softforsukuna

[softforsukuna]

i love u

Chrome & Curses

I am sleep deprived, used all my brain power on college assignments and this rn is the best i can do. i present biker! sukuna x fae(?) reader. no one knows if shes human, even i dont. fluff/crack fic.

tw: a corpse i think(is this even a tw)

word count: at least 3

• ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──── •

Sukuna had seen things. Cursed spirits, bloodied battlegrounds, the inside of a man’s skull (twice). Nothing shocked him anymore.

Until you.

He spotted you while speeding down the winding road outside the city, the scent of smoke and iron in his nose. You were in the middle of the lane, squinting at a squirrel like it was revealing the secrets of the universe. Your dress looked like it was made from tablecloths and stardust. Your hair was tangled in wildflowers. And your socks had clouds on them. Clouds.

He swerved hard, tire screaming against asphalt, stopping inches away from you. Helmet off, eyes blazing, tattoos writhing slightly with leftover rage — he was ready to unleash hell.

You tilted your head. “Oh. Are you a fire spirit?”

“…What?”

“Because you’ve got the vibe.”

He didn’t reply. Mostly because he was silently recalibrating his entire reality.

You introduced yourself like you were at a garden tea party, not nearly roadkill. And then you reached out and gently touched one of his tattoos like it was a butterfly, gasping in delight. “Ooooh, this one’s angry. Do they all have names?”

He didn’t punch you. That was the first clue he was in trouble.

Within a week, he’s picked you up from a “moss gathering” expedition, where you accidentally wandered into a biker bar and asked a man twice your size if he was a tree. Sukuna had to break a pool cue in half and growl something vaguely demonic to get you out of there.

You thanked him by putting stickers on his gas tank. (They're still there.)

You baked him cookies you swore were from a family recipe, but he’s 80% sure they were just mushrooms, glitter, and hope. He ate three.

He’s convinced you’re a fae. Not metaphorically. Genuinely. There is no way a human could survive the modern world with the amount of bewildered whimsy you exude. You don’t know what a QR code is. You think gas stations are “tiny spell shops.” Once, you offered a cop a pinecone “in trade.”

And yet…

He’s smitten. Not the slow, creeping kind. The crash-into-you-at-100-km/h kind.

Sukuna now:

* Teaches you how crosswalks work like a grumpy jungle guide.

* Hangs crystal charms from his handlebars because “they keep your aura clear.”

* Absolutely murders anyone who so much as looks at you sideways, then scowls as you hand the corpse a flower crown “for their next life.”

* Rides out to weird groves and forgotten shrines because you said the “trees there whisper funny.”

You, in turn, believe in him. Entirely. Without hesitation. You pat his terrifying tattoos like they're shy kittens. You call his curses “his little friends.” You talk to his bike like it’s alive (he’s starting to suspect… maybe it is, now).

One night, as you both sit by a campfire in the woods — you humming to the stars, him sharpening a blade for “reasons” — you curl up in his lap, tiny and warm, and murmur sleepily:

“You’re not so scary. I think you’re just… a thundercloud who forgot how to rain.”

And that’s the moment Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, Toppled God of Wrath and Leather, realizes:

He’s doomed.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[softforsukuna]

Chrome & Curses

I am sleep deprived, used all my brain power on college assignments and this rn is the best i can do. i present biker! sukuna x fae(?) reader. no one knows if shes human, even i dont. fluff/crack fic.

tw: a corpse i think(is this even a tw)

word count: at least 3

• ──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──── •

Sukuna had seen things. Cursed spirits, bloodied battlegrounds, the inside of a man’s skull (twice). Nothing shocked him anymore.

Until you.

He spotted you while speeding down the winding road outside the city, the scent of smoke and iron in his nose. You were in the middle of the lane, squinting at a squirrel like it was revealing the secrets of the universe. Your dress looked like it was made from tablecloths and stardust. Your hair was tangled in wildflowers. And your socks had clouds on them. Clouds.

He swerved hard, tire screaming against asphalt, stopping inches away from you. Helmet off, eyes blazing, tattoos writhing slightly with leftover rage — he was ready to unleash hell.

You tilted your head. “Oh. Are you a fire spirit?”

“…What?”

“Because you’ve got the vibe.”

He didn’t reply. Mostly because he was silently recalibrating his entire reality.

You introduced yourself like you were at a garden tea party, not nearly roadkill. And then you reached out and gently touched one of his tattoos like it was a butterfly, gasping in delight. “Ooooh, this one’s angry. Do they all have names?”

He didn’t punch you. That was the first clue he was in trouble.

Within a week, he’s picked you up from a “moss gathering” expedition, where you accidentally wandered into a biker bar and asked a man twice your size if he was a tree. Sukuna had to break a pool cue in half and growl something vaguely demonic to get you out of there.

You thanked him by putting stickers on his gas tank. (They're still there.)

You baked him cookies you swore were from a family recipe, but he’s 80% sure they were just mushrooms, glitter, and hope. He ate three.

He’s convinced you’re a fae. Not metaphorically. Genuinely. There is no way a human could survive the modern world with the amount of bewildered whimsy you exude. You don’t know what a QR code is. You think gas stations are “tiny spell shops.” Once, you offered a cop a pinecone “in trade.”

And yet…

He’s smitten. Not the slow, creeping kind. The crash-into-you-at-100-km/h kind.

Sukuna now:

* Teaches you how crosswalks work like a grumpy jungle guide.

* Hangs crystal charms from his handlebars because “they keep your aura clear.”

* Absolutely murders anyone who so much as looks at you sideways, then scowls as you hand the corpse a flower crown “for their next life.”

* Rides out to weird groves and forgotten shrines because you said the “trees there whisper funny.”

You, in turn, believe in him. Entirely. Without hesitation. You pat his terrifying tattoos like they're shy kittens. You call his curses “his little friends.” You talk to his bike like it’s alive (he’s starting to suspect… maybe it is, now).

One night, as you both sit by a campfire in the woods — you humming to the stars, him sharpening a blade for “reasons” — you curl up in his lap, tiny and warm, and murmur sleepily:

“You’re not so scary. I think you’re just… a thundercloud who forgot how to rain.”

And that’s the moment Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, Toppled God of Wrath and Leather, realizes:

He’s doomed.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[softforsukuna]

˚₊‧₊˚✧༚♡༄ Masterlist ˚₊‧₊˚✧༚♡༄

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ all my little works live here so you don’t have to scroll forever ♡

⋆｡°☁︎｡˚ REMINDER: english isn’t my first language + i post like a ghost sometimes ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

꒰ 🍓 Ryomen Sukuna ꒱

𖦹 Gentle Hands ⋆₊˚

𖦹 Under the Blossom ⋆₊˚

𖦹 Take My Heart. It’s Already So Full of You ⋆₊˚

⸝⸝𓂃💌 more to come whenever the curse king allows ⋆˙⟡♡

[softforsukuna]

Take my heart. It’s already so full of you.

Situationship with Sukuna turned into something more. Fwb! Sukuna x gn! reader, heart tearing fluff, in my poet era.

• ───�� ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──── •

It was a slow, melancholy evening — the kind that clung to the bones. The sky above was a canvas of smudged charcoal, thick clouds sagging low as though mourning something unsaid. Even the light seemed hesitant, filtering in muted and gray through the curtains like a memory trying not to fade.

You lay draped across the couch, your limbs languid, surrendered to the hush of the moment. Your head rose and fell with the rhythm of Sukuna’s chest, a quiet metronome beneath your cheek, grounding you like an anchor in the fog.

The television flickered in silence before you, casting ghostly shadows on the walls — actors moving, speaking, living in a world that neither of you were truly in.

Sleep tugged at your consciousness like a tide, warm and slow. But it wasn’t just sleepiness. It was safety. A strange, unfamiliar comfort in the way his fingers idly traced through your hair. Not hurried, not distracted, but reverent, almost like he was afraid you’d vanish if he stopped.

There were no words. Words would’ve shattered it. Whatever this was — fragile and blooming, it could only survive in quiet.

You shifted, a slight motion, barely more than a sigh. Your hand found his, as if drawn by something ancient, some invisible thread woven long before tonight. Your fingers brushed his — tentative, testing, before curling gently around his pinky.

He didn’t look at you.

He didn’t need to.

His palm turned in a slow, fluid motion, inviting your hand into his like a secret passed in candlelight. His thumb found the soft skin at the back of your hand, traced it once, like he was memorizing something sacred. And then — a pause. The briefest one. A hesitation that said more than a soliloquy ever could.

Outside, the wind whispered through the trees like it, too, carried secrets. The sky pressed against the windows. Somewhere, the world kept spinning.

But in here — in the hush between your breaths time itself held its breath.

His touch was not possessive, not dramatic, but sure. As if in that simple act — the linking of fingers, the cradling of hands, he had made a decision he couldn’t bring himself to voice. And you, silent still, answered with the softening of your grip, the way your body melted deeper into him, like exhaling into a home you hadn’t realized you were building together.

The space between you was no longer liminal.

Something shifted. Not loudly, not all at once — but irrevocably. A line crossed in silence. A question answered in the stillness. A beginning that had no ceremony, only a heartbeat and a breath and two hands, tangled gently beneath the dim flicker of a forgotten movie.

When your eyes finally closed and you let sleep take you, it was with the rare, exquisite knowing that some things — the most important things  don’t need to be spoken to be true.

And Sukuna, who always spoke in thorns and armor, said nothing.

But he held your hand like it meant everything.

[softforsukuna]

Under the blossom.

trueform! sukuna x servant! reader where he won’t let you go pee. slight comedy(?)

Golden sunlight trickled through the pink cherry blossoms, warming the sacred garden of Sukuna’s shrine. Beneath a sprawling old tree, the King of Curses himself sprawled lazily across your lap, fully in his imposing true form: seven feet of arrogance, four powerful arms—two wrapped possessively around your waist—and intricate black markings standing stark against his toned skin.

His short salmon-pink hair felt unexpectedly soft beneath your fingertips as you gently brushed through it, careful not to disturb him. But your peaceful reverie was abruptly cut short by an all-too-human predicament.

"Master Sukuna," you murmured gently, carefully shaking his shoulder. "I really must get up." Crimson eyes flickered open slowly, irritation evident. "You dare disturb my rest?"

You shifted uneasily, smiling awkwardly. "Forgive me, Master. But, well...nature calls."

He arched a dark, amused eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Nature may wait."

"Respectfully, Master, nature isn't being very patient today," you chuckled lightly, attempting to lift yourself again, only to be tugged firmly back down into place.

Sukuna glowered up at you, the sleepy irritation softening into a petulant pout. "You are warm. I refuse to move."

"But, Master," you pleaded, half laughing, half desperate, "unless you want a damp servant—"

He interrupted you with a sharp, yet amused glare. "You wouldn’t dare."

"Not intentionally," you admitted sheepishly, cheeks flushing. "But even your favorite servant has mortal limitations."

He gave an exaggerated sigh, closing his eyes again as though the matter was settled, holding you even tighter with two stubborn arms. "Quiet now, little one. Your mortal needs bore me."

You sighed, smiling fondly at the impossible curse in your lap, resigning yourself to discomfort.

"Yes, Master," you murmured obediently, though a teasing smirk played upon your lips. "But if I ruin your robes, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself~."

[softforsukuna]

Gentle hands.

Sukuna x afab! reader, domesticAU!, Sukuna is being soft and gentle, period fic bc i started mine today and im in too much pain ://

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The rain tapped softly against the bedroom window as Sukuna shifted carefully beside you, mindful not to jostle your aching body. Despite his usual fierce demeanor and sharp tongue, tonight he was quiet, tender, and attentive. 

A faint grimace twisted your features as another wave of cramps seized your abdomen. Immediately, Sukuna’s strong hand slid across your stomach, gently pressing warmth into your skin. 

"Easy there," he whispered, his usually rough voice surprisingly soft. His breath brushed against your neck, soothing and warm. 

"I’m sorry," you muttered weakly, shifting against him. 

"Don't be ridiculous," he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss to the back of your head. "I've seen you face worse than this, little warrior." 

He tightened his hold around you, fingers tracing lazy, comforting circles on your stomach. His touch felt like magic, melting away the pain bit by bit. In these quiet moments, the feared King of Curses was nothing but yours—softened by the sheer force of his love for you. 

You sighed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "I love when you're like this." 

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your back. "Only for you, my love," he whispered earnestly. "Always, only for you." 

As sleep pulled gently at your consciousness, Sukuna’s heartbeat steadied beneath your palm, slow and reassuring. The King of Curses held his queen close, fierce in his devotion, tender in his love.

[softforsukuna]

oughgh my bed… ohohib boy my bed..

[softforsukuna]

[softforsukuna]

More beautiful tiles, every single one of these please

[softforsukuna]

Touching grass is not enough; I need to travel far over the misty mountains cold.

[softforsukuna]

i love you frankenstein i love you gothic literature i love you mary shelley i love you stories about wretched creatures who wouldn't be so wretched if only they were loved i love you adam lucifer prometheus frankenstein i love you thy godlike crime was to be kind i love you i love you i love you

[softforsukuna]

they just don’t make romcoms like this anymore

[softforsukuna]

I just think they’re neat

[softforsukuna]

*decides to go off instagram to study*

*opens tumblr*

[softforsukuna]

Dark Academia REALISTIC Study Tips :

You think Dark Academia can only exist in fictions and movies? You're welcome for this post then.

Light up your favourite candle, or put on the sound of soft rain or piano music.

Make small notes above the lines of your book, write down your observations in the margins.

Write and rewrite your notes if that's what helps you learn, in a dark loopy handwriting, not caring if it's messy.

Have questions. Question what you're reading and strike up a conversation with your professor about it.

If that doesn't quench your thirst for knowledge, pour over the books in the library or research on your laptop at late night.

Read. Read. Read. Because dark academia is all about gaining knowledge. Read the books on your shelf that you haven't read before.

Search up funny facts or secrets about romantic poets or mythological figures and share them.

Have a group of friends who are interested in discussing literature or debating over ancient theories over a cup of coffee.

Romanticize studying to help you get in the mood, get dressed up and imagine that you're doing research for your secret poetic society.

Change your environment of studying. Take a walk and read your books on a meadow during sunset or write your essays in the cozy corner of your favourite cafe.

Try to read up materials before your professor teaches them and answer all the questions in class, enjoy being a know-it-all.

Record yourself explaining a certain topic that you've studied recently and pretend as if you're teaching someone.

Take book recs from pinterest, tumblr, your friends and professors and write them on the messy palm of your hand.

Make your notes funny. Use swear words and innuendos if that's what helps you remember. Just enjoy learning.

[softforsukuna]

women reading mb (bc i love women. and reading.)

darren thompson / laura lacambra shubert / fongwei liu 

[softforsukuna]

Study smartly while working hard :

Hello again ,

Most of us wanted to study hard and smart but can't choose between them .

So here's some tips to study effectively without thinking that you're lacking in study or work.

1. Organise your day :

Isn't feeling like hearing from many places , yes , it is . Cause day organizing is the most important thing in our daily productive routine. And if you get time at night then it's best to make tomorrow's to-do list .

2. Study the topic and basic concept first :

Topic study is important and if you want to be A+ student then firstly study the topic . It's experienced thing from me . Cause from rereading topic your basic concept will be clear and after concept clearing you will become straight A + student.

3. Active recall :

Active recall means what you have studied reread it or solve it again . Rereading or also called as revising is the best technique to study ever. When you sit for your revising session and seem a already readed chapter then you can do best at academics .

Scientifically proven that when you recall something your brain start effective working and neurons become active and it will help to increase brain functioning.

4. Pomodoro technique :

what is pomodoro technique..? Let's start , pomodoro technique means study for the 40 minute straight and then take 10 minute break . At this time you can break your work in pieces and get the better results. In pomodoro there is 80-20 rule and 40-10 rule you can follow any time rule which is good for your study , to complete a assignment . But I think you have start firstly with 60 minute i.e. 40-10 rule.

5. Making self notes:

Making notes while studying is also important cause you will get what is your point of view to look at that point and your study'll be effective. Notes doesn't means cheat sheets or flashcards ,it means important point that you need . Only that point that you can study later or at exam time in less time or at less power wasting on finding it in book .

Lastly I would like to say that please make your own study timetable and do follow it . If flashcards are effective for you then use it. In my case I don't find it effective so make your own choice for study .

Best luck 😇👍

https://youtube.com/channel/UCBP-5_W_U_ylnzsj5gjzQkA