#but this is like. idk not hitting in the way it feels it should. the phonecall i mean.

[only-embers-remain]

the poem is titled as it is and reads as "Shit is hard, I understand that, but that hardness is either the only way things can be or should be, and if you don't like that or are seeking to subvert that you at the very least should feel bad and worse reading of these words is you are unlovable for not enjoying the pain" Like 100% on board with the screw generative Ai, but the take that the above poem is about moral supperiority of doing the difficult and frequently pointless works isn't really a stretch in any way. as for specifically OPs words yeah all of that is great, engage your brain, but uh how does a poem about writing school papers (which until you hit half way into college is all just ass kissing anyway) is maybe not the best thing to pair with your words. 100% learn to think, to work through struggles (as much as you are able), to exercise the blob of jello in your head, the process is very much so a major point in art, but to tie that message to paper writting is uh just well off, so like idk maybe that's why they've focused so much that part and how much school sucks instead of the little blurb about art you added to the bottom op, that i missed my first time reading.

Honestly, y'all, I'm begging you. Take the time to think and learn for yourself. Even if it's just something casual like knitting or cooking. Exercise your brain. It's important.

[thescarletfang]

I can’t stop thinking about the blurb you wrote with an enemies to lovers with robby and a brick wall. The prospect alone is giving me life.

This one's for you, anon. Hope it hits!!!! Apologies if the ending feels a bit rushed!

dr robby x f!reader

!! 3.4k, enemies-to-lovers, smut, fingering, sexual act in public, unspecified age gap, power dynamics, anger, idk????? lil fluff at the end 18+ MDNI. i'm sure there are typos, i'll likely re-read and edit ~*EVENTUALLY*~

For interested parties - this is the blurb referenced.

"Hey."

You ignore his voice despite knowing it's just going to piss him off further. You slam your locker shut, trying to steady your breathing.

"I'm officially off the clock," you practically hiss, refusing to turn around as you zip up your bag and try to stop shaking. He's got you so riled up -- as always -- and you just want to leave this fucking hospital and get home.

"I don't fuckin' care," Robby growls from behind you. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

The blood boils inside of your body. You whip around, eyes narrowing at your attending. He's looking down at you, metaphorically as well as physically, arms crossed over his way too fucking broad chest.

"Really?" You scoff. "You're talking to me like I'm a fucking child?"

Robby's eyes narrow. "You want me to talk to you like an adult? Then you start acting like one."

Your ears ring with rage and you can feel your face growing hot. "How dare you---"

Robby's eyes flash. "Need I remind you that I am your attending? You are still my resident---"

You close your eyes, thumping your head against the row of lockers. "Jesus Christ---"

"And you directly disobeyed me. You went behind my back without consulting me, like you're fucking supposed to do."

Your eyes prick and it pisses you off. You will not let Robby make you cry.

"I did what I had to do to save a life," you say lowly, your voice thinner than you want it to be.

"You undermined me," Robby says, his voice laced with fury. "In front of an intern, no less. You have absolutely no fuckin' respect for authority, you’re constantly looking for rules to break under the guise of being flexible, and you don’t fuckin’ listen.”

Robby’s chest is rising and falling a little faster than before he started this spiel of vitriol in your direction. You want to scream. You want to hit something. 

But you’re so tired you can barely see straight, and if you’re being honest with yourself, getting reamed out by Robby feels like absolute shit.

You hate that you stare down at your feet instead of meeting his eyes. 

“It was a cardiac tamponade,” you grit out. “He was going to die. I did what I had to do and now he’s in cardiology’s hands, I don’t see–”

Robby shakes his head, hooking his fingers behind his neck in that way he always does. “No, you don’t see. You never fucking see, do you?”

It stings like a slap. You finally look at him and he’s just staring at you with something so close to hate that you wish you’d never stepped foot in PTMC three years ago at the start of your residency. You may be a senior resident now, but Robby clearly feels like you don’t measure up. 

Neither of you say anything for a moment. You look away. “You gonna write me up?”

Robby shrugs. “Yeah, maybe I should. I always let you off the hook because—” he cuts himself off. You whip your eyes to him, feel your pulse increase.

“Because what?”

Robby winces, messing up his hair. “Forget it.” You wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. His big, stupid brown eyes look at you and you hate how you can see every emotion flicker through them as he rubs his beard. The clearest of emotions?

Anger.

“This will not happen again, got it?” His voice is sharp; raspy and worn, but commanding. You have to physically restrain yourself from snapping at him or recoiling. You just nod, silent.

Robby glares at you one more time before turning and walking away. 

It takes you five minutes to regain your composure before you finally leave. 

Your hands tremble the entire drive home.

* * * 

You don’t speak to Robby for the rest of the week, unless it’s absolutely necessary. You avoid him like it’s your job, sticking close to Collins and McKay for almost all of your cases. You offer him clipped, short sentences that only contain the vital medical information needed. If his eyes linger on you longer than necessary, a frown pinched between his eyes, you don’t see it. 

You are done with Dr. fucking Robinavitch.

The two of you have always butted heads. It started out polite enough, and you’ve always respected him. But he’s so damn bull-headed all of the time, and stubborn, and his temper hangs on such a short fuse. You’re working under the worst conditions at the best of times, and you just cannot keep it together around him.

Robby — Dr. Robby — knows how to get under your skin. 

You refuse to examine the feeling further. You refuse to admit that yes, he’s stupidly handsome and competent and he is the greatest doctor you’ve ever worked with. 

But the man is a mess and like, fifteen years older than you and he needs to get in therapy yesterday. 

So, you ignore him this week and you pretend not to feel his eyes drilling a hole in the back of your head every time you walk by him. He’ll never apologize for the way he spoke to you and you’ll never apologize for undercutting him because you saved a human life. 

You eventually get so desperate to stay away from Robby that you beg to switch to night shift for a bit, and Abbot is so thrilled about the extra support he immediately puts in a request for the schedule change. 

You see Robby when he’s leaving for the day and you’re arriving for your first night shift. He has his backpack swung over one shoulder, sunglasses hanging on his scrubs, and you immediately beeline for the lockers. You can feel Robby’s gaze on you and then you hear his heavy footsteps. You occupy yourself with putting your things away and ignoring him. 

“You wanna tell me why you’re on the schedule for nights for the rest of the month?” Robby’s voice is low behind you. It’s like gravel and you need to stay away. 

You don’t answer, just close your locker and mess with the combination. 

Finally, you turn to him and he’s…he’s watching you like he can see through you and your layers of self-preservation. 

He looks exhausted and frayed to the edges but you force yourself not to care. 

“Abbot needed help,” you tell him coldly, shrugging and moving around him. He easily falls into step beside you. Damn his long legs. 

“Bullshit,” he says easily. You stop walking and whirl on him. 

“Why the hell do you care?” You try to keep your voice even but you’re failing. You’re failing at everything these days, but you really don’t need Dana’s curious look from where she’s packing up for the night at the nurse’s station. 

Robby rubs his beard and you see his patience (which isn’t there on the best days) wearing thin. “You should’ve run the schedule change by me.”

“Fucking hell!” Your voice rudely pitches up an octave without your consent. “You’re really giving me shit for this now too? Do I do anything right in your eyes? I get that you fucking hate me, but—”

Robby takes a step back, like your words physically pushed him. “What? I don’t–I don’t hate you—” You start walking again, determined to get out of this man’s orbit. “Just fuckin’—hey, hold on—-”

Ellis rushes past you, claps you on the shoulder. “T-5's going septic. Gotta run a central line, let’s go.” 

You glance briefly to Robby, who’s looking at you with a guarded expression that you’re tempted to label wounded but you don’t have time to analyze a 53-year-old man’s inability to communicate with you properly. 

You look at Ellis and nod. “Let’s go.”

You leave Robby staring after you and you refuse to think of him (or his stupid big, sad, brown eyes) for the rest of the night.

* * * 

The bar is warm but your belly is warmer as you sip your second glass of wine. It’s a testament to how loved Shen is and how the Pittfest mass casualty event truly bonded you all together almost a year ago that so many PTMC folks are here celebrating his birthday at a dirty, dingy dive bar.

Not everyone can be here – of course – but you take a shot with Samira and Cassie, you tease Whitaker, you catch up with Mateo and Mel, you trade barbs with Walsh and you laugh at a sarcastic quip Abbot makes out of the corner of his mouth. 

For the first time in a month, you feel light. You feel happy.

You’ve also been able to avoid Robby for the entire evening, and that’s a win in your book. 

He mostly sticks with Abbot, the two old heads sipping whisky on stools like a couple of highwaymen. 

You do not notice how good Robby looks out of scrubs. And you certainly do not notice how when you walked into the bar, his eyes raked over your little dress like he was a man starved and you were a cool drink. Because if you noticed both of these things, that would mean that there is something between you that isn’t anger or annoyance. You recall what Samira had said to you a few months ago while you split a bottle of red together on her couch. 

“All tension is sexual tension, you know. I see the way he looks at you when you’re both tearing each other’s heads off!” She’d waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe you need to tear other things off.” A pause. “Like clothes. I was referencing tearing off clothes.”

You’d burst out laughing, tipsy with your friend but now you can’t help but think maybe there’s some truth to that ridiculous statement. 

No, you tell yourself, lifting your drink again to your lips and trying to zero in on what sweet Whitaker is saying to you and Victoria. No. 

Robby hates you.

Robby does not feel anything toward you.  

Robby—Robby is staring at you and you can see it over Whitaker’s shoulder and it makes you feel insane. Jack’s saying something to him and Robby is nodding like he’s listening, but his eyes keep flicking back to you, keep looking at you and you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden.

You need some air.

Desperately. 

You mumble an excuse to Whitaker and Victoria, down the remainder of your wine and place the glass on the bar counter. You assure Samira you’re okay, just need some air when you pass her and she looks worried but your legs keep moving and you don’t breathe easily until you’re outside in the cool evening air. 

You take in a lungful, letting the door swing shut behind you and you meander to the far side of the bar. You lean against the brick wall, trying to understand why your heart is racing. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear — you feel insane wearing it down, as it’s always tied back for your shifts — and try to calm down.

He was just looking at you.

It means nothing.

He hates you—

“You okay?”

Your eyes fly open and you turn your head to watch Robby walk around the corner, hands in his pockets. He has the audacity to look concerned and it throws you out of sorts. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, running your hands over your dress. Robby’s eyes watch the motion for a second, like it’s involuntary, and you feel a hot coil spring loose in your stomach. 

He raises an eyebrow, stops right in front of you. You’re still leaning against the wall and you wish you could just disappear from this moment. 

“Really.” Robby doesn’t ask it but instead says it like he knows you’re lying. “Cuz usually people who are ‘fine’ don’t dart out of a birthday party the way you just did.”

You stare at him and the fact that he even noticed has your head spinning. You try to deflect. 

“Didn’t realize you were watching me so closely, Robinavitch.”

Robby barks out a humorless laugh. “Oh, we’re back to Robinavitch now?”

You stare at this frustrating man and resist the urge to pull your hair out. 

“It’s really impossible for me to win with you, isn’t it?”

He squints at you like you’re an idiot. “For you to win with me? You’re joking, right?” He rubs his beard — his tell — and looks away for a moment. “You fucking switched shifts because of me.” 

You gape at him and wait for his eyes to come back to you before you speak. “You don’t want to work with me! Why do you even care? I was doing you a favor—”

“Whoah, whoah—hold on.” Robby takes inhales through his nose. “Where is all this coming from? You accuse me of hating you the other day, and now you say I don’t want to work with you—-”

You cannot take any more of this. “You ride me harder than any other fucking resident! You don’t—you don’t believe in me—”

You’re breathing heavily and Robby stares at you, a mystified look flitting over his face.

“Is that what you think?” he asks, his voice with its typical rasp filling all of your senses. He takes a step closer. “How can you think I don’t believe in you? You’re my best resident.”

Your eyes grow wide as you try to comprehend his words. “But—but you’re always—mad at me.” You finish the sentence lamely. 

“Yeah because you’re fuckin’ infuriating,” Robby grinds out, his jaw flexing once. “And I know how much you’re capable of, everything you can do, if you’d just fucking trust me.” 

He’s closer now, somehow inched just a breath’s distance from you and you look up at him. You feel unrooted, you feel like everything is swimming around you. 

“But you—you hate me!” It’s a feeble last attempt at defense and Robby—Robby actually growls. 

“Would you stop fucking saying that?” He rubs a hand down his face, like he’s so tired—

“But—-” 

Robby groans and something inside him snaps. He mutters, “fuckin’ Christ,” before he puts his large hands in your hair and pulls you to him, his lips crashing with yours.

Robby is—-Robby is kissing you.

Your attending has his hands buried in your hair and he’s pressing his body back into yours and your back hits the brick wall and he’s—his lips.

You gasp into the kiss and a second later he pulls back, guilt flashing across his face. 

“Oh fuck,” he says quickly. He’s flushing red and about to step back. “I’m sorry, that was completely inappropriate—”

You don’t let him finish his sentence. With a fistful of his shirt, you pull him back to you and press your lips to his. 

This time there’s no hesitancy on your part. You trace your tongue on his bottom lip and he opens for you and moans into your mouth as his hands land on your waist, pushing you back against the wall.

The kiss is messy; Robby licks into your mouth like he was always meant to do it and you your hands slide into his hair and one of his hands grabs a palmful of your ass and you whimper into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he says into your kiss and he sounds so wrecked. You can feel yourself soaking your panties as Robby’s other hand — the one not dimpling the flesh of your ass through your dress — skates down your leg and hitches it around his waist. 

He sloppily moves away from your mouth to your jawline and then your neck and through the haze of lust you remember you’re in public, you’re outside a shitty bar and all of your coworkers are inside, but when Robby grinds his fucking hard cock against your core you actually die little. 

“Robby,” you whine and he grunts, grinding again against you and his lips trail back to yours. They swallow your sounds and your hands grip his hair and you feel delirious. 

“You drive me insane,” Robby groans, his voice destroyed and you’re gasping for air when you feel a hand dip under your dress.

You're throbbing between your legs and you look at Robby through your lashes. “Touch me,” you whisper and Robby lets out a disbelieving laugh, his head knocking against your collarbone as his right hand trails along the seam of your panties. 

You’ve never wanted someone so badly.

When a large finger sweeps aside your underwear and swipes through your soaking slit, you both let out moans in tandem. 

“Jesus, baby,” Robby says, pulling back and looking at you with heavily lidded eyes. He looks wrecked. His hair is askew and his neck is flushed and his lips are kiss-bitten. “You gonna let me fuck you with my fingers agaisnt this wall?”

“You can fuck me with more than your fingers against this wall,” you tell him brokenly and Robby looks like the words cause him physical pain. He gently eases his finger into you, the glide delicious and you throw your head back, baring your throat to him. He licks up your jugular, until he finds your mouth. You don’t kiss —- you’re just…you’re fucking panting into each other’s mouths. 

“I’m not fucking you for the first time against a dirty wall,” he says, and you lick his tongue. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he slips another finger into you and you bite his lower lip, dragging it out.

“No?” you ask, because right now all you can think about is Robby fucking you against this wall. 

Robby looks at you and his eyes are clear when he says, “No. I’m gonna have you come all over my fingers, then we’re gonna go say bye to everyone. Then, I’m gonna take you home and fuck you in my bed.”

Your eyes go wide and before you can answer, Robby starts fucking you with his fingers in earnest. He glides them in and out, and his thumb finds your clit. 

“Oh my god,” you moan, head thrown back again. Robby finds a home in your neck, sucking on a pulse point. “Robby!”

“God you feel so good,” he mumbles, voice muffled by your throat. “You make such pretty noises, baby. Wanna feel you come on me.” 

He curls his fingers just right and you’re there, you’re going to fucking come so quickly.

“I’m there, I’m right there,” you whine, your voice high-pitched. “Need your cock, Robby, need you to fill me up—”

Robby growls, covering your mouth with his as he strums just right. 

He pulls away from your lips just enough to whisper, "Come right now and you can ride me all night, baby.” 

You shatter. 

“Yes—yes! Fuck, fuck, Robby—yes, yes!” The words spill from your lips as you ride your boss’s fingers against a brick wall.  Your orgasm slices through you, barreling you over and over and over. 

Robby fucks you through it with his fingers, brokenly rasping, "Good fuckin' girl. That's right, take what you need, fuck."

You’ve never come so hard in your life. 

You open your eyes and Robby — fingers still buried in your pussy — is looking at you with glassy eyes like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

You grin lazily at him, bones loose from your orgasm. “That is…not the direction I thought my night was going in.”

Robby huffs out a laugh and slowly removes his fingers. You hiss at the feeling, still fluttering around him. He looks down at you, but this time you’re ready to meet this eyes.

Something real flits across his face then, and with his other hand he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. He cradles your face and you lean against his palm. 

“I could never hate you,” he says softly, and his eyes match his voice and it’s just—it’s so good. 

“No?” 

He leans his forehead against yours and you feel whole in that momet. 

You feel…strong. 

Robby looks into your eyes and you have this insane feeling that everything is going to be okay. 

“No,” he says, his lips hovering over yours. “Not when I’ve wanted you for so long.” He pauses. “I’m sorry. For just…everything.”

“I’m sorry too,” you tell him, because it’s true. 

He pulls back, grinning boyishly. “That mean you wanna be the one to tell Shen we’re leaving his birthday early?”

You laugh and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “That’s all you, old man."

***

look, these two will need therapy to establish healthy communication skills lol but hey it's fanfic baby

[puckpocketed]

Van!! since the postseason is slowly approaching its own end i've been wanting to get more into hockey analysis as this is my first full season as a fan and i still have a lot to learn about the game itself. Idk where to start but i feel like out of my mutuals you know a good bit about that stuff so I was wondering if you have any resources you could point me to? books or youtubers etc

Mei rubberpuckies... <3 Can't say I've got every answer but here are some of the places I visit:

Probably the easiest way to start learning is to have the game in motion in front of you and have someone explain it, video content hits that perfectly!

This video covers player roles. Good way to start understanding how each role fits into a 5-person unit. Content meant for new hockey players or players who are young/transitioning into a new role, and no game footage but the colour coded diagrams and explanation was very useful to me!

This guy also makes content meant for hockey players and doesn't post much, but he covers broader tactical concepts (and uses woho clips, which is so cool!). His videos are very digestible!! Short, have diagrams and bullet point slides... just great introductions to stuff like d-zone coverage and forechecking concepts.

Steve Peters used to work with the Coyotes and now runs Inside the Coaches Room. You might've seen some short clips of his content floating around on twt, he breaks down clips from current/recently played games so they're very relevant!! He's doing playoffs content now. I like his hockey for beginners video a lot as a catch-all primer for NHL ice hockey (I have linked the playoffs edition, it's a very good watch)

Hockey Psychology does some scattered tactical breakdowns of games, most recently FLA @ TOR Game 7. Not a huge fan of their clickbait style video titles or thumbnails but hey, whatever gets them noticed!

Simon St-Laurent does video reviews on the big names amongst draft eligible players. He comes to his own conclusions about the players in isolation of the broader game so you kinda have to take that as you will... I think, like everyone who watches a sport for long enough, scouts and prospect writers have their very specific beliefs about how the game should be played and it shows in the way they evaluate players. I like St-Laurent because he has a coherent, consistent framework that he pulls from. Maybe we won't agree all the time, but at least I can kinda understand how he arrives at his opinions.

In the same vein, Elite Prospects run a channel and like to get various writers to make short scouting videos on players. With the multitude of voices your mileage may vary, but I've enjoyed their work!

Kyle MacLennan on twt/x posts short clips of recent games and tends to highlight one aspect that he noticed. I have this man on notifications I'll be honest!! Clips come with no voice over explanation but lots of annotations and freeze frames. His stuff is the most bite-sized, 1-2min clips of games with a short blurb - wish I could be as concise as him <3 his most recent thread highlights FLA's tight checking in Game 7.

Further reading is... idk I don't want to be that guy because I also just got here but it's frustrating how so much high quality content and hockey knowledge is locked behind paywalls. I believe in my heart all writers should be paid for their work. I also know there is an appetite for deeper hockey analysis out there that could grow the game if only they'd let it </3 MAN!!!

I spend real actual dollars on Jack Han's Hockey Tactics books, which he releases every year part way through the season after watching every NHL team play. There are pictures and explanations of how each team runs their system, and this year's edition has an end section with anecdotes from industry people which I loved digging through. You don't have to buy it but if you find that you're really interested in the analysis side of things it's an incredible resource!! He's also on twt/x where he comments on the game and occasionally does little video review, and runs a paid Substack with the occasional free article <- this one I can't afford but ouggghhh when I get more disposable income.......

Beyond general analysis, there are so many blogs and writers that do cover specific hockey teams I don't think I could name them all if I tried. If you go looking for that sorta thing there'll always be some nerd out there obsessively watching tape and writing about it (and sometimes it's Sheng Peng <3)

Love and light but this is getting really long and I don't want to overwhelm you. You aren't the first person to ask about resources and I've been meaning to do a roundup of publications/channels I like to dig through so thank you for dropping by and prompting me!!

[sengenism]

The Ishigamis and The Gifts of Science

Dr. Stone is a love letter to humanity and its sciences. The main character, Senku, often acts averse to all forms of affection, and the only love he doesn't deny is his love for science. But Senku is so so full of love. He just expresses it in a way other than physical touch or words of affirmation. He gives.

But let's go back to the one who taught him so– Byakuya Ishigami, his father. The love of Senku's life.

Byakuya is introduced in the tenth chapter of the manga as a dotting father who sells his car to present Senku with scientific instruments he will need for a more efficient research. This car is Byakuya's means of transportation, and given that he is crying and shaking in this scene, it could not have been easy for him to lose it. But his love for Senku is so big, that he wants to support his son's passion even if it means sacrificing a great convenience for him.

And Senku? Senku truly fell in love with science at this moment.

If there is anything that Senku is, he is Byakuya Ishigami's son through and through. They may seem like two very different people, as Byakuya is an openly affectionate guy while Senku is more closed off with showing his true emotions. But Senku takes more from Byakuya than not, and one of them is by showing his love and/or care for others through giving the gifts of science.

And it starts with Byakuya.

[Bodysuit Acquired!]

Byakuya had failed his first attempt at being an astronaut ten years back, but he doesn't give up and tries again. Senku then creates a bodysuit that manipulates muscle movement to help Byakuya pass his swimming test. And while the bodysuit doesn't quite help Byakuya to swim, the thought Senku had put into it had motivated Byakuya more than ever to pass the test. This is one of the fundamentals of gifting– sometimes, it really is the thought behind it that matters.

This motivation is what Byakuya credits during his interview with JAXA for passing the tests. He understands that Senku might not have given him any words of encouragement, but this bodysuit was all the words that were needed between them. Senku wants Byakuya to achieve his dreams just as badly. It's the way Senku shows his love for his father.

And it's the way Senku shows his love for others too.

[Glasses Acquired!]

One of the primitive aspects of the Ishigami village is that it considers bad eyesight as a type of "disease". Fuzzy disease, to be exact.

Suika wears a melon mask at all times to help clear her eyesight, which Senku later reveals is due to the pinhole effect. She, however, has never told Senku or the others about having the fuzzy disease. Senku himself notes how odd it is for her to wear a melon around, and confronts her about it once he decides to create glass. This is one of the most beautiful scenes in Dr. Stone, as Suika finds out that her disease was never a disease, and is finally able to see as clearly as the others. Senku basically gives her perfect eyesight, something she didn't even know was possible before.

[Antibiotics Acquired!]

One of the most beloved people in this village is the priestess, Ruri. Two of Senku's new friends, Kohaku and Chrome are deeply affected by her unknown fatal disease. Senku is such a person who would help a stranger even if there is no benefit to do so (though he would never admit to it), what more a person who his new friends truly love and care about. He cures Ruri of pneumonia, giving her a chance to live a life without the worry of it being her last day every day.

[Cola Acquired!]

Senku forms an alliance with Gen, who plays the role of Tsukasa's spy, for the promise of a bottle of cola. Both Senku and Gen are aware that the cola is only a front for Gen's loyalty to Senku and the Kingdom of Science, for Gen needs his superficial reputation as a comfort and cannot simply join them if there is no personal benefit for him to do so.

This cola is also the first gift post-petrification that Senku brands himself on, probably because it represents the first gift that is not out of necessity and leans toward a comfort/luxury that they both used to enjoy in the modern world.

For a modern man such as Gen, drinking his favourite soda in the stone world might have been one of the happiest days in his life.

[Cotton Candy Acquired!]

Senku cares about people so much, even if the people in question have tried to kill him. Senku sees Homura as a soldier who is merely following the orders given by her leader, but he also sees the Homura as a lonesome girl sitting by herself on trees day and night.

As usual, Senku hides his kindness and care by showing an evil ulterior motive, such as turning Homura to their side using the cotton candy, but Ruri points out that this is a facade. Similarly to Gen, a person with such an ego is unable to seem as if he is doing something good out of the kindness of his heart.

[Stove Acquired!]

As winter approaches, the elders in the village are worried about losing people to the cold. Senku hears about this and creates a stove which has a multi-purpose of cooking and also radiating heat for the people to stave off the coldness of winter. And speaking of winter...

[Christmas Acquired!]

Senku hangs up lights in the tree for the "light bulb test" on a random night. Except the date isn't random at all and he drops enough hints for Gen to catch on that it is the night of Christmas. The significance of the day is only appreciated by Gen and himself, as they are the only modern timers in the village. It is for the sake of nostalgia, but Senku would rather be caught dead than admit that he is a sentimental guy with such irrational feelings.

And well, it all comes back to that scene with Byakuya, doesn't it? If you recall, Byakuya calls himself "Santa" while giving the scientific presents to the young Senku. This indicates Senku received them during Christmas. Which means... Christmas is a sentimental day to Senku and his father. An anniversary of Senku receiving his Christmas presents from Byakuya, which led to his deeper dive into his science obsession. The beginning of it all, one would say.

And even though he's dead and buried, Byakuya never stops giving. He gives Senku the Ishigami village to provide Senku with allies. He gives Senku Lillian's music, because he believes in the light of music and understands the importance of media to society. He collects platinum till his last breath, because he believes that Senku will need it someday. Byakuya keeps on giving to Senku, because his love for his son is so huge and unconditional. And because he promised.

Surely, there is no greater love in the manga than Byakuya's love for his son and Senku's love for his father. Byakuya could easily win ten billion best father awards... well, not like there's much competition for that in shounen mangas.

[yaoisquidbob]

that one time i lived up to my username

[liauditore]

BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY!

[myrkulitescourge]

imo karlach’s soul coin usage seems like it should have been a little more significant than it was.

she only ever really stops to consider the magnitude of burning through a person’s soul for power during an origin playthrough—otherwise she rationalizes to the player that they’re doomed anyway, and if using them gives her an edge in combat, why not use them for good instead of leaving them to be used by evil? the dialogue with lann tarv in act 2, where he tells the story of each soul he's handing over to her, tries to humanize each soul coin, and still she doesn’t really budge and disapproves pretty heavily if she's told no in regards to using them.

it just seems like something that could have caused some kind of conflict between her and wyll, given he sold his soul to a devil in dire circumstances and takes issue with the player for sleeping with mizora, because she 1) is mizora, and 2) similarly expends tormented souls during her romance scene, even if for a different purpose. but it just... never really comes up?

i love karlach. but that seems like it should have gone Somewhere, from a writing standpoint? karlach values wyll as a person but is willing to use currency forged from souls like his for the sake of a temporary power up. she knows the soul is consumed when she uses them. that whole exchange with lann tarv is there to emphasize that every soul coin she destroys was a person once. but it all kind of loses narrative purpose if this combination of factors doesn't mean anything? karlach doesn't change at all in her willingness to use soul coins, no matter what the player says or how much she cares for wyll.

idk. missed opportunity that wyll doesn't have any dialogue about this, of all things.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

when I want to write something self indulgent to give me all the angsty and cuddly hurt/comfort feels but I can't because I end up feeling guilty because I'm seeking after feels that I feel in an inappropriate place because my mom told me one time when I was 15 that I shouldn't search that out or it's probably sexual sin but it confuses me because ALL the feels happen that way for me even if it's entirely platonic and nonsexual and so I don't know if it's okay to want to write to that because apparently all pleasure of any sort, even over platonic stories, is sexual or comes with a possibly probably sexual feeling and I also am having a hard time figuring out what's genuine conviction from God and what's just my anxiety/OCD/perfectionism/fear of failure

[alyimoss]

anyone else inexplicably fucked up by the very existence of "its raining somewhere else" as a track?

[gigifujijifu]

Anyone else remember the little 88x31 buttons from older internet days? I've been remembering them a lot lately.

I make ffxiv ones in msp when I'm in queue or my bf is flying me around between quests.

[andromeda3116]

idk man i kinda feel like if you think reading my fic was a waste of your time, maybe you could save yourself some of that time by just hitting the back button instead of writing a comment to complain about it?

[oceanwithouthermoon]

idk if anyone else experiences this, but im SO bad at like picturing a characters voice when im reading something, like i guess some people can just automatically hear character voices of what theyre reading but it doesnt happen naturally for me at all so i always end up reading everything in my own voice.. but if im reading fanfiction or a book with a show/movie adaptation, i like to look up clips and try to listen to the characters voice while reading it so i can picture it better, and suddenly the text has SOOOO much more impact with the right voice.. i feel like this is gonna sound stupid or like common sense but i swear i just feel like im missing out because it doesnt have the same effect when i read it how i normally do..

very specifically talking about saiki, because he has such a specific tone and i just can't replicate it in my head no matter how hard i try, so whenever im reading the manga or a fic, i gotta listen to clips of him talking because the experience is so. much. better.

[origamiyoda]

[you-will-return]

--

(I keep telling myself that I won't post it and then I don't and then I feel annoyed with myself but I tell myself that I shouldn't post it and then I don't and-)

[adore-gregor]

Lol I keep on doing this, saying I'd come back to tumblr to only disappear again 😂😭