#its a phenomenal show go watch it

[vexx-the-egg]

Sometimes the Dub is bad and no it's not bec "Nihon is superior" it's because some voice actors can't get past what I call "The anime voice" where they have to over act the most casual conversation, like theyre giving the most rallying speach about going to the dentist. Where else in the JP dub the actors might as well be picking there nose while taking. The vibes off. Sometimes simple voice acting adds more to the charcter then overacting.

[ajaegerpilot]

WOWW sharp objects really is 'mom says most fucked up shit ever' the show!!!!!!

[james-stark-the-writer]

The Boys is the Undertale of superhero media

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[hemmingsleclerc]

A proud bf ┃Charles Leclerc

Charles had just finished a grueling day of training at the Austin Circuit. While resting in the comfort of his part of the Ferrari garage, he decided to relax by browsing his social networks. Little did he know that a video was about to capture his attention and turn his evening into a whirlwind of excitement.

While Charles was absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, he came across a post from his girlfriend, Y/N. The title intrigued him: "Had a great time on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon 🌟 Showdown #Mixtape Medley." Charles clicked on the video link and his eyes widened as Y/N's familiar face appeared on the screen.

The video showed Y/N on stage, facing off against Kelly Clarkson in a friendly competition called Mixtape Medley. Jimmy Fallon, with his characteristic charisma, introduced the contestants and generated expectation. The crowd cheered as the focus shifted between the singers, their voices weaving through the air as they .

''Ok, so here is how Mixtape Medley Showdown works'' Jimmy said ''I'm gonna spin the wheel and you're gonna get the title of a mixtape that you're gonna have to go back and forth singing a medley of those songs''

To Charles' amazement, Y/N's performance was nothing short of spectacular. Her voice resonated with a power and emotion that captivated the audience, singing songs by Cher, Celine Dion among other great artists. The tension in the room reached its climax when the winner was announced and, to the surprise of no one (except, perhaps, Charles himself), Y/N emerged victorious, earning a standing ovation from the audience along with one from Kelly and Jimmy.

Overwhelmed with pride, Charles couldn't contain his excitement. He immediately grabbed his phone and called Y/N, who was still buzzing with adrenaline from the show.

"Hey, Charlie!" she answered, her voice filled with joy.

"My love!, that was incredible! I can't believe you won! You were amazing! I'm so so proud of you, I can't stop watching the video!" Charles exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious.

Laughing, Y/N replied, "I'm so glad you enjoyed it, babe. It was such a fun experience.I didn't think I was going to win!"

Unable to contain his excitement, Charles decided to share the news with his mates. He ran to his close friend Sebastian Vettel's room and walked through the door with a smile on his face.

"Seb! You won't believe what just happened! Y/N was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, and she won a singing contest!" Charles exclaimed, barely pausing for breath.

Sebastian, amused by Charles' animated demeanor, replied, "Really? That's fantastic! I didn't know she could sing like that. You must be a proud boyfriend."

"Oh, I am! You have no idea. I've been watching the video on repeat. She was phenomenal!" Charles gushed.

Word quickly spread through the paddock about Y/N's triumph, and soon, other drivers were joining the conversation. Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, and Daniel Ricciardo were all eager to congratulate Charles on his talented girlfriend.

The atmosphere in the paddock transformed into a celebration, with the drivers watching videos of Y/N's concert that Charles had taken, and one or another of them making fun of him when they heard comments from him towards his girlfriend.

As the night wore on, Charles couldn't help but revel in the unexpected joy that Y/N's performance had brought to the Formula 1 community and how very proud he was to have that girl as his girlfriend and to be able to call her his.

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynln, maxverstappen and 1,593,694 others

charles_leclerc Check out the new video of my wonderful girl on The Tonight Show with Jimmy!

username ''my girl'' 🥺

username he's so bf coded stop

username WE SUPPORT A PROUD BF

[helluvapoison]

Lucifer Morningstar ABC’s (SFW)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

♡ A. Affection ♡

How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

What doesn’t he do?

Lucifer looks at you with pure adoration. It’s like he wakes up and falls in love with you all over again throughout the day. Gifts, compliments, the kindest words, the cutesy nicknames— He will do anything and everything to show he loves you, but he specifically thrives when you tell him what you want or need from him.

“Luci, could you—“

He’s on it, rushing to your side before you’re finished speaking.

“Yes! Absolutely, of course, anything, what is it my light requires?”

Reward him with praise and a kiss, it’s like he’s back on top of the world

♡ B. Bad Habit ♡

What bad habits do they have?

Lucifer forgets there’s an entire realm that’s under his care, that other people exist outside of whatever project he’s hyper focused on. This takes a massive toll on his relationship with Charlie and, occasionally, you. You, however, live with Lucifer so it makes the patchwork easier.

He struggles to take care of himself and his pride refuses to let anyone help. He’ll work and work and work until he passes out standing up! His stomach will be howling, his eyes drooping, his body aching everywhere but he won’t feel it.

All of that goes hand in hand with how stubborn Luci can be. He won’t cater to his needs so when you barge in to, oh, y’know, keep him alive, he feels incredibly guilty

♡ C. Comfort ♡

Are they a good shoulder to cry on or do they get awkward?

You’ll want or need for nothing with Lucifer. A shoulder is the least he can do for you if you’re upset.

The issue is when he sees your tears, he panics— inwardly. A thousand questions rush through his mind. Are you hurt? He scans for signs of injury as he steps closer. Was someone cruel to you? His demonic features threaten to flare.

You can see the turmoil unfold and dissipate all at once. You need him, so there’s only one question he needs to ask. Slowly, Lucifer reaches up to cradle your face. He wipes away your tears with his thumb

“How can I fix this?”

♡ D. Domestic ♡

Are there plans for the future? Kids, a house, a dog or three?

He has a ring in his pocket at all times, just not the balls to pop the question. Lucifer wants it all, absolutely everything, as long as it’s with you and he’s known it for a long time

♡ E. Energy ♡

Would you have trouble keeping up with them?

Lucifer’s an introvert with an energy scale thats’s broken on both ends. He prefers his down time where he can tinker alone in his office. However, he’s extremely charming and a phenomenal conversationalist. He draws power from crowds and party-like settings, most likely because people are watching in awe of him.

Still, he’d happily choose a mundane dinner with you, Charlie and Vaggie over anything

♡ F. Fear ♡

What are they scared of when it comes to you?

He managed to go on after falling… and after Lilith, but both events took its toll on him. Lucifer doesn’t think he could survive losing you. The thought alone is paralyzing

♡ G. Gentle ♡

How gentle are they?

Painfully gentle when he needs to be but occasionally Lucifer forgets himself. He’s in a constant state of touch deprivation so when he gets desperate for it, he might be a tad overzealous.

Definitely tackled you to the ground in a hug before

♡ H. Honesty ♡

Do they have secrets they hide?

It’s not a secret but he is ashamed to admit he keeps his first wedding ring. He took it off after you two began going steady for a year or so. It felt disingenuous. He would hate to have you thinking he was attempting to make you a stand in for Lilith. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it

♡ I. I love you’s ♡

Who says it first?

It has to be you. Lucifer chokes on the words every time he feels them bubbling up in his chest. Literally, he starts coughing and excuses himself to get water. As adorable as you think it is, you bite the bullet and try to make it as natural as possible.

He was hunched over his desk, intensely focused on design plans an addition to Lu Lu World. You leaned around his chair, set down a warm mug filled with coffee, plant a kiss on his cheek aaaand,

“I’m off, Luci!” You press your lips to his forehead, “Have a nice day, I love you.”

“Aw, I love you too, sweetie!” He replied, not looking up from the papers.

Smiling to yourself, you turned and slowly began making your way to toward the door.

Three… two.. o— CRASH!

Lucifer was in front of you before you could blink with his arms and wings stretched out to stop you from taking another step. His eyes were wild and wide.

“You—You love me?” He sounded breathless.

“Of course I love you, Luci.”

He floundered between cackling and gasping for air for a good minute.

“I-I-I love you too! You know I love you, right?” He stammered out, gesturing between you both, “I love you so fucking much it’s insane!”

The day’s problems and errands are forgotten, lost amongst the hundred-thousand ‘I love you’s said.

“Say it again,” Lucifer asked dreamily, about to fall asleep in your arms that night.

“I love you, Lucifer.”

♡ J. Jealous ♡

Are they jealous? How do they handle it?

There’s an almost nonexistent line Lucifer walks between fine and incandescent demon. He forgot what jealousy felt for a good thousand years before you. Christ on a cracker, he fucking hates it!

He’ll do his very, very, very best not to blow up (metaphorically speaking… but also literally) but he slips, his rage is never aimed at you! It entirely depends on the situation, the person he’s dealing with, if he can get you back into his arms before the flames rise past his throat. Touching you again in some way is like cool relief.

Just hold his hand until you guys get home and he’ll apologize properly. Lucifer feels immensely guilty afterwards, he just can’t stand the idea of losing you

♡ K. Kiss ♡

What kind of kisser? Deep and passionate? Sloppy? Little pecks on the cheek?

Lucifer kisses you like he’ll never see you again. He wants to encase the moment in gold so it can never end, memorizing how your lips feel upon his

♡ L. Listen ♡

Do they hang off your every word or have selective hearing?

As long as you have his attention beforehand, you can rest assured he’s listened to every single word you’ve said. If you try and talk to him while he’s working, he might not realize it and you’ll have to start again

(Be patient with Lucifer. You can see he’s trying so hard to participate in conversations but through reminding himself to pay attention, he gets distracted and lost. He really is trying)

♡ M. Maintenance ♡

Are they high maintenance? Low? Do they need more skincare products than you?

“What can I say? I take pride in everything.”

You snort out a laugh, tousling his hair before leaving the bathroom.

Preens like a bird, always looking so dapper. When Lucifer has the energy to get take the necessary steps he has the works awaiting. Hair product, skincare routine, steam and press his white suit! It doesn’t always get done but he has it! You’ve helped him relearn to be ok with the bare minimum; sometimes brushing his hair and teeth, then putting on clothes is enough.

Extra: Lucifer’s idea for a date night is a spa treatment! Face masks, bubble baths, washing hair, painting nails and silk pajamas

♡ N. Newsworthy ♡

Are they shouting their love from the rooftops?

Considering he’s somewhat a celebrity figure and a recluse, his private life is very much sought after. Lucifer would love nothing more than to soar through the skies of Hell and have it echoing through every dirty alley how much he loves you, how proud he is to be with you!

But he won’t, especially not at first. Lucifer wants to keep you his secret for a while, something for himself. Charlie will be the first to know and everything can spiral from there for all he cares. Before any of that happens, though? Somehow all of Hell can tell

♡ O. Observant ♡

Do they watch you often or spare you glances?

Lucifer could watch you like a television, you’re so enchanting. He notices everything about you and stores the information for the future (as if him knowing you don’t like chives, or something, would ever be useful) Quirks, likes and dislikes, allergies— he knows it all!

Wanna quiz him? C’mon, quiz him! He’s confident he’ll get an A+

♡ P. Protection ♡

Are they overboard or level headed about protecting their loved ones?

Said with nothing but love, Lucifer is extremely overprotective. Without hesitation, he’d dive headfirst into battle, start and end wars for you or Charlie. When he says nothing will never ever ever happen to you, he fucking means it

♡ Q. Quid Pro Quo ♡

Is it 50/50? Give and get?

Yes and no

Is the relationship equal? Yes! If you give Lucifer something (be it affection, a gift, etc) does he feel undeserving and get the overwhelming need to overcompensate? Also yes!

♡ R. Reliable ♡

Can you count on them?

Undoubtedly.

♡ S. Scent ♡

Their perfume/cologne/natural musk

Lucifer has a few colognes that he wears on special occasions; ambery vanilla or vanilla bourbon. His soaps smell like crisp, red apples.

Naturally, he doesn’t smell like anything. He tells you it’s the “charcoal curse”. You wrap your arms around him and say he always smells like home, hoping that will lift his spirits

♡ T. Temper ♡

What is their temper like? Quick to anger? Long fuse? How bad do they lose it?

There’s been instances where there’s little to no build up on Lucifer’s fury but normally, he’s quite patient! Or at least very good at pretending to be unbothered. He doesn’t like losing control of any of his emotions but sometimes it’s inevitable. Scenarios as such usually, if not always, surround you and Charlie and if that happens… there’s destruction to clean up afterwards

♡ U. Unwind ♡

How do they relax?

Unfortunately for you, Lucifer doesn’t quite recall how to relax. Or when he should. Or why he should— hey, why should he?

He doesn’t realize tinkering with his ducks naturally lets off steam. Plus, sometimes he ends up more frustrated with the outcome and the relaxing process of making it was for naught

Toss him in the bath with some bubbles and his favorite ducks. Seriously. Perch outside the tub (or in it if you want!) and watch Luci melt back into the man you love. Call him your little duckling and he’s officially right as rain

♡ V. Value ♡

What’s their love language? What makes them feel special?

Acting • Gift Giving

Receiving • Words of affirmation

♡ W. Waves ♡

What will you two argue most about?

His health or his pessimism. You worry for his mental well being as much as you do his body, he needs to be able to take care of both. Lucifer’s cynical attitude is partly how he feels and partly him trying to convince himself of what he’s saying

The last time he dreamed too big didn’t end well at all but you remind him that shouldn’t stop him from having new dreams, even itty bitty ones! Not to mention his words have an effect on others as well and he forgets that

♡ X. Xylophone ♡

What’s their song?

Icarus - Bastille

Your hands protect the flames

From the wild winds around you

Icarus is flying too close to the sun

And Icarus' life, it has only just begun

It's just begun...

Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace

It scares me half to death

Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing

(bonus, From Eden - Hozier, no i don’t give a flying fuck if it’s on the nose)

♡ Y. Yearning ♡

How do they act when separated?

It’s incredibly hard to leave him behind. While he teases he’ll fall apart without you, Lucifer wears a brave face when it actually comes time for you to leave. His smile is tight, brows pinching upwards the farther you get. It’s torture not to reach out and steal you back, deny you from ever leaving him.

He was joking in an entirely serious way. If it wasn’t for your texts (Luci leaps for his phone with every buzz, just in case it’s you) he’d forget… just about everything. Doesn’t matter the time or day unless it’s regarding your returning date

♡ Z. Zzz ♡

Do they sleep a lot? Not enough? Night owl or early bird? Light sleeper or heavy?

The theme of the hour is you could be in store for almost anything!

Ranging anywhere from jumping into bed when you mention getting tired and passing out at his desk at an unholy hour, it really depends on the day and Lucifer’s mood. He could have nightmares and cling to you in his sleep, he could wake up at 3am with a brilliant idea that he just has to get done right then and there, he could stay snoring in your arms! Normally, as long as you don’t get out of bed he’ll stay asleep

Don’t even think about getting up to pee, he’ll illuminate the room with his big and pitiful crimson eyes

“Where’re you goin?” He mumbles, still partly asleep

“Be right back, duckie.”

Your lips linger on his forehead while his eyes droop shut once more. Give it a few seconds then carefully slide out of bed. Just be back before he wakes up!

~

╰(*´︶`*)��♡

[caityjay13]

Dear Followers,

This is a PSA. Hikaru no Go (2020) is now available to stream on Prime Video. You should watch it.

But Caity, you may ask. Why should I watch this Chinese live action drama based on the popular turn-of-the-millenium Japanese manga and anime of the same name? The answer, my friends, is because it is fucking phenomenal.

Hikaru no Go is my favorite sports anime. It was one of the first manga I ever read. When I own a home someday and have bookshelves, it is one of the only manga series I wish to own in its entirety in print. The story is deeply compelling, moving, funny, relatable. It truly has something I haven't found in another animanga in twenty years.

And the Chinese live action adaptation takes that perfect, beautiful source material and creates something equally perfect and beautiful (if not more so? feels blasphemous to say, but boy howdy I'm not NOT saying it).

The way in which the original Japanese story—the characters, the culture, the game of go—is translated into Chinese is really masterfully executed. The story is incredibly faithful to the original, and when it does differ, it does so in really creative, thoughtful ways that really work.

The actors fucking nail it. Honestly all of them, but I'm looking at the kids in the first two episodes in particular. Blown away by the performances of a couple of ten-year-olds. Kids have a bright future ahead of them, damn.

This show has the budget. If y'all know me at all, you know I'll enjoy a low-budget wuxia flick because it's a good time, but damn, if I had standards, they would be met and exceeded by this show. The hair, the makeup, the costumes, the effects (there is an effect every time the "ghost" is on screen where he is partially translucent. It is perfectly executed and incredibly impressive, at least to my layman eyes). The very first opening credits scene is super beautiful, the end credits are beautiful, it's all just so pretty and polished and feels good on my eye holes.

Honestly, I cannot gush enough about this show. It ranks up with Nirvana in Fire in my heart (which I do not say lightly, considering I went through my entire list and lowered the ratings I'd given each show accordingly after I first watched nif so that the 10 weighed more heavily).

tl;dr: If you liked the hikago animanga, you should watch this show. If you never read/watched hikago, you should watch this show. If you did not like hikago, you should watch this show. Please watch this show, I am begging you.

Sincerely, A Rabid Hikago Fangirl

[mrsackermannx]

chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.

so, he does just that.

he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.

sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.

it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“

sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”

a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.

“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”

“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.

he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.

he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.

it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.

“oh…him? think they’re married?”

“i don’t think so.”

that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”

you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”

sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.

no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.

“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“

“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”

the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.

sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.

“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“

“miss-“

“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”

your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.

now you see him, huh?

your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”

your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.

sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.

you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“

the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.

he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”

his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.

you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”

“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.

“oh?”

“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”

“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”

“seafood special last month?”

“yes, and your name?”

for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”

“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 6

Every week I think I cannot possibly be having a better time with this show than I already am and every week I'm proven wrong. I LOVE IT HERE AND I'M HAVING A GREAT TIME!

Well Mut, I suffer from this condition as well. It's called Permanent Heart Eyes and it's incurable.

This is such a universal expression. Anyone who has ever watched someone they love eat something they cooked for them and enjoy it has made this face. Food is the greatest love language of them all.

Also, very pleasantly surprised to learn that Tongrak is a leftovers girly. I didn't expect him to be and now I love him even more.

Peat really has mastered the shift from 🥺 to 🥰. He does it a lot this episode and it barely takes him a full second each time, I love it.

When I tell you I COULD. NOT. LOVE. THIS. MAN. MORE. We only see him in profile when he delivers the last part of this line but this is a delightfully murderous expression. If I don't get a scene of Mahasamut cussing Prin out I'm going to be so disappointed.

The utter shock at hearing that Mut wants to hear about Tongrak from him. The quiet disbelief. The relief. I can't show it in a screenshot but Tongrak breathes out when Mut says this and his shoulders relax. No one has ever given this man the courtesy of asking directly if they want to know something about him and allowing him to decide if he wants to share things and Mut does it so easily.

The way he marvels at Mahasamut as it sinks in that he gets a choice, that he gets to decide if and how much to tell is just... it's lovely and completely fucking heartbreaking at the same time.

And because he was actually given a choice, he had no choice but to open up. Mut has made him feel so safe and respected that opening up becomes easy.

"Even though they have a complete, loving family with a loving father."

Stab me, it would hurt less.

No expression but the vibe is "I didn't say you could hug me but also I'm going to cling to you for dear life and try to burrow inside of your chest".

This is another one of those scenes that could have its own dedicated post and for which I would hit the picture limit immediately because the expressions were phenomenal and numerous so I'm cutting myself off.

Would you look at that. Tongrak opened up and now we're cuddling and taking a nap inside of the bedroom no one has ever been allowed to enter. Phenomenal. I'm so proud of this sleepy kitten.

Quick, someone google "how to tell your buddy that you're his husband's best friend's new sugar baby" for Mut he's asking for a friend it's him he's the friend.

THE CUTE AGGRESSION IS ETERNAL AND RELENTLESS.

Fort does the scolded puppy face so well.

Well aren't WE a jealous little jellyfish, Khun Tongrak? He's so bitchy I love him so much.

Not pictured: him refusing to speak first when he talks to Connor even though he's the one who called and the 30 different emotions he goes through during that call.

I spy with my little eye TWO jealous lil jellyfish. What's a group of jellyfish called?

*looks*

A bloom. There's a bloom of pouty jealous jellyfish in this house. I do love when "fights" are for silly reasons and everyone involved knows they're being ridiculous.

Side note: I covet this wallpaper. I need it on one of my bedroom walls immediately.

Also, I would like to do my clown check in for the week and point out that Vivi has solid-colored textured pillows and patterned pillows on her couch but Tongrak chose to cuddle the patterned ones.

We finally got to meet Tongrak's niece Meena and oh but she's a darling, precocious little thing. I also look at Mahasamut like this but you have no business doing it, miss thing, you're a baby! Same goes for reading your uncle's novels I say as someone who started reading romance novels when I was about her age.

2.7 seconds apart. I timed it. I'm saying it every week at this point but Peat, I love everything you do with your face.

And I am very quickly growing to love everything Nina does with that cute little face, too. It's good for Meena to see her beloved uncle being so loved by the beautiful man living in his house.

I have so much more to say about Meena but that definitely will get its own post because it's not limited to her facial expressions. There's a lot to unpack in this scene and in the cafe scene with her and Mut.

I mean--do I even need to say anything? I can't wait to reblog every single gif I can find of this scene because it had me screaming into a pillow like Tongrak.

I'm reaaaaally starting to hate the 30 image photo limit because it truly is not enough to capture everything I love in this feast of a show. Prepare to be so sick of me because there WILL be more posts about this episode.

Also, if you'd like to be tagged in my weekly ramblings about micro-expressions, let me know! 💖

[alienjock]

in 2016, i was a closeted suicidal high school sophomore with undiagnosed autism. barely hanging onto life by a thread, one of the few things i found solace in was the world of critical role. my creative passions gave me a sense of fulfillment, and the love i had for the cast of vox machina, and for my fellow critters, gave me a sense of community i don’t think i would be here today if not for them.

the love and gratitude and comfort i got from this single gesture kept me going. it kept me hopeful. it reminded me that the people i loved and looked up to so deeply were kind and caring and compassionate. that they saw the hurt in the world and they wanted to reach their hand out to others, to offer support, to show struggling and scared young folk like me that they had an ally.

this kindness can not be found from them today.

in the past few years, the humanitarian aid critical role has provided through its charity organization and promotional outreach has been incredible. but as of right now, closing in on around four months since israel launched an all out attack, a full and total genocidal campaign to commit an ethnic cleansing of the palestinian people from their homeland, critical role has been completely silent.

not just silent, in fact.

they are silencing pro-palestine voices, blocking fans who call them out, and overall doing a phenomenal job at showcasing that now that they’re in amazon’s pocket, they couldn’t give a fuck about showing any real support towards palestine in the face of industry backlash.

at best, they are cowards.

cancel your critical role subscriptions, stop watching their shows, stop buying their merch, stop supporting them. demand accountability. you as fans have all the power. make them speak up.

a free palestine is in the future, and there are those who stay silent while they beg for freedom. for justice. for the people of the world to join them. do not let them stay silent. do not let them get away with turning a blind eye to crimes against humanity.

@criticalrole what ever happened to remembering to love each other? 🇵🇸❤️🖤🤍💚

[metamorphesque]

I saw you mentioned being a theatre lover as well. What are the best plays you've seen? (I'm also into theater I hope to do it at uni)

At first, I told myself I’d mention only one play… but that one play led to another… and then it became three. So, here are three of my favorite plays. All of them were performed at the Drama Theater named after H. Ghaplanyan.

“Great Silence” («Մեծ լռություն») – written by P. Zeytuntsyan (one of Armenia's most influential modern dramatists), directed by A. Khandikyan.

This play explores the lives and tragic fates of the Armenian poets Daniel Varujan and Ruben Sevak, both of whom were victims of the Armenian Genocide in 1915. It’s a deeply moving and heartbreaking piece, and the phenomenal performances of the actors elevate it into an emotionally and intellectually profound experience for the audience. I particularly want to highlight Artashes Mkhitaryan, who portrays Daniel Varujan. His subtle expressions—a flicker of hope, quiet despair in his eyes or the strength he conveys in silence—serve as windows into Varujan’s internal struggle. Varujan’s words in the play are not merely lines; they are the voice of an Armenian poet whose heart bled for his homeland. The entire play is performed in Western Armenian, as both Daniel and Ruben were Western Armenian writers. Artashes’ mastery of the language and his delivery of Varujan’s poetry are especially moving. His recitations make each word feel deliberate, delivered with the weight it deserves. His ability to bring poetry to life on stage shows his deep understanding of the significance behind each letter, word and pause.

It brings me great joy to think that I will see this play again at the end of September.

2. “The Parisian Verdict” («Փարիզյան դատավճիռ») – written by P. Zeytuntsyan, directed by A. Khandikyan.

A truly heartbreaking piece! The play revolves around the trial of four ASALA (Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia) members who participated in the Van Operation in 1981. During this incident, ASALA members occupied the Turkish consulate in Paris to draw attention to the Armenian cause and Turkey’s continued denial of the Armenian Genocide. The four demanded recognition of the genocide and the release of Armenian political prisoners. This operation thrust the issue of the Armenian Genocide into the international spotlight. (I promise to tell you more about ASALA in the near future.)

What makes this play even more special is that two of the Van Operation members actually live in Armenia. After each performance, they go on stage and stand alongside the actors. I’ve had the opportunity (and mustered the courage) to approach them, express my admiration for their sacrifice and exchange a few words. I can’t even begin to describe what it feels like to shake hands and speak with someone who has been your hero since childhood.

3. “Eternal Return” («Անվերջ Վերադարձ») – a theatrical fantasy based on Paruyr Sevak’s poetry, directed by A. Khandikyan.

Every phrase, every word in this play feels so relevant and relatable that it’s as if it were written yesterday. The story centers on the poet’s struggle against falsehood, time and the world. It’s one of those pieces you need to watch multiple times to fully grasp its depth. Perfectly written and perfectly performed—absolutely marvelous!

PS. Good luck with your acting classes!

[renthony]

Animation (specifically 2D animation) is my preferred TV/film medium. A piece of live-action has to go above and beyond to get over my personal bias of, "most things would be better if they were animated," but it's taken me a long time to figure out what, exactly, makes a piece of live-action really do it for me.

I think what it really comes down to, for me, is the little details. If your live-action doesn't have some level of nuanced physical acting, intense detailing in costuming and set design, a strong sense of visual storytelling, or kickass practical effects, I'm pretty much always going to come away thinking, "I'd like it better as a cartoon."

I think some of this is due to my issues with face blindness--I need characters to have distinct silhouette and costuming, or they will all blur together in my head. Animation tends to stress the importance of silhouette, so I have an easier time telling everyone apart and following who's who. That's not to say that this problem doesn't happen in animation, or that it always happens in live action, but I do think it contributes to my personal preferences.

Anyway, just for fun, a random shortlist of some live-action that I think uses its medium well:

Child's Play/Chucky. Half the appeal of Chucky (IMHO) is the incredible showcase of practical effects and animatronics. Each incarnation of the Chucky doll incorporates incredible advances in animatronic and puppeteering technology. I have on multiple occasions compared the Chucky puppeteer team to Muppet performers. That shit is its own art form, and it's incredible. The current Chucky show makes some use of CGI, but it's all to enhance the practical effects, and the puppeteers are all given the spotlight in the show's credits. I love that.

Killjoys. The incredible nuance to the actors' body and facial acting is mind-blowing. The set design and costuming are gorgeous, and there's a lot of very good detail worked into the visual space that would be hard to animate. They use their CGI well when they do use it, but a significant amount of the show seems to be practical effects and props. Additionally, Hannah John-Kamen's ability to flawlessly portray multiple characters is so good it's uncanny and makes you forget they're literally being played by the same woman. She changes her entire body language, and it's phenomenal.

Jordan Peele's entire body of horror. His films pack in so much symbolism and subtlety that I could probably watch them all a million times and still find new details. The nuance in the acting, the sheer detail packed into the costuming and set design, the use of color...god. It's unreal.

Crimson Peak, because the set design for that film...holy fuck. The costuming and set design in that film are pure gold. The acting is also phenomenal, but I could probably talk about the set design for hours. The house is a character in its own right.

Galavant and Our Flag Means Death, both for the same reason: both shows feel like I'm hanging out at a ren faire being goofy with my friends. They feel like I'm watching a LARP. They feel like they could easily exist in the same setting as Muppet Treasure Island, and at any second Kermit is going to show up and start singing, and it wouldn't be out of place at all. I think I'd also include Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves in this category, along with The Princess Bride and Labyrinth--all of which also include kickass practical effects, choreography, and costuming.

This isn't some sort of objective truth or anything. I just like that I've finally been able to nail down some reasons why I prefer animation, beyond just, "idk, cartoons are fun."

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HAZBIN WAS SO FUCKING GOOD IM GOING INSANE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKENFKCMKWJRKFNSMSMDMSMDN-

Okay. Okay deep breaths. Time for some cool and collected comentary. Okay.

Putting it under the cut so ppl can avoid spoilers :)

HUSK USED TO BE AN OVERLORD!?!?!?!?!? HELLO!?!?!?!?!? FUCKIN PLOTTWIST OF THE CENTURY WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?!?

Huskerdust my beloved

SIR PENTIOUS MY BELOVED

Vox was great. I love him he's so fucking cool-

If Vox wasn't already a Tumblr sexyman he's definitely gonna be one now. He's so fucking Onceler coded it's insane.

Velvette was amazing too. It's so funny that she's British lmao I was not expecting that

Velvette is also very Anne Boelyne(like from SIX not from Real Life) coded it's wild. Her part in that song with Carmila was giving so much Don't Lose Your Head

I swear I'll stop comparing them to other characters I SWEAR

Okay but me and my brother are working on a Hazbin Hotel swap AU where we swap the main cast with the overlords and in that AU we swapped Husk and Vox. The Husk used to be an overlord reveal is gonna make that AU soooooo much easier lmao

ADAM IS REALLY GOOD I promised I would stop comparing to other characters but he was giving SO MUCH Hades from Disney's Hercules like its insane

I think we should let Alex Brightman sing rocj and roll more often that song was such a fucking BANGER

SPEAKING OF THE SONGS- oh my god I love the soundtrack so fucking much-

Stayed Gone was a lil less hype then I was expecting but thats okay cuz it was still a banger and I loved the visuals

That song battle between Carmilla and Velvette????? Oh my god??????

Carmilla and Vaggie's song was also amazing but I think I know why they didn't have Stephanie Beatriz sing her own song in Elena of Avalor y'know, girl cannot hold a character voice while singing

LOSER WAS SO FUCKING GOOD- I love Huskerdust so much. I love Keith David so much. Blake Roman is such a phenomenal Angel Dust.

SPEAKING OF all the voice actors are amazing. Blake Roman, Brightman as Pentious and Joel Perez were the ones I was the most worried abt but I loved all their preformances so much it was fucking fantastic

Valentino can go die in a fucking hole <3

The other Vees are cool and fun to watch but I hope Valentino fucking dies

Okay to be fair he's also fun to watch when he's not in the same room as Angel Dust but tHAT DOESNT SUPERSEID MY HATRED FUCK 👏 THAT 👏 GUY 👏👏👏👏

Speaking of the Vees tho I do love their dynamic

My favorite episode was probably Radio Killed the Video Star bcuz of mY BOYS PENTIOUS AND VOX!!!!!!!!

And the most painful episode to watch was- no surprise- Masquerade

That episode was a fucking rollercoaster Jesus fucking Christ...

Those scenes with Angel and Valentino where so fucking visceral... like. Who the fuck wrote that. Who are you. Are you okay. Do you need help-

Tho I'm not sure abt how they're handling the ah- more serious bits of Angel's character. It is WAYYYYYY to early to tell and I think Loser wasn't like. Trying to downplay the situation. But the writers better have been careful moving foreward bcuz I can def see a world where Angel's arc goes very wrong very fast-

Also while we're criticizing: wasn't a fan of the pacing. Especially in episode two. Like I can look past it, but the way they breeze past some plot points kinda bugged me

Otherwise it was sooooooo fucking good man oh my god

THE HUMOR WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN PPL MAKE IT OUT TO BEEEEEE PPL NEED TO STOP SHITTING ON THE COMEDY IN THESE SHOWS MAN-

The gag where Niffty just fucking stopped thinking every time the camera turned on was so fucking good

Niffty in general was really fuckin funny

Alastor was a lot less prominent of a character then I thought he would be but tbh I think that's for the best. He's like Discord from My Little Pony, fun in small doses but if you don't set perameters for how often he appears and when he's willing to help it kinda breaks the show

Chaggie is adorable and I love them <3

I think this show does a really good job balancing the focus on the whole cast! These first 4 episodes seem to be pretty Charlie, Angel and kind of Vaggie heavy but everybody still gets their fair share of attention!

THE ANIMATIOJ OH MY GOD- IT WAS FUCKING PHENOMENAL IM LOSING MY M I N D

Im going feral IM GOING FERAL THIS EXCEEDED MY EXPECTATIONS AKFNVKKENFEKFNDN

I love comedy. I love musicals. I love drama. I love silly characters. I LOVE ANIMATION!!!!!!!

It's like the South Park movie but longer and better animated and IVE BEEN WAITING FOUR FUCKING YEARS-

Just. So excited overall. Can't wait to see where it goes. May make more posts abt my thoughts in tbe future.

[rayaverra]

Confessions // Luke Castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

genre: fluff.

summary: Luke finally found the courage to confess his feelings to you.

warnings: none

wc: 965

notes: I didn't know how to end this so the ending is a bit rushed.

english is not my first language, so there may be mistakes.

・❥・༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶・❥・

The first time Luke saw you was in the Big House. He was there for a counselors meeting when he saw you talking with Chiron.

"I made sure each pegasus had their hay and a fresh bucket of water. I even checked their hooves and brushed them down. Everything's shipshape in the stables!" You explained to Chiron, not noticing Luke at first.

Chiron nodded approvingly. "That's wonderful, [y/n]. Taking care of the pegasi is a big responsibility, and you handled it brilliantly. Your dedication is truly appreciated." He smiled at you, and Luke felt his heart cartwheel as your lips pulled up into a grin that he thought was the definition of beauty.

He coughed.

Chiron turned his head and nodded. "Luke, you're early. We'll start once the other counselors arrive. In the meantime, [y/n] was informing me about her stable duties. You're welcome to share your updates as well."

"No specific updates, sir. Just eager to hear about the camping trip plans and ready to contribute." He glanced at you. "I'm Luke, by the way, counselor of Cabin 11. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand, and when you took it, the warmth that flooded him was phenomenal. It was like a volcano had erupted in his heart, with lava flowing through every fiber of his being.

"I'm [y/n]. I've heard a lot about you, it's nice to finally meet you." You smiled, and Luke's heart continued to perform acrobatics.

You let go of his hand, and he immediately felt a subtle loss from your fleeting connection slipping away. You exchanged a few last words with Chiron and left the room as the rest of the councilors started arriving one by one.

Luke watched you walk until he couldn't see you anymore. He let out a sigh, turning to face Chiron, who was staring at him smugly.

He rolled his eyes, knowing that your image would grace his dreams at night until he saw you around camp again.

 

It had been three months since that day in the Big House. Since then, you had started to hang out with Luke more, met the rest of the Hermes cabin, were totally freaked out when the Stoll brothers pulled out one of their pranks on you, and Luke had finally gathered the courage to ask you out.

His face glowed when you said yes. For what seemed like the first time since Thalia's incident, Luke was happy. No, not happy. Delighted.

There weren't words to describe how he felt when he was with you. You were everything he could have ever dreamed of. He even found himself going to his half-brothers for advice.

"Hey, Chris, I need your help."

"Sure, what's up?"

"It's about [y/n]"

 

"So, what were you and Chris talking about earlier?"

You were sitting on a weathered wooden bench underneath the sprawling canopy of old pine trees nestled beside a serene lake, its waters reflecting the warm hues of the setting sun.

"What are you talking about?" He looked at you and whined. A chorus of crickets joined the symphony of nature as he avoided your gaze.

"Earlier today, you and Chris were talking, and when I showed up, you stopped." You remarked. "Is there something I should know?"

Luke sighed. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The scent of pine mingled with the aroma of the nearby campfire, creating the perfect atmosphere for what Luke had in mind. It's time, he thought to himself.

"Luke, what's wrong?" You were concerned when he took longer to reply.

"I went to Chris for advice. Advice on how to tell you something I've wanted to for a long time..." He reached to grab your hand, the volcano inside him erupting like it did every time he touched you.

"[y/n], when I'm with you, I'm this whole other person, but I'm also myself. I know it probably doesn't make sense, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like being around you. I like the person you make me and the person you let me be." As he spoke, the weight lifted from his shoulders. "You're perfect in every way possible, and you just- you drive me crazy."

Your eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and joy as you absorbed his heartfelt words. A radiant smile spread across your face without you realizing it. "Luke, wh- what are you saying?" Your words echoed as a whisper and blended with the symphony of nature around you.

"I love you, [y/n]" He whispered, locking his blue eyes with yours.

Your breath caught in your throat, and a gentle blush crept across your cheeks. Your eyes held a soft intensity as you gazed into Luke's, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his confession.

"I love you too," you whispered, and in that moment, your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, sealing the unspoken emotions that had danced in the air.

As your lips intertwined passionately, Luke pulled you onto his lap, allowing you to encircle your arms around his neck. Your hands delved into his hair, tugging at strands that sent shivers through him. Simultaneously, his hands explored your back, encountering the fabric of your shirt like an impassable barrier. A desperate need to feel your skin lingered in the air.

His hands were still dancing across your back, making their way down to feel the exposed skin by your waistband. He delighted in the goosebumps that formed as he stroked the skin there, and he felt you pull away, looking him in the eyes.

In that moment, under the starlit sky, your shared admission marked the beginning of a new chapter for you and Luke, a story filled with shared dreams and the joy of discovering love.

[warabidakihime]

Rules and Roses Chapter 6

★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza

★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.

★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic). 

★ content warnings : implied violence, self-harm and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.

★ Previous Chapter

a/n: heya! things are finally picking up and it will only go up from here and then BAM! i wasn't able to update last weekend because i wasn't doing great mentally and i was also pretty tired because of work, and so i just focused on resting last weekend. but voila! a new chapter for y'all! i've not proofread this yet, so apologies if there are any typos or parts that confuses you. will fix those tomorrow morning.

i sincerely hope you've been enjoying this fic and i really would like to hear your thoughts so don't be shy and leave a comment or two! you have no idea how much your comments inspire me to write.

anyway! enjoy reading!

--

Year 2016

A vast, icy expanse stretches before the camera. The crowd's excited murmurs gradually build into a roaring applause as a spotlight illuminates the center of the ice.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the edge of our seats as we welcome back the phenomenal Y/N! The reigning champion, the undisputed queen of the ice, is about to grace us with her artistry once more,” the commentator exclaimed to the mic.

You glide onto the ice; your every movement, fluid and effortless, as if you're dancing on air. Your breath, visible in the cold, adds a touch of ethereal beauty to your performance.

“There she is! The moment we've all been waiting for! The crowd is on their feet, their eyes glued to every twist and turn. Her posture is impeccable, and her lines are clean and sharp. This is what true elegance looks like!”

The commentator continued, his voice filled with excitement and passion.

As you progress through your routine, the music swells, mirroring the intensity of your performance. You execute a series of complex jumps with astonishing ease, landing each one with precision and grace.

“And there it is! A triple axel, executed to perfection! The crowd is in awe. This woman is on a different level. Her speed, her power, her control—it's simply breathtaking. Watch as she transitions into a spin; look at that speed and the way she controls her body. It's like she's defying gravity itself!"

You transition into a series of spins, giving your body a blur of color and movement. The commentator’s voice becomes more animated.

“Unbelievable! She's a ballerina on ice! The way she blends strength and delicacy is simply mesmerizing. And did you catch that change of direction? From a Biellmann spin to a layback spin in mere seconds? It's like she's speaking a different language on the ice. A language only the greatest can understand.” 

As you approach the end of your routine, the music crescendos, and you unleash a final burst of energy. Your emotions are raw, and your movements are filled with passion.

“She's pouring her heart and soul into this performance! The crowd is on its feet, cheering and applauding. This is a moment that will be remembered for years to come. And can we talk about the flexibility? Those splits, those extensions! She's not just an ice skater; she's a gymnast on ice! A complete show stopper!”

The commentator exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

A tear escapes your eye as you finish your routine, and you drop to the ice in a deep bow.

The crowd erupts in a standing ovation.

“A performance that transcends the boundaries of sport. Ice Queen Y/N has once again proven why she is the greatest ice skater of her generation. And speaking of greatness, this woman has it all. Talent, beauty, grace, and, let's not forget, a heart of gold. They say behind every successful woman is a great man, and this woman's boyfriend is definitely one to watch. Though we can't confirm anything, rumors have it that he's a rising star in the business world,” the commentator said, adding a touch of intrigue to his commentary.

You skate slowly towards the edge of the ice, your breath coming in short gasps. The crowd’s cheers and applause gradually subside as you approach your coach.

“And there she goes, skating towards her coach. A moment of pure relief and exhaustion. The pressure is off, and she can finally let go. This is a moment of truth, a moment of waiting. The scores will determine her fate. Let’s hope she’s brought her A-game today, but this is Y/N we're talking about; she's always on her A-game!” 

The camera cuts to the judges’ table as they begin their deliberation. The crowd holds their breath, their eyes glued to the screen.

After what feels like an eternity, the announcer steps up to the microphone.

“And the gold medal goes to... Y/N with a final score of 250.34 , a whopping 12.78 points ahead of her closest competitor! This not only secures her gold medal but also breaks her own world record, a record she has held for years! This is a historic moment, ladies and gentlemen!”

The announcer proclaimed, as the crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

The camera returns to you as you cover your face with your hands, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. Your coach gave you a fatherly hug, obviously proud of the feat you have achieved. Your family and friends were screaming at the top of their lungs, trying their best to convey their support for you. Meanwhile, the crowd continues to cheer as confetti falls from the ceiling.

You raise your arms in victory, a radiant smile on your face.

The physical therapy room was a familiar purgatory. The sterile white walls and the metallic gleam of the equipment were a constant reminder of your limitations. Once a sanctuary of grace and athleticism, it had become a battleground for recovery.

You moved through the routine with mechanical precision, your movements devoid of the once-fluid grace. Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you pushed your body to its limits. The pain was a constant companion, a dull ache that pulsed through your leg. Yet you persevered, driven by a stubborn determination.

Akaza watched from the corner, his eyes following your every move. His expression was a mask of indifference, but his posture spoke a different story. Tension rippled through his muscles as he observed your struggle.

Finally, exhausted but determined, you collapsed onto the mat, sweat beading on your forehead. Your body ached, but there was a sense of satisfaction in pushing through the pain.

The doctor entered, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He carried a clipboard, and his expression was serious.

"How are you feeling today, Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You managed a weak smile. "Tired, but okay."

The doctor nodded, his eyes scanning your form. "The progress is steady. Your strength is improving, and the range of motion in your leg is expanding."

A flicker of hope ignited in your chest. "Does that mean I can start... doing more?"

The doctor hesitated, his expression turning somber.

"There is good news and bad news."

Your heart sank. "Tell me the bad news first."

"The bad news is, the full range of motion you once had is unlikely to return. The scar tissue and the nature of your injury have created limitations. While you can walk and perform daily activities without significant discomfort, activities that require sudden bursts of speed, agility, or excessive weight-bearing are still risky."

A wave of disappointment washed over you. You had never entertained the thought of returning to competitive skating. That chapter of your life was firmly closed. But the idea of never being able to skate again, even for leisure, was definitely a bitter pill to swallow.

"I understand," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

"But," the doctor continued, his voice softening, "the good news is that you've exceeded expectations in your recovery. You're stronger than most people in your situation. With continued therapy and careful management, you can lead a normal, active life."

A normal life.

The word echoed in your mind.

A far cry from the extraordinary life you once lived.

"But remember, and I mean this in all seriousness, there are certain activities you should avoid," the doctor warned. "High-impact sports, for instance, are out of the question, and you need to be cautious about putting too much pressure on your leg."

You nodded, trying to absorb the information. The weight of disappointment was heavy on your shoulders.

"But I also want you to remember," the doctor added, "every day is a step forward, and you've come such a long way, Y/N. So you should be proud of your progress."

You forced a smile. "I am."

As the doctor left the room, you turned to Akaza. His eyes met yours, and in that brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of pity and something else, something you can quite pinpoint. You decided to dismiss it, attributing it to your overactive imagination.

Akaza approached you, his hand reaching out to offer support. "You're stronger than you think," he said, his voice low and comforting.

You took his hand, grateful for his presence. "I know," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

Akaza studied your face; his eyes were filled with a strange intensity. "I've seen stronger people break," he said, his voice barely audible. "But you... you're different."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his rather cryptic statement. "Oh?"

Akaza hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "Some people," he began, his voice low, "are defined by limitations. Others... they find a way to transcend them."

You didn't know what to make of his cryptic statement.

You simply nodded, grateful for his support.

Akaza chuckled, breaking the tension. “You’re too serious,” he teased. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You look like you could use a break.”

You smiled, and the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“Alright, let’s go.”

As he helped you up, he studied your face, his expression turning serious again. “You’re doing well,” he said softly. “Like what the doctor told you, you’re way stronger than you think.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. As you walked out of the physical therapy room, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The road to recovery was indeed long, but you persevered and made incredible progress.

And as long as you have your friends and family, Muzan, and, believe it or not, people like Akaza by your side, you knew you would eventually find your way back.

Several Years Ago at the Winter Olympics 2018

The ice was your stage, a crystalline expanse where you could lose yourself. Muzan, your fiancé, watched from the stands, his eyes filled with adoration. The crowd roared as you took your final bow, the applause a symphony of admiration. You were in your element, a whirlwind of grace and power.

But then disaster struck.

It happened in an instant—a cruel twist of fate.

As you landed a triple lutz, your skate blade, despite multiple quality checks, betrayed you. It snapped, sending you into an uncontrolled spin. Your body, once so graceful, became a helpless projectile. You felt the ice scrape against your skin as you tumbled, the world a blur of pain and fear.

Muzan watched in horror as you fell. Time seemed to freeze as your body crashed into the ice. A sharp intake of breath escaped his lips. His world narrowed down to you, a blur of white on the unforgiving ice.

Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at his insides.

He leaped over the barrier, his movements a blur. Kneeling beside you, he assessed the damage. Your face was pale, and your eyes closed. A deep gash marred your leg, with blood seeping through the fabric of your costume. His hands trembled as he cradled your head. His voice, usually so calm and commanding, was now a frantic whisper.

"Darling, please wake up," he begged, his voice filled with terror.

"Open your eyes, please, Y/N!"

Panic surged through him as he realized the severity of your injury. The once pristine white of his suit was now marred by the crimson stain of your blood, a stark contrast to the pristine white of the ice.

His voice rose, filled with a desperate urgency.

"Someone help! Get an ambulance! Fucking do something, now!" he shouted, his eyes wide with fear and seething anger.

He frantically searched for a button or a lever—anything to call for help. The crowd's noise seemed to muffle, as if he were underwater.

He scooped you up into his arms, your weight heavy in his arms. The crowd's gasps and cries were a distant echo as he carried you off the ice. His mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and desperation. He had to get you help, and he had to get you help now.

In the ambulance, Muzan held you close, his touch a desperate attempt to reassure you and to reassure himself that this too shall pass, but the metallic smell of your blood, your pale skin, and the way your body trembled in his arms filled him with a cold dread, as did the horrific way you would slip in and out of consciousness. 

*

The days that followed were a blur of pain, surgeries, and endless nights in the hospital. You woke up to find yourself encased in a plaster cast, the once lithe body you knew confined to a hospital bed. The news of your injury sent shockwaves through the world, leaving your fans devastated by the abrupt end to your glittering career.

The doctors were blunt in their assessment. Your career as an ice skater was over. The extent of your injuries, combined with the long recovery process, meant that you would never be able to return to the ice. The news was a devastating blow, and it took a long time to come to terms with it.

Muzan was by your side through it all; his unrelenting and passionate support was a constant in your life. He held your hand through the painful procedures, his presence a comforting anchor.

But the emotional turmoil was immense. The loss of your identity as a skater was a profound shock. The physical pain was a constant reminder of what you had lost, but the emotional pain was even more debilitating. You questioned your worth and your identity.

There were even moments when the darkness consumed you, when the thought of ending it all seemed like the only escape.

But despite everything, you managed to hold on and cling to the hope that things would get better.

And frankly speaking, Muzan didn't let you succumb to despair. He did his very best to show his support for you and his faith in you, and with the help of dedicated therapists, you slowly began to rebuild your life.

It was a long and arduous journey, filled with SO many setbacks and triumphs, but you were able to emerge from the shadows stronger and more resilient than ever before.

*

The car ride home was heavy with silence. You stared out the window, lost in thought. The physical therapy session had been grueling, but it was also a stark reminder of what you had lost. A sudden impulse surged through you.

"Akaza, make a detour," you ordered, your voice firm.

Akaza was startled by your sudden demand. “Where to?” he asked, his voice laced with caution.

“The ice rink,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Akaza hesitated, his mind racing. He knew better than anyone the risks involved. The doctor's warnings echoed in his mind. Yet, he couldn't ignore the determination in your eyes. 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "The doctor said..."

You cut him off. 

"I know, Akaza. And I don't care, so please."

He sighed. He knew arguing with you was futile. With a heavy heart, he turned the steering wheel.

The ice rink was eerily quiet.

The once-vibrant atmosphere was replaced by an eerie stillness. You slipped into your skates, a familiar weight returning to your feet. As you stepped onto the ice, a wave of nostalgia washed over you.

It was here that you had spent countless hours honing your craft, dreaming of standing on the Olympic podium.

Akaza watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding in his chest. He was a mixture of worry and admiration. You were a force of nature, but he couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the back of his mind.

You began to glide, your movements tentative at first. But as you gained confidence, your body seemed to remember the familiar motions. You started to hum the melody of your short program, your movements following the rhythm. It was as if you were reliving a distant memory—a ghost of your former self.

Akaza watched in awe as you executed a series of spins and jumps with surprising ease. It was as if the years of physical therapy had erased the trauma of the accident. But as you attempted a particularly challenging move, your body betrayed you. Fear crept in, and your balance faltered.

You landed with a painful thud, your knees buckling.

Tears streamed down your face as the pain shot through your leg. The physical agony was a stark reminder of your limitations, but it was the emotional pain that truly consumed you. The floodgates of memories opened, overwhelming you. The taste of victory, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of competition—all of it came rushing back, only to be replaced by the bitter reality of your present situation.

You curled up into a ball, your body trembling.

Struggling to tune out the pounding of his heart, Akaza hesitated to rush to your side, and when he was about to, Muzan's voice echoed across the empty ice rink, firm yet still laced with concern.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You looked up; pain and confusion were painted on your face. Muzan knelt beside you, his eyes filled with worry.

"I thought I could do it," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Muzan’s expression hardened. "You could've seriously gotten hurt! And you!" Your husband shot Akaza a glare, his temper flaring uncontrollably.

"What were you thinking, letting this happen? Your job is to keep her safe, and you failed miserably! Do you have any idea how irresponsible this was?!"

Akaza bowed in apology, his face pale. "I'm sorry, sir. I did everything I could—"

Before Akaza could finish, Muzan took a step forward, his fist clenched. "Everything you could? Everything you could?! You're supposed to be her bodyguard, not some useless bystander! Do you even care about her safety? Or are you just pretending to do your job?!"

Akaza flinched, taking a step back. "Sir, please, I—"

Muzan raised his hand as if to strike, his face contorted with rage. "Don't you 'sir' me! If anything happens to her, it's on you! Do you understand that? It's on your head, you worthless—"

"Muzan, stop!" you interjected, your voice firm despite the pain.

"Don't blame Akaza. He did the best he could. I was the one who was stubborn."

Muzan paused, his raised hand trembling, before he slowly lowered it, his eyes still burning with anger. He turned back to you, his frustration now mixed with deep concern.

"All those months of therapy, Y/N. All the pain you’ve endured, thrown out the window just like that? What were you thinking?"

You lowered your gaze, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. Muzan’s words cut deep, but you knew he was right.

Upon seeing you shrink when he raised his voice at you, Muzan’s expression softened immediately.

He sighed heavily.

"You do understand where I am coming from right?" he said as gently as he could. "I completely empathize with you, Y/N; and just like you, I also miss you performing on ice, but you can’t ignore the doctor’s orders. You know how fragile your recovery is. What if you got seriously hurt again?"

You looked away, your heart aching.

"I just miss it," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought I should give it a try, then maybe... I could get a feel of it again. Maybe a miracle would happen." You trailed off, unsure of where the thought was leading you.

Muzan’s eyes softened as he watched your tears fall. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. "Love, I understand the longing; I really do. But we can't rush these things. Your body still needs time to heal."

And then Muzan’s grip tightened around your hand. His voice, stained with pain and frustration.

"Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you lying there on the ice? How many sleepless nights I've endured, haunted by the image of your lifeless body? You risked everything just now—your life, your future, and for what? For a fleeting moment of glory? For old times sake? For a stupid, careless stunt? Do you understand the gravity of your actions?"

Your heart pounded in your chest.

Guilt eating at you by the second.

Muzan rarely raised his voice at you, but when he did, it sent shivers down your spine. At this very moment, you knew he was angry, but you also knew he was speaking from a place of deep love and concern.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Muzan’s expression shifted from frustration to sorrow, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You don't need to apologize, love. I'm just... I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Suddenly, the memory of that dreadful day started playing in his head like a slideshow—the sight of you lying motionless on the ice, the panic in the ambulance, the sleepless nights by your hospital bed. He groaned, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily as the trauma washed over him again. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the haunting images.

"Seeing you in pain, feeling helpless... it tore me apart," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I remember every second of that day, and it still feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from."

Drowning in shame and guilt, all you could ever say at that moment was, "I'm sorry."

He opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression softening as he saw the concern in your eyes. "I know, love. But please, let's not do this again." He paused, his gaze unrelenting.

"I know how much skating means to you, and I promise we'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life. But for now, let's focus on healing."

Akaza nodded in agreement. You looked at them both, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding. "But the doctor said..."

Muzan interrupted gently, "I know what the doctor said, my love. And I respect his opinion. But I won't let that be the final word. We'll explore every option, every specialist, every clinic. We won't stop until we find a way for you to skate again."

Hope flickered in your eyes. "You mean it?"

Muzan nodded resolutely.

"I mean it with all my heart, love. You've dedicated so many years to this already, and I know how much it means to you. But for now, let's focus on healing your body and your spirit. We'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life, I promise. But let's not rush it, okay? Your well-being is my top priority. It should be your priority too."

Eventually, you yielded, but before you could get a word out in response to what your husband just said, tears came falling down your face profusely, and the sight pained both Muzan and Akaza so much.

It was so hard seeing you like this.

Muzan gently pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and protective. He whispered soothing words into your ear, his voice a calming balm to your frayed nerves. "Shhh, it's okay, my love. Let it all out. I'm here for you."

Akaza, who was standing nearby, looked away, giving you and Muzan a moment of privacy. He clenched his fists, his own emotions—a tumultuous mix of anger at the situation and a deep, abiding concern for you.

Muzan brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender.

"You've been so strong, Y/N. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. It's okay to grieve and to be angry. Feel free to use me as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, or even your personal punching bag when you need to let off steam. I'm here for you, always."

You clung to him, the weight of your emotions finally finding an outlet. The tears seemed endless—a torrent of grief and frustration. Your husband held you tighter, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"We will get through this," he murmured. "One step at a time."

After what felt like an eternity, the tears began to subside, leaving you feeling drained but slightly lighter. Muzan pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. "Feeling better?"

You nodded, unable to find the words to express your gratitude and love for him. Muzan kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering as if to impart some of his strength to you.

Muzan then took a deep breath and turned to Akaza, his anger still simmering but under control. "Akaza," he began, his voice tight, "I apologize for lashing out at you earlier. My temper got the best of me, and that was uncalled for."

Akaza bowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "No, sir. It's alright. I deserved to be called out like that."

Muzan clenched his jaw, feeling the lingering frustration. He took a moment to calm himself further before continuing. "However, let me be clear. If something like this happens again, there will be consequences. Your primary duty is to ensure her safety. Don't you ever forget that."

Akaza nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."

Muzan's gaze softened slightly as he regarded Akaza. "Thank you," then he turned to you again and helped you to your feet. 

"Let's get you home," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

*

In the car, the quiet hum of the engine filled the space between you and Muzan. After a few moments of contemplation, you turned to him and broke the silence.

“How did you know I was at the ice rink?”

Akaza cleared his throat, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “I called him,” he confessed, his eyes avoiding yours.

You turned your gaze to Akaza, surprised by his uncharacteristic admission. "You did?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, madam. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Apologies for taking action without consulting you first."

Understanding the weight of his actions and the potential danger Muzan might have faced because of you, guilt washed over you. You turned back to Muzan, remorse clear in your eyes. “Muzan, I’m so sorry. You must have been very busy today, and I even put you in potential danger by rushing to my aid without Kokushibo with you.”

Muzan shook his head, his expression softening as he reached out to take your hand. “Nothing and no one is more important or more special to me in this world than you, Y/N. I would leave everything behind to ensure you’re safe and well, so don’t ever feel guilty for needing me. Besides, I can’t call myself the president of a nation if I can't protect or be there for the people who are closest to me.”

You felt tears welling up again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. “Muzan…”

Muzan gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, then pulled you into a warm embrace, his touch tender and reassuring.

The car settled into a comfortable silence once again, and after a few seconds, you glanced at Akaza, who was focused intently on the road.

“Hakuji, thanks again for today.”

“Hakuji?” Muzan asked, confusion lacing his voice. “Who’s Hakuji?”

In the driver’s seat, Akaza froze, his heart skipping a beat. The sudden use of his real name caught him off guard, and he quickly regained his composure, masking his panic with a carefully controlled expression.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.

How did you...?

Wait.

Have you perhaps, by any chance, finally–

“That’s me, sir. Hakuji is my real name; Akaza is just a nickname a relative gave me when I was a kid.”

“I see,” Muzan said, his tone shifting to a more measured curiosity. “You refer to yourself as Akaza to everyone? I don’t recall this being disclosed during your application.”

Akaza flashed a sheepish smile, though it did little to hide the tension in his eyes. “Yes, sir. I’ve used Akaza for most of my life, but I’m fine with Hakuji as well.”

Muzan studied Akaza with a penetrating gaze, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere.

“Very well,” he said finally, his voice a mix of intrigue and skepticism. 

The drive continued in relative silence, the weight of the recent events settling around the car like a tangible fog. You leaned against Muzan, comforted by his presence, while Akaza focused on the road, his mind racing with the implications of his slip.

When the car finally arrived at your home, Muzan helped you out with a gentle hand, his concern still evident in his eyes. While you were still traveling back, you asked your husband how he got to the ice rink, and apparently he drove there by himself, and because he accompanied you in your car with Akaza, his car was left at the ice rink parking lot. Muzan assured you that he would have Gyokko retrieve it first thing in the morning.

As you walked towards the entrance, you glanced back at Akaza, who had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You can rest now, Hakuji. Thank you, and I'm sorry too."

Akaza shook his head and smiled gently before bowing. "Don't worry about me, madam. Please rest well."

Muzan took the liberty to officially dismiss Akaza for the night and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze softening. “Let’s get you settled. We’ve had a long day.”

*

Akaza slammed his bedroom door shut, his mind racing. He had been waiting for this moment—a sign, a confirmation. He leaned against the door, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins was intoxicating.

This was it.

The opportunity he had been waiting for.

A chance to rewrite his destiny and prove his worth.

But he had to be careful and meticulous. One wrong move could jeopardize everything. He took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

It was time to put his plan into action.

He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a small, leather-bound notebook. It was a relic from his past, a journal filled with cryptic codes and half-formed plans. He opened it to a blank page and began to write. The pen moved swiftly across the paper, his thoughts flowing onto the page.

A plan was forming—a dangerous and intricate one, but it was a plan nonetheless.

-

taglist: @bffrrufr @unadulteratedhandsbanditdreamer @unlikelybananawerewolf

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Sukuna, funny, "You seem really thirsty, have you considered drinking water?"🌶️please🫶

Oh man, idk why but I really struggled with this one! I think it's cause I always get in my head and worry that you guys won't vibe with my comedy?? I don't know. BUT in the end, I'm happy with the result!

Now Presenting...

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, and a reader that just wants to know peace

Sukuna leaned back in the natural hot springs, closing his eyes and letting the warm water relax his sore muscles. He hated it here. The hot water made the oppressive, muggy summer air even more suffocating, and the open nature of the hot springs left him vulnerable to attack. But supposedly, emphasis on supposedly, the water had a healing property. It was supposed to mend his wounds, give him more energy, a longer life, amazing head, or some shit like that. This water was supposed to be God's gift to man according to the village's religious radicals, but so far the only thing it was giving Sukuna was heat stroke. 

"Oh, I'm sorry My Lord, I didn't think you'd be here," a familiar voice said. Sukuna slowly opened his eyes and let a grin slip. Before him stood his favorite concubine. Maybe this spring could do good on one of its promises after all. "May I join you?" You asked.

"You may." Ryomen said, his eyes burning into you as you dropped your robe. Sukuna had seen your naked form countless times before, and every time excited him more than the last. You were beautiful, more breathtaking than any mere mortal had any right to be. And you were all his. Who wouldn't be excited about that? He watched your every movement like a hawk: the way you slowly lowered yourself into the water, how your chest puffed out when you went to stretch your shoulders, and the glimmer in your eye when you caught him staring. 

"Enjoying the show?" You asked. 

"Isn't that joke a little over done?" He asked back, tilting his head like a lost puppy. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

"Ok, fine then, be like that. I just won't banter with you anymore" you shrugged, playfully sticking your tongue out at him 

"You should put that tongue back in your mouth before I give you something to do with it." Sukuna warned, raising an eyebrow to prove the point. 

"I can't tell if that's a threat or an invention to be honest," you confessed, throwing his expression back at him. He shrugged in return. 

"I'm waiting to find out which one it is myself." He admitted

"Well keep waiting." You scoffed, "I'm here to get clean, not harassed by a pervert."

"Why not do both?" 

"Because I get enough of the latter at the temple I live at. The lord of the place is obsessed with me," you faux bragged, "every time he sees me he has to put his hands on me in some way, or his cock inside me."

"He sounds like a great guy." Sukuna grinned, "he has great taste in women, I bet he's smart too. And handsome and-"

"Deeply annoying." You cut him off before he could get too full of himself. "He's an arrogant bastard with zero control of his temper. Honestly, I'm shocked he hasn't killed me yet." To be fair, Sukuna was shocked he hadn't killed you yet too. He'd thought about it, countless times. Hell, he was thinking about it right now. But, something about you was too endearing to him for him to actually go through with the act.

“With a mouth like that, I’m shocked too. You must be a phenomenal lay.” In theory, that was Sukuna dolling out one of his rare compliments, though, the tone of voice had the edge of an insult to it. Not being really sure how to respond, you focused on your original goal: bathing and relaxing. You cupped your hands under the water, bringing it up and letting it flow over your head and limbs. You could feel scarlet eyes studying your body as you did so, watching the way spring trickled down the curves of your body. You looked over at the king of curses, and was positive that this is what a mouse felt like once an owl decided it was for dinner.

“You look thirsty!” You said, trying to take your nerve back, “Have you considered drinking any water?”

“No actually, I haven’t.” Sukuna said, swimming over to you. He brushed a lock of your wet hair behind your ear, sending cool shivers down your spine, “It’s a good idea though.”

“Thanks, I thought of it all by myself.” you beamed. He couldn’t help but smirk back as he took your hips in his hands, pulling you closer to him.

“Did you now?” he hummed, “Well in that case, I have to try it.” He picked you up under the water and rested you on his hips, prompting you to wrap your legs around him. You already weighed next to nothing to him, but thanks to the water you might as well have been made of air. His lips found your collar bone. He ran his tongue up your neck, lapping up the water that was dripping down it.

Which…was quite frankly unsanitary as hell, and definitely not recommended. But I mean, He was a curse so, what did he have to fear from doing that? Dying? Hardly. And besides, the little sounds you made as he left his mark on you made it worth it. You felt his teeth dig into you, right where your jaw met your neck, and felt the subsequent bruise bloom there. You tangled your fingers into his fluffy pink hair, tugging softly as you happily accepted his affections. He moved the two of you to the edge of the water, and laid you down on the bank, spreading your legs nice and pretty for him.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve been alone, “ Sukuna noted, placing a villainously gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“I mean, we're technically not alone now,” You reminded him, never having been one to hold your tongue, “Anyone could walk up on us at any moment.”

“Good.” Sukuna chuckled, “I hope they do.” Before you could say anything smart, Ryomen ran his tongue along your slit and to your clit, sucking sharply at the bundle of nerves. You yelped in response, both hands finding his hair again as pleasure coursed through you. His mouth sent electric ripples of pleasure through you, turning you into putty in his hands. 

“Fu-fuck me..” You muttered softly, only for annoyance to fill you as he removed his head from in between your thighs. 

“Really, that fast?” He asked, attempting to move up your body. Key word, attempting as you very quickly pushed him back down.

“Oh no, you’re not done down there yet.”

“But you said-!”

“Get to work!” you demanded. Ryomen rolled his eyes, trying to hide his chuckle as he resettled in between your legs. Any other woman would have been slaughtered for such disrespect, but you knew you were special; and you had no intention of using that power for good. Ryomen worked quicker this time, licking his initials into your clit while two of his long fingers slipped inside you, quickly finding your g-spot. Molten heat pooled in your stomach with every movement from him, building up into an inferno of bliss and desire. 

“Fuck Ryo-!” You tried to warn him, but pleasure overtook you before you could, a volcano erupting inside of you spreading hellfire and ecstasy through every corner of your body. Your legs clamped down around Ryomens head, locking him in place. Not that he was complaining, he gladly ate you out though your climax, feeling the way your thighs trembled around his temples. You gushed into his mouth, filling his senses with nothing but you. Yea, he couldn't really breath super well, but that was fine with him. Really, what better way to die than in between the legs of a beautiful woman?

Before he could make peace with whatever higher power he was about to meet though, your legs went limp. Jagged breaths raked through your body, leaving you shaking like a leaf. You looked adorable like that, vulnerable and dazed from pleasure. He pulled you back into the water with him, bracing you on his hips. 

“Feel good, slut?” He asked, already positioning you over his cock. 

“So good..” You muttered, bracing yourself for what you knew was next, “You did a good job, like eight outta ten.”

“Well, you- wait, only eight?!” He was so genuinely offended by the number you had to laugh at him.

“That’s what I said,” You shrugged, “You’ve done better.”

“I’ll show you better,” He growled, lowering you into his thick cock. Your body tensed at the feeling, and the tight sound you let out was a little more than embarrassing. “Let's go for a perfect score this time.” He chuckled. You dug your nails deep into his shoulders as he nestled himself inside of you, stretching you to your very brink. No matter how many times you took Sukuna, it always felt like the first, and it always made you feel dizzy with pleasure. 

“You feel so fucking good,” He groaned, bucking his hips up into you, perfectly stroking your g-spot, “It’s almost like you were made to be my cocksleeve.” he set a punishing pace, using the water to help bounce you on him. It reawakened your previously fried nerves, making you feel alive with electricity. A coil started to quickly form in your stomach, your overly sensitive body treating every tingle it felt like an explosion. You moaned out his name. Or at least you were pretty sure you did. Honestly, your senses were kinda hazy right now, the only thing that felt real was the cock absolutely punishing your insides.

“You were a lot of talk before slut, what happened?” Sukuna mocked, “What happened? Nothing left to say.”

“Fuck you.” You moaned out.

“You are.” Sukuna noted. He could feel his own climax coming on fast. You were warm, and the way your cunt pulled him in made him feel feral. He had to do something quick, because he’d be damned if he came before you did. You screamed as you felt a warm tongue lap at your clit, the new stimulation sending you into overdrive. You looked down into the clear water to see he opened another mouth. It was an obscene display. 

“Enjoying the show?” Sukuna laughed. You growled as you bit down on his neck, which only added fuel to his fire. 

“You're gonna have to bite harder than that to leave a mark Y/n.” he said, punctuated with a particularly rough thrust. It sent you overboard, spiraling head first into bliss. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and your blood felt like it was made of smoke. You felt light as wave after wave of euphoria overtook you, pulling you under the sea of endorphins.

Sukuna wasn’t far behind. The clenching of your cunt coupled with the way your teeth sank into him brought him over, cumming deep inside of you. He fucked you through both of your highs, drawing your pleasure out for every seconds he could. In the aftermath he leaned against the bank of the spring, holding you close to his chest while you regained the strength to walk back to the temple. 

“So how was that?” Suluna asked, running his claws through your hair. You laughed a bit and nodded.

“Nine out of ten.”

“Nine?!”