#however i cannot write

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he still dreams of you and wishes for another chance to make you his, some lines are inspired by hakujitsu by king gnu

warnings: reader is rather lively/bubbly,

notes: TYSM FOR 100 !!!, a/n (yapping) in tags

wc: 1800

Hoshina Soushirou still dreamt of you. Every once in a while, you’d come to visit him in his sleep and it would make him believe that a miracle had occurred, that he had another chance. Every time, he would tell himself that he would never let this go, that he would give it his absolute all this time.

Yet, every time, he would wake up from this dream.

And every time, he would feel his heart drop at the realization of that. He was disappointed, and he knew, but there was no reason to be. It wasn't like anything had happened between the two of you. He liked to believe there was something going on— something more than mere acquaintances or friends, but he knew there wasn't. It must've been all in his head because the last time he had heard of you was before you were moved to the first division. He hadn't heard a single word from you since then, nor has he said anything— but that was just the way it was. There was nothing to do at this point anyway.

He wasn’t with you for all that long, and it was probably just the fact that both of you joined at the same time that naturally started the first conversation. He was far more weary of everything and far less cheerful at the time, and you didn't even work with him most of the time being a researcher, but you didn’t mind that one bit. If you had something you wanted to say, you would tell him and he’d just have to listen. At first, he had no idea why you kept talking to him when he paid hardly any mind, but after a while, he found comfort in your conversations. He had started to look forward to talking to you.

It had only been a few months before the defense force noticed how spectacular your work was and quickly called you over to the first division. There wasn’t a tearful farewell, or even a casual goodbye for that matter. You disappeared along with a cheerful ‘I’ll see you around!’ while you were moving your boxes out and he would hear those words ring in his head for the years to come— in your voice. Yet, at the time, all he could do was force a smile and nod.

It had been so many years since you had moved, he didn’t even know what you looked like now. Probably still stunning. Definitely still stunning. Although he had the chance to see the 1st division officers a lot, you were a researcher who worked behind the scenes. Naturally, there was no reason he'd bump into you, and he didn’t. He never did.

He loved to remember you, but he hated to think about you. He loved to remember the way you would laugh at his silly jokes, the way you would ramble on about the work you had to do daily but would still put in your all, and the way you would always visit him with some cold tea when he trained late into the night if you were still up as well. Actually, he hated thinking about the tea— it would make him start thinking about you. He would think about how you were now, if you were still pilled with work, and if you remembered him.

If he bumped into you, would you remember his name? Maybe if he cracked a lame joke. Maybe if he gave you a few days to think about it. Maybe if he started listing the things you talked about— his most treasured memories. Maybe then you’d say his name again.

See? This is why he hated thinking about you— he had things to be doing.

It wasn't like this happened everyday and it wasn't that big of a deal. It just ruined his day a little when it did happen. So if he had to say, he hated dreaming of you.

As you took over his thoughts again, the emergency alarm started to buzz, as if to tell him to snap out of it. He was thankful, he couldn't still be daydreaming like this.

A smaller-sized identified grade kaiju had appeared near the first division quarters, so the third division was doing more backup work this time. Hoshina was taking care of the smaller kaiju in the vicinity that had spawned from the presence of the honju. It felt nice for him to be doing work, it took his mind off his ramblings and cleared his head. He wasn't too worried about the honju, however. Although it was an identified grade, it wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and as much as he liked to tease Narumi about how he was always better at smaller kaiju neutralization, he knew Narumi was extraordinary at what he did.

At least that would have been true for any other kaiju of that size and strength, but Narumi seemed to be struggling far more than expected with this one. From his earpiece, he heard Okonogi notify him that the 1st division was asking to send Narumi some help if possible, and he immediately rushed over.

Yet, by the time he got there, Narumi had already neutralized the kaiju in question, although horribly beat up.

“I don't need your help, Hoshina!” Narumi still managed to yell while on the floor, absolutely bleeding out.

“Oh, shut up, do you want to die?” Hoshina asked. It didn't take an expert to see that Narumi’s condition was concerning.

Narumi soon fell quiet, probably unconscious, while Hoshina found his earpiece lying on the floor near him. He picked it up, hoping it'd connect to the first division just in case they had lost connection to his vitals.

“He's unconscious right now, but he seems to still be breathing. However, he's bleeding dangerously from multiple spots. I think a few ribs might also be broken,” Hoshina said. “There aren't any kaiju nearby at the moment and I'll take care of them if any do come— bring the stretcher right away.”

He waited a moment, but there was no response from the earpiece.

“Hello?” he asked, hoping for a response. After another moment, he heard it.

“Hoshina…?”

It was you. He would still recognize your voice from anywhere. Oh, how he missed you. His eyes were wide and he had nothing to say all of a sudden. You remembered him. You recognized his voice.

You remembered his name.

“Thank you for your report, we lost connection to some of his vitals halfway through. The medics should be there in a few minutes,” you said.

“I'll stand by,” Hoshina said and kept Narumi's earpiece in his ear. He had nothing he wanted to tell you, not one thing in mind, but he wanted to be on the line with you— even in silence. The medics came in a few minutes like you had told him and took care of Narumi right away.

“They got here, he should be fine now,” Hoshina said, as if you didn't already know. He just wanted something to say to you.

“I missed working with you,” you said and he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps he'd wake up from this dream again. Perhaps he'd open his eyes and be utterly disappointed again. But he knew there wasn't even a hint of romantic affection in your words, just the respect you've always had for the work he did, and how you missed doing this job with him. And he did too.

“Yeah, I did too,” he said. “I still do.”

You chuckled a little and he could still picture you smiling. “That made my entire year,” you said. “Probably not the time for this, but we should catch up sometime. If you don't mind, of course.”

Made your year. What did you mean by that? And If he didn't mind? Oh, you didn't know how many times he's dreamed of this day.

“I'd love to,” he said. While he was a little embarrassed to imagine the rest of the first-division team hearing this conversation, that was not going to stop him. He'd be an absolute fool to let this chance go. He has promised himself to give it his all this time.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked quietly.

“Sorry?” you asked, hoping he'd repeat that. You heard it, but you were afraid you were so delusional you were starting to hear things. Your heartbeat quickened and you waited patiently, hoping it wasn't all in your head.

“Do you have a lover?” he asked a little more clearly, but obviously still nervous and flustered. You had never seen him like this, ever.

“No,” you replied, a little too quickly. “I do not.”

Relief washed over him and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, thank goodness you didn't have access to his vitals. He was going to make you fall for him somehow.

“…do you?” you asked quietly, after a moment.

“Me?” he asked. “No, I don't.”

“I see,” you said, but he could hear the soft delight in your voice. He would never miss it.

Perhaps he'd just go for it. There was nothing for him to lose at this point, and he had made his feelings plenty obvious already. If you didn't want him, he'd just try again. He's tried countless times in his dreams already, what's a few more?

“But I'd love to be yours,” he said and heard you gasp quietly. That one he couldn't read. Was that a little too bold? Far too sudden?

“Did I hear that right?” he faintly heard you scream, asking your fellow first division coworkers. That made him laugh, you hadn't changed one bit. “I’ve loved you forever, Hoshina.”

There was absolutely no way. He was going to wake up soon, he just knew it. Well, might as well indulge in the dream for now, then.

“I've definitely loved you for longer,” he said.

“Hoshina, I'm going to kill you if this is a dream,” you said, and that caught him off guard. Yet, even that sounded nice to him, and that made him smile. He'd get to see you, at least.

But it wasn't a dream. The way your voice fluttered his heart could never be felt through a dream. The way your laugh filled his soul could not possibly make him feel so warm through a mere dream.

“I cannot wait to see you,” you said softly, your voice so full of love it made him melt.

He couldn't either, but that wasn't exactly what he had on mind this entire time.

“And I cannot wait to kiss you.”

[wiseatom]

fanfiction being free does not make it exempt from any criticism but there is something pretty sinister about publicly calling a completely free fan-made work “slop”

[sforzesco]

"Since you've named yourself after Julius fucking Caesar, perhaps I'll follow in your lead and choose one of the conspirators." "Interesting," says Giuliano. "Should I worry about finding you at the center of some kind of conspiracy that ends with my death?" "Not from me," replies Ascanio. He sounds tired. "Not anymore."

informally, some kind of. conversational follow up to the last comic. I'm trying to get the atmospheric conversational whimsy out of my system because I have a vision of the vatican as a body in active decay, a point of infection spreading out and poisoning the well, a jaw unhinged that people walk into over and over, and I am so close to figure out how to convey this visually. maybe.

[ros-sauce]

Found one of my old sketchbooks and it's mostly empty, taking requests for what to draw Really Really Badly

[matt-murdick]

Silvergifting Corpse Bride AU: people are telling Celebrimbor that now he's solved the "inevitable fading problem" he should settle down and get married but he just wants to be left alone. at some point he gets so frustrated that he goes out riding and starts ranting to his horse. he exaggeratedly proposes to what he thinks is a broken off branch, making sure to emphasise that he is the Scion of Feanor, the last son of a house of kinslayers and war criminals and oh please won't you do the honour of being wed to me until the universe ends and my spirit is at last extinguished... and then he slides one of his rings onto this branch, and it starts wiggling. Tyelpe screams and rides home with haste.

And you guys know what I'm thinking. Obviously, it's Sauron's hand, and this time it wasn't cut off by Isildur, let's say it was a wound in the war and he never went back and picked up his hand. It's still alive because the one ring doesn't exist, he's a Maia and they have incarnate fuckery that we can use here.

So Tyelpe has tried his best to forget about that weird thing that happened in the woods when Annatar rocks up, wearing Tyelpe's ring and saying that he's here to see his husband because they're tied together until 'the universe ends and his spirit is extinguished.'

Annatar settles himself in as the Consort to the Lord of Eregion and he enjoys it. Celebrimbor is both startled and fascinated by this so he's just letting it happen with minor fussing (rarely directed at Annatar). Gil-Galad is suspicious, Elrond is very suspicious, Galadriel is hostile, and Círdan thinks it's funny because the Maia clearly wants to be courted and Celebrimbor is giving him nothing except brainstorming sessions and everyone can see that even that is kind of working.

For Mairon, this happens after Morgoth's defeat and he's stuck because he really doesn't want to go back to Valinor and grovel, no one wants Sauron around, and Mairon doesnt want to live like a nobody -- so when he realises this idiot proposing to his detatched hand is an Elven Lord and a renowned smith, he's down for it.

And yeah, Mairon is kind of offended that Celebrimbor isn't trying to court him properly. But Tyelpe is cutest in his forge.

[read-write-thrive]

rest in peace edwin payne you would’ve loved blue prince

[bossthebicon]

23.5 pairing godji & golf, long time friends & trans icons together, IS THE MOST ICONIC THING EVER!!! I swear this show has the best characters, I love them all so much 😭😭😭

[marklikely]

maybe the lilo and stitch ending is actually just a marketing gimmick. in which case it worked bc my cousin and i are already looking up cam rips to watch since we cannot believe they would actually have nani give lilo up to go to college

[sideblogdotjpeg]

As THE Duck Team Polycule fan, did the polycule temporarily include Hardwon? Or is he third wheeling?

hardwon couldnt be in the duck team polycule he is too busy getting pegged by swag daniels

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

okay but the milex vibes in stop the world i wanna get off with you are just. something else

[freezinglemur]

It burns…it hurts. 

It hurts so much.

Slow, shaky breathing is the only sound to leave the little sapling as it lays in the grass, keeping its eye shut.

Why? It had tried so hard…it had one job! One purpose! And now? Now?! Now…now it just hurt.

Hate. They should feel so much hate, but it is too tired now to feel such a thing in the way it thinks it should.

It almost wants to cry, not that it has much energy for that either if it wanted to.

Their few thoughts are paused by a gentle touch. It’s…familiar, and cooler in temperature. It doesn’t burn. Somehow it's simultaneously and contradictorily warm in a sense, but not in the same way fire is. They can’t explain the sensation, but it knows who the sensation belongs to.

The void gently brushes one of their hands over the little spirit’s head. 

Why didn’t xe just give up? Feel disdain towards it like everything else? Why hadn’t they fought it like the burning ram had, even upon knowing its intentions fully? It should hate that being, but it can’t find the energy to right now. Xe did get them free, it supposed, even if it was all for not. It should–

“Shh…”

The thoughts pause again. The burns…hurt slightly less where the void lays xir hand.

“You did your best. It is time to rest now, Birch. She’ll be here to collect you soon.”

She…? Master…?

It’s hard to say, the sapling is exhausted. The void tucks a small, familiar lantern under the tree’s cloak. It limply rests its hands around it…something else to focus on. It was nice to not have darkness for a time. What a waste, now…maybe they will keep it. Out of spite–that’s all…yeah. Just...just out of spite. Right.

It feels the void rise, the figure gently removing their hands and taking a few steps back. A tendril still holds on a moment longer. Perhaps they’ll stay...?

It isn’t long before Birch is scooped up by someone else, however; someone…familiar in a different way. The void says a farewell to the sapling, and to whomever has picked it up, but the little tree doesn’t process the words well, and they cannot answer. The tendril gently falls away, returning to its owner.

The spirit feels so weak, and so tired…so very, very tired.

‘It’s time to rest, little sapling. Until we meet again.’

It gives in, it falls asleep.

And Hex departs with it in her arms.

(Based on the events of @ask-the-secret-weapons (Bonus below))

The two share a brief glance. They share an understanding, somehow, perhaps if only due to the tree and their connections to it.

Opal, as they call their vessel, stands and watches Hex depart. They hold no malice towards her nor the sapling; in xir mind, it hardly did anything wrong.

All the grudges, sins, hatred, and malice from being trapped so long–those souls had every right to feel as they did in their restlessness, and the tree only was fulfilling its given orders and purpose. Very little wrong with that, in the Void’s many eyes.

The horned god of the hearth hardly did anything wrong either; He was created, though told little of his purpose. Sentient with the ability to question, he deserved answers, to think, and to choose what to do. While Opal had hardly expected such a hasty decision to release little Birch from the burning Ram, they did not blame the Wickerman for his choice. Very little wrong with that, in the Void’s many eyes.

The town itself. It has done many wrong, and many right. Some deserve the wrath that was coming, some may not, but no one particularly wants to die. They are not wrong for wanting to preserve themselves, either. Very little wrong with that, in the Void’s many eyes.

The Phalanx. Believing they could contain things forever, they have grown so accustomed to disaster being contained or controlled. They have lulled themselves into a false sense of security, believing they are forever on top. That they can use these “secret weapons” as they call them, for whatever they please one day. “Strength in Control,” and yet, they have little control now. Perhaps they can lie to themselves longer. Rather amusing, in the Void’s many eyes.

The rest of the “weapons” themselves…quite the collection. A shame, a princess stolen away, what is she without her people, twisted into a form meant for war? What would the supercomputer think if she knew what had happened to this old friend, would she morn? A doctor, kept complacent by its programing, his only purpose to make others “happy,” what is he when forsaken? An escaped employee of this superstructure, running to make a life for himself away from disassembly; is he wrong for wanting and taking such a freedom? 

They cry out for aid, it is a shame, in the Void’s many eyes. The Void hears all the cries which do not manage to reach anyone else, desires that hide deep within, the void listens, and it provides its own aid in certain ways.

Alton, you are supposed to heed the call of your creations, and yet you give them silence. You shirk your responsibilities, and they pay the price.

And in the Void's many eyes...

There is something wrong with that. 👁

[chamerionwrites]

Andor frequently bears little resemblance to my own post-R1 headcanons (and often, I would argue, little resemblance to what's implied by Rogue One itself lol). Which only makes me more tickled by/obsessed with the handful of weirdly specific little details that line up, including:

Cassian's hometown(/city) containing both prominent scrapyards and a super prominent [factory shift] bell for marking time

At some point prior to joining the Rebellion Melshi was in prison

A member of Rebel high command (in my case it was Draven) subjected to the comparatively prosaic horrors of a failmarriage, while also fearing surveillance and/or arrest by the ISB under an atmosphere of frog-boiling authoritarian political terror on Coruscant

The comparatively prosaic horrors of being a young professional at a party with your career and/or social superiors and also alcohol, and Orson Krennic specifically being the worst guy to meet there

[demigod-shenanigans]

You guys have no idea just how badly I wanna keep posting preview snippets of the Orpheus Eurydice fic btw. Part of me is tempted to start posting chapters but I still have so much left to write and I need to stay strong if I’m gonna finish this

[travelling-on-the-octopath]

just remembered that i had to chicken out of my last P5R playthrough (went back a save file and just took Maruki's deal) because i was so grossly unfamiliar with game mechanics and also, devastatingly under-levelled. so TELL ME WHY. when i finally, FINALLY BEAT HIM. FULLY AND COMPLETELY. I hit an apparently common bug that gives you an infinite loading screen before you can get the final cutscene. i'm actually fuming.

[quatregats]

Thinking a lot of thoughts about Hornblower's relationships with Barbara and Maria as a metaphor for his larger relationship to social mobility and ambition, and I think there's actually a lot there - not sure if it was intentional, but I do think that whether intentionally or inadvertently, Forester did an interesting job with the parallels.

Quick note beforehand that some of this is based on my constant brief paging through C. Northcote Parkinson's Hornblower "biography", which, while I absolutely abhor his interpretation of Hornblower, gives even more food for thought on this point. I'm also leaning more into his interpretation of Hornblower's background and childhood, as opposed to the TV show's, so it might not work if you're coming from the TV show's perspective.

Parkinson takes Forester's comment that Hornblower was a "doctor's son" to mean that he was the son of an apothecary, rather than a physician like in the show. I'm not a historian of the period, so I would be hard-pressed to actually try to fit Hornblower's father within the 18th-century framework of medical practice, but either way, given his awkwardness around upper-class life and that he seems to have grown up in rural Kent, I think that Parkinson's claim that he was the son of an apothecary, rather than a physician, does have some reasonable foundation, or is at least equally plausible (to me) as the show's.

Hornblower struggles with poverty through most of the series, especially the first half, but even when he is barely scraping by, such as at the start of Lieutenant, this does not seem to be an abnormal state; and when he finally arrives at wealth and success, he constantly wishes to go back to the days when he was a penniless lieutenant, so from this we might also surmise that he did not come from wealth. (I'm also comparing especially to Jack Aubrey, who, while he admittedly makes a hash of coming into large amounts of money, and who also lives perfectly happily on very little, is clearly quite comfortable being the "lord of the manor" by comparison.)

One of the biggest changes in the second half of the series (from The Happy Return/Beat to Quarters onward) is that Hornblower's career comes into fruition; he becomes a decorated Captain, a member of the landed gentry, a Knight of Bath, a Peer, and finally an admiral, and marries into an enormously influential family. He's constantly in conflict about this, until he isn't: he wants to become someone powerful and important, except that he doesn't like the role once he gets it, and constantly wishes about the old days, then feels guilty for wishing for them. Most importantly, he seems to become less and less himself, his mental narrative getting more and more distorted as he tries to mold himself into the person he thinks he wants to be.

I don't think this is a particular novel interpretation, but I think that in light of this, the contrast between his marriage to Maria and his marriage to Barbara is very interesting. If he was an apothecary's son, his and Maria's marriage would make a decent amount of sense - they'd be from similar social backgrounds, and probably a reasonable match, if Hornblower's career had continued as expected. Hornblower feels comfortable around Maria at the start of their friendship and the very beginning of their marriage in a way that mirrors his comfort with the life he's living at that point - which is to say that he clearly knows and understands what's expected of him and how to interact, in clear contrast with later books. But on the other hand, for all that he originally does love Maria, Hornblower comes to find her to be coarse, unrefined, and boring, and feel that she is not good enough for the person he wants to become. It's at the point when he starts to feel that he's moved passed Maria that he begins to take on his new, ambitious, performative persona.

On the other hand, Hornblower feels stiff and uncomfortable around Barbara from the beginning of their relationship, notably for reasons of class, and even in later books, consistently sounds intimidated by her poise and upper-class untouchability. With Maria he doesn't feel enough for her; with Barbara he feels too much, an almost uncouth sentimentality. He craves Barbara's status like a man drowning, but can't hold up under the weight of what it would mean. They have very strong intellectual chemistry, but socially they are a disaster of a couple, and yet nonetheless, Hornblower continues with the marriage because it feels to him like the thing he ought to do, just as he ought to become squire of Smallbridge. He's so viscerally uncomfortable with his position in the later books in a way he wasn't even at the height of his earlier miseries, but he refuses to let himself admit that his ambitions might have led him astray.

I think it's also interesting that the relationship which Hornblower arguably finds the most fulfilling (or rather, it was written very poorly if Forester wanted to make it feel fulfilling for the reader, but nonetheless it was clearly meant to be the most fulfilling for Hornblower) is his relationship with Marie, who sits at a similar odd juncture to him. In the text, Forester says outright that Marie fulfills Hornblower's interest in upper-class women (ambition) while not intimidating him, yet still being a satisfying intellectual partner. Nonetheless, just as Marie and Hornblower can never actually end up together, Hornblower can never actually be comfortable with his position, and no matter how many times he tries to find solace in her, he is eventually forced to continue down the path that he began, making up with Barbara and fully taking up the mantle of Admiral and Peer of the Realm.

In short, I think that watching the way in which Hornblower's relationship with Maria evolves over the course of the early books and the way in which his relationship with Barbara takes up after that ends up being a very neat parallel to his own ambitions and class identity. With Maria he is at home, but bored and restless; with Barbara he gets everything that he wants, but feels like a fish out of water. I think that particular parallel is part of the particular tragedy of Hornblower - he can't ever be satisfied with the person he was, or the person he's become. But I think that adding in aspects of extreme class difference - even more class difference than the general trends of social mobility during this period - also helps to elucidate the fundamental tension which drives Hornblower forward as a character. The world he came from was too small for him; the world in which he moves now is far too big; but there's no in-between option. He has to choose what he wants to be, and sacrifice some part of himself in order to do that, and in light of this reading of him, I think that there's a lot of interesting dilemmas to be raised.

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Sobbing in bed because I'm writing a Ulysses fic and I'm caught between him killing the Courier because they are willfully giving up all the people they love and all the good they've done in the Mojave and he wanted them dead and gone-

And him just telling them they don't belong in the Divide with him. Not them, not their soft heart.

"You need to go home," Ulysses would say.

The courier would just laugh.

"Go home, Courier," they mumble. "Your signs. I have them all marked on my Pip-Boy. I don't even know why, but I mark all of the ones I find."

They traverse the Divide KNOWING Ulysses will kill them.

They take off their armour and keep only their finest, best combat knife and a gun on them with enough ammo to get them to Ulysses and to give him a third bullet to put in their skull alongside the two from Benny.

They offer him their knife, their gun, and the option for him to kill them with his bare hands.

Willingly. Selflessly. Painfully.

"I could never hate you, Ulysses. Not for this, never for this. I will never be mad at you for this."

And he's caught.

They're a godsend to this place, so much good they've done.

Does he kill them? Or does he bridge the Divide?

Maybe they go home. Maybe he kills them.

And maybe, after everyone back home knows they're okay... Maybe they do belong here, in the Divide, with Ulysses.