everiblog

Because what do you mean they went to the batting cages for some silly fun to watch everyone flail at an unfamiliar sport, only for Shane to need three practice swings before figuring out the force and timing needed to start hitting every single pitch? What do you mean he sets the course record at the mini golf place they have the Pike twins birthday at? What do you mean he learned how to play cricket over a long weekend in the UK? What do you MEAN your Canadian ass that grew up on a calm, tiny lake went to visit Rose in LA and just learned to surf from “some guy” one of the days she was busy??

Shane doesn’t get why they all think it’s so crazy. He’s a professional athlete, he’s good at full body and mind control as well as adaptability and hand-eye coordination, and he’s so used to being the best in the world at hockey that he views being mundanely good at anything else as barely noticeable. He argues with Troy over whether he counts as being good at basketball just because he killed them all at the basketball shooting game at a Dave and Buster’s

They all start making bets to see who can find a sport Hollander isn’t good at. Harris is convinced he’ll win with figure skating because Shane’s muscle memory will want to work against him with a technique that’s so similar but also so different, only for Shane to come out of an afternoon learning from his old friend who was at the Olympics with the ability to do simple jumps and spins and is insisting the whole team learn so they can incorporate it into plays. Harris is not allowed to make suggestions after that

“Here,” Ilya says in a would-be casual tone, except Shane can detect his anxiety by the way his back is ramrod straight. “For you.”

And suddenly, a stack of index cards is shoved in Shane’s hands. 

Curious and a little confused, he begins to shuffle through the offending pieces of paper. After only a few, however, he catches on. On one side of each is a Russian word, written in both the Cyrillic and English alphabets, and on the other is a picture or English word. 

Shane can’t help but break into a giant grin. “You made me flashcards?” he asks, glancing over at his boyfriend, who is insisting on frowning and staring off into the distance like he hasn’t just done something absolutely adorable.

“You told me you like these better than language app, so I make,” Ilya says, shrugging and shaking his head a little. “Is no big deal.”

But it is. It’s a huge deal. Shane can tell from the way Ilya’s painstakingly chosen words and pictures that obviously mean something to him or Shane or both that Ilya’s thought about this, and that Shane learning Russian truly means something to him. 

“You do not have to use–” Ilya starts, but Shane interrupts.

“They’re great, Rozanov,” he says firmly, already shuffling through them. “I–” But he’s gotten to a card labelled ‘Kotik’ with a picture of himself on the back. “What’s this word? Boyfriend?”

And Ilya’s suddenly smirking. “Ah, no. See your face in this picture? You are angry. Like cute little kitten. Kotik is small cat.”

so it all works up to the empathy boss - a bush era edgelord millenial trans girl who thinks she's Max from Sam & Max and is inherently unworthy of love

And it pissed me off so badly that I spent the ENTIRE WORK DAY today compiling evidence from every project my team has ever done for her, pulling past emails she’d sent us, putting together an entire case proving that she had been the problem all along. That she got projects mixed up, that she’d made requests that were nonsensical, literally everything you could possibly imagine. Screenshots of emails, reports we’d submitted, EVERYTHING.

This woman in particular has been terrorizing my team for years, her name is almost a slur in my office, I had simply had ENOUGH of her.

I put all of this evidence together and sent it to all of my bosses at 4:30pm. Then I took a long break to eat a sweet treat and drink some tea.

After my break, my bosses all called in an emergency meeting with me and they said they read my report and fucking loved it. And I sat on a teams call with my boss’ boss as she wrote my nemesis the scathing email I had always fantasized about sending, using the evidence I’d compiled, and hit send.

I spent almost an entire work shift drawing this tooth-rotting fluff