#so sometimes I just browse through those images than look for one in a video

[desertduo-but-everywhere]

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Just Peachy - George Weasley

Title: Just Peachy Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Pegging, male receiving oral, male fingering, slight fem!dom/sub!george, teasing, degradation. Seriously George takes it up the ass if you don’t like it don’t read it k thanks Summary: with the world wide web at his fingertips it’s only natural that George finds something new to try in the bedroom A/N: for the anon who wanted George getting pegged. Like I said in the warnings, George takes it up the ass so if that makes you uncomfy or you don’t like it don’t read! I’m also not tagging anyone as I don’t want to make anyone uncomfy or upset! Feedback is always welcome!

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Giving George a laptop and access to the internet turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. A curse because he quickly became obsessed with browsing the internet, and he spent most of his time scrolling away on reddit or with his headphones on, watching some random YouTube video. He could chatter on for hours about a thread he found on reddit or a meme he discovered when browsing on Instagram and once he discovered how to order things off of amazon it got even worse. At least once a day a package containing some random gismo or trinket arrived at the doorstep of their shared flat, and George would excitedly rip open the box and use whatever was inside for a few minutes before jumping back on his computer to order more useless crap.

But his newfound love of the internet was also a blessing. George had figured out how to connect his laptop to the tv in his and Y/N’s bedroom, and every night before falling asleep they would cuddle together in bed, watching some tv program or film on Netflix. Along with George’s obsession with shopping for useless gadgets, he’d started to pick things up for Y/N as well. It was never anything big, a box of her favorite chocolates, a candle he thought she’d enjoy the smell off, a new pair of fuzzy socks for her to wear around the flat in the winter. Just anything he saw that made him think of her.

George’s new love of the internet also did wonders for their sex life, something Y/N welcomed happily.

Along with the random cute presents George started ordering for Y/N, he also started ordering some sexy ones as well. Her wardrobe is now dripping in different sets of lingerie and her underwear drawer is filled to the brim with lace clad panties. Their sex toy collection has nearly doubled in size, with toys for them to use together or on their own being added to the mix. And thanks to George’s Pornhub premium subscription, they’ve tested out some new positions and kinks in the bedroom as well. Some were only a one time thing, others have become a permanent part of their intimate moments, but everything has been pleasurable, nonetheless. It’s made their relationship stronger and helped George ask for things he never thought he’d want, even those that may be a tad unconventional.

-

George clears his throat as he tugs Y/N closer to his side, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He can tell she’s close to drifting off to sleep by the way her chest is moving with slow deep breaths and he knows he’ll never get the chance to ask the question that’s been burning on the tip of his tongue for weeks if he doesn’t do it now. “You ever heard of pegging?” he asks into the quiet of their bedroom.

“Like clothes pegs? The things you use to hang your washing up with?” Y/N mumbles sleepily into his chest.

George chuckles and he can feel some of his nerves easing away. “No, it’s like a sex thing.”

“Like putting clothes pegs on your nipples? Sounds kinda hot,” Y/N teases, turning so she can look up at George. “Though I imagine the splinters would be a nightmare to get out.”

“Not quite,” George responds, biting his lip. “It’s, um. This thing where. The girl wears this thing, a strapon, and um. Uses it to. Ya know, fuck the guy.” George’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he looks up at the ceiling to avoid Y/N’s gaze.

“Oh,” she responds quietly, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. She rubs the flushed skin with her thumb soothingly, waiting for him to relax into her touch before she continues. “Is that something you’re interested in? Something you want me to do to you?”

“I. Um. Uh. Yes, I think so. Only if you want to,” George babbles nervously, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Y/N grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers before bringing it down so she can press a few kisses to the back of his hand. “Georgie, look at me.” When George finally looks back down at her Y/N smiles softly and squeezes his hand. “You never have to be embarrassed about this kinda stuff with me George. If you wanna try it, we’ll try it. Simple as that.”

George leans down to kiss Y/N briefly. “Just didn’t want you to think I was weird or something.”

“Of course I think you’re weird,” Y/N teases, kissing him again. “But there’s loads of other reasons for that, and none of them have to do with your sexual preferences. There’s no shame here, love. I’ll do some research and then we’ll get down into it, yeah?”

“You’re the best, you know that?” George compliments, settling back into the pillows.

Y/N hums as her eyes flutter closed, letting the sound of George’s heartbeat lull her to sleep. “Damn right.”

-

Over the next few days Y/N spends every ounce of free time she has browsing different forums and websites, trying to find out all she can to make sure the experience is as pleasurable for the both of them as possible. She watches far more porn than she ever thought she would, spends hours searching on various sex toy websites to find the perfect strapon and she does more research on lube than any person should ever do in their lives.

Y/N keeps everything a secret from George until the day they’d decided would be best to try for the first time. They choose a Friday, that way George will have time to recover from any soreness before he’s expected to be back at work and if they both find it enjoyable, possibly do it again.

While George is at work Y/N decides to grab the strapon from where she’d been hiding it in the back of the closet, so she can clean it off one last time and figure out how to properly strap it to her body, so she doesn’t have to fumble with it later. The harness she’d chosen has a part that settles into her slit, with ridges and bumps that’ll drag across her clit with every thrust. A shiver runs down her spine as the cool leather wraps around her skin and she tightens the straps, adjusting them so they fit tight on her hips and thighs.

“This is kinda hot,” Y/N mumbles as she stares down at the dildo resting at attention in between her thighs. It’s flesh colored and slightly curved, and it’s about 7 inches long and moderately thick. She wraps her hand around it, slowly moving her wrist as if she’s jacking off. “Fucking hell,” she groans as the ridges on the strap brush her clit, her hips jerking forward. Y/N wraps her hand around the base and grabs her phone off of the bathroom counter, snapping a picture to send to George.

Can’t wait to have you begging for my cock xx

George takes his phone out when he feels it vibrate in his pocket, figuring its Y/N sending him a sweet message. Ever since she taught him how to text a few months ago she’s started sending him little things throughout the day while they’re apart. Usually it’s a text to let him know she’s thinking about him or sometimes it’s a meme or a video she found that she figures he’d enjoy too.

So, when he opens his phone and is met with a picture of her hand wrapped around the dildo Y/N plans on fucking him with later his cheeks immediately turn bright red as he nearly drops his phone on the ground. His cock twitches in his trousers and he has to grip the counter in front of him and take a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. That image is going to be imbedded in his brain for the rest of the day, and he has no idea how he’s supposed to make it through the next few hours knowing what’s waiting for him at home.

“You alright?” Fred asks as he comes out of the back, taking in George’s flushed appearance.

George hums and nods, locking his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “Yep. Just peachy.”

Fred gives him a look but doesn’t say anything more, and George sighs in relief, deciding to go help some customers to keep his mind off of Y/N.

-

“God damn,” George pants as Y/N grinds down in his lap, his grip on her hips tightening and his head tilting back to give her more room to bite at his neck.

After dinner and some more talking about what the rest of their evening will look like, Y/N lead George to the bedroom to get started. They had stood in the middle of their bedroom for what felt like hours, just kissing softly as they gently undressed each other. Once they were both down to nothing, but their underwear George settled in the middle of their bed with his back against the headboard, while Y/N straddled his waist and started to grind down against him. Now a few minutes later, George is fully hard in his boxers while Y/N continues to grind on him, her lips attacking his neck and one of her hands tugging at his hair while the other pinches and rolls his nipples.

“Feel good?” Y/N teases, twisting the nipple in her hand. George lets out a loud moan and Y/N can feel George’s cock twitch against her. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she continues, kissing her way back up to George’s mouth. Y/N tugs on his hair as they kiss, just letting their mouths move together for a few moments. “Are you ready for more?”

“Yes, please,” George confirms with a nod. He can feel some nerves rumbling in his stomach still, but Y/N’s soothing voice and gentle hands have put him at ease. He hasn’t stopped thinking about this moment since he suggested pegging over a week ago, and the picture Y/N sent him has only  made him more excited. “Want you to fuck me, Y/N.”

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine at George’s words, and she kisses him briefly. “Patience, love. We gotta get you ready first. I’m gonna go get dressed. Want you to take your boxers off and lay back on the middle of the bed, yeah?” Y/N kisses George once more as he nods, before getting off the bed and heading into the bathroom attached to their room.

The strapon and lube are already waiting on the bathroom counter, and Y/N takes a deep breath as she shimmies out of her panties and grabs the strapon. She decides to keep her lacy black bralette on, as it’s one of George’s favorites and Y/N knows seeing her in it drives him wild. Y/N secures the strapon like she did this afternoon, groaning as the nubs rub against her clit. She’s already fairly turned on just from the grinding and she can’t imagine it’ll take much for her to cum once she’s fucking into George. She looks at herself one last time in the mirror before grabbing the bottle of lube and heading back into their bedroom. George is completely naked now, laying back on the bed with his head propped up by their pillows so he can watch Y/N’s every move.

“God you’re gorgeous,” George groans as Y/N comes back into the room, his eyes raking over her body. The leather straps wrapped around her skin make her thighs look even more divine, and his mouth waters as he takes notice of the dildo jutting out from between her thighs. “This is way hotter than I thought it would be.”

Y/N giggles as she settles on the bed between George’s legs, tossing the lube onto the bed next to him. “Yeah? You like my cock?” she teases as she hovers over George, attaching her lips to the base of his throat. She thrusts her hips against George slowly, letting the dildo drag against his cock.

George gasps as the dildo drags across his warm skin, a shiver running down his spine. “Shit that’s cold.”

“Sorry, baby,” Y/N apologizes as her lips start to trail down his chest towards his nipples. She lets her hot breath just barely breeze across one before she flicks at it with her tongue. George lets out a low moan, prompting her to give his other nipple the same treatment.

“It’s okay. Felt good,” George stutters out as Y/N takes one of his nipples into her mouth. He can feel the precum collecting on the tip of his cock dripping onto his stomach, and he thrusts his hips up, desperate for some friction.

“Gotta be patient, baby,” Y/N coos as she starts to kiss further down George’s body. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.” Y/N presses a kiss to the tip of George’s cock, pulling away when he groans and thrusts his hips up into her touch. “Don’t be naughty, George,” Y/N warns as she grabs the lube.

George licks his lips as he watches Y/N spread the lube on her fingers, his legs automatically opening a bit wider. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Better be,” Y/N responds as she tosses the lube aside again. She grabs the base of George’s cock with her clean hand, leaning down and sucking the tip between her lips as one of her fingers circles his entrance. She takes him down fully as she sinks the first finger into him, the noise he lets out going straight to her core.

“Oh,” George gasps as Y/N starts to bob her head on his cock, his brain focused on the way her finger feels as it moves inside of him. “Feels good,” George moans, grinding his hips down against her hand. “Feels different, but good.”

Y/N hums around George as she continues to suck his cock, the hand on the base of him twisting as she adds another finger alongside the first. She’d read many guides on the best way to prepare someone, and she moves slowly, wanting George to feel as good as possible.

Y/N works at opening up George for a few minutes, getting up to three fingers into him while her tongue teases the tip of his cock. His hips are rocking down against her hand feverishly, and little mewls are leaving his lips as his chest heaves with deep breathes.

“Fuck me please,” George begs as Y/N crooks her fingers inside of him, his hands fisting in the bed sheets. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s ready to move on to the next step.

Y/N pulls off of George’s cock and looks up at him, groaning at how beautiful he looks. His chest his flushed red and his hair is messy from his hands running through it. “Yeah, baby? You ready for me to ruin you with my cock?”

George chokes on a moan as Y/N pulls her fingers out of him, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly empty. “God yes, please. Need to feel you inside of me. Wanna be full of your cock, Y/N.”

“Such a desperate little cock slut and I haven’t even fucked you yet, baby,” Y/N teases as she lubes up the dildo. She lets out a quiet moan as she strokes it, the little nubs and ridges on the harness giving her some much needed relief on her aching pussy. “You remember the safe word, right baby?”

George nods, a whimper falling from his lips as Y/N presses the tip of the dildo against his entrance. “I remember, yes,” he confirms, taking in a few shaky breaths.

Y/N grabs one of George’s knees, pushing his leg to the side to give her more room. “You ready, baby? Ready for me to fuck you with my cock? Turn you into a little cock whore?”

“Please,” George begs. He’s rock hard against his stomach and he’s desperate for Y/N to finally sink into him. “Oh my fuck,” George moans as Y/N’s hips push forward slowly, not stopping until the dildo is in him completely and the leather straps are digging into the backs of his thighs.

Y/N rubs George’s hips soothingly, watching his face contort into some mixture of pleasure and pain. “You doing okay, Georgie? Talk to me baby.”

George slowly pushes his hips down against Y/N, a moan falling from his mouth at the sensation. It burns slightly, but in an amazing way, and George feels full in a way he never has before. “Feels so fucking good,” he whines, pushing his hips down against Y/N’s in a steady pace. “Need you to move, Y/N fuck. Please. So full of you, so full of your cock.”

“Fucks sake,” Y/N moans as she starts to move her hips, slowly pulling out of George before she fucks back into him. The noise George lets out as she starts to fuck him goes right to her core, and the feeling of the nubs rubbing against her clit prompts her to slam back into George harder. “You like the way I fuck you, Georgie? Like how my big cock stretches you out?”

“Merlin, yes,” George moans as Y/N starts to move faster one of his hands coming down to stroke his cock in time with her thrusts. “Love the way you fuck me, Y/N. Feels better than I ever thought it would.” George wraps one of his hands around his thigh, pulling his legs up to his chest. The new angle allows for Y/N to fuck into him deeper, and he lets out a long whine as the tip of the dildo finally brushes his sweet spot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there Y/N please,” he begs, as he tips his head back against the pillows.

“Such a fucking slut, baby,” Y/N teases as she starts to fuck into George harder. The bumps and ridges on the harness brush against her clit roughly, and she can feel her wetness dripping down onto her thighs. George looks absolutely ethereal, and it does nothing but push her closer to her own orgasm. His chest is red and covered in a sheen of sweat and the noises falling from his mouth are going right to her core.

George groans as the tip of the dildo brushes his sweet spot with every one of Y/N’s thrusts, and he releases his cock so he can grab his other thigh and bring his leg up to his chest, allowing Y/N to somehow fuck into him even deeper. “Only for you, Y/N. Love being your cock slut.”

“That’s right, baby. My little slut.” Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, and she wraps her hand around George’s cock, stroking him in time with her thrusts, her thumb rubbing over the tip and spreading his precum down the shaft to make her hand slide easier. “Fuck, George. ‘M gonna cum. Come on, baby. Be a good little cock slut and cum on my cock.”

Y/N’s hand on his cock pushes George over the edge, and he can feel his walls clench around the dildo as he cums, pleasure rolling through his body. Her name leaves his mouth in a loud shout as he shoots his seed all over Y/N’s hand and his own stomach.

“Fuck, George,” Y/N moans as her own orgasm washes over her, the rhythm of her hips stuttering as the pleasure rockets through her body. She releases George’s cock as soon as it stops twitching, letting her hips slow to a gentle roll before pulling out of George completely.

George releases his legs and lets them fall back against the bed, inhaling slowly as he tries to catch his breath. “Fucking Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

Y/N giggles as she crawls up George’s body, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Glad you liked it, because it was so fucking hot, George. Like so unbelievably hot.” She kisses George again, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll be right back, yeah? Gonna grab something to clean you up.”

Y/N comes back from the bathroom a few minutes later back in the panties she’d taken off earlier, with a washcloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She hands George the water with a smile as she settles between his thighs.

“Thanks, love,” George murmurs before taking a sip, nearly chocking as Y/N runs the warm washcloth along his bum. “Could have given a guy some warning,” he teases through his coughing fit.

“Sorry, love,” Y/N giggles as she wipes up his stomach. Once George is clean Y/N tosses the washcloth on the floor for them to deal with later, before crawling back up the bed. “So, feel good?”

George places the empty glass on his bedside table before pulling Y/N into a deep kiss. “My arse is a little sore but other than that yes, incredible.”

“I’ve got some salve you can use tomorrow if you want. Figured it might come in handy.” Y/N pulls back the covers so she and George can get into bed, letting him pull her onto his chest. “I love you, George.”

George chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I love you too, Y/N. Thank you for not thinking I’m a weirdo.”

“I told you,” Y/N muses with a laugh as George grabs his wand, giving it a flick so the lights in their room turn off. “I absolutely think you’re a weirdo, a weirdo who looks super fucking hot cumming on my cock.”

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Top Anon

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,288

Summary: You have a loyal follower who comments on every post under your food blog. Just who is your favorite follower and why is the new grocery boy kinda cute too?

It was a new year and the start of a new you. Well, that is, a you who was trying new things.

In the past, you always made resolutions, but that spirit ran out before the month of January was even done. But after the particularly rough time of the past year, you swore that this time would be different, that you would make a serious effort to do something new.

It was that determination that led your current situation—your kitchen countertops were covered with ingredients and cooking utensils, your cell phone resting on a near by tripod for filming purposes.

The goal for this year was to try running a blog, and since you were a bit of a foodie, it made a lot of sense to center the blog around cooking and food. The idea came to you quickly; the hard part was deciding on a name, which took a while.

Eventually, you settled on The Foodiest. Naming was not one of your strong suits, but it was enough to get the point clearly across to potential viewers.

Choosing the layout design was on the same level of easy as deciding and didn’t take more than a day or two to implement on your site. Thank goodness for the existence of pre-made layout templates that saved you the effort of having to code everything yourself.  

With of the work on that end finished, the day had finally come for you to actually cook something to post about. Seeing as how January was a cold, winter month, you chose to make mashed sweet potatoes. Not only was it one of your favorite winter side dishes, it wasn’t hard to make either, giving you the confidence that even if your writing was lackluster, at least the food would look good.

Most of the blogs you were familiar with used a combination of text and photos for readers to follow along with, but you were going to try video in place of images. You sometimes struggled to copy based on what was shown in the photo, especially when you first started cooking, so you hoped video would make it easier on budding chefs who came across your content.

Luckily, the video would be sped up and lapsed for the final post to spare people from having to watch the monotonous parts in full length.

Hands on your hips, you surveyed everything one last time to make sure it was all ready. With a satisfied nod you reached forward to tap the large, red record button on the phone.  

You debated whether or not to talk while filming but decided against it. You were nervous enough posting to the blog without having the added stress of talking.

Everything happened in its regular order: you started by peeling and chopping the potatoes, a basic step, but you took your time doing it, paranoid as ever that you would cut yourself with the knife. Next you boiled the bright orange chunks in a pot of water; then put them in a mixing bowl once they were cooked. And finally used an electric mixer to blend it all nice and smooth, adding in milk, brown sugar, and cinnamon.  

Swiping your pointer finger through the finished product, you hummed with delight at the delicious, sweet taste. You pulled out a presentable bowl from the cupboard and spooned some orange fluff into it for the final reveal. Reaching blindly towards the far end of the counter you grabbed a bag of pecans to top off the mashed sweet potatoes. You scrutinized it and added more pecans for good measure.

Doing something in front of a camera was very different than doing the same thing on a normal day. Tension leeched out of your shoulders and you exhaled loudly with your head leaned back. A sense of pride warmed your chest, especially as you returned your gaze to the picturesque bowl. It looked great and tasted even better.

There was a large portion of leftovers because the recipes you used were collected from family and meant to feed small armies of people. You did your best to eat what you could and made plans sharing the rest with friends and coworkers later.

A few days after you published the post, you decided to check the stats on your account dashboard to see what the public response to it was, if there was any at all. Google analytics was useful for counting the total number of views it received while the blog site itself tracked the likes and… a comment?

Initial shock gave way to a bolt of excitement that had your fingers tingling with energy. You clicked to read it, wondering what it may say. Fingers crossed it was something good, whether it came in the form of a compliment or some constructive criticism.

Anonymous: wow good job

The chair creaked as you sat back slowly. You didn’t know how to read that, there wasn’t a whole lot to go on. Wow good job, said sarcastically? Wow good job, said excitedly? It didn’t help that the commenter didn’t believe in using punctuation either. And since it was submitted anonymously, there was no easy way to track down who sent it.

But maybe you were being too paranoid about it. You decided to take it as a compliment and cracked your fingers before firing off a response.

Foodiest: Thanks anon! I had a lot of fun with this dish. Hope you tune in for the next one :)

Anonymous never followed up with that particular exchange but they commented on every post without fail for the next two months.

Anonymous: nevr had white chili before it was good

Anonymous: the stuffed pepper were good

Anonymous: good call with the shrimp

Of course, all of the messages were sent as anonymous, so there was no 100% guarantee that it was the same person, but your gut feeling told you that it was. Who else had no respect for grammar rules and religiously used ‘good’ as their only descriptor?

You grew to expect, and enjoy, the weekly comment left by anon and made sure to leave a nice response in return. It was hard not to feel a connection to someone who took the time to try your recipes and leave a nice message. If only you could figure out who it was or at least have a name for them besides anonymous.

Foodiest: I’m glad you liked the recipe! My gramma swore by mayo when making grilled cheese. Thanks for always liking my stuff, if you ever want to talk more feel free to message me!

There. Maybe that would make them feel comfortable to give you their name you thought as you powered down your laptop for the night.

You spent the next couple of days leading up to the new post planning on what recipe to cook. Yep. Definitely not hoping for more information about anon.

For this newest post you decided to make some Indian curry, one of your favorites. Even long after you finished cooking, taping, and cleaning, the potent scent of spices was still heavy in the air, like aromatic nirvana that had your mouth watering even with a full stomach.

You tried your best not to refresh the post every few minutes to see if anon commented but it was tough. It turned out that you didn’t have to wait long as they left a comment within twenty minutes.

Anonymous: havent cooked this yet but looks good. Never really had indian before so have to go buy the stufff first – po

Anon finally gave up a name! You let out a happy noise and read it again. Po… short and to the point, just like all of the previous responses had led you to think about them. There was no time to waste, you hurried to write back, initial typos all over the place as the words out-paced your fingers.

Foodiest: Hi Po! It’s nice to have a name to put with your words. I would recommend going to an Asian Market for the spices, they’re more likely to carry them. Let me know how it goes for you :)

Since that conversation, Po and you chatted frequently about the weekly recipe choice, whether or not it looked good and if Po had plans to make it themselves, which they often did. Po seemed to like all types of food; vegetarian, meats, drinks, desserts, even ethnic dishes from places as far off as Bolivia and Morocco.

And the longer you two talked, the more frequent the messaging became. Whereas in the beginning Po would only submit a compliment that you would follow up with a ‘thank you’, it had turned into lengthy back and forths that took up a majority of the comment section for each post. More followers joined as the months went by and you hoped that they weren’t intimidated by your blatant favoritism but it was just so easy to talk with Po. If you were being honest with yourself though, it wasn’t only that it was easy… you genuinely liked talking to them.

Every time you made a new post it was difficult to not refresh the page every few minutes to see if they had left a message. And when they did, it was like a shot of electricity straight into the system where your heart would jolt and your face would flood with heat. You were hesitant to say it was a crush given that you didn’t know what they actually looked like and the computer screen barrier made it so you were content to define it as friendship.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you grabbed your wallet and keys while putting on shoes so you could make a quick run to the store. You had big plans to make some buffalo chicken wings for the blog this week and you needed to stop by the store to pick up some ingredients that you didn’t have, namely Frank’s Original Red for the buffalo sauce and blue cheese for the dip. Being an adult and responsible for your own grocery shopping was a chore at times. 

Luckily, Winter had thawed out into Spring so there was no need for you to warm up or car or scrape your windows. You just hopped in and drove the four blocks it took to get to the store. The plan was to cross the stuff for the wings off of your list first and then browse around for some good snacks to tide you over for the next week or so. Things were going according to plan until you saw him.

A tall boy wearing an employee apron stood in front of the cracker section, his jaw line and soft looking long hair catching your eye. Then he reached up to the tallest shelf to restock some boxes his arms flexing slightly to show off his heavy biceps and his shirt rode up, exposing deep cut ridges in his lower abdomen. To put it simply, you were starstruck.

He finished with the boxes he had in-hand and went to grab more from the cart at his side when you noticed your blatant ogling. Rather than confront you about it he merely smiled and moved out of the way so that you could get to the brand that you wanted. Choking from embarrassment, you kept your head down and threw a box of Goldfish into your shopping cart, speeding to get out of the aisle and his presence.

The store was a small local business and you frequented enough to know most of the workers there but you didn’t recognize this one, meaning that he must be new. What a way to make a first impression on him. Clearly your constitution was no match for his rugged, good looks. Then he was polite enough not to comment on you objectifying him which somehow made you feel even worse about it.

You decided to end the shopping trip almost immediately knowing that you were too spooked to continue shopping lest you run into him again.

You rolled the shopping cart into an open check-out lane and started putting your things on the conveyor for the cashier to scan. It just so happened that you knew the cashier—she was a middle-aged lady who’d been at the store for nearly two years. “Hi, Y/N. Find everything you needed?”

“Hey, Eva. Yes, I did.” You tried to steady yourself. Eva had a notoriously sharp eye and wouldn’t hesitate to question you if you looked off.

She left you alone today, engaging in normal chit chat, until she had trouble scanning the bottle of Frank’s hot sauce. Eva frowned when it didn’t want to scan and tried again but the bottle slipped from her hands and the neck of it shattered. Eva cursed and huffed, hurrying to throw the bottle into the trash before more leaked onto the register.

“I am so sorry, hun! I’ll get you another.”

“It was an accident,” you assured. “I can get it myself—"

“Not a problem,” she assured you with a wink. She pulled a walkie from her hip and spoke into it. “Hey, bring me a bottle of Frank’s Original Red Hot Sauce. Quick.”

You barely had time to don your awkward smile as she talked about how her neighbor’s dog kept pooping in her yard when the guy from the cracker aisle walked up behind Eva and handed a bottle of hot sauce to her. She took it and patted his back to get him to move forward.

“Thanks, hun. Y/N this is the new grocery boy—”

“Pogue,” he interrupted. “My name is Pogue.”

_______________

Another fic where they know each other but don’t know that they do. This time featuring Pogue and his fandom accepted interest in food. I picture him to have bad messaging skills — his fingers struggle with those tiny phone buttons. 

[shooter-nobunagun]

Horny on Main (R-18)

//Random smut time; sort of a continuation from “mind games” AKA Sio discovers Adam’s collection and watches it for herself.

She stared at the DVD in her hands; even though both the title and image were, for all intents and purposes, about as vanilla as you could get, still Sio couldn’t help but blush at the thought of holding such a…lurid piece of material between her hands.

‘Calm down Sio, this is perfectly normal; it’s okay for girls to be interested in this stuff too…’

Gulping, she took one last glance around, as if half-expecting Adam to waltz in any moment—even though she knew for a fact he was currently away on a recon mission and she’d definitely be the first to know when he returned. Though she’d initially chewed him out for watching porn, a part of her curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued; what was it all about, anyway? Growing up in Japan meant the sniper definitely saw more than her fair share of 'adult’ videos and hentai offerings—down to the most depraved, obscene scenarios that bombarded her eyes every time she stepped foot inside Akihabara. And yes, she admitted to occasionally flipping through some more “grown up” fare when browsing the bookstores, though still images (and especially anime style) weren’t the same as live-action.

“B-Besides, I’m his girlfriend, I have a perfectly valid excuse for looking at this, uh, stuff…” she muttered to herself in an attempt to work up her courage. Sio vaguely wondered what Adam’s reaction would be if she ever suggested they watch porn together. Apparently, according to magazines this was a thing couples commonly engaged in, but Sio felt they’d both probably die of embarrassment first before getting turned on.

Which was why she was currently locked away in her (very) private quarters, laptop glowing almost ominously before her as she clumsily shook out the disc, her nerves getting the better of her. “My Own Service Maid”… a photograph of a petite woman in a classic maid outfit graced the cover, looking over her shoulder in either an embarrassed or shameful manner (Sio couldn’t tell) as her skirt was lifted until it reached just underneath her butt.

Sio gulped, then popped in the DVD before she could change her mind. Though her room was pretty soundproof, still she made sure the volume wasn’t too loud; lord knew how she was going to explain away the lewd noises if someone happened to hear. ‘Not that I’m super quiet myself, but hey…’

A couple of obligatory logos and copyright jargon later, Sio found herself almost mesmerized at the scene on her laptop: a young woman in a maid outfit, whom (she assumed) was supposed to be cleaning a mansion, but instead had gotten sidetracked and was now shyly teasing herself with a paintbrush she’d found. The music was distractingly cheesy, and Sio wondered for a moment if all pornos were this low-budget.

“Oh, master, please…I’m so wet, I can’t stand it anymore…”

Sio cringed inwardly at how cliché the lines were, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny her body was starting to heat up. As the maid’s actions started growing bolder, the sniper was definitely starting to feel the tell-tale signs of arousal: nipples perking up against her bra and to her slight shock, a faint, pulsing throb started up between her legs.

‘Whoa, I’m actually getting turned on by porn…and watching a girl, no less…’ Though Sio wasn’t sure if she was queer, she’d definitely had crushes on both genders before—and sometimes wondered if she’d have wound up dating Asao-san, if it weren’t for all the e-gene/DOGOO business and she ended up meeting Adam instead.

“My clit is so hard…I’m getting wet, master…” The maid had shed her panties now and was blatantly masturbating with her legs spread wide, her large chest heaving with desperate pants as the paintbrush was pushed inside her cunt; the maid pumping and stirring the makeshift toy and as juices spilled out, Sio felt something hot stain her own panties.

‘Damn it…I’m really getting wet from this…’ Face flushing with a heady lust, Sio began surreptitiously removing her uniform, not wanting to break out of this strange, trance-like state she was in. As the maid on-screen continued her self-pleasure, Sio felt her own hands mirroring the movements; one hand slipped underneath her shirt to tease her stiff nipples, while the other wriggled inside her panties and Sio couldn’t help but jerk slightly as her fingertips brushed against her clit, which was apparently swollen and already quite sensitive before she even began touching herself.

“Haah, hah…this is, pretty exciting…” Gulping, her she couldn’t help but whine slightly as the finger squeezed inside her own tight slit, now hot and sticky with her own juices as Sio began masturbating to the porn. ‘I wonder why I’m so turned on…is it because, I can do the same things she can on the screen?’ Being able to experience the same type of hedonistic pleasure as the girl in the film…biting her lips, Sio kicked off her panties, now lying half-naked on sheets that were steadily getting soaked as she played with herself.

‘Okay, I can see why people watch AVs…it’s super hot…’ All sorts of naughty thoughts were running through her head as the sniper started panting from her own fingers, nevermind what was happening on her laptop. The camera was now zoomed in to the maid’s crotch, giving Sio an incredibly erotic and detailed view of a perfectly pink, shaven pussy, dripping with so much juices that she had to wonder if it wasn’t staged. ‘Wow, it’s so pink and there’s no hair…I wonder if Adam would like it if I waxed…’ The paintbrush from the beginning of the film had made its return and was now brushing in quick, hard strokes against the maid’s throbbing clit and Sio felt her fingers reaching down to do the same, unconsciously matching the tempo on-screen.

“Ah~ I-I’m going to cum! I can’t take it anymore~!”

“S-Same…” Sio moaned, stimulating her swollen clit as her fingers became increasingly slick. “Hnng...gah, oh god I’m definitely gonna cum soon…” Her back was arching and the knot inside her was tight to the point of almost-pain; she could feel her inner walls clenching and pulsing around her digits, begging for release.

A second later the maid climaxed, squirting everywhere on the floor as she cried for what seemed like forever but Sio wasn’t even paying attention—not when she was being wracked with her own orgasm, so strong it left her gasping between the pulsating waves of pleasure while she kept rubbing her clit, trying to keep the stimulation going for as long as she could. “Ooh~ I-I’m, c, cumming…I’m cumming so hard…!” Moaning, the sniper rolled over on her side, panting for air as she gingerly pressed against her clit, letting the little aftershakes quiver all throughout her body as she lazily thrust inside, feeling her inner muscles pulsate slowly and coating her fingers with her own cum.

“Oh…man. I can’t believe I came that hard…jeeze, I made a mess too,” Sio groaned as she slowly sat up, the DVD having ended long before. Heaving a satisfied sigh, she ejected the disc and put it back into the case, intent on slipping it back into Adam’s ‘secret’ collection before he returned. “Maybe I should apologize to him…I have to admit, that was really hot…”

Though the sniper had just satisfied herself minutes earlier, her libido-hazed brain wondered what other secret goodies lay in her boyfriend’s collection as she now sat in his room… ‘I-I mean, there’s no harm in just taking a look…’ Her face turned a bright red as she pulled out another disc at random, this one with a far more provocative cover than the previous: a buxom woman with her ass lifted into the air, servicing a huge man with her mouth while another pounded from behind. 

“Uh, maybe something a little more...tame...”

After browsing around though, Sio could tell that Adam was definitely more than just a little vanilla when it came to the bedroom. Aside from that one threesome DVD, most of them (from what she could tell) seemed to be your standard heterosexual couplings, with some occasional girl-on-girl action. But even then the covers seemed to indicate a more romantic theme, rather than any of those weird, graphically-violent offerings she often saw in hentai. Despite the situation—that is, the sniper hunched over in a corner of her boyfriend’s room secretly perusing his porn stash for herself—Sio couldn’t help the smile on her face and a warm, fluttery feeling in her chest. “Adam...you’re such a sweetheart, deep down...” It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that even his tastes in porn leaned towards the cheesy, romantic kind.

“Ah...how about this one?” A beautiful woman lay on a bearskin rug, completely naked save for a handsome cloak. “Relaxation” the title read, and judging from the short summary on the back, it seemed to be a low-key, romantic morning romp between two lovers. “Seems pretty safe, and kinda romantic...”

Before she knew it Sio was once again seated on a bed, her laptop glowing but this time she was prepared: clothes completely off with the sniper nestled comfortably against Adam’s pillows, his lingering scent adding another layer of arousal aside from the video. ‘Adam...wonder when you’ll be back. I gotta make sure I’m done before he returns...’ Her worries were soon forgotten however, as the video started playing and Sio felt her body ready itself again in anticipation, fingers already lazily fingering her clit throughout the intro.

If it weren’t for the fact the two leads were pretty much naked, Sio might as well have been watching a movie. There was even a decent semblance of a plot, which apparently involved the woman’s lover having just returned from a business trip, and the couple was now getting ready to ‘celebrate’ with some spicy activities. The female actress was certainly much more buxom and voluptuous than the sniper’s own slender build, but at least her breasts didn’t look fake, and to Sio’s surprise there was a shock of matching pubic hair between her legs. It was unusual for porn to feature such ‘natural’ looks, but Sio liked it; it made things more authentic than the usual staged drivel that was often peddled. The male lead though, was built very similarly to Adam: tall and handsome, with ripped muscles and long-ish hair, but as the two actors got down and busy, she could see he was gentle, too.

“Damn, I guess I really do have a thing for muscles...” She groaned, easily transposing Adam’s face onto the actor’s impressive body. She never really noticed but after getting together with Adam, Sio realized that whenever she saw a well-muscled body, she couldn’t help but stare and admire them. Newton had caught her once pouring over a risqué magazine spread, and gently teased the sniper about her ‘muscle fetish’.

“I-It’s not a fetish! Is it a crime to look at buff guys or something... Besides, how can it be a fetish if I’m grossed out by those macho, body-building types?” Sio put the magazine down in a huff, embarrassed at having been caught indulging in her fantasies.

“Even so, it seems pretty obvious what your type is, no? And that is, men with well-defined bodies.” Jess purred, opening the mag right back to the spread on that year’s promising male athletes. “I noticed you seem to forgo the slender, ‘pretty boy’ type your country’s manga is so famous for...”

“I-I, th-that’s not—”

“Don’t be shy, Sio! I think it’s cute. It’s good to know what you want and don’t want. Lucky for you then, that Adam keeps up with his training, hmm?”

Sio walked out of the room with her face in a furious blush and an urgent need for some ‘alone time’.

Luckily for her the camera was an equal opportunist, giving the sniper abundant shots of both the male and female actors. Especially as the foreplay on the screen heated up, the woman now using her well-endowed assets to give her lover a tit-job. Like most porn stars, his penis was clean and bare with no foreskin, but that didn’t stop the sniper’s eyes from following each vigorous thrust, his powerful hips moving like a jackhammer. Although her breasts were nowhere near the size needed to pull this off, there were definitely other places where Adam was able to thrust with almost the same level of ferocity... Sio closed her eyes briefly as she remembered their last tryst, right before he headed off on this current mission. They’d decided to change things up a bit, doing it from behind for once; she could still feel the sensations of his thick cock pounding away inside her, fists clenching the sheets as she held on for dear life. When she finally woke up the next day, her nether regions were still aching tenderly, and during her shower she discovered (to her dismay) his hands had left some minor bruises along her hips. Still, it’d been worth it to be fucked completely, utterly senseless like that. Despite his brash attitude, Sio discovered it usually took a bit of coaxing on her part to convince Adam to not hold back—though she knew a part of it stemmed from his fear of hurting her again.

“Kiyaaa! You came so much...”

“That’s because your tits are too gorgeous, babe.”

She opened her eyes again just in time to see the man cum all over the woman’s face and breasts, the sticky, white liquid looking so much like icing. Her inner walls tightened and she took a break, licking her fingers as the leads exchanged some dialogue and actually moved the plot along. “Mmm...it tastes more sour today...oh well.” With her fingers now well-lubricated with her own saliva, she resumed thrusting a finger in and out, keeping the pace steady as she felt herself getting wetter. Especially as man’s statuesque backside filled the computer screen and she gave a slight moan, wishing Adam was here instead.

“Adam...I want to touch your body...” A hand reached up to massage her breast; using slow, gentle circles until her nipple perked into a sensitive, pink point. Those sexy six-pack abs, his chiseled ass and the cords of steel muscles running between his shoulders...whining about the lack of his presence, Sio continued touching herself, casually glancing at the muscles on-screen and thinking about Adam’s instead. This guy was definitely strong; she could tell by the way his biceps rippled while he spread the girl’s legs, preparing to eat her out. The view zoomed in to the girl’s crotch, all slick and wet with cum and saliva as the man’s tongue flicked about her sizable clit.

‘I wish Adam was doing that to me right now...’ Feminine cries soon echoed from the speakers, Sio ignoring pretty much everything but the actual on-screen action. Her fingers rubbed her clit a little harder as the woman started shaking from the impending orgasm, Sio getting an eyeful of gushing as her own core started throbbing. “N-Nng...uhhn, I’m getting close...” Her own juices were already making a sizable stain on the sheets as she thrust her fingers in and out, making sure to pay special attention to her little pearl. “Mmmph...it’s good...oh man, my clit feels so good...it’s so sensitive, i-if I keep going, I’m definitely, gonna...!” Her stomach was clenching as the actress reached a climax, screaming and squirting everywhere. Wishing she’d had the foresight to bring her vibrator, instead the sniper made do with her own fingers, sticking them inside and letting her walls convulse around them as she desperately humped her hand—rubbing all around the hood, underneath, even pinching the nub slightly as her hips jolted.

“Nnngg...uhhn, it’s coming...!” Thrusting her hips into the air, Sio felt the first twinges of her orgasm start pulsing through, before everything slammed down and she fell back onto the bed, jerking unevenly as she kept up the stimulation, rubbing her clit every so often and shivering from the smaller quakes. “Oooh...god, it’s so good...!” The fingers inside her were slick and sticky with her own fluids, the inner muscles still pulsing strongly as she tried to ride it out for as long as she could. Her head was buzzing with a bit of static sound, the actors’ voices strangely muffled as she gasped for breath, gently massaging her stiff breasts and patting her damp, sensitive crotch as the high slowly receded. 

“Damn...I can’t believe that felt so good...man, does porn really make this better...?” She gazed down at her hand, which definitely needed a good washing. “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about continuing...why am I so horny today all of a sudden...” This was her second masturbation session in the span of an hour, and the film was barely at the halfway point. She glanced at the door, and then at the screen again, which now showed the couple getting ready for the ‘main event’.

‘Might as well...I’ve got time...’ Besides, just watching a few more minutes of the porn turned her on again, Sio feeling herself getting wet. She gently stroked her pink clit, careful to not be too rough as she was still sensitive from earlier; still, pleasant shivers ran up and down her spine as she lay in a tangle of sheets.

The couple in the video were really going at it, now. Loud, lewd sounds were coming from the speakers and Sio gingerly turned it down just a touch, though a finger remained on her clit, swirling and teasing it until she once again felt the small shivers of an impending climax. The sniper bit her lip and dug back into the pillows, fingers stirring her insides and spreading the sticky nectar all around. This one wasn’t going to be quite as explosive as the previous one, but the pleasure was building up at a solid, steady rate. The sniper spared a glance at the screen, which showed the male literally hammering away at his lover, his balls slapping with reckless abandon as their juices squelched all over. Biting her lips, Sio started thrusting faster, mesmerized by the action and her own anticipation of what was about to happen. That moment right before the peak, what it felt like to hang onto the edge before tipping over... The couple in the film was getting closer and so was she.

“Nnng...ha, haah, ahn...!” Her eyes closed as the first powerful rush of pleasure cascaded over; the familiar pinpricks of electricity, then a burst of heat that shook her to her very core. Sio gasped for air as the waves gradually subsided, gently running her fingers between her wet thighs.

She lay there, catching her breath and watching with hooded eyes at the rest of the film. Sometime during her climax, the couple in the DVD had finished as well, and now they were engaged in some fluffy pillow-talk across the bearskin rug from the cover. She was wondering when they heck they made the transition to the floor when the door suddenly opened, Sio looking up in shock; it was too late to do anything though and unfortunately, the afterglow made her too relaxed to move.

“Sio? What in th...” The room’s owner was staring wide-eyed at her, cheeks rapidly flushing as he took in the scene before him.

“A-Adam! Uh, t-tadaima...” Sio smiled weakly at her boyfriend, a nervous giggle escaping her lips as she half-heartedly tried to cover her bare, dripping crotch. “U-Um, you’re back...”

“...Yes...okaeri,” Adam answered on instinct, still trying to comprehend just what the hell was going on. Clearly, the sniper had been enjoying some personal time, but why his room? And more importantly, just what exactly was the open laptop for? Before he could say anything else though, the ending credits started playing, and Adam instantly recognized the cheesy outro of a very particular porn title.

He took a very deep breath. 

“...Alright, I’m not even gonna ask what the bloody hell’s going on.” He dropped the duffel to the floor, not sure how to react or where to begin. “There a, reason you decided to commandeer my bed in particular? And my...entertainment, for that matter?”

Sio squirmed uncomfortably, not sure if Adam was peeved or just confused. Or a combination of both. Granted, this was not the first time he’d caught her while masturbating unawares—even though all those instances had been unintentional, she wondered if there was someone up there who just liked them to be in compromising situations—but this time, he’d caught her watching porn as well.

And right after she’d chewed him out for it, to boot.

‘Yikes...talk about eating my own words...’

Adam remained silent, only a white brow raised in a questioning manner as he stood next to the bed, arms crossed. He tapped his foot and tilted his head to the side, as if to ask ‘well?’

“Erm, I...I’m sorry, Adam...I-I was curious about, you know—p porn,” he didn’t say anything, but merely nodded, “a-and I...couldn’t help it; I know I made such a big fuss before, but...then I started wondering what it really was all about, anyway, and then...u-um...” Her voice started quivering and a wave of guilt washed over her, the realization of just what she’d done hitting her full-on. She didn’t even finish her explanation before a sob choked out, and the next thing she knew tears were falling, the sniper crying and wiping her tears haphazardly. “I-I’m, s-s-sorry...!”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes, not like this; why did she always do things without really thinking them through? ‘I really am such an idiot at times; some strategist I am,’ Sio thought glumly, it was a wonder Adam still put up with her antics. The bed creaked as Adam sat down and gently closed the laptop lid, pulling her into his lap.

“...Oh Sio.” He sighed, not saying much else but instead brushed her hair back. “...Sometimes I just...don’t quite know what to make of you, y’know?” He wiped her tears with his sleeve, before handing her a tissue for her nose. “While I am rather indignant at the fact that you had the gall to tell me off for indulging in smut, only to turn right around and sneak about my collection,” Sio winced, “I’m more wound up about the fact that you felt you couldn’t talk to me about this.” His face was not angry, but she could tell from his gaze that he was serious. “I can understand why you were upset at first—but if you really were curious, couldn’t you have just asked me about it?”

His words made her feel even worse, Sio needing a few more minutes of quiet tears before she regained enough composure. “I...I-I know...and I’m sorry I said all that...” A shudder ran down her as she tried to calm down. “It...wasn’t intentional; but sometimes, I just miss you a lot...a-and I feel, really...” Sio squirmed, burning with shame at her behavior, “...I swear, it feels like I can’t control it sometimes—I-I just, get so...horny...it’s like I can’t think straight...”

“...And so, in your, uh...lust-induced haze, you...decided to impulsively watch my porn?”

“...I’m sorry...I’m such a terrible person—!”

Sio squeaked as Adam flipped her onto the bed, hovering over her with a stern expression on his face. “Y’know, I really wish you’d stop ragging on yourself like that; for the last time, Sio Ogura, you are not a terrible person or anything of that sort. I thought we made that clear already...” A hand reached down and gently stroked her cheek, Sio shivering from such a simple gesture. “You’re the one I care about the most—the most important thing to me, ever. So to hear you think of yourself in such a, a...disparaging manner...it hurts me too, you know.”

“Adam...” His tenderness towards her could be even more overwhelming than his physical touch, sometimes. “I, I’m...I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I guess I just feel really stupid for blowing up at you, and now I’m eating my own words...” Sio couldn’t help but blush at her own blunder. “I’m...sorry I was so harsh about you watching porn...at the time, i just didn’t know what to make of it...I guess I overreacted a bit,” she heard Adam mutter under his breath ‘a bit?’, “b-but, now that I’ve...done the same, I...change my mind.” She swallowed thickly; even though Sio did feel bad about berating Adam, her pride still took a blow. “I...I’m fine if you want to watch porn in your own time. Especially when I’m not around...I miss you a lot, too...so I’m sorry...”

The room was silent for a bit, Sio wishing she could just crawl under a rock and wallow in shame. Adam meanwhile, had a rather peculiar expression on his face as he attempted to take this all in stride. Even now, it struck him at how Sio was able to surprise him, time and time again. Perhaps not all surprises were particularly pleasant, but it kept him on his toes.

“Well...I appreciate your apology, Sio Ogura. And I respect your humility in keeping an open mind.” To be fair, he’d been prepared to basically give it up if it meant keeping her happy, but with this sudden turn of events...perhaps a god existed, after all. “In that case, I...wouldn’t object to you watching my, stuff...or if you wanted to, y’know,” at this he blushed to the very roots of his white hair, “...watch something together...”

Sio’s eyes grew wide as saucers at that suggestion. ‘This is exactly what those magazines said...! So it is actually a couple thing...’ Her body flushed hotly as her eyes swept over to the unassuming set of discs on the shelf. 

“W, Well...I-I, have to admit I’d be curious to try it...” Adam raised an eyebrow at her bold response, “I-I mean, I’m just saying I’ve read about it and since I...was so rude to you and all—” Sio’s arms were flailing all over the place, the sniper in a bit of a panic at everything that had happened in the past 10 minutes. As if the situation wasn’t already awkward enough, but at least Adam seemed to have forgiven her for sneaking around his room and using his material.

“Also, I’m...still kind of horny...” Sio gave a nervous laugh, anxiously crossing her legs in an attempt to hide her wet thighs. 

Both of them blushed beet red at the implications.

“M-Maybe, you can recommend something? N-Not anything extreme but just...I dunno, one of your...favorites?” 

Adam was so stunned you could have pushed him over with a feather. Here was his girlfriend, who was usually so shy and stuttering and prone to nosebleeds whenever he got too close, now sitting on his bed half-naked and proposing he choose some smut for both of them. He gave a small nod, before going through his collection. 

A few minutes later a case landed on the bed, the sniper craning her neck to read the text. “An Openly-Exposed Hot Spring...” Sio raised an eyebrow at the name. “A...voyeuristic title?” She gave him a side eye.

“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover; it’s actually not what it seems—well, not all of it anyway. And besides, you’re one to talk, Miss High School Peeping Tom,” he gave her just as pointed a glance back.

Sio groaned. “Oh come on, that was an accident! You’re never gonna let that go, are you,” she groused.

“Considering you made no attempts to look away, no I’m not going to let you forget that anytime soon.” Adam replied evenly. Sio grumbled, but she couldn’t deny it. “Well then, if you wouldn’t mind budging up a bit there, squirt...”

She scooted to the side, Adam sighing as he climbed onto the bed. There was a moment of hesitation as he eyed the damp spots, but then shrugged and sat down. “So that explains the laptop, I guess...”

“Er, yeah...sorry...actually, I...already watched another one earlier...b-before I even came to your room...”

Adam nearly choked on his own spit at Sio’s sheepish revelation. “Wh-What?! You what? Wait, did you just say you...watched more than one?”

“...Yes...sorry...” 

“I-I uh, well...alright, sure. ‘S fine...I guess...” Adam gave a resigned shrug. His brain was basically on overload at this point from the myriad of things he’d learned about the sniper in the past couple of minutes. Not that it was bad, mind you, just...definitely surprising. Including the fact that apparently, the sniper had one hell of a sex drive. “So...out of curiosity, which one did you...choose?”

“Uh, it was like the service maid one...”

‘The solo female one...?’ While he’d always suspected, the fact that Sio admitted to watching and masturbating to a woman... 

“...So, I see you’re a woman of culture, too...” The sniper blushed and covered her face. “By the way, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but...are you, perchance, also attracted to girls?”

“E-Eh? Uh, hmm...” The sniper was caught off-guard by the sincerity of his question. “...To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it much, but...now that you say it, maybe? I mean thinking on it now, I did have crushes on girls when I was younger...but I didn’t realize it as such.”

Adam nodded. “Sure, that makes sense. Do you consider yourself...bisexual then? I-I don’t mean anything by it, just curious is all.”

Sio blinked. “Bi...sexual? What’s that?”

“It means you’re attracted to both genders, male and female.” 

The girl sat with her finger on her chin, deep in thought. “I...dunno. I’m not sure I’d say that right now, since it’s not something I’m really familiar with...but, it is possible. Or, I guess maybe I am queer, to some extent...” She shrugged. “Hey, who knows, right? Maybe I’ll figure it out later on.” 

Adam couldn’t help but smile. “Sure, love. Anywho, apologies for that odd line of questioning, but...it just seemed like something that was likely. Guess you could say curiosity killed the cat.” Without another word he popped in the disc, Sio nervously squirming underneath the covers as the disc started playing.

‘I can’t believe this is actually happening...’ 

The first couple of minutes were wrought with silence, save for the incredibly stilted, canned dialogue coming from the video. Sio could hardly look at Adam, much less try anything, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. Maybe it was too soon to be engaging in something like this, when she’d barely just watched her first porn.

Swallowing her nervousness, Sio turned her attention to the screen. Some hapless milquetoast office worker had found a hole in the wall separating the two baths, and was now peeping on a seemingly-deserted women’s bath—save for one buxom bather. Naturally, the peeper started jerking himself off as he discovered this opportunity, his cock growing stiffer and Sio blushed the camera made it clear that this pervert was well endowed. 

“Well, I suppose if nobody’s around...”

The camera switched and now it was the lady’s turn to indulge in some self-care. Fingers plunged into her swollen pussy lips, the water churning and splashing as the actress on screen fingered herself with abandon. As the action continued the sniper felt her own core tighten, as it always did when she was aroused.

‘Oh boy...I’m getting turned on...’

“U-Um...sorry about this...b, but I’m kind of, uh...” She noticed his face turn slightly in her direction, “my body...” Her insides pulsed again as the moans from the video got louder, forcing Sio to rub her thighs together to ease the pressure somewhat.

“If you need to...relieve yourself, feel free; that’s kind of the point of this.” Still, even with Adam’s encouragement her fingers stopped at her mound, unable to bring herself to actually go through. Especially since Adam himself remained so still she had to check to see if he was breathing.

“...Man, this is...awkward...m-maybe we shouldn’t do this...” On one hand, she was still fairly aroused, but on the other, this bizarre situation was kind of killing the mood. “I just...I don’t know, it feels weird..” Maybe it was the video, or maybe it was the fact that, despite being together, Sio still considered masturbating to be a private activity.

The video continued playing for a few minutes, both holders sitting in an incredibly strained silence as they watched the peeper now crawling over the fence and getting it on with the female bather. ‘Ugh, I’d rather just have Adam do that to me instead of watching...wait...’ She gave a surreptitious glance to her left; Adam looked so placid she wouldn’t be surprised if he started taking a nap.

“A-Ano, Adam...?” He twitched as she gently poked his shoulder, but nodded, “u-um, I have an idea...”

“...Yeh? You wanna stop?”

Sio shook her head. “N-No—well if this doesn’t do anything then we might as well—but, since I feel really awkward doing this to myself, c-can, could you...” she took a deep breath, “d, do the same thing to me as...the video? I-I think, I’d...prefer it if you touch me instead.”

“...Ah.” Leave it to Sio to come up with a solution, despite being more inexperienced; Adam supposed she wasn’t now head strategist for nothing. “In that case...” Taking off his jacket, he handily lifted the girl into his lap, aware of the wetness still coating her thighs. “So, like this, ‘ey?” His voice took on a mischievous tone as he slid a finger down, right into her tight slit—same as the video. A whimper from the sniper told him all he needed to know; turning the volume down a tad, he leaned in closer, holding her tight against him as his finger started pumping in and out. “My my, we’ve ourselves a rather naughty little Kitty-chan today, don’t we? First you go sneaking about my personal belongings, then you finger-fuck yourself on my bed...and you still aren’t satisfied?” His hot breath fanned the shell of her ear and Adam felt the sniper quiver, her inner walls sucking his digit in until it was buried to the knuckle. “Tsk tsk, you really are quite the pervert, aren’t you?”

“A-Ahhn...ahn, I-I, I’m—aah—sorry—!” Sio momentarily forgot about the video as Adam started to finger her, all the while whispering incredibly dirty words into her ear. He rarely got in the mood like this, but sometimes the ‘Jack’ persona would come out, if she pushed him far enough. “I, know I’m a pervert...I can’t help it, you feel too good...” Right as she said that his fingers plunged straight to her g-spot, Sio crying out from the sensitivity. “Ah—! Ah, oh god, it feels too good...m-my insides, it’s so hot...!” Breathy moans soon overtook the video’s dialogue, Sio glancing between the on-screen action and Adam’s hand that was working her sopping cunt. “Nng...A, Adam, m-my clit, too...”

“Oh? So demanding, Kitty-chan,” he teased, but obliged with his other hand; Sio let out a loud moan as he pinched the pink nub. “So, how’s this working out? Better?” Now that he was actually touching her, the video seemed less distracting and more like a background mood-setter, especially with the way they were almost mirroring the on-screen action. “You’re soaked...”

Sio couldn’t even muster a response, instead nodding as she panted from the stimulation. ‘So hot; everything is so hot...’ She massaged her small breasts, rubbing the stiff points between her fingers that caused her to arch her back. “Haaaahnn...it’s too good...! When you touch me like this... It feels amazing...your, fingers...!” She moaned and bit her hand in an attempt to not completely lose control, though it was difficult when Adam was scissoring her insides while teasing her clit. Sometimes it boggled her mind how such a small, seemingly insignificant little part of her body could unleash such pleasure when stimulated the right way. Though Sio was happy that Adam appreciated her breasts no matter how small they were, she wouldn’t deny her favorite place was that small, secret bud between her legs: a delicate pink that was now flushed a deep red and swollen with arousa. Drops of nectar leaked out and down onto the sheets, nevermind his trousers that were now stained.

“That makes me quite chuffed to hear, love,” he licked her ear and she squealed, “seems my dear Kitty-chan always has some devious ideas up her sleeve...” Hot nectar flowed down his hand and onto the sheets, Sio moaning as he curled his fingers inside to stroke her g-spot. Her cries were almost synced with that of the video at times, Adam having nearly forgotten about it—he casually glanced at the laptop, where the ‘hero’ of the show was now also fucking the actress into oblivion. Such deviant behavior...but, there was no way he could deny how hard it made him, given how readily Sio admitted porn turned her on. 

“Nnngg! How...does it feel...so, good...!” Panting, Sio fell against Adam’s broad chest, needing a bit of a break from all the stimulation; Adam sensed this and his fingers slowed inside her, though not completely stopping, lazily thrusting in and out. When her sex drive kicked in, it really went into overdrive. At first it was scary how high her libido was; it seemed like every other moment she was thinking about having sex, either with Adam or simply masturbating by herself—as often as two or even three times a day. But gradually, it did balance itself out. Though sex was still a major and integral part of their relationship, so too was the emotional support they provided for one another.

Screeching akin to a banshee’s wail grabbed both their attentions, as the porn reached the final act. The ex-peeper now furiously bounced the woman in his lap with white cum squelching out, all the while accompanied by the strangely-cheerful, elevator music background track. Ignoring the dissonance between the screaming and the soundtrack, Adam focused on the action itself.

“M-Mmnn...mou, Adam you stopped...” The sniper pouted as the fingers removed themselves, her gaping hole squeezing itself in an attempt to alleviate the tension. Love juices sluiced down her thighs as Sio made an effort to wipe them up, though she was largely unsuccessful. 

“Now love, just be patient...” He smirked and Sio recognized that mischievous tone. It was cocky and sure, much like when he became Jack the Ripper—but in the bedroom, that could only mean one thing... A second later something hot and stiff prodded against her slick entrance and Sio yelped in surprise.

“A-Adam...! Y, You, you’re...” She whined as Adam started slowly but firmly push himself into her tight cavern, though being so wet helped a great deal to ease his thick length inside her. “Ahhnn—it, it won’t fit like this! This angle...are you sure it won’t just fall out?”

Grunting, Adam shifted his hips upwards, Sio squealing as he grabbed her supple thighs and pulled them apart to help him gain more ground. “Oy love, we’ve not even started and you’re already having doubts? Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, isn’t that what they say?” Using his strength, he slowly lifted the sniper up and down; in and out, empty then filled as Sio cried from the sensations and writhed in his grip. “Would appreciate it if you would have a tad more faith, Sio.”

“I-I’m not, it’s not...ahn, aah...” Panting, Sio could hardly think of what to say, let alone speak the words. Adam’s cock filled her up in the most satisfying of ways, as her walls finally squeezed around something warm and stiff, instead of emptiness. “I, I’m just saying...i-if you slip out, it might kill the mood...ahn!” A particularly forceful thrust from the silver-haired man, as if to prove her wrong.

“Then I won’t. Simple as that.” Sio had no more quips left as Adam increased his pace, just like the film. The only audible voices now were coming from the video, as both holders were too focused on breathing to even moan or cry out. As Adam settled into a steady grip and good rhythm, she reached one hand down to lavish her clit with overdue attention. Her insides instantly tightened from the stimulation; electricity shot up her spine as she unconsciously struggled against Adam’s hold. Behind her, she heard him grunt slightly as she squeezed him, though the extra friction felt delicious.

“Aah, I’m cumming...iku, iku...!” The porn was about to come to the end, judging from the scene and the timer winding down. At this point, Sio wouldn’t be surprised if they came right after—both of them were getting desperately close, especially as she continued to fondle and tease her swollen clit. She whined through her teeth as her fingers pushed the hood back, rubbing the sensitive nub directly and pinching it lightly.

“Nnngg! C-Crap, it feels too good...my clit, it’s always so sensitive...!” With Adam thrusting deep inside her and occasionally hitting the edge of her cervix, her own hands pleasuring her body all over, Sio felt the faint pulses start to converge in her core. “O-Oh...d, dame, Adam...I, I think I’m gonna...I’m close...” 

“Hah, hah...is that so...” Hot breaths fanned her cheek, Adam himself feeling the tripwire tighten inside as well. His height allowed him to peek over Sio’s shoulder, and watching the sniper please herself was much more erotic than any porno that could be playing. Her bra was crumpled above her breasts, and her panties had long disappeared somewhere amongst the sheets, nevermind their uniforms scattered carelessly on the floor. In public, she was still terribly shy about anything remotely sexual, but behind closed doors, she could let her guard down and be herself. Knowing she trusted him enough to shamelessly show him how she masturbated was even more of a turn-on than the whole ‘fuck while watching porn’, honestly.

“Oooohh...I-I’m, I can’t anymore...” Her head sank back into his shoulder as Adam felt her walls start spasming a bit.

“Hnn...’s that so...” The video was close to the end too, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the timer. “I wonder, who will finish first...us, or—haah—that daft video...” He heard Sio gulp as she realized his words. “So love, think you can...hold out just a touch longer?”

“W-Well, when you—aah—put it that way...h-how can I not...” Sio bit back a moan as she renewed her efforts to hold back her orgasm, though that was a bit like trying to stop a landslide with a shovel. “H-How much...hnn!” Her clit gave another throb, as if actively trying to sabotage her efforts. “N-No, stop...my body, it’s...!”

The girl in his arms trembled, Adam reducing his pace to help her draw it out. Even though it was tempting to just ignore everything else and thrust until they were completely spent, that stupid video seemed to be goading him on, even though it was entirely fictional... “Hnnngg...j-just, a little more...there’s a good girl, Sio...” 

In. Out. Empty. Full. ‘Oh god...I don’t know if I can do this...! I just wanna cum...!’ Besides, Sio was getting tired--and judging by the tremors in Adam’s arms each time he lifted her, so was he. He may have had genetically-enhanced strength, but he wasn’t a tireless robot. Moaning, she stared at the numbers on the screen, trying not to think too hard about anything other than how good everything felt; her own hands fondling her breast and nipples, then giving some tender touch to her nub, Adam’s penis thrusting into her at a good pace and hitting all the right spots each time... Hearing his gasps and grunts, feeling his sweat-slicked skin pressed against her back as his strong arms supported her was just as enticing as well. Sio felt herself drooling slightly from all the exquisite sensations assaulting her senses. 

“Kyaaaaaa!! Iku! Ikuuuuuuuu!!” The fake onscreen couple reached their limit; after that, the laptop was completely ignored. Adam’s grip tightened on her thighs as he thrust into her with a desperate vigor; Sio rubbed her clit in the tight, fast circles that she always used to bring herself to a roaring orgasm. 

“Haaah! Aah! Nngg! Hnn!” Adam’s thrusts drove like a piston against her slick walls, kissing against the entrance to her womb each time. “Oooh...I-I’m—mmmmnn—c, cumming!” Panting so hard her tongue stuck out like a dog’s, Sio felt her orgasm crash through like a runaway train. A single, long wail tore from her throat, her climax hitting so hard her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head while the rest of her body twitched and jerked. A burst of juices gushed from her hole, dripping all over Adam’s crotch and onto already-soaked bed as she continued to squirt, even as her orgasm slowly tapered.

“Holy...fuck...” Adam wasn’t sure which was more impressive: the strength of his orgasm, or Sio’s. The girl was practically slathered in fluids—saliva, sweat and a generous amount of their mixed cum—panting and completely limp in his lap. His own climax had been just as mind-blowing, especially after hearing the video finish first; Sio’s walls squeezed him mercilessly as the girl herself cried and pushed back against him. He opened one eye wearily as he felt something drip down this leg, only to see a thick glob of white spunk, mixed with Sio’s nectar, slowly make their way down via gravity. He groaned and sank into the pillows, too tired to even pull his softening member out. The entire room smelled ripe with sweat and the musky odor of their voracious sex, and vaguely Adam thought about a shower. 

“Ooooh...god, that was...haaahh,” Sio had no words to describe the pleasure she felt as she slowly came down from her high. “Oh man, you came so much...I’m overflowing...” Wincing, she gently lifted herself off, Adam finally pulling out of her with a slight ‘pop’. “Urg...I’m definitely gonna feel this tomorrow...”

“Speak for yourself; christ Sio, you’re just...I don’t, I’m just...” As the sniper turned towards him with wide, guilty eyes, he regretted his words. “W-Wait, I didn’t mean anything bad by that—”

“—S-Sorry, I’m such a pervert...I, I know I can be...insatiable at times,” Adam coughed slightly as this, “s, so, I’m...glad you still put up with me...”

“Oh Sio...” Adam couldn’t help but smile slightly as he pulled her into a hug. “You know I’d never hold that against you. That being said, I’m...amazed at your, er...appetite, at times...” Adam was pretty sure if he weren’t an e-gene holder, he’d be worn out by now. He gave her a simple kiss on her forehead. “Remember Sio, I said I love all of you, as you are. And I mean that.”

“Ah, A-Adam...” Now she was shy again, cheeks turning a cute pink as she buried herself into his embrace. “Th, thanks...you’re the best...” Her libido may have been a great source of embarrassment at times, but the amount of pleasure it gave her was enough to make up for it, she decided. His chest rumbled with muffled laughter, causing Sio to blush more, but with happiness.

“...So uh, I take it we’re all cool with the AV thing then?” Adam cautiously broached the topic. “You’re fine with me watching, uh, my stuff and all that? Granted, you’re welcome to it too, now.”

Sio nodded shyly. “Y-Yeah, honestly you should do whatever you want in your private time. I’m really sorry I freaked out the first time...th, thanks for being so chill about everything...” She poked the sheets, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. “A-And also, th, thanks for your um, generosity...I promise I’ll keep it a secret between us...”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “What, the fact that we both enjoy porn?” Sio squeaked and he rolled his eyes slightly. “My dear Kitty-chan, you do realize this is quite common, right? I appreciate your consideration in keeping it on the down-low, but there’s no need to pretend otherwise.” He patted her on the head and she looked up with red cheeks. “Feel free to enjoy yourself, Sio.”

“Un...Adamu suki...” He really was the best, the sniper decided. ‘Who’d’ve ever thought I’d get such an amazing boyfriend...thanks for something at least, Invasion Objects.’ 

Yawning, Sio proceeded to crawl underneath the tangled sheets, her body now demanding some measure of rest after what she put it through. Next to her, she heard Adam shutting the laptop and putting it off to the side. before sliding underneath. She sighed as strong arms spooned her against his broad chest, eyes closing before her head even settled on the pillow.

Yeah, adult videos weren’t that bad after all...in fact they could be good...very good, indeed.

[pomnavi]

Chapters: 2/?

Fandom: 血界戦線 | Kekkai Sensen | Blood Blockade Battlefront  

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Klaus von Reinherz/Leonardo Watch

Characters: Leonardo Watch, Klaus von Reinherz, K.K. (Kekkai Sensen),

Tags: Christmas Presents, Sweaters, Knitting

Summary:

Leo wants to get Klaus a present for Christmas, but he’s not sure what to get him (and he’s woefully low on funds). Plus, would getting your (super hot) boss (that you may have a crush on) a present be coming on too strong? He’s not sure what to do, until K.K. gives him a great idea >:)

Chapter 1: Inception of a Bad Idea

Chapter 2: An Attempt was Made

Leo sat in his apartment the next day after work, browsing through the pattern books that KK had given him. There were a few books that were meant specifically for babies (understandable, given KK’s fawning over her children) but one book was marked with pink sticky note saying “This one is perfect!”. It was a book of patterns for “the boyfriend”, and KK had scrawled some hastily drawn hearts (on small sticky notes of course) next to a few items in the table of contents.

Leo smiled at her thoughtfulness. He was definitely going to make her something in return for the help.

He looked at the items that she’d marked down, but honestly some of them looked kind of… dorky. Like something a grandma would make for their adult grandson. Or a wife for a husband when they were already fifty years old. And that was definitely not the kind of sentiment Leo was trying to get across right now. (Maybe…. Someday….)

He sighed and put the book down, and then sorted through the other items in the paper bag that KK had handed him. There was an assortment of colorful yarn, most of them in pastel colors. He tried imagining Klaus wearing any of the colors as a hat, scarf, or mittens, and started cackling at the image. Klaus in pink mittens while he’s trying to take down a blood breed. Or a lavender infinity scarf while discussing something with a client. Or a mint green hat while coming in to work.

All of it seemed silly, but he had no doubt in his mind that if he earnestly made Klaus those presents, he would wear them no matter how bad they looked. Leo wanted to do his best to make something really nice that complimented Klaus.

He dug through all the different yarn skeins until he came upon a big skein of maroon. He instantly knew that it had to be this color. Klaus wore a lot of red so this would match perfectly!

He grabbed the pattern books again. He started flipping through the pages quickly, looking for a nice design. He happened upon a design for a sweater in the same book that KK hadn’t marked. It actually looked like something Klaus might wear, so Leo decided he was going to try it! He envisioned Klaus wearing it, and blushed a little.

+++

A few days later, Leo came in to work that day feeling peppier than usual. He felt motivated with his plan, and he was busy researching how to knit in the downtime between the crises that usually happened on a daily basis. He had brought some needles and a different color of yarn (a beautiful green/blue mix) in order to practice the stitches and make what was called a “swatch”.

It was earlier in the morning, and it seemed Klaus was busy that day on assignment. Steven was engrossed in his office work. Chain was nowhere to be found (as usual). Zed was in the backroom sleeping in his tank. Zapp was probably hungover. And Leo didn’t know where K.K. was, though he wished he did.

He plugged in his earbuds into his phone, with a video called “How to start knitting” pulled up. Timidly, he grabbed the needles and skein out of his backpack, making sure nobody was around to make fun of him.

Leo played the video, following the instructions and the beginning “swatch” as best he could. His hands slipped and dropped the yarn multiple times, but eventually he began to get a feel for the rhythm, zoning out while casting on stitches. He then continued onto the second row, feeling confident at how well it was going, as well as how easy it was. An hour passed, with Leo quietly knitting while listening to music.

At this point, he had completely forgotten how secretive he was supposed to be. Steven sighed at his remaining work and decided that it was just the perfect time for a coffee break. Gilbert was out too, so Steven made a pot and poured himself and Leo a cup. He was nothing if not a considerate boss… some of the time at least.

Steven grabbed both cups and made his way towards the couches in the center of the room. He saw Leo sitting on the couch, hands moving slowly but steadily, building up inches on his project with a smile on his face. “Hey kiddo, what’re you up to?”

Leo noticed Steven approaching out of the corner of his eye, and took out one of his earbuds. “I’m practicing knitting! You know, for the Secret Santa!” He grinned back at his boss.

“Oh? For who?” Steven slyly asked. He placed the cup in front of Leo on the table, and Leo carefully put away his work before picking it up.

“You know I can’t tell you that haha.” He sipped at the coffee. Not as delicious as Gilbert’s, but still a decent strong brew. Perfect for the impromptu all-nighter that they sometimes had to pull for Libra work.

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to figure out who got me! I’m scared if it’s K.K. though” Steven said, imagining the worst possible present the sniper could get him. Leo smiled fondly.

“I don’t think K.K. would give you a bad present though, she’s really nice! She even gave me the idea and supplies for my present.”

Steven raised his brow at that. “Leo, that’s because K.K. practically thinks of you as her own child. That woman would kill me where I stand without a second thought if she thought she had a passable reason for it.”

Leo struggled to hold down his snort while he was drinking his coffee, failing spectacularly and spilling a little on his jacket. He reached into his backpack for some stray napkins.

“Anyways, I got Klaus for my secret santa giftee and-“

“Wait, that’s not possible! I got-“ Leo realized his mistake and shut up, but it was too late.

“Bingo!” Steven smirked like the cat that ate the canary. “Hmnn…I see, you got Klaus huh? Must have been K.K. and Gilbert’s doing.” The older man left the conversation at that, having finished his coffee, and returned back to his work.

Leo could see a knowing smile on Steven’s face, but couldn’t figure out what the expression meant. After finishing his break, Leo went back to working on his swatch, only to be interrupted by Zapp barging into the office like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Hey pube-head! You’re coming with me, we got shit that needs doing.”

[korezlee]

Ayo, TW// I talk about weight, body image, body dysmorphia, EATING DISORDERS

Im not gonna tag the SuperMega tag cause it’s a lot and it’s a “downer” lmao

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WOOOO BOY I’ve been wanting to discuss or talk about this for awhile and I saw a mutual make a post about it so now I feel kind of safe and validated to talk about it too:

Ok so kinda off topic but this goes into what I have been thinking for a long time but IKKKkk ik comments under SuperMega videos when it’s live action mean well and don’t mean anything by it, but it’s always bothered me when people comment about Ryan losing weight.

Like at first it seems very light hearted and nothing too deep. It’s just a nice little “hey look Ryan lost weight! (Because he always brings up how he is self counscious about his body/weight etc.)

I relate to Ryan a lot and obviously many other people do to, I relate in the sense of not always being comfortable in one’s body and having some kind of body dysmorphia.

The thing is though, his weight fluctuations make me kind of concerned and I wonder if others follow behind that as well. Like ik it’s none of my business, I’m just a viewer and I only know as much as they (Matt and ryan) want their audience to see.

But putting two and two together makes me feel kinda icky.

Ik they’re human, and they’re not perfect, but the way they talk about food and eating sometimes makes me like... not want to listen to it them anymore lmao.

Like Ryan talking about not eating all day, (and Matt,) or trying something to lose weight is kind of triggering to me personally, and of course, it’s their YouTube channel, blah blah blah, I can choose to not watch them, but I think I just wanted to shed some light on it either way?? Idek I think it’s good to critique people you follow/look up to whether they want to be or not because their job is being on social media essentially, so I feel I can have a say and have an opinion on the matter.

I tend and have gone through weight flucations over the past... my whole life I guess, haha. Not just a few or several pounds, but I’ve been pretty plentiful in weight range. I wouldn’t say (nor have I been diagnosed with and eating disorder,) but I have relaizes recently that I have/had the tendencies of one.

I think sometimes they don’t realize that while yes talking about and venting about their struggles with food and body image and what not is valid, BUT it’s interesting because it seems like they don’t realize that how they’re talking about it is toxic? I don’t wanna say that because I have an obvious bias towards them, but it’s weird realization when you hear people talk about something and you’re like “do they not realize that’s like not good and they probably shouldn’t be talking about it that way?” But idk if that just my ego talking?

In essence, it just feels like they forget sometimes that while most of their audience are college students, a lot are teenagers too. (Not that college students can’t be affected as well, but they’re not are kids.)

Like... I’ve been watching them since I was 15, and my stupid little 15 year old brain hearing that stuff probably didn’t help with my issues as well too.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. On one hand I wanna be like “I’m being ridiculous and if I don’t like it then I should just stop watching it OR ignore it,” but on the other, I feel as if this goes deeper and is a fundamental flaw in them I suppose that unintentionally inflitrates into their young audience due to the normalization of diet culture and eating habits especially in America.

I don’t know if I have to go into examples of what I’m exactly talking about but I guess I mean this... *here’s a made up and simplified example of what I can recall just from memory*

Ryan: I hate my body

Matt: why you look great you’re not fat Ryan

Ryan: but I feel like I am and need to lose weight

Matt: but you’re not fat

Ryan: yeah but I still feel gross

Matt: but you’re not fat

*talks about not eating all day and then inevitably talks about losing weight in the same breathe, making the connection whether they had wanted to or not that not eating much obviously = weight lost. And then praising it.*

It just feels kinda not fucking good when it’s implied that being fat is gross or not good.

Like I feel bad listening to that shit cause I’ve gained weight back from losing it, and sometimes I think would they think I’m gross for gaining weight ya know?? And I think if a teenager who already probably has low self esteem hears that (or adult, using teenager because more impressionable,) it’s subtly telling their viewer that yes being fat is gross and not eating all day is admirable.

My rebuttable for this is my head are people saying “but Matt and Ryan usually say that they feel like shit and it ISN’T healthy.” Yes, they usually do joke and comment about their habits not being the best. I’m not saying they’re the end all be all role models for young people either, but I just think it’s something to note when they don’t explicitly say it’s bad, but it’s implied that it’s ok and normal.

I don’t necessarily blame SuperMega for not recognizing this or even really seeing a problem with these conversations, I do think it just shows how human and flawed they are and in a way trying to relate to those that have similar problems.

Again, I do know this problem goes wayyyy beyond them, and they are also part of out society where diet culture has been placed onto them and normalized.

Idk if anybody is reading this, but take it with some salt I suppose? Has anyone ever had this problem while watching and browsing their content? It’s something that I always think about but never talk avout because I feel bad for pointing out that Ryan’s weight loss is “bad,” because it’s none of my business. (The connection between that and how they discuss their eating habits and insecurities makes me think they are connected. I don’t want to say that it the CORRECT assumption to make, because I could and probably am wrong hopefully. I don’t want to come off as purely bashing to dude for wanting to look and feel better about himself.)

And if I do recall, I think I remember (I can’t remember if it was them,) saying that commenting on someone’s weight loss isn’t good because you don’t know how it was lost.

(I think I’m thinking of someone else I have no idea.)

Anyways, just trying to always looks at them in different lights instead of just praising them?? Yea lol.

Maybe I’m projecting my insecurities onto fucking YouTubers way too much but I do think that there are other people that would agree with me, but if not please let me know because I would interested to see those that think differently than me.

[movimblog]

(preview only*)

The audience for artists' moving image practices has grown extensively in recent years. Of course, the Internet has played a huge role in this. An ever-growing part of this audience is using the video-sharing platform Vimeo. This website was founded in 2004, just a year before YouTube, and since the beginning its peculiarity has been the support of high-definition videos. Compared to the Google-owned colossus, Vimeo represents a smaller presence on the Internet, the Alexa rank being 2 for YouTube and 131 for Vimeo.

For a lot of reasons which I won't discuss here, Vimeo is mostly used by professionals such as filmmakers, animators, motion graphic designers, but also by private companies and institutions, most notably the White House under the Obama administration. Artists working with moving image use Vimeo's services to upload their work, password-protect it and share it with festival programmers, curators and other professionals. They also publish teasers, trailers and excerpts of their works.

I can't tell you when (I wish I could), but out of this standard practice another quickly came: a lot of these artists started taking the password-protection off their works. By doing this, of course, the artists aim to reach a larger number of potential viewers. But this practice is linked to two common (and closely-related) film festival policies: in order to be considered for selection, the work submitted needs to be recent (with the limit usually being set as two years since its completion) and not publicly available online (that is, password-protected). For this reason, after their two-year festival tour, a lot of experimental films and videos were being set free from their passwords and released into the wild.

In this framework, one should also mention other interesting practices: when artists don't care about festivals and make their new works accessible to everyone, or when they finally publish their older works (sometimes remastered, sometimes never before released). There are also artists who come from the contemporary art world, whose works are represented and sold by galleries and shown in contexts other than those of film festivals. They too, for one reason or the other, are now playing the game of free online availability.

With an increasing number of interesting works made officially and freely available, a niche audience was born. One that is potentially growing—because the general interest in artists' moving image is visibly growing, but also because, within the demographics of artists' moving image fans, not everybody can easily attend festivals and visit galleries. Some live far from big cities, some can't move, some can't travel, some are still too young to travel. Not everyone has access to closed, selective online communities such as Karagarga. And I could go on with these examples for a while.

I recognise myself as part of that audience. As a fan, it's been a fascinating experience since I started paying attention to what was being made available online by the artists I liked. Between 2013 and 2014, I  happily enjoyed the works of Portuguese artists João Maria Gusmão + Pedro Paiva both in physical exhibitions (at the Venice Biennale and at the IAC in Villeurbanne) and online through their Vimeo account, where one can watch a selection of digitised versions of their already iconic slow motion 16mm films.

In the winter of 2016, I was discovering the contemporary North-American scene. Through blogs, newsletters and social media, names like Robert Todd, Margaret Rorison, Stephen Broomer, Dan Browne and Mary Helena Clark were popping up and there they were with their accounts full of previous works available to watch. I remember sitting at my desk, watching Mary Helena Clark's astonishing Palms (which, at the time, was the most recent work she had made available in its entirety) and feeling lucky to get to see such revealing work. It felt like a gift.

Whether it be purely strategical or emotional, releasing a piece of work online can be the easiest or the toughest decision to make for an artist. It can be the result of (quite a few) compromises: selecting only a few pieces to release, making them available for a limited time only, going back to password-protection because of the renewed interest of festivals in a certain piece. For a distributed or gallery-represented artist, the choice can be quite difficult. After all, we have to consider that nineteen years of Web 2.0 have taught us to use and share online contents in ways that can clearly clash with the traditional sense of authorship. In the case of this niche, it has become common practice to hold public screenings of pieces found on video-sharing platforms without asking for permission from the author. Surprisingly, this happens in contexts where a wide range of authorship regulations should normally be acknowledged, including film studies classes and exhibitions (See the Abounaddara / Triennale di Milano case).

In the winter of 2016, I was thus looking for a way to give something in exchange, to contribute to such a thriving exhibition of works. My contribution ended up being the online project The Moving Image Catalog. At first I only created a Facebook page where I posted links to videos. It gradually became a curated selection of works that attempts to link artists, practices and themes, in the form of a website, with a sort of index that was going to be a perpetual work-in-progress, and various social media pages. That was my small contribution—that, and the daily romantic act of (always) barely scratching the surface of this huge collection of works.

Growing up in a small town in northern Italy in the early 2000s, with almost no galleries and only three cinemas that showed only dubbed films (one of them was torn down to build an expensive clothes shop), being interested in moving images meant having to rent DVDs and watch TV, notably the RAITRE channel. RAITRE had and still has an all-nighter film programme called FUORI ORARIO, where one can catch the latest Lav Diaz, or a De Oliveira film, or a segment from an amazing and mesmerizing film whose author you'll never know (because the programmers like the idea of not presenting the segments). As FUORI ORARIO shaped generations of film lovers, my emotional attachment to moving images was also shaped by these nightly encounters in front of a small screen and not in a traditional screening room. Today, while I do prefer galleries and screening rooms to TV and computer screens, I consider the act of watching moving image works on Vimeo to be a highly aesthetic and emotional experience.

About a year ago, I was checking the Vimeo account of an artist whose work I love and who is very popular today. Going to festivals and screenings, one gets to watch the films made by this artist. I was browsing this particular Vimeo account because the said artist's work was being gradually made available for free watching. Due to the prolific nature of this artist, I often visit this account. So, I was browsing, and I noticed a change. Placed between parentheses, a brief expression is now added at the end of each title:

(preview only*)

The asterisk directs the viewer to a disclaimer message which appears in the info section below the player.  This disclaimer is addressed to professionals who intend to screen the films in public events (festivals, lectures, classes etc.). The artist asks them to contact the distributor. By doing so, the artist warns us that the Vimeo link should not be used as such for a screening. Again, the addition of the said disclaimer speaks volumes about the decisions involved for an artist when it comes to showing work online.

But let's adopt the perspective of a viewer, and not the practical purposes of the artist. Even if one understands that the disclaimer is intended for a specific category of viewers - those who use Vimeo to select works to be shown in public events - one's experience can be thoroughly modified by this indication. I consider that the sentimental experience I normally have when I watch artists' moving image works on Vimeo is not one that can be described as the “preview only” of another, possibly better, experience, such as the public projection.

Which brings me to a few questions I've been asking myself, and which I now would like to ask you:

Is there an emotional hierarchy in the aesthetic experience of watching moving images? Is this hierarchy genre-related? Should public screenings still be considered the only true experience?

Are we, as artists, paving the way towards acknowledging online audiences as audiences in their own right, and as important as the audience at public events? Or are we just riding the online wave in the sole hope of reaching more physical screening possibilities?

[superchartisland]

Super Mario All Stars (Nintendo, SNES, 1993)

Any overall roadmap for this project (and my brother’s related predecessor) is very lightly sketched, but this is a useful point to reflect on it. We grew up playing Dizzy games; part of what we’re doing is trying to reclaim video game history as we and many other Brits lived it, to demonstrate how the American-led received wisdom is a rewriting of the record. All of my research suggests that we were in the majority there -- in the UK the NES didn’t get a look in, and we’re not going to properly encounter the Game Boy until it’s a decade old.

Even this first Nintendo direct encounter is somewhat of a guess. Super Mario All Stars was a documented best-seller for the SNES, but in an absence of evidence I don’t know for sure that it was big enough to be an overall UK #1. I remember hearing about it a lot at the time, and by then the SNES had had a chance to build an audience, but remember that this blog covers games which were a #1 but not necessarily always the #1. Yet at the same time as I refute the story that Nintendo swept in to replace a dying industry -- neither happened like that in the UK -- we’re pretty keen on many things Nintendo. I have a NES Classic Mini, SNES Classic Mini and a Famicom Classic Mini sitting under my TV: loving recreations of consoles which I never owned.

In the internet era, this kind of adoption of history is probably more common. When I wrote the first version of this post I had recently watched the period piece music video for Satellite Young’s “Don’t Graduate, Senpai!” and was overwhelmed with contented nostalgic feelings, left with the power of a glimpse into a familiar and loved past. All that despite the fact I’ve hardly ever listened to the Japanese genre that it takes after, City Pop, or watched shoujo anime, and never when I was growing up. The person who it is precision targeting isn’t me. But it needn't be. There can be a feeling that is just as real, but second hand, a gravity exerted on adjacent culture that was invisible until something made me look over and notice its force.

There are lots of ways that the influences on the song and video reached me. My partner did grow up with a lot of Japanese pop culture in Hong Kong, and talking with her about that and having watched a couple of episodes of Creamy Mami means having a feel for her fond memories. I have years of happily browsing tumblr gifsets of Sailor Moon, absorbing love for it and its place in culture. I can still get good use from a “but you didn’t do anything!” meme even if I’ve never actually watched the show. I’ve listened to 80s referencing music elsewhere, and modern Japanese music taking cues from City Pop, and that has added up to giving the sounds of the song a similar personal gravity.

And all of that has been made easier by the world getting smaller, by the internet giving providing an easy route to interests you share with people elsewhere in the world and from there to interests they share that you don’t. Look at it negatively, and it means a winning narrative can travel faster and become more comprehensive than ever, reaching into places where it doesn’t belong. But at the same time, it gives us a Japanese band and some Swedish animators uniting in their shared nostalgia, and it reaching out to me through next door culture which I’ve taken in via friends from all round the world, and me having feelings shared with those friends. That’s an amazing thing.

In common with most people I knew, we didn’t have the internet when Super Mario All Stars came out, and the world was still huge. Nintendo had other tools to work with, though. Their games were successful enough to reach out and have an outsized cultural impact beyond the limits of people actually playing them. 

When I started primary school, before football stickers, there was a craze for Nintendo sticker books, and friends and I collected images of all of their games. People tried to negotiate enhanced swaps for stickers of Game Boy screenshots by maintaining that they were gold stickers, even more valuable than the special silver ones. I knew more about the characters and background for Mario through Saturday morning cartoons, and I remember watching American TV programmes where people competed through playing Super Mario Bros. levels. I assume it made it to the UK’s own Gamesmaster at some point too. And of course, many of the European games we were playing took their own influence from Nintendo. I may have been unaware of Metroid until years later, but hours spent playing Turrican still gave my first impressions of it that nostalgic gravity.

Mario was Nintendo’s most successful reach out to the wider culture, and that wider culture drove people back to Mario’s original form. That could work better for Nintendo if Mario games were easier to access, and so we get Super Mario All Stars. What to do when moving on from the NES to the SNES? Reissue, repackage, re-evaluate the games! Super Mario Bros., Super Mario Bros. 2, and Super Mario Bros. 3, now brought together in one place. With an extra track, no less, in the form of Japan’s very different Super Mario Bros. 2, new to the rest of the world and hence called The Lost Levels. From 2019 the very idea of levels being lost feels faintly absurd – someone will dig it out in a mod, or you can just log onto your alternate Japanese online console account, surely? I guess a handful of British people probably did own imported Famicoms even in 1993, but everyone else got their cross-fertilisation of culture mediated by Nintendo’s eccentric international release schedule. 

Super Mario All Stars presents each game in its entirety, complete with newly upgraded graphics. Yet, in some way, the games seem to shrink in the transition. The act of selecting a game to play from a menu, turning them into pinned specimens labelled by year, emphasises the overall history and starts you off with a reminder that each world is only a part of a newly defined whole. Maybe that's why there is no Super Mario All Stars on the SNES Classic Mini, an assessment that the bird-inside-a-bird effect of featuring a retro collection on a retro collection would be that bit too spookily recursive. 

And that idea of recursion is where the realisation struck me as I played Super Mario All Stars. It wasn't the first version of Mario I played, (it was the first Super Mario Bros. 3 that I ever played, though, the briefest of enchanting glimpses). But it feels absolutely right as my version of these games, even for Super Mario Bros. 2 where I'm pretty sure I'd never played this version before. The very sense of diminished scale, the way that All Stars exists as a Mario game aware that not only each individual game, but the games as a whole, are but a small part of the Mario out there in the world, feels totally fitting. The feeling runs through everything. The upscaled renditions of the music which expand on it but nonetheless can't escape how iconic the basic originals were. The decision to put Super Mario Bros.’ underwater waltz on the title screen with the new confidence that duh, it rules. The little portraits of what to expect that have been added to the start of each level, not spoilers but cute reminders. This is a Mario for the late to the party, an artefact of the games' immense second hand cultural gravity, reflected back into the games themselves. It's a sign of so much to come.

In reflection of it being the first time these games have come up on my route through history, here are miniature entries for each of the four games on Super Mario All Stars, pinned to one place:

Super Mario Bros.

It’s all about the movement. Specifically, the jump, the balletic means of progression which sits at the tempting boundary of predictability and control. It is not the only game jump, it was not the first game jump, but it is somehow still the Jump. When you press the jump button the moment stretches in time, a repeated joy that resounds slightly differently from Jump to Jump. Sometimes the Jump is relaxed, sometimes the Jump is tense, sometimes the Jump is a celebration of achievement. Gravity and momentum make their claim on you, and you must not reject them or bow to them, but turn towards them, take their hands, and dance. Only when you are the lead in the dance can it proceed in its full majesty. All of the subtle design, killer music and cleverly revealed secrets play their part too, of course. The richness of the world, day and night, water and dungeon, clouds and green groundclouds, isn’t to be underestimated. The dance wouldn’t be as kaleidoscopically beautiful without all of that. Fireworks might not always be necessary, but they are still fireworks. And yet it is the dance of the Jump that gives meaning to it all.

The Lost Levels

It’s common in games for many a character or object to be accompanied by its inverse, its mirror, its shadow. Maybe it’s a product of how games are made, were made, of the commonality of repetition and the short distance from repetition to repetition with a twist. Super Mario Bros. 2 (“The Lost Levels”) introduces one such shadow as almost its first move with the poison mushroom, power-up turned to power-down. It takes that to a whole new level with the negative warp zones: welcome to warp zone, now a trick on you. The whole game, in fact, is a cruel mirror held up to Super Mario Bros., a reflection that looks right but doesn’t wave back. Much of its cruelty comes from luring players into familiar actions and then turning them back against them. This game is a dance too, but it’s one where the floor is trying to throw you off, where the steps and flow that you have learned are not only impossible to use but will quicken your downfall. But for some people who already know the dance back to front, perhaps trying to freestyle your way through some spiky math-rock is an enjoyable next step.

Super Mario Bros. 2

It’s common in games for many a character or object to be accompanied by its inverse, its mirror, its shadow. Maybe it’s a product of how games are made, were made, of the commonality of repetition and the short distance from repetition to repetition with a twist. Super Mario Bros. 2 (“Super Mario Bros. USA”) is the Waluigi of early Mario games, a mirror of a mirror. It doesn’t focus on the shadows of objects and characters, though, but whole shadow worlds. Pick up a magical potion and you can open a door anywhere, take a subtle knife to the fabric of the universe, walk through the doorway and find yourself literally in shadow. Even outside of that mechanic, there are doors everywhere, and each one could go anywhere. This is the world of the subconsciousness, where possibilities extend to such things as a playable princess and gliding across the world on a gravity-resistant egg. Super Mario Bros. 2 is barely even a Mario game, and handles more awkwardly than one. Yet among all of its doors, it opens one to one of the series’s futures, platforming which is first and foremost a series of puzzles and doors to unlock.

Super Mario Bros. 3

This is the game where Mario learns to fly, tail flapping, on unseen wires in front of platforms casting shadows on a sky painted on sheets. The game is a show, and it’s some production. It has a cast of thousands and is the introduction point for almost as many iconic series images as the original. Its brilliance as sequel and as theatre is in taking the solid and dependable gameplay and mechanics of the original and using those as building blocks, the platforms of its stageset, then rearranging them. Each world rejigs and relights them and makes them interact with new props and characters for a set of dramatically different scenes. Water levels go from brief distractions to an entire world; the desert and an idyllic grassland emerge; World 7 turns off all of the lights to interact with the bare mechanics of pipes. The transitions between levels feel like curtains down and a chance to move things round. And then occasionally it breaks all the underlying rules and throws you into giant world or climbs up through the clouds, and there is nothing to do but laugh in delight. This is the game where Mario learns to fly. 

SNES chart, Edge 004, January 1994

[snibnoom]

I’ve been struggling all day with how to put my thoughts into words. I have so many thoughts and feelings when I think about ASTRO. There’s warmth and pride and happiness. There’s a cold spot of bitter anger still residing from the events of the previous year. I think about Bin, less than 2 days younger than me, 11 years old when he started on this path, and I think, wow, what a life he’s had. But because of him, because of ASTRO, I’ve had a few good years, too, and I’ve come to accept that it’s okay if not every day is a good one.

Sometimes I see AROHA’s responses to ASTRO, and I feel strange. Perhaps it’s a show put on for the sake of keeping with the internet culture that’s come to be, but the all-caps posts and the reaction images and the masses of emojis make me smile. Sometimes seeing AROHA’s responses to ASTRO make me smile physically more than whatever ASTRO just posted. And that feels weird. I feel like I should be like that, too; I feel like I should be crying or laughing or rushing to respond.

And then I realized that I feel comfortable. ASTRO are my comfort. They’re my safe place, and my love for them has become so much a part of who I am that it affects literally everything I do. Those wild feelings of happiness that I used to feel when I first was a fan are now my normal.

I found ASTRO in November 2015 by mistake. I was browsing dance cover videos on YouTube and saw a title in Korean. I was just beginning to teach myself Korean and I thought it’d be good practice to try and immerse myself more in Korean media, but I couldn’t have guessed just how far that single video would take me. That video of a couple of guys dancing in their practice room, laughing and chasing each other and falling all while looking like they’re having the times of their lives. That video is the reason why I’m here, and that video has led to my life completely changing.

I graduated high school about four months after ASTRO’s debut. Through high school, I’d developed terrible anxiety and bad habits and I was constantly stressed. My friends were no longer around; they never included me in weekend plans or made an effort to hang out after school. And after graduation I was miserable. I was, quite frankly, alone. I was bitter and angry and, honestly, a pretty shitty person. (In retrospect, a lot of the issues I went through were self made, but that realization alone isn’t one I could’ve had without having ASTRO be a part of it.)

And then ASTRO had a comeback.

I was away for a concert for another group on the day of the comeback. I didn’t get to watch the showcase as I had for debut; I was busy greeting other idols at the airport. I didn’t listen to the album until late at night; I’d been busy singing until my throat was raw along with other fans.

But as I sat in the chair in the hotel room at a time far past midnight, I listened to Summer Vibes, and something clicked. My Style began to play and I began to cry (not unlike a child, trying to hide my tears because this was stupid, why was I crying over a song?). I’d had a similar reaction months before, but it was different. Where I’d nearly cried tears of joy at hearing Puss in Boots in the highlight medley of Spring Up, I was now crying of relief. Everything that I’d held back, bottled up, and thrown chains around was released by this one song sung by 6 boys on the other side of the world. I read through the rough translations of lyrics with wildly wrong grammar and nowhere near as poetic as the actual lyrics, but I cried. I still get near tears listening to My Style if I think about the lyrics too much.

I spent a lot of time reflecting on My Style and the lyrics of ASTRO’s other songs. What had been a relatively tame interest until then grew into a monster I had no wish to tame. My love for every member grew ten fold. My love for the fans and friends I’d met multiplied. And for the first time, the thought of self love didn’t seem that far fetched.

If someone had told me right out of high school that one day I would come to love myself, I would’ve laughed. If someone had told me that one day I would be okay with having bad days, I would’ve said that’s impossible. If someone told me that one day I wouldn’t be miserable, that I wouldn’t be so anxious, that I’d live life for love and happiness, I would’ve called them crazy. But I am. I’m still growing and learning and trying to be a better person. I’m still training myself out of years of bad habits and self-deprecating thoughts, but there’s a light. There’s a spot of brightness that’s growing with ASTRO and my love for them, and now myself, at the center.

And this is still just the beginning.

To ASTRO, who may have literally saved me from myself, thank you.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Stalkers and Masks

Septics Inverted

A JSE Fanfic

These are two moments that I really wanted to address, but I felt both were too short for their own story. So I took one and made it a framing device for the other. One’s about Stacy and what she’s going through, and the other is about Marvin and one of his problems. Ehhh, probably not my best work but I’ve done these two plot points all the justice I can.

Read the intro story: Part One | Part Two

Various other AU-related stuff found here

Taglist: @evyptids​ @awkward-bullshit​ @watermelonsinmyattic​ @asunachinadoll @a-humble-narcissus @metautske​ @odysseus-is-best-boi​ @acuriousquail @beerecordings

Stacy liked to think that her computer was secure. She kept up-to-date on her antivirus software, didn’t give trust anything that asked for her security information, and kept her passwords on a sheet of paper in her nightstand drawer instead of anywhere digitally that could be hacked. However, she quickly learned that all these precautions were for naught when it came to the living glitch who decided he wanted to check on her every ten hours or so. She’d be browsing the Internet and suddenly the webpage would freak out. That didn’t mean she was being hacked (actually, technically she was) it just meant Anti decided to pop in.

Honestly, she was starting to warm up to him. Maybe that was because he hadn’t showed up in person for the last week so she didn’t have to deal with his personality. Occasionally she’d get an email or text from a blocked user, asking her how life was, if she was safe. And, well, life was better. She’d gotten a new job at a department store with better pay. The hours were good too, now she had time to spend with her kids and also get enough sleep. Things in the city seemed to have calmed down, in that there was less death and disappearance on the news.

But...something was off. There were times when she was out and about, driving the kids to places or running errands on her own, when she felt like someone was watching her. When she looked around, she usually didn’t see anyone. But there were times when she thought she saw...him. To the point where it was starting to freak her out.

One night, after putting the kids to bed, she sat down at her computer and typed a simple phrase into Google: “how to tell if someone is stalking me.” Immediately, the page froze. She hit enter several times, trying to search, but a strange, rapid staticky beeping just came out from her speakers. And it was that moment when she realized it wasn’t just something wrong with her Internet.

A fizzing of pixels later, Anti was sitting on her desk, legs dangling off the side. “What are you, seven?” she asked before her brain could catch up with her mouth.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anti said. “So what’s up with that search?”

“Are you spying on me whenever I use Google?”

“No, I just installed a program to let me know when certain words were searched. Such as ‘stalk’ or ‘stalking.’” His eye narrowed. “So? What’s the deal? Is it him?”

“I’m...not sure,” Stacy said slowly. “Sometimes I think I see him, other times I just get a...a vague sort of sense that...someone’s watching me. It’s probably nothing, I’m probably just being stupid, but...better safe than sorry, y’know?”

“Definitely, especially considering they could be magically tracking you.”

Stacy gaped at him and his nonchalant statement. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, you were there that night at the diner. You saw that magic was real. Didn’t you think something like that was possible?”

“No, I didn’t.” Stacy leaned back in her swivel chair. “I guess it never occurred to me that that was a-a possibility. I didn’t know the rules for this sort of thing. Sorry, I should have thought—I should have known.”

Anti stared at her, then glitched off the desk and into a standing position. “No, you really shouldn’t have, because nobody told you. It’s not your fault, so don’t assume it is. I could possibly give you a brief overview, let you know what you’re in danger of.”

“Oh! Th-thank you!” Stacy hadn’t realized she was apologizing for things that weren’t her fault. Force of habit, she assumed. She looked at the computer screen, where her question still lingered, unsearched, in the search bar. “Do you think...I-I mean, I know Chase doesn’t have any magic, unless he does and I didn’t know, so...are they teaming up?”

Anti considered this. “Probably. Your ex and the magician aren’t on the best terms, but they’re civil. You’d be in more danger of having the doctor or the vigilante stalking you for him, those guys are closer.”

For some reason, that simple statement made dread pool in her stomach. “H-how many of them are there again?”

“Five.”

“And...and they could all help Ch—help him follow me?”

“Mmm, probably.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Stacy sat on her hands to keep them from shaking. She’d never done anything in her life to warrant so many enemies. And, if she remembered correctly, these guys were responsible for most of the current chaos and terror in the city. She worked hard to take deep, controlled breaths. “Do you...do you have any, uh, um, any info on these guys I could see? You’re all computery, do you have files on them or something?”

“I do. But you don’t want the full files, you’ll lose sleep. I can maybe give you some edited versions...” Anti’s head tilted to one side. He stared intently at her computer screen. She watched as her browser closed and her file explorer opened. By itself, the computer navigated to the downloads folder, then five new folders appeared, each one labeled with a name, followed by (edit).

“Huh...that’s handy.” Stacy scooted her chair closer to the desk, grabbing the mouse. She stared at the folder with his name on it for a while, but she couldn’t bring herself to click on it. Instead, she clicked on the next one down, opening up the folder to reveal various .txt files.

“There used to be photos and videos in here,” Anti said, peering over her shoulder.

“Why’d you remove them?”

“How squeamish are you?”

“I mean...my daughter broke her arm once. It was all bent but I could look at it.”

“I probably made a good call then.” Anti pointed at one of the files, and it opened up. “Brief overview: guy’s a doctor. Not really, ‘cause he got booted from medical school for maltreatment. Didn’t stop him from faking graduation, getting a job at a hospital, and then stealing the patients who wouldn’t be missed.”

“This sounds like the backstory of a horror movie villain,” Stacy laughed nervously.

Anti didn’t laugh. “I’m sure the patients thought they were stuck in a horror movie.” He gave Stacy a dead-eye stare until her smile faded. Then he turned back to the screen. “Police in his home country found out. He ran, ending up here. Started a nice little black-market clinic and kept up his hobby.”

“You know I think I’ll read this one later, when it’s lighter outside.” Stacy hurried to click out of the folder. She opened up the next one instead. This one had videos as well as text files. “...should I be worried about these?” she asked, circling one of the videos with the mouse.

“Nothing explicit, just violence like you’d see in a movie. Criminals get the shit beat out of them. The works.”

“Wait...this is for that vigilante, isn’t it? The one on the news?” Stacy looked at the folder name. “That’s his real—”

“Yep. So if you see a guy who looks like this—” He opened one of the videos, fast forwarding until he got to a good image of the vigilante’s face. “—and he introduces himself to you as that, you better run. Actually, don’t, he’s probably faster than you. Distract him until you can sneak away.”

“He can’t be that bad, can he?” Stacy asked, skeptical. “I mean...getting rid of the criminals in the city? It’s like a real-life superhero.”

“Well, superheroes don’t beat confessions out of mob members and then murder them. He’s probably the safest to have a conversation with, though. Assuming you haven’t done anything illegal.”

“O-kay...then...” Stacy was starting to realize just how deep this trouble she was in really was. She could feel the beginnings of panic edging in on her, but she pushed it away. She’d let herself freak out later. “Wh-what about that magician guy? I think you called him Marvin in the diner? Can he really...magically track me?”

“Probably.” Anti closed the vigilante’s folder and opened up the magician’s. There were a lot of images in this one, what looked like pictures of pages from books. “I’ve been trying to keep track of the spells he knows, but it can be difficult. There’s a good chance he knows a tracking spell, but he probably wouldn’t use it unless someone, like your ex, asked him to.”

“...do I want to know why?”

“Eh, he doesn’t really care for spells like that. If they can’t produce effects he can see, he won’t use them unless necessary. He’s a flashy bitch like that. Has a style and sticks to it. Like that cape, which he only takes off maybe one day per week, and that mask, which I actually haven’t seen him take off yet.”

“Really? Never? Not even to sleep or take a shower or anything?”

“Sleeps with it on. And I’m don’t know about that shower thing, I didn’t put a camera in their bathroom.”

Stacy briefly wondered if his knowledge about sleeping with the mask meant he’d put cameras in the bedrooms, but she pushed that out of her mind for now. “Why? Seems uncomfortable...”

Anti laughed. “Well, a long time ago, he tried a spell he wasn’t ready for, and it blew up in his face. I’m pretty sure he’s embarrassed about what it looks like underneath there...”

“Schneep! I know for a fact you’re in there!” Marvin banged on the door. When there was still no answer, he sighed, looking around the reception room of the clinic where he was standing. He didn’t like this place. It was that kind of almost-nice that looked like it was trying to fool you into thinking it was less shady than it actually was. The good doctor really needed to upgrade his decor.

Having enough of contemplating his dislike of this place, Marvin turned back to the door and started banging harder. “Hey doc! I’m not against melting your door down if you don’t come out in the next thirty seconds!”

The door flung open, and Marvin barely jumped out of the way in time to avoid getting a whack to the face. Schneep poked his head out. He was wearing his mask, which he proceeded to pull down in order to scowl at Marvin. “There is no need for such a commotion, my friend!” he scolded. “I was in one of the back rooms, I did not hear you for a while and then it took me a tick-tock to get here.”

“Whatever. Get a security camera wired up here, or a buzzer or something. I could’ve been a customer who just decided to take business elsewhere.”

Schneep barked out a laugh. “If people come here, it is not because they have options to take business to. But enough of this, what did you want?”

Marvin shifted on his feet. “I...need you to take a look at something.”

“Oh, is that all?” A wave of relief crossed Schneep’s face. He stepped back, opening the door wide enough for Marvin to pass through. “Come in, come in, I can see what it is back here.”

Marvin let Schneep lead him into the operating part of the clinic, but he refused to sit down on the table. “It seems not so serious, so if you would please wait a moment while I take care of this...” Schneep vanished through one of the metal doors leading deeper into the building, leaving Marvin to tap his feet impatiently. He didn’t like this. First of all, this place looked like it was thrown together, and also needed an upgrade. Second of all, he was already having doubts about this, he didn’t want them to have time to fester.

Schneep reemerged, tossing an empty syringe on a nearby tray. “There we are, we will not be disturbed now,” he said. “What is it you need help with?”

Marvin started fidgeting, pulling on his fingers. “Okay. So. I am—look, I’m trusting you with this. You can’t tell anyone, alright?”

“That is no problem.”

“I’m serious. I will literally put a fucking curse on you if I find out you told anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve been working on one that can make it feel like pins are being shoved in your eyes whenever you look at something, and that something can be as vague as a specific color. Y’know, like the literal version of ‘cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.’”

“Now you are going overboard with this. I have no intention of telling anyone whatever it is this is about. This secret of yours is safe with me.”

Marvin exhaled slowly, and looked toward the ceiling. “Okay. Okay, good. Fuck. Here goes nothing.” Before he could change his mind, he reached up and undid the straps of his mask, then pulled it off. He slowly looked back towards the doctor.

Schneep’s eyes were wide. He stepped forward until he was uncomfortably close to Marvin. He raised his hand. “May I...?”

Marvin hesitated. “...fine,” he grumbled. “But take off your gloves, they’re still messy. And be careful.”

The doctor pulled off his gloves, then put his hands on either side of Marvin’s head, turning it from side to side so he could get a better look. “My god,” he muttered. “What happened to you?”

“That’s not your fucking business,” Marvin said through gritted teeth. “But they’ve been...itching for a while now, and I’m wondering if they’re infected or something.”

“I would be surprised if they were not. They look...angry.” Schneep’s eyebrows furrowed. “How old are they?”

“I think about...four years at this point?” Marvin started turning his mask over in his hands. It was hard to remember sometimes.

“Really? I would think only a couple months.”

“Doc, I’ve been living with you for two years and haven’t once taken off my mask. You didn’t think there was a reason for that?”

“Ah yes.” Tentatively, Schneep reached out and tapped Marvin in the middle of his forehead. “What is this?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Marvin yanked his head back.

“Excuse me, I am concerned! That looks like bone!”

“It’s not bone, it’s just—making my first mask out of ceramic was a really bad idea, ‘cause even magically-enhanced pottery can still shatter.”

“Why do you have ceramic embedded in your face?!”

Marvin resisted the urge to touch the places where the shards had ended up lodging. He had them memorized by now, mostly because of the dead spot in his nerves there. Forehead, upper cheeks, one between his nose and left eye, one above his right. He could have dealt with the rest of the scars, if only the shards weren’t there. “Look, I was wearing my old mask at the time this happened, it broke, I ended up getting pieces of porcelain fucking stuck to my face, can we move on?!”

Schneep raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Okay, okay, fine!”

“Thank you.” Marvin began spinning his mask around his pointer finger, using one of the eyeholes. “Anyway, can you tell if they’re infected? And can you help if they are?”

Schneep bit his lip, eyes scanning the damage. “Well, I would have to know what caused them. They look a bit like burns, but in the pattern of knife slashes. Like hot glass.”

“What?”

“Bits of broken glass, heated up so they will burn, flung at your face. That’s what it looks like. There are also parts where I am reminded of Lichtenburg figures.”

“What?” Marvin repeated, exasperated.

“When things are struck by high voltage, patterns will appear. These are not quite the same as scars of lightning, they are...bigger. But I am reminded of them.”

Marvin sighed. “You know what? Let’s just work under the assumption that someone took a hot, electrified knife and repeatedly applied it to my face, that’s probably as accurate as you’re going to get. There might also be some lingering traces of magic in there.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Well, I cannot do anything about that, but if they are itching and irritating you, I have some salves that may help. They are in the other back room, the storage one, if you would kindly follow me.”

“Alright, alright, but I hope you find this stuff quickly. Chase is making me watch his ex for him, and I don’t feel like getting into a shouting match with him over not actually doing it.”

It was around midnight when Stacy decided to go to bed. She’d tried to read through the file Anti had given her on the magician, but had to stomp halfway through. Some of these spells...why would anyone want to use spells like that? Instead, she switched to reading the vigilante’s file, managing to finish it. Then she realized it was way too late, and she had to get up early to make breakfast for the kids, get ready for work, take the kids to school, and go to work herself. That was only four things, but that was too much.

She was walking down the hall to her room when there was a knock on the front door.

Fear jolted through her. Who could be knocking this late at night? Nobody good, probably. She stood shock-still in the hallway, waiting for something else. When nothing happened, she swallowed her nerves and crept toward the living room and the front door. Maybe it was nothing?

When she flipped the lights on, the front room looked exactly the same as it had earlier that day. Except for one thing: there was now a brown envelope sitting on the floor, in the perfect position to have been pushed through the mail slot. Stacy slowly stepped forward. She peered through the peephole on the door, seeing nothing on the other side. So she looked down at the envelope on the floor, then bent over and picked it up. She turned it over in her hands.

There were words written on the back of the envelope. “Hello sweetheart.”

Stacy recognized that handwriting.

She collapsed on the couch, staring at the envelope, listening to her heart pounding in her ears.

He’d found her.

[truthofherdreams]

24 Days of Dickkory-smas

7. I work at a toy store and you keep coming in but never buy anything (+ao3)

“She’s back.”

Dick looks up at Dawn’s words. Indeed, there is no mistake about the woman walking into their store, little bell chiming above her head as she does so; it is the fourth time she’s visiting The Playing Graysons this week. She is yet to buy anything, or even to ask for help. Every time Dawn walks toward her and does her shtick, the woman smiles politely but refuses her advice, before she spends a good five minutes walking around then leaves. Rinse and repeat every day, at lunch break.

Which would be fine – people like to browse and Dick’s toy shop is doing well, especially during the month leading to Christmas. They don’t need her money to pay the bills, or anything of the like. They can survive with curious non-shoppers. Except.

Except she takes Dick’s breath away, just a little bit. He’s so used to busy moms, excited children and teenagers ready to spend their allowance; they make his main target demographic, unsurprisingly. But her – she doesn’t fit the mould, in any way. Tall and devastatingly beautiful, with clothes that look as expensive as his car, nails too perfect for a working mom and hair that speaks of high-end product. And that’s even without taking into account the way she stands and walk around, like she owns the place. Like damn fucking royalty.

He’s been mesmerized from day one, and Dawn has been trying to convince him to talk to her from day two. Which is close on ridiculous now, the way she whispers to him when the woman walks in, or how her skinny elbow digs into his arm to get his attention, or the insistent glares until the woman leaves the shop. She’s taken lessons in Annoying Sibling 101 with Donna, and it’s definitely working. Dick gets annoyed in less than a second, just from those very few words.

“Maybe she’ll buy something this time,” he grumbles as he focuses back on his laptop. He has taxes to calculate and an employee to ignore, after all, so Excel has never been more fascinating than right now.

Dawn sighs, the sound overdramatic yet harmless in her mouth, before she walks toward another potential client to help them. She’s better at the whole commercial pitch than Dick is anyway, he doesn’t understand why she wants him to handle this when she’s right there.

Which doesn’t mean he can’t glance at the woman above the screen of his laptop though. He’s only a man, single at that, who doesn’t get many chances to go out lately. Not with Gar stressing the fuck out about university admissions and final exams, not with Rachel flipping the fuck out a few days a month now that she’s getting her period, not when Donna is all over his ass about a Christmas party with all their friends. All of this, on top of taking care of the shop. His college years of whoring around are but a distant past.

So what if he looks a little, and dreams a little? It’s nothing but harmless fantasy, and the woman will soon stop hanging around the shop anyway. Just a few images to fuel his imagination at night, is all. Nothing else. Nothing more.

That is, until the woman moves closer to the counter, staring at the wall of vintage collectibles on display. She sighs loudly, taping her fingers to her mouth, deep in contemplation. It’s mesmerizing to say the least, and Dick is on his feet before his brain can even yell at him not to move. He’s not entirely thinking with his brain right now anyway.

“Can I help you?” he asks, putting on his best customer service façade.

She turns toward him, and Dick is immediately taken by the bright green of her eyes, a sharp contrast with the smooth darkness of her skin. Her lipstick matches her eyes, and her nails, her full lips stretching into a smile. Dick’s throat suddenly feels really, very dry.

“Yes, please. I need to buy some Christmas gifts, but I’m… lost, to say the least!”

“Nothing I can’t help with. Who are you buying for?”

“My best friend’s niece and nephew. I’m meeting them for the first time at this Christmas party I was invited to, and I want to make a good first impression, you know? Kinda cool, rich aunt vibe, if you know what I mean.”

Dick can’t help but drop the customer service smile for a brighter, more genuine one. He’s been trying for too long to be the cool dad to his two brats, only for them to groan loudly every time he does something incredibly lame to them, not to understand what she means. Children and teenagers are a though crowd to win over.

“Yeah, we can definitely do that! Do you know what they like?” he asks them, not so subtly pulling her away from the vintage toys on display. No point looking at those; she’ll need something flashy and new, if she wants to impress those kids.

“I know the boy is seventeen and really into old school video games, spends hours playing on those vintage consoles. I think he particularly likes Nintendo? Not sure. The girl is trickier. She’s thirteen and a bit of a mouthful according to my friend. She’s really into Game of Thrones, from what I’ve heard.”

Dick stops in his tracks.

Freezes.

Turns slowly.

She’s looking at him expectantly, her lips pressed together not to smile, her eyebrows up. Of course. Of fucking course. This explains Dawn’s behaviour, and Donna’s pushiness about that fucking party, and about everything else that happened this week. How the fuck he hasn’t realised sooner, Dick has no fucking clue.

“Dany’s her favourite character. She says she looks like Dawn,” he comments. “I’m going to assume you’re Donna’s friend, and not just a stalker.”

The woman is grinning at him now – is that what it feels like, to win the damn lottery? “Donna and I met in college. I just moved back here from the West Coast.”

Ah yes. Those dreadful years where he was – well, massive dick actually encompasses it well, all things considered. The only time in his life when he managed to drive Donna away for a while, that’s how bad things got once he no longer had Bruce’s drastic rules to keep him in line. The only time in his life when Donna’s friends weren’t also his friends, when he was an asshole to everyone around him and when he almost lost his sister-soulmate. No wonder he had no idea Donna was friends with such a beautiful woman. Donna could have moved to some deserted Greek island back then, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

“I’m Kory,” she goes on, offering her hand to shake. It’s warm and smooth, and it throws him off the loop for a hot second there. “Donna was… quite insistent about how well I would get along with her brother so…”

“So you are stalking me,” he grins.

Always count on Donna for playing matchmaker with him. It’s become her passion through the years, and he’s met so many of her friends through blind dates that he’s lost track of them after a while. Dawn helps too sometimes, when she feels like it. It doesn’t even surprise him that the Christmas party was a trap all along – when Donna wants something, she will do anything to get it.

“More like, assessing the goods,” Kory replies, and it doesn’t fail to make Dick breath out a laugh of disbelief. She’s perfectly candid about it too, like it’s normal to stalk the guy your friend wants to set you up with, every day for a week. He kinda admires her dedication there, and perhaps even takes it as an ego boost. “But I also really need gifts for the kids.”

He winks and finger-guns her, like the cringy dad he is. Rachel would kill him if she saw. “I’ve got you covered, don’t worry.”

Donna will definitely gloat when she learns that they have drinks that night but. Oh well. Her efforts did pay off, in the end.

[adstargets]

Blogger Seo Tips That Can Boost Your Traffic

There are some important Blogging SEO tips that you need. There is more to blogging than just writing and posting. You need more traffic and search engine visibility to make money blogging. Blogger SEO is basically the key to the organic traffic you need to make money. The more organic traffic you have, the better for you and your blogging career.  You may have heard or watched a lot from other experts or people that call themselves experts that you need to this and that to get traffic. All the black hat SEO strategies. You should know what am talking about by now... the fact is, there are certain Good SEO practices that you really need to boost your traffic not just for few days but for a long time.  Your blogging SEO strategy should be for long term and not short term. this means you might have to spend more time working on your blogging SEO strategy, the good news is that it pays and pays so much more than you can ever imagine. That been said, I will go ahead and lay down the best blogging SEO strategy that will boost your traffic and for a long term not just for a few days.

Blogger SEO Tips 

Having done with the introduction explaining your blogger SEO strategy and practices, lets now jump into the main deal "Blogger SEO Tips" But first, let's look at what is Seo

What is SEO

SEO basically stands for Search engine optimization. Basically, It includes all the technical practices you need to do both on-page and off-page your Blog or website according to search engines requirements which will enable search engines to rank your Blogs and websites better and faster in search engines. Since we are going to lay the most important on-page and off-page SEO practices below, Let's jump into it.

Creating XML and HTML Sitemap

The first thing you need to do and the as a blogger to boost your organic traffic is to make sure search engines especially Google crawls and sees all your pages and blog post. It is very important for search engines to crawl your pages for indexing at all times. This can be done by creating sitemaps and adding them to your site and Google webmaster tools.

It is pretty easy to create and add these sitemaps in the public HMTL folder of your website. The reason why this is must do is that It gives search engines all the information they need to know about your Blog or website structure and for humans, it also makes it easier for them to navigate your website during a search in the search engine as seen in the image above. You much create and Add sitemap to your public HTML folder and if you have time, please create.XML and HTML sitemaps for your blog or website.

Creating quality and unique content

Among all the blogger SEO tips, the most important one and I repeat the most important of the blogger SEO tips is your content. many bloggers out there think is cool to just copy and paste other bloggers post as far as their audience will read through social media or other channels they share their links.  The fact is, those copy-paste post or blogs are doing a lot of damage to your rankings and growth. Google is sure smarter than you and DO NOT endorse copy paste or plagiarism content. In most cases, those posts are not even indexed by search engines. In some cases, you get penalized for plagiarism. To avoid all that, here is what you need to do when creating quality and unique content First, do your keywords research. select few keywords research that you want to write your blog post about, outline the structure of your blog post while you make sure those keywords are in strategic places.  Creating quality and unique content is the most effective SEO strategy First, make sure the main keyword is included in the heading of the post, second, It is included in the first line or paragraph of your post, third, it is included in the subheading of your blog post, it is included in your meta description, and last but not the least, it is included at the end of your blog post.  Apart from that, make sure the keyword is mentioned a few times within the post to meet the keyword density test depending on the length of your blog post.  Another important blogger SEO tips related to content creation is, make sure your blog post is long enough. at least they are more than one thousand three hundred worlds and covers almost every related topic on the post you are writing about. this will really do you some good with ranking and search visibility.

Add Media to your blog posts

Among the search engine optimization tips you get here, You should understand that media such as images, videos and voice post cast are plays an important role in your Blog search engine optimization process. At least one image is recommended in your blog post. This because your readers are attracted to images and would rather interact with a blog post with images than the ones without images or any media in it. When adding images to your blog posts, Make sure you ad title to it and mostly it should be related to your main keyword. You can add this during upload and in the "alternative text". You can spend just a minute to even give a little description of the image in the description section when uploading the image.  There are a few sources to create images and you should make good use those online sources if you can't create them yourself.

Creating backlinks to your Blog 

Another important tip among our blogger SEO tips is creating backlinks. This can be a very difficult thing too but it is necessary. However, I will recommend to all bloggers and publishers is that, If you can't get dofollow backlinks, concentrate on building your content, when you have great content that rank high, with time you will get a lot of backlinks from other bloggers. Link building it the most difficult of all these SEO strategies and somehow the most important. What you need to write short emails to bloggers who have the same or related content like yours and ask them for link exchange or link to them and ask them to consider linking your blog post also. This will play a huge role in your search engine rankings.

Mobile Friendly Blog

If your Blog is not mobile, Please do everything in your power to make it mobile friend. First of all, run a mobile-friendly text by using google mobile test as shown in the short video below. This test will confirm if your Blog is optimized for mobile devices. This is an important step because of Google mobile ranking factor. It also gives your visitors an amazing browsing experience that makes them wanna spend more time on your browsing your pages on their mobile devices. Since mobile search surpasses desktop search, it is vital to make your website mobile friendly for your visitors and search engines especially Google.

Website or Blog Speed Test

Another important tip among our blogger SEO tips you need to know is your blog speed. Are your pages loading as fast as possible? Recently Google has put a lot of attention to how web pages open up. It is very important for your users to be able to access your blog posts or navigate your web pages as fast as possible. It is very important for your users to be able to access your blog posts or navigate your web pages as fast as possible. Many users will not be patient enough to wait for your slow website or blog to load for more than 3 minutes. This is will not only make you lose those visitors but also decrease your rankings in search engines. It is important that you check and make sure your web pages are loading as fast as possible which to enhance your visitor's experience and Google crawlers while crawling your website. See the video link below to see how you can test your site for Google speed test and see the recommendations on how to improve your site speed.

We are actually going to show you how to check your speed in Gmetrics.com and Google speed test

Link Building 

Link building is considered one of the much important SEO strategies by many online marketers. It is actually one of the most important blogger SEO tips. However, It is not easy to build links especially DOFOLLOW links from other valuable sites or blog to your own blog or website.  As I mentioned earlier, great content will get you backlinks over time as you rank on search engines and get noticed by other bloggers. Apart from waiting to be noticed by other bloggers and webmasters, I have some great link building tips for you to start with see below. Reach out to other bloggers with similar post and ask them for link exchange Do some press releases to get noticed and possibly you will be linked back from other bloggers  Create some Tumblr and Blogger blogs and write a short note and link back to each of your blog post with similar titles and keywords  Use forums such as Quora, Reddit to create mini Blogs there that link back to your blog post Share your blog post on social media groups and through blog commenting The few but effective listed backlinks tips will really help you through the ranks of SEO

Guest Blogging 

Guest blogging is another way you can actually get exposed to the world of blogging especially if you are new. Sometimes you have to give in order to receive. When you get to guest blog, you have the opportunity to create quality backlinks to your blog or website, you are listed on those blog post so definitely, you get your profile also linked to the post that is linked back to your blog or personal webpage. Through this process, you attract a lot of visitor because of your contribution to those popular blogs or sites. All you need to do is to search for popular blogs that accept guest blogging within your niche and contact for guest blogging opportunity. Take a look at their requirements and craft a great unique post so it will be accepted. Make sure you are also gaining a lot from them before you can post on those blogs.

Use nice titles tags and meta description

Title tags are a great way to increase your CTR which stands for Click through rate. Google has been using CTR to rank post and content higher recently. this is because it shows that people are interested in your blog post and its value to them. Google wants to show only valuable to content to users to enhance user experience which makes a lot of sense, this is where your title tags play an important role. Use titles such as How to create or do..., The Best..., The review..., and so on so they can push people to click on your post. The more CTR you get on your post-overtime, the more it will help in improving your rankings. When your rankings are improved, you will increase your traffic and likelihood you will make money blogging.  

Conclusions

With the above blogger SEO tips outlined above, we hope you will surely do well with your blogging career. However, we also recommend you have your eyes on the watch out for Google ranking factors as they introduce new ones periodically. We shall be pleased to hear your blogging experience in the comment section below. We are also open for your suggestions to improve the list of blogger SEO tips in this post. Read the full article

[hyenabutter]

Another show, seen recently, and not spoken of until now:

If you'd asked me back in 1998 or so, back in the days following that moment when the video for "I Am A Scientist" had blown a hole through me, if I thought I'd ever see Guided By Voices in concert, I wouldn't even understand how to answer that kind of question. I had never in my life lived in a town with more than five thousand people, and had never at that point been more than a couple of hundred miles from my birthplace in Texarkana, Texas. I had all the dreamy wistfulness of any smart teenager who hates the place they're in, but I also had all the beaten-down pragmatism of someone three times my age: I was a weird mix of total naivete and cynical self-awareness, someone who had the typical yearnings of the artsy adolescent while at the same time realizing how unrealistic those yearnings were. So to imagine myself actually doing any of those things I wanted--things like seeing bands in nightclubs with people who liked the same things I did, cool people like me--was nearly an impossibility. It's funny now that as an older person I see how not-impossible your dreams sometimes are. I'm younger than that now, etc.

So I went a couple of months ago to see Guided By Voices in Dallas. The venue they were playing, Trees, is one I'd never been to, but the name loomed large for me, remembering when I was a kid and the local rock station would always give updates that, say, Seven Mary Three or Sponge or some similar band would be playing there. I went with a couple of friends of mine, one of whom had brought along his teenage niece. Three semi-olds jazzed to see a band from their lost youth and a genuinely young person who could not be less interested--but more on that later.

After an intolerable fight with the paybox at the parking lot, we made the couple of blocks to the venue and got inside. I was hoping the opening band had already played, but when we arrived it appeared that no one had gone on yet and I prepared myself for the upcoming 90 minutes of tedium before the headliners came on. We browsed the merch table and got some water and took our places to wait.

Thankfully--again, this was an old-person show--there was no opening act, and the band walked out onstage less than fifteen minutes after we got there and immediately started up. 

It was a good show! Like a lot of people, my interest in Guided By Voices has waned considerably in the last decade or so, so much that the last album of theirs I actively paid attention to was the awesome and underrated Isolation Drills, which came out--Jesus Christ--seventeen years ago. Ever since that album, I would check in only periodically with Pollard and his output, and while there was always at least something to like--not hard when you consistently release fifty or sixty songs a year--more often than not I was underwhelmed or just completely uninterested. So I was prepared to be unfamiliar with the bulk of the material they'd be playing, especially considering they were touring behind a new album.

And I was correct: I didn't recognize the first half dozen or so songs they played, though I enjoyed them well enough. It felt strange, being someone so familiar with their early work, modest little songs for the most part, all crackle and fuzz now blown up to this enormous, Who-sized bombast, songs that felt like they could fill a venue much larger than the one I was seeing them in. I was enjoying myself, but with some reticence, until eight or nine songs in when "Motor Away" burst through the hi-fidelity murk: this song, along with a handful of others they did from their Classic Years--"Gold Star For Robot Boy", "A Salty Salute", "I Am A Scientist"--was simply head and shoulders above the rest of the material. I truly think that I'm being objective when I say that, and not being too clouded by youthful nostalgia.

But there's always a worm in the apple, isn't there.

The show, as has always been the custom for GbV, was very long. My friend's niece who came with us was absolutely not enjoying herself, and I don't blame her in the least--she's a kid, and this was definitely not her music, and when Pollard announced from the stage that they had reached song number 27 of their 54-song set, I realized the pain she must have felt having heard that. In addition to that, GbV in general and Pollard in particular are famous for drinking, and rightfully so. I had it in my mind that that part of their mystique was by now mostly done with, and more for show than anything. But drink they did, and considerably, and two-thirds of the way in Pollard was heavily slurring his words, and I found the entire thing pretty distasteful. There's a very good article in the most recent issue of The Oxford American by Noah Gallagher Shannon about the skateboarder Grant Taylor where the author speaks about skateboarding as "an outlet for certain raw but eternal preoccupations: rebellion, masochism, the blooming of individual style" and how its "worldview can often become so totalizing that commitment to it far into adulthood...can look like protracted adolescence." I had not yet read that article when I watched Pollard, a man my father's age, staggering and slurring onstage for the amusement of a couple of hundred enabling sychophants, myself included, but when I read it a few weeks later that was the image that immediately sprang to mind. 

We left a dozen songs from the end of the set, sober as judges.

[johobi]

1-Year Anniversary

Word count: 7818

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: anal, ass-play, vanilla-y smut, copious fluff

Your 1-year anniversary is fast approaching and you’re determined to gift Namjoon the one thing he would never dare ask for. 

Namjoon had been halfway through his turkey sandwich when his phone pinged. Already using the device to browse his usual social media sites, he narrowed his eyes when a banner bearing the words ‘____ sent you a video.’ descended surreptitiously from the top of the screen and disappeared before he had even a chance to react.

He cast a furtive glance around the staff-room. Half-empty, with only a few of his colleagues milling about; most of them had preferred to take lunch outside while the weather was nice. The reason for his understandable caution, was the fact that your MMS’ were usually a toss-up between harmless, goofy videos; clips of you zooming the camera into your face as you pulled some ghastly expression and performing the latest viral dance. And then there were the other videos. The hot as fuck snippets you deigned to bestow upon him at his most worthy, usually when he had gone out of his way to do something for you at great personal cost to himself. 

Or when he had actually done the inverse; irritated you so much in such a way that you decided the most fitting punishment would be to send him some tantalising glimpse of what you were doing to yourself. The trick being, that you purposefully sent them to him while he was stuck at work, tying his figurative hands. And, Jesus, he’d needed physical bonds to prevent himself from opening the filth you sent him. It’d been an impossible feat.

The images, the sounds - they were forever burned into his retinas and scored into his ear drums. The only foreseeable solution, to rid him of his raging hard-on, had been to masturbate furiously in the staff toilets. And he knew that you knew he would have to resort to it. Of course, once he’d gotten home he’d immediately railed you, leaving you sore the day after, but still.

Worth it, you’d thought, wincing as you sat on a stool in your kitchen the next morning.

Sometimes, you didn’t even need an excuse to send those videos. You’d made it clear that if you got horny, you wanted to share it with him. Especially if he was unable to watch in person. If Namjoon was honest with himself, he could barely match your libido, as monstrous as it was. He’d had his fair share of women and sexual experiences in the past, and felt himself capable of keeping up with it all – with you, however, it was an ongoing challenge, one he prided himself on meeting every time. Not just when it came to the likes of stamina, either; you were adventurous, undeniably kinky, and always had your nose in some smutty book, harvesting ideas. Or even writing them yourself. 

That was something he'd had to acclimate to after his string of more demure lovers – your openness about the whole subject; your sheer enthusiasm. The previous women he'd encountered had considered it something kept to a dimly lit bedroom. You, however, had thrown open the curtains and beckoned him into the light; illuminated his fantasies and brought them to the fore when he’d previously been too coy to share them. Up until that revelatory conversation, though, he’d avoided the subject out of a desire to prevent your feeling pressured. Predictably, the honest drunk that he was, Namjoon had eventually spilled his dark wishes during a rather tipsy date night.

“Anal?” you'd smirked, tilting your head to consider him as though seeing him anew.

“Yes,” Namjoon sighed, his hands coming up to wave away the words that he'd said. “But it’s literally just a fantasy. I don’t expect you to find it appealing, or even entertain the thought of doing it with me, at all. So, please don’t panic.”

You snorted. “Who’s panicking? I’m glad that you told me, Namjoon,” your voice dropped low as you eyed him over your fifth glass of wine, and he gulped. He’d half expected you to burst out into a sinister cackle.

So, looking down at his phone now, he knew it was 50/50 as to whether the video he was about to open in the staff-room was explicit. You'd sent no accompanying message but for the party popper emoji, which alone made him nervous. Luckily, his earphones were already plugged in, so no risk there – he’d learnt that most valuable of lessons when previously opening one of your gifts in a public place. Namjoon would never forget the many faces of disgust that turned to glare at him during his very apparent, very accidental display of perversion.

He inhaled deeply before pressing ‘play’.

And probably held it for the next 30 seconds as the sinful contents of the clip rolled before his eyes.

Namjoon was beside himself. With excitement, with arousal, with a mourning for the staff toilets that he wouldn’t be able to make it to. Not with the impressive erection he was now toting. And yet, he remained glued to his seat, feverishly tapping the ‘play’ button once more, desperate to see if he had merely been a victim of his lustful imaginings, or if you had actually done that for him.

The video had started unassumingly on your face, your peaches and cream smile disarming his apprehension and sending his heart soaring. The tone quickly changed, however, when one side of your mouth dropped into a wicked smirk, making eye contact with your intended recipient. 

The camera’s view descended to graze the expanse of your underwear-clad form, your feet planted on the bedspread and knees already parted. You’d hastily propped the phone against something and sat back, treating Namjoon’s eyes to a feast as you whipped off your panties and flung them off-camera, your hand shooting out to retrieve a bottle of lube from the side-stand. He felt himself salivate in anticipation, fully expecting your slickened fingers to part your lips and allow him that most alluring view of your pink interior, but he should have known better than to expect the ordinary.

Indeed, you bypassed your pussy altogether, leaving him momentarily confused. And turned on. A certainly bespoke combination he had yet to experience until now. But all thought abandoned him, then, when you began to line your asshole - that tight ring of muscle he’d fantasised about fucking in the darkest, dampest of his dreams - with lube. Such a lascivious vision had him gasping. 

Once, twice, you slathered the puckered orifice with the substance on your fingers before pushing one experimentally inside. You’d inserted it only halfway, but thrown your head back, then, arching into the meagre penetration. Namjoon knew you were putting on a show for him, riling him up. 

And it was working beautifully. 

He watched, transfixed and slack of jaw as you traced shapes inside of yourself, stretching the unyielding hole out for something bigger. He wondered, then and there - despite how seasoned he was in matters of sex - if it were possible for him to cum in his pants like a teenager watching his first porn video.  It seemed a certainty when he resorted to palming himself under the table, like some rabid sexual deviant. But the pressure, it was too fucking much.

“Mmmm,” you’d moaned softly, a second finger sliding into slight resistance as it entered you. “Namjoon-ah. I’m prepping myself for you. Are you looking forward to the thirteenth?”

Too overwhelmed to have ascertained the meaning of your words on his first watch, Namjoon began to sweat when he realised that you were referring to your upcoming 1-year anniversary.

Inferring what you could possibly have meant would prove fatal. Or, it would be, if Namjoon was anything more than lobotomised when faced with the vision of you, spread-eagle and loosening yourself up. Your index and middle finger pulling, simultaneously, the most obscene and divine sounds from your body that he had ever heard. The only thing that came close were the times you’d somehow coaxed his barely responsive cock into a round three, and by that point your pussy was so flooded with your joint bodily expulsions that the squelching became as pivotal in getting him off as your taste, touch and voice.

Schluck. Schluck. Schluck.

Namjoon nearly bit through his lip trying to stifle the grunts of approval he was itching to release.

With a sigh, you’d withdrawn your fingers and pulled something from the draw in your side-table before flopping onto your stomach in front of your phone. You waved the object back and forth before the camera, your chin propped up in one hand. How the fuck did you manage to look so cute, so innocent despite having just fingered your asshole on film? And, now, taunting him with what appeared to be an intimidatingly large butt plug?

“I’m working up to this, Namjoon-ah, because you’re a big boy. But I’ll be ready for the thirteenth. Will you?” you’d grinned, then stopped the recording with a wink.

No, I won’t be fucking ready, Namjoon thought, his head spinning. He briefly wondered if his light-headedness was a physical attestation to all the blood in his body rushing to his excruciatingly engorged dick.

Glancing around with all the agitation of a fugitive on the run from the authorities, he clamped the lid on his lunchbox, tossing away the leftovers of his sandwich in the direction of the bin. Then, with some trouble, he clambered to his feet, pressing his vexingly small lunchbox to the outcropping in his pants and forcing himself into a half-convincing walk of nonchalance. He shouted a brief see you later to his colleagues who had no time to react before he was already gone and dashing - as well as a man could with such a cumbersome protruberance - to the toilets.

Namjoon had spent the next two weeks caught between excitement and trepidation. You hadn’t mentioned the video or its contents since, and when he’d brought it up you’d feigned ignorance with a knowing twinkle in your eye. When your bedroom activities continued as normal – well, as normal as it gets when you’re with someone as avant garde as you when it came to sex – Namjoon decided not to press the issue, and that whatever prep you were subjecting yourself to during his working week was to remain a tantalising mystery until your anniversary. 

Which, somehow, was today. 

It’d felt like one prolonged, harrowing slog to reach this point. Namjoon had actually resorted to leaving his phone at home. Because one day, as he left for work, he realised that he couldn’t trust himself not to wank to the often-worshipped material stored on his phone. Not even during school hours. It had become a twice, thrice-daily necessity.

You appeared to monitor his suffering gleefully. Though neither of you spoke a word of it - even in the throes of the ecstasy you found in each others’ arms each night - Namjoon knew you could tell nothing else would occupy his mind. You’d taken to wearing decidedly clingy skirts and pants that accentuated your ass in a way that set him on a simmer. Now, like most humans, Namjoon spent a decent portion of his daily life entertaining filthy thoughts, and yet, somehow, you’d managed to crank up this relatively benign behaviour into something that disrupted his ability to sleep, communicate with other people and otherwise maintain his focus on something other than the delectability of your asscheeks and the treasure waiting for him between.

But, today was the day.

In fact, it was more than the day.

It was already the evening, and he'd cleared away the dishes from the three-course meal he insisted on preparing. The meal that you had balked at given its size, and your obvious plans for dessert. You’d blushed, then, apologising profusely, gearing up to explain just why you wouldn’t be able to eat all of it. 

And that was when it had clicked for him.

What a fucking idiot I am, he’d despaired inwardly. Namjoon had done his utmost to ensure that he had in no way, shape or form pressured you or outwardly let on how eager he was to partake in your proffered after-dinner activity. And yet, there he had been, laying before you a huge fucking bowl of minestrone, spaghetti - bread sides and all - and a black forest gateau. The expression on your face would have almost been comical had he not been cursing himself for being so inconsiderate.

In the end, he ate most of it, and quickly stashed the rest away in the refrigerator.

“Let’s skip the gateau,” you suggested, an impish smile playing on your lips. “So we can get to business.”

“And what business would that be?” Namjoon played along, his back to you as he washed up the remnants of your meal.

Without looking, he could tell you were stifling a laugh. “You want to explore my black forest, right?”

“Oh my God,” he bent over the counter, soap suds soaking the front of his shirt, though doubled-over in cringe as he was, it went unnoticed.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled. “I’ve had to bite my tongue over so many joke opportunities the last few weeks, I couldn’t deny myself that one.”

“That’s fair,” Namjoon croaked, when he finally recovered his breath. “And, I daresay, a little humour will help loosen me up a little.”

You opened your mouth to shoot back what he was sure you considered an absolutely genius response, but Namjoon was on the ball now and raised his eyebrows at you in a way that had you shutting your mouth with a guilty pout. You were quick, he had to give you that.

“Are you done yet?” you mumbled as you walked up behind him, looping your arms around his waist. Namjoon cast an adoring smile down at your small hands; soft and warm, perfectly made to fit into his. He had so many fond memories of holding those hands. Fluffy, oversized sweater sleeves that had begun to pill towards the ends obscured them somewhat. It was like receiving a hug from a small, demanding sheep. 

And, to be honest, it’d been wholly unexpected that you hadn’t been waiting for him on the bed, already naked and with a rose between your teeth, cheesy quip at the ready, when he got home from work. In fact, today was the only day out of the last two weeks that you had draped yourself in such modest clothing; an old, holey sweater and some baggy sweats of Namjoon’s that you seemed overly attached to. Was this also part of your plan?

When he didn’t answer, so caught up in his head as he was, your hand burned a deliberate trail from his stomach to the front of his pants. He felt you grin against his back when he froze under your touch. “Hmm?”

“Y-Yes, I’m nearly finished,” he cleared his throat, the croak belying how much he was anticipating what was to come.

You didn’t free him from your pointed groping, however. Instead, you began to smooth the flat of your hand against his previously inert – and, now, rapidly stiffening – penis, the movement causing the most minute of frictions. Surely, it was more an affectionate touch, intimate and almost polite, as though you were introducing yourself to the appendage that would be spearing you deeper than you’ve ever felt before. But Namjoon found you irresistible in every way – that even just the scent of your clothes, your hair, your gentle petting – was enough to bring him fully to attention. Soon enough, he was rocking into your open palm, his eyes closing with the soothe of your strokes. The few dishes he hadn’t yet cleaned tumbled from his grasp into the water so he could brace himself against the sink when you gripped him suddenly, fully encircling his girth with your fingers.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hmm?” you questioned coyly, pulling the collar of his shirt down to press a long, deliberate kiss to the back of his neck.

“Don’t hmm me,” Namjoon squirmed, your lips sending a thrill as fresh as the first day he kissed you through him.

“Turn around,” you ordered seductively, and he was helpless but to comply under the spell you had cast over him.

When he acquiesced to your command, he almost felt his soul depart when his eyes met with the blown-out, black pools that confronted him. Namjoon was entranced when you descended to your knees, your hands already agilely working at the strings of his sweat pants. He'd indignantly defended himself when you accused him, one day, of being one of those mystifying people who actually tied them.

Unwrapping him like a present, you slid the soft material down his legs, casting an appreciative glance over the stretch of his gloriously long, toned legs as they revealed themselves to you. Clad only in his boxers, now, you held his gaze as you nuzzled your face against his straining bulge, mouthing at his balls.

“Nngh,” Namjoon grunted, large hands reaching down entangle themselves in your hair. “Baby, you’re going to kill me tonight. Don’t be surprised if I don’t last far into the main event.”

You pouted without an ounce of sincerity. Namjoon envisioned that, internally, you were grinning like a Cheshire cat and steepling your fingers.

“I’ll just hurry this along, then,” you shrugged, carefully peeling down his underwear and taking him into your hand, giving him a few encouraging pumps. Then, without warning, you opened your mouth wide and took the entirety of his length into it, the angry, red head of his cock nudging your tonsils as he came to rest against your tongue. Namjoon almost collapsed at the sudden shock of pleasure panging its way along the stretch of his dick and setting his abdomen alight.  Involuntarily, a guttural groan tore itself from his lungs.

“Oh my—fuck, baby,” he keened, his fingers digging far more harshly into your scalp than he probably realised.

“Mmm?” you moaned around his length, gaining a similarly throaty response from him.

Aware that you wouldn’t be able to tease him for too long, you dragged him from the honeyed recesses of your sweet mouth. Your lips, instead, encompassed the tip of his quivering cock, greedily lapping at the pre-ejaculate seeping from its slit. With his saltiness coating your tongue, you sealed your lips around him as you coaxed him back into your mouth, working the underside of his member with an adept tongue.

“Baby, I can’t—“ Namjoon warned, and you dislodged him with a lewd ‘pop’ and a smack of your lips.

You raised your eyebrows up at him from your kneeling position. “Wow, have I gotten you that worked up already?”

Namjoon glared at you. “There has been a certain mental warfare going on these past few weeks, and deep-throating me as soon as you get my pants off is not fair.”

You acknowleged his accusation with a lip bite that had him pulling you up to his height and crushing his lips to yours; a kiss so fierce and raw with need that his insides churned in excitement. He wasn’t one to enjoy the taste of himself, usually, but tonight, upon your sultry tongue, it only enticed him further. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck to pull you flush to him, but you pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. When he drew back, dizzy and confused, you gestured between your woolly sweater and his glossy cock, and neither of you could hold back a chuckle when you envisioned what a terrific mess he would make of it.

Sweeping the oversized garment over your head in one, fluid motion, Namjoon was nearly winded when he drunk in the sight of what you had been hiding beneath. And when you took off the sweats…

There had, indeed, been a plan.

Your underwear was black, sheer and left nothing to the imagination; you weren’t normally the type to splash out on lingerie, as you were both in agreement that luxuries had to be kept to a minimum on your tight budget. And yet, you had spent your own, limited monthly allowance on something to please him. It made his heart and dick pulse in tandem.

What made him throb more than anything, however, was ��the lower half of your lingerie choice.

Crotchless. Panties.

If it were physically possible at this stage, Namjoon felt himself grow exponentially more aroused. When you twirled to give him the full view – indeed, the back was also open – he began to fist his cock in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of the strain, but you were quick to slap away his hand.

“Uh-uh. What are you doing?”

“If I don’t fuck you, and soon, I am going to die. Literally, I am going to die,” he ground out between gritted teeth. “So hot-foot it to the bedroom. Now,” he ordered, advancing on you. He could tell by the tremble of your bottom lip that you were having a hard time maintaining your unaffected facade. You loved it when he switched roles.

“Make me,” you huffed churlishly, and Namjoon narrowed his eyes on you. You were well aware misbehaviour would land you in deep trouble.

“Oh, I will,” he growled, throwing you over his shoulder with minimal effort, taking delight in your squeal of surprise. As he stalked toward the bedroom you wiggled your legs in the air, a petulant behaviour he halted immediately with a swift smack to your exposed backside.

“Fuck!” you squeaked, quieting in his hold.

Namjoon smirked.

Once over the threshold, you were unceremoniously dumped onto the bedspread in a fit of giggles. You dragged him with you, the momentum of your falling body pulling him conveniently to your chest where he began to paint a cluster of feverish kisses. His teeth tugged the scant material of your bra aside to expose one of your breasts. Target successfully located, your breath hitched when he latched his lips to your pebbled nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub between reverent kisses and exultations of your sexiness.

“You are so,” a kiss, “fucking,” another, “beautiful,” he panted against your skin, now dusted pink under his ministrations.

One not being enough for him, Namjoon kneaded your other breast with a soft but covetous hand, and despite your writhing, your other nipple was not exempt from being teased. Pinching it between his index and middle finger, he had you mewling beneath him, pliant and willing. Your pussy pulsed with the heat of what felt like a thousand suns, and yet you were the opposite of dry; you could feel your excitement coating your outer lips and dribbling toward tonight’s intended destination - your diligently trained asshole.

“Namjoon-ah,” your voice was a strained whimper. “Fuck me, please.”

His nose was brushing your navel as you said those words, and he halted his deliberate advance to your pussy.  “You want to skip this?”

You nodded your head breathlessly. “I’m a madwoman, but yes. You’re not the only one barely hanging on. I need you in me.”

If he couldn’t tease you in the way that his tongue longed to, he would make do with the alternative. “Tell me what you want from me, baby.”

You turned full brat, jutting out your bottom lip and scowling at him under heavy-lidded eyes. “I just told you.”

“You need to be more specific than that, baby,” Namjoon cooed, kneeling between your spread legs and running a feather-touch of a finger along the expanse of your oozing slit. He drew your juices onto his fingertip and raised it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the delicacy and sucking the digit clean, pinning you in place with a heated gaze as he did so.

You knew this was torturing him, too.

You decided to play dirty.

Hoisting yourself up onto your elbows so that your faces hovered but inches apart, you held him there, captivated, as the following words spilled sinfully from your lips. “I want your cock so deep inside me it’s painful. I want you to stretch out my tight little virgin ass.”

Namjoon’s lip curled almost imperceptibly as your filthy demands met his ears. The desire, the hunger he had for you was so great he felt almost feral. Like an animal that was responding to a primal call to rut his bitch into oblivion. He groaned low in his throat and went to close the gap between you, but you stopped him for the second time that evening and held him there as you edged him, mentally, further.

“Come so deep in me that there isn’t even a trickl—ungh!”

Your head collided with the mattress as he forced you onto your back again, your vision swimming when he consumed you in another breath-stealing kiss, his lips worshipping yours in a frenzied plea for entrance; one you eagerly granted him. Tongues clashing in a battle for dominance, he won when you felt the unmistakable entrance of one of his fingers into your sopping mess of a pussy, the two of you moaning as one for very different reasons.

Namjoon pulled back to gasp his disbelief. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t need to warm you up much at all. Do you want me in your ass that much?”

“Yes, yes,” you whined. Just one of his slender fingers granted only the most maddening  relief; you had what you desired, but it was nowhere near enough. “More,” you begged, pawing at his arm. “More, please.”

“As you asked so nicely,” Namjoon purred, his middle finger sinking into place beside the other. Feeling that tantalising stretch, and the distant, but familiar build of an orgasm in your belly, you began to undulate into his languid penetration, arching your spine as though pulled toward the centre of your mounting pleasure.

Half-amused and half turned on beyond belief as he watched the flickering of expressions over your face, Namjoon began to tease you again. “I thought you wanted to get straight to it, baby?”

“Shhh,” you hissed, your eyes scrunched shut. “I—I think it would be best if I came first, get me to relax more, don’t you think?”

Forever a willing accomplice and abettor in your illicit quests for pleasure, Namjoon grinned. “I definitely think that’s best.”

He turned his attention back to your gyrating hips, and lowered his face level with your mound. The view from here never failed to enrapture him; the swell of your breasts as they heaved over laboured breaths, the way you would thrash your head from side to side as though possessed. Everything about you drove him to the brink of insanity. Namjoon watched it all assiduously as he sunk his mouth to the parting of your folds, his pulse skyrocketing when you began to wail his name. Your swollen clit secured delicately between his plush lips, he sucked against the charged bundle of nerves, the force with which he applied himself greatly determining the loudness of your barely coherent sobbing. When he sensed you getting close, he released you from his agonizing seal, only to attack you with the exacting lashes of his expert tongue. Your toes began to curl, your entire body trembling under the tension of your impending orgasm. “O-Oh fuck, N-Namjoon, please, I—“

“Tell me, baby. What do you need?” he would draw this out for as long as he could, as recompense for the past two weeks of torture.

“Let me come. Oh, God, please, let me just—“

The pacifist was gone. You decided to take what you were being denied. Your hands, previously snarled in the mess of sweaty bed sheets, flew to the platinum blonde locks atop his head. With a dire insistence, you pressed his face harder to your pussy, and although logistically you knew it would not help your cause to suffocate him between your legs, you just needed the weight of him there.

His breath fanned against your twitching orifice in a muffled chuckle. But he relented, seeing fit to put you out of your misery. Adding a third finger to the fray, Namjoon upped the tempo of his thrusts and re-adhered himself to your painfully engorged clit, swirling his tempered tongue around it to stimulate you past the edge.

It did not take long.

“F-Fuck, I’m coming, Namjoon, don’t stop, please,” you howled, your voice hoarse from your frequent exhortations.

As though he were symbiotically experiencing your descent to the peak, Namjoon could not help but grind his neglected cock against the mattress in his excitement. 

He curled the fingers embedded inside of you to rub your most pivotal spot. And, almost as if he'd sent a bolt of lightning through you, you immediately became rigid but for the hoarse, gasping groans that he stole from your straining lungs. Waves following waves following waves of unbridled pleasure racked you, your pussy pulsating against his fingers – so intensely you thought you might crush them –  until you were nothing but a limp, spasming ragdoll, glistening under a layer of perspiration. 

Extracting himself from your clenching orifice, Namjoon’s breath hitched when he saw your asshole winking sordidly at him as you rode out the remainder of your orgasm.

That’s where he would be going next.

“All good?” he asked thickly, nursing his erection with a few loose, teasing strokes, enough to keep him at his most turgid.

“More than good,” the words whooshed out of you as you exhaled, dragging the oxygen into your lungs with rapid breaths. God knows how long you’d stopped breathing for during the apex of your orgasm. You’d come so hard that your hearing was comfortably muffled. A quiet, monotonous tone rang through your ears.

Still, no rest for the wicked.

Despite being suitably sated, your desire to satisfy your boyfriend sparked a different kind of hunger within you. Kneeling up on the bed, he spread his arms to allow you to unbutton and rid him of his shirt, unsure how it had even made it to this point still on his person. Fully nude, you let your hands wander over his lithe, bronzed torso, occasionally raking your nails against his flesh. 

Namjoon’s muscles tensed under your cursory touches, before he was pulling you up by your chin to behold the sheer lust in his eyes. “I need you,” he murmured. 

That was all he had to say. You were ready.

With a nod and a smile, you placed a chaste kiss upon his lips before turning away and fishing out the bottle of lube Namjoon had come to know so well from the video. You were still sopping wet, and you daresay that might be just enough to lubricate you, but from your past few weeks’ experiences, you'd come to enjoy the silky feel of the substance, and you knew that more was always better.

“Would you like to do it, or shall I?” you offered, gauging his reaction. He no longer seemed nervous about the proposition, and it must have had a lot to do with how laid-back you were being about the whole thing. The orgasm certainly helped.

Namjoon was only half-present, his mind flitting back to the way you had so boldly penetrated yourself in the video. He wanted - no, needed - it to be his fingers. “Can I?”

“I was hoping you would ask that,” you grinned, your tongue swiping your top teeth. “Be my guest.”

You handed over the pump-operated bottle and lay back on your elbows again, legs wide and inviting. Dispensing a generous amount onto his palm and warming the lube between his hands, Namjoon’s eyes roved hungrily over the way you presented yourself to him. His cock twitched impatiently. “Let me know, at any stage, if you want to stop. Okay?”

“You know I will,” you dismissed him casually, though his consideration was always gratefully noted. “I’ll let you know what feels good.”

Nodding his approval, Namjoon gestured to you to prop yourself on a pillow, which you hastily did. The position wasn’t uncomforable, but a little strange - like you were about to receive a gynaecological exam. 

The sheer difference in diameter between your tense, furrowed asshole and your other, more seasoned orifice made him swallow thickly. Just imagining cramming himself into such a tight fit, God, it was almost enough for him to combust.

“Try and relax,” he soothed, when his fingers made first contact with it.

Although you were trying your best not to tense up, the lube was still a little cool, and in your enthusiasm you were becoming as taut as a bowstring. “Sorry,” you whimpered, your cheeks brushed with rubies. “I’m excited.”

“Excitement comes later. For now, just chill, baby,” Namjoon ordered.

As gently as he possibly could, Namjoon began to ease his index finger into your ass. The first thing that hit him was how much warmer it was than your pussy. He'd never even experimented with his own ass in the past, so he had no idea what it felt like inside. And now he was taking his first, tantalising glimpse into that world, and he was already trembling with untold anticipation.

“Fuck, it’s so tight, I can barely move,” he whispered, eyes alight with awe.

“I know,” you grunted; one finger wasn’t too much trouble for you after your recent trials, and indeed the only thing causing you discomfort was your impatience for him to stretch your – physical and mental – limits further. “That’s fine, that feels good. Move it around a little, like you saw me do in the video, and add another finger.”

Both happy to see you so eager and keen to comply, Namjoon very tentatively slipped the tip of his next finger into you, and immediately felt the ring of muscle tense around him. He looked up, trepidation marring his beautiful, broad features. “____?”

“I’m fine, it’s always just a little weird at first,” you smiled to reassure him, and he nodded, waiting for you to adjust. When you began to push your pelvis toward him, he took that as a signal to continue, gradually easing his lube-slicked digits through the drag of your almost suffocatingly restrictive asshole, teasing gentle circles all the while.

The deeper he got, the louder you became. You wanted so badly to play with yourself as he entered you, but you knew he would want you to save it for when it was him in the place of his fingers. “Oh, yes, that’s starting to feel really good.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon asked, mouth agape and spellbound by the way your face crumpled deep in concentration, as though you were chasing a glimpse of euphoria.

“Mmmm,” was the only response you could muster, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as it was.

After a few minutes of enduring the provocation the wet sounds of your asshole were causing, Namjoon - whose dick had begun to soften while the promise of fucking was still elusive - had once again become rigid under the hastening of his arm’s thrusts. You’d become so malleable so quickly, he was floored. Ass-play seemed like it was quickly going to become a regular in the bedroom for the two of you. “How does it feel now, baby?”

“So fucking good,” you almost crooned, as exhilarated as you were. “I—I don’t think I even need the plug. I’m so ready for you.”

Your words both incited and stymied him. “We don’t need to rush.”

“I’m not rushing, I—I genuinely feel ready, Namjoon-ah, honey. Please, I’m so fucking horny,” you implored needily.

Namjoon groaned. The first thing he wanted to do was pound you into the floor, and the last thing he wanted to do was reject you. But he had to make sure. “Not that I’m insinuating that you’re insulting my dick size, but I’m a lot bigger than the plug. Let’s consider—“

“No,” you were firm, and your eyes were resolute despite your sexual intoxication. “I don’t need it. I need you. Fuck me, Namjoon, please.”

No sane man on earth could spurn that.

Letting out a shuddering breath, he nodded. “Okay, baby, let’s do this. Show me how you want it.”

Clearly having thought-out the flow of this evening to its completion, you immediately flipped onto your stomach, presenting your ass to him in the most indecent, salacious manner. The panties, of course, covered nothing of your asshole, and yet just above it, embroidered into the strip of cloth hugging your hips was a black, satin bow. You really were a fucking gift, and all for his taking.

“It’ll feel really deep like this,” Namjoon warned, but your only response was to wiggle your posterior in his face, goading him. He smirked. “Alright, then.”

After dispensing himself a second helping of lube and allowing it to take to his body temperature, he slathered his length with the velvety, viscous fluid, his eyes closing momentarily at the  first taste of relief his unresolved erection had received this evening beyond your brief torment of a blow-job.

“Don’t get carried away,” you warned, waggling your eyebrows at him over your shoulder.

“How couldn’t I,” he grinned, his free hand leaving streaks of lube over your backside as he palmed it hungrily. “When I have this magnificent view in front of me?”

“I can’t argue with that,” you quipped, throwing him a smirk. He grinned in avid agreement, and you felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze of adoration. Clearing your throat, you reached back to smack his thigh. “Now get the fuck in me, boy.”

Grasping his length level with your sufficiently loosened ass, Namjoon almost paled as he observed the magnitude your tight little hole would have to stretch to accommodate even the head of his cock. Which, by this point, was once again profusely leaking precum. As though sensing his hesitation, you spoke up again, and this time your voice was lower, coaxing. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Namjoon baptized you with the drippings of his lust, before pressing himself, gently but firmly, against your seemingly unyielding asshole. Within a couple of seconds, however, it began to stretch to accommodate him, and as he progressed further – the entirety of his time spent closely scrutinising your reaction – he felt the near unbearable heat and resistance of your ass begin to engulf the tip of him. “F-Fuck,” he muttered, his voice trembling along with his limbs. “How is it?”

You couldn’t reply however, because you had turned to submerge your face deep into a pillow. As soon as he saw that, Namjoon halted his passage immediately. He was about to pull out, but your hand flew back to catch his wrist. A very muffled order came from the pillow. “Just give me a moment.”

“____,” he began, but you dropped his wrist to waggle your finger blindly before his face, shushing him.

After a few long moments, you raised your head, your hair askew and face tomato red from lack of oxygen. “Okay, keep going, but very slowly.”

With one hand resting on the small of your back and the other continuing to guide his member, you let out a whoosh of breath when the head of his cock became entirely entrenched in you. From that point on, you seemed to relax more, and inch by excruciating inch, Namjoon buried himself within you.

Not wanting to emit any noise in case it were to cover up any vocalisations of discomfort, Namjoon had been stewing internally and was coming rapidly to a boil over just how fucking tight it was. It was almost uncomfortably so, like all the blood in his cock could be squeezed back out of it and back to his brain, which had come to a standstill under the assault of sensation he was currently weathering.

Halfway in, you began to move your hips again in circular motions, the movements encouraging your asshole to suck him in further. This was the feeling you had been looking forward to, that apparently insatiable, moreish longing to be filled to the brim, to be stretched to the brink of pain. What burning you had been experiencing up until this point was rapidly extinguishing, and the only thing that took its place was that same wanton hunger you had come to crave during your experimental sessions.

“Yes, Namjoon, this is it, God, you’re starting to feel so fucking good inside me. Keep going.”

Allowing the tension to flow free from his body, Namjoon grunted at your encouragement, gliding himself deeper into your scorching heat. Five inches, then six, and before he knew it, he had bottomed out entirely, the curve of your asscheeks flush with his twitching abdomen. Feeling himself ensconced entirely within you, so compact and so taut, he groaned your name as though pained, doubling over you to rain a shower of ardent kisses down your spine. “Baby, God, you feel so fucking good around me. I won’t last long.”

You whined into your pillow, your skin springing goosebumps at the touch of his butterfly lips. “That doesn’t matter. Namjoon, start moving. I need you to start—oh,” you gasped as he began to drag himself from the clenching of your puckered hole. The sensation of having him, the man you loved more than anything you had ever known, being so tender, so tentative to your needs, and filling you in such an alien, but pleasurable way, it had you fisting the bedcovers again and moaning like a debauched whore.

Namjoon began to build a steady but restrained pace. The slip of your walls around him, the delicious drag of effort it required to extract himself from your depths only to bury himself, right to the hilt, into your Siren’s call of an ass; it was swiftly hurtling him towards an unavoidable, earth-shattering orgasm. He was almost afraid of the sheer violence with which it was brewing within him, and his balls were already beginning to tighten dangerously, drawing themselves up in preparation for the hardest, he believed, he would ever come. “I can’t hold it much longer,” he panted, a joint groan ripping itself from the both of you when he hit particularly deep.

“I want to come with you,” you declared, just as breathless. Holding yourself up under his fastidiously aimed pounding was getting to become something of a challenge.

You could have said literally any combination of words at that moment and Namjoon would have been reeling from how fucking sexy, beautiful¸and perfect you were, as he proclaimed, loud and often, in between his harried thrusting.

Using his wrists to maintain leverage as his cock continued to impale you repeatedly, he grazed his hands over your stomach and swiftly found your dripping cunt, his already slippery hands becoming further lubcricated with your excretions. Knowing that he was already teetering on the precipice of his climax, he was far more unforgiving with your pussy than he was with your ass. 

If they had had minds and personalities of their own, you wouldn’t begrudge your poor, frequently battered pussy for feeling persecuted. As it was, in this moment you were sorely grateful for his rough handling.

Namjoon promptly delved two fingers into your hungry cunt, the orifice suckling loudly and eagerly on the extended digits. His other hand was quick to work on your clit, clasping it resolutely between his fore and middle fingers and, with the aid of a quick wrist, rubbed you between an inch of your life. Before you knew it, you were screaming. Your cheeks streamed with tears; your mind lost its capacity to form all rational thought. And, with it, your vision; a blinding light assaulted your peripheral, as though some higher being deemed you worthy to glimpse nirvana.

“I—I’m coming, Namjoon, f-fuck, don’t stop, I’m so, so, so, close—“

The utter fullness, the wholeness you felt as he occupied what seemed like your entire being, it was incomparable to anything you had ever experienced. You’d never felt more physically or emotionally close to him in that moment, and though you were overcome by the ecstasy of it all, and blinded by it so, you were so aware of him; the strength in his arms, the way they held you as you began to crumble. The deep tones of his voice, though distant, anchoring you to the mortal plane. And what brought you back was the animalistic groan he expelled with one last thrust of his hips as your ass convulsed around him, his cock erupting, ostensibly, with endless streams of cum that coated your walls like eggshell white, until the two of you were a boneless, shivering heap. The room was awash with the sounds of aftershock – delayed grunts and whimpers, and the desperate intake of oxygen, as though you had risked death itself to prove your love to one another.

Following what seemed like an eternity of basking in the glow of your messy aftermath, Namjoon raised his head from your shoulder to brush away the damp, limpid locks of hair from your face. You were still lying prone beneath him, barely noticing the weight of him on your back, your eyes glassy and with whatever remnant of thought was left, distant. You didn’t even register when he slipped his softening cock from you, lying to the side of you and propping himself up on his elbows to see you more clearly.

“Baby,” he called, guiding you back to him. You turned your head enough to look at him. “I love you. So, so much. I really don’t deserve you. Thank you for this.”

You smiled, barely, having hardly enough energy to muster even such a simple expression. “I love you too. And, don’t thank me. I enjoyed it too, as you can tell.”

Namjoon snorted, pulling you against him. You allowed him to mold your exhausted body to his, your skin tacky and almost adherent upon contact. “What next, then?”

“What next?” you scoffed, though it came out more akin to a weak cough. “I don’t know about you, but I’m thoroughly fucked. We can think about that another day.”

“I must have really done a number on you, in that case,” Namjoon was smug. “It’s not like you to be so subdued afterwards. And here I was, about to suggest pegging. I guess you’re not interested.”

Your ears perked up like a dog hearing their owner preparing a bowl of food. “Pegging? Really? You’d let me?”

His resultant chuckle rumbled in his chest, tickling your face. “I knew that might get your attention. I don’t know, I’m thinking about it, especially after seeing how much this kind of thing affected you. Maybe for Christmas.”

“So I get to peg Santa?” you snickered, and Namjoon blanched.

“Only if you haven’t been naughty this year,” he reasoned, and you pouted into his neck, burying yourself into the comfort of his musky, post-sex scent.

“That’s definitely not going to happen, then.”

[skytoddsblog]

Creative Problem Solving Methods Interviews

Sarah: Business Strategy at Adobe, Concert Photographer

1. Sarah generates ideas by looking at a lot of other artists for inspiration. She is mostly inspired when she sees work that’s a little more unconventional (whether that be using graphic design elements or bold colors), or work that evokes a deeper feeling (usually very cinematic photos that look like stills from a movie). Her main obstacle recently has been a lack of content because she hasn’t been able to shoot much concert photography since March of 2020. Another obstacle for her is lack of knowledge or ability - she’s had to self teach the entire way through with my photography, and recently I started to learn After Effects to create 3-D photos. Since this wasn't a skill that I previously had, I ended up watching a lot of YouTube tutorials to pick up basic skills. 

2. Once Sarah finds a few photos she’s inspired by after her shoot, she goes into Photoshop and edits each one individually. She’s not a huge fan of presets, because she thinks that each photo needs very specific and individualized treatment.  On top of the fact that she likes to add graphics to a lot of her images. Then, she’ll scroll through her own work and see what styles/types of photos have performed the best on socials in the past. She’ll use that as a point of reference when editing new photos. She has to be cognizant of engagement because in most cases, those photos are going to a publication that will repost them on Instagram. 

Sam: Social Media & SEO Management for a wellness startup 

1. Sam finds that he’s best able to generate ideas and find inspiration when he’s experiencing very little sensory input or just one or two main streams of sensory input and being present. He generally starts with playing music that fits the atmosphere of the objective he’s trying to reach as well. The main obstacle he faces when coming up with new ideas is analysis paralysis (thinking that an idea is too outlandish, too boring, or not unique). He typically overcomes this obstacle by making an effort to put himself in a headspace where he feels safe and confident internally. 

2. With most of his problem solving, Sam usually likes to start with a blank sheet of printer paper to organize information, thoughts, feelings, and ideas. He typically folds that piece of paper into 4 separate sections where he creates sections for objectives, processes, timelines, and miscellaneous. This folding method isn’t always the case for him though. Sometimes he’ll fold in half as well. It just depends on the problem presented. Starting off with a blank white sheet allows for almost any form of organization which is why it appeals to him.

 Jael: Founder of GT Goods, Content Creator

1. Jael generates ideas through asking himself questions such as how, when and where:

- How: Research adjacent/successful/new sources of relevant inspiration, who's killing it in this sector? Who's slept on? Who's failing? See what you like, what you don't like, what works, what doesn't. Think, “what is nobody doing?”

- When: When intentionally exposing himself to things he dreams about or aspires to achieve, during sunset cruises past nice houses by the beach, watching videos of cars he wants to drive, looking through product catalogues of goods he wants to provide. 

- Where: At home in his room browsing through online content, out in the world driving through neighborhoods he wants to live in, visiting stores that offer goods I'd like to design/produce, or local meetups/events around cars he wants to own.

Jael’s main obstacle is narrowing down on one design and limiting his involvement/invested-ness in his current work. He often overcomes this by reminding himself of the value of MVP (minimum viable product) concepts and fail-fast techniques to test for product success and market demand, and remembering that not everyone is going to notice the details he notices. 

2. Jael attempts to solve problems by using this method:

- Identify(ing) the problem at hand, isolating symptoms and possible scenarios.

- Research(ing) the problem and root cause, breaking it down into smaller parts, and understanding how and why it works. 

- Plan(ning) possible solutions, parts/information required to execute, mapping out goals, logistics, limitations, prepare plan A, B, & C. 

- Execut(ing) the plan. 

- Test(ing) the solution, gathering information acquired during execution, and evaluating success. 

- Monitor(ing) the solution for long term feasibility, reliability, sustainability. 

Main Takeaways:

Although I’ve never tried the folding method, my ideology probably resonates most with Sam’s problem solving techniques. Sam’s folding method allows him to break down the problem he’s attempting to solve in manageable chunks which is something I prioritize too, although I usually make a digital timeline which differs from his pen to paper method. I admired how one of Sarah’s techniques involved analyzing her old work to see “what didn’t work and what did” and apply those positive outcomes to her current work; this is something I don’t do nearly as often as I should. Similarly to Sarah, I almost always use Pinterest to gain inspiration for my design work or just to get my creativity flowing. Jael’s problem solving method reminded me of the design thinking process that I use when problem solving, but misses one of the most important steps I follow, which is empathizing. 

When reviewing each of their interviews, I thought their processes were all similar in the fact that they all focus on individual work. As someone that collaborates often with other designers and engineers, I sometimes forget the value of individual brainstorming and really checking in with myself before presenting ideas to others, which is something I can take away from these interviews. Jael’s process (identify, research, plan, test, execute, monitor) seemed to be more deliberate and calculated than Sarah’s process, as she more so relies on the various feelings evoked by different pieces of work as well as what people liked or disliked about her past work. On the other hand, Sam seems to utilize the environment around him in addition to his day-to-day feelings to generate ideas, then goes into organization-mode using his folding method to problem solve.