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golden42 · 4 months ago

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Lazy Loading Page Speed Optimization: Efficient Practices & Tips

Key Takeaways

Lazy loading can significantly improve page speed by loading only necessary content initially, reducing initial load times.

Implementing lazy loading can save bandwidth, which is crucial for users on limited data plans.

This technique enhances user experience by ensuring faster interactions and smoother scrolling.

SEO can benefit from lazy loading as search engines prefer faster websites, potentially improving rankings.

To effectively implement lazy loading, use browser-native features and ensure compatibility across different devices.

Enhancing Web Performance with Lazy Loading

In today's fast-paced digital world, web performance is more critical than ever. Slow websites can drive users away, impacting engagement and conversions. One powerful technique to boost performance is lazy loading. By understanding and implementing lazy loading, you can optimize your website's speed and efficiency, keeping your visitors engaged and satisfied.

Understanding the Need for Speed

Users expect websites to load quickly and efficiently.

Slow loading times can lead to higher bounce rates.

Improved speed enhances user satisfaction and retention.

Most importantly, speed is not just a luxury; it's a necessity. Users are increasingly impatient, and a delay of even a few seconds can cause them to abandon your site. Therefore, ensuring that your site loads swiftly is crucial for maintaining user interest and engagement.

Lazy loading offers a solution by optimizing the loading process. Instead of loading every element of a page at once, lazy loading prioritizes essential content and defers non-essential elements. This approach can make a dramatic difference in how quickly your site feels to users.

Lazy Loading: A Game Changer for Web Efficiency

Lazy loading is more than just a buzzword; it's a transformative technique for web optimization. By deferring the loading of non-essential elements, such as images and videos, until they are needed, lazy loading reduces the initial load time of a webpage.

Images and videos load only when they enter the viewport.

Reduces server requests, enhancing page speed.

Particularly beneficial for mobile users with limited bandwidth.

Besides that, lazy loading helps in conserving resources, which is particularly beneficial for mobile users who might be on limited data plans. By only loading what's necessary, users experience faster interactions and smoother scrolling, which can significantly improve their overall experience.

Eager Loading: When Immediate Isn't Ideal

Eager loading, the opposite of lazy loading, involves loading all page elements at once. While this approach might seem straightforward, it can lead to longer initial load times, especially on content-heavy pages. Therefore, eager loading is not always the best choice, particularly when dealing with large images or videos.

Lazy loading, on the other hand, ensures that your website delivers essential content swiftly, making it an ideal choice for optimizing page speed and improving user experience.

Benefits of Lazy Loading

Lazy loading isn't just about speed; it's about creating a seamless and efficient user experience. Let's delve into the various benefits it offers.

Faster Initial Load Times

By loading only the necessary elements initially, lazy loading significantly reduces the time it takes for a page to become interactive. Users can start engaging with the content almost immediately, without waiting for all elements to load.

This immediate engagement is crucial in retaining user interest. For instance, if your homepage loads quickly, users are more likely to explore further, increasing the chances of conversion.

Additionally, faster load times can have a positive impact on your website's bounce rate. Users are less likely to leave if they don't have to wait for content to load, which can improve your site's overall performance metrics.

Loading Images Efficiently

Images often account for the majority of a webpage's load time. By implementing lazy loading for images, you can significantly improve your page speed. This involves loading images only when they are about to enter the viewport. As a result, users won't have to wait for all images to load before they can interact with your content.

To do this effectively, you can use the loading="lazy" attribute in your image tags. This attribute tells the browser to defer loading the image until it is close to being visible. Additionally, consider using responsive image techniques to serve different image sizes based on the user's device, further optimizing load times.

Handling Videos and Media Content

Videos and other media content can be resource-intensive, causing significant delays in load times if not managed properly. Lazy loading can also be applied to these elements. By embedding videos with lazy loading techniques, you ensure they only load when a user scrolls to them.

For example, instead of directly embedding a video, use a thumbnail image with a play button overlay. When the user clicks the play button, the video loads and plays. This not only saves bandwidth but also improves the initial loading speed of the page.

JavaScript and CSS Deferred Loading

JavaScript and CSS files are essential for modern web applications, but they can also be a bottleneck if not handled correctly. Lazy loading these resources involves deferring their loading until they are needed. This can be achieved using the defer and async attributes for JavaScript files.

The defer attribute ensures that the script is executed after the HTML document has been parsed, while the async attribute allows the script to be executed as soon as it's available. For CSS, consider using media queries to load stylesheets conditionally based on the user's device or viewport size.

Tips for Optimizing Lazy Loading

Implementing lazy loading is just the beginning. To truly optimize your website's performance, follow these additional tips and best practices.

Use Browser Native Features

Modern browsers offer native support for lazy loading, making it easier than ever to implement this technique. By using native features, you can ensure compatibility and reduce the need for third-party libraries, which can add unnecessary overhead.

To take advantage of these features, simply add the loading="lazy" attribute to your image and iframe tags. This simple addition can have a significant impact on your page speed, especially for image-heavy sites.

Besides, using native features ensures that your site remains future-proof, as browsers continue to enhance their support for lazy loading and other performance optimizations.

Minimize Default Image Size

Before applying lazy loading, it's crucial to optimize your images for size. Large images can still slow down load times, even with lazy loading. Use image compression tools to reduce file sizes without sacrificing quality.

Optimize Animations

Animations can enhance user experience, but they can also impact performance if not optimized. Use CSS animations instead of JavaScript whenever possible, as they are more efficient and can be hardware-accelerated by the browser.

Ensure that animations are smooth and don't cause layout shifts, which can negatively affect user experience. Test your animations on different devices to ensure they perform well across the board.

Remember, the goal is to create a seamless experience for your users. By optimizing animations, you can enhance the visual appeal of your site without compromising performance.

Test Across Multiple Devices

It's essential to test your website on a variety of devices and screen sizes. What works well on a desktop might not perform the same on a mobile device. Use tools like Google PageSpeed Insights to analyze your site's performance and identify areas for improvement.

Regular testing ensures that your lazy loading implementation works as intended across different platforms, providing a consistent experience for all users.

Overcoming Common Lazy Loading Challenges

While lazy loading offers numerous benefits, it's not without its challenges. Addressing these issues ensures that your implementation is successful and doesn't negatively impact your site.

Dealing with SEO Concerns

Lazy loading can sometimes interfere with search engine indexing if not implemented correctly. To ensure your content is indexed, use server-side rendering or provide fallbacks for search engines that may not execute JavaScript. For more insights, check out how lazy loading decreases load time and increases engagement.

Ensure all critical content is available without JavaScript.

Use structured data to help search engines understand your content.

Regularly monitor your site's indexing status in Google Search Console.

These strategies help maintain your site's visibility in search engine results, ensuring that lazy loading doesn't negatively impact your SEO efforts.

Addressing Browser Compatibility Issues

While most modern browsers support lazy loading, some older versions may not. To ensure compatibility, consider using a polyfill or fallback solutions for browsers that don't support lazy loading natively.

By addressing these compatibility issues, you can provide a consistent experience for all users, regardless of their browser choice. Regularly updating your site and testing on different browsers can help you identify and resolve any issues that arise.

Troubleshooting Loading Delays

Even with lazy loading implemented, you might encounter loading delays. This often happens when elements are not optimized or when there are too many third-party scripts running on your site. To troubleshoot these issues, start by identifying the elements that are causing delays. Use tools like Google Chrome's Developer Tools to pinpoint these elements and analyze their loading times.

Once you've identified the culprits, consider compressing images, deferring non-essential scripts, and minimizing the use of third-party plugins. By doing so, you can significantly reduce loading times and improve the overall performance of your website.

The Future of Lazy Loading in Web Development

Lazy loading is set to become an integral part of web development as websites continue to grow in complexity and size. With the increasing demand for faster and more efficient websites, lazy loading offers a practical solution to enhance user experience without compromising on content richness.

"Lazy loading is not just a trend; it's a necessity for modern web development. As websites evolve, so do the techniques we use to optimize them."

As more developers recognize the benefits of lazy loading, we can expect to see advancements in browser support and new tools that make implementation even easier. This evolution will ensure that lazy loading remains a vital component of web optimization strategies.

Emerging Technologies that Support Lazy Loading

Several emerging technologies are poised to enhance lazy loading capabilities. For instance, progressive web apps (PWAs) and server-side rendering (SSR) can work alongside lazy loading to deliver content more efficiently. PWAs offer offline capabilities and faster load times, while SSR ensures that content is rendered on the server, reducing the load on the client's device.

Additionally, advances in artificial intelligence and machine learning could further optimize lazy loading by predicting user behavior and preloading content accordingly. These technologies have the potential to revolutionize how we approach web performance optimization.

The Growing Importance of Mobile Optimization

As mobile usage continues to rise, optimizing websites for mobile devices has become more critical than ever. Lazy loading plays a crucial role in this optimization by reducing data usage and improving load times on mobile networks.

By implementing lazy loading, you can ensure that your mobile users have a seamless experience, regardless of their network conditions. This is particularly important for users in regions with slower internet speeds, where every byte counts.

Frequently Asked Questions

Lazy loading is a powerful tool, but it can also raise questions for those unfamiliar with its implementation. Here are some common questions and answers to help you better understand lazy loading and its impact on your website.

These insights will help you make informed decisions about implementing lazy loading on your site and address any concerns you may have.

"Lazy loading can seem daunting at first, but with the right guidance, it becomes an invaluable asset for web optimization."

What is lazy loading and how does it work?

Lazy loading is a technique that defers the loading of non-essential elements, such as images and videos, until they are needed. This reduces the initial load time of a webpage, allowing users to interact with the content more quickly. By only loading elements when they enter the viewport, lazy loading conserves resources and improves performance.

How does lazy loading affect page speed and SEO?

Lazy loading can significantly enhance page speed by reducing the number of elements that need to be loaded initially. This not only improves user experience but also positively impacts SEO. Search engines favor faster websites, which can lead to improved rankings.

However, it's essential to ensure that lazy loading is implemented correctly to avoid any negative impact on SEO. This includes providing fallbacks for search engines that may not execute JavaScript and ensuring that all critical content is accessible without JavaScript. For more insights, check out this beginner's guide to lazy loading.

By addressing these considerations, you can harness the benefits of lazy loading without compromising your site's visibility in search engine results.

"Faster websites are favored by both users and search engines, making lazy loading a win-win for performance and SEO."

Therefore, lazy loading is an effective strategy for enhancing both user experience and search engine rankings.

What types of content should be lazy loaded?

Lazy loading is particularly beneficial for large images, videos, and other media content that can slow down a webpage. By deferring these elements, you can ensure that users only load what they need, when they need it.

Additionally, lazy loading can be applied to JavaScript and CSS files, further optimizing load times. By prioritizing essential content and deferring non-essential elements, you can create a more efficient and user-friendly website.

Are there any drawbacks to implementing lazy loading?

While lazy loading offers numerous benefits, it does have some potential drawbacks. If not implemented correctly, it can interfere with search engine indexing and result in missing or delayed content. To mitigate these risks, ensure that your lazy loading implementation is compatible with search engines and provides fallbacks for non-JavaScript environments. For more insights, check out Boost Your Website Speed With Lazy Loading.

How do I verify if lazy loading is working on my site?

To verify that lazy loading is working, use browser developer tools to inspect the network activity. Check if images and other media elements are loading only when they enter the viewport. Additionally, tools like Google PageSpeed Insights can help you analyze your site's performance and confirm that lazy loading is functioning as intended.

By regularly monitoring your site's performance and addressing any issues that arise, you can ensure that lazy loading continues to enhance your website's speed and user experience.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months ago

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Every complex ecosystem has parasites

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me at NEW ZEALAND'S UNITY BOOKS in AUCKLAND on May 2, and in WELLINGTON on May 3. More tour dates (Pittsburgh, PDX, London, Manchester) here.

Patrick "patio11" McKenzie is a fantastic explainer, the kind of person who breaks topics down in ways that stay with you, and creep into your understanding of other subjects, too. Take his 2022 essay, "The optimal amount of fraud is non-zero":

https://www.bitsaboutmoney.com/archive/optimal-amount-of-fraud/

It's a very well-argued piece, and here's the nut of it:

The marginal return of permitting fraud against you is plausibly greater than zero, and therefore, you should welcome greater than zero fraud.

In other words, if you allow some fraud, you will also allow through a lot of non-fraudulent business that would otherwise trip your fraud meter. Or, put it another way, the only way to prevent all fraud is to chase away a large proportion of your customers, whose transactions are in some way abnormal or unexpected.

Another great explainer is Bruce Schneier, the security expert. In the wake of 9/11, lots of pundits (and senior government officials) ran around saying, "No price is too high to prevent another terrorist attack on our aviation system." Schneier had a foolproof way of shutting these fools up: "Fine, just ground all civilian aircraft, forever." Turns out, there is a price that's too high to pay for preventing air-terrorism.

Latent in these two statements is the idea that the most secure systems are simple, and while simplicity is a fine goal to strive for, we should always keep in mind the maxim attributed to Einstein, "Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler." That is to say, some things are just complicated.

20 years ago, my friend Kathryn Myronuk and I were talking about the spam wars, which were raging at the time. The spam wars were caused by the complexity of email: as a protocol (rather than a product), email is heterogenuous. There are lots of different kinds of email servers and clients, and many different ways of creating and rendering an email. All this flexibility makes email really popular, and it also means that users have a wide variety of use-cases for it. As a result, identifying spam is really hard. There's no reliable automated way of telling whether an email is spam or not – you can't just block a given server, or anyone using a kind of server software, or email client. You can't choose words or phrases to block and only block spam.

Many solutions were proposed to this at the height of the spam wars, and they all sucked, because they all assumed that the way the proposer used email was somehow typical, thus we could safely build a system to block things that were very different from this "typical" use and not catch too many dolphins in our tuna nets:

https://craphound.com/spamsolutions.txt

So Kathryn and I were talking about this, and she said, "Yeah, all complex ecosystems have parasites." I was thunderstruck. The phrase entered my head and never left. I even gave a major speech with that title later that year, at the O'Reilly Emerging Technology Conference:

https://craphound.com/complexecosystems.txt

Truly, a certain degree of undesirable activity is the inevitable price you pay once you make something general purpose, generative, and open. Open systems – like the web, or email – succeed because they are so adaptable, which means that all kinds of different people with different needs find ways to make use of them. The undesirable activity in open systems is, well, undesirable, and it's valid and useful to try to minimize it. But minimization isn't the same as elimination. "The optimal amount of fraud is non-zero," because "everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler." Complexity is generative, but "all complex ecosystems have parasites."

America is a complex system. It has, for example, a Social Security apparatus that has to serve more than 65 million people. By definition, a cohort of 65 million people will experience 65 one-in-a-million outliers every day. Social Security has to accommodate 65 million variations on the (surprisingly complicated) concept of a "street address":

https://gist.github.com/almereyda/85fa289bfc668777fe3619298bbf0886

It will have to cope with 65 million variations on the absolutely, maddeningly complicated idea of a "name":

https://www.kalzumeus.com/2010/06/17/falsehoods-programmers-believe-about-names/

In cybernetics, we say that a means of regulating a system must be capable of representing as many states as the system itself – that is, if you're building a control box for a thing with five functions, the box needs at least five different settings:

http://pespmc1.vub.ac.be/REQVAR.html

So when we're talking about managing something as complicated as Social Security, we need to build a Social Security Administration that is just as complicated. Anything that complicated is gonna have parasites – once you make something capable of managing the glorious higgeldy piggeldy that is the human experience of names, dates of birth, and addresses, you will necessarily create exploitable failure modes that bad actors can use to steal Social Security. You can build good fraud detection systems (as the SSA has), and you can investigate fraud (as the SSA does), and you can keep this to a manageable number – in the case of the SSA, that number is well below one percent:

https://www.congress.gov/crs_external_products/IF/PDF/IF12948/IF12948.2.pdf

But if you want to reduce Social Security fraud from "a fraction of one percent" to "zero percent," you can either expend a gigantic amount of money (far more than you're losing to fraud) to get a little closer to zero – or you can make Social Security far simpler. For example, you could simply declare that anyone whose life and work history can't fit in a simple database schema is not eligible for Social Security, kick tens of millions of people off the SSI rolls, and cause them to lose their homes and starve on the streets. This isn't merely cruel, it's also very, very expensive, since homelessness costs the system far more than Social Security. The optimum amount of fraud is non-zero.

Conservatives hate complexity. That's why the Trump administration banned all research grants for proposals that contained the word "systemic" (as a person with so-far-local cancer, I sure worry about what happens when and if my lymphoma become systemic). I once described the conservative yearning for "simpler times," as a desire to be a child again. After all, the thing that made your childhood "simpler" wasn't that the world was less complicated – it's that your parents managed that complexity and shielded you from it. There's always been partner abuse, divorce, gender minorities, mental illness, disability, racial discrimination, geopolitical crises, refugees, and class struggle. The only people who don't have to deal with this stuff are (lucky) children.

Complexity is an unavoidable attribute of all complicated processes. Evolution is complicated, so it produces complexity. It's convenient to think about a simplified model of genes in which individual genes produce specific traits, but it turns out genes all influence each other, are influenced in turn by epigenetics, and that developmental factors play a critical role in our outcomes. From eye-color to gender, evolution produces spectra, not binaries. It's ineluctably (and rather gloriously) complicated.

The conservative project to insist that things can be neatly categorized – animal or plant, man or woman, planet or comet – tries to take graceful bimodal curves and simplify them into a few simple straight lines – one or zero (except even the values of the miniature transistors on your computer's many chips are never at "one" or "zero" – they're "one-ish" and "mostly zero").

Like Social Security, fraud in the immigration system is a negligible rounding error. The US immigration system is a baroque, ramified, many-tendriled thing (I have the receipts from the immigration lawyers who helped me get a US visa, a green card, and citizenship to prove it). It is already so overweighted with pitfalls and traps for the unwary that a good immigration lawyer might send you to apply for a visa with 600 pages of documentation (the most I ever presented) just to make sure that every possible requirement is met:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/2242342898/in/photolist-zp6PxJ-4q9Aqs-2nVHTZK-2pFKHyf

After my decades of experience with the US immigration system, I am prepared to say that the system is now at a stage where it is experiencing sharply diminishing returns from its anti-fraud systems. The cost of administering all this complexity is high, and the marginal amount of fraud caught by any new hoop the system gins up for migrants to jump through will round to zero.

Which poses a problem for Trump and trumpists: having whipped up a national panic about out of control immigration and open borders, the only way to make the system better at catching the infinitesimal amount of fraud it currently endures is to make the rules simpler, through the blunt-force tactic of simply excluding people who should be allowed in the country. For example, you could ban college kids planning to spend the summer in the US on the grounds that they didn't book all their hotels in advance, because they're planning to go from city to city and wing it:

https://www.newsweek.com/germany-tourists-deported-hotel-maria-lepere-charlotte-pohl-hawaii-2062046

Or you could ban the only research scientist in the world who knows how to interpret the results of the most promising new cancer imaging technology because a border guard was confused about the frog embryos she was transporting (she's been locked up for two months now):

https://www.msn.com/en-us/health/other/horrified-harvard-scientists-ice-arrest-leaves-cancer-researchers-scrambling/ar-AA1DlUt8

Of course, the US has long operated a policy of "anything that confuses a border guard is grounds for being refused entry" but the Trump administration has turned the odd, rare outrage into business-as-usual.

But they can lock up or turn away as many people as they want, and they still won't get the amount of fraud to zero. The US is a complicated place. People have complicated reasons for entering the USA – work, family reunion, leisure, research, study, and more. The only immigration system that doesn't leak a little at the seams is an immigration system that is so simple that it has no seams – a toy immigration system for a trivial country in which so little is going on that everything is going on.

The only garden without weeds is a monoculture under a dome. The only email system without spam is a closed system managed by one company that only allows a carefully vetted cluster of subscribers to communicate with one another. The only species with just two genders is one wherein members who fit somewhere else on the spectrum are banished or killed, a charnel process that never ends because there are always newborns that are outside of the first sigma of the two peaks in the bimodal distribution.

A living system – a real country – is complicated. It's a system, where people do things you'll never understand for perfectly good reasons (and vice versa). To accommodate all that complexity, we need complex systems, and all complex ecosystems have parasites. Yes, you can burn the rainforest to the ground and planting monocrops in straight rows, but then what you have is a farm, not a forest, vulnerable to pests and plagues and fire and flood. Complex systems have parasites, sure, but complex systems are resilient. The optimal level of fraud is never zero, because a system that has been simplified to the point where no fraud can take place within it is a system that is so trivial and brittle as to be useless.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/24/hermit-kingdom/#simpler-times

#pluralistic #doge #waste #corruption #spam #complexity #walled gardens #hermit kingdoms #simplicity

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foolishlovers · 6 months ago

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With 2024 coming to an end, I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to my favourite fics I (re)read this year. I have so so much appreciation for all writers creating beautiful works about our beloved angel and demon pair. Reading these sometimes funny, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes sappy, sometimes deliciously filthy stories has been a constant source of joy. I truly can't even begin to describe how thankful I am to be part of such an incredibly creative and loving fandom. So so much gratitude for all the different versions of them, all the genders, all the tropes, all the canon fics, and all the human AUs. There are so many more amazing fics I read this year and there are so many more to explore in 2025, but the following few have made themselves a home in my heart. I promise they're worth a read! 💜 [I do fic recs all year long, check out this tag for more.]

Date by @ddagent (2.5k, T)

Every year, Aziraphale is spoiled on his birthday. This year, he decides to do the same for Crowley. There's only one problem - he's not actually sure when Crowley's birthday is.

Roller Derby Queen by @summerofspock (2.5k, M)

Crowley skates for Hell on Wheels and she's pretty good at it too. She'd be better if she weren't so distracted by the new skater on the opposing team.

Sweet Nectar of the Eldritch Gods by @brenna (3.2k, G)

Azira writes a letter to the purveyor of her favorite honeys and sweetness ensues. No offence, but who says “by the by,” by the way? It’s adorable? By the by, do you like wine? Crowley

Poor Men by @why-not-go-with-style (3.9k, G)

What To Do When Two of Your Professors Are Hopelessly in Love With Each Other: an instruction manual by Adam Young (featuring Pepper Moonchild because someone has to be the voice of reason here).

!False (It's Funny Because It's True) by @mirjam-writes (6.4k, E)

Aziraphale drew a long breath through his nose. Crowley, of course it had to be Crowley. The new guy in the sales department, who would promise potential customers just about anything to close a deal. Arrogant, annoying – and wildly, stupidly attractive. Aziraphale hated him. Aziraphale is a stellar software architect and a project manager, who is so done with the sales department selling unrealistically scheduled and budgeted projects. And he definitely doesn't have a crush on anyone, thank you very much.

Show me where the Nightingale sings by @sabotage-on-mercury (6.5k, G)

After settling into their new home in the South Downs there are still things to process for Aziraphale and Crowley before they can start a new chapter of their life. But winter is turning into spring. There is magic abroad in the air. And finally, the nightingale is back.

The Art of Human Nature by @ineffable-doll (6.5k, T)

Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

Lit by @fellshish (12k, T)

Crowley takes a university course on literature and surprise! The book they’re discussing is Good Omens. Uh oh.

Paradigm Shift by @hakunahistata (13k, E)

“Apologies, apologies! The time got away from me.” Aziraphale Fell entered the room brightly, a binder in one hand, tea mug in the other. Crowley’s languid sprawl went rigid as the senior accounting analyst who had been the indulgent secret in the back of his mind took the seat opposite him. Or, Crowley Pines at the Office: An AU.

Feast by @ashfae, mostlyjustgoose (15k, E)

Crowley's spent the whole of lockdown asleep. Aziraphale has spent the whole of lockdown baking, cooking, and becoming increasingly frustrated with his solitude. Which eventually leads him to the perfect way to solve all his problems at once... Or, Aziraphale attempts to seduce Crowley with a truly excellent meal, and Crowley is amenable.

Ever-Fixed by @hkblack (19k, E)

Aziraphale Fell had a plan. Go to school, get his degree, and start his life with his beloved at his side as man and wife. Until one day Crowley disappears. Decades later he meets a man, and finds the love of his life again. Anthony J. Crowley, suave, cool, masculine, in control, unflappable, has spent decades building himself up. He refuses to let his confident facade disappear for Aziraphale, who once almost tumbled down the stairs to certain death because his nose was stuck in a book. It’s just sex, and they’ve been dating for months, this time around. There’s no need to get his knickers in a knot. But the past isn’t easy to let go of, even if you’re both avoiding it. A story about love, intimacy, and finding each other again. (Alternatively: Tender smut, but then I wrote love story flashbacks, and now it's just emotional and there's plot in my pornography)

Fireworks by @optimistic-starlight (19k, E)

He had to get himself under control. Aziraphale needed him. That prick boyfriend of his drained so much of Aziraphale's time and energy, dampened so much of the gentle, beaming happiness that Crowley had always adored about him. He needed Crowley there to support him, to do the things a best friend should be there to do. And, well, if Crowley needed him too, if he had to subsume his own pain to focus on making Aziraphale happy, that was something he could bear quietly. He could do it for his angel. Crowley groaned and dropped his head against the tiled wall of the shower. His angel. He had to stop thinking of him like that.

Maybe Next Christmas by @flamingbentleyy (21k, T)

Airports were tricky business, but waiting in airports was as close to hell as one could possibly get. Nobody knew it better than Aziraphale, whose luck had made him end up in one right on Christmas Eve of all days. Although his airport experience turned a little less hellish and a whole lot more entertaining after he ran into an old college friend in that same airport. And then again. And again…

The Small Ad by @theladydrgn, @sylwritesstuff (32k, E)

WORK WANTED: Partner For Hire. Tall, lanky ginger of arguable gender available to be your significant other to keep pesky relatives, nosy coworkers, or well-meaning friends at bay. Able to be as annoying or as polite as you like. Causing a fight over Christmas dinner with your odd, bigoted uncle/aunt/cousin will require an extra £200 up front. £50 for the first hour, negotiable otherwise. Ciao. It isn't the sort of advertisement Aziraphale usually paid any attention to, but desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures.

Heavenly Wicked Cafe by @waitingtobebroken (33k, T)

There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

Petrichor & Parchment by @katnoggin (33k, E)

“Mr. Crowley, I presume?” Aziraphale asked in lieu of an introduction, which was not forthcoming. The guy hadn’t even removed his sunglasses. Oh God, he had a tattoo on his face. Aziraphale wasn’t one to judge, but… what kind of gardener had a snake tattoo on his face? Now also available as a podfic from Literarion [Huuuge recommendation for the podfic!!]

The Heart of the Forest by Kalimyre (33k, E)

Retired librarian Aziraphale moves into a small, isolated cottage deep in the forest with a strange history. He soon realises he's not alone in the woods; a presence watches him. But as he begins to befriend the stranger that lurks in the trees, Aziraphale comes to understand there's more to him than appearances suggest - and Aziraphale's own destiny may be tied to the mysterious creature with the golden eyes.

in your own time by @ineffabildaddy (33k, E)

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (45k, T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Loving You Slow by @tawnyontumblr (46k, E)

Crowley just wants to dance, but he's not prepared to sell his soul (and other things) at Mayfair's Hellfire Club to do it. Tending bar at The Bookshop in Soho is just the escape he needs, providing Crowley can convince the club’s owner he really belongs on the stage. Unfortunately Aziraphale Eastgate is not quite the generous guardian angel Crowley has been led to believe. Welcome to The Bookshop, where it always pays to look under the covers.

A Billion Points of Light by akitsuko (50k, E)

The firefighter lifts the visor on their helmet, and Crowley may not be able to see very well, but those are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen in his life. Crowley has never been one for the whole 'love at first sight' business, but he may need to reassess after Aziraphale - a gorgeous firefighter - saves his life.

More Than by @naromoreau (55k, E)

Crowley would like to spend another year without marrying, especially when thrust-forced to pick a husband. She refuses to cave in on a matter of principles. She refuses to cave in specifically on a matter of not wanting to be married to Lucien Morningstar. But she might need a hand to break free from such a burden. And who knows? She might even find something else along the way.

Lavender Apiary Of Your Honey Eyes by @snek-of-eden (66k, E)

The first thing Aziraphale registered was fiery red hair matted with sweat. The second thing was the man’s face, sharp and intelligent and a little guarded, sunlight dappling a spray of freckles. Upon seeing this, two contradictory thoughts crossed his mind: ‘Gosh, he’s pretty’, and ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a man use that many expletives in the space of a minute’. “Oh,” he said, swallowing hard. “Hello, then.” __________ When Aziraphale inherits a small, cosy cottage in the countryside, he finds unexpected company in a gardener he didn't even know he had. Crowley is sweet, and strange, and about as foul-mouthed as you can get. Before he knows it, he's falling pretty goddamn hard for a man whose friendship he's terrified of risking. Ah, the foils of love.

Old Vines by @sevdrag (189k, E)

A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds. [Big recommendation for the podfic here too!!]

#100% sure there r so many i missed and there are def many more by these writers that i adored as well but i chose to stick to one per autho #anyway!! thank u all <3 #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens human au #aziracrow fic #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Splurge

Fashion:

A great couple of bras in black/nude (your best skin-toned shade)

Comfortable, breathable, and seamless underwear

Outerwear (Coats, jackets, blazers)

The perfect pair of jeans

An LBD that works from day to night

Comfortable, sturdy, sleek, and timeless footwear (a versatile black boot, a black heel, white sneaker, and a black flat/loafer/sandal)

A timeless and versatile crossbody or shoulder bag (a larger one for the daytime/work or school and a smaller one for nighttime/events)

One or two well-made classic jewelry item(s)

A conversation-starting item or accessory

Beauty:

Sunscreen

Any skincare/skin cosmetic products that are game-changers for you

A quality hair brush, comb, and hair towel

Your signature scent

A quality razor/hair removal product

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Reliable hair tools and sturdy nail tools

A quality hair heat protectant/scalp cleansing or conditioning spray

Makeup brushes and beauty tool cleaners

Home:

Lamps/lighting

Couch/desk chair

Everything for your bed: Bed frame, mattress/sheets/pillows, etc.

Knives

Dishwasher-safe and microwave-safe dishes & cups you love

A full-length mirror

Vacuum

Storage solutions/cedar blocks or moth balls

Quality holders for everything: Paper towels, shower storage, hooks, mailbox/key bowls

Name brand paper products/household cleaners

Electric toothbrush & Waterpik

Sound-proof headphones/Airpods

MacBook Air

Health & Wellness:

High-quality lettuce and/or sprouts

Organic frozen fruits and vegetables (if fresh is too pricey)

BPA-free canned goods

Potassium bromate & glyphosate-free grain products

Snacks free of artificial colors

Quality coffee

An at-home massage tool/heating pad

Fur products for skin/hair removal

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Quality running shoes

Anything that goes near your vulva or into the vagina: Sex toys, lube, condoms, toy cleaners, pads/tampons/menstrual cups, cleansing wipes, etc.

A yoga mat, resistance band, and a pair of small ankle weights

Spotify subscription

Books and audiobooks

Services:

Therapy

A top-tier haircut

House cleaning (even if it's only once every couple of months)

Top-tier hair removal/brow maintenance services of your choice

Best doctors, dentists, OB/GYN, and dermatologists you can get

At least one personal training/styling session in your life

Professional/Social:

Ownership of the domain for your full legal/professional name and/or business name

A CPA/bookkeeper/fiduciary financial advisor

Automation workflow/content management system software

A lawyer for contract review/LLC services

Personalized stationery/"Thank You" cards

Memorable client gifting for the holidays/milestone successes

Niche skill-based certifications (Google, AWS, Hubspot, etc.) or courses made by trusted professionals in your field

Subscriptions in world-leading and industry-authority digital publications

2K notes · View notes

art · 1 year ago

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Meet the Artist: @theartistlunchbox

My name is Spartaco Margioni, an artist, animator, illustrator, who strives to produce the highest quality art with a whole lot of style. For over twenty five years, I've worked for Disney, Nickelodeon, Random House, Mondo Media, Broderbund Software, Sierra On-Line, Sega, and Mattel Interactive to name a few of my clients. Over the years, the knowledge, experience, and drive to create anything that was needed for a project, continues to drive myself to push the boundaries of the work. Most recently, working on my own development work for an animated short concept that’s been dear to me. My style is characteristically fun, playful and always arouses curiosity in my work to see more. Having worked for so many different companies and projects, the art, work and passion to keep creating, keeps evolving to push the boundaries of the art. I just love life, happily married, two dogs, and working on my writing, illustrating, my own children’s book. Ciao.

Nice to meet you, Spartaco! Below are some pieces he has picked out for you all to appreciate.

Check out more of Spartaco's work over at his Tumblr, @theartistlunchbox!

#meet the artist #meet the artist on tumblr #artists on tumblr #art #spartaco margioni #theartistlunchbox

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astrayas · 1 year ago

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Pressure Point

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex

WC: 6k

Summary: When you run into Toji Fushiguro for the first time in years, you find him in the most unexpected position: as your new massage therapist.

18+!!!

Ao3 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“…So she wasn’t able to make it in today. I’m so sorry for the short notice!”

You sling your bag back onto your shoulder and rub your neck, masking your disappointment with a polite smile.

“Oh…that’s a shame,” you say. You were really looking forward to your appointment today. Your usual masseuse is nothing less than an artist, and you’ve got plenty of knots to work out right now. “Well, when’s the next time she’s free?”

“Since you’re one of her regulars, I think we could work you in tomorrow…” the manager chirps, clicking at her computer. She takes a few minutes, clearly unfamiliar with the software. They’re really understaffed today. “But…oh! Actually, there is someone available to take you right now.”

“Oh?” You perk back up again, which is all it takes to strain your muscles. You wince just a bit. You really need some relief.

“Yes! He’s actually our top massage therapist. His new clients normally have to book him months in advance, but it looks like he had a cancellation today. I can go grab him, if you’re interested!”

You deflate just a little. Him? You’ve never seen a male massage therapist, and you weren’t planning to start today. Then your shoulder whines at you again, as if to protest your hesitation, and you’re rubbing at it before you realize it.

Well, if he’s really that good…

“Um. Sure,” you force out. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all!” She springs to her feet and graces you with a polished customer service smile. “Please, have a seat. I’ll go let him know.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, a rush of nerves guiding your short, stilted steps to the nearest chair. You flop into it and try to reason with yourself. If you get uncomfortable, you can just leave. But he’s their top massage therapist. He obviously knows what he’s doing, and you really need—

“Nuh-uh. I don’t do walk-ins.”

A loud, gruff voice booms from the hallway, clearly audible through the thick waiting room door. Whoever’s speaking doesn’t seem to care about indoor voices. You have to strain to hear the manager’s response.

“She’s not a walk-in!” she argues. “She had an appointment, but Rei called out at the last minute.”

“Sounds like that’s Rei’s problem, then.”

After a few seconds of silence, you stand up. This sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. You can wait another day; you’ll just tell them you’ll reschedule.

“Come on! This client’s been coming to us for years. We can’t lose her!” the manager pleads.

“You can’t lose her. I’ll be just fine.”

Your lip curls in disgust as you hoist your bag over your aching shoulder. People book this guy months in advance? Whatever. You can just leave and call them later. But as you turn to walk out the door, you hear one last exchange.

“Ugh…how about this? I’ll give you a few extra days off next month.”

You pause mid-step.

“…I want a week.”

“A week?”

“I’ve been working my fingers to the bone for you for God knows how long. I want a week, or I walk.”

Another long, heavy silence, but you’re still listening.

“…Fine. Fine. I’ll make it happen. Just go out there and be pleasant, alright?”

“I’m never anything but,” the gruff voice hums, and you can just barely hear the manager groan as the door flies open. The strap on your bag slides down your shoulder at the same moment, and you look down as you pull it back up with a grimace.

“You must be the one Rei stranded today. Nice to meet you. I’m—“

He freezes mid-sentence. When you finally look back up, you freeze, too.

“Toji…” you murmur.

You’ve lost count of the years it’s been since you and Toji Fushiguro parted ways. But you could go a century without seeing that face and still recognize it. The scar on his mouth, his fierce green eyes, his strong, chiseled frame…none of it’s really easy to forget.

But it’s his most unforgettable feature—his big, wolfish grin—that traps you in place when it’s clear he recognizes you, too.

“Well, well,” he croons, an irritating melody ringing in his voice as he holds the door open and extends his hand. “Come on back, ma’am. Last door on the left.”

You shuffle past him without so much as a “Thank you” and grip the strap of your bag tight. God, why did it have to be him? Out of all the people who could have walked out of that door, why him?

You step into the room he pointed you to and take it in with wide eyes. This is certainly a step up from your usual setup with Rei. It’s bigger, but the atmosphere is so much more intimate. Soft, ambient music drifts through the room. Candles flicker on select small tables lining the perimeter of the space, playing on the velvety flower petals artfully arranged on the floor and the massage table. It’s downright romantic.

But it’s the table itself, lying in the center of the room, that draws most of your attention. It’s plush and oversized, draped in crisp, clean linens and adorned with a fluffy duvet and a lavish pillow. It almost looks like it was made for sleeping instead.

And it looks…sturdy.

“So. Been a while since you up and vanished,” Toji says with little ceremony, shutting the door behind him. “What have you been—”

“So is this a sex thing? Is that what you do here?” you blurt out. He blinks at you, mouth falling slightly open, and crosses his arms.

“Wow. That’s the first thing you say to me in six years?” he rasps.

Six years. It’s been six long years.

You blink back at him a few more times before you register what you just said, and you slap a hand to your mouth several seconds too late.

“Uh—shit—” you stutter, your hand rising to slap your forehead. “I didn’t mean—”

After some lengthy floundering, which he lets you do in perfect silence, your hands finally drop to your sides, and you heave a deep sigh.

“I just—this is a big bed—”

“You mean a massage table.”

“And apparently you’re the most requested guy here—”

“Because I’m a good massage therapist.”

“And you were a criminal the last time we talked!” you finish. Your voice rises a little more than you intended, and that goddamned knot in your shoulder spasms. You rub at it desperately and take a calming breath.

Something like a low growl rumbles in Toji’s chest as he strolls over to the sink and washes his hands.

“If I’m remembering correctly—and I am—you weren’t an upstanding citizen back then, either,” he flings back. He dries his hands, turns back around, and leans against the counter, looking you up and down. “At least my crimes were impressive.”

You set your bag on a nearby chair and scoff at him. “Yeah. So impressive I just couldn’t bear to live in your shadow anymore.”

“Cute,” he sneers. “You want the damn massage or not? Because you clearly need it.”

“Oh, like you can really tell—”

“Your right shoulder. That one’s obvious.” He pushes himself away from the counter and closes the distance between you with just a couple steps. “You keep rubbing at it like a maniac. But the way you’re standing right now tells me you have pain in your lower back, too. Right about…” He circles behind you, a shadow of a grin growing on his face before he disappears from your sight. You shiver when he rests a large, strong hand exactly where the small of your back hurts the most. “...Here.”

You spin back around and scowl at him. He holds his hands up in an innocent gesture.

“Yeah, those are my biggest problem areas,” you mutter.

“Then let’s take care of ‘em,” he proposes, sauntering over to the door. “Believe it or not, I am a professional now. I take my clients seriously.”

His eyes glint when he turns the knob.

“Even petty thieves like you.”

Your blood pressure instantly shoots through the sky.

“Don’t think I won’t—” you start, unsure of what vague threat you’re about to make, but he’s already halfway out the door.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to get undressed,” he nearly sings. “Start out face-down.”

And with that, he’s gone. The door shuts with a click, leaving every stupid knot in your back to tense up and scream even louder. You don’t even bother hanging your clothes on any of the hooks nearby, opting to pelt them to the floor instead. Infuriating. He’s infuriating. He’s every bit as infuriating as he was all those years ago, when you were just two delinquents among many wreaking havoc in town.

Back when you thought he was the sexiest, funniest, dreamiest guy on earth.

You smack some petals off the table before you settle under the sheets, lying on your stomach. Whatever. It’s not like the feeling was mutual. What did you even see in him back then, anyway? Other than the eyes and the muscles and the voice and the face and the—

Toji knocks on the door.

“You decent?” he calls from the other side.

“No,” you sniff. “But I’m under the sheet. You can come in.”

He chuckles as he lets himself back in and promptly closes the door. You can only see his feet as he walks past you and stops at the counter, and he shakes a bottle.

“Alright. So, I know your shoulder and your lower back are your biggest problems right now, but I’ll find your other pressure points as we work,” he announces, instantly professional. “But first, I need to ask if you’ve got any areas I should avoid.”

“Nope,” you inform the floor. “It’s all up for grabs.”

He laughs again, and you curse yourself under your breath. What an atrocious choice of words.

“Good to know,” he hums. Ugh. He sounds too pleased.

Your heart skips as soon as he pulls the sheet down from your shoulders all the way to just above your backside. He gets straight to work, starting by feeling for tight areas.

“Yeesh. You’ve got trigger points all the way down your back,” he marvels. “It’s almost impressive.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you sigh.

You have to admit it: even now, even as he just searches and assesses, his touch is divine. It must be thanks to those dexterous fingers, those powerful hands, his shocking familiarity with every part of the human body…

You squeeze your eyes shut in a desperate bid to push the thoughts out. Stupid. Stupid. What a stupid crush you had on him. You start talking just to fill your head with something, anything else.

“How’d you even fall into this line of work? It’s not—“ Your breath hitches when you hear him squeeze some oil onto his hands and rub them together. “It’s, um…just not a career path I ever thought you’d take.”

You can hear the grin in his response. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to help people?”

You answer with some snorting laughter, which tells him enough.

“Thought not,” he sighs. “No point in lying, then.” His hands work their way to the rough spot on your shoulder, and you brace yourself. “Honestly? It’s good money. That’s all there is to it.”

“That I believe,” you answer, screwing your eyes shut when he starts working that knot. This is going to be a rough session, you just know it.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he mumbles, genuine shock lining his voice. “What do you do these days?”

“I’m just an office worker,” you grunt. You take a deep breath when he digs in again.

“An office worker and…what? A cage fighter? A trapeze artist? These are insane knots for an office worker.”

“I’ve got—phew—I’ve got really bad posture,” you mutter. You squirm under his movements.

“Clearly. You must be hunched over 24/7.”

This time, you don’t answer him. Deep tissue massages can hurt, sure, but this is on a whole new level. You bear with him for about another minute before you wave him away.

“God, Toji, are all your clients masochists?!” you cry, glaring at the floor. You keep lying flat on your stomach, waiting for the pain to ebb away.

“…Some are,” he croons.

Your hands tense at your sides. “So it is—”

“I’m joking, damn,” he huffs. He switches to your other shoulder and, mercifully, handles it with a lot less pressure. “I mean, I’m sure some are. I wouldn’t know. People just come to me when they’ve got injuries and chronic issues. When it comes to that slow, painful deep tissue massage, I’m the best around.”

“Solving pain with pain,” you remark. He slides down to the middle of your back and digs into a spot just to the left of your spine. “That does sound right up your alley.”

“...I see you’ve still got a mouth on you,” he grumbles, and whether consciously or not, he pushes down especially hard. You suck in a breath and screw your eyes shut. “How’d you land a cushy office job with your attitude?”

“I learned when to keep my mouth shut,” you fight to answer, focusing on your breathing. “I was wondering the same thing about you, based on that conversation I heard in the hallway. Do you always talk to your managers like that?”

“Ha!” He pulls his hands away and rubs some more oil between them. “Only the ones who can’t afford to lose me. Business has been booming since I started here. And, damn, you should see the tips I get.”

“Tips?” you squawk, pushing yourself onto your elbows and staring up at him. “What do you mean, you get tips? What do you do to earn tips?”

“Um.”

Toji clears his throat and looks to the side. It’s only when he physically covers his eyes with his hand do you realize you pushed yourself so far up you nearly exposed your chest.

“Oh. Sorry…” you mumble, flopping back down. Heat erupts on your skin. You’re really excelling at making an ass of yourself today.

“What’s with you?” he grunts. He presses a palm against that sore spot at the small of your back. “We’re allowed to accept tips here. Why are you so sure I’m just doing weird sex stuff?”

Before you can answer, he starts applying pressure to the spot. Lots of it. To your surprise, it actually feels…good. So in lieu of a response, you simply let out a groan that lasts a little too long. And just beneath it, just for a moment, you swear you can hear a pleased sound humming in him, too.

“Don’t tell me…” His thumbs rub the small of your back in slow, deep circles. “...you were hoping for it?”

Your eyes shoot open. But he pushes in again, granting you deeper relief, and you lose the will to snap back at him. Not when he’s finally easing all that tension.

“Are you disappointed I don’t offer any special services?”

“Gimme a break,” you manage to say. But that’s all you say before his hands slide down to your glutes. Over the sheet, of course, like a professional, and he’s stroking them like any professional massage therapist would. But that doesn’t change the fact that, in a less professional sense…his hands are still on your ass.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” he boasts. He slides a little lower. He’s…really working those glutes. “I know why I really get so many requests. I know why my tips are so great. I mean, just look at me—”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you spit, wriggling out of his hands and flipping onto your back. You’re careful to keep the sheet over your chest this time. “I heard enough of that for a lifetime back in the day.”

“Hey. I’m not done with your back,” he pouts, frowning at you.

“Can we come back to it later? You’re gonna break it at this rate.”

“Coulda just asked me to be gentler.” He lifts the sheet away from your left leg and takes your foot in his hand. “I can do that.”

As if to prove his point, he uses a single thumb to gently stroke the inside of your arch. Exactly where it aches after a long day in heels. How did he know that was a sore spot, too?

“I listen to my clients,” he continues, stretching out your foot and sliding up your leg. He starts kneading the lowest part of your thigh, just above the knee. “Another reason why I end the day with so much extra cash.”

“I get it,” you mutter. “You have an awesome job and you make lots of money because you’re super hot. Congratulations.”

“Super hot, huh?” he whirs. “I mean, I know, but it’s nice to hear from that mouth you allegedly know how to keep shut.”

“Ugh.” You desperately try to focus your attention on the soothing motions of his fingers. “Can’t believe I used to have such a big crush on you.”

For a moment, for a fleeting, measly fraction of a second, his hands jerk. Then they pick back up as usual, gliding a little farther up your thigh. It takes him a few seconds to answer.

“Did you, now?”

Your brows furrow, but you keep your eyes closed.

“C’mon, Toji, it was so obvious,” you sigh. “There’s no way you didn’t know.”

“I really didn’t,” he says flatly. His fingers dig a little deeper into your skin. “We ran with a big group, remember? I…didn’t get to see you as much as I wanted to.”

You shift a bit under his touch. “As much as you wanted to?”

“...See? You didn’t know I had a thing for you, either.”

His fingers linger on your thigh, rubbing the same spot over and over. Finally, you open your eyes. You sit up to rest on your elbows and look right at him. And in the dim, flickering candlelight, you take a moment to really study his face for the first time in six years.

Six years that haven’t done much to age him, really. His jaw is still strong and sharp. The deep scar etched into his lip still hasn’t faded. His hands, which you’ve become very familiar with today, are still powerful, with veins and tendons that ripple just beneath the skin, with fingertips calloused but not rough. And his muscles are still toned and strong, if that tight black t-shirt has anything to say about it.

“Well. What could have been, right?” you murmur. You glance to the side and let your head fall back onto the table; you can’t bear to hold eye contact any longer.

After a long, tense moment, he pulls the sheet back over your left leg and moves to your other side.

“...Yeah. What could’ve been.”

He moves up your leg the same way he did the first, every knead and stroke therapeutic, but something feels different about his touch. It’s more…clinical. Truly professional now. Like you’re just any other client.

You fight the sinking feeling in your chest. The fact that he never showed he was interested in you stings a little, but that doesn’t matter anymore. There’s a reason you left the way you did. Toji wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for him. Nobody in that group you ran with was good for each other. You had to leave while you were still just a petty thief. Before you started racking up “impressive” crimes like him.

Toji’s still quiet as he pulls the sheet back over your legs and moves to the head of the table, settling on a rolling chair and scooting forward. You open your eyes again but look at nothing in particular. You don’t know what to look at. You don’t know what to say.

His hands slide under your shoulders, searching for that especially tight spot again. The moment he finds it, he digs in. You clench your teeth and bear it. Working out a knot can hurt. He’s doing his job. Just let him do his job. Just let him—

“Why’d you leave?”

Your eyes fly back open. His hands haven’t stopped working, but they have slowed.

“What?” you squeak.

“Why did you leave?” he repeats. You glance up and find him staring right back down at you, those deep green eyes glimmering even in the dim light. “Why did you just up and leave like that? No note, no nothin’?”

“Because…” You take a deep breath. It’s been a while since you’ve thought about those days. “Because I just couldn’t keep going like that. I couldn’t keep spending every day scoping out targets, planning which stores I’d hit next. I had to get out and make something of myself. I did it, and…look, you did it, too.”

“But why did you leave like that?” he carries on, his voice tinged with something close to desperation. “Why did you just disappear? Do you know how much that killed me? To just lose you like that, overnight, no explanation?”

You fight against a new sensation in your chest. It’s something rising, growing, gnawing.

“Because if I’d said anything, you would’ve tried to make me stay,” you answer.

“I couldn’t sleep at night wondering what happened to you.”

“You were the only one who could have made me stay.”

“When I could sleep, you were in my dreams.”

“You never needed me, Toji! You didn’t need me then, and you don’t need me now!”

“Fuck you for thinking that. And fuck you for just leaving.”

“Fuck you for making me think you wouldn’t care!”

He doesn’t respond to you before he flies to his feet, takes a breath, and walks back to the other end of the table.

“Lie back,” he says. “We’re not done with your massage.”

“Huh?”

“Lie back,” he repeats. “I’ve got some more pressure points to work out.”

“Uh…alright?” you mutter, and slowly, you settle back onto the table and stare at the ceiling. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he pulls the sheet back from one leg again, lifting it all the way to the top of your thigh this time. He squeezes some more oil onto his hands and rests his palm on your knee.

“Did you know you’ve got a lot of tension down here, too?” he asks, his voice low.

“I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m tense everywhere.”

“You really are,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “Like…when I was massaging your legs, I kept feeling you tense up when I got around…” His fingers snake their way to your inner thigh. “Here.”

You suck in a breath. “Well, that’s a sensitive area, so…”

And you’re sure you’re tensing up now. But the heated exchange you just shared is still ringing in your ears. That would leave anyone tense, right?

And it’s normal for your legs to part when they’re tense…right?

Your other leg has only moved a few inches away. But it’s a shift big enough for Toji to notice, and he glances down with a smirk.

“Is it, now?” he purrs. His fingers crawl a little higher up your leg. “Sensitive here, too?”

“Uh-huh…” you murmur, gripping the sheet below you. He’s reaching pretty far up. If he keeps going, it won’t be long before he finds out just how sensitive you’ve been from the moment he started touching you.

But you don’t stop him. You don’t want to.

“And how about—” he starts, but he stops himself when his thumb swipes across one part of your inner thigh a little too quickly. Like it slipped on something slick.

Your eyes shoot over to him. Well, secret’s out now. But still…you were dripping that far down your leg? That’s almost embarrassing.

His expression, though, suggests he doesn’t think so.

“Oh…” he whispers with a heavy voice, a strained voice, a voice that tells you all professionalism just flew out the window. “I think I know where you’re holding a lot of tension.”

Your heart flutters when his fingers dance their way up to the source of all that tension, when his knuckles graze it with all the pressure of a feather. It starts to ache the same way it did for him years ago, when you thought he never had eyes for you.

“Think you can help me with it?” you invite, parting your legs a little wider.

That little smirk grows into the same wolfish grin he first greeted you with. One finger, one long, strong finger, circles your entrance and slides in. You’re melting and moaning in the same moment, relishing the new ferocity lighting up his eyes.

“I think I can,” he breathes, sliding his finger in and out, up and down. “A special service just for you, since you’re just so damn—” Another finger slips in to join the first. “—tight.”

He waits until he’s up to his palm before he curls both fingers upward, searching for that spot, the source of all that pressure inside you. It takes him all of a second to find it. He beckons back and forth, up and down. He spreads his fingers ever so slightly, settling on a pressure that commands all your attention to that area.

You whimper and close your eyes. There’s so much you want to say. You want to find out where he learned to do that. You want to tease him, ask him how much he’s practiced. But this moment would be better spent, you remind yourself, simply enjoying this instead. So you part your legs a little wider and let him demonstrate just how well he’s learned to use his hands.

He leans forward just far enough to let you glue your hands to his shoulders. As he does, his other hand comes down to push just above your pelvis, his palm grazing your clit, and that tension rises higher and higher.

Then he leans in a little more. Every flicker of the candles reveals a new detail you’d missed in his face before. Every night of sleep he lost. Every day he thought of you. Every test he faced to make something more of himself, just like you did. Your hands work their way up to cradle either side.

And that’s it.

His lips are on yours, and his fingers pump faster. You claim each other in a kiss six years overdue, a kiss so desperate and needy and vicious it nearly consumes you. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and explores it freely. His teeth dig into your lower lip, a gesture as rough as his massage, but it brings you nothing but pleasure.

Pleasure that grows and grows and grows with all that tension he’s working out of you, so close to releasing. Your eyes start to flutter; your nails sink into his shoulders; your walls clench tighter and tighter.

“There it is,” he murmurs, encouraging you to keep going. “Let it loose. Let it out. Let me feel you let it out.”

The palm he’d left on your stomach presses down a little harder, condensing all that pressure into a volatile ball. His fingers beckon your pleasure forward quickly, deftly, and you writhe when you feel your tension threaten to release all at once.

And it releases like an explosion, knocking your head back and pushing your back up from the table. You try to buck your hips, but his hold on your pelvis is so strong that you ride out your ecstasy between his hands instead. Your walls convulse around his fingers uncontrollably, which he holds in place until your tumultuous release fades to gentle ripples.

And when those, too, die down, he captures your lips in another greedy kiss.

“How’s that tension?” he asks with a sly grin.

“Hmm…” You hold a finger to your chin and pretend to think. “Better, but I think there’s still some left.”

Your eyes flick down to his pants, which do little to hide what kind of tension he might be feeling now, too.

“If you’re still up for helping me work it out, I mean,” you add, letting the rest of the sheet fall from your chest. He allows himself a brazen, longing glance at it before he stands back up and pulls his fingers out, making you jerk.

“For such an important new client? Of course,” he hums. And like he just can’t help himself, he’s already slipping a thumb under the waistband of his pants. “If you could just get face-down again, ma’am.”

You giggle and flip back onto your stomach, tossing the rest of the sheet to the floor. Toji lets out a low whistle of appreciation when he finally sees you completely uncovered.

“Goddamn,” he mutters. And that table proves just as sturdy as you imagined when it barely even jostles as he joins you on it, pushing your legs apart and settling between them on his knees. His hands roam across your body, drawing hard lines between your shoulders, down your back, up and across and around your ass. You turn your face to one side and rest it against the plush table, enjoying every movement of his skilled fingers.

“Goddamn, goddamn,” he repeats, just to really drive the point home. He keeps one hand on your ass while the other pulls itself away. A couple fingers slide up and down your slit, just long enough to make it tingle, and then…he’s lined up with your entrance. A wave of anticipation ripples through you, emerging only as a faint shiver.

“So. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna push down and push in,” he says, palming the small of your back. “Still gotta work out those knots, after all.”

“Wow. Truly dedicated to your craft,” you snicker.

“Like I said, I’m a professional. Now, breathe in…”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just do it. Breathe in…”

You look back at him with a raised brow, but you do as he says and take in a deep breath.

“And out…”

You breathe out a lot more quickly than you were planning to when you start feeling pressure everywhere. His thumbs are digging into your back, stroking it in even circles. But he’s pushing into you at the same time, filling you out slowly, completely. The arousal that’s practically pooled inside of you lets him slide in easily, but it still takes a second to adjust to his size. Your face falls back onto the crisp linen sheet beneath you, your eyes closing and your lips parting as you embrace that delectable fullness.

“Good?” he asks behind you once he’s fully buried in you, and one hand slides back down to grab your ass.

“Very good,” you confirm.

You and Toji groan in tandem when he pulls his hips back, dragging himself slowly along your walls, and pushes back in. The moment you relax around him, he thrusts a little faster. And faster, and faster, and faster, until he has to secure a hold on your hips.

What a pro, you think to yourself with a smirk. How did he know? How did he know this was just the pressure you needed?

“Just when I was starting to forget about you,” he growls, snapping back against your hips. He doesn’t spare a single inch every time he drives himself back into you. Your jostle forward and bunch what you can of the sheets between your trembling fingers. “I was just starting to forget you, and you had to go and waltz back into my life. That’s just like you.”

Your answer barely comes out as anything more than a few pathetic whimpers. “Then maybe this time—fuck—you shouldn’t—”

His fingers bury themselves in your hips.

“Let me—”

He leans forward until his chest meets your back, his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. His rhythm starts to falter.

“Go.”

Your words must spark some new flame in him. Because he’s pounding into you mercilessly now, driving deep inside you and hitting that perfect spot again and again. You whimper, you mewl, you muffle your groans against the pillow, and your walls start to flutter around his cock.

“You think I’ll let you go now?” he snarls, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your skin. “No. Not now. Not when I’ve finally got you like I’ve always wanted you.”

He plants ravenous, messy kisses against your neck. His teeth graze your shoulder, threatening to clamp down and make good on his claim.

Shit. You’re getting close again. Your groans rise until he has to hold a hand against your mouth.

And you know you should keep it down, lest you ruin this good job he’s landed for himself. But you can’t stop a wordless cry from trying to push its way through his palm when that tension shatters inside you again, releasing wave after wave of ecstasy. He shudders and hisses behind you, his hips snapping and jerking and stuttering until he pulls out of you. His release lands on your back a moment later.

For a few seconds, neither of you say anything or move a muscle. You simply soak in the afterglow six years in the making, your ragged breaths overpowering the soft, ambient music. Then Toji finally breaks the silence with a simple remark:

“Fuck.”

“Fuck,” you agree.

You stay on your stomach, eyes closed, as he pushes himself off the massage table and pulls his pants back on.

“Just a sec,” he mumbles. You simply nod, lying motionless where you are as he wipes his mess off your back. “And…hour’s almost up. I’d like to keep working out your knots all day, believe me, but I do have a client coming in.”

You blink your eyes back open. For a moment, you wonder if you should say what’s on your mind. If this one-time reunion should stay a one-time reunion. But with or against your better judgment, you decide to voice what you really want, instead.

“I’ll just have to come back for another session, then, right?”

You flip back over and sit up to find him already grinning at you.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he chuckles as he finishes buckling his belt. He steps up to you and takes your face in his hands, rubbing a soothing thumb across your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips, and he steals one more long, hard, greedy kiss before he takes the dirty towel with him to the door. “...I’ll give you a minute to get dressed.”

When he shuts the door, you hop off the table onto shaky legs and fumble to put your clothes back on. You comb your fingers through your hair and adjust your skirt, ready to face the world after a truly satisfying…massage.

The manager’s still sitting at the front desk when you walk back into the waiting room. She looks up from her computer and greets you with a big smile.

“Wow, you look happy!” she pipes up. “I take it Toji took good care of you?”

“Yeah,” you say, hoisting your bag back onto your shoulder. Funny. He didn’t spend that much time on it, but it already feels so much lighter. “I feel great.”

Toji appears in the doorway, wiping his hands on a new towel, smirking at you and leaning against the frame.

“I’m so glad to hear that! So, did you want to—”

“Book her for next week,” Toji says so nonchalantly, like he’s just finished up an average session. The manager beams at you, clearly pleased that their center could make it up to you after their blunder today. Toji looks right at you, too, when he shares another note.

“She’s gonna be one of my regulars.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #toji x y/n #jjk smut #jjk toji

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mariacallous · 20 days ago

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In Durham, North Carolina, just a few miles from major universities, teaching hospitals, and other temples of science, the Holy Spirit remains formidable. When I attended a gathering at Catch the Fire Church one Friday evening last year, a petite blond woman made her way down the aisle, laying her hand on heads and shoulders, calling on the Holy Spirit. Her magenta tunic glowed under the can lights. She breathed hard into her microphone. Here and there, the woman, a Toronto-based evangelist named Carol Arnott, paused to point a finger down a row of worshippers and shout, “Fire on them, Lord!” Knees buckled; people collapsed back into their seats.

As Arnott continued her circuit, a man in a hoodie—the “catcher”—followed closely behind, ready to help any person “slain in the Spirit.” One touch from her hand sent more supplicants falling to the floor. “Don’t get up too soon,” Arnott urged one dazed individual lying on the carpet. “You’re like a steak, marinating.” She preached as she walked, describing a vision in which Jesus gave her a bouquet of lilies of the valley and adorned her with a flowered crown and wedding veil. “The bridegroom is coming. Are you ready?” Arnott asked. It was hard to hear her over the moans and guffaws, the bursts of holy laughter.

Catch the Fire belongs to the fastest-growing group of Christians on the planet—charismatic Christians, who believe that the Holy Spirit empowers them to speak in tongues, heal, and prophesy, just as Jesus’s first apostles did 2,000 years ago. By some measures, they represent more than half of the roughly 60 million U.S. adults who call themselves “born-again.” This flourishing and vigorously supernatural faith points to the paradox of the secular age: The modern era of declining church attendance has nurtured some of religion’s most dramatic manifestations. Instead of killing off religion, secularism has supercharged its extraordinary elements.

Charismatic Christians aren’t the only ones embracing a spirituality that might seem out of place in our modern, rationalist age. Eighty-seven percent of Americans subscribe to at least one New Age belief, such as karma, reincarnation, or telepathy. During my time researching charismatic Christianity for my new book, Spellbound, I also interviewed podcast bros who hawk ayahuasca in Silicon Valley and self-described spiritual coaches who offer treatments ranging from Reiki to reviewing their clients’ past lives.

At a New Age congregation outside Denver, I attended a healing workshop on harnessing the invisible energies of the universe to treat cancer and arthritis, as well as a shamanic drum circle where a former software engineer named Greg led participants on a journey to the spirit world to meet their power animals. If this is a “secular age,” then perhaps we need to rethink what secularization means.

These thriving subcultures are, in part, proof that channeling the Holy Spirit or seeking an animal spirit guide doesn’t carry the same stigma in America that such otherworldly adventuring once did. While I was visiting Catch the Fire, one pastor surveyed the auditorium full of chuckling, sprawling worshippers and declared that “we choose to look silly.” But he no longer has to worry—as Christians who spoke in tongues did a century ago—about police shutting down the worship service or local doctors asking a judge to declare the worshippers legally insane. Nowadays, Americans are more inclined to shrug off other people’s theological eccentricities and save their purity tests for politics.

Charismatic Christians preach a message that is as much about letting go of inhibitions as submitting to the strictures of the Bible. Early in his ministry, Randy Clark, a pastor with long-standing connections to Catch the Fire Church, confessed to a friend that when he watched others get slain in the Spirit, he didn’t feel anything special himself. The friend told him: “You just resist it. Next time, don’t fake it, but don’t fight it either. Just become a sail in the wind.” Clark followed the instructions, and the next time someone prayed for him, “I had a physical manifestation,” he told me. “It started in my right thumb. I saw it moving, and thought, That is weird. I could stop that. But I made a decision. I’m going to use my will to be open, to not stop anything, not work up anything.”

Openness to the Holy Spirit does not preclude adherence to orthodox religious teaching. Indeed, most charismatic churches subscribe to a traditional interpretation of the Bible, and plenty of Catholics—a distinctly doctrinal group—call themselves charismatic. Alpha, one of the most successful evangelistic enterprises in the world today, emphasizes the tangible experience of God’s presence alongside classical arguments for the truth of Christianity. Founded in 1977 by a charismatic Anglican parish in London, Alpha evolved into an 11-week course on the basics of Christianity that is now available in 112 languages worldwide and culminates in a prayer-filled “Holy Spirit weekend.”

“People who have been quite skeptical often experience something powerful, and then they try to figure out what happened,” Graham Tomlin, an Anglican priest who has been involved with Alpha for many years, told me. “As a means of evangelism, this is not primarily a set of programs, or the explanation of doctrines—although it does that—but at its heart, an invitation to encounter God.”

From a certain angle, these groups are merely taking mainstream aspirations to their supernatural conclusion. The rising popularity of Spirit-filled worship and emphasis on personal contact with God has paralleled secular society’s exaltation of private experience over tradition or reasoned argument. Charismatic worship began surging across Protestant and Catholic churches in the 1960s, in tandem with pop psychology’s increasing stress on “self-actualization” and authenticity as the primary conditions of happiness. Growing interest in individualistic, experiential religion also dovetails with the erosion of Americans’ trust in established institutions and expertise over the past half century.

Some religious leaders are wary of taking this subjective impulse too far. “The emphasis on feelings and emotions is a good one, but the danger is that it starts to counter objective truth. It becomes: ‘I feel it, therefore it’s my truth,’” says Nicky Gumbel, an Anglican priest who led the global expansion of the Alpha course and remains involved with the program. “Lived experience becomes the arbiter of everything.”

Yet self-optimization is the riptide of American culture. It pulls hard against any traditional mandate to find and proclaim universal truth. At the New Age congregation I visited in Denver, the minister preached that all humans should claim their “unique, authentic, God-expressed self.” On another occasion, a spiritual coach told me: “I’ve done the new-moon and the full-moon ceremony. I’ve practiced with crystals quite a bit and sage, sweat lodges. I’ve done so many things, just trying to find my way, what feels right.”

Understanding this cultural landscape requires resisting the temptation to reduce these groups to their voting patterns. Of course, many New Age spiritual experimenters would clash with charismatic Christians on a range of moral questions and policy issues. But the default culture-war rubric disguises the deeper, pre-political impulses that these varieties of American religion have in common: a desire for tangible contact with divine power, and trust in personal experience over so-called experts. Together, these attitudes explain the country’s politics better than any theory resting on blue-versus-red narratives.

This combination of spiritual hunger and distrust of elite authority invites a certain type of leader. Over the past decade, Donald Trump has drawn supporters into a story about America’s breakdown and recovery that is more spiritual than political. He is the president of an anti-institutional, tradition-skeptical, experience-worshipping age, when fewer Americans go to church but plenty of them follow gurus on YouTube. The feelings of frustration and grievance that a candidate personifies are more important than his policy platform.

His message that institutions are weak, corrupt, and deserve no loyalty; his tacit promise that you can imagine prosperity into existence regardless of what the economists say; his personal domination of the Republican Party: All of this has succeeded because public confidence in every institution, not just traditional churches, has collapsed. That cynicism extends to the workplace—the institution that makes the greatest stamp on most people’s daily life. Only 21 percent of U.S. employees strongly affirm trust in their organization’s leaders. Meanwhile, the social habits that we associate with a more devout, less tolerant age—policing boundaries, banishing heretics, expecting divine retribution to rain down on your enemies—have migrated from churches to politics. Many Americans are ready to put their faith in a political savior who says he was “saved by God.”

Even as partisan politics have come to display the dynamics of fundamentalist sects, there are signs that the 60-year slide of organized religion in the West has slowed. And it might be starting a quiet recovery. After steadily rising for 20 years, the number of Americans who say they have no religious affiliation seems to have leveled off. More young men are going to church, and many of them are joining Catholic or Orthodox congregations. In England and Wales, Gen Z is leading a spike in church attendance, which has risen from 8 to 12 percent of the population in just six years.

During my reporting, I kept meeting people who had grown tired of cynicism and DIY meaning-making and made their way into ancient institutions and supernatural faith—such as Christine Flynn, who lives with her family outside Milwaukee. She spent her young-adult years perusing the New Age sections at bookstores and seeking self-actualization through her own instincts. “I figured I’d do the research, and wherever my thoughts landed, that was correct. I didn’t need to talk to anyone,” she told me. But after becoming a mother, and watching her atheist husband explore Christianity, she “got tired of being so cynical.” She began reading the books on Christianity that her husband left lying around. Now a mom of six who homeschools her kids, Flynn published a memoir last year about her path into the Catholic Church.

Conversions such as Flynn’s are part of a global story. Both Christianity and Islam are exploding outside the West. Worldwide, the proportion of people who identify as atheists—about 7 percent, according to some studies—will likely decrease in coming years. Nicky Gumbel, the Anglican priest who works with Alpha, told me that the program has found some of its greatest success in Chinese-speaking communities that are reckoning with a history of communism. “Pure secularism doesn’t satisfy,” he says. In a globalized society such as the United States, prophecies of the long-term collapse of religious faith and practice seem premature.

Humans are fundamentally religious, in the sense that we yearn to impose order on the chaos of existence and worship some source of ultimate meaning. As the Catholic philosopher Charles Taylor wrote in his 1989 book, Sources of the Self, everyone aspires to a sense of fullness—a “pattern of higher action” that connects their lives “with some greater reality or story.” He warned that “it would be a mistake to think that this kind of formulation has disappeared even for unbelievers in our world.” Secularization may reshape how we act on these instincts, but it has not eliminated them: Unbelievers will always have more in common with the Holy Rollers than they realize.

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