#private guitar instruction

[black-fist-order]

A little black history for ya'...!

In late 2011, Prince Rogers Nelson walked into Capitol Guitars, a modest music store in St. Paul, Minnesota. Dressed in dark shades and an overcoat, he browsed quietly, barely speaking. The staff recognized him instantly but chose to respect his silence. He pointed at a few guitars, asked about the tonal difference between maple and mahogany, and then paused when the owner mentioned a recent conversation with a local teacher. The teacher had said that students at Anwatin Middle School in Minneapolis were losing access to their music program due to severe budget cuts.

Prince nodded slightly and left without purchasing anything.

Three days later, a delivery truck arrived at Capitol Guitars. Prince had returned but not to shop. Instead, he gave the owner a handwritten list and a simple instruction: “Everything on this list, pack it and deliver it to Anwatin.” The list included guitars, drum sets, violins, keyboards, amps, microphones, and recording equipment. When the owner asked if the instruments should be marked with a donor name or message, Prince replied, “No names. No credit. Just send love.”

The delivery created confusion at the school. Teachers and administrators at Anwatin Middle School had no advance notice, and the delivery slip listed only a phone number that led to a private voicemail. Music teacher Kenneth Simms opened the shipment, stunned by the quality and quantity of the instruments. He assumed it was a mistake. It took several days of asking around and comparing handwriting on the note that came with the shipment before a staff member connected it to Prince, who had visited the store days earlier.

When a friend later asked him about it, Prince said, “That’s between me and the kids. Not for headlines.” He declined to make any public statement or appear at the school. According to Minneapolis-based journalist Jon Bream from "Star Tribune", even the school district wasn’t formally notified. They only learned about the donor’s identity after teachers pieced the story together.

Those close to Prince knew his silent generosity wasn’t a one-time impulse. During his early years growing up on the north side of Minneapolis, he often spoke about the importance of music education. His mother, Mattie Shaw, was a jazz singer and heavily involved in the local music scene. Prince once said in a 1999 interview with "Ebony", “If I hadn’t had access to a piano when I was seven, I don’t know who I would’ve become. Music wasn’t a hobby, it was a lifeline.”

Former bandmate Sheila E. recalled in her 2014 memoir "The Beat of My Own Drum" how Prince frequently funded youth centers and music camps without telling anyone. “He believed in giving kids a chance to create,” she wrote. “He didn’t want applause. He wanted them to play.”

At Anwatin, the new instruments transformed the energy of the school. Simms recalled how students began coming to class early just to practice. A hallway that once echoed with silence after the final bell now hummed with guitar riffs, drumbeats, and laughter. “We didn’t just get instruments,” Simms told "MinnPost" in 2012, “we got hope.”

Store owner Alan Geller, who kept the receipt from Prince’s bulk order tucked in his office drawer, shared later that the musician didn’t even ask for a discount. “He said, ‘Charge full price. They deserve the best.’”

For Prince, who had often used his wealth to quietly support causes tied to youth empowerment, the act wasn’t about visibility. His friend Van Jones later commented during an interview with "CNN", “He believed that if you help a kid find their rhythm, they might avoid chaos. He never needed a stage for that.”

The donation never became a national headline. There were no photo ops or ceremonies. But in a city where music had once saved a young boy from the streets, it was returned, quietly, to the next generation. Prince gave them music when theirs had been taken away and never asked for anything in return...

[soupuurr]

𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘 - christopher sturniolo

pairing. sub!chris x dom!reader

genre. smut

⟶ content warnings. explicit content, porn with plot, guitarist!chris, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral, handjob, dacryphilia, overstimulation, creampie. MDNI

⟶ summary. you never expected to be drawn to your new guitar instructor, finding it hard to concentrate during lessons as your mind wanders. But what unfolds when you find yourself at his house for a lesson?

holy shit.

your breath hitched—eyes moving with reverence across the expanse of the shabby downtown studio you stumbled into. its wooden plank walls were adorned with numerous colorful guitars and basses. a breathtaking musical maze. timber stools had been meticulously placed amongst the lengthy isles, bringing you to a palatial library filled with guitar books.

your fingers ran along the straps of the acoustic guitar case resting snug against your back. as you wandered deep into the studio, your eyes bounced off of the unique furniture and decorative pieces scattered around the area.

you were quickly captivated by faint strumming echoing throughout the building, and with each venturous step inside, the sound seemed to intensify. you curiously spun around the corner of the last isle before halting—all of the air escaped your lungs as you stood, dumbfounded, in front of possibly the most ethereal boy you’ve ever seen.

he sat on a wooden stool, beat up air forces resting against the bottom. his back was hunched over a dark brown acoustic embellished with an intricate pattern along the sound hole—blue eyes trained on his fingers that expertly glided along the fretboard. wavy brunet hair peeked out from his black, lyrical lemonade beanie, and a thin silver chain rested neatly on his neck.

you must’ve startled the poor guy—he jumped after noticing your presence, nearly dropping the precious guitar in his hold.

“s-shit.” he mumbled, swiftly clearing his throat and adjusting his posture.

“i’m sorry about that. you must be my new student!” he smiled professionally before sticking his hand out,

he was your new guitar instructor?

you stretched out your own hand, his much larger one entirely engulfing yours as he shook it. your eyes lingered on his long fingers and neatly trimmed nails, his pretty hands were decorated with attractive veins and silver jewelry. you couldn’t help but imagine how they might feel inside of your pussy, your heart fluttered at the thought.

“my name is chris, nice to meet you.” he stated as he hopped off of his stool, carefully placing the guitar on a nearby stand.

chris. his name seemed so moan-able too, tumbling right off of the tongue like sweet honey.

fuck, everything about him was perfect.

“our lessons will be upstairs, in the private rooms.” your tummy flipped with excitement. you couldn’t trust yourself alone with him, fearing you might pounce on him the very moment he would shut the door behind you.

you followed him up the narrow staircase, the surrounding air tense with sexual frustration—at least for you. your gentle footsteps reverberated around the tapered space as chris led you to a roughed-up door ornamented with multiple stickers consisting of lyrical lemonade, guitars, music artists, you name it.

the interior, however, was plain and simple. holding only a tiny cabinet—filled with books you assume—and a couple of movie posters. two different guitars were leaned against the back wall, a normal acoustic, and a beautiful red electric one. chris chuckled next to you, observing your piqued interest.

“that one’s my favorite.” he nodded his head towards the cherry colored guitar.

“it’s so beautiful.” you remark. he smiled, gazing at you intently. after a sharp exhale, he reached for the acoustic guitar—preparing for your lesson.

the lesson itself was pretty uneventful to say the least, you couldn’t focus on a single thing that chris had instructed you to do, often finding yourself hypnotized by his plump lips or icy blue eyes.

truthfully, chris also found himself to be enamored by you. he found your fascination incredibly endearing. there was something about you that made him eager to learn more.

with each lesson, your bond undeniably deepened—the friendship blooming into something raw and beautiful.

and, with each lesson, chris wanted more. your cute giggles and lengthy conversations would no longer suffice. chris didn’t know what was wrong with him, he knew it was fucked up when he would catch himself slipping a hand past his waistband in the after hours, needy pants and whimpers leaving his desperate lips as his hand would wrap around his base—pretending that it was your own. he felt so dirty, so wrong.

you would be doing the same. pumping two fingers inside of your cunt whenever your mind would drift off to lewd, disgusting thoughts about your guitar instructor—his fingertips that would move so swiftly on the guitar strings would probably feel amazing rubbing against your puffy clit, plus his gorgeous face was way too perfect not to ride. just thinking about him made you giddy and immensely horny.

therefore, it was only natural that your heart would race upon receiving the text he sent you the following day.

the studio is closed today, we’ll have our lesson at my house if that’s okay with you.

*address*

a lesson at his house? you bit your nails nervously before smoothing your hand down the skimpy skirt you had planned to surprise him with. as you drove to his home, the atmosphere was suffused with unbearable silence, the prospect of being alone in his house making you nervous—you pictured him patiently waiting for you in such an intimate setting and it churned your stomach with anxiety.

you rang his doorbell and the door swung open almost immediately. chris’s eyes filled with lust the moment they landed on you, swallowing thickly as he caught sight of the skirt that wrapped so nicely around your thighs. he cursed at himself when he felt his dick grow in his pants.

“c-come in!” chris prayed that you somehow missed his obvious hard-on, stepping aside to allow you to enter while shielding himself with the door. he depravedly watched your hips sway with every step you took—knowing that he needed to control himself before he would make a mess in his pants.

“are we going to be over here?” you gestured towards the couch and small stool positioned in the center of the living room. chris nodded silently in response. what was he thinking? having the girl he fantasized about every night in his fucking living room? chris wished that he could go back in time—he wished that he never met you because fuck, you drove him insane.

and you weren’t stupid. you saw chris’s cock stir in his pants the moment you stepped foot inside, however you had to admit that you absolutely loved playing with him, doing things like stretching purposefully—exposing your navel to his hungry blue eyes.

you sat on the tiny stool, your plump thighs deliciously resting on the wood. chris wanted nothing more than to run his soft hands under your cami shirt—kiss your neck feverishly while grinding his painfully hard dick against you.

“i practiced this piece at home and i just can’t get this chord right.” you pulled your guitar from its case and hugged it tightly, wearing a pout on your face.

“will you help me chris?” you looked at him seductively from under your lashes, a tiny smirk carving its way onto your pink lips. chris gritted his teeth—you had to know what you were doing, right?

“uhm, yeah. this one’s a bar chord so you have to make sure that your pointer finger is pressing down on every string. like this.” chris adjusted his hand and you observed as his fingers curled perfectly around the guitar neck, you squeezed your thighs together in want before a brilliant, filthy idea struck you.

“hmm, i don’t think i get it” you frown, chris watched with wide eyes as you got up from your seat and alluringly strode towards him—moving his guitar out of the way so you could place your ass right on his erection. chris hissed from underneath you, still in shock as he hovered his hands over your hips. he wanted to thrust his hips against you so fucking bad, but he had to be professional. you just needed help, nothing more.

"can you show me now?" you set the guitar back on your lap and gently took hold of chris’s wrist, guiding his fingers to position them over yours on the fretboard. his fingers deftly directed yours to the correct position, while his other hand strummed the chord, its beautiful sound ringing in the air.

you softly bit your lip as you felt his breath tickling your neck, you could smell his aromatic scent—feeling him everywhere. his chest against your back, arms curved around your figure and cock pressing against your soaking wet cunt. you couldn’t help yourself as you ground your hips against his experimentally. chris gasped and placed his hands against you. fingertips curving around your hipbones so he could push your hips back onto his clothed cock. you held the guitar tightly as you rubbed your pussy against him. you felt as if you were going to explode, his teasing touch lingering on your sides.

fuck it.

you swiftly placed the guitar on the ground and flipped around—straddling him. his blue eyes greedily ran themselves down your body, landing on the spot where you intimately connected. your hands ruffled through his long messy hair before pulling at the lone strands—bringing your lips together with fervor. chris moaned, your teeth clashing and noses bumping as your heads nodded into the lust filled kiss.

chris’s hands traveled along your back, pressing gently against your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck and grind your body against him once more. your tits pressed onto him and your perky nipples grazed his chest every so slightly. you disconnected your lips with a soft smack, gazing lazily into each other’s eyes.

“tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” you huffed, placing your hands on his chest. chris hummed in response, eager for you to finally touch him. you leisurely removed yourself from his lap and perched in-between his thighs. your hands land on his belt, pulling it through the loops before yanking it off of his body. chris sat obediently, biting his lips raw—cheeks sprinkled rosy pink.

your fingers hooked themselves on his jeans, sliding them off with ease—and your mouth salivated at the sight of his pretty cock standing painfully against his abdomen, cute pink tip spurting beads of pre-cum. chris dropped his jaw as your thumb found his tip, sliding his slick along his cock. you place your lips on him and tenderly purse your lips around his slit before sliding him further down your throat. chris’s hands shoot to your hair, hips bucking helplessly while pretty little moans spew past his lips. you gently squeeze his balls against your fingertips as you watch him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

“f-fuck!” chris pants out, your acrylic nail slides its way along the base of his cock before you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him painfully slow while you hollow your cheeks. the movement of your hand gradually increases, constant squelches of chris’s slick filling the room. you pull away until your mouth was occupied with just his tip, sucking on it harshly and pushing his hips down when they would buck against your mouth, you observe his desperate gasps and pants as he got closer and closer to the edge.

it wasn’t long before lengthy, thick ropes of chris’s cum squirted down your throat. the slightly salty taste on your tongue ripping a moan from your lips, chris squirmed with overstimulation as the noise vibrated against his cock.

he looked so pretty with his face fucked out, lashes fluttering on his pink cheeks and chest heaving with every breath he took. you wanted to ruin him. please him so well that all he would be able to do is sit there and take it like a good boy.

you prod your fingers at his lips before pushing them past, watching as he sucked on them with hooded eyes—plump lips resting against your skin.

your lips curled into a smirk, abruptly pulling your fingers out and rubbing the palm of your hand against his sensitive tip. chris yelped and arched his back deliciously, body squirming against the couch as your palm pushed deeper. your fingers curled around him—digging your thumb in his slit. chris cried out, eyes pooling with tears of absolute pleasure. he squeezed them shut and sobbed, the welled up tears sliding down his cheeks as he came again. the warm spurts striking your hand and ruining his shirt.

“can you handle another one?” you stood up, straddling his hips once more. chris nodded and pushed his lips against yours, whining into every smack of your lips. you drag your hands underneath his spoilt shirt, peeling it off of his body. your other hand pushed your thong to the side before stretching your precious cunt over his cock. you both moan in unison as you begin to rock your hips—hands trailing up his chest to pinch his nipples between your fingers. chris winces and leans his head against the couch, your hips swiveling on his cock while you pinned his wrists against the cushions. you were so close, capturing his lips in a kiss when you finally felt yourself fall apart, chris’s cock twitched inside of you—filling you spurt after spurt until a ring of white cum leaked around his base.

you fall limp against him, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

"that was amazing," chris panted—kissing your cheek as you lay on top of him. you giggled in response, brushing your hand against his jaw.

“i guess we should continue our lesson right?”

a.n.

i cannot even begin to fathom the amount of love my dilf!matt fic got. you guys are actually insane. thank you SO MUCH for reading my works and supporting me, this is such a surreal moment.

also thank you for 300 followers. ALREADY.

but seriously, i’m in shock. thank you guys so much.

tags.

@luverboychris @sturniololvrrs @sturniolo0ntop @deadiish @robins-scoop @ihad-athought @matt444nixi @delooshunalhoe @sturnlover4eva @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @sturni0l0 @pepsiboyy @devscottage @leahsbussy @sturncon @asimp4chris @gdsvhtwa @stvrnmc @bimbob1tch @m0r94n @mattsturnxoxo @themattgirl17 @lauras14567 @ev3rgreenxtrees @autsturni @killuaxgabby @sturniolosarethebest @mattssluttygf @getosuckers @kenzieiskoolaid @fuckshitslover @miabumbia @t77te @futuristicladywonderland @janiellasblog @strnzzvsp @mattsdirtylittlehoe @stvrnmc @ifwfrankocean @sturniolosl0t @madssturniolo @poopydroopt @ilymusic27 @vetej05 @anisahgonzalez @satvisfavetoodles @youtubelover03 @nicksrosetoy @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @matts-whore

i’m so sorry if i couldn’t find you/put you in here, i can only tag 50 of y’all 😭

[pikachic]

Lasciare Suonare: In music terminology, it means to 'let ring'; sustain. An instruction to allow the sound to continue, do not damp. Used frequently in harp or guitar music, occasionally in piano or percussion.

Here are my pieces for this year’s Malevolent Madness Mixup- a six page comic of a scene from Lasc1are_Su0nare by the amazing @maddoc05! It’s a story where Arthur is a private investigator and John is an android singer entangled with Arthur’s most recent case.

Go give it a read! We had so much fun working on the story and art and we’re super proud of the result! And thank you so much to Maddy for working with me and for writing such a delicious fic, and to @malevolentmadnessmixup for making this event possible!

[codename-sleuth]

Agent file: 24601. "Sleuth". (Character sheet!)

Name: [CLASSIFIED]

Codenames and Nicknames: Sleuth, Detective, Recon, 24601, Agent 24601, Intelligence, Bing bong clock mother******, Chestnut (by [REDACTED]), Rogue Agent (by Sarge), Charmer (by ???), Anomaly 24601, Clockhead (by Evren). Motives: ??? Goals: Get better.

Gender: Male, He/him Species: Unstable hybrid (Human & ???)

Sexuality: Unsure

Religion: Unsure.

Age: 24 as of 2017. Born July 19th, 1993. Both physically and mentally 18.

Height: 5 feet 10 inches.

Weight. 138 lbs.

Physical Appearance: Caucasian, messy brown hair, clock mask pointing to exactly 2:00, Wirey, good posture. His left arm seems to be withered and gray, almost like that of a corpse.

Disorders and Mental illnesses: PTSD, CPTSD, OCD, severe anxiety, retrograde amnesia + anterograde amnesia [both fluctuate], survivor's guilt, avoidant attachment, depression, hypervigilance, codependency, suicidal ideation, night terrors, sleep paralysis, insomnia, dissociative flashbacks.

Complexes: Savior Complex [he feels like he needs to protect the people he cares about no matter what].

Physical Disorders: Space-time phasing, chronic pain in left arm, traumatic brain injury.

Dominant hand: Ambidextrous. Blood color: Purple.

Positive personality traits: Protective, caring, smart, generous, loyal, emotionally intelligent. Negative personality traits: Anxious, distrustful, cowardly, antisocial, indecisive. 

Alignment: Lawful neutral. Vague backstory: Sleuth used to want to be a historian, However, due to a severe blow to the head, he developed a serious disability that affected his ability to remember certain facts and events. Instead, he became an operative for a mercenary unit employed by the Anomalous Occult Foundation, serving as reconnaissance. This is where he earned the codename Sleuth. He was a very skilled operative and was utilized quite frequently as his memories containing classified information were relatively easy to suppress. He knows he’s done bad things. On one of his missions, an anomaly resulting in the death of his entire troop, including his romantic partner, left him stranded on a remote island. [He has more lore, but where’s the fun in revealing it all here?]

Job: “Private Investigator”, Inventor.

Languages: English, Spanish, ASL, French, German, Russian, Greek, Portuguese [One of the things he can consistently remember!]

Loves: [REDACTED]

Likes: Small spaces, handshakes, physical touch, clear instructions, being considered friends, anomalies, contingency plans, feeling safe.

Indifferent with: People who make him feel threatened.

Dislikes: Words of affirmation, being handed things, narcissism, lying people, foods with slimy textures, american football, organized religion, eye contact.

Hates: “Sarge”, himself, murder, A.O.F.

Obsessions: Contingency planning. Addictions: Self harm, caffeine.

Powers: Multiversal phasing, Lifesteal touch, Flash step, Bullet time, Precognition, Blindsight/Echolocation, Enhanced reaction time, slightly enhanced speed, enhanced perception, Regenerative abilities (VERY slow). Skills: Survival, combat, intelligence, deduction, investigation, engineering. Weaknesses: Normal human weaknesses, dying, his own contingency plan, memory, [REDACTED]

Flaws: Anxiety, memory problems, stubborn, incredibly distrustful. When confronted with something he hasn’t planned for his fight or flight response will freeze for a second out of pure anxiety. Prone to panic attacks.

Favorite places: His apartment, Heaven, Daisy’s attic, his crate, His office. Favorite foods: Chinese takeout, anything he can make. Favorite Flower: Dandelions.

Scent: Petrichor. Favorite color: Dark red. Hobbies: Puzzles, listening to music, singing and playing guitar, tinkering with watches and small mechanical objects, listening to radio shows, journaling, reading, inventing machinery. Comfort objects: Pocket watch, mask, dogtags. Stims: Rubbing index and middle finger together, bouncing leg, pacing. Awareness: VERY aware. [EFFECT: ???] Fears: Not being able to trust anyone, people hating/leaving him, doctors, hospitals, therapists, water/drowning, failing everyone.

Lives in: Brooklyn, NY. (2017) Weapons: Anything he can find. He usually carries a gun (Interference), Knife, and Smoke bomb. Themes: 

Calm theme: Mackay - Ren

Combat theme: Snakes (From Arcane) - PVRIS, MIYAVI

Voice claim: Sam Porter Bridges - Death Stranding

Relations: (% Represents how much he trusts a person, not how much he likes them!)

Family: ???

Friends: Cosmic!! (65%), Zailyn (50%), Aculia (40%), Daisy (65%), Kriston (35%), Jonah (20%), February (20%), Dan (20%), Clover (20%) Zandeee (30%), Marcid (35%).

Acquaintances: Cookie Star (10%), Jessa (20%), Radio (0%), Grat (10%), Cosmo (30%).

Frenemies: None.

Enemies: Sarge (1%), Maviel (0.1%), XXE (0%), Vini (0%).

Partners: None.

Pets: None.

Boss: Sarge (Ex-boss) (1%), Ebrofour (Current) (30%).

Alters (In Order of Emergence):

Acheron Hamilton/Chestnut.

Acheron Pythius.

The Boxer.

[REDACTED].

Agent 24601/Charmer.

The Decayed.

Sleuth/Anomaly 24601/Clockhead (Host).

[vmiuchi]

Linde giving reader guitar lessons and things get smutty

BENEATH THE STRINGS.

Mikko "Linde" Lindström x Female Reader. One shot.

word count: 1289

(NSFW warning)

The studio had that smell—dust, old wood, maybe some faded cigarette smoke clinging to the walls like a memory someone forgot to wipe clean. It wasn’t sterile. It wasn’t even clean. But it felt like a place where music didn’t just echo—it stuck around. Like every note ever played there was still floating in the corners.

You shifted your guitar strap and glanced up at the wall clock. Five minutes past. You tapped your fingers against your thigh, caught in a restless mix of nerves and frustration. When you signed up for private guitar lessons in Helsinki, you were picturing some gray-haired session musician. Someone no-nonsense, maybe a little cranky. Not him.

The door squeaked open.

“Sorry I’m late,” came a voice—easy, unbothered.

Mikko "Linde" Lindström walked in like he belonged to the room. Like maybe he was part of the room. He carried a black guitar case, slung casually over one shoulder, and wore the kind of layered black outfit that made him look like a walking shadow. His hair was pulled back, but a few strands had escaped to frame the sharp lines of his face. Rings glinted on his fingers—almost too many—but somehow, they suited him.

You tried not to stare. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Probably used to it.

“You ready to play?” he asked, already pulling his guitar from its case, his movements smooth and practiced.

You gave a small nod, trying to keep your face neutral. “Yeah. Think so.”

He gestured to the spot next to him. You sat, the strap biting into your shoulder.

The lesson started off straightforward. Chords. Finger positioning. Posture. Stuff you expected. But the air between those instructions—that’s where the strange current lived. Whenever his fingers brushed yours, just briefly to adjust your grip, something lit up under your skin. Not dramatic. Just...electric. And the way he leaned in close to explain something, his voice low and rough, wrapped in a Finnish accent—god, it hooked into your chest.

“You’re too stiff,” he said at one point, stepping behind you. “Loosen up. Let the music move through you.”

His hands settled gently on your shoulders, coaxing them down. The pressure was firm, but not invasive. Grounding. You exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped.

“Better,” he said quietly, and didn’t step back right away.

Lesson two was different. More fluid. He asked you questions—what bands you liked, what made you want to play. You answered, maybe more than you should’ve. He listened. Really listened. Then told you about the first time he ever performed, how his hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped the guitar. You laughed, and he laughed too, and suddenly it didn’t feel like student and teacher anymore. Just two people, talking music.

By the third lesson, the air between you had changed.

You didn’t leave right after. On purpose.

Neither of you moved when the hour ended. Instead, he sank into the worn-out couch against the wall, guitar still in hand. He started playing something slow and familiar—not a song you knew, exactly, but it felt like you should. You sat beside him, not touching, but close enough that the heat of him reached you.

“That yours?” you asked.

He shrugged, barely smiling. “Old one. Never released. Maybe it still deserves a shot.”

“Play it again.”

He did. You watched his hands. His fingers moved like they were telling a story—fluid, confident, quiet. You were mesmerized.

“You pick things up fast,” he said eventually. “Most people chase perfect. You just listen.”

Your mouth felt dry. “You’re...easy to listen to.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. And set the guitar aside.

“What are you really here for?” he asked. Not accusing. Just curious. But your stomach flipped.

You didn’t answer with words. Just stood, heart in your throat, and stepped into the space between you. He looked up, breath shallow, but didn’t move away. When you leaned in, he met you halfway.

The kiss started slow. Careful. Like both of you were checking to make sure it was okay. When his hand found your waist and pulled you closer, you melted into it, your fingers threading through his hair. He kissed like someone who’d been thinking about it for a while.

He stood without breaking contact, guiding you gently until your back hit the wall. His body pressed against yours, warm and solid. You gasped into his mouth, tugging at the hem of his hoodie. He pulled it off in one motion, and there he was—tattooed, lean, marked by time and experience.

Your hands moved over him. Slowly. Exploring. He shivered.

“You sure?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded. “Yeah. Really sure.”

He kissed you again, slower now. Like a song that builds instead of bursts. When he undressed you, it was with care, pausing to kiss each new inch of skin like he was discovering something sacred. It wasn’t rushed. It was warm and a little wild and a lot real.

The couch creaked when he laid you down. He hovered above for a second, just watching you. Like he was saving the image.

When he moved inside you, it was patient. Measured. A rhythm all its own. His hand cupped your cheek while his body pressed deeper against yours, breath mingling, skin sliding, every movement deliberate. He watched your face closely, reacting to each gasp and whimper, like you were the melody and he was learning it one note at a time.

His pace quickened as your hips met his, a wordless harmony building between you. He whispered to you between kisses—fragments of your name, things that didn’t need translating. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him even closer, grounding yourself in the weight and warmth of him.

His mouth traveled, leaving kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your chest—pausing just long enough to make your heart race harder. His fingers threaded through yours, pinning one of your hands above your head, the other hand cradling your waist as he thrust deeper, the rhythm turning urgent and full.

You arched beneath him, riding the edge of something that felt too big to name. The pressure built slowly, then all at once—waves crashing into waves. You cried out, your body trembling with release. He groaned your name against your neck, following seconds later, his grip tightening as if holding himself together through you.

After, he collapsed beside you, both of you panting, flushed, limbs tangled. The room was quiet except for your breathing and the faint hum of an amp in the background. His hand found yours again, fingers linking naturally.

Later, wrapped in a blanket, skin still buzzing, you lay tangled together. He traced lazy shapes on your back.

“You okay?” he asked.

You smiled. “Yeah. More than okay.”

He kissed your temple. “Didn’t want to rush it.”

“You didn’t,” you murmured.

The amp in the corner buzzed softly. A few guitar picks had scattered onto the floor, like punctuation marks no one planned. The whole room felt different now. Like it had recorded what just happened.

“Next lesson’s gonna be weird,” you joked.

He chuckled. “We might need a bigger couch.”

You glanced at him. “So this wasn’t just...spur-of-the-moment?”

His gaze sobered. “Not unless you want it to be.”

You reached for his hand. Linked your fingers.

“I’ll be back next week.”

He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Don’t forget your guitar. Or the strap.”

You smirked. “I’ll bring extra picks.”

He grinned. “Smart student.”

You left eventually, walking together into the cool Helsinki night, soda cans in hand, silence between you—but this time, it felt like something. Not an ending.

A beginning. And yeah... it sounded a lot like music.

[simmervlogs]

Wentworth Manor

Hello Simmers, get ready for a game of Beer Pong at the Wentworth Manor . A former family home converted into a Fraternity. This is a requested build which I was so excited to do! I would also like to say a massive thank you to all you guys for your support- we just hit 8k on Tiktok!

Fraternities have been impacted by the increase of off-campus housing starts in recent years. The Wentworth's examined their existing house and determined that for them to remain competitive, they needed to upgrade and increase their common amenity space.

In this area, most houses were built in the 1920s and early ’30s, affording a certain unity in design and volume, although many were altered in the post-war years. Most followed one of two architectural styles of the period—Collegiate Tudor/Gothic or Georgian Revival. This property includes a spacious foyer, 5 bedrooms, large bathroom, traditional kitchen, entertainment room, library and a casual living and dinning room. Th backyard also accommodates for a pool and deck for outdoor cooking. While majority of the features have been maintained by the Wentworth's, each student is more than free to decorate their own spaces as they see fit.

Would also like to say thank you to @alexissimsblog for her idea and name!

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders convenience ONLY.

Laundry Day, High School Years, Discover University and Bust the Dust kit required for items I have included from the game, CC as well as some recolors included in the folder (function as a frat house).

There are CC items which are not included- please download these separately!

Utopya- Pool table

Bbygyal123- Martini, corkboard

Joyce- Simple living (all), Forever autumn (all), Summer garden (all)

Sixam- Home office (all), Private school (all), Lavant bathroom (all), Rustin Art studio (all), Home improvement (all)

AFS- all (alcohol décor)

Taurus Design- Judith living room (all)

Harrie- Coastal (all), Country (all), Spoons (all), Octave (all), Brownstone (all), Shop the look (all), Halycon (all), Kichen 2.0 (all), Orjanic (all)

House of Harlix- Jardane (all), Livin Rum, Harluxe (all), Baysic (all)

Felixandre- Grove (all), Colonial (all), Goth revival (all), Berlin (all), Florence (all), Shop the look (all), Chateau (all), Georgian (all), Fayun (terrain), Soho (all), Paris (all)

Valia- Baker's collection (all)

Tuds- Cross (all), Ind (all), NCTR (all)

Awingedllama - Boho living

CharlyPancakes- Sleepyhead (all), Soak (all), Smol (all), Lighthouse (all), Lavish (all)

Myshunosun- Art room (all),Garden stories Patio (all), Simmify Guitar, Dawn living

Max20- Garden at home, Southern Bedroom

Peacemaker- Hinterlands (all), Hudson bathroom (all)

Pierisim- Stefan (all), Tidying up (all), Pantry Party (all), Domaine Du Clos (all), MCM (all), Coldbrew (all), Auntie Vera Bathroom (all), Oak house (all), Woodland Ranch (all), Combles (all), David's apartment (all), Winter Garden (all), Unfold (all), The office (all), Outside (all), Precious Promise (all)

SYB- Highschool (all), Cheap & Chipped (all), Alaferme (all), Happy Stairways (all), Oh la la (all), Loce is in the air (all), Attic (all), Painter Studio (all), Plouf (all), Loft (all), Life Bathroom

Dust Bunny- Laundry (all)

ClassicPixels -Ralph Lauren Throw pillows

Lilli's Place- Folklore (all)

MROLKAN- Pool recolours

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Brindleton Bay (40x40 lot)

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Patreon)

[aventurineswife]

I've been consuming too much TAWOG recently (btw I heard a new season is coming out AAAA (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)) and sometimes when I think of a scenario between shepherd!reader interacting with other characters, especially Caelus, I try to incorporate comedic elements similar to that show

For example, imagine her and Caelus in a situation where one of them has to reach something high. Caelus goes, “it's too far up. We gotta do something to reach it.” He snaps his fingers and smiles mischievously at her. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

Reader nods with a smile of her own, one that appears excited, and waits for further instruction from him. 

Then, the scene cuts to Caelus struggling to balance himself on her shoulders while reader just stares down in exasperation. “Well… This is anticlimactic.”

Or, or— a scene where she and a few other characters are engaging in a fight, but she doesn't have her lyre with her so she frantically makes this revelation known to the rest of the team. Caelus just groans and magically tosses a guitar at her. “It's a stringed instrument! Same thing!”

She huffs indignantly. “Of course it's not! Have you ever seen anyone provide battle support for their team with a guitar? That's so lame and uncool! At least, give me an electric guitar!”

“Just play it!” He barks back. 

Left with no other option, reader adjusts the instrument in her hands, grumbling under her breath all the while, and begins to strum an all too familiar chord. Before anyone can confront her, she's already singing out: “MAYBEEE YOU'RE GONNA BE THE ONE THAT SAVES MEEE��”

I've mentioned before that her powers include being able to open up a tear in space to summon her beasts. When I think of her utilizing this power for mobility, I always picture her just tearing up a portal and next thing you know, she suddenly comes out from underneath the table. Just picture a crowd of wealthy socialites in Penacony gathering at a table then all of a sudden, screams erupt as she crawls out from under the table, muttering frantic, sheepish apologies. Or an AE member needing her presence at once, then next thing they know, a knock comes from the unused storage room beside them with her voice meekly calling out for help. “I wanted to make a cool entrance. Unfortunately, I didn't think this through.” The worst extent this random warping has got her was when she accidentally opened a portal leading down a flight of stairs, but like mid way. So, she gets out, her feet lands on uneven flooring, and down she rolls. No bones were damaged, but her dignity did. 

Another thing I thought of is when she crash lands into Amphoreus alongside Dan Heng and Caelus and is introduced to the Chrysos Heir. Phainon and Tribbie guide them around the city and then bring them to the public bath. When she hears this, her first thought is that it's a place where people take baths. Like, full-fledged baths people regularly take in bathrooms when they start the day. So, she refuses politely. The two Chrysos Heirs don't really understand where her reluctance comes from so they chalk it off as her being shy/nervous, given what had happened to her and the other two. Phainon consoles her by saying that everyone is welcomed there, and that he and Tribbie will ensure they are comfortable and well. She still refuses and it ends up with Phainon gently pushing her forward, to the point where she abandons all propriety and screams. 

“No! NO! NOOOOO! NOOO MY EYES MY EYES MY—! Oh.” She is greeted with the sight of people fully clothed and instantly calms down. 

Caelus had to explain her distress outright to the two. Phainon looks at her with this amused yet remorseful smile and apologizes for not clarifying. 

To cut this short, I'll just end with one last scenario, one of a better future with all the Chrysos Heirs happy and present :”) 

So, just imagine that the planetary crisis has been taken care of and everyone is celebrating their victory in the private bath quarters exclusively for them. Caelus and Dan Heng are already inside the water, while she's just sitting on the edge, her face unsure. Tribbie urges her to jump in, followed by Phainon and Castorice. Then, Aglaea tells her, “cast away all your reservations. We are companions here. There is no need to be embarrassed. Please, enjoy yourselves.”

Huge mistake. Reader jumps in shortly after, exclaiming “cannon ball!” which earns her multiple worried shouts from everyone since the water is shallow. Then, she proceeds to hold a contest with everyone to see who can hold their breath the longest AND who can best imitate a drowned corpse. Everyone has fun conversing and playfully splashing each other, and then you have the reader's body just randomly floating around in the middle of the crowd, her face submerged in the water. Whenever anyone asks what she's doing, Dan Heng just sighs and goes, “she's still holding her breath.” Hyacine asks if she's okay; Dan Heng shakes his head somberly. A chimera (I'm thinking Bubbles for this situation) joins in on the grand bath and is cutely swimming around, when reader invites him to do a competition to see who could get to the other side quicker. When the countdown reaches 1, she stands up and rushes out of the bath then jogs carefully all the way to the end. Bubbles is one step away from committing violence because of this. A bit later, she simmers down and ends up idly chatting with Caelus and a few other heirs when he suddenly yells, “Mydei, reader said she likes your abs!” Reader shrieks, mortified. “NOOO! I ONLY SAID THAT HE WAS HANDSOME!” In retaliation, she adds, “Caelus farted!” 

At some point later, she has this plan to surprise Dan Heng by creeping up on him so she submerges her body in the water. From there, she approaches his unsuspecting body from behind. The thing is, Phainon and Mydei are nearby and both of them take notice of her—not wanting to ruin her fun, they keep quiet. However, being the more mischievous one of the two, Phainon has his own idea to catch her off guard. He abruptly slides in front of her, intending to stop her by surprise. The thing is, reader is approaching Dan Heng in an amphibious manner with her legs propelling her forward so when Phainon suddenly does that, it puts her in an awkward position where she has to suddenly stop dead in her tracks before her face makes any unwanted collision. She stands up with reddened cheeks and scurries away after the close call, causing Phainon to howl with laughter. 

Also, a little bit of “I'm just a girl” moment sprinkled here, she fawns over every single man there, especially the guards/Kremnoans. She's someone who upholds respect in everything that she does, but even she has her moments where half-naked men render her speechless and blushing. Though with Mydei, she was intimidated by him at first. Insert that one puppet monkey meme looking away nervously ← her anytime she's close to Mydei or he's speaking to her. Going back to the bath scene, Mydei and Phainon at some point sat on each side next to her and she ends up sitting straight with her eyes trained ahead. The Deliverer first, sliding in casually beside her with the usual grin he wore. She greeted him with the same amount of friendliness. Then, the crowned prince took a seat on her other side, and her smile stiffened. She was left with no other direction to look but up and ahead.

I also watched a few clips of Ted on youtube and honestly, vulgarities aside, I can definitely see reader and Caelus' dynamic mirroring Ted and John's. I'll send you more of these random moments if I think of anything else XD

Have a good day! o(￣▽￣)ｄ✧

PLEASE. I am LIVING for this chaotic sitcom-gilded space opera you've created.

The way you mix world-shaking lore with the kind of absolute gremlin energy that belongs in a Gumball-meets-Star Rail-meets-slice-of-life-but-in-space show is just chef's kiss perfection. Shepherd!Reader is unhinged in the most sacred of ways, and her dynamic with Caelus? That’s not just friendship, that’s soul-bound clownery. That’s two people operating on “shared brain cell, divided custody” terms.

And her random teleportation mishaps? Under the table?? Knocking on the wrong closet door?? ROLLING DOWN THE STAIRS?? I nearly ascended. She’s not just a Shepherd—she’s an intergalactic embarrassment speedrunner. But we love her. The universe needs her. She needs a helmet.

AND THE BATH SCENE?? I was cackling at “NOOO MY EYES—oh.” That’s peak sitcom delivery. The image of Reader just floating like a suspicious corpse in a celebratory bath while everyone else is trying to have meaningful bonding time has me wheezing. Dan Heng’s resigned “She’s still holding her breath,” sent me straight into the void.

Then: Bubbles nearly committing murder. Reader ratting out Caelus mid-deflection. The dead stop underwater collision avoidance maneuver when Phainon throws himself in front of her like a mischievous lifeguard. And of course—her dignity getting KO’d by bare abs and Kremnoan muscle walls. That puppet monkey meme is officially her emotional support image.

Reader is all of us if we were thrown into a magical universe with trauma, ancient beasts, immortal himbos, and absolutely no training or emotional restraint. She's not surviving—she’s thriving with slapstick flair and a dumb plan. Iconic.

[hsslilly-blog]

🐑🎻St. Margaret Mary's Annual Student Recital: Ms. Blair Stewart, May 11th, 2012

Blair and their violin! This is the last recital from their former school they took part in before they moved to the United States, a year later. They performed the original piece they had spent the year composing.

I really wanted Blair playing an instrument for Blair Week, and I also wanted to talk a little about their life in their former school/prior to Berry High. At first I planned drawing Blair playing the piano, but since I placed this after Colin's death I thought it'd be nice to see them with their violin. You also get a look at the comment section.

Blair's former school, St. Margaret Mary's Secondary School, was a private catholic institution located in Glasgow, Scotland. It stood out for its academics, but Blair got into it specifically for their musical programme (via an audition + an admission exam). For that reason, their scholarship heavily relied on their performance in music classes + the school's orchestra.

In addition to their main studies, Blair received instruction on a solo instrument (in their case, the violin; though they also practised the piano, the guitar, and had lessons on the flute); and on ear training, chorus, composition, jazz, singing, and more. Since the school was a catholic institution, it was associated with Glasgow's St. Margaret Mary Church and all pupils were either instrumentalists or choristers there. Blair was in the choir, and they enjoyed it a lot!

Blair generally liked studying at St. Margaret Mary's and they kept to themself for the most part. Although they had a hard time connecting to people, they made three friends: Moira Stirling (their best friend), Aiden Douglass, and Amelia McKinley. I offer you this old (2021) doodle of the three of them:

As I've shared on yesterday's post, Blair stopped talking after Colin passed away. This, plus the overall trauma of the entire situation, greatly affected Blair's performance in school. Music also stopped being pleasurable for them. They started being bullied in school for their scars (plural, because after the accident they had many) and for having a dead brother. And an alcoholic father. And an absent mother. And for not speaking, and for the holes in their clothes, and for failing their classes.

In regards to failing their classes: in 2013, Blair is allowed to finish the school year, but their grades are too low to graduate in May. They are then asked to leave the school due to their poor academic performance + intermittent attendance. This crushed Blair, as they had been planning their future for a very long time, but they soon received the news from their mother they were moving to the United States. So maybe they could try again.

Here's the full thumbnail! I really liked this one, but I don't think I'm ever drawing a violin again:

As a bonus, here's an old portrait of Blair in their St. Margaret Mary's uniform. This is from 2021, and it's meant to represent Blair in 2012:

[lapinauxfraises]

Gepard Landau (character study? Character description? I'm certainly talking about Gepard though.)

I honestly believe Gepard has one of the best potentials out of any Belobog character, which is quite sad, as he is and probably never will be explored fully. From “his”companion mission to the main storylines, Gepard is mostly a background character with a surprising lot of characterisation scattered across multiple small bits of information about him.

Gepard’s main focus of character is how duty-bound he is. While being a conscious choice (See Lynx Character story IV), Gepard seems to have feelings of self-doubt and regret over his job as a Silvermane guard. He often is described to wonder if that mission of protection he fights everyday is not a fruitless endeavor, a bloodshed he’s unable to stop even when all of his efforts are put into it. His medals he carries are heavy with the guilt and the souls of the soldiers he’s lost while on the frontlines, he describes this feeling by thinking “How many of his comrades' lives had been exchanged for such a glorious medal?”. Yet, Gepard does not think of this, he does not think of the losses at all, he was instructed not to and for those orders he will fall. Cocolia has instructed Gepard when he first integrated the Silvermane Guards — and we can assume she did it to more guards as at the time Gepard was a mere private at the time — to never overthink because "Doubt breeds arrogance, and doubt breeds evil. As a model for Belobog, you shouldn't overthink." Gepard’s very ideals run on the idea that he should not overthink, should not think what his losses are for, should not overthink the future of belobog, should not overthink if the impact he does to preserve and protect will ever make a difference in the future. Gepard keeps going, blindly.

As you know I’m a sucker for characters whose lives are built around the orders of higher figures, that without them fall powerless, hopeless. Think about it! If Gepard is to think and rebel against his orders, or let go/be let go of his ranks in the Silvermane Guards, what is he to do? It is easily that Gepard would fall into despair, his whole life he has strived to protect the city of Belobog, without that he is forced to bear the meaningless losses all because of Madam Cocolia — who is a terrible leader when it comes to military positioning, Pela has expressed her disdain of her orders in the past for how many soldiers it has killed — as well as the fact that now, without anybody to rule him around, he has to completely change his lifestyle and be his own person.

(note I couldn’t find a good transition to; Gepard’s oath is to specifically take care of Belobog, while he is very blinded by the Guardian’s words, he is to defy her if the need arises and Belobog’s safety is at stake. As we have seen from the story though, even if those orders put Belobog at risk, it’s difficult for Gepard to ever notice that.)

Gepard is very dependable of other people when it comes to his personal life, he needs Serval to keep Earthwork (his shield) in check, he needs Pela to look after his flowers, I can’t imagine a change in his lifestyle being the easiest for him. Buuuut that brings me to my next note-worthy bit of information about Gepard. Lil brother is an absolute mess when it comes to his personal life, he looks and expresses interest in music (earthwork being a guitar case, his idle animation, his mentions of, regardless of being a little unnaproving of Serval’s career, he still sing her songs, even when he’s at work) as well as gardening, even though he’s reportedly terrible at both.

Another note-worthy topic is how Gepard’s relationship with his sisters is depicted. He is not disappointed, much less displeased with their lifestyle, merely he is worried. All his talks about their lifestyles always come from a place of worry, he in fact does indulge in their careers (such as by gifting Lynx a snowboard, in secret, before Serval blew it) but wishes they would do it less recklessly. Serval and him seem to agree on that when it comes to Lynx.

Surprisingly, Gepard is not serious and stoic and worried all the time, there are reported instances where Gepard partakes, perhaps even leads games and competitions within the rowdy Silvermane Guards, such as what is described by the Seering Steel Blade item (level up item) which describes Gepard taking on a monster hunting competition against his own men, using it’s very body part to kill said monster.

Nowhere it is described that Gepard was forced into his position for the Landau family, but assuming such position meant not to ruin their name, which he is constantly reminded throughout his life. In Landau’s choice, their parent (assumedly) berates Gepard for merely talking to a “commoner” not only giving out the Landaus’ wealthy state, but also giving their name quite the background of arrogant people who don’t mingle with those below them, much less those below the surface. None of the siblings seem to have grown into this mindset however.

Perhaps due to the Landau name, perhaps something else, but Gepard’s actions seem not to resonate with some of his soldiers, specifically younger and/or new ones, they have a view of Gepard that frames him as a scoundrel, a bastard. Reasons are unknown, some I personally theorise stem from Landau stigma or implying that the captain is a lot more strict when the matter is his army, or perhaps even his cold exterior when the army faces deaths almost daily when at war with the fragmentum, showing no remorse or emotion, even when we know that is not true, a leader must now show those weaknesses to their people.

Sources: Gepard, Lynx and Serval's character stories, Belobog readables, Landau's choice (lightcone), Seering Steel Blade (item), Silvermane medal (item)

[spardhaschool]

10 bollywood songs to groove on this ganesh chaturthi | Spardha School Of Music

Dance your way through Ganesh Chaturthi with Spardha School of Music's top 10 Bollywood songs. These vibrant tracks will keep you in the festive spirit and make your celebration unforgettable https://www.spardhaschoolofmusic.com/blog/10-bollywood-songs-to-groove-on-this-ganesh-chaturthi-2

Ganesh Chaturthi is celebrated as the birthday of Lord Ganesha, known as the Lord of Beginnings. According to Hindu mythology, Lord Shiva blessed Ganesha and instructed devotees to worship him before any other god or before starting anything new. This is why, in India, people often say the phrase "Shree Ganesh" before beginning an activity, as it represents positivity and asks for his blessings.

History: Becoming a Mass Festival

Ganesh Chaturthi is celebrated across India, but the way it's celebrated in Maharashtra is unique. Originally, it was not a major tradition in Maharashtra until the Maratha period. It was a private affair until freedom fighter Bal Gangadhar Tilak transformed it into a public event to unite people against British rule. Tilak reinvented Ganesh Chaturthi in 1893, turning it from a family celebration into a large public festival, promoting national unity.

Rituals & Meaning

Ganesh Chaturthi begins with the installation of Lord Ganesha's clay idols (murtis) in homes and public spaces called pandals (decorative tents) and lasts for 11 days. For the next 10 days, the idol is worshipped, an aarti is sung every evening, followed by other cultural events. People also offer Modak, a sweet dish made with coconut and jaggery, believed to be Lord Ganesha’s favourite food.

The festival concludes on the 11th day with Anant Chaturdashi (Ganesh Visarjan), a grand farewell ceremony where the idols are carried to local rivers, oceans, or other water bodies, along with celebrations filled with dance, music, and a lot of joy and enthusiasm. Meanwhile, people pray for Lord Ganesha’s early return the following year by chanting "Ganpati Bappa Morya, Agle Baras Tu Jaldi Aa" which means "Come soon next year."

The act of immersion represents the circle of life as the idols dissolve in the water. It signifies that the universe is in a constant state of change and that eventually, everything returns to formlessness.

More than just a festival, Ganesh Chaturthi is also a social and community event that brings people together to sing, dance, and pray. To add an extra spark to your celebrations, here is a perfect playlist of 10 songs for this Ganesh Chaturthi:

1. Deva Shree Ganesha | Agneepath | 2012

This energetic song celebrates Lord Ganesha’s greatness. Its grand melody and lively rhythm highlight how having Lord Ganesha in your heart gives you strength and helps you overcome challenges. Learn to dance with your friends for extra fun while welcoming Lord Ganesha.

2. Shendur Laal Chadhayo | Vaastav | 1999

This devotional song is a traditional Sanskrit aarti dedicated to Lord Ganesha. The simple melody and lyrics express deep respect, praising him as the powerful remover of obstacles who grants joy and wisdom. Learn to play this on the keyboard for the evening aarti to express your devotion to Lord Ganesha.

3. Sadda Dil Vi Tu | ABCD | 2013

This upbeat song celebrates Lord Ganesha as the bringer of joy and blessings. With its energetic rhythm and catchy melody, it’s perfect for dancing. Learn the dance steps for this song and spread the festive joy.

4. Shree Ganeshay Dheemahi | Viruddh | 2005

This sacred song is based on an ancient Sanskrit hymn that highlights Lord Ganesha's importance in various aspects of life, including music, wisdom, and guidance. Learn to play it on the guitar and get everyone chanting along this Ganesh Chaturthi.

5. O My Friend Ganesha | My Friend Ganesha | 2007

This nostalgic song celebrates Lord Ganesha as a beloved friend. Its soothing melody and lyrics express a deep wish for Lord Ganesha to always be a friend and a source of joy. Learn to sing this song on the ukulele and share it with friends to bring back happy childhood memories.

6. Hey Ganaraya | ABCD 2 | 2015

This dynamic song stands out with its unique blend of Indian classical beats and notes, combining devotional lyrics with complex rhythms, making it both spiritually uplifting and rhythmically engaging. Learn to dance to this song and lose yourself in the festive spirit.

7. Gajanana | Bajirao Mastani | 2015

This powerful song celebrates Lord Ganesha's strength and qualities. The lively rhythm and grand melody highlight his role as the remover of obstacles and giver of joy. Learn the dance moves to this song to have even more fun at the occasion.

8. Deva Ho Deva | Humse Badhkar Kaun | 1981

This cult song praises Lord Ganesha’s supreme power and the unique blessings he gives to his devotees. The catchy melody and lively beat make it perfect for a Ganesh Chaturthi playlist. Learn to play it on the guitar and enjoy this festival.

9. Shambhu Sutaya | ABCD | 2013

This uplifting song celebrates Lord Ganesha’s arrival as a source of prosperity, progress, and joy. The lyrics express a strong desire to always keep him in sight. Learn to move along with this song to add extra energy to your celebration.

10. Mourya Re | Don | 2006

This vibrant song highlights the importance of Lord Ganesha’s presence for peace and joy in life. The lyrics express a deep desire for Ganesha’s return and blessings. Learn the dance steps to this song to add a burst of energy and give Lord Ganesha a memorable farewell on Anant Chaturdashi.

May Lord Ganesha bless you and your family with prosperity and wisdom. As you enjoy this Ganesh Chaturthi, don’t forget to add these must-have songs to your playlist. Learn to sing, dance, and chant along with everyone...

Ganpati Bappa Morya!!!

[niallerspayno]

We’ll Be Alright - Chapter Sixteen

Masterlist

The next morning, you walk into the stadium for soundcheck with a knot already forming in your stomach. The venue feels cavernous, every sound magnified and echoing as the crew bustles around, checking levels, adjusting equipment, and yelling instructions over the hum of activity. But despite the energy, the tension between you, Liam, and Niall presses down on you like a thick fog.

You sling your guitar over your shoulder and take your place on stage, your nerves heightened with every glance exchanged—or avoided. Liam is focused on his mic stand, his expression unreadable, while Niall strums absently at his guitar, his fingers faltering over the strings as though his mind is elsewhere.

You begin the first song, your voice trembling as you sing your part. The melody falters when Niall misses a chord, and Liam’s timing is off. You try again, pushing through, but the energy is wrong. By the third restart, Louis slams his water bottle onto the ground and storms to the center of the stage.

“Alright, stop!” he shouts, throwing his arms up like a frustrated referee. “What the hell is going on? Do you lot need a group hug? A bloody intervention? Because this”—he gestures wildly to the three of you—“is absolute shite!”

“I’m fine,” Niall mutters, not meeting anyone’s gaze as he adjusts his guitar strap.

“Yeah, me too,” Liam adds sharply, his tone clipped as he keeps his focus on the mic stand.

Louis narrows his eyes at you next. “And you? Are you going to tell me you’re fine too?”

Your throat tightens, and you quickly nod. “I’m fine,” you manage to say, though the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No, you’re not,” Louis snaps, his tone cutting. “None of you are. And we’ve got a bloody concert tonight. So whatever’s going on here, sort it out. Now.”

The weight of his words lingers as the crew awkwardly resumes their work. When the break is finally called, you barely have time to collect your thoughts before Louis corners you backstage, his eyes blazing with determination.

“Alright, spill,” he demands, his voice low but no less forceful. “This mess with Liam and Niall? It’s got to stop. I don’t care how you do it—talk it out, scream, write each other bloody sonnets—but fix it. They’re my mates, and I can’t stand seeing them like this. And neither can you.”

You swallow hard, guilt twisting in your chest. “I know, Louis,” you whisper. “I’ll talk to them. I just…” You trail off, the words dying in your throat. How can you explain the storm of emotions you haven’t even begun to untangle yourself?

Louis softens slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Just be honest with them, yeah? They deserve that. And so do you.”

...

After soundcheck, you find yourself on the rooftop of the hotel, seeking air and clarity in the crisp breeze. The city stretches out before you, glittering under the soft hues of early evening, but the view barely registers. Your thoughts are too tangled, your heart too heavy.

You pause when you spot Liam and Niall seated at a small patio table near the edge of the terrace. They’re on opposite sides, their postures reflecting the unspoken tension that lingers between them. Liam sits upright, his hands folded neatly on the table, while Niall leans back, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the armrest of his chair.

For a moment, you hesitate. The scene feels private, like a space you’re intruding on. But then Liam looks up and sees you, his expression softening as he nods toward the empty chair between them.

“Hey,” he says gently. “We were just talking. You should join us.”

You sit down, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. The silence is thick, and your hands fidget with the hem of your sweater as you search for the right words.

“I wanted to clear the air,” Liam says after a long pause, his gaze steady on Niall. “We can’t let this come between us. We’re bandmates. Brothers.”

Niall looks down at his hands, his jaw tightening. “I know,” he says quietly. “I don’t want it to, either. But it’s not that simple, is it?” His voice is low, laced with frustration and something deeper.

You glance between them, your heart aching at the weight of their unspoken emotions. “It’s complicated for me too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to cause tension between any of you.”

“No one’s blaming you,” Liam says firmly, his tone reassuring. “We get it. This… whirlwind we’re in? It’s a lot. For all of us.” He pauses, exhaling deeply. “But we need to figure out how to handle this without losing what we have.”

Niall nods, though his gaze flicks away as if the words are harder to accept than he wants to admit. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “It’s not your fault. I just…” He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not great at letting things go. Especially when it comes to how I feel.”

His honesty catches you off guard, and for a moment, the tension shifts. There’s a rawness between the three of you now, fragile but undeniable.

“I think we just need to be honest,” Liam says, breaking the silence. “With ourselves and each other. That’s the only way we’re going to get through this.”

Niall’s gaze meets yours, softer now, though his expression still holds traces of vulnerability. “And we’ll give you the space you need to figure things out,” he says, his voice steady but gentle.

Your chest tightens, emotion welling up as you nod. “Thank you,” you whisper. “I just… I need time.”

They both nod, and for the first time in days, the tension eases, the weight lifting just slightly. It’s not perfect—there’s still so much left unresolved—but it feels like a beginning. For now, that’s enough.

...

The stage lights blaze down, blinding you to everything except the glow of the spotlight and the vast, roaring crowd stretching into the darkness. Your fingers tremble as they grip the microphone, your pulse a steady drumbeat in your chest, loud enough to drown out the noise—almost. Behind you, the band takes their places, the air between you all charged with an unspoken tension.

This is the moment. The song you poured your heart into, the one you’ve only dared to share with the boys, is about to meet the world.

The first chords strike, soft and tentative, and you draw in a shaky breath. The audience begins to quiet, sensing the shift in energy. You close your eyes, letting the weight of the moment steady you.

“This is a new one,” you say into the mic, your voice wavering but determined. “I wrote it recently, and it’s… personal. I hope you like it.”

Encouraging cheers ripple through the crowd, but your focus is pinned elsewhere. Liam stands off to your left, his expression calm but intent, giving you a small nod of reassurance. Niall is closer, his blue eyes trained on you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

You start to sing, your voice low and raw, carrying the weight of the emotions you’ve been wrestling with for weeks.

“Caught between the light and shadow, Two paths that pull me through. One feels safe, the other’s wild, And I don’t know what to do.”

The words spill out, unfiltered and painfully honest. Each line feels like a confession, and the tension from behind you—the boys—practically radiates forward, palpable even through the roar of the crowd.

Your eyes flutter open as you near the chorus, and for a fleeting second, you meet Niall’s gaze. His lips press into a thin line, his hands motionless on the strings of his guitar as if he’s forgotten to breathe. Liam, by contrast, holds steady, his presence grounding even as a faint shadow of something unreadable passes across his face.

By the bridge, your voice wavers, a crack slipping through. To the audience, it’s raw emotion, perfectly suited to the song. To you, it’s the weight of laying bare a piece of your soul. The final note rings out, a delicate echo that hangs in the air before the crowd erupts into applause so loud it feels like it could crack the sky.

But behind you, the tension is heavier than ever.

...

Later in the set, you slip offstage for a moment to grab some water, grateful for the chance to breathe. The adrenaline is still coursing through you, your emotions a tangled mess as you try to shake off the vulnerability of performing that song.

Then you hear the familiar opening chords of Little Things. You turn, startled, to see Niall stepping into the spotlight, his acoustic guitar cradled against him.

“This one’s for someone special,” he says, his Irish lilt soft but clear. The crowd screams, but your heart stutters. He doesn’t look at you, but the weight of his words lands squarely in your chest.

As the song begins, his voice pours into the stadium, warm and tender, each lyric steeped in intimacy. It feels like a confession wrapped in melody, and you know the audience feels it too. The cheers soften into a reverent hush, the moment crackling with unspoken meaning.

Halfway through the song, Niall turns slightly, his eyes finally finding yours. “C’mon,” he says into the mic, his grin wide but gentle. He gestures toward the stage, and the crowd goes wild.

Your feet hesitate, nerves locking you in place for a beat too long. But then, somehow, you’re moving, stepping back into the light. The noise of the crowd is deafening as you reach for the mic, your gaze flickering to Liam. His expression is calm, unreadable, but there’s no anger there, only quiet acceptance.

Niall strums the chords again, nodding as you take your cue. When you start to sing, your voice feels shaky, but then Niall joins in, his voice blending with yours effortlessly. The harmony builds, tender and intimate, and for a few fleeting minutes, the world melts away. It’s just the two of you, your voices weaving together like threads of the same fabric.

When the song ends, the cheers are deafening, a wave of sound that crashes over you. You glance at Niall, unable to help yourself, and find him smiling at you—not the cheeky grin you’re used to, but something softer, almost shy.

The moment is brief, fleeting, but it settles deep in your chest, leaving a mark you know you won’t forget.

...

The restaurant is a stark contrast to the chaos of the concert, the dim lighting and cozy atmosphere wrapping you in a sense of quiet. The roar of the crowd is a distant memory now, replaced by the gentle hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery. The band insisted on dinner together to celebrate, and now, here you are, sandwiched between Liam and Niall in the corner of the booth.

Louis is at the head of the table, already ordering for half the group. “We’ll take all the appetizers,” he says with his trademark grin, directing it at the waiter. “Yes, all of them.”

Harry and Zayn laugh, shaking their heads, while Liam rolls his eyes good-naturedly, the faintest smile on his lips.

Plates of food start arriving, the table quickly filling with an array of colors and smells. But it’s not the food that has your attention—it’s the proximity of Liam and Niall. They’re both so close, their energy filling the space between you. Liam’s arm brushes yours every time he leans forward to grab something from the table. His warmth is a quiet comfort, grounding you in a way you can’t explain. On your other side, Niall is just as close, his laughter easy and genuine every time Louis cracks one of his jokes.

You try to keep your focus on the conversation, but the closeness of both men has your thoughts scattering. You feel the way they both slip into your space without even realizing it—Liam with his steady calm and Niall with his infectious energy.

At one point, Liam leans in, his voice low and smooth as he asks, “You doing okay?”

You turn to him, startled by the sincerity in his voice. You can’t help but smile softly. “Yeah. It’s been a good night,” you reply, the words light but carrying more weight than you intend.

His brown eyes hold yours, steady and warm. He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

But before you can settle back into the moment, Niall leans closer from the other side, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he whispers, “You’ve got to try the dessert Louis ordered. I think he picked it just because it has whiskey in it.”

You laugh, the sound coming easier than you expect. “Of course he did.”

Louis overhears and grins, raising his glass to you both. “You’re welcome,” he says, his voice playful, almost daring.

For a brief moment, you let yourself get lost in the warmth of the laughter and the easy camaraderie around the table. But beneath the surface, you feel it—the subtle tension between Liam and Niall. They’re both careful, their gestures restrained, their words measured, but it’s impossible not to feel the weight of everything that’s been left unsaid.

Your heart tightens, and you try to push the feelings back, not wanting to let them take hold. But no matter how much you want to enjoy this moment, you know that it’s impossible to escape the reality that looms just beneath the surface. You don’t want to hurt either of them, but every passing second only seems to make your choice harder.

By the time you leave the restaurant, your heart feels heavy—not with regret, but with a quiet ache, a longing for clarity you know you won’t find easily. The band has been a bright spot in all this chaos, and you’re grateful for them, for this sense of belonging. But as you step out into the cool night air, you can’t ignore the truth any longer: the path ahead is only becoming more complicated, and the decision you’ll have to make is still nowhere near simple.

Next chapter

[alarrytale]

Hi! How do you read the line the snuts recently have said about Louis ‘He’s a good guy. Quite private.’ Do you think he is not open to them and they noticed how he distinctly separates his work and private lives? Or they just don’t want talk much about him cause of nda’s?

Hi, anon!

Full quote:

Talking of being on stage. How close did you get close to Louis Tomlinson?

We’ve done a support tour with Louis Tomlinson, we loved this opportunity. It really gave us a chance to get in front of people we wouldn’t necessarily be in front of in a live environment. It’s a different type of fan, our music translated well towards that. We’ve done tours with him over the past couple of years, we know him well.

He comes up to Glasgow for his shows, and we’ll go and watch football. He’s a good guy. Quite private. It’s funny because he been in the pop world, but deep down his roots are in indie guitar music, that’s what he is making. He’s fun guy to be around, and for us it’s great to see how others do things.

Source

So the question they answered was how close they got to Louis. I don't think they got very close to him, by the sound of this. I don't think he spends too much time around his openers. Louis leads a busy life, has got a lot of people around who probably wants his attention and wants to get to know him. He's got an image to keep up and loads of secrets to keep as well. So i don't think he's the type to freely share stories or information about his private life. It's not only about the NDAs but also loads of sore subjects.

Imagine them all sitting there, having a beer, talking about girlfriends they miss at home, one member's latest hook up in Glasgow, one of them missing their mum, one gets a call from his father. It might lead to questions about his relationship with his "son", or why he hasn't got a girlfriend. I also think Louis is quite shy and don't open up easily until he's gotten to know people well. I don't think he's spent enough time with the Snuts to get to that point of familiarity that Louis trust them with this.

I do think his openers have signed NDAs. However, look how they ended the answer with a clear talking point about Louis "It’s funny because he been in the pop world, but deep down his roots are in indie guitar music, that’s what he is making." This tells me they were either instructed to say this, or they were presented with the laddy curated persona and image of Louis, and not the real Louis. My bet is the latter, but that makes me immensely sad.

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