Sakuya Ship Week 2023 Fics!

Day 1 (Firsts | Lasts | Forever) - BanSaku 🦊🌸 hold you close

Day 2 (Heatwave | Fireworks | Melted) - MadaSaku 🤠🌸 hand in hand

Day 3 (Selfish desires | Words unsaid | Misunderstandings) - JuSaku 🍡🌸 not today, maybe tomorrow

Day 4 (Restless nights | Everyday life) - TaiSaku 🛹🌸 alien and squirrel

(gonna edit this post whenever i post the fics!)

You spin my head around (like a record)

summary: hobie never believed in throwing his money away to useless big corporations. but, when you started working at his favorite record shop, he decided to make a small exception. warnings: slight flirting, terrible british a/n: i love this idea so so much and have many ideas for it so if you want a part 2 let me know!!!

If there was one thing hobie hated most, it was capitalism. Having to spend money on things you didn’t need but were marketed in a way that made you feel like you needed them, pissed him off to no end. Especially when it came to big corporations. He didn’t see the purpose of having to feed these ‘money-hungry pigs’, which would only end up causing harm to everything and everyone that got in their way. The only exception was small businesses. He never gave his money away on anything unless he desperately needed it, but that wasn’t often. Until it came to you.

There was a particular record shop in the middle of the city that he occasionally visited. Mainly because it was the only one near him that actually had his favorite artists. – which were rarely sold due to how ‘underground’ they were. Don’t get me wrong, he liked his fair share of mainstream, popular artists, he just also liked his fair share of small garage punk bands. The kind of small bands you’d find playing at your local pub. But, the point is: that specific record shop was the only one he actually liked. But, that didn’t change his hatred for capitalism. Which meant he wasn’t shy to ‘borrow’ a few cd’s, or vinyls from that shop. Actually, he hadn’t once paid for anything, and he’d never once been caught. That’s just how things were. He’d never planned to feed into society’s corrupt ideations. Never. He would continue to visit that record shop whenever he pleased, but never once considered buying anything. That is, until a new employee started working there.

They were perfect. The living embodiment of utter perfection. Every time Hobie entered the shop he was greeted by a sweet smile from behind the till. Everything that person did drove Hobie crazy. - in the best way imaginable. That person was you. You’d only recently gotten the job, around a few weeks ago. It was simple enough, but it definitely was not your dream job. You only got it because you needed the money, even though the pay was barely enough to get you going for the week, it was something! Despite never once having a proper conversation, Hobie knew he liked you. From your genuine, unrelenting kindness, to your style. He was fond of everything you did. And before he knew it, his occasional visits turned to him visiting whenever he could. Not because he wanted to actually buy anything, but because he wanted to see you. Any chance he got, he would rush straight over to you. It got to a point where he had memorised when you were working and when you weren’t. And now, here he was.

“Are you actually gonna pay this time?” you asked him, familiar with his habit of pocketing cd’s and vinyls and then leaving. You never did anything about it for many reasons. One of which was because you did not get paid enough to deal with it. And also, because he was insanely attractive. He laughed. Not like an actual laugh. But, a small exhale, similar to scoffing. “Maybe I am,” he said, handing you the vinyl. You smiled at him and scanned the record, noticing the familiar album cover. “Oh sex pistols!” you exclaimed, mentally taking note of how his music taste was almost as beautiful as he was. “You’ve got good taste.” you said, before putting the record in a bag. You didn’t notice how he lit up at the sudden compliment; freaking out on the inside, but playing it off well. “You listen to ‘em?” he asked, his heavy accent now very prominent. Your smile never once faltered as you looked back at him. “I love them!” you said. You began to hum the tune to one of their songs, doing a dramatic little dance, which earned a small laugh from him. “You know… It’s surprising that you’re actually buying something for once.” you commented, jokingly but also genuinely. He tilted his head to the side in response. “Oh yeah? How so?”  he leaned against the till, hands in his pockets as he talked with you. “Well, I see you here all the time. - Almost every time I'm working, actually. And - I guess I kinda got used to you wandering around and then leaving. It’s kind of weird how this is the first time I’ve heard your voice.” you laughed, and his lips quirked up in a small, almost unnoticeable smile. “What’s wrong with havin’ a look around?” his voice was low, and he spoke innocently. Despite the both of you knowing he was anything but innocent. “We both know you’ve been having a bit more than a look around.” you said, in reference to the many times you’d seen him ‘borrowing’ a few cd’s. He laughed this time. In truth, he cherished this moment. As it had been the first time he’d heard your voice. You were sweet, funny, and apparently had good music taste. All three of those traits were almost impossible to be found in the people Hobie had met. There was just something about you that was so different from everything else. So unique and-

“That’ll be 24.99” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 24.99? He repeated in his head, confused. He could’ve sworn that the price tag said 30? Had you given him a discount? For literally the first time ever, he handed the money to you and paid. He regretted a lot of things, but getting to talk to you was not one of them. You handed him the bag and smiled at him once more. Hobie then realised this would probably be the only time he’d ever interact with you again. In a panic, he spoke up again. “D’ya wanna spend time together after this? We could maybe listen t’the record? See if it was worth th’money?” While the usual confidence in his voice remained, there were hints of hesitation laced under his words. “I’d love to!” you exclaimed, blatantly happy. He smiled, now exposing his teeth. “Lovely.”

“I almost forgot–here’s my number!” you pulled out a pen from your pocket and wrote your phone number on the paper bag that you put his vinyl in; trying to make it as neat and legible as possible. Once you were happy with it, you handed it back to him. “I get off work at 6. Call me then and we can organise something, yeah?” you offered, to which he nodded. “It’s a date.” he said, and winked before turning around and exiting the shop; the jingling of the door suddenly sounded way happier than it usually did. Maybe your new job wasn’t so bad after all.

hey pookie just wanted to let u know my requests are opennn and you wanna request something sooooo badly so why don't you just go over there and send one in thanks love u hope you liked that little fic

here are all the recs I posted for femslash february 2024...! each individual rec post can be found in my femslash feb recs tag. I actually thought I wasn't going to be able to do this because work got super chaotic, but in the end I couldn't bear to skip out on a leap year. that's a whole extra day for yuri.

last year I focused on official releases, so this year I wanted to focus on series that aren't technically officially available (plus a french-japanese film). fan translations are always a dicey for artists/translators/publishers/etc because obviously they need to get paid... but yuri's already such an overlooked genre that—in an official capacity—we end up with a couple drops from what's already a pretty small pool. I read hana to hoshi about a decade ago, and I keep submitting it to the seven seas survey for licensure! and yet!! no dice. and even when there are official releases, sometimes they just... disappear!? wish you were gone was licensed and then taken down, so for a while the only way to read it (if you missed out on buying it) was the fan translation. I think it's important to support artists and official releases, and also, to appreciate the thankless endeavor(/crime) of scanlation.

hope yall find something you like!

Happy Side Order release day everyone

Sometimes all it takes is champagne and a slow dance, and then there's no going back.

desiderium

—inspired by an old prompt for Slug Club + "Dare I ask why you're so well behaved tonight?" | friends-to-lovers PWP | rated E 🌹 Read on AO3.

After re-watching the new Blue Exorcist anime episode (ep.4) I can't stop thinking about how this arc should have been adapted soo many years sooner. it came out 10 years ago. And THIS is the true quality writing this series is known for and what truly pushes fans into really getting into it. Yes, this series is a slow burn/in-for-the-long-haul and the waiting always pays off tremendously, but I still believe it should not have taken THIS long for it to be adapted into an anime.

And it just sucks. It sucks even more that even the biggest anime-only fan's sole interaction with this series was nothing more than the mere introductory premise and never got to the true plot of this series for over than a decade since the first season. I can't help but pity them, at least in the manga it took around 5(?) years for this arc to start, it should not have taken any longer than that after the kyoto saga adaptation imo.

This series has soo much to say with so many stories left unexplored in the anime and yet the wider anime community still calls it "mid" based off the shitty non-canon season 1 ending that unfortunately left everyone with false impressions of this series. It says A LOT how the majority of people who have read the manga agrees it's phenomenal, miles better than the anime.

And it just frustrates me because Blue Exorcist could have still kept up the huge audience and the reputation & recognition it deserves for it's level of quality writing, especially for shonen. Instead of bearing the fate of its audience whittling away over the years due to the anime's mistreatment and the only fans remaining are the loyal manga fans. This series deserved better treatment years ago, but late is better than never.

February has the air of love that breathes tragedy.

Abhilasha

"Juza!"

At that, the oni throws himself to the ground as a great beam of luminescent blue flames making the reanimated carcasses into dust. From dust they came, and to dust they will return. Once the hellfire was over, Juza quickly stands up and continues taking down the zombies with sheer strength. Sakuya doesn't back down with his reaper fire.

Though Sakuya's attacks are coming less often from how long he's been fighting, they are still able to fend off the carcasses. Well, at least, neither of them are injured. Just incredibly tired. Fighting a horde of zombies was not on the list of chores today. It just so happened that everyone else wasn't in the dorrms, and they could go all out.

But it was really getting tiring. Bit by bit, the zombies close them in a circle. Juza pants from sheer exhaustion, muscles twitching from overuse. Sakuya's hands almost seems to have soot on them. It's only now that the smell of burning hair and flesh makes itself apparent. Even to an oni like Juza, it just smelled awful.

It's going to be a pain to wash everything off, Juza thinks. He lightly nudges Sakuya. "Think ya can still fight?"

"...Y-Yeah." The reaper pants, letting blue flames coat his hand. His eyes begin to glow red, and so does Juza's electric yellow eyes. He can feel energy filling his veins agains. "Let's finish this."

"Ye—"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY, YOU PIECES OF SHIT!"

It wasn't even a warning. It was just an angry yell from a familiar voice, right as sounds of flesh hitting metal enter their ears. The revving of a motorcycle follows. The sounds of the vechile hitting the pavement fills the air, along with the metal falling to the ground.

Help, perhaps?

"...What the hell is this?"

Juza throws a carcass to the side, as Sakuya blasts a group of them with flames. Once the decaying body is thrown aside, he meets eyes with a confused Banri. Even if he did help by ramming down the bodies, he seemed to have no idea what the hell was even going on.

"...Zombies?"

"...Did you just ram down those zombies with a traffic sign and a motorcycle...?" Sakuya asks, absolutely mortified. At this juncture, he'd usually start scolding Banri for putting himself in the danger of the supernatural again. But as Banri had proved time and time again, he could kick ghost, god—and now—zombie ass.

Juza blankly stares at Banri, before exhaling, "Of course it works with him."

Banri glares at him, "What the hell do you mean?"

"No fighting now!" Sakuya yells at them, letting out another column of blue flames. "Let's finish this before Sakyo and the director comes home!"

:)

idk if this is where I put requests I'm new to Tumblr 😭 but like I had an idea 🤓☝🏾can you write a story where the reader takes hobie roller skating and has to teach him because he's so horrible at it pleaseee

-M

i love this idea so much u have no idea . really hope i did it justice.

Roller-date.

warnings: cursing, gn reader, awful british, clumsy ass hobie

look at him guys omg he's so drools

Although he insisted that he’d rather spend time with you at his house, you weren’t listening. You had your eye on the new roller-skating rink that opened up recently and you instantly knew you wanted to go. He was very much against the idea at first; ‘Capitalistic ideations’ and what-not. “We can just get our own skates ‘n go ‘round town. We don’t need’a spend money.”, he’d say, but you countered with “It’ll be fun! Don’t you want to spend quality time together? It’ll be like a fun roller-date!” you smiled at him, and he found himself sighing with defeat. How could he possibly say no to you? “Fine. Just this once.” 

And that’s how he ended up here; sitting down next to you on a bench - inside the rink, bright pink roller skates in his hands. “You sure they didn’t ‘ave any other colours?” he asked you, looking down to see you tying the laces on your skates – which matched his. “Nope. But, it’s too late now!” you giggled, and he groaned; definitely regretting his agreement to come in the first place, but at least you were happy. Once you finished putting your rollerskates on, you looked back to him and smiled. You quickly made eye contact, as he had admittedly been staring at you the entire time. “Are you gonna tie your laces or do you need me to do that for you?” you teased, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts. He rolled his eyes at you, before tying his laces. It was hilarious; his punk style clashed with the bright pink roller skates in a way that made you struggle to contain your laughter. “What’s so funny?” he asked you. You cleared your throat. “Nothing.” you muttered, still staring at his skates. You didn’t see the small smile plastered on his face. “Come on then.” he said, and you finally looked back up at him. “You ready?” you asked him, and he nodded. You stood up; careful to not fall over. He stayed on the bench, which made you quirk your eyebrow at him, confused. “Hobe? Are you alright?” you asked him, taking note of how he awkwardly sat there. He nodded at you; the once cocky smirk on his face was replaced with a subtle look of embarrassment. But he played it off well. “Fine. ‘M fine.” he said. “Then come on. Let’s get in the rink!” you smiled, and he scrambled to get up. At first, he opted for the ‘no-hands approach’; Attempting to stand up without his hands, to impress you. – which failed horribly. He slipped and landed back on the bench. Then, he tried to hold onto the arm of the bench to pull him up. It worked for a bit, but just as he finally stood up, his knees shook and he lost his balance, falling back onto the bench. You laughed quietly at his struggling, amused at the scene in front of you. “Hobie, can you not skate?” you asked him, genuinely. “Maybe I can’t. So what?” he didn’t look at you as he spoke. His lips were pouted and his brows were crossed with subtle anger and maybe a slight bit of embarrassment. You laughed, the situation was now making much more sense. The reason he didn’t want to skate was because he didn’t know how to! He scoffed at you, crossing his arms like an angry toddler. “I’m sorry- here.” you tried to stop laughing, and held your hand out to him, pulling him up as he grabbed onto it. It took him a minute to get his balance, but once he did he felt like the king of the world. “Want me to teach you how to skate?” you offered, smiling sweetly. “I’d love tha', doll.” he raised your hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it. “Firstly, let’s get in the rink.” you stated, slowly beginning to step towards it. A hand latched onto your arm before you could do so. “Wait! Don’t jus’ leave me ‘ere!” he all-but-shouted, clinging onto your arm. You laughed again at that. “Here. Just take tiny steps. Sort of like waddling- like a penguin.” you instructed, before demonstrating it to him. He copied your movements, before tripping over his own feet. You caught him before he hit the ground, pulling him back up. “Be patient with it. It’s not a race.” you said, slowly shuffling once again. After a while, he seemed to get the hang of things. And finally, you reached the rink. “Okay, this is going to be a lot slippier than the carpet, so be careful.” you warned him, before stepping into the rink. He nodded, slowly shuffling in. You were right. It was a lot more difficult to keep his balance, and he stumbled around quite a lot. - almost falling more than once. But eventually he did regain his balance. “This is easy.” he commented, growing a lot more confident. You let out a small laugh, before warning him again. “Don’t get too cocky. You’re gonna end up jinxing yourself.” He didn’t listen, holding onto the wall of the rink and using it to hold himself up.

You moved around, skating in semi-circles around him. He just looked at you as if you were a professional. “‘How are you doin’ tha’?” he asked. “Oh it’s easy! You just gotta push with your legs. - not too hard. But gently just push.” You instructed, giving him a demonstration as you spoke. You slowly skated around him, and he took multiple mental notes on what you were doing. The place wasn’t crowded, but it definitely wasn’t empty. There were a decent amount of people around the both of you. “Did that make sense?” you stopped in front of him. He nodded. “Like this?” he pushed his left foot backwards, and very slowly inched forward; still clinging onto the wall for dear life. “Uhh.. you’re getting there?” he scoffed at you. “Knew this was a bad idea.” he muttered almost inaudibly, but you heard it. “Hey! Once you get the hang of things I’m sure it’ll be fun. Stop being so negative.” you pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he playfully rolled his eyes.

You spent a while giving him a bunch of pointers and tips on how to skate, how to stop, and all of the basics. He just looked so lost the entire time. He listened intently, and asked some questions – which was very unlike him. When you commented on his sudden change in behaviour, he responded with “Jus’ wanna make sure you ‘ave fun. Teachin’ me all this isn’t all tha’ delightful, eh?” it was sweet of him, and it truly made your heart smile.

After around 20 minutes, you spoke up. “That’s pretty much all you need to know. Are you ready to try it out properly now?” “Prepare to be amazed,” he said, and you laughed. “By all means, show me what you’ve got.” he obliged, skating impressively well considering he had only learned moments ago. You applauded him, clapping your hands dramatically. “But can you let go of the wall this time?” he muttered something, sounding slightly hesitant. “O’course i can let go o’the bloody wall.” it was quiet, and you almost missed it. He slowly let go and held both arms out to stabilise himself. And then, he did it. He started to skate without the help of the wall. You felt like a proud mentor, quickly following behind him as he kept going. “Look at you go!” You smiled, and he looked at you with a cocky smile.

You did a few laps around the rink, hand-in-hand. His hand was squeezing yours with subtle uncertainty, and you gave him a small squeeze of reassurance. “You’re doing great.” “Oh ‘ell yeah. Bloody professional I am, yeah?” you chuckled, “The best of the best.”

He was doing great. He was a lot more confident than when he had started and had picked up the pace. But, he was almost too confident. “Watch this,” he said, before speeding up drastically and attempting to spin. But, about halfway through his attempt at spinning, he tripped over his own feet and landed on the cold ground. Understandably, you burst out into laughter at the situation. You couldn’t help yourself, okay? After a while, you crouched down next to him, carefully. “Are you okay?” you asked, and he looked away from you, embarrassed. “Meant to do that.” he excused himself, and you giggled. “Sure you did.” You then noticed the small rip in the knee of his jeans. This rip was not intentional, and you could see a small graze peaking through the fabric. “Baby, your knee.” you said, your hands moving to assess the injury. He swatted them away before you could see it properly. “Hey, hey. ’m fine. “ he said, but you ignored him, immediately moving your hands back to his knee. You moved the ripped fabric around so that you could see the injury. “Looks like a bit of rug burn. Poor thing.” you said, acknowledging how he subtly winced at your thumb grazing over it. “Jus’ a scratch. Like i said, ‘m fine. Dealt with worse.” “Are you sure? Does your ass hurt from falling on it?” you teased, laughing at your own words. “‘S not tha’ funny.” he murmured. “Oh come on. You have to admit it’s a bit funny.” “ Fine. Maybe jus’ a bit.” he admitted and you smiled, before standing up and holding your hand out to him.

“Let’s see if they have any plasters at the front desk.”

omg heyyyy... so like, ive been wanting to make a normal taglist for all of my fics (not including series' tho they have separate taglists) so like lmk if you wanna be added pookie x

Little silly thought I have and I want to share it.

Imagine being the s/o of Riddle Rosehearts (Or any of the heartslabyul boys) when an unbirthday party is planed on your birthday, on Feb 29. (For the sake of this, imagine this is your birthday) No one thinking that it would be anyone's birthday due to the rarity of that happening. Having to wake up that day exited to see what your lovely boyfriend has in plan for you, only to realize that they had forgotten about it. Seeing them run around planning and working on the unbirthday party.

Realizing they forgot about your birthday, you decide to practically ignore them, going back to Ramshackle. Having a single cupcake as celebration for yourself on your special day, entirely by yourself.

Honestly how it ends or what happens next is up to y'all. I simply thought about this while reading the manga. I would love to read something like this but I'm not familiar enough with the characters to do this.

#92

tw: death

It’s cold. Someone shifts in the edges of the villain’s vision. Their breaths come out short and forced; each one threatening to be their last. Something bumps against their leg but they barely feel it. They can barely feel anything.

“Fuck,” someone hisses. The villain can hardly hear them. Their blood is pumping much too loudly in their ears. Something thick and crimson smudges across their palms. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to—”

There’s a moment of blissful nothing. It’s almost peaceful enough to fall asleep in. Then: “I’m so sorry, I– I didn’t—”

Footsteps. Receding. The person in the villain’s peripheral disappears and their voice dissipates into stark silence.

Exhaustion drags at the villain’s eyes. Everything around them is too far away. Their own thoughts are drifting dangerously close to nothing.

“Gosh,” a voice says from somewhere nearby. “You don’t half make yourself difficult to look after, do you?”

What? is what tries to come out of the villain’s mouth, but all their body can force out is a confused groan.

“I wish you would’ve considered a life of, I don’t know, normalcy and general lawfulness,” the voice continues. The villain can see them, kind of, standing at their feet. “I tried to force it down you as a teenager but… you know. Teenagers don’t listen.”

The stranger squats down in front of them, their head tilted to the side almost in curiosity. A white sheet spills at their feet. “Then again, I wasn’t expecting a hero to flat out stab you.” They chuckle, the sound reverberating harshly in the villain’s ears. “How novel.”

“Who…” is the furthest the villain can force their next question.

“Ah.” The person shuffles slightly. “I’m no one to worry about. I’ll introduce myself properly when you’re… lucid.”

The prospect of sleep is much too alluring for lucidity to be a possibility. The world has shrunken down to the villain at the stranger rambling at them by now. Their side hurts, and they can’t be bothered to remember why.

The person flops down on the ground with a sigh. Lower down, the villain can just about make out their face. Warm, kind; a bright smile beams at them. They’re pristine, beautiful, a world away from how the villain feels.

They momentarily see a flash of glaring white from behind the person as they settle, but they’re so dazed now that they might as well be imagining it.

“I’ll wait for you,” they say casually. “I’m sure you won’t be too long now, from the looks of you.”

Wait for what? The villain’s pretty sure they’re dying. Cold and fatigue creep in from all angles. They’re not going anywhere.

“Where…” The villain stops short again, their voice failing them, but the stranger seems to understand perfectly. Their smile widens slightly, and the villain somehow feels safe knowing they’re here. Like the first flower of spring is growing despite the claws of winter around it.

“We’re going to the other side,” the person says with a laugh like church bells, “and I’m pissed I have to take you there so early.”

Do you like stephen king by chance? You write a lot like him back when he was on coke. The way it’s third person but the narration holds the character’s personal biases. Idk what’s it called but it’s chefs kiss

The phrasing on this ask was WILD, lmao, but I've been informed that Stephen King is known for strong character voices, so this comparison makes sense. I haven't read one of his books since middle school, so I didn't remember much about his writing style aside from it being long-winded as hell.

That said, thank you very much! It's called third person limited (as opposed to omniscient or objective) and it's my favorite for strong character voices and unreliable narration!

“You are my biggest regret. But if I could turn back time, you’re a mistake I would make all over again.”

snippet sunday 🎄

another lil snip from deck the halls, not your family (which i have been affectionately calling eddie vs margaret buckley in my head, lmao)

Eddie rolls over and kisses Buck’s mouth. “Wanna fool around?” he asks, nosing along Buck’s whiskered cheek and chuckling when he’s tickled.    Buck sighs, feigning a put-upon attitude, and wraps his arms around Eddie. “What a romantic,” he muses, pulling Eddie half on top of his chest. “You know just how to make your man swoon.”  “Shut up,” Eddie says, flicking Buck’s cheek, but he shoves his hand down Buck’s pants, anyway, and grips his soft cock. It’s warm in his hand, velvet-like and damp at the tip; Buck hisses and fists Eddie’s t-shirt, bringing him in for a mean, dirty kiss.  Eddie groans, drops his mouth open for Buck to lick inside as he fondles Buck’s dick, stripping the length and pinching at the sticky head, and he’s lifting up to spread himself across Buck’s big body, attempting to shove down both his and Buck’s pants and underwear with one hand because the other’s in Buck’s hair, when three sharp knocks break through the fuzzy air.  “Dad? Buck?”  Eddie rips away from Buck, moving off and over and away. “No goddamn way this is happening again,” he curses beneath his breath, elbowing Buck in the kidney when he starts to laugh, and then, louder, “Yeah, baby?”  Christopher stays quiet for a moment before tentatively asking, “Are you guys still awake?”  “Yeah,” Buck answers, leaning up and adjusting his pants. He reaches over and flicks on his bedside lamp, illuminating the room in soft white light. “Come in.”

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon, @devirnis, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @callmenewbie, @jeeyuns, @daffi-990, @jamespearce9-1-1, and @hippolotamus

tagging @spagheddiediaz, @wikiangela, @thewolvesof1998, @eowon, @rogerzsteven, and @monsterrae1 if any of you wanna share something <3