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lilacxoz · 5 months

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Princess - Gojo Satoru X Reader

F!reader

Warnings!: non protected sex, choking, darcryphilia, love bombing, Princess X Royal Guard trope.

I am not responsible for people under 18 who read this. minors or ageless bloggers please dni!

“Please Prue, I cannot stomach anything for the work I must complete before sunrise,” you bit your bottom lip, looking over the written up budget for the kingdoms church. You hadn’t realized just how rich they’d become from your fathers rein. You weren’t much of a religious folk, so you were afraid to cut their income by half.

“Your highness, you are not to eat then I must call your personal guard, for he will make you,” he warned, knowing what kind of bond you and your guard had. He’d been your guard for ten years now, since your sixteenth birthday. He was a foolish boy who wasn’t good at his job in leaving your alone and protecting you from afar. But you’d grown a connection to him, sharing secrets and thoughts in your tower many times. You’d shared things that not even your reflection had heard.

“Call Satoru if you dare, I shall simply give him the same response as you,” you told her, offering a fake smile. Your maid, Prue, was a nice women yet you couldn’t appreciate her kindness due to the stress. She sighed, placing the tray on your desk before leaving your chambers.

As You embraced the silence, your wooden walls homing the orange flicker of your candles. Your desk was covered in papers and folders, painted by the light and some even your tears. You were almost done though, almost free to sink deep into your mattress and let the night whisper a story.

After around three revolutions of the clocks long hand, you heard soft footsteps grow closer outside the door. Your ears perked up, recognizing who held such confidence strides. The wood creaked outside your door as he unlocked the wooden door. He stepped inside, not earning a glance from you. He clicked his tongue through a grin, unstrapping his sword from his waist.

“Princess,” he called to you, setting his sword against your desk as he pulled over a stool next to you. You glanced over at him, being met with his beautiful eyes of the sea. That’s what drew you to keeping him as your guard, his eyes reminded you of salty air and the sound of waves crashing against large rock formations.

“Princess,” he called to you again, this time a little more demanding, “tell me why you choose to be defiant.” You didn’t spare a glance this time, focused on writing down a couple numbers down on the budget for the local taverns. You chose to be a little generous since you yourself liked to relax in one of the local taverns at night before curfew.

You were pulled by Satoru’s soft hand holding your chin between his fingers, making you look up at him. He always had a way of making you flutter like the butterflies you loved to watch with him in the spring. He knew the kind of effect he had on you, and you knew he knew as well. It was almost unspoken, woven between the threads of the stares you share that your relationship had grown far from princess and guard. It was just a matter of time before someone drew further over the line.

“You must eat the soup Chef Dee has prepared for you. It would be a waste and an insult to his craft if you were to leave his food untouched.” He handed you the bowl of soup in a cherry oak bowl. “Eat.”

You stared from him to the bowl, grabbing the silver spoon off the tray and and complying with his request. Prue was right, you cannot defy him. He was persuasive with his words and actions, it was addictive to see just how far you could push him.

“Thank you Princess. After you eat, please slip into your night gown before you grown marks from your corset,” he asked if you, poking your side. You wore your day dress: a soft pink ankle dress with a white lace corset that wasn’t as harsh as your evening dress. It was comfortable, made of silk with lace trim and an off-the-shoulder touch. Your hair was let down, your mothers hair pins holding back your face framing pieces to help you see the papers better. You could admit, it was a little embarrassing for him to see you this way. But then again, he’d seen you down to your undergarments so you had nothing to worry when it came to presentation.

“Why you care so much about my health is up for debate in my head, it cannot just be because of your guardian duties or the fact we are close,” you pointed out. He shined you he boyish smile, his white hair covering some of his eyes. He was truly an amazement at how gorgeous yet masculine Satoru was. His sharp jaw and plush lips were enough to leave a girl melted at the knees. He was every girls fantasy, yet every man’s threat. Satoru was the chief of royal guards, quickly moving up the ranks from when he was placed as your personal guard. He had better opportunities presented to him to change roles, yet he stuck with you. Now he was chief, yet always made time to be with you most of the day.

“Can a guard not care for his princess without reason? The way you doubt me hurts, princess,” he faked pain in his chest, earning a few giggles from you. You laugh was contagious yet a beautiful hymn to him.

His face suddenly dropped, as if lost in his own mind. You nudged him with your foot on his ankle, asking him why he was distancing himself. “My Princess,” he looked down at you with something strange, “shall your coronation come by spring, I cannot promise I will stay your guard. I-“

You watched him break, his jaw hard as he stared at you distantly. You knew the rules, you knew you had to switch to your fathers guard due to tradition. But you hated tradition, it was all a bunch of horse play. You placed your hand on his knee, the other following as you set your bowl of soup down. The candlelight danced across his face, making him appear even more beautiful than before.

“Shall the day come Satoru, I will fight my ancestors and the kingdoms expectations of queen if it is what I must do to keep you. You aren’t leaving my side, I will stand between the lines of the people and royalty just to be with you,” your breath was gone, telling a breathless, “for I love you.”

His hands slid to your shoulders, his eyes clearing of his brain clouds. He knew what he wanted now, and he didn’t care if it was forbidden. He didn’t care if he had to bite the apple as Eve did, as long as he had you by his side.

His lips drew closer, your breaths mixing together in a concoction that left your knees weak. You took the apple, connecting your lips to his. He tasted of the forbidden apple, whimpering out from the sweet taste. You hadn’t realized how much you needed him until his hands trailed down to your waist. You took the initiative, crawling into his lap and letting him lead the kiss.

He was your Romeo, your Shakespeare tragedy that led you astray. You didn’t care of the consequences that would fall over you both for doing this, you were going to be queen and you’d fight for him. He knew that, falling down the same path as you. He’d quit his title as a royal guard just to hold you to sleep every night. Just to taste your lips, just to touch you…just to feel you. He was lovesick, and so where you.

He pulled away from the kiss, watching you breath heavily. He slid his finger tips against your cheek, watching the redness form from your embarrassment and lust. “I cannot kiss you any further when you deserve a bed,” Satoru whispered, leaving the only sound to occupy the room being your breaths and the wind blowing against the windows.

You smirked down at him, combing your fingers thorough his soft snowy hair. It was late winter, his hair reflecting the thick snow coating the once green ground. “As your Queen,” you stated in an authoritative tone, “I command you show me what you think about doing to me on this desk.”

Your body was on fire, his lips all over your neck as you sat on your desk, legs cradling his torso. You could feel him through his trousers, wanting so bad to remove the articles of clothing that were blocking your connection. You needed him so bad, so bad it physically hurt. The fire between your legs grew stronger than the candle flame, and he could feel it.

He reached a hand down between your legs, slipping it down into your undergarments. He could feel how wet you were from a simple touch, only fueling his body more. His hips were magnetic to yours, so much so that he couldn’t control himself from grinding up against the hand he was slowly slipping inside you. His other hand was wrapped around your neck, your eyes rolling back through each small squeeze of his fingertips. You had to be quiet, for anyone could walk up your tower and ask for your assistance. But in some strange way, that made you just a little less quiet. It was almost thrilling, heightening your endless pleasure.

“Tell me Princess, does it feel good to be in such a vulnerable state at the hands of your royal guard?” He asked in a sinister manner, eliciting a small whimper and a nod. He smirked at the response, looking down at you. “Tell me how good.”

He curled his fingers, making your body jerk forward as your eyes squeezed shut. You’d had many late night with guys from the tavern looking for something quick and fulfilling. Even princes had come and made you feel like you were floating. But nobody compared to the way he knew how to play you perfectly, like a bard with his lyre. It was mesmerizing, freeing. Your body melting deep into the earth and coming out in heaven.

You whispered his name in a chant, like the nuns at the cathedral. You were close to that heaven, sinking deeper and deeper until you were finally at the gates. Your body exploded in pleasure, eyes tearing up as Satoru watched you unravel in his hand. Your high lasted longer than any other you’d experienced, opening your watery eyes to be met with his flushed face and a smirk. He was full of lust, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.

You helped him get you out of your undergarments, as well as freeing him of his work belt and unbuttoning his work pants. He cock was large and thick, oozing with precum. You both watched eachothers movemnts, looking for any discomfort; but there was none to be found. You both wanted this, needed this. You both spent long nights, from sunset to sunrise, dreaming and pretending this moment right now was real. Now it was, and you weren’t wasting any time in indulging in it.

You let out a gasp as he slid himself inside you, the skirt of your dress bunched at your hips. The desk below you moaned from the weight of his small thrust, but you both couldn’t fathom anything around you. All you both could focus on was your connection. “Satoru…” you whispered, his hands planted down on the desk by your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his in a kiss of need. He complied, slowly rocking his hips against yours. You could feel him, all of him, and it was nothing compared to anything you’ve ever experienced before.

His thrusts grew a bit faster as his lips devoured yours, as if a kiss of death. Your body had succumbed to his, moving your body to try and keep up with his thrusts. The desk below was creaking with each fast movement, loud enough for anyone in the stairway to hear. But you didn’t care anymore, especially with the loud moan of his name you let slip. He loved the noice, pulling away from your lips to only attack your neck with bites that caused more.

You moaned, but you were missing something. He pulled away, watching you grab on of his hands and slip his thumb over a specific part of your body. He felt the bundle of nerves, watching you face contort into one of pure blissful pleasure. He loved the reaction, rubbing the small nub faster and pressing down on it. His thrusts grew faster, feeling you tighten around him. He felt it, that feeling of heaven. He ran to it with his pace, your head bobbling with each thrust. You let go of his neck, laying down over the papers as you let him take control.

You were just as close to your orgasm as he was, crying out his name as tears fell down the side of your face. His head leaned back as he gave a few more brutal thrusts before letting himself go inside you. You came just as he did, your bodies connected along with your souls. This was more than just sex, and that was now known between the two of you. This was a soul connection, one that ran deeper than anything you’ve ever felt with anyone.

“I love you, princess,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your neck. He wanted another round, and you were ready to comply to his unspoken request.

#jjk x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo saturo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut

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lotusmi · 1 year

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The faith challenge <3

This is a small manifesting/void challenge I made for myself that helped me to manifest my dream life.

Aimed for people that overconsume or overcomplicate getting their desires.

Note: you know enough! you have overconsumed enough information. stop now, its time to finally get what you want!

If you overcomplicate things, you probably listen to subs for hours, affirm 10,000x every hour, etc. You view them as things you must do to get your desires. But remember, you are not doing this to get results in 3d, you are doing this to fulfil yourself inwardly. Its like you have your hair down and your looking in the mirror. You cannot change the hairstyle in the mirror, right? leave the mirror and change your hairstyle. (fulfill your desire inwards), and the mirror(3d) must reflect that.

The actual challenge:

Read/listen to edward art's though false lecture. ONCE. ONLY. ONCE!! aim to truly understand what he is saying. this lecture is all you need. After that, delete your tumblr. unsubscribe to manifestation ppl on youtube. no more information for u.

No affirmations, no subliminals, no scripting, no visualizing. (unless you're doing it just because it helps make you feel fulfilled. you dont have to do them!!! preferably stop all methods.)

you will write your own rules on a slip of paper. ex. 'my manifestions must come within 3 days because i said so and i make the rules', 'everything must always work in my favour'. keep it simple. it doesn't matter what anyone else said, make the rules however u want!

you will stick to those rules. you will just know that everything in your reality has to abide by your rules. do nothing else.

Wavering is fine. if you waver, no jumping back to tumblr to overconsume information. simply ask your inner self for confirmation. your inner self will always say 'yes u have ur desires!'

idc about your 3d. you are under no obligation to accept those circumstances as true, your imagination is the only true reality anyway. don't complain abt how bad ur circumstances are, because one well known blogger here grew up in in extremely abusive situation, was tossed from foster care to foster care, was searching for shelter at night because the abuse was too much. she wavered just like u. And yet, she did it! she changed her entire life. drastically. and you can too.

TLDR:

listen to edward art's though false lecture ONCE.

delete tumblr and all manifestation related stuff. do not do methods.

write your own rules

stick to them

fulfill urself inwardly only.

!!!success story + amazing challenge! oh, anon! You are amazing! 💐💌🌷

This ask is beautiful, this is so well done and the whole post is so well written, organized, and helpful! Omg, you are a real angel! I am so happy that you did it, and even more happy to receive an ask from someone kind like you, I appreciate you so much, I know this will help a lot of people. Congrats for your own journey and success! Please know that you are an amazing soul, and I wish you all the best and so much love, you deserve to live all the happiness! ...🌷💗

The Faith Challenge! <3

꒱This challenge is perfect for you that are overconsuming or overcomplicating the law and want to leave this cycle, manifesting your dream life! Everyone, let's appreciate this anon work! 𓆩♡𓆪

💐💐 those flowers are for you, my dear Faith anon!

#neville goddard #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa advice #loa blog #manifesting #success story #living in the end #loatumblr #Lotuses success #states #challenge #edwardartsupplyhands #edward art #edwart art supply hands

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dreamlifebunny · 8 months

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it doesn't matter where you came from, what matters is that you're here now.

one thing that really bugs me about spiritual communities in general (reality shifting, law of assumption, non dualism, etc.) is that a lot of people shame others for not understanding things or for believing in things that are limiting when they first start out. i mean, i understand the frustration - anons can ask a thousand questions that could be answered if they read pinned posts, and we all just want everyone to abandon their limiting beliefs and just get it.

but the fact is that we were born in a society that teaches us that we are limited and that some things are impossible, from the time that we are small until we find these teachings, and we are slowly undoing them through exploration and self-inquiry. it's an overwhelming and tricky journey, filled with so many beautiful highs and a lot of devastating lows, and i feel like everyone deserves a whole lot of compassion when searching for answers. i know i needed love and compassion when i first started, because my ego was scared and sad and was searching for answers in order to feel loved and secure. being told i was dumb and having someone be frustrated with me for my questions was the last thing i needed to become self-actualized. i know that everyone is different, but this is just my experience, so i wanted to share it.

my beliefs are constantly evolving into what brings me more peace and understanding. in the beginning, i wouldn't have been able to believe that my assumptions create my reality (law of assumption) if i hadn't been introduced to the idea of reality shifting. i wouldn't have understood the fact that this life is just beautiful dream and that my true Self is the dreamer (non dualism) if i hadn't first been able to separate my "imagination" from my "real life" (3D and 4D from law of assumption). these were all stepping stones in my understanding of the greater ideas that i needed to get to, and i feel no shame in formerly having beliefs or practices that i don't identify with anymore. i don't believe that you should have shame, either, regardless of where you are at in your journey of self-discovery and creative power.

i get so sad when i see bloggers shaming others for not understanding things when all of this is so fucking difficult to grasp when one is first starting out. i mean, we come from societies that have beliefs as foolish and damaging as skin colour making you inferior, or that gender is binary and you can't express yourself the way you feel inside. with beliefs such as these, of course the beliefs of anything being possible and the fictional being real are going to sound impossible and profoundly false. in my personal opinion, the tough love approach has never helped me - compassion and patience has. i feel like so many people believe and understand that we are all one and have a great understanding of the truth of things, and yet go around and are rude to those seeking answers. it just feels so pathetic to me to see bullying of those seeking answers when they're literally just an extension of the answerer. anons are showing up with silly questions because bloggers expect them to have silly questions. and i realize that even this is hypocritical of me to say because i could just choose to see a spiritual community full of love and compassion instead of what i'm seeing, but i still wanted to share this while i unravel my own hypocrisy.

i feel like if you are wanting to be a teacher of others, you have to take on the responsibility that being a teacher holds, which includes patience, patience, and more patience. that's just my own perspective at least, and everyone is welcome to have their own, but my favourite teachers have been ones that guide me to my own answers with patience and compassion. i am also profoundly sensitive and feel wilty when others are cruel to me, so maybe i'm just trying to speak out to those who feel similarly, because this is a post i wish i could have read when i first started my journey. ultimately, everyone can do, be, and say whatever they like - it's their own blog after all - but i just want to be a voice of compassion to anyone who is in the beginning stages of learning about the law of assumption, non dualism, or reality shifting. it all comes down to the same profound teachings that we are, at our core, limitless.

all of this is to say that i am proud of you. you are doing a good, great, amazing job. you are worthy of love and goodness in your life no matter what others may make you feel. you are worthy of the absolute best and nothing less. it is a hard journey at times, but it is a worthwhile journey, and you are brave and creative and beautiful for taking the steps to expand and give yourself the best life. you deserve compassion and love and patience, and i am rooting for you every step of the way. i hope you are rooting for yourself, too.

ultimately, it doesn't matter where you got your beliefs. what matters is: does it feel right to you? does it make you feel connected to your true, unlimited Self? does it open up your world and your heart to the endless possibilities available to you? does it give you peace? if so, it doesn't matter what practice or teaching you believe in. you are your own greatest teacher.

it doesn't matter where you came from, what beliefs you once held, or who you've been in the past. what matters is that you are here, learning and growing, learning how to give yourself the most beautiful experiences that your creative power has to offer. be kind to yourself and remember that we're all just trying to expand and love and open ourselves up.

#not sure how to tag this one considering its just a loving rant. but yeah #law of assumption #non dualism #sensitive bb bunny strikes again #bunny's originals #even now i'm worried that someone is gonna be mean to me about this post LOL gjhsghjgf #sensitivity is a blessing and a curse #neville goddard #edward art

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threetrenchcoatsinatrenchcoat · 11 months

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Next d20 season ideas that live up to unguessable and yet here i am:

all the trickster gods are in a web of crime in 1940s los angeles

cold war submarine thriller but everyone's dogs

eurovision but only between australias from different realities

inside out but inside a serial killer

dating show in space

crew of sentient trash now traffics drugs across borders

long distance superhero polycule

the robot army with imperfect face detection vs an elite team of beauty bloggers

the fast and the furious and the fiscal quarter analysis

space jam but mini golf

stetsonpunk

haunted home alone: when a strike team shows up, the residents suddenly have to work with the ghosts

avatar meets avatar

time travelers are stuck between a cyberpunk dystopia and the bbq timeline

hackers slash fashion designers rob the met gala

the traveling circus are the only outsiders let into The City

erika dms

#looked up stetsonpunk and i guess i just made it up so tm tm tm #dropout hire me #d20 #d20 theories

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sgiandubh · 7 months

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Cait’s latest IG follow (latelier3030ibiza)… There are barely any followers and it seems interesting considering Cait apparently is involved in something that’s coming out soon (re: “more details to follow” from that one photographer who posted a portrait of her). Also “Ibiza” seemed funny lol

Maybe this is that new project and FMN actually isn’t coming back? What do you think? I wonder why Cait would be the 26th follower for a brand that’s not even released yet.

Dear Follow Anon,

Thank you for the info: it's latelier303ibiza, if you are looking for it and want to have a chance of finding something.

Just look at her, Our Lady of the Rings. Actively following IG accounts based in New York, as we speak:

The wonderful PEN Club America (the folks at PEN Greece are personal friends of this blogger). For the Mordor ignoramuses, this is world's most prestigious writers' network. Funnily enough, I will soon co-host a book launch with the PEN Greece people (I wrote the Foreword, because I am damn stupid and a nutcase). It is a wonderful interbellum Romanian novel, probably the most beautiful ever written in my native language. And is was translated to Greek by one of our best family friends. /self-promo moment

An art studio in the Meatpacking district. Her taste, not necessarily mine, but duly noted.

And then the Ibiza thing, which looks like... well.. a fashion something. Very clearly a new brand. Looks youthful, funny and uhm... very Eighties?

On verra, Anon. We shall see. As for FMN, I already gave you my sentiment: anything goes.

Just don't hold your breath yet, ok? :)

#Anon

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safedistancefrombeingsmart · 3 months

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John writes a 2nd letter. After he beats up Sherlock in the morgue, he visits the detective one last time to say goodbye. He leaves his walking stick-and the letter. In a last second decision he takes back the letter, rips it to pieces and bins it. Nurse Cornish, nosy as she is, fishes the pieces out of the bin and puts the letter back together. Luckily, Sherlock never sees this letter.

This is chapter 2 of Broken.

I told you to stay away from me. But did you listen? No, you never listen, Sherlock. You NEVER listen. And look what happened.

I never meant to break your skin and bones. I was not myself, haven't been for a while. You and your big brain should have seen that. You should have stopped me from beating you to a pulp in the morgue. If you had not been high as a fucking kite, you would have stopped me and I wouldn't be haunted by your blood on my hands and the sound of your bones breaking. I could not stop myself. You could, but you didn't.

I am leaving. In a way I think I already left ages ago. After you killed yourself left me. We left each other. It was never the same after you came back. I tried, I really did. I thought we could work it out. You and me and Mary. What a fool I have been. I was no longer your blogger, your conductor of light. I am not even sure if I was your friend anymore.

I don't know yet where I will be going. I just know that Rosie and I have to get away. From you. She is my priority now (she always should have been, for fucks sake) and I can't look after you both. Not when I can barely look after myself. I just can't, Sherlock. But no matter how far away I will be going, I know it won't be far enough. I will still be dreaming about you and The Fall and about finding you with a bullet hole in your chest and about you collapsing in 221b and about me punching your face and kicking your ribs. I will still be waking up screaming and it will always be because of you.

Take this walking stick as my parting gift, as a reminder of the good times we had together. I can't take it with me because it reminds me not only of the good, but also the bad times. The hurt, the grief, the loneliness, the guilt, the regrets. I don’t know what else to tell you. I need to get away from… everything. For a while or – I don’t know, maybe longer.

Goodbye, Sherlock.

John

(AO3 link)

Credit to the beautiful post divider goes to @musingsofmyown (link)

#john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #bbc sherlock #fanfic #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fandom #my fics #angst

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thisdreamplace · 10 months

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i keep having these glimpses, of purity, of truth and also cloudedness easily provided by the ego.

i know its a moment of transformation, of rebirth. for a moment all is clear, and i get it. peace flows to me in abundance, love is a thing i am and not a thing i seek. all is well and there's nothing to ask for anymore, nothing to want.

but other times, its a downward spiral and crash landing into every painful story i ever called mine. any hurtful belief i easily accepted back then, when i simply didnt know what i know now. and sometimes its so heavy, i can hardly make the seperation between a story and my true self.

i've learned so much on this journey, experienced such beautiful things. but the truth is, things havent been easy for me lately and i want to be transparent about that. more than anything, i'd like to allow safety and knowledge of the process. knowing these things, doesn't make it an overnight process. and that's okay. i'm saying this for myself, but for everyone else too who feels like they're doing something wrong because they read the posts and they get it, and yet that hasn't stopped the fears or doubts or ego from taking over time to time. let's never pretend the process doesn't exist, because then we'd be denying this life we chose to come here and live and explore, and that just makes everything more painful than ever necessary. it's deattachment from what the ego says things are supposed to be, and just allowing what truly is, beyond all that.

the post i wrote about indifference, i understand it more than ever. that being said, it doesn't mean i am always successful. but even so, i know that's where i want to go back to each time. it makes so much sense, there's nothing to fight, and even more, there's nothing to liberate myself from. i've been sitting with myself, sometimes with binural beats on (i just really like them, no need for them tho) and just sit with everything. not in a fight, not to say "i dont believe in you, go away"... but to simply say "welcome in, your presence literally changes nothing." and sit with that uncomfortable feeling if it arises.

i'm leaving this blog indefinitely, once again. i love reading all of your lovely words, and finding small pockets of inspirations from some of you other lovely bloggers out there. but it's also time for me to turn away again, to find peace in my own life, and come closer to the god within and the love that is infinitely mine, if only i'll allow myself to acknowledge it.

#im actually really emotionally exhausted #and i know that its literally up to me to liberate myself #and i know im being given that opportunity through the pains #but its been a difficult couple of months yall lol'

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dimalink · 14 days

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Synthesizers – about little squirrel and good little animals

So, I have in my pack of music instruments – midi keyboard for 49 keys. Blue color. Cool thing. It is AxelVox Key49j. And I doing music exercises with this music instrument. I am doing exercises with no connected instrument. So, in spring, I can say, it was started a new step for me. One more try. New attempt.

I know seven chords. One gamma. And I play three compositions from a textbook with exercises. And I am doing exercises with book “In music with joy”. So, it is also a drawn a little sun.

The best thing I can do it is little song – “squirrel”. And, also, it is “Ladushki” (hands something) and “Ice Mountain”. So, these three things I play. I train left and right hand separately. So, together I do no played it yet. So, I can say, first step is made towards to songs about little songs about good and kind animals!

That’s for sure! Little songs about good and kind animals. My theme. So, it will be some little animals there. So, really, something like it can be, like some little songs like composition little song – “Squirrel”, as it can be! But, for now, only melodies, it is, I think, it will be melodies now. A skill to speak and sing – it is standalone skill. It is a little thing about a step. A first step, that was made.

Imagine for yourself, for example a duckling. Which can run around the green grass. About what music he can run? And later to jump into the river or lake. And paws he moves, he moves with paws, so funny into the water. And runs all over the water, or, even, swim. So, this is example. So, in form of melodies. Not a big length. Not hard.

And more, yellow chickens are running the grass. They have so big fun there. In a sunny day. Goose is running around a small lake. He spread his wings. He has a red beacon. Such a reddish. Little mouses are sitting somewhere in the fields, they are in their little house. Mole is digging a holes and doing plants of the trees. So, lots of music themes!

So it will be, as idea, funny melodies. About good and kind little animals. My friends. Which I can see soon. When I will go to a country house. In a grass, there are grasshoppers, they are good musicians. And also, a frogs are excellent singers. They are doing quak quak sounds very good. Maybe, I can meet there someone else. And all of these under the little sun. In a green grass. It is beautiful!

Such artistic idea and theme. And even more – synthesizer – it is about lots of sounds onboard. Very different electronic music. From more straight and raw up to more delicious and elegance. From hard drive to melody beauty. Retro wave, synthesizers music, style of 80s rhythms and melodies. With different plugins. Genres of electronic music – there are lots of them. So, synthesizers – it is unlimited way to do music! With very different sounds and ideas! Melodies and rhymes!

Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/

#music #music learning #synth #synthesizers #simple melodies #doing music #axelvox key49j #good and kind animals #little animals #funny songs #electronic music #classic music #music classes #squirell #music textbook #songs about animals #ice mountain #hands #ladushki

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livealittleoc-cb · 6 months

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Small Update!

✨: I’m awake so earlyyyy! *whines* It’s for an important event, my cousin is having a bachelor’s party and as the best man I had to help arrange it and it’s now the day! So have to smile through the pain. Good news though, I’m going to England for Thanksgiving week, my parents are meeting me there and I’ll be with Devon hanging out as well.~ I’m just excited for food we don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving, we celebrate Chuseok but since that past and I didn’t get the chance to visit my parents we’re doing stuff now. Christmas is still a ‘to be announced’ because I don’t know what we’re doing. Hope everyone has lots of fun things planned for their holidays!~

🐉: It is so damn early-. What the fuck. *groans* Guess who’s going also to this bachelor party? Me.~ I may or may not be entertainment, I haven’t been told yet-. But, Sky and me are on a little breakfast date before I have to go and be sexy. 🥰 *snorts and laughs* I also get to pick up my check before I don’t have to work for the rest of the holidays, today is just a great day.~ Thanksgiving isn’t really going to be anything done Sky and me are going to hangout with Joo before he leaves us 🙄 and then for Christmas we’re going to Australia to meet up with mum and then going to China for Chinese New Years in February. I can’t wait.~

☁️: G-Good whatever time i-it is-. I a-am currently extremely t-tired but I get a cute breakfast date with my beautiful b-boyfriend.~ 🥰 I’m not going to the party I-I’m g-going to meet u-up with my D-Dads for the r-rest of the week and catch up with them and than Grey and I have some hangouts with J-Joo planned until C-Christmas! January I s-should be g-going t-to Netherlands with the D-Dads so that should be fun. D-Do you have a-any plans f-for the holidays?!

🩵🩵: @monsterhigh-cb [🐟🤍💍 && ⚡💙 && 👻💜 && 🐺💕 && 🎤💖 && 👑💛] @evicted-oc [☕️🤎 && 🐼🖤 && 🔦💛 && 🧊🩵 && 💄🖤] @theinvitation-bot [🐭🩶💒] @welcome-to-maniac [🐇🖤 💍 && 🌻❤️ && 🌕❤️‍🔥 && 🐿️❣️] @fantasyaespa [🐈 💚💍 && ☀️🩵] @k-venturetime [🍓❣️] @multi-joong [🌧️🧡💍 && 🎨💚] @kardpackcb [🌙💝 && 🐺❤️‍🔥]

possible new residents: @faywithlove @badbf-cb @clubwnderland @domxbot @welcometosector1 @lunaaofthemoon @reve-rv @multi-esme @the-hellhounds @san-cb @jinju-oc @enhanced-cb @camboys-com @lavienrosecabaretxo @oppositesattraxt @domrachaa @hwangsiblings-oc @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @moonlightchn @blogger-yura @crimson-l @thesugaredalchemists @folklore-cb @doom-bc @hearthstone-apothecary @vandalsxcb @redlight-cb @inferno-cb @damnationinc @moongoddesselene @darkloversxcb @urluvlyfe @9ateez-multiau-bot @minsour-r @jeonsoyeonn @secretscb [DM + / -]

#🔭small update!#✨jooheon.txt #🐉greyson.txt #☁️skyler.txt

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tonaken · 2 years

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Lost_ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

FIA'S NOTE_ this piece is my contribution to @misss-chrisss’s getaway collab (thank you for having me <3) Yes I’m soo fucking late, and i’m sorryyyy but i just got back from being shadowbanned and being drop kicked in the face by college 😐 But yeah, I hope y'all enjoy this passionate, heated session with big Ushi baby on a summer night in Cancun (it must be niiiceee😭)

WARNINGS_ MDNI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI x fem!reader, reader is black coded, but anyone can read, AU where reader is a food blogger and Ushijima is a restaurant owner and a fanboy, alcohol consumption (nobody gets drunk tho), smut, implied protected sex (see? be like them), nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), implied multiple rounds, Ushi is nor a dom nor a sub, just a man who wants to fuck you and has a bit of an oral fixation

W_C_3.4 k words

A beach house on the seashore, sticky, sandy skin, a swaying palm tree. A perfectly browned crème brulée. A delicately seasoned lobster. A slew of intricate cocktails. Your week in Cancun was proving to be nothing short of your expectations. Fun, a bit reckless, definitely free.

Everything was being documented on your Instagram page. Stories upon stories of your whereabouts, outfits, friends, and, obviously, food. After all, that’s what the majority of your followers were there for. Also the spectacular beach shots and the exclusive parties were appreciated; it all played into the rich life fantasy that was always beneficial to portray.

You’re known, you’re popular. Definitely not a Hollywood actress or a sold-out-concert superstar, but notable enough in your niche, in the realm of food blogging. Your food pictures have definitely clogged Pinterest at some point in time and a few restaurants have surely benefited from your reviews, your blog posts aesthetic, yes, yet concise and accurate.

So it’s not exactly a surprise when food magazines ask of you, a stimulating interview coming out of your collaboration. Or when a publishing company wants to have you advise future readers on the best eating spots in some European capital. Or also when a restaurant invites you personally to taste their cuisine, much like now.

The pretty invite stays projected on the screen as your eyes scan the pixelated words. It’s three am, but the muted ping of your phone was a temptation too big to resist. It’s an email from your manager forwarding you the message from the establishment, a popular one, it seems. You briefly imagine her excited tone behind the numerous exclamation points that accompany the few words of introduction.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Cancun is your vacation destination. Where to relax, unwind and rejuvenate. And yet, here you are, chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. But then your eyes set on the final line of the invite; your brow arches in surprise. Dinner with the restaurant owner?

It’s not your preferred way to go about things, really. You’d much rather get to know the restaurant in its most organic form, how it usually is. You’re aware of the preferential, VIP treatment you get when you’re recognized, using the surrounding tables’ situation as a true gauge of customer service. But when, out of curiosity, you search your host, you don’t really care anymore.

It’s a bit embarrassing to fall for looks when it comes to rational decisions like these, but the striking beauty of the man before you is undeniable. Maybe it's the aloof aura that surrounds him, heavily set in the straight line of his lips. Or the wide shoulders that seem to struggle with the space inside his tailored shirts and blazers.

But when he’s there, right in front of you, looking down at you with a small, curt smile, arm outstretched in invitation, you get it. It’s everything, to be honest. He moves with confidence, not of the arrogant genre, but more of the matter-of-fact type: things need to be done this way, so he does them like that, no doubt in his mind.

He’s a strict man, you can tell. He walks with a stiff stride, a bit too statuesque to be spontaneous. He pulls out your chair with a smooth movement though, silently helping you, to then sit down in his own chair. And when he looks up at you, finally, you might add, citrine eyes shine under the lamp that hovers over your table. He looks oddly comforting, much more innocuous than his straight expression might suggest.

He’s much more awkward than what you pictured him to be, odd silences sometimes slipping into the conversation and settling for a few beats before a shy word of his comments on the food you’re about to eat. That’s when he glows, you realize.

He’s in his element, all discomfort gone from his expressionless face. He describes to you each and every ingredient, almost weaving intricate and picturesque explanations. Just almost, though. He falls short when he catches himself getting too carried away in the shiny glaze of the caramelized side greens. He’s quick to gain the sliver of composure lost, falling back into his routinely simplicity and straightforwardness.

He, to your surprise, looks at you with almost childlike curiosity as he raises his eyes once again, and the prettiest smile is set on your glossy lips. He can’t tell, but it’s most definitely the first genuine one of the night. It’s laced with an odd mix of amusement and endearment with a faint dash of hazy, wine-induced attraction. He doesn’t see all of that, the fact that you are actually before him has just sunk in; his mind is elsewhere.

Ushijima Wakatoshi has known you for some time. He’s never been one to care about food bloggers and critics, tending to have a very negative opinion of them, their arrogance and unthankfulness often slapping him across the face. So when he reads your interview in one of the top food magazines, he’s pleasantly surprised by your demeanor. Humble, down to earth, mature, likable. It’s a breath of fresh air, really.

And that’s where it starts. Binge reading your blog posts, that is. Poised but straight to the point. Never unnecessarily rude or harsh. Analytical but not complex. It’s almost enlightening, he gleans.

He subscribes to your newsletter, ready for each and every update, virtually following you across the globe as you taste and record your travels. He finds it really interesting how you seem to bleed beautifully into your writing; it’s almost like reading a diary at times. And Tendo finds it downright hilarious to repeatedly catch his workaholic boss swiping on his phone, tall man tucked in a secluded corner. And every time he passes by him and throws a glance, he’s, obviously at this point, on your website, brows tense in deep focus.

Ushijima Wakatoshi calls it pure and simple admiration. He respects your work, and finds your rise very inspirational. You struggled and worked to be where you are, just like he did. You have something in common, that’s why he likes, no, thinks highly of you.

It definitely has nothing to do with the way his eyes always fall on your dainty hands as you gesticulate in that one TikTok of yours. Or the apples of your cheeks that almost seem to explode when you laugh at a funny anecdote in your Vanity Fair interview on Youtube. Or the gentle curve of your waist that flows down into your hip in the dress you walked in with. Ushijima is a man who simply admires you, nothing more.

He just, for whatever reason, wants to keep it under wraps. So it’s convenient - or providential, if you will - when one of his employees approaches him with your instagram profile open on his phone. His eyes twinkle at the realization that someone he knows is aware of your name; it makes him oddly proud of you. But he doesn’t say anything, he just observes Goshiki babble and ramble about your work and your fame, as if his boss weren’t already aware of such basic information. Yes, basic. At least that’s what Ushijima, a dedicated fan of yours, thinks.

But he doesn’t bat an eye at the little, useless introduction he’s given; he maintains his stoic façade. He may slip when he’s told that you’re staying in Cancun for the week. And at the suggestion of inviting you over he gives his sturdy approval, one that Goshiki interprets as simple determination, not excited, hopeful, impatient expectation. It’s Tendo who sees right through his friend, grinning bemusedly at the almost feverish planning of his boss.

Ushijima sits down and plans a personalized menu for you, jogging his memory regarding your culinary likes and dislikes. He directs the little rearrangement of his restaurant, wanting to set the scene to something private and intimate, a little warm haven limited to the two of you, regardless of the sea of tables that will surround you. He even supervises the formatting of the virtual invite you’re sent, insisting to use one font over the other. It’s more appealing, he explains, even if, in reality, it’s the same one over on your blog, your favorite, he recalls.

First impressions matter, that’s what he says when he’s asked why such sudden changes take place. And even if his employees believe him, Tendo giggles behind his back.

He outrightly laughs when his friend flatly complains on the phone. Cufflinks are too formal, but a tie would be uncomfortable when eating. This is Ushijima’s debate, a silly one in Satori’s mind. But it’s a dilemma, a big one. One that has his shoulders droop and his forehead crease; one that has his hand scratch his chin and his mind race.

Their friendship is strong, with a deep understanding lining the bond, so when he’s given the advice to just be himself, Wakatoshi’s heart knows it’s sincere. On that evening, he approaches his restaurant with an odd sense of peace, the usual self confidence brimming from every step. He talks to his staff and encourages them, words succinct yet truthful. That’s their boss’ personality, and they appreciate the effort.

Everything seems to go to plan until he’s caught zoning out. Often. His eyes set on the way you grab hold onto your camera lens, almost maniacally adjusting focus and exposure. You’re a perfectionist, and he appreciates that, maybe a bit too much. So when you look up and ask him the ins and outs of the dish before you, he has no answer, torn out his little fantasy and pulled back on earth.

You take it all in stride, smiling warmly and repeating the question. You’re so gentle and polite that he finds himself feeling warm with juvenile embarrassment when answering you. He finds the whole exchange mortifying, you find the light blush on his cheeks adorable.

He thinks he can brush off his little blunder, but then Ushijima hyperfixates on the concentration in your eyes, unwavering and deep. It shines on your face, settles in your stance, anchors you to the ground. It’s mesmerizing, the entirety of you is. He lets his gaze drop, pupils rolling off the slope of your shoulders, down to the swell of your calves, until he slips deeper and deeper into his mind.

And over dinner, when you’re sitting opposite him, he gets distracted by the littlest things you do. He listens to you, even if he’s completely enraptured by the delicate twist and pull of your lips when you ask him to pour you some wine; or how your head tilts back to down the alcohol; or the slow, almost sensual, flutter of your lashes as you savor the distinct flavor. He’s lost in you.

And after many sincere compliments and a myriad of thanks, lingering touches dance along your waist as he takes you outside; he’s grown tired of just looking at you. A whiff of your perfume wafts into his nostrils, and he hates to admit that it stirs something deep within. But the nail in the coffin is probably the view of your ass swaying in the fabric that falls over your thighs. He has to get into action.

So when you gush about the beautiful view of the dark ocean, the gentle breeze chills him down his spine as opportunity peeks on the horizon. It’s quicker than a heartbeat, than the bat of an eye, and an offer tumbles out of his mouth, unrelenting underneath the sparkling stars.

You turn around, voice stuck in your throat, and a heat rises up your skin. It crawls from your neck to your face, from your belly to in between your thighs. He’s serious, oddly more than before. The look in his eyes is heady, deep and brazen. He’s probably never wanted anything more. Your lips part, and your answer spills from in between, shaky like the plume of a flame, but searing like its core.

And maybe the view from his place is much better indeed, but you don't have the chance to appreciate it, at least not while his hands hold onto your face and his lips press against yours.

It’s all so rushed: the clatter of his keys jamming into the lock; the way his leather shoes try to avoid your strappy heels as you kiss your way to the bedroom; the soft puffs of the pillows being thrown off the bed to make space for you.

He’s much more careful with your body. His hands dance along your sides, now resting on your waist, then going up to caress your back. And he never breaks the kiss, dragging you into a wonderfully consuming apnoea, a lack of breath that almost tingles, one that flows through you as pure desire.

And when he parts from you, lips glossy and flushed, he smiles at you, panting, breathing in your mouth, as you do with him. It’s as if oxygen weren’t an option, forgotten in the addicting dance your bodies are initiating, a rhythm that has you only needing each other.

Yes, because when he has you sit up to unzip your dress, all he wants is the warmth of your skin, so he kisses the crook of your neck lovingly, taking his time with each peck. Absolutely, because when he slips the thin straps off your shoulders, all he needs is to feel you in his hands, so he drags his palm along your sternum as the flesh of your breasts spills from his fingers. Without a doubt, because when your panties come off and a thin, crystalline web of your arousal breaks, he dies to have a taste of you, to bury himself in between your thighs. So he fulfills his wishes.

It’s astonishing how a man of such limited, direct speech can be so gentle and shy with his tongue. He suckles on your clit carefully, molding his lips against your folds with a feather touch. Even the wet noises are so subdued, drowned by your whines that ask him to put more pressure into his licks. And luckily for you he listens, large, large hands grabbing on the flesh of your hips to get you even closer, to feast on you properly.

The same hands seem uncharacteristically clumsy when they unbutton his shirt, excessive haste eating at his usual nonchalance, having nimble fingers fumble with fabric, losing their usual dexterity. Yours lay on his in silent reassurance, and it’s with silent surrender that he lets you strip him, faces getting close again as you uncover the body that had teased your mind in the last few days.

He sighs when you quickly brush over his nipples. He groans when you trail your fingertip along the valley of his chest, to the plane of his abs, down into his happy trail. He gasps when you unbuckle his belt, the cold metal briefly pressing against his skin. He moans when you reach into his pants to wrap your hand around him. He doesn’t know what makes his knees tremble more: the feeling of you stroking him or the eye contact you hold with him, heated and unfaltering.

It’s not something that worries him too much though, not when he pushes you softly into the bed, the cloudy comforter framing your parted thighs. You smirk at his impatience, because it mirrors yours. It drips thickly from his skin, it permeates the air.

Soon enough the same air gets coursed through and through by the noises you two make. Moans and whines, groans and grunts, the rustling of the sheets and the slaps that echo when you become one. He quickly drapes over you, lapping at your pulse softly, before he descends. He detaches from you, hovering over your heated skin with equally warm puffs from his mouth. His breath snakes into your pores and settles under your skin, making you shiver and sink, lower and lower into yourself. You feel mad.

All you can do is feel. Feel the head of his cock kiss your sweet spot deep inside you. Feel the dull ache that builds low in your belly. Feel his strong hands roam and grab, squeeze all they can.

He rests your thighs against his body, calves light on his shoulders, laxed ankles dangling over his back. And there he lays a kiss, so silky and intimate that your heart clenches at the act. His fingers skim up your leg loosely, tickling the sensitive skin, making him smirk at you squirming. He ‘s taking his time; he has so many things to do to you.

And even when used condoms litter the floor at the edge of the bed he’s still lost in you, slowly grinding into you, body slumping over yours, consumed by ecstasy, consumed by you. He molds you against the mattress with his weight, broad chest pressed against your shoulder. Your head falls in the pillow to then rise after a few seconds, just to admire the way he licks his lips as he takes in the way your asscheek claps in this position.

His gaze grows dark when his wild eyes rest on your collar bones, bitten and moistened by rough, growly kisses. But then the smallest of whines slips from you and his attention is on your face, lost and turned almost delirious from the driven rock of your bodies. In this state, eye contact is too much for you; and when golden green irises turn black, you turn away, hoping for the peace of the sea to calm you down.

Dark, thick waves hit the sandy shore like his hips, heavy and persistent. They roll against you, charged by the winds of unspoken words and concealed longing; they approach you with ever increasing force to then lull when he pulls away from you, just to do it all over again.

He’s strayed away, finding himself drowning in the way your body bounces at his thrusts, the moonlight casting the prettiest of shadows on your skin. He never grows tired of you trembling against him, the face of pleasure dismissing any trace of control from your limbs. He’s addicted to your swollen lips, the ones that moan his name, encouraging him to give you his all.

In the wantonness of his high, in the disregard of the moment, he calls out to you, a husky and deep grunt spoken against your mouth, spilled on your tongue, swallowed down your throat. Your arms fly around his neck while he releases his tension in thick, white spurts, and in the wake of a final orgasmic shiver, your warm hand smooths down his spine.

The hazy, distant sound of the ocean acts as white noise as you both regain composure, panting breaths getting lost in the salty breeze that flows through his linen curtains. His chest heaves in the dim room, sweaty skin catching the light of the now-on lamp next to the bed.

You chuckle when he lazily discards the third or fourth soiled condom to the ground with a loud huff. And when he asks you what’s so funny, you laugh at the puzzled look on his face; he looks so serious. He’s back to his normal self again.

But then he scoots closer, pulling your sticky body into his, and as his muscular arm lays comfortably in the curve of your waist, your head sits peacefully on his chest. He presses a kiss on your forehead; it’s probably a silent ‘thank you’, one he doesn’t find the courage or the strength to say, one that you’d love to reciprocate with a spoken declaration. But in this particular case, it’s not needed.

You both bask in your afterglow, each one aware of that fizzling excitement that you both have to let go in favor of harsh reality. So you make the most of the moment, whispered conversations filling the little space between the two of you, hushed giggles laughed into the pillows.

Buried in sheets that need to be changed and heaps of rumpled clothing you understand each other, you find one the other. He’s lost in you, you’re lost in him. Both lost together.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #hq x yn #haikyuu x black reader #ushijima x black reader #haikyuu x black!reader #ushijima x black!reader #ofblckwriters

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