BTS ARIRANG WORLD TOUR IN JAPAN D 1
26.04.17
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BTS ARIRANG WORLD TOUR IN JAPAN D 1
26.04.17
wtf what an insane pic of jimin. he’s so 80s
Joey’s mom called during the interview
Slender pages
177
BTS COMEBACK 🖤
Mornings with baby daddy Sukuna after giving birth.
Domestic, fluff, suggestive 🍼
Morning with your husband have never been quiet. Not because of noise but because of his presence.
You wake at five a.m., the sky still dark, the world hushed like it’s holding its breath. Your body moves before your mind does, practiced now. Two months postpartum and motherhood has etched routine into your bones. You rise slowly from the bed, the soft cotton of your maxi dress whispering against your legs, hips swaying with that familiar, lingering pregnancy walk you haven’t quite lost yet.
Sukuna’s arm slips from around you. Not because he’s asleep. Because he’s always aware for the love of his life.
You feel his gaze follow you even before you turn back. He’s propped against the headboard, massive frame relaxed but alert, eyes half-lidded and sharp as ever. Seven feet of power contained in bare skin and lazy attention. To the outside world, he’s terror incarnate.
But to you? He’s watching to make sure you don’t strain yourself.
“You’re up,” he says quietly.
The baby stirs in his crib.
Your baby.
Yuji, round, warm, impossibly soft. Pink hair already unruly, cheeks so chubby they strain his little expressions, eyes wide and dark and yours. Sukuna’s genetics stamped him boldly, but those eyes soften everything.
“Morning Suki,” you whisper fondly, brushing a thumb along his cheek.
Sukuna hears it.
His mouth twitches.
He likes that name more than he’ll ever admit. You feed Yuji in the low light, rocking gently. The house smells like milk and sleep and warmth. Sukuna stands nearby, arms crossed, watching like a sentry. His gaze flicks between you and the baby: protective, possessive, something deeper.
“Tch,” he mutters when Yuji fusses louder. “He knows.”
You glance up. “Knows what?”
“Whenever I try to make a move on ya,” Sukuna replies flatly. “I swear this kid’s doing it on purpose.”
You laugh softly.
Jealousy looks strange on the king of curses but with Sukuna, it’s quiet. Controlled. It shows in the way he steps closer, the way his hand settles at your lower back as if grounding himself.
When Yuji finally settles, you return to bed.
Sukuna pulls you in immediately. His arm wraps around your belly. Instinctive, familiar hand spreading wide, thumb moving in slow, circular strokes that say you’re safe, you’re here, I’ve got you. He presses his mouth to your neck, kisses laid there like punctuation.
You sigh.
“You still do that, I’m not pregnant anymore.” you murmur.
“Because it works,” he says simply.
He breathes you in. Deep. Like scent matters. Like you matter.
“You walk the same,” he adds suddenly. You smile faintly. “I do?”
“Yes.” His hand tightens just slightly. “Slow. Careful. Like your body remembers carrying him.”
There’s something reverent in his voice. Pride without words.
“I like it,” he admits.
Morning grows brighter.
Breakfast is domestic chaos done quietly. You sit at the table in oversized pyjamas now because Yuji threw up some milk on your night dress, hair wild, lips still flushed from sleep, skin glowing without effort. Sukuna moves through the kitchen like he’s the best daddy in the world. Garbage taken out. Counter wiped. Bottles warmed. Yuji cradled against his chest with surprising ease.
Anyone who saw him like this wouldn’t believe the stories. Sukuna feeds Yuji with careful focus, watching his tiny mouth, adjusting his grip, murmuring under his breath when milk dribbles down those ridiculous cheeks.
“Greedy,” he mutters affectionately.
Yuji gurgles.
“See?” Sukuna says. “He gets that from me.”
You watch from the doorway, heart full.
Later, you move around the house folding laundry, straightening things, existing in that soft domestic rhythm that still feels unreal sometimes. Sukuna follows you like gravity. Not hovering. Just there.
Every time you pass him, his hand finds you.
Your waist.
Your lower back.
Your belly.
Always grounding. Always claiming.
“You’re in my way,” you tease when he crowds you at the counter.
“I don’t care,” he replies calmly, nudging his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like it’s necessary. “You smell so good and feel so soft. It’s not my fault.”
“Suki,” you sigh. “You’re distracting.”
“Good.”
He presses a kiss just below your ear, lingering. His arms encircle you easily, your smaller frame fitting against him like it was designed that way.
“I love you,” he says suddenly, voice low, unguarded. “You given me everything, woman.”
You lean back into his chest.
Outside, people fear him. They stare when you walk beside him—tiny next to his towering frame, hand lost in his. They see danger.
They don’t see this.
They don’t see how he watches your slow steps.
How he softens when you’re tired.
How he gets jealous of his own son and laughs at himself for it. How he treats you like something precious and earned.
And Sukuna?
He has never been more certain of anything in his life than this:
You.
This home.
This soft, feral, domestic morning are his greatest victories.
Reblogs appreciated 💝
The 3 Sukunas
girldad!geta pleeease!
Filia Divina
Pairing: Emperor Geta x Wife!reader
Tags: childbirth, pregnancy, miscarriage mentioned, implied infanticide, soft!geta (if you squint), historically accurate practices, NOT BETA READ SO IF YOU SEE SOMETHING WONKY NO YOU DIDN’T, good ole fashioned misogyny
AN: Tollere Liberos is in reference to an ancient Roman tradition where a father decides whether or not to accept a newborn as their child. Rejected children were abandoned via ‘expositus’ (aka dead ass just leaving a baby out in the wilderness). So basically girldad!geta but historically accurate lol. Enjoy!
It had only been an hour since you birthed her—a sweet little creature with curls the color of honey and supple skin like the flesh of a ripe plum. With a mighty wail fit to be heard across an empire, she came into the world. Your goddess, Juno, generously granted her the health and strength you prayed for. You rejoiced, though your joy was not shared.
The midwives cleaned your daughter in grave silence, save for the whispers of the politic-men gathered to witness the birth of Rome’s divine son. They huddled together in the far corner of the chamber as your girl laid against her mother’s chest for the first time.
Body wants sex.. Heart wants love.. Soul NEEDS peace .
Lime IG stories 2020
2020.10.26 Lime:
A new camera got released.
I go to the camera shop with my wallet full.
Trying out the actual model.
The shutter sound is like teeth grinding.
My excitement drops.
I quietly leave.
Going for a meal with the president of a certain company, first time in about two years.
He’s lost so much weight, I started to wonder if he’s sick.
The motsunabe was delicious.
Accidentally entered the wrong parking space number and paid a stranger’s parking fee.
An early Merry Christmas to the stranger.
That’s where I’m at right now.
Lime IG stories 2021
2021.08.10 Lime: My first live
2021.08.16 Lime:
Back when I was writing lyrics for someone as a job, I spent a whole week shadowing and interviewing that person. I’m listening to songs from back then.
Strangely, some words shine brighter when they are sung by a human.
Daenerys and Ser Jorah + kiss text scene - Requested by Anonymous
Ser Jorah slid his arms around her.
“Oh,” was all Dany had time to say as he pulled her close and pressed his lips down on hers. He smelled of sweat and salt and leather, and the iron studs on his jerkin dug into her naked breasts as he crushed her hard against him. One hand held her by the shoulder while the other slid down her spine to the small of her back, and her mouth opened for his tongue, thought she never told it to. His beard is scratchy, she thought, but his mouth is sweet. The Dothraki wore no beards, only long moustaches, and only Khal Drogo had ever kissed her before. He should not be doing this. I am his queen, not his woman.
It was a long kiss, though how long Dany could not have said. When it ended, Ser Jorah let go of her, and she took a quick step backward. “You… you should not have…”
“I should not have waited so long,” he finished for her. “I should have kissed you in Qarth. I should have kissed you in the red waste, every night and every day. You were made to be kissed, often and well.” His eyes were in her breasts.
Dany covered them with her hands, before her nipples could betray her. “I… that was not fitting. I am your queen.”
“My queen,” he said, “and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I haver ever seen. Daenerys-”
“Your Grace!”
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