Quality Is The Goal

Grace, haltingly on the keyboard Rocky built for him: Wassup bitches. Fucking jazzed to—

Ilya wins his first awards and hes got nobody he really wants to thank after his team and coach cause he he hates his family but he knows his speech is too short so on impulse he goes "And I want to thank Shane Hollander for being slightly worse than me this season". Everyone knows it was going to one of those two, so everyone thinks hes an asshole to say that but whats new so it works for him. But from then on it then becomes a bit for both of them to thank each other in their speeches in a snide way as a reason they won.

Shane winning the Art Ross Trophy (Awarded to the player who leads the league in total points at the end of the regular season). and going "special thanks to Rozanov for missing at least 5 shots this season, he was a huge help"

Ilya winning the Conn Smythe Trophy (Awarded to the most valuable player for his team in the playoffs.) "Just want to give a quick shout out to Hollander for getting knocked out in the second round this season. Must hate to see me up here."

-the bit where Wyldon is like OH SHIT the pages nearly got killed because tradition dictates I don't teach them actual battle strategy and tactics. and I fucking love tradition but I also love pages not being dead, so I guess I better get my shit together on that one.

For showing up, even if part of you didn’t want to. Even if getting out of bed felt heavy, even if your mind was tired before the day even started. You still showed up in whatever way you could and I hope you know that counts for something.

Good job for pushing through. For answering the message, attending the class, finishing the shift, getting through the conversation, or simply making it to the end of the day. People don’t always see how much effort it takes when you’re struggling quietly. They see the outcome, not the strength it took just to keep going.

Good job for working so hard, especially when things have felt overwhelming lately. I know sometimes you carry more than anyone realizes. The overthinking, the stress, the pressure, the exhaustion you don’t always talk about. Trying your best while already tired is its own kind of effort.

And if you opened up today, even a little, I’m really proud of you for that too.

Vulnerability is hard. Letting someone see the parts of you that hurt, admitting you are not okay, saying the thing you usually keep hidden… that takes so much courage. It’s scary to hand someone pieces of your inner world and hope they will hold them gently. If you did that today, please know how brave that was.

Even if today wasn’t perfect. Even if you cried, shut down, procrastinated, got overwhelmed, or felt like you could have done more, you still made it through. And sometimes, making it through is already so much.

So, softly: I’m proud of you.

For trying. For staying. For carrying things that feel heavy and still somehow continuing. You don’t have to earn rest tonight. You don’t have to prove anything right now.

You did enough today.

The prisoner wouldn’t stop running his mouth.

So far, it had earned him a split lip, a black eye, and a head lac that would need stitches.

Shane felt a little queasy looking at the prisoner’s blood-matted hair, which was weird. He was a soldier; injuries shouldn’t make him queasy. But for some reason, they just looked wrong on this guy’s face.

“You need to shut up,” he hissed. “Before Thirty-Five comes back from his perimeter check and lays you out again.”

He meant it as advice, but the voice changer in his helmet made it sound more like a threat.

“Make me,” the prisoner snarled. He had an oddly compelling voice—deep and clipped. Shane wondered where he was from. “Fucking fascist stormtrooper droid.”

“I’m not fascist.” Shane’s tongue tripped over the unfamiliar word. “Or a droid,” he added.