#Tanning lamp
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Interior at the dressing table - Pierre Le-Tan , 1998.
French b. 1950 -
Acrylic on canvas , 130 x 97 cm. 51.2 x 38.2 in.
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General Electric Co, 1955
#GE#ad#1955#sunlamp#midcentury#advertisement#tan#winter#sun lamp#vintage#illustration#mid century#advertising#attractive#sun tans#light bulb#1950s#mid-century
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Friend: Let’s go swimming at 11am! It’s great tan time.
Me, already knowing this is going to be me in a race against the sun to reapply sunscreen to not look like a boiled lobster:
#ghost posts#I do not tan#my tan had my actually tan neighbor saying she loved how pale I was#like :( I want to not look dead#only thing going for me is the rosy cheeks#which isn’t so much a sign of health as it is high blood pressure#my tan is pale and my pale is reflected light from a lamp once to the point it flashbanged my sister
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Heat lamp
My explanation for the added color is that they move from implied underwear to swimsuits, finding it less salacious or what-a-not. This whole field of editing does become arbitrary and a tad haphazard and inconsistent. Guidelines more than set rules.
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every single time I plan to upload early my train gets cancelled mid-journey and I end up stuck at a random station in the middle of nowhere
#the universe is conspiring against me#todays station features a weird looking lamp post and a vending machine containing Pepsi bottles marked use by 2019#at least it’s sunny#I’d say I could sunbathe and try to get a tan#but I would just turn into a lobster#become redder than my hair#anyway#send emotional support before I die of boredom
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Enclosed - Traditional Dining Room
A sample of a mid-sized traditional enclosed dining room design with multicolored walls and no fireplace and a medium tone wood floor.
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Master Denver Inspiration for a large rustic master carpeted and beige floor bedroom remodel with white walls and no fireplace
#wall mounted reading lamp#black flat panel bedside tabes#weathered wood#vaulted ceilings#tan armchair
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Enclosed Dining Room Enclosed dining room - mid-sized traditional medium tone wood floor and brown floor enclosed dining room idea with multicolored walls and no fireplace
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Transitional Bedroom in New York Inspiration for a medium-sized transitional master bedroom remodel featuring a standard fireplace, gray walls, and a wood fireplace surround
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Red Interior - Pierre Le-Tan
French b. 1950 -
Ink and watercolour on paper
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You could have walked to the café to meet Nanami Kento alone; you'd have preferred to, in truth, walking slowly in slow drizzle.
Instead, He walked you there, pushing through the tinkling door that He held for you, begrudgingly, as if you should be grateful. You could not look up to meet Kento's eye.
When you did look up to see Kento, stood waiting for your pre-mission meeting, He pulled your gaze back with a scowl, and a grab of your jaw.
Kento caught whispered berating; mumbled pleas.
"--just a work meeting...please--"
"--you remember to text me. You'll do well to remember you're mine."
You jolted from His pat-slap to your cheek, too sharp to be affectionate but too weak to turn heads. Still, humiliation festered on your face, putrefaction laid by His hand.
Kento remained unmoved, passively unthreatened by His filthy glance before He retreated from the shop. Something dark stirred in Kento's gut. The malice was not meant for you.
You sat at the table, wordless, your cold hands wrapping around a coffee which seemed to be, curiously, your exact order. Already here. Already waiting. Just for you.
Kento pulled his own chair out, sitting opposite you, one long tan-trousered leg crossing over the other. You looked down, your eyes cast in shadow. Kento looked to the insidious, gloomy drizzle outside, his sharp features cast sharper by the midday lamplight.
Eventually, achingly smooth, his voice called you home.
"What does 'mine' mean to you?"
You looked up at him, blinking. Your brain ticked.
"I don't...I don't know."
Kento was quiet again, leaning back in his armchair beneath the arching lamp, regarding the rain as though it watered his thoughts. He spoke again; you hung onto every word.
"When I was a boy, my grandfather left me a diamond."
The coffee shop buzz dimmed, and slowed, and muted. Kento captivated you so easily. The world fell away. Here he was. Already here. Already waiting. Just for you.
"It was...exquisite-- the diamond. The best and the brightest. A beauty amongst beauties." Kento took a deep breath in through his nose, feeling your cold little heart slow. "I didn't deserve it. It was...a privilege, to call it mine. A mantle that I bowed my head to bear."
Your fingers loosened around your coffee as Kento continued. His voice strained, aching for something.
"I could never be enough for the diamond, so I...I would build my life around it. Not in spite of it, but because of it. I hesitate to say I possessed it; it was no painting, or ivory box. Its beauty was far too timeless to be owned, for this diamond's beauty would outlive us all. If not in body, at least in memory."
The air felt light in your lungs, and you with it, as if you floated on helium, high and sweet. You yearned to reach for what was not yours. Your little voice spoke up, braver in Kento's ambient warmth.
"Tell me...tell me more."
Kento obliged. "On days when my diamond was dull, without its shine, I'd polish it more. I'm...gentle. I know it better than my own skin, and by the time I'm done, it sparkles."
Your eyes drifted closed to trap your sorrow. Your head bowed down, as if to be a diamond in daydream.
"On days when it shines-- and, god it does shine-- I can only step back and admire it, while it takes its time in the sun. They...deserve each others' beauty, the sun and she, and I would wither and rot if I kept them from each other. My diamond...my diamond deserves the world, and it deserves her."
Kento leaned forwards, now. His ambient warmth kindled higher until you burned as though he were the sun, and you yearned to blossom.
"I fear its loss; I am only, of course, a man, and I couldn't expect others not to covet such treasure, and so I keep it close. I would bring it to my bed, if only it would let me. I'd hold it in my sheets, if I did not fear I would sully it by my proximity alone."
Your lips parted so briefly, your objections snagging on your teeth to remain upon your tongue. Your heart weighed down with mercury and lead. Kento's voice could not be more than a whisper, and yet, with the steam-arm shrieks and the tamping chatter muted to insignificance, you could hear him.
"I would surround her with other beautiful things; not costly things, not necessarily, as if material goods were needed to enhance her. But rather, those things, and only those things that compliment her as she compliments them, be they wildflower or fairytale or fine wine."
Your coffee salted with the drop of a tear from your bowed face. Kento turned aside from your tears; not to disregard them, but to allow their trails to bloom as if creeping wisteria-- growth, in grief. A handkerchief slid across the table to you in one broad, calloused hand, and Kento sounded physically pained.
"Eventually, as I age, I recognise that all I was, am, and will be, can be traced back to such a diamond; not because I could not live without it-- that wouldn't be accurate. Rather, because, with the diamond removed from the equations which make the sum of me, the equations would unravel-- nothing would make sense, and if I ever tried to replace it, I would always come up short. I would never find the answer again. If I were to lose it...I could only surmise that I did not deserve it, like...like a prophecy fulfilled. It is not mine, and it will never be, if I seek to possess it."
As you fought the urge to gasp for air, Kento's voice grew bitter, snide. You caught the sharp edge of a blade; the darkness that reminded you that he could be a dangerous man.
"Men who use 'mine' for their partners are less than a stone's throw from boys who would use 'mine' for a toy car or a set of dominoes. As if...as if they are a thing to be played with, and jealously possessed, until they are discarded and forgotten."
Your coffees cooled in the chilly aftermath of Kento's monologue. Your purpose for meeting was forgotten. You were numb-footed as you stood, and followed Kento outside to the rain in the shelter of his great umbrella. He offered you an arm, and you took it, tucked close to his body.
It was curious, you thought, as Kento walked you to the train station. Arm in arm was less intimate in the eyes of society than hand in hand, but the hold was so much more intimate upon the body of the receiver.
Kento closed his fingers around yours, gently refusing, as you offered him back his handkerchief. He waited until you were beneath shelter, and did not turn to walk away until you did. Your heart pounded. Your body and mind were alive with sweet botanicals and promise. You turned on a pinhead, calling back up the subway steps.
"Kento! Did you...do you really have a...a diamond like that?"
A pause in wet footsteps. Fine needles of rain upon his umbrella. Kento called back.
"Sadly, no. It's only a dream. But if I did have that diamond...well. I would be proud to call her mine."
Your heart would surely burst. You couldn't breathe. Your cold little hand clasped the handrail on the stairs, and you sought to deny Kento's morbid prophecy.
"You could...you could steal it. A...a diamond. Your diamond."
A smile, and a hum.
"I could. Perhaps I shall. Perhaps...soon."
#pseudowho#jjk#kento nanami#haitch#nanami kento#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami i love you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x y/n#nanami#nanami fanart#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanamin
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Open in Houston Remodeling ideas for a medium-sized, open-concept family room in a coastal style with gray walls, a two-sided fireplace, a tile fireplace, and a media wall.
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Beach Style Bedroom Miami Bedroom - small coastal guest carpeted bedroom idea with brown walls
#brown framed art#yellow glass lamp#tan and white design rug#black rattan chair'white desk#recessed lights#rattan shades
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Los Angeles Living Room Example of a large trendy loft-style light wood floor living room design with beige walls, a corner fireplace, a tile fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : What happens when you almost get caught in the act by your son? Whatever it is, Satoru is unfazed & too pussywhipped to care.
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : 18+ (mdni), riding position, mentions of overstimulating, (princess/ baby) used to adress reader, cock-blocking, fem!reader.
“He’s finally asleep.” Satorou huffs out, tiredly, trudging to his respective side of the bed and immediately tossing himself onto the mattress beside you. You can’t help but softly giggle when he does such dramatic things, acting as if your son had tormented him—though your sweet boy would never do such things.
“C’mere.” he murmurs mindlessly to you, reaching out a long arm before you can even process what he’s said and pulling your form flush to his chest.
His sultry tone already tells you what he wants.
“‘Toru…are you sure he’s sleeping?” you mumble under your breath, scooting closer to your lover and placing a hand worryingly to his cheek. Recollections of the last time Satorou’s antics had almost occurred to your toddler catching you both in the act flood your mind, and you want to do everything in your power to keep that from happening again. But, Satoru, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried about the circumstances.
“I’m sure, baby,” he promises, almost too quickly. Although you’ve always been one to take him for his word, as unethical as that may sound, and you hesitantly nod in response.
Satoru raises an eyebrow for a second, noticing the uncertainty laced within your eyes.
“We don’t have to, y’know.”
“No—I want to.”
You mask your worry with a honeyed smile, and lean into his lips. It’s almost instinct with the way his body moves to close the gap between your lips, his soft ones colliding messily to yours not a second later.
Satoru moans into the kiss, having found pleasure without even entering you yet. His big hands slide down your torso, lifting you effortlessly on top of him in the process, and find purchase on your hips.
“Mhm, ‘d you lock the door?” you whisper into the kiss, opening your eyes only to find a totally blissed-out Satoru. But, he merely hums, continuing to move his lips unfazed and too deep in the kiss to stop.
The dim light your bedroom lamp provides casts onto your lovers face, giving him a warm, loving glow that —though has quite the opposite effect of warm, and loving—causes your cunt to throb.
“Need to be inside you, princess,” he groans, only pulling away to fill his lungs with the breath you’ve stolen from him, pupils blown wide. And when he’s done, without another word, he’s kissing you again.
Soon enough, with the way he’s grinding his already half-hard cock against your clothed pussy, and the manner in which he’s smothering his lips against yours, you forget what you’d earlier asked.
He, in fact, did not lock the door.
“So fucking needy for you,” he murmurs underneath his breath, softly clamping his teeth down on your lower lip as he pulls back. Satoru takes in the sight before him; you, lips rosy, swollen, and agape, on top of him with nothing but some skimpy sleep shorts and a crop top—it’s almost too good of a sight to behold, he thinks.
“Need you too,”
Your hands are quick to find the hem of his grey sweats, tugging his boxers down alongside his pants just enough for his cock to spring up.
The leaky, pink tip releases a droplet of pre-cum, and your eyes watch attentively as it slides down his sturdy, tan base.
With just one touch, Satoru’s already thrusting up into your hands. “S-shit, don’t do this t’me. Just put it in.” he breaths, azure, blue eyes boring into yours with a stare like never before. It’s compelling in a way, and you find yourself sliding your shorts and panties aside as you position yourself over his shaft.
Rough hands smoothing over your ass, he pushes you down onto the head.
You moan deliciously, your palms flat against his chest once he's fully in. And as much as you'd love to tell him how good this all feels, how he's so deep and snug inside you, all that comes out is a choked cry of his name.
"Shh, y'don't have to say anything, I know it feels good," he hums, wearing a smug grin on his face—knowing he's the one that's got you a babbling mess—cocky as ever. "Just keep riding—fuck, just like that."
You're soon bouncing on his cock, a stream of fat tears rolling down your cheeks, and throat too sore to do anything but whimper.
"Satoru, baby.." you whine, throwing your head back in utter bliss.
"Yeah, princess?"
"You're so deep..."
And Satoru's never felt compelled to outdo himself more than he does now, the thoughts of overstimulating you swarming his head more than he'd like to admit. He groans at your words, and only wants to push himself deeper—deeper until you're crying out his name.
Satoru, Satoru, Satoru...
...But, you're whispering.
"Satoru!" you whisper-shout, finally snapping the frenzied man out of his trance. Both your heads whip to the door, and a panicked-silence falls over the bedroom.
Your heart races as you hear the pitter-patter of small feet stop right in front of the bedroom. “Mama?” your toddler calls out, thankfully knocking on the door before he lets himself in. You’re more than glad he didn’t take after his father when it came to manners.
“I’ll be right there, sweetie!…don’t come in, ok?” And you’re making quick work of tying your silk robe around yourself, though, not much to your surprise, Satoru simply covers himself and watches things unfold.
“Ok..” you cringe at the confusion laced within his cute voice, making your way to the door. “I need to go the bathroom, hurry, mama.”
Your eyebrows bunch together. “You used to go to the bathroom all by yourself, honey, what happened?”
“Papa told me the boogeymen would come get me if i went alone.”
You shoot a deadly clear at Satoru, who happens to be coincidentally ‘sleeping’ at the moment.
But the moment you arrive back, having tucked your son into bed properly this time, he’s awake.
“Baby, I can explain.”
Could he really, though?
Your eyes roll in annoyance, and you get into bed with your robe on, giving him the hint that what had taken place before would not continue.
You face away from him, reveling in the way he’s straight after you, a hand already on your hip.
“So…can we?” he trails off as his hand snakes down, and you feel as if you can see the pout on his face when you push him away.
“No more pussy for you, boogeyman.”
#𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐒࿔*:・#this is so silly#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk s2#jjk x reader#jjk satoru#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk fic#jjk headcanons#jujutsu satoru#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru gojo#satoru smut#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojou satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo satorou#gojo satoru headcanons#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you
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Living Room - Contemporary Living Room Living room - large contemporary open concept light wood floor living room idea with white walls
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