#i feel like i've giffed everything at this point

[casualavocados]

What happened to you? [...] None of your business.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 10

[lilcathsmith]

Crime Show Meme - CSI insp [2/5 cases]

"you're acting like you're going to rescue a person, not recover a body. And on this job... that's just not usually the case. "I was rescued." - Gum Drops (Season 6 Episode 5, 20th October 2005)

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

sometimes when i watch music videos, i see the band doing things and making me laugh and i'm like "if i was watching this with gail, i would've pointed that out"

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

omgg i love that so much please. that's the fun of watching things with people!! sharing different things with each other and pointing out things that happen together.

i think that's part of my thing about gifs, i didn't have anybody to do that with for a long time and i always was like "i wish i could just take a piece of one part of a video and send just that to somebody so we can see and acknowledge it together"

and like a lot of people have made me feel like watching a whole video is always too much work or an inconvenience if i post/send a link somewhere, just ignoring it or something, so i'm like. i want to just show that ONE little part at least. it would make it so much easier to share things with people if i could just take those few seconds and put it in front of their face so they don't have to do ANY work to see it. i will do all of the work, just look at it with me.

and that was why i found a way to make gifs, and then after i made a tumblr(and actually used it this time), i was thinking "what if there's a part that somebody else likes that i don't notice myself? i'll just do EVERY SCENE so it's ALL there in gif form"

and then i started loving more things about the whole process i made for myself and everything and yeah. ANYWAY. making the different speeds of gifs and giving certain ones their own posts is like me pretending i have somebody to point those parts out to, even though i don't(not directly at least)

but i love so much that it's in your mind to point things out if i was watching with you 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

we do need to watch music videos together sometime so that this can actually happen, i don't care what they are, i'd watch anything with you

[heybaetae]

.

[thebibliosphere]

So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)

The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."

They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?

Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.

Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)

It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:

ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."

Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.

This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:

"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."

This is what the AI changed it to:

"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."

Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"

Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?

Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.

[rafecameronssl4t]

hey! could u do a rafe x reader with kinda the grumpy and sunshine/ mean to everyone but me trope? like the reader is super girly and a total sweetheart like wouldn’t hurt a fly and no one expected rafe to be able to pull her? maybe like other guys have made moves on her but for some reason she only wants him

Untouchable || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!!!! (the gif above is what I envision Rafe's appearance to be in this fic)

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,178

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"Oh look, Rafe's here," Chelsea leans in to whisper to all of you girls. All heads turn to where she is subtly pointing. Rafe Cameron, with his buzzed hair and brooding expression, strides through the country club, his presence commanding attention.

You can't help but notice how your friends’ eyes widen, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Kaycee sighs, shaking her head. "It's such a shame he's so grumpy and mean all the time. He's good-looking, but that attitude just ruins everything."

A few of the girls agree with her words, their eyes still on Rafe. You're about to respond when you catch Rafe’s gaze from across the club. His intense blue eyes lock onto yours, and to your surprise, he starts walking toward your table. Your friends' chatter fades into the background as he approaches, and you can feel the tension rising.

"Guys?" Kaycee whisper yells, her eyes darting nervously between you and Rafe. Before you can answer, Rafe is standing beside you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close.

Your friends silently watch as he plants a soft kiss on your lips. The world seems to pause for a moment, the only sound your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smile that’s reserved just for you. "Hey, babe," he says, his voice low and intimate. You smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Hey, Rafe."

Your friends are staring, their mouths open in shock. Kaycee looks like she might faint, and Chelsea's eyes are so wide they might pop out of her head. You can practically hear their thoughts racing. "Hi ladies," Rafe nods his head to your friends as they all stumble across a response.

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the reaction. "I'll see you later yeah?" he murmurs as you hum in response, giving you one last squeeze before heading to his own table. As he walks away, your friends erupt into a flurry of whispers and exclamations. "Are you serious?" Lily asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. "You and Rafe Cameron?"

You shrug, attempting to play it cool but failing miserably. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a while now." Kaycee shakes her head, still in shock. "I can't believe you didn't tell us! All this time, we thought you were just committed to your single streak."

Jada's eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "Not gonna lie, I've been rooting for you two since our days at Kook Academy." You laugh. Across the club, you see Rafe sitting with his friends, who are equally stunned by what they just saw. They keep glancing over at you, clearly trying to piece together how their friend who was notorious for not doing relationships end up with you.

Rafe catches your eye and gives you a wink, his usual grumpiness replaced with a rare, genuine smile as you smile back.

~

As Rafe walks away from your table, the whispers and gasps of your friends gradually fade into the background. You watch him stride confidently across the pool area, his usual brooding expression softened by a small, private smile. He reaches his table, where his friends are already in various states of shock and confusion.

Kelce is the first to speak, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Dude, what was that?" He leans forward, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're telling me you bagged Y/n Y/l/n?"

Rafe drops into his seat and picks up his drink, taking a long sip before answering. "Yeah, we’ve been together for a while now." His tone is casual, but you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he lets the news sink in.

Topper, who has been silent until now, finally finds his voice. "How the hell did that happen?" he asks, still staring at Rafe as if he's grown a second head. "She’s turned down just about everyone on this island who’s tried, and that includes me!"

Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention. "That's just cause you guys aren't me" he says with a cocky smirk. "Or maybe I just didn’t give up." The table falls silent for a moment as his friends process this new information. Then, one by one, they start to bombard him with questions.

"How long have you been seeing her?" asks Kelce, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "Why didn’t you tell us?" adds Topper, his tone a mix of hurt and curiosity. "And how did you even get her to go out with you?" another friend chimes in.

Rafe leans back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed and confident. "We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now," he begins, glancing over at you with a soft smile. "I didn’t tell you guys because we wanted to keep it private. Didn’t want everyone in our business, you know?"

Topper raises an eyebrow. "And how did you manage to win her over? She’s not exactly known for giving people a chance." Rafe laughs, a deep, genuine sound that surprises even himself. "Honestly, it wasn’t that hard," he admits with a grin.

"I had my eyes on her for a while. She’s smart and doesn’t put up with any bullshit. 'S what I like about her." He glances over at you again, mesmerised by how radiant you looked, giggling at something your friend said.

His friends exchange looks, a mix of admiration and incredulity on their faces. It’s clear they’re seeing a side of Rafe they never knew existed. "Wow, man," says Kelce, shaking his head with a grin. "I never thought I’d see the day when Rafe Cameron is all soft and in love." Rafe playfully rolls his eyes, "You guys are idiots."

Topper claps Rafe on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Good for you, dude. Seriously. If anyone can handle your grumpy ass, it’s her." Rafe laughs again, the sound blending into the ambient noise of the country club. He glances back over at you, catching your eye once more. You smile at him, a warmth spreading through your chest as you see the genuine happiness in his eyes.

[chrisbangs]

trying to pull myself out of this depressive rut that i've been in for more than a month feels so impossible..

[harrysfolklore]

baby fever - husband!charles blurb

gif credits to @blueballsracing <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If there was something you never got tired of no matter how many years passed was joining Charles for race weekends.

And ever since you became husband and wife a year ago, being by his side during races and practices felt even more exciting and special.

This weekend was no different, you were joining him for the Emilia Romagna GP and this time you were bringing the newest addition to your little family: your dog Leo.

"Do you have Leo's pass?" Charles asked as you sat on the back of the car that was driving you to the circuit.

"Yes, I have it," you said, scratching behind Leo's ears, "Do you hace your pass though? I didn't see you grabbing it before we left."

Charles eyes widened at your words, "Shit!", he exclaimed, patting his jeans pockets in search of his pass, "I think I forgot it back there."

"Of course you did," you rolled your eyes and shook your head, "You're such a teenager sometimes, always forgetting everything."

"Give me a break, woman. I've got a lot on my mind," Charles retorted playfully, leaning over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Let's just hope they'll let me in without it."

"I don't think they will," you laughed, feeling the car start to slow as it approached the entrance to the paddock. "It's not like you're Charles Leclerc driver for Scuderia Ferrari or something."

Charles threw his head back in laughter, kissing you cheek again and scratching Leo's little head.

The driver pulled up to the security checkpoint, and as predicted, the guards immediately asked for Charles’s credentials. Charles gave them a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head. "I might have left it back at home," he confessed.

"Mr. Leclerc," the guard began, trying to keep a straight face. "This is the third time this season."

"Does it help that the dog has his pass?" you chuckled, holding up both your pass and Leo's as if to compensate.

"Alright, alright," the guard burst into laughter, shaking his head. "But next time, no excuses. We’ll let you through this time. Right Mrs. Leclerc?"

You smiled widely at the guard calling you by your new middle name, "I'll make sure he doesn't forget it!"

"Thank you!" Charles said, relieved, as the car was waved through. He reached over to scratch Leo's head. "Looks like you're the star of the show today, buddy."

Leo barked happily, tail wagging as you all stepped out of the car. The familiar buzz of the paddock enveloped you, the hum of engines, the chatter of the teams, and the clicking of cameras.

As Charles go through the gates, you and Leo following close behind, a camera from Ferrari's social media team approached him and asked how was he feeling about the start of Race Weekend.

"Started the morning without my pass," he said as he kept walking, Luckily they let me through and my wife had our dog's pass," you laughed quietly from behind him, "So today I can get to work and tomorrow we drive, so it's all good. But I almost missed out on race weekend for a pass."

The camera team chuckled at Charles’s confession, "Well, it’s good to know Mrs. Leclerc and Leo are on top of things," one of the team members remarked, directing the camera toward you and Leo.

"Always ready to save the day!" you gave a playful salute to the camera.

You and Charles made it to the Ferrari area, where his team would tell him what activities he had to do before getting in the track, as you walked hand in hand, you noticed that a couple of Tifosi were hanging around, and a little boy who's eyes lit up as Charles walked by caught your attention.boy,

"Baby, look," you called for Charles, pointing at the little boy, "Why don't you go say hi."

Charles followed your gaze and noticed the little boy standing shyly among the crowd of Tifosi, clutching a miniature Ferrari car in his hands. His eyes were wide with excitement as he looked up at Charles.

Charles smiled warmly and made his way over to the boy, crouching down to be at his level. "Ciao, piccolo amico," he greeted, extending his hand. "What's your name?"

The boy told Charles his name, and as you stood back watching the interaction, you couldn't help but think how good he was his kids.

Even before you got married, you and Charles had talked about wanting a family together, but you agreed that would needed to wait until the time was right.

However, every time you saw him interact with little kids you couldn't help but feel what people called "baby fever" take over your body.

The little boy handed Charles his little Ferrari toy for him to sign, "Now it's even faster!" Charles said as he handed it back to him, "Would you like to meet my wife and our dog, Leo?"

"Yes, please!" the boy's ever grew even wider.

Charles beckoned you over, and you walked up with Leo trotting happily beside you. "Hii, this is Leo. Do you want to pet him?"you said warmly

The boy hesitated for a moment, then reached out tentatively. Leo, always friendly, wagged his tail and leaned into the boy's hand.

"He's so soft," he said, beaming up at you. "And he's got his own pass!"

"Yes, he does," you laughed, "He's a very special member of the team."

After taking a few pictures with Charles, the boy went back with his parents with a happy smile on his face.

"You're really good with kids, did you know that?" you said to Charles, feeling his arm wrap around your waist and pull you to him.

"I love being around kids," he caressed your cheek softly, "Little fans always make my day."

"You'll be such an amazing dad someday," you let out before you could even stop yourself, watching Charles' smile grow bigger at your words.

"Am I sensing some baby fever?" Charles teased, making you cover your face in embarrassment.

"It's not baby fever!" you protested and Charles gave you a raised eyebrow, "It's not!"

"Sure, sure," Charles chuckled, pulling you closer and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Leclerc."

"Don't tease me, it's true," he raised an eyebrow at you again, "Okay, maybe I'm getting a bit of baby fever, but we agreed to wait until the time is right and that's fine."

"I know, I know," he pulled you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head, "But honestly, I can't wait to have our own little ones to bring to the races. You'd be an amazing mom and Leo would be a big brother."

You threw your head back in laughter, pecking his lips softly, "That sounds like the dream."

"It does," he kissed your lips again, "Now, I have to get to work to make my wife and kid proud."

"Go do that, Leo will be cheering you on."

[lady-raziel]

idk man i know times are hard but i can't help but feel that watcher putting all their eggs in the basket that is their own streaming service is a bad call. like sure i totally get wanting a platform where you have full control both creatively and financially but i feel they might be misjudging how much loyalty non-hardcore fans might have for what they're creating. in every internet fandom there's a subsection of people willing to pay with actual money to support the creators they enjoy, and that's what services like patreon are for. but to expect that casual viewers will sign up and pay a monthly fee to get access to just watcher content when a large portion of them were likely just watching the content because it was free and accessible on youtube assumes that someone who isn't a diehard fan won't just go "oh well" and find something else on youtube that IS still free? that seems like a miscalculation to me. the massive fanbases online content creators have may literally be only possible because the content is available to anyone-- it seems foolish to assume that every single one of those fans is going to stick around once you try to upsell them.

i hope this new venture goes well for the watcher crew. I really do. but i also know that a lot of brands and startups that bank on the loyalty they earned when their product was free or low cost and expect that to sustain them while they try to do something that historically has not gone well for the vast majority of businesses. at best, they'll have halved their fanbase by alienating those who can't or don't want to pay and made it much more difficult for remaining fans to create fandom products like memes or gifs that promote their shows on social media. at worst, they'll discover in the near future the independent streaming service model is unsustainable with only the fans they have left and by that point they'll have already deleted themselves from youtube and made it impossible to come back to the level of success they had before. any attempt to return to youtube will be an admission of a critical miscalculation and i doubt many remaining fans will tolerate the back and forth. they'll have crippled their credibility, relevancy, and fanbase loyalty over a very short period of time-- and i don't know if it would even be possible to come back and still be beloved after all that.

worst of all-- if the watcher streaming service crashes and burns after they've already removed all their content from youtube, all the watcher shows are essentially going to become lost media, only accessible via reuploaders willing to risk a copy strike or if you know someone who has a copy downloaded. given how genuinely good the watcher content is in the sea of lackluster youtube mush, that really seems like a damn shame.

i hope the watcher team sees how everyone is responding and decides to course correct before it's too late and get away with only the hit to their reputation that they've already taken by announcing this, instead of pushing forward on a path that might lose them everything instead. nothing i've said here is with any hate intended toward anyone involved or those who are excited about the new service, but this just seems like a really ill-advised decision to me.

[goldfades]

FLIPPED──RAFE CAMERON

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for this request, for my baby jojo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | rafe is completely devoted to his pregnant wife, spoiling her endlessly and preparing for the arrival of their baby girl, who becomes the center of his world. after a life of feeling lost and disconnected, rafe finally finds purpose in his new family, vowing to protect and love them unconditionally.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x wife!reader

─ warnings | such a sweet, domestic bliss fic! rafe spoiling tf outta reader, rafe being a girl dad, mentions of toxic family, but other than that it's just so sweet.

─ ev's notes | the chokehold that gif has on me is... insane. also wheezie needs to be included more in fics like... shes so awesome (ik she hasnt done anything but thats kinda the point) ALSOOOO I NEED MORE DOMESTIC RAFE LIKEEEE, PLS SEND ME REQUESTS. i might do a part 2 for this fic cause it's so heartwarming i cannot

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

You’re lounging on the couch, wrapped in the softest cashmere blanket Rafe could find, a far cry from the one you had before. That one had been comfortable too, but Rafe never thought it was enough for you, not when his princess deserved the best. The soft hum of the air conditioner fills the house, the only sound in the otherwise still afternoon, while your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your growing belly.

Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you sink further into the cushions, feeling the quiet luxury that has come to define your life since you met Rafe. He’s out right now, picking up God knows what — probably more baby things, even though you already have a mountain of stuff piled high in the nursery.

He never does anything halfway. Every stroller, every onesie, every diaper cream has to be top-of-the-line, the best that money can buy. He doesn’t just spoil you, he suffocates you with care, but in the softest, sweetest way possible, so you don’t even mind. No, you love it, revel in it, feeling like you’ve been plucked straight out of one life and placed into another, where all you have to do is exist and be adored.

The front door clicks open, and you can feel his presence before you even see him. He’s always like that, larger than life even when he’s trying to be quiet. You sit up a little, trying to hide the way you’ve been lazily sprawled out, but he’s already at your side, his hands gently urging you back down.

“Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. His eyes flicker to your belly, then back to you, that familiar mixture of awe and protectiveness gleaming in his gaze. "I've got everything handled. You just need to rest."

You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you could've gotten up, could’ve helped him with the bags, but he’s already shaking his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he can read your thoughts before you even say a word.

"Not a chance." He sets the bags down, filled to the brim with things you know you'll never touch, because he’ll do everything for you. “You’re not lifting a finger. Not while I’m around.”

His voice, low and firm, sends a shiver down your spine, the kind of reassurance that only Rafe can offer. He crouches down beside the couch, running his hands over your legs, making sure you’re comfortable—like he always does. His touch is possessive, protective, the kind that says without words, you’re mine to take care of.

You let out a soft sigh, sinking back against the plush cushions as his hand glides up to rest gently on your belly, almost like a reflex now. You’ve noticed that since you started showing, his hands always find their way there. Like he has to be close, to make sure everything’s okay. He’s obsessed, really—your safety, your comfort, your every need. It’s like a switch flipped the moment he found out about the baby, and he hasn’t let you out of his sight since.

“Everything’s fine, Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reassure him, but the way his brow furrows ever so slightly tells you he doesn’t quite believe you. He’s always worrying.

“I know,” he replies, but there’s a tension in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s already thinking five steps ahead—about the doctor’s appointments, the vitamins, the nursery. He leans in, kissing the top of your head as his other hand gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “But you’re carrying our baby. I’m not taking any chances.”

You smile at his overprotectiveness. It used to overwhelm you at first, this all-consuming devotion, but now? Now it’s like second nature, the way he hovers, always making sure you’re not doing too much, that you’re not straining yourself. He’s like a human safety net, never more than a few feet away, always anticipating what you might need before you even know it yourself.

He stands and starts unpacking the bags he brought in—high-end baby gear, of course. Another designer bassinet, this one with extra features that make it look more like a spaceship than something an infant should sleep in. You watch him move around the room with purpose, his movements fluid and sure, as if orchestrating a plan only he’s privy to. He barely spares you a glance, but you know he’s hyper-aware of your presence, always keeping you in his peripheral vision.

“You didn’t have to get all this,” you murmur, though you already know the answer. You say it more out of habit now, like you need to put up some token resistance to the endless stream of gifts and gadgets.

“I know, but I wanted to,” he says without looking up, his tone casual, but you can hear the edge of finality in it. It’s the same way he talks about everything when it comes to you—like there’s no room for negotiation. “Only the best for you and the baby. You deserve it.”

He sets down the bassinet and moves back to you, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his hand immediately finding yours. He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, and you lean into him, letting yourself relax in the comfort of his presence. For all his intensity, there’s something so soothing about him when he’s like this—calm, focused, entirely devoted to making sure you’re taken care of.

“Rafe, really… I don’t need all this. I just—” You hesitate, biting your lip. You want to say that all you really need is him, that he’s already more than enough. But before you can finish, his lips brush against your temple, silencing your thoughts.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got everything.” His voice is gentle, but there’s an unshakable confidence behind it, the kind that makes you believe, even for a moment, that the world outside doesn’t exist. That as long as you’re in his orbit, nothing can touch you.

You glance over at the bassinet, the sleek, modern design standing out starkly against the warmth of the room. It’s absurd, really, how much Rafe is willing to spend, how nothing seems too extravagant when it comes to you. But that’s just him—lavish, obsessive, determined to give you a life where you never have to want for anything. And despite how overwhelming it can be sometimes, you can’t deny how intoxicating it is to be the center of someone’s universe like this.

“You think you’ll ever let me out of this house again?” you tease, half-joking, half-serious. He hasn’t exactly been keen on you going anywhere without him lately. Even the grocery store is off-limits unless he’s there to push the cart and carry the bags.

Rafe chuckles softly, but there’s a protective gleam in his eye. “Not until the baby’s here. And even then, only if I’m with you.” He’s only half-joking, and you both know it. The idea of you out in the world, vulnerable, without him by your side—it’s something he can’t stand.

You roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth that spreads through your chest is undeniable. It’s not like you want to go anywhere without him. Not really. The truth is, you’ve gotten used to this, the way he dotes on you, the way he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing in his life. It’s addictive, being adored like this.

“Fine, fine,” you say with a mock sigh of defeat, settling back against the pillows. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to being spoiled.”

Rafe’s smile widens, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, lingering. “Cause that’s not changing anytime soon.”

───

The moment he found he was having a girl, his world flipped upside down in the best way possible. The baby shower was small and private, only inviting your close friends and family. And for Rafe, he only invited Wheezie. He doesn't really have family or friends he'd want to be around—he only needs you, really.

Rafe never really had a family, not until he met you. Sarah was... well, Sarah. She used to be a part of his life, but they were worlds apart now, and Rafe had long since stopped trying to bridge the gap between them. She had her own life, her own people, and it didn’t overlap with his anymore. Rafe had always felt like an outsider in his own family, never really fitting in, never living up to what was expected of him. His father was distant, his mother gone, and his siblings—well, they weren’t exactly close.

But you? You were different. From the moment he met you, something shifted. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had something solid, something real. You gave him a reason to try, a reason to build something better than what he grew up with. He didn’t just want a family—he wanted your family. One that wasn’t broken or full of secrets and betrayals, but one where he could be the man he’d always hoped to be.

The moment he found out you were having a girl, everything inside him shifted. He wasn’t just Rafe Cameron anymore. He was going to be a father—a girl dad. The idea scared him at first, the weight of it hitting him harder than anything ever had. He wanted to be perfect for her, for both of you. He wanted to give his daughter everything he never had growing up: stability, love, safety. Things he never knew he craved until now.

The baby shower was intimate, just the way you liked it. Soft pastels draped the room, and delicate decorations hung from the ceiling, a far cry from the over-the-top events Kooks were known for. But that wasn’t you. And that’s why Rafe loved you. You made everything feel simple, real, stripping away the excess that had always suffocated him growing up.

Wheezie was there, of course, quiet and awkward as ever, but Rafe didn’t care. She was the only family he had left that mattered, the only one who hadn’t looked at him like he was too far gone, beyond saving. She wasn’t like Sarah, who had washed her hands of him long ago, or Ward, who saw him as nothing more than a disappointment.

As you sat in the corner, surrounded by a small group of friends, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were glowing—literally glowing, your skin radiant, your hands instinctively resting on your belly. You were laughing at something Wheezie said, but all he could think about was how surreal this all was. How he’d gotten here. From the chaos of his old life to this—a quiet, perfect moment.

Rafe didn’t need anyone else, not really. His friends? They were more like shadows of a life he’d left behind. Toxic, empty relationships that had never filled the void. But with you? He felt whole. He didn’t need the Outer Banks, the parties, the fake smiles and empty promises. All he needed was sitting right in front of him—his future, his family.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled, and just like that, the world shrank down to just the two of you. It always did. Everything else faded away when you were around. He crossed the room, ignoring the small talk and the laughter, his focus entirely on you.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, kneeling beside your chair, one hand instantly finding your belly like it always did. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning his head against it, closing his eyes for just a second to ground himself in the moment. “You good? Need anything?”

You shook your head, resting your hand on top of his. “I’m fine, Rafe. You don’t need to keep checking on me every five minutes.”

He huffed out a laugh, but there was no humor in it, just a soft kind of affection. “Can’t help it,” he said quietly, opening his eyes to look up at you. “I’ve gotta make sure my girls are okay.”

Your heart melted at that, at the way his entire face softened whenever he talked about you and the baby. Rafe Cameron—the guy everyone thought was a lost cause, a wreck waiting to happen—was now the most devoted man you’d ever met. He wasn’t perfect, far from it. But he tried—tried so damn hard for you.

“Everything’s perfect,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “And you’re spoiling me too much. Again.”

A mischievous grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not possible. I’ll spoil you both for the rest of my life if I have to.”

You laughed, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “You already are.”

He looked up at you, his eyes full of something soft, something vulnerable. “You know… I never thought I’d have this. A family. Not like this.”

You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “Well, now you do. And you’re going to be a great dad, Rafe.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes flickering with emotions he didn’t quite know how to put into words. But then he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, as if he were afraid to let go.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice thick with something unspoken. “I guess I do.”

And when his baby girl finally came, his world cracked open in ways he never thought possible. Everything changed in an instant—the noise of the hospital, the rush of doctors, the sterile white walls—all of it faded into the background the moment he saw her. Tiny, fragile, perfect. His heart seemed to stop and race at the same time as the nurse handed her to him, her soft whimpers breaking through the silence like a delicate melody.

Rafe had never known he could love something this much. Not until he was holding his daughter in his arms, her little fingers curling instinctively around his thumb, her eyes barely opening to reveal the softest hint of blue. In that moment, every bad decision he’d ever made, every reckless move, every mistake—it all faded away. Nothing mattered anymore except this.

She was his.

His chest felt tight, his throat constricting as he tried to wrap his head around it all. The weight of responsibility hit him like a wave, but it wasn’t fear that came with it. It was a sense of purpose, a deep, unshakable need to protect her, to give her everything. To never let her feel the kind of emptiness he’d grown up with.

You were lying in the bed, exhausted but glowing, watching him with a tired but content smile. Rafe caught your gaze and smiled back, tears threatening to spill over as he gently cradled your daughter against his chest, her tiny body fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, barely above a breath. He felt like he was holding the most precious thing in the world, something so delicate he was terrified of breaking her. But at the same time, he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

“She’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of warmth. “She’s ours.”

Rafe swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were quickly clouding his vision. His thumb gently brushed over the soft tufts of hair on his daughter’s head, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt.

“She’s more than perfect,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

You smiled gently, reaching out for his hand. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re doing it, Rafe. You’re already her father.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest. He’d never been sure if he’d be good enough for this, good enough for you, for the family you’d built together. But looking at his daughter, her tiny face so serene in his arms, he knew he’d never stop trying. He’d move mountains, tear down the sky, do anything and everything to keep her safe.

Rafe stood there for what felt like hours, rocking her gently as you dozed off, exhausted from labor. He couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter, couldn’t believe she was real. She had your nose, your delicate features, and he could already see hints of his own wild streak in her.

It terrified him, and yet it filled him with a pride he couldn’t put into words.

As she shifted slightly in his arms, letting out the tiniest yawn, Rafe felt his entire world center itself around her. His priorities had changed in an instant, everything he’d once thought was important—money, power, even his own survival—seemed so insignificant now. The only thing that mattered was the little girl sleeping soundly against his chest.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’m never letting you go. I promise.”

And in that moment, he meant it. Every word.

He didn’t need anything else—no approval from his family, no redemption from his past. He had you, and now he had her. His little family. A family that was his to protect, his to love, his to spoil with every fiber of his being.

Rafe knew he’d made mistakes—plenty of them—but as he held his daughter close, he made a silent vow to her. He’d be better. He’d always be better for her.

Because now, his world wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about her, about you. And for the first time in his life, he had something worth fighting for that didn’t come with strings attached or conditions. It was just love. Pure, overwhelming, unconditional love.

And Rafe Cameron was never going to let that go.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 1)

I cannot figure out for the life of me how to make gifs so this will have to be a gif-less essay. If anyone more tech savvy than me wants to reblog with relevant media, please do!

I've seen a lot of people saying how Aziraphale's actions in the final ten minutes come out of left field and are OOC, and when I first watched the episode I felt the same, but now I think I couldn't have been more wrong. And I don't think Aziraphale is being controlled... I think the entire season showed us exactly what was going to happen.

On first watch, what struck me was the number of plot points that seemed disconnected. I couldn't figure out how Job related to the present, or the Victorian era, or the Nazi zombies (still at sea on the zombies part tbh). I didn't know where the Maggie/ Nina subplot was going, or why we were bothering with it. Then I put my "psych hat" on and it was like seeing one of those 3D pictures come into focus. It's a psychological networking rather than a plot-driven one, which is what Neil told us to expect.

Detailed analysis under the cut, with spoilers:

I went back through the season in my head and started asking myself: why is this element there? What does it contribute?

1. Start with scene one. Why include it? Does it matter for the climax that Az knew Crowley as an angel? YES. It's actually huge. Angel Crowley was joyful, he was bursting with delight at creation, he was idealistic. He wanted to be a part of everything rather than run away from it, and that's still how Aziraphale feels. He loves being a part of things. He's a joiner. He's a landlord. He dances at clubs and he makes human friends and he learns magic. Crowley the demon doesn't seem to want any of that, and I think that's hard for Az. He wants Crowley to be free of the cynicism he thinks prevents him from enjoying life now. At some level, I think he senses that Crowley is depressed (empathy's not his strong suit but I'm sure he's aware that Crowley's in a "what's the point of it all" kind of mood; see the eccles cakes scene). He wants to fix it. Aziraphale is a fixer. Metatron offers him a chance to do that.

Another thing is that Aziraphale knows Crowley ended up Falling just for asking questions that seemed innocent. That's not okay with him. He thinks that with the two of them in charge they can actually MAKE the changes that Crowley wanted to see way back at the beginning, starting with a suggestion box.

2. Okay, now Jim. Obviously Gabriel/ Jim is the central mystery, but why does he matter? First and foremost: he's there to show Aziraphale that angels can CHANGE. Gabriel terrorized and threatened Aziraphale. Az has been terrified of him. He ordered Aziraphale's execution. And now here he is, drinking hot chocolate, doing noble self-sacrificing things, with morals that suddenly align with Aziraphale's. What an absolute game-changer that must have been! He thought Heaven was unfixable, but here's Gabriel in his shop for weeks, slowly convincing him otherwise.

Then two other things happen. First, they find out that this all happened to Gabriel essentially because he fell in love. He was fired and his memories were stolen and the only reason he recovered was because Beelzebub happened to give him the one thing that could save him. That must have seemed like incredible luck. Now, how does Aziraphale feel about memories? He lives in a bookshop that is stuffed to bursting with the records of all of human history, essentially. His memories of his time with Crowley are incredibly precious. He sees, there at the end, that everything he is can be taken from him as a punishment for falling in love. Aziraphale doesn't have a magic fly container. He'd be forever robbed of Crowley, his life, himself. It's a very real threat in his mind when Metatron intervenes.

Which brings us to the second thing. Metatron saves Gabriel. Not only that, he prevents him from being punished for loving Beelzebub and lets them both go. What better way to win currency with Aziraphale? HE doesn't want to go off to Alpha Centauri, he never has, but suddenly he sees that Metatron might protect his relationship. And he's probably the only entity with the power to do so.

So we come to two conclusions: Aziraphale, when he goes off to talk with Metatron, is feeling like maybe it's not intrinsically bad to be an angel. He believed all the angels sucked, and only God was good... but now he sees that even Gabriel can change. He met Muriel, and he likes them. (He also had a huge crush on angel Crowley, which is neither here nor there but he loves Crowley in all his forms.) So if Crowley became an angel again, would that really be so bad? In his mind, it wouldn't change who Crowley is. It would just make them both safer and allow them to be together. (He's wrong! And Crowley doesn't see it that way! But this is a key miscommunication. Aziraphale doesn't really believe that becoming a demon changed Crowley. Back to the first scene, which Aziraphale references during the Job minisode. In his eyes, Crowley is the same person (just more cynical because of what's happened to him)-- so why would it matter if he's an angel again? I truly don't think he was trying to save Crowley, or saying that Crowley would be Better as an angel. To him, it doesn't matter what Crowley is. Which is reductive and harmful, but not the same as thinking Crowley needs rescuing from himself.)

Second conclusion: he sees that an angel and demon can be in love, but they have to run away to be together. Gabe and Beelz couldn't go home again. Earth is Aziraphale's home, but after the attack on the bookshop he learned that without Heaven's protection he can't really keep them safe there. Metatron says: "Come with me, do this thing, and you can have guaranteed safety AND be with the love of your life". Poor Aziraphale wants this with every fiber of his being. All he's ever wanted was for Crowley to be safe. He's never been able to offer it. Over the past four years, he thought they were safe, but he's just learned that he was wrong.

This is getting long. Continued in Part Two!

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

library scene • episode 1

their expressions softening and smiles growing bigger as soon as their eyes meet. oh the effect of each other’s presence!!!

wille's staring contest and the lip bite while approaching give off so much confidence. he leans in for the kiss like it's all he's been waiting for - everyone is watching and yet he sees and cares about anyone anything but simon.

simon dives into the kiss just as quickly. it starts out as shyyy but you can see the tension easing through his body language.

it’s a second first kiss for them in a way bc it's their first public one: the thrill, the excitement, the butterflies - it's all there. for this huge step to come from wille makes it even more special.

it’s a super tender kiss, with simon’s hand ending up on wille’s chest. background noises fading away to enhance the sound of their lips is so on point: none of that truly matters bc in this moment it's - them.

first they kiss and then greet with a proper hej *giggling*.

lip biting is serious business in this scene. simon's shows a lot of embarrassment tho - he comes out of their own bubble and suddenly becomes very aware of people's chatter.

shoutout to felice and maddie in the background not giving a damn about it ahsjsj.

wille pulling simon by the hand in such a hurry is funny and so him. he literally says 'ok folks you've seen enough, i want him just for myself now'.

ugh i love parallels in this show sooo much. they alone tell the whole story!

same spot but different point in their relationship: so distant in s2 - both physically/emotionally - and couldn't be seen or heard so they were hyper attentive; deeply connected on all levels in s3 instead, the focus is solely on each other, reaching for comfort by holding hands. the coloring tells the same plot too: cold and dull tones first but much warmer ones in s3.

simon side eyeing the hallway but turning to wille is enough to reassure him and ease the discomfort.

hands intertwined with the key chain in such a ‘fuck 'em, this is about us’ way is a genius move.

wille’s whole posture is extremely relaxed - one arm behind his back, the other hand holding simon’s, his legs crossed. it’s a breath of fresh air to finally see him acting this loose and unbothered around people. he's also the one who helps simon feeling much more comfortable here too.

not much to point out, i just needed to gif simon’s bambi eyes and wilhelm being mesmerized by his face.

hela terminen's line delivery is honestly *chef’s kiss*. they care to keep their voices low throughout the scene and then -

i have a thing for height difference so this shot is everything to me. it's peak head over heels boyfriends behavior!

wilhelm is stronger than me bc i would've kissed simon right on the spot if he tilted his head up like that.

shhh they’re cuddling.

the forehead touch with closed eyes and content smiles. this is basically what i've always loved the most about them - the state of pure bliss they're in only when with each other.

simon's eyes on him while wille is still keeping his eyes closed, slowly pulling away, to enjoy the moment a little longer.

simon's attention directed towards wille and the linked hands. it must feel the best kind of weird to experience the freedom of doing couple-things publicly - people's scrutiny no longer being something they have to hide from.

[coldzonkprofessorturtle]

An Affair to Remember

Alright, let's get into Affair the Series, which has been giving me brainrot the past few weeks so feels like a good time to get into an analysis of why I find it so fascinating. Eventually I'd love to do a deeper dive into Thai GLs and that industry (that's a whole other thing though) but after having seen my share of them (Gap, Show Me Love, TSOU, The Loyal Pin) I've really found myself falling into the rabbit hole with Affair the Series and the way it depicts friendship, love, and acceptance.

Deep dive below and also thank you gif makers for your work 🙏🏽

(also will go over events from episodes 1-5, so spoilers ahead if not up-to-date)

So first off, I have read the novel, which is the first time I've finished one of those for a GL and quite frankly, the translation wasn't that great but the story still came through. I won't refer to it much and will base this on the show as I think they've done a fantastic job with the adaptation and fingers crossed continue to do so.

Where in most GLs the core conflict is external. The main couple can't be in love typically due to familial/cultural pressure or a man interfering (that still exists to an extent here) the main conflict in Affair is simply that Wan and Pleng love each other too much but they do so in different ways.

When we meet Wan and Pleng they're 17 years old and have spent their entire lives together. They're sisters but not and while Wan seems to have a social circle, Pleng really has no other friends outside of Wan. The spoiled rich girl and the maid's daughter. Couldn't be more different if they tried and yet by circumstance their lives are as intertwined as it gets.

At 17, they have different ideas for their futures. Pleng is musically talented, wins every contest and is financially set. She can live the life she wants. If she wants to be a musician then so be it. Her parents love and support her and there's no pressure. Wan on the other hand has an overbearing mother (and a resentful father), no prospects for her future but at least she has Pleng.

Despite her parents, Wan loves wholly and openly. She knows she loves Pleng and while she doesn't yet know it she does know that Pleng loves her too. I would argue that Wan truly knows herself, which is why she comes across as so self-assured in their younger years. She's slowly trying to guide Pleng to understand herself too.

Pleng, however, has never had to sit with her emotions in the same way. Take this as differences of personality, class and upbringing. Now that they're 17 and entering adulthood, Pleng has to start engaging with the world (and her emotions) rather than hiding behind the rich, insular lifestyle she's had up to this point.

As the idea of boyfriends comes up, Pleng starts to lash out. She's jealous, she's pushy but really she's just in love with her best friend and doesn't know it. Everything starts happening too fast. Wan meets a boy at an art gallery, Aunt Wi pushes Pleng to help Wan get with Ek, Pleng's dad is extremely stressed and she doesn't know to what extent and throughout that Pleng is dealing with her feelings that for some reason just won't go away. Feelings that Wan keeps bringing up in her over and over.

Pleng is a mess. She doesn't know how to connect with her peers, she knows something is wrong with her dad, she sees that Wan is seemingly moving forward in a way that she's not (dating a boy) and whether she realizes it she continues to isolate herself.

From Wan's perspective she couldn't care less about dating Ek. She's already completely devoted to Pleng (in ways that Pleng doesn't even know).

They're 17, hormonal, gay, and incapable of seeing each other's perspective. Wan wants Pleng to let her in. Pleng can't help but push everyone away.

As soon as Pleng starts to really come to terms with her feelings about Wan. That's when everything falls apart. Her dad kills himself, her mom goes into cardiac arrest, all of her family's assets are seized and she's now orphaned and staying with Wan's parents who clearly and vocally have no space for her. Pleng who was already struggling to find her footing before that fateful night now has absolutely nothing to stand on.

The break point is when Pleng finds out about Wan's academic achievements and that Wan had been hiding that truth about herself their entire lives. Wan has always been intelligent and capable but hidden herself behind a veil of ineptitude. Wan in loving Pleng puts her on a pedestal to her own detriment. She has no issue blighting her own light so that Pleng can shine but from the moment we meet 17 year old Pleng in the show we see her pushing Wan to better herself. Wan thinks loving Pleng means her own success doesn't matter whereas Pleng loves Wan and all of her potential.

They both love each selflessly but while Wan would burn the whole world to keep Pleng warm, Pleng loves Wan despite her own existence. So when Pleng leaves she writes,

"Your parents will feel at ease. And you'll finally get to live your life as your true self... I know you love me but I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are."

For Pleng, her leaving is the ultimate way to show her love to Wan. A clean break. She runs away so Wan can thrive but here's the thing Wan needs Pleng to keep her grounded. Pleng does too but she can't see it at this point. Too much has happened and so, in her desperation she removes herself. She is her father's daughter after all.

So when 13 years pass and Wan has spent that entire time holding on to whatever she can to keep herself close to Pleng (becoming a doctor, riding a bike to work, marrying Ek, separating herself from her parents); Pleng has become a ghost of herself. Wan has imbued herself with all the things she thinks/knows Pleng would like while Pleng is stuck in a cycle that she can't get out of: play music, make a bit of money, pay rent, rest, repeat.

Pleng never reaches out to Wan because why would she? Her loving Wan means staying away and on top of that there's a sense of shame of what her life has become.

So when they finally meet again it's too much. Wan is successful but she's still clearly in love with Pleng and while it was all Wan's doing, in a way her success is a direct result of Pleng's influence. In removing herself, Pleng slowly begins to realize not just that she took Wan's smile with her but the why and how. Wan's changed and devoid of the joy and innocence that Pleng loved most.

They slowly fall back into their natural rhythms but Pleng still can't accept her own presence in Wan's life. Wan is back to pushing (albeit more aggressively then before - time was wasted) and in pushing Pleng, Pleng pushes back. If they take their relationship that one step further, what then? What if it falls apart? Why not just stay in a cycle where nothing shifts? What if there's another ringing shot in the distance and everything changes in a moment?

If there's one core trauma to Pleng as a character it's her desperation to not feel like a burden to anyone. Especially Wan. And then she finds out that Wan (though separated) is still married to Ek and she can't accept that she could have ruined Wan's potential happiness. Not understanding that Pleng herself is Wan's happiness. Pleng feels like a disruption because at the root of it the thing she wanted above all for Wan, "I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are" is not something that Pleng accepts for herself.

I'll leave it there and hope the show navigates the situations that are about to come as well as they have so far but kudos as Affair manages to oh so gracefully skirt what could otherwise be an incredibly toxic relationship. Somehow they manage to give these two characters so much grace despite their flaws. And truly that's also a huge credit to Sonya and Lookmhee's abilities.

It's chaotic and messy but in coming back together these two might just realize that's how they both best shine.

[nozunhinged]

Okay okay okaaaayyyyy I swear I also have smart thoughts that are NOT related to boys artistically smashing on screen BUT korntonkla in 4 minutes is such a prime example of plot driven intimacy if not THE prime example in all of the BL I've watched so far. We all know mystery and timejumps and how they are done well and visuals we need to look for but when it comes to physical intimacy as a plot device everything suddenly goes to shit so here I am.

I'm going to explain why korntonklas scene was the perfect way to establish their relationship and how this is so, so, much more than just a "NC scene" (btw I HATE this acronym with a passion), it's an essential part of the story that cannot be left out.

But I do understand it's not everyone's cup of tea so I am going to seize screenshots or GIFs but plssssss keep reading the scene deserves it! Even more if you've skipped it!

Ok now with the disclaimers out of the way, let's talk about Korn and tonkla.

The flow of their scene was absolutely perfect from start to finish and not a single second was wasted. Their sugar relationship is established immediately with the topic of work as the center. Thanks to that we learn what their relationship is in the first place, which purpose it serves korn and what that says about him. His sweet words are the turning point to shift the focus on tonkla. They are too sweet, almost cheesy, they're empty and meaningless but we watch tonkla eating them up like candy and the stage is set for the exploration of their dynamic.

Tonklas way of rewarding these words, which brings us the iconic bareback moment.

Tonkla turns from cute and confident to incredibly needy the moment the heat turns up and we understand in a split second that he wants more from his daddy than just his dick. He wants his trust, a true connection, the level a relationship could potentially reach and his only chance in their current setting to articulate that is by yeah, asking if Korn could go in raw.

And how he doesn't even say no, he just rips the condom open.

Oh boy no dialogue in the world could replace THAT, I'm telling you. Now we know he uses his power in this moment to cover up his cowardice and acts like the one whos in control. I have a feeling this way of dealing with things will bite him in the ass later.

Meanwhile tonkla just takes everything he could get. And if that wasn't enough to let us know what's going on here, we double down with a round of helping tonkla cum.

That makes him look generous and loving and of course it would make tonklan even happier because that's (unfortunately) not the norm. Another way of covering up his uuh...let's call it mediocre performance.

But in tonklas eyes, he's so lucky to have him. Korns knows he has to take good care of his puppy if he wants to keep him. How do we learn that? Well in their afterglow all tonkla does is cling to Korn to bask in every moment he gets with him while Korn is completely out of it, visibly enjoying his stress relief.

And let's be real here, he may have jerked his boy off but dude held it for like 10 seconds before he busted whimpering like a damn loser no amount of money makes you this happy in the way tonkla is clinging to him. Puppy is down bad.

The conclusion of it all—the make out scene before they get interrupted—is the cherry on top, now we know how their dymanic works and how it functions in the overall story. Chefs kiss, I'm telling you.

I could go on how many plot points we've established in this one intimate scene but this is already too long uuuugh.

Korn and his relationship with tonkla painted a perfect picture of his character and the issues he has and will have to deal with and I'm telling you there was NO BETTER WAY to establish than with this scene.

And I haven't even touched on the natural movements of the actors, the realistic flow of things that make everything so palpable, tiny details like Korn holding his dick after he lubed it up. It's not relevant to the plot but makes the intented plot points SHINE because you don't stumble over clunky or unrealistic execution and can concentrate on what's happening with the characters UGHHHHHH SO GOOD!!!

Man that's A+ direction and I'm in absolute awe.

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Reader)

All Chapters List

Chapter 9: The Rage (+18 MDNI Smut)

GIF -- manny-jacinto

"Aut inveniam viam aut faciam.”

I shall either find a way or make one.

H.

“Can I just ask where we're going so early?” You asked Marcus that morning.

“Patience, my lady."

After you woke up, while you were lying on the bed, resting your head on his chest, he told you that he had something he wanted to show you, before you had even had a chance to eat breakfast. You were even more surprised when Marcus grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the courtyard of the villa, towards the stables. The slaves were feeding the horses their morning meal, and the horses were consuming their food with growls and much appetite. It was breakfast time for the chickens in the hen house as well. Decima was feeding them, saw you from a distance, ceased her work and bowed to you. You could tell from her smile that she was aware of everything that was going on. You noticed that you had never set foot on this side of the villa before. The General had specifically instructed them not to tire you out when you were here as his slave, so you had never had any work to do out here. You smiled as you recalling those times. Remembering, how you had shied away from him at first, but then how you had fallen in love with him as you came to know his softer side day by day.

A slave brought Marcus's horse Dromos from the stables, and Marcus grabbed his reins with a big, beaming smile. Dromos whinnied, and Marcus stroked his face, chuckling. There was a special bond between them that went beyond the typical horse-and-rider relationship. While you were admiring them, Marcus looked at you, pulled the reins, and stepped towards you, holding his hand out warmly.

"My lady, I believe you remember Dromos."

"Indeed I do, how are you Dromos?" You took Marcus's hand and stroked the horse's neck with the other.

He lifted one leg and stamped his hoof and whinnied. You smiled, his warm furry skin was soothing.

"It seems he missed you." Marcus smiled and then looked at something behind you. "Now, we've got some riding to do," he said, straightening Dromos' saddle.

You nodded and approached the horse, but Marcus gently touched your arm to stop you. You looked at him in surprise. He looked at the other side of the stables and pointed with his finger.

‘Your horse is over there,’ he said.

You turned your head slightly and saw Cato first. He was making his way towards you with a horse that was particularly striking, with white hair that shone like satin in the sunlight. The horse lifted its head and let out a soft whinny as its white mane blew gently in the breeze. As it drew closer, its gaze turned towards you, and you were struck by its undeniable beauty. Although you were not particularly knowledgeable about horses, you could say that this snow-white animal was not your typical equine. It seemed to have been meticulously selected. With some hesitation, you reached out and gently stroked the horse's neck, running your fingers through its lustrous pearl-white mane. There was a captivating elegance in this magnificent creature.

“She's beautiful,” you murmured.

“A rare one, just like my beautiful wife,” Marcus said, his eyes meeting yours as he approached. He was smiling warmly. He put his fingers right next to yours. The white horse lifted one of its hind legs, hit it on the ground, and moved a little as if it wanted you to ride on it.

“Bridal gift for you, I didn't have a chance to introduce you two before. Are you pleased?”

You gazed at him and found yourself once more swept up in your feelings for him. His charms were undeniable. With each passing day, your love for him deepens. You wondered how he managed to make you feel this way.

“Marcus, this is the best gift I've ever received in my life. I am immensely grateful." You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He put his arms around you.

“I am more grateful, my love." He gave you a little kiss on the top of your head. “Besides, you need to learn to ride by yourself.” He stroked your hair with his fingers. “Do you feel ready to ride together with me?”

You nodded, “Yes, but I'm not that good. I only rode once or twice back then in Egypt.”

“You'll learn in time. Now I want you to place your foot in the stirrup and mount by yourself. Can you do it?”

You put your foot in the stirrup as he said and looked at him. The horse moved a little, which made you stagger.

"Just make sure it's firm, then grab the saddle and climb up."

You grabbed the saddle and pulled yourself up as hard as you could, then settled down. However, the horse moved and you leaned forward to grasp the reins, your head close to her mane, feeling the wind on your cheeks. You probably looked a bit strange.

Marcus let out a chuckle. “Make sure you're sitting up straight and in control. Keep a firm grip on the reins.”

“But, she’s moving too much, she's not staying still, I'm afraid of falling.” You complained.

“Then you need to calm her down. Give her a gentle pat on the neck with your hand and reassure her by gripping the reins firmly. She needs to know you're in control.”

When you did as he said, you saw that the horse had calmed down, so you gathered your courage, sat up straight, grabbed the reins with both hands and gave them a little tug. It felt great to be in control, and you smiled at Marcus.

"I did it!"

"You haven't even started riding yet, princess."

Your smile faded. "Oh, right. How am I supposed to do that?"

Marcus laughed. "Gently squeeze the horse's ribcage with the calves of your legs to cue her to move forward.”

Your body tensed up a bit as the horse moved forward, but you quickly regained your composure and excitement replaced your fear. It was a great feeling. The horse kept on going, so you turned your head to look at him, but Marcus was already mounted on his horse and came towards you.

“Well done, my lady.” He smirked. “Come now, pick up the pace, follow my lead,” Marcus gripped the reins tighter and gave Dromos a little pat on the rump, and the horse started to gallop. As the distance between you and Marcus increased, you did the same, and with the sudden burst of speed, you swayed, your heart pounding. The wind was blowing your hair and caressing your face, which felt amazing.

“Marcus! Wait for me!" You called out to him, and he looked back at you with that childish smile on his face. It was clear he was enjoying himself, and you were no exception. You felt the same sense of exhilaration riding with him. There is no feeling in the world that can compare to the freedom you experience when traveling on horseback through the trees.

"My Lady! We're nearly there!" Marcus pointed up the hill a little later. Since you had learned to control it, you pulled the reins in the direction you wanted to go and stroked her belly a little and she immediately fulfilled your wishes. You smiled, pleased with yourself. As if you had won a victory. Marcus slowed his horse and circled the area he had indicated, waiting for you. You pulled the reins firmly and your horse neighed, lifted its legs slightly, and stopped. Marcus looked satisfied.

“You are a quick learner, princess.” He said, dismounting and leading Dromos to a nearby tree.

“I think she likes me too,” you said, sliding your leg over her back to dismount and jumping down.

“Would you perhaps like to name her?” Marcus stepped towards you.

“Yes, I was thinking, um. Since she’s so pure and white, I'd like to call her Unio (pearl).”

He nodded. “Clever, well suited,” He then grabbed Unio's reins and tied them to the same tree.

You became aware of the river at the bottom of the hill. It was the Tiber. Just ahead, you could discern the silhouette of the great city, which appeared to be quite beautiful. Also, It was a delight to behold the enormous structure from a distance once more, as you set foot on the very ground from which you had previously observed it from the balcony of the Domus Severiana.

Marcus approached behind you and wrapped his arms around you, placing his head on your shoulder.

“This is where I come every night and think of you looking up there.”

You turned your head towards him. He was pointing to the Domus Severiana.

“Every night?”

“That's true.’ His lips hovered over your cheekbone, his eyelashes caressed your forehead.

“So was I, looking out from the balcony, trying to make out the villa in the distance and thinking of you.”

He smiled mischievously as he brought his lips closer to yours. “Were you thinking about that blissful night we had too? Those intense moments? Did you desire me as much as I desired you?” He purred, tightened his arms just below your breasts, and pushed them slowly upwards.

Your cheeks flushed and you slapped his shoulder. "Marcus." You whined.

"There's no need to feel ashamed, my love," he said pressing his lips to yours and kissing them lovingly. Then he pulled back. "You must be hungry," he said, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to sit among the flowers in the meadow. As you looked at him curiously, he turned around and walked back to his horse. He opened the saddlebag. Then stepped towards you with a bundle in his hand.

“Have you brought breakfast for us?” You shot him a look. He sat down next to you, undid the bundle's knot, and took out a loaf of bread and some fruit.

“I told them to prepare it yesterday. Come, have some, you need strength.” He fed you a piece of bread. Then he put his arm around you.

“What do I need strength for?”

“For your training.’’

You swallowed your bite and frowned. “Training?”

He smiled, “Yes."

“So you're pretty adamant about this?”

“I am.” His look was determined indeed.

Once you had eaten enough, Marcus took you by the hand and lifted you up.

"I had something made for you," he said, reaching for the holster on his waist.

"Another present?"

Marcus was holding a scabbard, but it was smaller than a pugio. He crouched down beside you. You flinched when he lifted the hem of your dress and touched your leg.

“What are you doing?” You tried to pull your leg back, but his hand was so strong you couldn't even move it.

“Stay still.” He was tying it a little above your ankle. It was strange to feel the leather fabric on your skin. You moved your leg as Marcus stood up after finishing. You lifted the hem of your dress to observe the scabbard. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was a little uncomfortable. Seemed like an irrelevant accessory on your ankle.

“Is that a dagger?” You wailed.

“Not exactly, a small knife. I thought you could use it until we get to pugio.”

You lifted and lowered your leg, it was a strange feeling.

“Try pulling it out of its sheath.” His voice was almost commanding.

Marcus the romantic was gone and Acacius the General was here.

You did as he said, grasped the handle of the dagger, and pulled it out of its sheath, a little slowly. Why was it so difficult?

Marcus put both hands on his waist. “Do you think your enemy will wait for you to draw your knife?”

You rolled your eyes. “I'm a medicus, remember? Are you telling me to cut people with this?”

“Cut if you have to, then cure if you wish.” He said with a stubborn temperament.

You laughed, but he didn't. Wasn't it a joke?

“Now hold it out and attack me.”

You opened your eyes wide. “What? Marcus, I can’t.”

“I said do it, Aurelia.”

“What if I hurt you?”

Marcus let out a little laugh, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Don't worry, my lady. You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to. But you need to learn how to use your knife. Now, attack.”

You did as he said and lunged forward, holding the knife with one hand and making a slashing motion.

He rolled his eyes. “Strike with more power, think of it as having all your strength in your arm.”

You nodded and tried again. Marcus was not satisfied, and inhaled deeply. “The advantage of a short, small knife is that you can change direction more quickly.” He said and grabbed your hand holding the knife and supported your shoulder from behind with his other hand. “But if you have a target to focus on, you should do it like this.” He said and made your knife-holding hand make a fast-forward attack that almost made you stumble. “Like this.” Then he had you take the knife in your other hand. "Then this way." He had you make another attack, this time with a fast-cutting motion. “One, two, three.” Then he had you make a stabbing attack, and he tugged your wrist forward, but his wrist was so strong you stumbled again. Then he stepped back and stood in front of you, spreading his arms. “Now try to attack me once more.”

You raised your arm with determination, but also a hint of hesitation, to attack him. However, he was quick to evade your attack with ease, and you found yourself almost colliding with a nearby tree. You took a moment to collect yourself and then turned to face him.

“Try attacking again.” He said decisively.

This time you lunged at him with all your determination, but he grabbed your wrist and spun you around, almost without moving, and before you knew it, he pulled you towards him, your back slamming into his chest, your knife right next to your neck. His hand was gripping your wrist so tightly it was impossible to move it. You felt his lips on your head, you tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn't let you. “Try a little harder, princess,” he murmured and released you. Then he faced you again, his expression serious as he looked down at your legs.

“Spread your legs properly.” He ordered.

You obey.

“Suck your stomach.”

You breathed deeply and tried to stand up straight.

“Now try it again.”

You did the cutting motions he had just shown you, but for some reason, he still wasn't satisfied. He closed his eyelids tightly and sighed deeply. 

“Why is this so hard,” he muttered. He came over and snatched the knife from your hand and stepped backward. "Watch, how I do it."

He held the knife ready for the attack and skilfully made the same slashing motions as before, coming up beside you. "Do it like this."

His expression was so serious you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Spread your legs, suck your stomach, do it like this," you said, imitating his voice and movements. As you laughed again, his expression softened and he began laughing too.

“You found it quite funny, my lady?”

You were still laughing. “Yes, it was very funny.”

He grinned and extended his hand to you. " I think that's enough for today. Could you lift your dress up so I can put it back."

You took a step backward. "No way, I don't want that sharp thing on my leg." You said it in a slightly joking tone.

He narrowed his eyes and took a step towards you. You took another step back in response.

"I said lift your dress up." His voice was stern and commanding, but his expression was mocking.

‘What if I don't?’ You took a few more steps backward as he was coming towards you.

"Then I'll have to force you to do it."

“Try,” you said, turning on your heel and striding off with a laugh.

Marcus grinned. “As if I can't catch you easily,” he said and started running after you. As you ran as fast as you could across the meadow, he was chasing you.

“You must surrender before you trip and fall, Aurelia!” His voice echoed across the meadow.

"No way, General!" You continued to run, this time you turned the other way, but Marcus was faster. He grabbed you from behind with his strong arms and you giggled and struggled with all your strength. He deliberately let you both fall, and you rolled among the flowers in the meadow. One more roll, you were lying on the ground with Marcus on top of you, gasping for breath. You looked up at him and saw that he was laughing as you were. "I told you I'd find you wherever you ran, my lady," he said and bent his head down and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your fingers through his hair as Marcus' hand grazed the fabric of your dress sliding it up your leg. You broke the kiss and looked at him in surprise.

"What are you-"

"Easy," he said, and he grabbed your leg, lifted it up, and sheathed the knife. Then he kissed your knee and looked at you.

"Promise me you'll carry this knife when I'm not around." His expression was stern, the kind you couldn't argue with.

You nodded. “I promise.”

He uttered a soft, tender murmur as his fingers stroked your hair. "I truly hope that you never have to use it." Then he kissed you again, with greater intensity this time, conveying the emotion he was feeling to you through his lips. All of sudden, you heard the sound of a pipe echoing in the distance, and he broke the kiss. It seemed to you that the sound of the drums and pipes preceded the public announcement. You both turned your heads in that direction, it sounded more like a murmur through the meadow.

“It must be almost time for the game to start,” Marcus muttered.

You let out a sigh. “I really don't want to go,” you whined, glancing at the silhouette of the Colosseum.

Marcus turned his head towards you and helped you sit down. “I don't want to provide Caracalla with another reason to summon you.”

“You're right, I think I can bear it with you by my side,” you said, brushing his hair with your fingers to remove grass particles.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “As long as I'm with you, you don't have to worry about anything, my love.”

You nodded. Then he stood up and held out his hand to you. “We should head home and prepare to get going.”

As you and Marcus were traveling to the Colosseum, the crowds were gathering in that direction. There was a great deal of discussion about Gaius and his treachery. You could hear people talking about him and his fate with great enthusiasm. The carriage stopped in front of the stairs, and you and Marcus got out. As you ascended the stairs together, those who recognised you greeted you, and you responded by saluting them with a raised hand. The members of the Senate were also making their way up the stairs at a brisk pace, each of them turning around to greet you with a kind smile. It would be fair to say that you were the most talked about married couple in Rome. While holding Marcus' hand, you made your way to the imperial tribune together, where you observed that Geta and Caracalla had already arrived and taken their seats. Caracalla gave you a brief glance and turned his attention back to the arena. He and Marcus exchanged glances as Geta stood up and waited for you to sit next to him. Marcus greeted them and moved to sit next to your seat. However, as soon as he pulled you close, Geta reached out and hugged you, but Marcus was determined to keep hold of your hand. You found yourself stumbled between the two of them.

“Sister, you're here.” He looked at Marcus's hand gripping yours and grinned. “Come now, take a seat, it's almost time.”

Marcus's expression was stern as he pulled you close, made sure you sat down and then settled down next to you. He had no intention of letting go of your hand, and you were perfectly comfortable with it. Geta turned around and called Macrinus, who had just arrived. For some reason he looked happy. You didn't like it. His usual cheerful mood usually puts you in a tense one. Marcus probably felt the same. He bowed to you and took his seat. Geta and Caracalla seemed to be in high spirits and excited as usual, probably because it was their favourite moment. They stood up, and greeted the crowd as the announcer announced the game. Then stepped back and took their seats. Geta leaned towards you. “Ready to see the tigers, sister?”

You pouted your lips and shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm so thrilled. Look, my palms are all sweaty.” He showed you his palms with a wide smile, you pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Good for you,” you said sarcastically. "I do wonder, though, if all this preparation is really for the purpose of making our cousin lunch for the tigers.”

Geta laughed. “No, that would be sooo boring. Macrinus has brought new gladiators, you will see them soon. Today's games will be slightly different from the others. It has been a while since we have seen warriors fighting dangerous animals.”

‘Gaius isn't a warrior,’ you muttered.

‘No, he's just a bait. Here we gooo,’ he said with clapping his hands, as the drums began to beat. The announcer threw up his arms and the crowd fell silent.

“People of Rooome! Who do you cheer for? The barbarian warriors who have come here today, risking their lives, are they worthy of your praise? Or do you cheer for the fearless gladiators who have embraced death? Or do you cheer for the fierce, dangerous tigers?”

The crowd roared, their voices growing louder with each mention of the tigers.

“Or for the execution of a traitor? The day of judgment has come. Our Emperors and yours must pass judgment on this traitor!”

The crowd was now cheering loudly in approval. One of the iron gates opened and Gaius was forced into the arena by the guards, who prodded him with spears. Geta stood up and gestured to one of the guards. The guard handed him a pugio. Then Geta called out to Gaius, "Hey, Gaius the traitor, take this. I don't want it to end quickly!"

He hurled it down the bleachers at him. Caracalla immediately checked to see where it had fallen. "That fool will die before he gets to it," he said, laughing. And the other gates opened, accompanied by the beating of drums and the sound of trumpets.

The barbarians stormed the arena, five of them, some with shields and spears, others with crossbows. The crowd cheered with gusto, and Geta and Caracalla applauded. Then the gladiators entered the arena, three of them, with shields and swords, one of them wearing a galea (helmet). Geta and Caracalla clapped even louder. The gladiators gave their customary salute to the emperors and gathered among themselves. Gaius still hadn't got the pugio, and Caracalla gave him a lot of abuse. He was stuck between two groups of warriors, but he was determined to get to the pugio. It was going to be tough. In that dusty, sandy field, everyone was each other's enemy.

"Let it begin!" Caracalla shouted firmly. The drums beat louder and the crowd roared. Tension and Thriller filled the air. Marcus stroked your hand with his thumb and smiled at you. Then he swiftly turned his gaze to the game. You were curious as to why the tigers still hadn't appeared. Geta and Caracalla knew what they were doing. They must have a good plan. The barbarians and gladiators charged at Gaius simultaneously. Gaius was about to take the pugio when a trapdoor opened in the sandy ground and a huge tiger came roaring out of nowhere. Gaius jumped back, but in his fright, he lost his footing and fell to the ground.

“Oh, he'll die so soon.” Geta whined.

“He's boring, as usual.” Caracalla agreed.

They laughed together.

The gladiators reached Gaius first and pulled him back. You looked at Geta. He winked at you, "I told you. Different kind of fight."

Marcus leaned in close to your ear. “Part of the game,” he explained.

It didn't take long to see how dangerous a game this was. While the barbarians and gladiators fought each other, Gaius was played like a toy right in the centre. One of the two groups of warriors was going to throw him to the tigers, but not before giving him a good thrashing on the sandy ground. As soon as the other tiger emerged from the subterranean floor onto the sandy ground directly opposite the other, the barbarians turned on the gladiators. One of them kicked one of the gladiators and plunged his sword into his neck, blood gushing from his throat and splattering the sandy floor like wine red. The violence was overwhelming. You would never get used to this. Gaius tried to run away, taking advantage of the clash of the two groups, but one of the barbarians kicked him in the thigh and pushed him into a tiger. Geta jumped to his feet, and Caracalla had already run to the balustrade.

"Eat him!" Geta clapped his hands excitedly.

Caracalla laughed loudly and madly.

You closed your eyes and squeezed your eyelids tight. The crowd was clearly excited and your half-brothers were shouting with joy. It was obvious that the tiger was eating his lunch. Marcus took your hand in both of his and stroked it. You were grateful he was there because you would have fainted at the sight of this savagery.

“Did you hear his bones crunching?” Geta looked at you and laughed.

When you rolled your eyes, he twisted his lips. "Come now, sister, didn't you watch Gaius' vile body crumble between that animal’s teeth?"

“I think I've seen enough,” you muttered.

“I'm sure you enjoyed it too, you hide it well though.” Caracalla grinned.

You forced a smile in response.

“What do you reckon? Two gladiators left.” Geta asked him.

'The barbarians don't stand a chance.’

“Hmm. I'd like to hear your opinion, Acacius.” Geta demanded.

You three turned your heads to Marcus.

“I agree with Emperor Caracalla. These barbarians are attacking recklessly and without thinking.” He answered without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the gladiators, and you found yourself wondering what he was thinking.

After a while, when the barbarians were down to two, you realised Marcus was right.

“Aaaahh, two on two! Thrilling!” Geta clapped his hands excitedly.

“I told you, the gladiators will take them easily.”

“The game's not over yet, brother.”

Indeed it wasn't, as the tigers struggled to break free from their chains, the barbarians, seeing an opportunity, took advantage of the tigers as hiding behind them to launch an attack on the gladiators with bolts, hitting one in the arm. However, this was a risky move, tigers, despite being bound by thick iron chains, retained a great deal of mobility. One of the gladiators, wearing a galea, managed to remove the bolt from his arm and picked up his spear, which he then threw at one of the tigers. The spear pierced the animal's throat with a single thrust, and it collapsed with a great groan of pain. You felt your chest hurt. Despite it is a deadly predator, it was an animal torn from its natural environment and was forced to fight there.

Geta pursed his lips, “I can't believe how you died so easily, you stupid animal.”

“There's still one left, brother.”

You found their conversation somewhat callous and wished for the game to end soon. You felt a longing to leave this place and return home with your husband.

The gladiator made a swift and decisive move, leaping from the lifeless body of the tiger and engaging in a sword fight with the barbarian. The other tiger let out a roar that echoed throughout the arena, accompanied by the sounds of the clash. As the other two of them fought each other, the tiger touched its claw lightly on the other gladiator's leg, but it was enough to cause significant injury. The man staggered backwards, the pain intense and shocking, and before he could recover, the other barbarian slashed his neck with his sword. The tiger lunged at him, but the chain and soldiers holding him down prevented him from attacking. Geta narrowed his eyes.

“Aaah, now it's two on one!”

“I knew it!” Caracalla clapped his hands in excitement.

The gladiator did not hesitate to engage with the barbarians, swiftly cutting the other one's arm before they could bring their sword down on him. This move seemed familiar to you for a reason. Marcus muttered something, and you knew he was thinking the same as you. You weren't trying to learn something about fighting. You had seen this gladiator fight before. You looked at Geta and Caracalla, then at Macrinus. He smiled meaningfully at you. That was him, that gladiator. The gladiator who injured Marcus' arm in a fight with him last time, and whose life was spared by him. But why?

Marcus muttered, "His movements have improved, but he still doesn't have enough use of his wrist.'

"Why is he here to fight again?"

Marcus looked at you. "There are many answers to that, my guess is rage.”

‘Rage?’

He fixed his gaze on the gladiator who had vanquished one of the barbarians, intensifying the fervour of the crowd. “His eyes are filled with nothing but rage. He battles using it, and when he triumphs, he believes it is because he is strong. However, it hinders his ability to think rationally, and it appears that defeat has made him even more relentless. This is indisputable proof that he is not basing his actions on logic.”

He turned his head back to him and saw that the gladiator had cut down the last barbarian. The crowd was whistling and cheering him on as he raised his arms. Geta and Caracalla were also applauding. Caracalla raised his arms. "And here is our champion! Take off that galea so we can see your face!”

The gladiator obeyed and removed his galea. He was looking at Marcus as he greeted you all. That made you feel very uncomfortable. Marcus squinted at him.

“What a fight.” Geta took his seat, and Caracalla sat next to him.

“This is the part I hate the most, the moment when the fight ends.” Caracalla mumbled.

“You're joining the banquet tonight, aren't you?” Geta asked you.

And you were just about to answer him when, in the blink of an eye, a bolt came out of nowhere and stuck between you and Marcus, just through his seat. You felt your heart leap into your throat. It was so close to you that you could almost hear the sound of it swooshing. While Geta and Caracalla let out screams of panic, Marcus flinched backward. First, his brown eyes locked on you, and then he turned his gaze in the direction of the bolt. You just held your breath, still in shock. Marcus was filled with an incredible rage, jumped to his feet. You pulled yourself together and turned in the direction he was facing. Geta grabbed your shoulders.

“Sister! Are you alright?”

You nodded, your eyes fixed on Marcus. The gladiator was grinning down at you, crossbow in hand, as if trying to enrage Marcus even more. Geta and Caracalla stood up to look at him.

“As a champion, I challenge General Acacius!”

Caracalla burst out laughing. Geta clapped his hands and turned to Marcus.

“You should have killed him last time, Acacius.”

Marcus locked eyes with him, and you could have sworn he'd killed him so many times with his deadly gaze. You gripped his hand in both of yours.

He already knew what you were going to say. He turned to you, his eyes sharp and unblinking. “I'll tear him to pieces.”

“We support you, General Acacius!” Geta cheered.

“You must learn to speak for yourself,” Caracalla complained.

You ignored them, your eyes locked on Marcus'. All your tormenting fears had returned.

“Aren't you going to punish him? That bolt could have hit me or you!” You said Geta.

“He knew exactly where he was shooting it, my sister,” Caracalla said arrogantly.

Geta shook his head. “He challenged the General, and being a man of honor, he must fight. Please make sure you kill him this time, won't you?”

As the crowd watched the General with curious murmurs, you were looking at him with teary eyes. He had already reached a decision at the moment the bolt pierced his seat. He withdrew his hand from between yours, removed the bolt with some force, and approached the balustrade, raising his hand and regarding the gladiator.

"I, Marcus Acacius, accept your challenge." He raised his hand. "I shall ensure that you regret shooting this!"

As the crowd began to cheer wildly, you could feel your heart pounding fast. As Marcus turned to face you and looked into your eyes for the last time, you decided to support him instead of being afraid. He needed it.

“You beat him once, I'm sure you'll beat him again, my love.”

His brown eyes sparkled as he heard those words coming from your mouth, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it.

"I will, my lady." He smiled and strode out, passing between the senators' seats and heading down to the lowest level of the Colosseum. Macrinus and you locked eyes as you looked him up and down with a look of pure defiance on your face. He was smiling at you with that disturbing smile, you squinted at him. You were almost certain he had planned this on purpose. Geta put his arm around you and sat you down.

“Oh, it's going to be so exciting. He's going to kill him for sure this time. The tension is so high!”

“But this time a tiger is there too,” Caracalla said.

“So? The general has fought with animals before. He even cut the lion in two in front of our eyes. I'm sure he'll be able to beat the tiger too,” Geta winked at your worried face.

“Really?” You asked curiously, you heard that before but thought it was just a rumor.

Geta chuckled, “I wish you were here with us to witness that moment, sister. It was quite something.”

“I have absolutely no regrets brother.” You hissed. After all, you never would want to see Marcus before a lion.

Your eyes moved between the tiger and the gladiator. While you were praying to Jupiter, the iron door swung open accompanied by drums. You and your brothers sprang to your feet. Marcus was in his armour and looking at the gladiator as he walked into the arena with his sword in hand. The crowd roared and ranged his name out. He went over to the gladiator and they both saluted the Emperors. You saw Marcus's half-smile and you smiled back in return. It was always tough seeing him there. The more fearlessly he fought, the more you worried. It was like a special kind of torture for you.

The game began on Geta's and Caracalla's commands, and you realised that your breathing was already becoming irregular. The gladiator with a smile, approached the tiger, Marcus followed at a distance, as if he understood what the gladiator was up to.The tiger roared, the gladiator made the first move, lunging towards Marcus with his blood-soaked sword in hand. It was a failed attempt; Marcus stepped aside. However, he managed to get a little closer to the tiger. Marcus took a step back as the animal let out a roar, and the gladiator swung a spear at him but missed. When you saw Marcus so close to the tiger, it made you feel so nervous.

The gladiator stepped back as Marcus walked over to him, looking angry. Even from a distance, you could tell what he was thinking. His sword gave off a faint glow as he thrust it at him. The gladiator fought back with his own sword. As the clash of swords echoed around the arena, the tiger moved in to attack them both. Marcus resisted with all his might as the gladiator thrust his sword repeatedly, pushing Marcus towards the tiger. The gladiator let out a growl and tried again, quickly, strongly and determinedly.

But this time, Marcus was more angry than ever. He couldn't stop thinking about the bolt that had been shot at him. In that short time, he didn't worried about himself, but worried about you. In his perspective, the bolt he'd shot had stuck in his seat, right next to you. This attack on him and his wife in his presence will not go unpunished. He was going to get revenge for sure, even if it meant he'd die in the end. Marcus roared and lunged forward with his sword, which glinted in the sunlight, driving it into the gladiator's chest. The man stumbled back but recovered quickly. If he hadn't been wearing his iron armor, he would have been cut in half. They just stared at each other for a while and then Marcus made the first move. He wanted to end this game as soon as possible and make sure his opponent was dead. He brought his sword down with all his might, screaming at him, but the man blocked his attack with his sword. They were making kind of animalistic sounds now, harmonised with the sound of the tiger. During the struggle, the gladiator resisted the General's deadly pressure. Then the urge to pull out his knife and plunge it into Marcus' exposed leg with a decisive and powerful thrust. Although Marcus had been expecting this, he was unable to prevent the knife from cutting him and let out a cry of pain. You leaped to your feet and screamed, covering your mouth with your hands. Geta and Caracalla leaned forward with excitement. You watched him rush towards Marcus, who fell to the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the sand and threw it at the tiger, creating a cloud of dust that surrounded them. The crowd fell silent for a moment, and then you forgot to breathe as they shouted excitedly again. Geta jumped to his feet and Caracalla grunted. Geta, realising that your body was shaking, grabbed your shoulders and you both breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the dust cleared and you saw the sword Marcus had plunged into the tiger's throat.

Marcus barely threw himself backward as the tiger's fangs snapped open and closed right next to his beautiful face. His sword remained lodged in the animal's neck and soon the tiger's lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The gladiator lunged at Marcus with his sword while he was down. Marcus swiftly grabbed the spear from the ground and shielded himself. As the sword and spear clashed, a deafening sound reverberated through the arena. Marcus was determined not to let go of the spear he was holding and, despite the blood flowing from his leg, he tripped the gladiator's foot and knocked him to the ground. He immediately got up and tried to stand, leaning on the spear. The gladiator cursed as he got up and Marcus threw his pugio at him. If you had been right next to them in the arena, you would have heard the sharp sound of the pugio cutting the wind.

Caracalla returned Geta's grin with one of his own, and Geta laughed with joy. You soon came to know what had happened as you realised Marcus' pugio lodged in the gladiator's throat. As the gladiator tried to remove the dagger from his throat, Marcus advanced on him and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down. The gladiator had only moments left, but Marcus was not to be appeased. He picked up a crossbow from ground, set a bolt in place, readying the crossbow to be shot – the very same crossbow the gladiator had used – aimed right above the gladiator's face. The crowd of the Colosseum was on its feet, eager to see what the General was about to do. Geta and Caracalla extended their arms forward, and Marcus turned his head in that direction.

The emperors turned their thumbs down, and Marcus's face hardened into a grim smile. He aimed the crossbow directly at the gladiator's head again and pulled the trigger. The crowd roared and cheered again, their approval loud and clear. They all chanted Marcus's name over and over. But your eyes were fixed on the bright red liquid leaking from his calf down his leg, soaking his sandals. You turned to run to him, but Geta grasped your arm.

“Where are you going?”

“To my husband,” you said, pushing his arm away.

‘We shall head together," he said, turning to Caracalla. ‘Weren't you the one who wanted to see the tiger up close?’

Caracalla laughed. “Yes, I want one of his teeth,” he said firmly, holding up a finger to the guard next to him. The guard nodded.

“I want the claw,” Geta said, putting his arm around your neck as you both walked.

Macrinus approached Caracalla and spoke in a low voice, then excused himself and left in a hurry.  The guards accompanied you as you headed towards the iron gate situated just below the imperial tribune. As you made your way down the stairs, the announcer proclaimed the names of the emperors, and the crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers.

You slipped out of Geta's arm and rushed towards Marcus. Two soldiers were with him, tending to his wounds, and when they saw you, they stopped and bowed. You immediately put your hands out to look at his leg. It was deep, and you looked at Marcus with concern. But he smiled.

“General Acacius, our esteemed champion who has a proven track record of success.” Geta applauded him.

“The tiger almost made you lunch, Acacius,” Caracalla said, laughing.

Marcus forced a smile and walked over to the tiger, pulling his sword from its throat with a swift movement. He raised the sword as he approached the emperor, the air filled with the scent of rusty iron as a few drops of blood fell to the ground.

Your half-brothers tensed, and the guards moved to a defensive position to protect them. The crowd began to mutter. You looked at Marcus, curious about his intention. His face was expressionless, but his eyes spoke volumes.

“My emperors, I wonder if you are aware of the number of lives lost in the process of taking these animals out of their natural habitat and bringing them here to Rome and the Colosseum. I have to say that ten of my men have lost their lives in this endeavour. They were Roman citizens, and they served you loyally. Ten good men who cannot easily be replaced.”

You didn't expect this, and you pleased that Marcus brought this truth to their attention. However, they didn't seem to care.

“After all they died to serve Rome, didn't they?” Caracalla smiled arrogantly. Geta remained silent, his eyes roaming over the tiger's dust and blood-covered body.

“Yes, they did, to serve Rome. But that is not the kind of death they deserve, is it?”

“I think he heard about the rhino, brother.” Geta muttered.

"Ah, now I see. You're concerned that a few soldiers might be lost again."

"Rhino?" You looked at them in surprise.

“You don't mention the details to your wife, do you, General?” Geta laughed.

Marcus ignored him. “As I mentioned, bringing a tiger here is a big waste in terms of manpower and also costs a lot of the Rome's resources. I can't even think about a rhino.” He drove his sword into the ground with a sharp thrust. “Rome has so many subjects, she must feed them.” Marcus's tone was stern.

Caracalla took Marcus' sword in his hand and pointed it at him. You gasped and took a step forward.

“They can eat war, General.”

Geta smiled and seemed to agree with him. Caracalla raised his arms and pointed at the crowd.

“Just look at them. They're all watching with great interest. They're all pretty pleased with themselves. They're having as much fun as we are.”

“Yes, but what about the people living in the alleys?” You said suddenly and walked over to them.

Caracalla looked annoyed.

“Do you really think all citizens are coming here? There are lots of people in the alleyways who are going starving, and many of them are children. I had the chance to see them recently. The situation is pretty dire."

You looked at Marcus out of the corner of your eye and saw that he was looking at you.

"Enough! Don't you ever dare to collaborate with your husband and order me around!"

Geta looked at you with a warning gaze, then turned to his brother. "Never mind them, brother, I want to see the tiger," he said and strode off in that direction. Caracalla gave you both a menacing look before turned and stepped towards his brother.

Marcus approached you. "You didn't need to get involved."

"Is it wrong to defend my husband?"

He smiled, "No, of course not, my lady, but the longer you don't confront him, the better."

Then he touched his calf and groaned.

"Marcus, your wound needs to be treated now!" You put your arm around his waist and called out the soldiers.

Marcus insisted you pull your arm back, and they led their general inside. Before leaving, you turned to look at your brothers, who were excitedly observing the tiger and laughing as if they were playing with a new shiny toy. You rolled your eyes and sighed, then turned towards the iron gate and followed your husband inside.

By the time you arrived at the villa, the sun had bathed Rome in its golden light, preparing to say goodbye. Marcus' cut on his calf was deep but not severe. It would take a week or two to heal. The slaves in the villa were taken aback to see Marcus returning, armoured and bruised, after an unexpected fight. As Marcus' body was covered in dust and dirt, you ordered Tullia to prepare the bath immediately upon entering the courtyard. You both ascended the stairs heading to your room, Marcus seemed to be struggling with each step. You helped him remove his armour and other items. Then he watched you with interest as you took off your palla and stola.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," you said, smiling at him.

"Let me," he said, reaching for the bracelets on your wrists.

This had become a daily routine: you helping Marcus take off or put on his armour while he helped you with your dress. He liked to undress you more, though.

Once he'd taken off your bracelets and necklace and put them on his desk, you wanted to take a look at his wound. You noticed that the bandage had turned red, so you quickly crouched down on the floor next to his leg and unwrapped it.

"We need to clean around the wound and wrap it tighter."

You were concerned, but he wasn't really. Your face was right next to his crotch, and your warm breath on his skin made things worse. Marcus's heartbeat quickened as you picked up a clean cloth and came back to him. You were so worried and focused on his wound that you didn't notice his eyes looking at you with desire.

You cleaned the wound meticulously, wrapped it. "You're stronger, so wrap it tightly." You said.

As you rose to your feet, Marcus stopped you by grasping your shoulder and lowering you back to your knees. You looked at him with confusion, and saw the familiar intensity in his dark brown eyes, and then saw the length of him growing under his burgundy tunic.

“But why-“

It was a silly question.

“Because of you,” he grinned. “Desires you,” he said, cupping you under the chin with his hand and bringing your face close to his crotch.

Your cheeks flushed red and you swallowed hard.

“I wish to feel your lips around me,” his thumb hovered over your lips. “And your sweet tongue,” he leaned his head down and kissed you on the lips. After breaking the kiss he looked into your eyes, “Will you give your husband what he desires?”

You were ready to do anything for him, but this was a new and strange thing for you. He's your husband. You should please him as he pleased you, you thought to yourself.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. "If that's what you desire," you said, your voice smooth and confident, and grasped the hem of his tunic, lifting it. You were ready. You bit your lower lip as you looked at his glorious length. You had imagined him in your mouth before, but from this angle, he looked big. Marcus sensed your nervousness and took your hand, guiding it over him so that you could grasp his length.

You tentatively took his length in one hand and stroked it a few times, noting that it was already hard between your fingers and that a drop of precum was forming at the tip. You leaned in and gave him a little lick, just to see what it would feel like. It was warm, salty, musky. You let your tongue trail around the ridge of his crown. He exhaled in a low, raspy tone through his nose. You smiled, hearing his low moans gave you confidence. You lowered his throbbing length into your mouth, which was stretched open as far as it could go and still only just fit around him. Your tongue flicked over his more sensitive spot, while your hands worked over the base, kneading it gently. He shuddered in delight. Then, all of a sudden, he thrust deep into your throat.

“Mmmff!” Your voice was muffled, and he felt your gag reflex vibrating against the sensitive skin of his length.

"Look at me, my love,” he purred. You obey immediately. “You are enjoying that are you not?" He hissed cheekily through a struggled breath.

You hum in response and he jolts at the vibration of your mouth around his throbbing length. You continue to suck him and you look directly up into his eyes innocently for a moment which sends him right to the edge, the way you are looking up at him sweetly and seductively but so naughtily, your long eyelashes fluttering everytime the tip of him hits the back of your throat. The yellowish sun light streaming through the window lit up your hair, illuminating the strands of gold and copper that flowed over your shoulders. He grabbed your hair in his fists and yanked. But you liked it.

“So beautiful,” he pants.

He pulls back before thrusting forward again, balls-deep in your mouth, coming inside you, taking you by surprise. You swallow on instinct, surprised that it was really sweet. He touches your cheek, wiping away a few drops with his finger, and you look up at him shyly.

“Gods, you have enchanted me body and soul, I love you,” He purred and held your jaw in both his hands, pulling you off him and you frown a little at the loss of him inside your mouth.

But he did it to pull you into his arms in a hurry, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he kissed you passionately. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up, pushing the things off his desk and making you sit. You were too busy to care about the sound of the ink bottle falling to the floor and the papers flying around. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, pushed your head back and broke the kiss to catch your breath. Your eyes met and you saw the fire of desire in his eyes. You blinked and swallowed, reacting the same way every time. He grinned at you the same way, and it never seemed to get old.

“I must have you. Now.” The rough timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine.

Her insistent and impatient fingers peeled the fabric of your tunic down your shoulders. The fabric gathered around your waist. His burning lips met yours again, his strong hands gripped your hips once more and pulled you to the edge of the desk. His hands caressed your knees down to your ankles and pulled the fabric of your dress up. In one swift movement he removed his tunic and threw it to the floor. When he turned to you, looking at you like a hungry wolf and your heart began to pound faster. Your mouths met again, and in an instant, you were lost in an all-consuming kiss. You push your hips forward against his crotch and suddenly aware of how hard and big he has again become in such a short time. You admire his heaving chest and all his muscles and his scars. You lean up to touch his chest and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He slides inside you with a sudden movement, your walls clenching instinctively at the excitement of this new position. He moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss, grabs your hips with both hands, pulls out and thrusts deeper. You tilt your head back and try to breathe. He grabs your jaw gently and makes you face him. “I want you to watch me,” he whispered.

You had to learn to adapt to his behaviour, as it was a recurring habit of his, but you still felt that your shyness was holding you back. In contrast to you, he rarely closed his eyes, only when he was nearing the end. He usually prefers to watch you, he values eye contact greatly, as if he doesn't want to miss any moment of this precious moment with you. Probably because he was a very passionate man, filled with pure desire. “Marcus…” You moan his name as your walls clench around him so hard that he groans. Wave after wave you crash into him. Your arms are below his, but wrapped around him and your nails dig further into his back. You think you hurt him when he hisses but he smirks and all it does is make him chase after you with his own climax. At that moment, you feel he was spilling, filling every inch of you, licks and sucks even bite your chin meanwhile. He continues to thrust and the wet sound of him releasing more and more inside you is music to your ears as he rides out the remaining waves of your climax. Finally he slows down and stops, breathing heavily. Both of you enjoying the moment between, admiring how you're almost naked on his desk and he's just had you there. He pulled out slowly, smiled as he enjoys the sight of you. Then run his fingers through his hair, wiped the sweat from his brow and foreground, and took a moment to catch his breath.

“My lady.” He held out his hand, offering to help you to your feet. You slowly get up, thighs together, still holding on to him. He leaned in a little closer to tuck your messy hair behind your ears.

“I believe the best time for a bath is at this very moment.” He grinned. "Shall we?”

In the Balneum, while you were rubbing Marcus's shoulders and cleansing him of the grime of the sandy, dusty surroundings of the arena, he was very quiet. He appeared to be lost in thought. Perhaps he was tired, you thought. The exertion in the arena, the struggle to survive, and dealing with your brothers must have been exhausting for him. However, the feeling of being deprived of his voice was becoming unbearable.

“You know, you could tell me,” you said softly, breaking Marcus's thoughts.

“Hmm?”

You rested your head on his shoulder from behind, your cheeks lightly touching his.

“It must have hurt you, losing those men of yours. You don't have to carry that burden on your shoulders alone. As your wife, you can share it with me.” You kissed his neck right on the jugular vein.

Marcus turned his head to you, his beard brushing your nose. “How fortunate man I am that the Gods have blessed me with you?”

He turned and pulled you towards him, slipping his arms under your shoulders and thighs as he did so, and pulled you into the water beside him. Your giggles were accompanied by the splashing sound of the hot water and echoed through the marble walls of the balneum.

Marcus kissed you gently on the lips, tenderly, adoringly. He pulled back and smiled, gathering your wet hair on one side of your neck. “My beautiful princess, you know I would do anything for you, don't you?”

You ran your fingers along the line of his lips as your head rested on the arm he had wrapped around you from behind.

“With all my heart, I know, General,” you murmured.

"I hope you will be reassured that from this moment on, I will do everything I can for you and for Rome." His gaze sharpened and his expression became serious, as if he was making a vow. Your fingers traced the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

"You sound like you might be about to do something soon?”

His eyes dropped to your wet hair. 'I only wanted to make sure you know that.'

You got a strange feeling all over, and his expression was unlike anything you'd ever seen. And it lasted all night. Even when you were lying in bed together, holding you in his arms and kissing you on the lips, it felt different.

You found it difficult to get to sleep because you were troubled by a peculiar sensation that persisted throughout the night. As soon as you opened your eyes in the morning, you felt a shiver, but it wasn't because your hair was still damp. The sensation you always felt first thing in the morning was missing, the comforting warmth of an arm around you and its owner. Your hand instinctively went to the other side of the bed, you felt the sheet with the back of your hand. It was cold. Usually, it was warm.

You sat up in bed and looked around. He was gone. His armour and other belongings were nowhere to be seen. You got out of bed, shivering, your chest hurting. This room hadn't felt so warm in his absence. However, there was no change in the air temperature, everything must be the same. But it wasn't. Nothing was the same without him. You found yourself wishing that this morning, which had begun inauspiciously, was a dream. However, when you were once again confronted with the feelings you had experienced the night before you decided to leave the room. As if running away.

As you descended the stairs, you saw Norell walking in the courtyard with a tray. You called out to her, and she turned to face you.

“Where is the General?”

Tullia came up to her and mumbled something. You hurried down the stairs and walked over to them. Why didn't they answer you?

“Where's my husband?” Your voice was louder than you wanted it to be.

Tullia came closer to you, her eyes uncertain.

"My lady, the general left early this morning."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know, but he's probably off to the barracks."

"He's never left this early before. Surely he said something?"

Tullia opened her eyes wide. "How dare I ask him questions, my lady?"

You frowned. You felt like she was hiding something from you, but you couldn't be sure what. After she excused herself and left, Decima saw you and walked towards you.

“My lady,' she greeted you. "Your eyes are a little sunken. Are you alright?"

“I don't- I don't feel well,” your voice trembled.

"Please, take a seat." She held your hand and kindly guided you to sit on the armchair.

You sat and sighed deeply. Decima sat next to you. From the look in her eyes, you sensed that she was aware of something and wanted to share it with you.

"Sir Octavius arrived at dawn. Whatever he said to the general, he quickly dressed and left. I thought you knew."

You placed your head in your hands and groaned at the headache you felt.

"I must have fallen into a deep sleep around that time because I couldn't sleep properly at night."

“I’ll bring your breakfast," she said and rose to her feet, but you reached for her arm and prevented her from doing so.

"That is unnecessary. I would prefer to rest in the room until the General arrives.”

However, he did not return that evening or the following day.

The minutes seemed to drag on, each one a painful torture. When the waiting became unbearable, you decided to leave the villa one evening. You needed to find him and see why he wasn’t coming back.  As you had promised him, you wrapped the small knife Marcus gave you around your ankle, put on your black cloak and left the room. Decima spotted you and ran to you, reaching out to take your hand on the stairs, but you pushed her hand away.

Tullia and Norell and even the other slaves ran to you, all of them concerned.

"Domina! Please don't leave at this hour." Tullia pleaded.

“Master will be back eventually, please be patient." Norell reached out to take your other hand but you pulled it back. The others also begged, making you even angrier.

You raised your hand. “Enough!" Your voice, loud, echoed through the courtyard. Mau, startled from her slumber, leapt up, jumped down and ran behind the fountain. They were taken aback and fell silent. Their kind and soft Domina was gone. You turned your head, strode purposefully out of the courtyard. As soon as you came out, saw Cato and Octavius there which surprised you.

“My lady,” Cato ran to you.

You looked at Octavius.

“Where is my husband?”

“My lady, I cannot allow you to leave, please go back inside.”

You approached him frowning. “I asked you a question, Sir Octavius!” It was the first time you had raised your voice to Octavius, who had always been kind to you. He startled and tensed a little.

Tullia, Norell and Decima were watching you anxiously from the doorway of the courtyard.

Octavius bowed his head. "The General has a mission to complete, he has ordered me to stay here and protect you until he returns. You must understand, your safety is paramount."

You opened your eyes wide. "Mission? I want to know exactly what you mean by that."

Octavius' expression was hesitant. You approached him. “Sir, please, I need to know where he is."

He frowned, didn't answer.

"Or is it about my brothers?"

He remained silent, still no answer. You were getting more and more angry.

“If it's an important mission, why are you here? Aren't you his right-hand man?”

“I am, but this is his direct order.”

“Tell me at once what the General's mission is.”

After some thought, he looked at you.

“The General said. If he fails…" Octavius could hardly speak. You swallowed, sensing you wouldn't be pleased with what you were about to hear. “He said that I must protect you with my life, no matter what.”

Your throat got dry. “Octavius, tell me where he is.” Your voice was shaking.

You imagine he was as displeased with the order he had been given, and as worried as you were. His expression became more resolute. “Sir Macrinus. We have been considering various strategies for some time now to ensure a successful outcome. Two days ago, when we became aware that he was departing for Libya, we devised a plan to launch an attack just outside the capital this morning. The general was keen to proceed with minimal disruption and with a few man.”

“Macrinus is no fool. He could very well be outnumbered.”

“That's a possibility,” Octavius stated.

The wave of anxiety had taken over your whole body, Marcus' words echoed in your head. 'For you and for Rome.'

“Cato! Get my horse here at once!” You ordered. He looked surprised at first but nodded and trotted off towards the stables when you looked at him angrily.

“My Lady, but-“

You turned to Octavius. “Lead the way.”

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