#Hot Dog Men

[dynamitesunshine]

Seeing these guys in UltraSeven was like a fever dream, because they were used in something from Space Ghost lol.

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

��Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[thomashagen]

SONNY WORTZIK | Dog Day Afternoon (1975) dir. Sidney Lumet

[hotarabguys]

[shitswiftiessay]

Are these “glow ups” in the room with us right now??

[sparky-cartfur]

@nekudotexe

I've redrawn it a bit… hot furry boy

[missathlete31]

My Christmas gift came early!

I bought it for the articles obviously….. very passionate about Men’s Health

[k9-zara]

@konttingbaby_zara telegram

[rat-rosemary]

I want to write a fic about Dream moving into a frat mid college for some reason and he has the surgery scars he has and every single time a frat bro sees him without a shirt on their reaction is "Dude, cool scars!! ... is it a trans thing?" "Uh... no, they're like, surgery scars" "Cool cool... you're still going with he/him right? Just to check" "yeah"

[roman-ai]

[hercarisntyours]

she fits right in fr fr <3

[pussysidon]

When I want to not be weird about something but I have literally never been normal about a piece of media in my life

[bradandchris]

Whatever his boyfriend Brad said was fine. It was water under a bridge he's never seen, heard of, or planned to cross, but here's what he had to say as to polls. "Half this country was in an abusive relationship and either didn’t know it, know how to get out, or somehow convinced themselves the situation just didn’t apply to them despite not living in an isolation chamber for eight years."

Chris then noted humans remain capable of reasoning anything and then followed this statement by a renewed call for a better form of thinking. As for the more desirable poles, well...Chris said he "would always take two and never turn down left overs or twins. Yum!"

Before his boyfriend could react to the raunch, Chris took ownership readily admitting his suggested sexual antics rang to him "a bit old school Christina Aquilaria," meaning it was both hot and dirty minus a few 'r's' of course.

The fact was the two were at a pool party in WeHo where every beautiful man in Los Angeles was in a Speedo or something of equally negligible coverage so Chris naturally assumed "between PREP, chlorine, and whatever part of the spectrum of sunlight that killed microbes and such, this was essentially the definition of a very well calculated risk."

Leaving no space once again for Brad, Chris went on to mansplain "in reality it was hot partially because it was summer. There was also this whole climate change thing going on," but then switched gears saying the leftovers and twins thing being so hot mostly stemmed from a softcore he watched when he was 16 titled “The Grill” that followed the sexcapades of a men’s college swim team while attending their coach’s off season summer bbq.

The early 80’s flick was considered edgy in its day apparently because the coaches wife was away on a business trip leaving the boys to fend for themselves. Chris was quick to point out tho the viewers never learn what kind of business she was in. He assumed it was advertising as that’s what the lead lady in the flick “Mr Mom” did. That both films were coincidentally released the same year carried enough weight to take the one hole in the softcore Chris didn’t want right off the table.

Seeing himself in full truthing mode, Chris then physically reached into thin air, pretended to grab something, then did the gay ‘z’ snap as he declared the shenanigans at the pool party "not actually dirty, but dirty adjacent due to all the precautions both manufactured and natural taken by the parties attendees.”

It was then Brad finally dove in the poll/pole conversation he started but largely failed to participate in with a sharp "True." Everyone attending the event already knew not to bring up the responsibility already taken at the party itself as it defeated the purpose. They were there for a good time and much of that was indulging themselves in the wild care-free fantasy. If someone was stupid enough to show up knowingly with something that wasn't theirs that's another tomb-sized plot of real estate for dancing upon in recognition of this person's immediate social death.

Vengeance hardly ended there. The reprise occurred at this persons physical death pending anyone knowledgeable of the event outlives this person. 99% of the time they did as for whatever reason vengeance keeps people alive until it's achieved. At that point, you’re as good as dead yourself.

That last part never appealed to Brad or Chris so they chose the sweeter slow release option of dancing nearly naked while high as a kite once or twice a month. It werked a lot of negative energy out though it admittedly invited some wonky back in. No transformation of energy was ever perfect or completely clean. Oddly this was never really spoken to across the board from the underground gays all the way through to mainstream society and then some.

The spiritual death or the parting of this person's soul were also celebrated but occurred less frequently. It largely applied to those in the deepest of the deep usually either claiming hetero and/or some sort of divinity. Ironically, few of them had souls or any sign of spirit hence the small numbers. They either never had them in the first place or they were already goners by the time the gays got to them. Regardless, the offenders helped keep the dancefloors packed in the after-after-afterhours which was a very twisted way to say sometime between 8am and noon the following day.

Brad went on to say "they were all reasons to dance and do drugs. Taking responsibility certainly granted its freedoms but no matter the situation or level of involvement, people will always cross lines. It's how anyone knows where they are. Once they are established, you’re either stupid or a hero for crossing them." Brad paused for a few seconds of self reflection. "We jump on that ship so quickly when on the sidelines don’t we?”

Chris dove back in the chat with his own sharp "True.” Then a two second pause followed by another “True. And True.” He then pointed out for the sect of the gay spectrum this notion did apply to inclusive of themselves, jumping on the revenge train for the anti gays felt not too dissimilar in concept to the whole 'I'll do anything for science' phenomenon.

Chris looked to his right giving a facial expression as if pulling files in his head. “It was weird to see that go off the deep end in recent years. Science that is. How did the entire field of academics and study just not make the dinosaur/bird connection until just now? Ummmm. Ooops. We took the dinosaurs extinction as this grand dramatic exit for hundreds of years."

Chris paused for Brad's acknowledgement smirk as he knew that was a zinger. It also gave him just enough time to conjure up another to wrap this conversation up. Chris was horny and could see a platter of hot dogs floating their way. He nodded to Brad who turned to see, then motioned the tray boy to stay on course to them. When his boyfriend turned back his way, Chris could see Brad's excitement matched his own.

Chris let out and unrehearsed “nice” then mentioned the hot dogs filled out their buns quite well too. Brad smiled at the notion and thanked his boyfriend for such kind observations. Chris then proceeded to smash last hurdle to happy happy joy fun land by spending his last two cents.

“As for both polls and poles, whenever these f*cks come around, we will take them in.”

“We always do.” Brad whole heartedly agreed adding, “people always seemed surprised both of them were so versatile and open minded.”

They were when it counted.

[xylophone888]

please ignore that the last one is grindr messages :praying_hands_emoji:

[spicyicymeloncat]

Idk if this is a hot take but why is it always “Kai slaved away and worked his ass off to raise his sister” and never the other way round or them working hard together?

Like, I know he’s older but in the show, does he really… act older? Like if you think about Kai and Nya’s dynamic yknow? Because from my understanding:

When Kai and Nya are introduced we see Kai fail at making a sword and Nya being the one to chide him for it. Kai makes an overconfident statement about wanting to be a better blacksmith than his father. This suggests that one, Kai is rather rash as well as inexperienced (something that lines up with the rest of his character arc in the pots and also generally), with Nya being the more mature figure in contrast

Also just a note but in the shorts: “I can handle it!” “No you can’t, stupid”

Kai frequently being very good at neglecting people or things: leaving Lloyd at an arcade whilst being focused on finding samurai x, not even knowing samurai x was Nya or that she only did it because she felt left out by him, completely abandoning both Nya and Lloyd in s3 (and Ik he was going through it at the time, but in line with the fandom’s characterisation of him)

Kai in season 5: “After I lost my dad, I lost my way. But I was lucky to have my sister watch over me”

Generally, their dynamic isn’t one where Kai really provides for Nya at all. In fact, judging by the fact that Nya can make entire mechs and Kai struggled to make a sword, Nya was probably busting her ass to provide for Kai. And judging by the s5 quote, that’s probably true. I’m not saying Nya raised Kai, it just rubs me the wrong way when she’s treated like a decorative flourish to a narrative that paints Kai as a burnt out child who was forced to grow up too soon especially since that is such a mischaracterisation of him in the first place.

[cynicatalyst]

Practice doodles while I learn how to draw yautjas. Ended up making my own yautja in the process. :]