his cock start to swell inside you and you quickly realize he is knotting. It feels surprisingly good, making you feel full. You sit up on your knees, pressing your back against his chest as he continues to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, nuzzling your cheek against his as his hands find their way to the front of your body, caressing your breasts as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“I can’t wait…” Leon starts, his voice rough, “to see your belly full of my puppies.”

You repeatedly moan his name, the word fuck and good boy as he pounds his cock into you, your legs starting to feel weak as they violently tremble. Before they give way, a sudden warmth fills your pussy as he pushes himself inside you as hard and deep as he possibly can, his hands gripping both your breasts tightly as he bites into your shoulder. You let out an animalistic moan as you also cum on his cock, your greedy cunt milking his seed deep inside your womb. 

Both of you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion with his length still buried inside you, ensuring that not a single drop of his cum is wasted. His arms and legs wrap around you as his face nuzzles into the back of your neck. Your whole body is trembling, completely overwhelmed by how good Leon was for you. You reach back, running your hand through his hair and caressing one of his puppy ears, whispering softly to him that he is a good boy.

You’re going to get used to this.

[mushimatsu]

I found the full versions of the job apps from this post! This was a collab with the restaurant chain Sukiya, so that's where the job app is for! Pictures from this blog post here!

Translation under the cut

Osomatsu:

Academic background/work experience (include relevant experience):

(dates left blank) NEET, factory job, Chinese food restaurant, etc Anyway I have experience with a lotta stuff! And more

About yourself:

Gyuudon! I can eat a lot of it! Beer! (something crossed out) I can drink a lot of it! 

Hobbies/Skills:

Horse racing, pachinko, all kinds of gambling!

Reason for your application:

Because I think I could eat a lot of gyuudon. And because I think a pork bowl made with a brand new model of charcoal grill would be tasty! 

Working hours (for example 9 ~ 17): (he left this blank and just put an x through Monday, Saturday, and Sunday)

Other requests:

I’d like to immediately take off days where a machine is being replaced, store remodeling days, and horse race days! 

What days would you prefer to work?: (left blank)

How many hours would you like to work a day?: (left blank) How long can you work for?: (left blank)

Karamatsu:

(in the furigana section where you're supposed to write the pronunciation of your name he wrote it in English instead of hiragana)

Phone Number: Secret (it's so important to tell you that he wrote "secret" as the English word in katakana, and not the Japanese word for secret)

Academic Background/Work Experience:

Theater Completed curriculum at Hybrid Oden cart (Hybrid misspelled as Hybrit) And more

About yourself:

When I take the stage called Sukiya... After that... Who knows...

(sorry if this is incorrect idk how the fuck to translate what he said. hate his ass /j)

Hobbies/Skills:

I can sing while playing guitar, and more...

Reason for your application:

Gyuudon, butadon, curry... Because your menu calls to me...

Working hours (for example 9 ~ 17): (left blank)

Other requests:

I'm not tied down to anyone...

What days would you prefer to work?:

What a foolish question...

How many hours would you like to work a day?:

I'm not tied down to any time...

How long can you work for?:

How many times do I have to tell you...

Choromatsu:

Academic Background/Work Experience:

Totoko-chan's manager Worked at father's friend's company And more

About yourself:

Personally, I would benefit from your company's management policy, so I think I can achieve results while working remotely. The other day, all my brothers caught a cold, but I was busy making content as a small influencer!*

Hobbies/Skills:

Kanji certification level 6, English certification level 6. Thank you very much.

Reason for your application:

Sukiya would benefit from an entrepreneur and marketing and advertising specialist with a concise plan to make KPIs a priority activity. Boosting conversions** can create solutions for Sukiya through engagement. Gyuudon benefits will surely create profit. Assign buffers and launch. Thank you very much.* ** like click through rate

Working hours (for example 9 ~ 17): (left blank)

Other requests:

Frankly, a pension plan is a must, with a minimum of 200,000 yen fixed and committed per month. Thank you very much.

What days would you prefer to work?:

I will send you the agenda for today's activities afterwards. Thank you very much.

How many hours would you like to work a day?: (left blank)

How long can you work for?: (left blank)

*(struggled so much with him and his business buzzwords if anyone has corrections please tell me)

Ichimatsu:

Academic Background/Work Experience:

Honored Squad Leader for Life at Factory Worked at Cat Cafe, as a cat And more

About yourself:

I want to gather some cats at the restaurant, but not like it would be a cat cafe, and make a "Cat Sukiya"...

Hobbies/Skills:

Cat certification level 2

Reason for your application:

I want to surround the restaurant with a lot of cats.

Working hours (for example 9 ~ 17): (left blank)

Other requests:

How many cats am I allowed to bring to the restaurant?

What days would you prefer to work?:

No particular preference

How many hours would you like to work a day?:

No particular preference

How long can you work for?:

As long as there's cats

Jyushimatsu:

Academic Background/Work Experience:

PRACTICE SWINGS

About yourself:

78 METER THROW

Hobbies/Skills:

BASEBALL

Reason for your application:

I WANT TO EAT LOTS OF GYUUDON!

(All the questions about when you're available to work):

I WANT TO EAT GYUUDON EVERY DAY!!

Todomatsu:

Academic Background/Work Experience:

Currently attending a very prestigious college Part time job at a trendy coffee shop And more

About yourself:

My brothers are all stupid, so I'm the best choice <3

Hobbies/Skills:

English and Japanese certified

Reason for your application:

The new menu item avocado gyuudon is my favorite, so you're going to release it, right? That is to say, you'll hire me, right? Right? Thanks <3

Working hours (for example 9 ~ 17): (left blank)

Other requests:

Rather than just beer, I want to sell kalua milk and cassis orange too ⭐

What days would you prefer to work?: (left blank)

How many hours would you like to work a day?: (left blank)

How long can you work for?:

Depends on if the customers are cute girls <3

thank you @totmatsu for ur help

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

Whoever created the saying ‘you can cut the tension with a knife’ had never been more wrong. Someone would need a power saw to cut the tension between Bucky and I. After the little disagreement we had, we both went to sleep with our backs turned towards each other. It was well into the morning and not one word had been spoken between us. 

Bucky was in the bathroom, getting ready for our market trip, while I was standing at the counter with my back turned towards the bathroom and making a list of everything we needed. Despite the bad end to my night, I had managed to make decent money at work so we were able to buy more than usual. 

Sensing Bucky’s warmth behind me, I continued to ignore him as I double counted the money. It became incredibly hard to ignore him when his scent filled my nose, sending chills throughout my body. We stood shoulder to shoulder as he looked over some of his knives before pocketing them. 

“You haven’t brought your knives with you in almost a year,” I spoke softly. 

He shrugged and I felt him slip one into my back pocket. His hand lingered for a quick second before pulling away. 

“I have a weird feeling.” He admitted. 

Bucky went to walk away but I placed a hand on his broad chest to stop him. His eyes looked into my own and I could sense the disappointment lingering off of him. 

“I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’ve been so upset with what Hydra did to me that I forgot for a second of what you went through. It was wrong of me to be so ‘woe is me’ when you’re going through the same thing; only worse.” 

He sighed and placed his flesh hand over mine that was still placed on his chest. He gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have shut you out the way I did. The past few days I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that something is going to happen.”

I looked at him confused. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “We should get going.” 

Bucky dropped my hand to place his hat over his head and he went to hand me mine but I declined. 

“I think my new hair color is going to be enough of a disguise,” I joked while throwing it up into a messy bun. 

“I still can’t believe it changed that quick,” Bucky said. 

A large groan left my lips. “I know. I thought about dying it to my original color but who knows that it won’t change back.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I kind of like it.” 

“Oh you do, huh?” 

I could stop the small giggle I let out as the air around us shifted. The anger between us dissipated and was replaced with sexual tension. Bucky closed the distance between us in one large step and his metal fingers tangled in my hair, releasing it around my face. 

“I also like it when it’s down,” Bucky mused, his voice getting deeper. “Easier to grab.” 

His fingers gently grabbed the back of my skull and pulled my lips closer to his. 

Clearing my throat, I tried to think of something to say back. But with the intense sexual feeling that was warming my insides, my brain went to mush. Lust clouded around us, creating a small bubble with only the two of us. We were blocked out from the rest of the world. I stumbled over my words and could feel Bucky’s warm breath fanning over my lips. 

“Y/N,” he breathed. 

“Yes?” 

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say. But he wasn’t able to speak because my phone ringing from the counter brought us back to reality. I felt him start to pull away so I gently grabbed his hips. 

“I have voicemail,” I reminded him. 

He shook his head, embarrassment causing his cheeks to turn red. “It’s okay. We should really get going.” 

And suddenly the bubble around us popped. 

Letting out a sigh, I reached for my phone. Bucky slipped on his glove over his metal hand so he hadn’t noticed the look of shock on my face when I read the new text message. 

Make sure to bring an umbrella today. I’m seeing a chance of rain.

The number may have been unknown but I didn’t matter. I knew who it came from. 

“Who was it?” Bucky questioned from behind. 

“No one,” I shook my head while pocketing my phone. “Ready?” 

Bucky knew I was hiding something but thankfully he decided not to press the issue. We both walked out of the apartment and I suddenly had the same feeling that something was about to happen today. 

Something we weren’t prepared for. 

Giving the old lady a quick smile of thanks, I placed the bag of apples in the one I had brought from home and looked around for Bucky. He mentioned that he needed to run a personal errand once but that was a while ago. I started to worry that something might have happened to him, especially after receiving the text message earlier. 

“Looking for someone?” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Bucky. “Find what you need?” 

He nodded before slowly pulling out a small box from his pocket and handed it towards me. I took it without saying a word and when I opened it, a small gasp left my lips. Inside was a small necklace. A black gem shaped as a circle was in the middle and gold surrounded it. 

“What is this?” I asked. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

My eyes snapped away from the necklace and over to Bucky. His hands were deep in his pockets, something I noticed he did when he was nervous. 

“You remembered?” 

It was right when we first arrived in Bucharest, one of the earlier nights, we stayed up as he listened to me go on about my life before SHIELD; my childhood, my family, and the time I spent in the FBI and SWAT. 

Bucky nodded. “I know it’s not much but it’s all I could afford.” 

Immediately shutting him up, I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “It’s absolutely perfect, Bucky. Thank you.” 

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I turned my back to him, allowing him to place the necklace on my neck. Bucky’s breath fanned over the back of my neck and chills took over my body. His hands rested on my hips from behind and his soft lips left a kiss on the side of my neck. 

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m taking things slow between us. I’m trying to remember how to do all of this.” Bucky admitted with a hushed tone. 

“It’s alright. I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. 

My fingertips played with the necklace and my heart warmed with the thought that Bucky had wanted to get me a present. 

Bucky brushed his lips against the side of my head and motioned towards the plum stand that was a few feet in front of us. 

“Alright, let’s get some plums then head back home.” 

His metal arm wrapped around my shoulder as he led me towards the stand. I remained quiet as I watched Bucky converse with the lady in Romanian, asking if the plums were good today. After he bought five, he looked down at me with a small smile. 

“What?” He asked.

“I like it when you speak Romanian,” I admitted while biting my lip. 

Suddenly the air around us shifted and Bucky noticed it as well. He pulled me closer to him and looked around the market. His body went rigid with tension and I quickly took the bag of plums from the lady then we both rushed our way home. 

We came to a stop as we were getting ready to cross the road, however, Bucky’s eyes landed on a man that was working at a newsstand. The man watched our every movement with fear in his eyes. 

“We’ve been made,” Bucky muttered. 

My eyes doubled. “What? Are you sure?”

He discreetly nodded towards the man, who now left his stand, and we both crossed out way over to it. Bucky looked around while my eyes went straight to the newspaper from today and what I read on the front page dropped my heart straight to my stomach. Even though I couldn’t read Romanian, the only words I needed to know were Winter Soldier. 

“Bucky,” I stammered while showing him the front page. “What does this say?”

“I’m wanted for bombing the U.N in Vienna.” 

His heart hammered in his chest and his breath quickened. After he threw the paper back on the stand, he brought me into his chest and started walking back towards our apartment. It was only a few minutes from the market so thankfully we could get out of hiding fast. 

“What are we going to do?” I trembled. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky reassured me. “Let’s just get home. We’ll figure it out.” 

Once we were safely inside the complex, Bucky and I both rushed up the stairs but he came to a quick halt right outside the door. His shoulders went straight and he brought out a knife from his pocket. 

“What is it?” 

“Someone’s inside,” he muttered nodding towards the door. 

“Seriously? Who found out where we live?” I thought mostly towards myself. 

Bucky went to go inside but I stepped in front of him to stop him. “Let me go first. Police are looking for you, not me. If they’re inside, I can distract them long enough for you to make a run for it.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you, Y/N.” 

“I’ll be okay. We’ll meet at that place in the mountains.” 

We had a small house up in the mountains that we were using as a safe house in case something like this were to happen. Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, I entered the apartment with the knife clutched hard in my hand. I sensed a body as soon as my feet crossed the threshold and once I saw who exactly was in the apartment, the knife clattered to the ground causing him to turn on his heels, shield drawn high ready to fight. 

All of the past feelings slammed into me like a brick wall and even under the mask, I could tell that his face was showing the effects of how tired he was, his eyes shined a little less than they used too. 

We stared at each other for a few long moments before he placed the shield on the counter. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 

Swallowing the very large lump in my throat, my voice had come out way more shaky than I had intended. 

“Steve.” 

[artsekey]

I really hate how ads have taken over the internet. On one hand, I know that hosting a website costs money, right? And ad revenue is one of the simplest ways for free-to-use websites to cover their operating costs.

My question is-- and I would genuinely love an answer-- is this ever going to stop? Tumblr ran for a long time without ads. So did Youtube. I know that the cost of hosting so much media has gone up, but there are a lot of users on these websites that make the content that drives people to use the service that don't see any of the money generated by this revenue. On Youtube, there's at least a way for creators to make some money from what they do. For most, it isn't much, but the opportunity is there. On Tumblr, well... the ability to convert the visibility of my blog into any financial gain practically nonexistent, though they did at one point promise that users would be able to make money from ads run on their blogs (whatever happened to that, Staff?).

"You can pay to avoid seeing ads!" Tumblr says, as if the views on my main blog alone over the past few years have not generated more than enough ad revenue to cover the price they're asking me to pay, the person who is actively making content that brings eyes to their ads.

I'm not mad at Tumblr for hosting ads. I get that it has to happen because it's the easiest way to keep the site free, and honestly, I imagine Tumblr's staunch opposition to monetization has been a real obstacle for the team building Tumblr. But at the same time, it feels like yet another small concession in the usability of the site. I'm tired of ads that auto-play with blaring audio while I'm scrolling. I'm tired of adds that, if I touch them while trying to scroll past them, take me to an external site. Outside of tumblr, I'm tired of looking for information online only to get a webpage that's 95% ads and otherwise illegible. Hell, I recently got an ad on Discord. Was it unobtrusive? Maybe. But it was there, for the first time, and I know that won't be the end.

I know the first reply I'm going to get on this is "use adblock", and yes, that's a solution, but think about how much the landscape for media has changed in just ten years.

Popular forums are basically gone outside of reddit.

Youtube, without Red, is ad hell. You can't watch more than 3-4 minutes of video without getting sent to marketing hell.

Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter-- it's terrible. I firmly believe they've manufactured a worse experience through the implementation of ads to convince you to buy into their premium services.

Just Check out this video of Penguinz0 trying to watch a video on a third-party site.

There's discussion of putting ads into video games.

Remember when games didn't include micro-transactions? Blizzard is charging $70 for one mythic skin. You could almost buy Overwatch 1 twice-over at that price-point.

Influencers make a living by making their lives into advertisements.

Youtube has retaliated against users using ad-block on non-chrome browsers by artificially inflating the load times of it's videos.

What can we do about this? I imagine companies see it as an infinite money hack; users can't stop companies from hosting ads, and the action they could take to voice their displeasure-- leaving the site, using other competitive services-- has been all but obliterated thanks to the homogeneity of popular social media outlets. If someone is truly so incensed about ads, well-- it isn't like they have to engage with them, right? They can enroll in a cheap, auto-renewing service to get rid of ads entirely. Well, wait, the price of premium might just have to go up. Don't worry, it's auto-renewing! You won't even notice it. Oh, no, it's got to go up again, you won't even notice it.

There's no incentive for them to cap this behavior, and no way for us as users to pressure them to do so. We create these spaces; we fill them with color, art, activism, community, and the companies that ride on the tailcoat of the spaces we create tell us to give them more. What comes next?