#we missed the trade deadline

[tani-b-art]

Brutally honest it would be best the Aces do not keep Kiah going into next year. Stat-wise, she is the most non-producing Aces player we have. She doesn’t score at all. Okay forget scoring (not really) but she’s not even providing the rebounding presence we desperately need! I’ve looked at stats from all other teams and their duo of forward and center almost consistently puts up double-doubles. Kiah has never given this production in tandem with A’ja. Alysha goes into this conversation as well (she is a small forward or whatever so I kinda don’t expect much defensively from her but she even matches up pretty well for her smaller size. She actually compensates for her height difference against much bigger forwards and centers she’s tasked to guard a lot better than Kiah). But her lack of scoring—it’s become a huge sore factor for us. She can be traded too if you ask me. A’ja can’t have a single game of underscoring or else we walk away with the L because not only do these 2 players not make up her slack, the entire team doesn’t. A can’t score under 20 or else we lose. Heck, she almost can score 30+ and we barely win.

I don’t get why the coaching plans never adjust to bench Kelsey when she starts majorly slacking in every area. When she starts selfishly taking circus shots and starts to dribble in circles leading to a turnover. Kate is right there to replace her when she decides to operate this way and it’s becoming extremely questionable why the coaching continues that. Sydney comes in way too late (but she came in tonight and was a negative impact). By the time Becky decides to put her in, we’re too far gone. Tiffany should start. We just need for her to lessen her fouls and knock down those uncontested paint shots a whole lot more. It’s so frustrating seeing how many layups she misses.

What are we doing with KB? Now, she’s just taking up trade space at this point.

Kate and Megan should be getting more minutes. Try something else. And I’m this close to saying…no, I won’t go there but can we please trade or sign for the number 1 (and 2) position? An additional guard, specifically a point, would be beneficial for Chelsea. She’s not giving the same minutes or production from last season since the injury and them not recognizing this and doing something about it 2 months ago is beyond me. And now, she’s also become an offensive turnover liability too with her over dribbling and force passing.

Still maintaining that post-Olympic Jackie is off. She’s on sleep mode or something. Something is different. Big nite tonight but that’s been this one game since coming back.

Becky…you deliberately sabotaging the team this season? It’s gotten so bad that I actually verbally said out loud to myself, “Trade Becky.” We talking about trading players—maybe we need to trade her. Coaches don’t get traded but fired. So there’s that.

We are running out of time! Regroup and repurpose now.

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[toffoliravioli]

ITS DONE

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: April 2024

Admin & updates

PledgeManager

Earlier this month, we launched the PledgeManager, where shipping is being facilitated. If you missed it, you can read the initial announcement here. We have been adapting the FAQ page to add further recurring asks, so please do visit there if you have a particular query as a starting point. You can view this here. We are working through all queries received - some are taking a bit longer than others, as they need to be raised with PledgeManager, or others involved, so we appreciate your patience in these instances where we are yet to get back. The most common question, which we include here, is the sock sizes:

If you need to change your size, you have the ability to self-unlock your order and make any adjustments you need to. For socks that are part of a tier, there is a button to unlock and modify on the bottom of your receipt where you can alter your choice. If they were an add on, PledgeManager recommends that you remove the item from your cart and add it again with the correct size selected and complete their order to finalize the change.

Shipping

We are also aware of queries arising about the shipping rates themselves. While we have been open from the start of the project that shipping will be charged at a later date, we understand that the resultant cost has come as a surprise to some and that some prices are higher than expected. We want to be transparent on this: we have been working with our fulfillment partners on confirming product weights and the rates for shipping globally during the months since the project’s completion. The cost of doing this ethically - ensuring that everyone involved in the process from creators to those packing boxes is paid fairly, as well as ensuring the packaging is robust at this scale - is substantial.

We’ve done our best to minimise extra costs around shipping, while also not cutting any corners – we want your pledge rewards to reach you safe and sound. We have also subsidised costs across a number of territories, but costs for shipping to many locations remain high. The final thing we’ve done is lock in shipping costs now, a year out from fulfillment. We expect third party shipping costs to increase over the coming year, following the upwards trends across the board so far, but we will continue to absorb any subsequent rises.

We want to assure backers that the shipping does not include a profit margin for us, and every charge to our backers is something we’ve tried to minimise.

We absolutely understand that this is disappointing to many, and we endeavour to keep making the surrounding campaign the best it can be.

The timeline

The PledgeManager will run across 2024, and close at some point ahead of publication date (Spring 2025). When that date has been decided, we will give everyone as much notice as possible.

FAQ

As above, here is the centralised FAQ page. This will be updated over the coming year.

Cameos

Prior updates had noted the deadline for this has passed, however given the new publication date of the graphic novel, this has been extended slightly for God Tier and Archangel Tier backers. Please check your messages and emails if you backed either of these tiers and have not submitted your likeness.

Merch and more

Things are ramping up at Good Omens HQ, first of all with this delivery of one or two mugs at the warehouse:

We’ve also got David Aja’s print featuring Aziraphale, Crowley and Dog, in their glorious orangey hues which will appear in Serpent Tier+:

The trading cards are at the testing stage for game mechanics, while some of the early design prototypes are in for artist variants and we really can’t wait to start sharing these with you when they’re a bit further down the road. Almost there.

For those ready to capture your inner Pratchett and Gaiman on the page (Demon+), we have your notebooks:

More from Colleen…

We’ve continued to see gorgeous artwork arrive from Colleen and here’s one that slipped into our inbox this week:

And we thought we’d sign off this month with a glimpse at our favourite antiquarian bookshop:

[sarioh]

rio i miss and love you and your analysis posts. what are your thoughts on the clethubs dynamic this season (in anticipation of the new episode tmrw)

hi aleph thank you so much for giving me a green flag to just drop a 1000 word rant about clethubs also sorry i missed the deadline and also sorry about the length. anyways personally i think clethubs is what you get when you put 3 people who are burdened with Remembering in a world where no one else really seems to. like, of course the other players remember and make references to events of the past, but they don’t remember in the way these three do.

to me this is best explained through a breakdown of Trust and how it manifests between each of them indiviudally. etho, especially, is so distrusted by most of the server. he’s a schemer, he has a reputation of being really unreadable and also unpredictable, but if you actually try to understand him it’s really easy to see that he’s actually the most straightforward person alive. he operates purely on debts and repayments. not debts in a trade sense—those are a business transaction and subject to being logically dissected and exploited. but debts in an emotional sense. etho offered grian mercy in limited life because of the diamond sword in episode 1, which grian had forgotten about entirely all the while etho had been biding his time and waiting for a chance to repay it all season.

cleo is the only person on the server who seems to really understand this part of etho, and therefore is the only person who seems to be able to read his true intentions. not only that, but she's the only one who really seems to approach the concept of loyalty in the same way. in the life series, alliances are feeble and fleeting, and for the most past actions hold no bearing in the future. it doesn’t matter what happened 5 episodes ago—if you’re not on my side now, you’re against me. there’s no such thing for cleo—loyalty and betrayal are not just momentary states of being. if you took something dear from me 5 episodes ago, i will never fully allow myself to need you again. even if we're in the final five and our survival depends on each other.

cleo and etho were direct antagonists in the last season and have no reason to trust each other now, but they trust openly despite it because better than most they understand the burden of a debt unpaid, and the burden of remembering in a way that no one else seems to. to them, loyalty isn’t about who you arbitrarily align yourself with, it’s a gesture. it’s “you gave me an extra pair of diamond leggings 3 episodes ago for no reason when you could’ve given it to your allies and now you have no idea that youre in my good books forever.” you can be on opposites ends of a war from someone but if they extend you a moment of mercy, well, how are you supposed to forget that? how are you not supposed to spend the rest of your life repaying that? they both subconsciously keep lists, not just of people they want to kill (like so many other players seem to), but of people who have extended a hand to them in a time where it didn't really make sense to. of gestures that were silently meaningful towards people they care about. "i trust you because bdubs trusted you" etc etc.

it makes so much sense that cleo and etho would both go immediately to becoming sworn allies this season after being bitter enemies in the previous series. because they both understand that there’s no such thing as fleeting alliances, and when they've decided to choose each other, it’s more than just a shared base or a team name—it’s something unshakable. it’s a thousand debts you take turns repaying.

and then theres bdubs, where remembering takes a different form entirely. for him, remembering manifests as shared history. if i chose you before, really chose you, then i’m going to choose you again and again and again. i’m going to hover in your orbit even if you don’t choose me the next time, because you and i both know what we had, even if we’re not supposed to acknowledge it. “that was a different universe, this is a different world. you’re just cleo” but i’m going to spend the rest of the episode hovering longingly by your base anyways. “this is our old thing, if it comes down to it we don’t betray each other” because the loyalty created its roots years ago and has been growing out of control ever since. you ask bdubs where his team is and he shifts uncomfortably and refuses to explicitly call them his allies, insisting that they just showed up around him but he's not really sure.

and just like etho, the other players never fully trust bdubs. he’s fickle with his loyalty and seems to be a split decision away from turning on his friends at any second, but cleo and etho both know that’s not really true either. their trust towards him comes from that Remembering, that fundamental understanding of shared history.

for etho, it’s the push and pull. it’s the knowing that we go so far back that what happens in between never really matters. you got caught in an explosion or a trap that i set in your base? well, good thing we have a hundred more lives to play with so we can just laugh it off like we always do. a stray explosion or a firing squad aren’t an act of betrayal, any more than a mocking comment about your height or a casual threat of violence. and when it really matters, we both know we’d put down our swords.

for cleo, it’s something unshakeable. bdubs, the known traitor of 3rd life, was fiercely protective of her and her alone. so she’s never wary of him the same way anyone else is—she knows that when bdubs really chooses you, then you’re marked for life.

so yeah. clethubs is three guys who share the burden of remembering. and also have some kind of unspoken understanding of each others motives and intentions that no other player seems to have concretely picked up on. but in a way that ultimately just culminates in them acting like freaks around each other and not actually making any direct effort to team mostly because, as usual, etho and bdubs have no idea how to communicate their intentions directly and sincerely like normal people and instead opt to hover in the fringes of each others alliances and make really weird and loaded comments . Anyways

[obsidiancreates]

These Kids Are Geniuses (Against All Other Evidence) [Part 1]

1987

Shawn’s little sneakers practically fly across the grass as he dashes through the gate, letting it SLAM! shut behind him. "Dad! Dad! We have to go save Gus!"

 "Whoa whoa, slow down Shawn.” Henry catches his son mid-run, picks him up, and sets him on the yard table bench. “Save Gus from what?"

 "He's going to a new school, the school for nerds!" Shawn’s face is red, eyes puffy, and he’s sniffling as he talks. “He’s going away!”

 "School for nerds? You mean the one he has stickers of on his backpack?"

“... Yeah.” Shawn’s voice is small, wavering.

“So it sounds to me like he wants to go there. In fact, I bet he chose he to go there himself, didn’t he? So we don’t have to ‘save’ him from anything.”

 "But if he goes, we'll never see each other again!"

 "Well that's not true, you'll have weekends still."

 "Nuh-uh! They give you enough homework for ten kids there!" Shawn throws his little arms as wide as he can.

 Henry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Shawn, look. Gus has wanted to go to this school for a long time. You need to be supportive, even if it means spending a little less time together. Unless you suddenly turn things around grades-wise to get in yourself, you'll just have to accept it and be happy for him."

Shawn nods.

Then… Shawn perks up.

Then Shawn grins.  "... You're right! Great idea, Dad!" He dashes off into the house!

 "Wh- Shawn! Shawn, what idea!” Henry gets to his feet. “SHAWN!"

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shawn?” Gus blinks at him in surprise. “I thought you said you weren’t eating lunch with me until I decide not to go.”

“That was yesterday, Gus.” They trade desserts, Gus’s dried pineapple slices for Shawn’s store bought cookies. “I have a new plan.”

“Please don’t sabotage my grades, Shawn.”

“What? Oh, no, that isn’t it.”

“Phew! My mom thought you would for sure.”

“I did think about it. But I have a way better plan.”

“... Can I know it?”

“Not yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

“I don’t always like your surprises, Shawn.”

“You’ll like this one! … Hopefully.”

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, Shawn, let’s see what the damage is,” Henry grunts as he sits down with Shawn’s report card. “Remember what I told you with the last one?”

Shawn rolls his eyes and repeats, verbatim, “If one more teacher write that you tried to convince the class a zombie apocalypse started at lunch, you’re grounded until one actually starts.”

“Alright, good. Let’s see…”

Henry’s brows furrow. He brings the report closer to his eyes, then farther away. And Shawn grins.

Henry looks at Shawn. “All A’s.”

Shawn’s grin falters a little. “Just A’s?”

“Just A’s? Shawn, your last report card was mostly C’s!”

“Why’s it not A pluses?” Shawn reaches for the paper. “Dad, show it to me!”

“Hang on, hang on! … Okay, uh, in the notes here it says you missed a couple homework deadlines.”

“But that’s not fair! One of those was because you and I did a stakeout!”

Henry looks around. “Keep your voice down, your mom’s home!”

Shawn crosses his arms. “I need to get A pluses, Dad, before the school year is over!”

“Why do you– oh.” Henry puts down the paper. “Shawn, is this about Gus?”

“... Maybe.”

“You know– I’m glad you’re working harder at school. I really am, this is a real improvement. But I don’t think I like you trading training, for schoolwork.”

“But Dad!”

“No buts, Shawn. These are both important for your future, so if you want A pluses you’ll just have to find a way to manage your time better. Like, combining play with work. Maybe do your homework while you hang out with Gus.”

“No!” Shawn stomps his foot. “Gus doesn’t know about this yet!”

“Doesn’t kn- Shawn, why the hell are you not telling him?”

“Uh… why are you using bad words around me?”

Henry shakes his head. “Fine, just… you’ll have a lot less time for fun anyway when you’re on the force, so just think of this like practice, alright? If you want to get into Meitner, you need to give up a few little things here and there, like TV time.”

“That’s just not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, kid. You’ll get used to it.”

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shawn, are you coming to my birthday party?”

“Uh, I don’t think so Denny. Sorry.”

“Why?”

“I uh… got grounded.”

“Oh. … Well, bye.”

“See ya.”

—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean you’re not going to Denny’s party? Your mom bought you that nice new shirt for it.”

“Um…”

“Shawn, be honest.”

“... I’m… studying.”

“Studying.”

“I am, okay! I need to get the A pluses.”

“Shawn, when I said ‘adjust your time management’ this isn’t what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Social events are important, Shawn! Not just for fun, but for networking. For example, I went to a retirement party I didn’t feel like going to last year, and I met the Commissioner. Now, we had some friendly conversation, and he said he’d keep me in mind for a detective position the next time it needed to be filled.”

“I thought the Chief picked that.”

“Right, but he can be influenced by other people around him. That’s networking.”

“And… if I go to the party, I can get to know other kids who can do things for me?”

“Yeah! See, you never want to take a networking event out of your plans just for paperwork.”

“But then where do I fit in homework time?”

“Well that’s for you to figure out, Shawn. But come on, I’ll call Denny’s mom and let her know you’re coming after all.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn sits in the principal’s office, his feet dangling off the end of the chair. Gus sits next to him, hands in his lap.

“I told you not to say anything to him,” Gus whimpers.

Shawn leans his head back, looking up at the ceiling with his good not-swollen eye. “What was I supposed to do, Gus?”

“Let him cheat off you! You were probably only getting a C anyway!”

“I was not!”

“We’re in trouble now!”

“Hey, no-one asked you to jump on him.”

“He hit you!”

Their little fight ends abruptly as Winnie Guster and Henry Spencer both enter at the same time. Winnie speeds over to Gus, checking his face right away. Henry walks at a normal pace, and stands in front of Shawn with his arms crossed.

“The principal says you got in a fight during a test,” Henry says.

Shawn puffs up indignantly. “Tommy was cheating off me!”

“Off you?” Winnie lets slip.

Shawn ignores her. “I told the teacher and he jumped me when I sat back down.”

Henry looks at Gus. Gus looks down and nods.

“Alright,” Henry sighs. “I know you’ve been staying out of trouble on purpose lately, so I believe you. Let me go talk to the principal and see if I can… get this cleared off your record.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but! I want this to be your last fight, Shawn.”

Shawn slumps in his chair. “I didn’t even hit back.”

“Biting counts as retaliation, Shawn.”

“... But I didn’t hit back.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, Shawn, moment of truth. Last report card before your interview.”

Shawn nods, practically vibrating with anticipation. Henry opens the envelope slowly, almost teasingly.

“What is it, Dad? How is it?!”

Henry looks up at Shawn from over the paper, and then flips it around.

Shawn is frozen for a moment.

And then jumps!

“WHOO! WHOOOOO-HOO! I DID IT!”

The full row of A pluses are carefully folded and tucked into Henry’s pocket as Shawn dances around the living room, and then up the stairs shouting the news to his mom. 

Henry will find a plastic slip to save it in later. —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn swallows and looks up at his dad, his little leg Shaking Unstoppably as they wait for his name to be called. He tugs at the tie around his neck, the collar of the new dress shirt still itchy despite three runs in the wash. “What if they’re not impressed?”

“You kidding?” Henry leans over. “Shawn, look around the room. What do you see?”

Shawn looks up. “Lots of smart kids.”

“Look closer.”

Shawn squints at the three other children in the room. 

One is a young girl around his age, balancing a chemistry textbook on one leg and a model of some chemical compound on the other. She’s mouthing the words as she reads along– she’s nervous too, and isn’t sure she’ll be able to remember her facts.

Another kid is a few years older, running his thumbnail against his braces and shaking more than Shawn is. His prepared demonstration is being crumpled in his sweaty hand, smudging the ink. He can only hope to remember it, or get enough clues from the smudges and rips to figure out the words.

The last kid is a little younger than Shawn, and he just doesn’t look like he wants to be here. He’s half-asleep, and his eyes keep wandering over to the door.

“Lots of smart kids still.”

“Smart kids who aren’t you. I know you noticed the kid with the crumpled paper– you know what you have that he doesn’t?”

“My memory?”

“Your memory. And look, she’d running over her lines over and over there. She won’t have the paper, which is impressive, but she’ll sound robotic. Now sounding natural and confident is always better than sounding overly-practiced. Remember that for when you talk to the press about your cases someday.”

“And that kid doesn’t even want to come here.”

“Exactly. You’ve got every advantage right now, Shawn. That’s a rare situation to be in. Keep on your toes, but don’t let it psych you out.”

Shawn nods.

“Shawn Spencer.”

He jumps to his feet and quickly walks over to the secretary. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, Shawn, you’re certainly an… interesting, candidate.”

“Um… thank you.” Shawn knows that’s not a compliment.

The interviewer tsks. “Poor grades up until this past year, several notices of erratic to poor behavior…”

“Well, um, that was actually because of… understimulation.” He pulls the word up from a memory of his mom explaining why he wanted to cry when he was bored. “It was too easy and I got bored.”

“Mmm, we’ll see. What have you prepared to show me why you belong here, Shawn?”

Shawn takes a deep breath, and a moment to look over the interviewer.

“Your watch is off by three hours, and your hair is really shiny but not staying in place. So it’s not gel, your hair is just greasy. That and the watch mean you were probably on a place earlier today, and your briefcase has crumbs all over the top so it was a business trip. You probably went to interview some out-of-state kids and had to rush back here.”

The interviewer sits back. “Very impressive reasoning for your age. And good attention to detail. But that’s not–”

Shawn closes his eyes and says “To get to this room the secretary took me down a hallway that had walls the same color as my dad’s cop uniform and a carpet that probably hasn’t been shampooed since last year. The secretary was wearing shoes too small for her, and she almost tripped multiple times because of it. She looked nervous leading me here, and kept checking for landmarks, so I think she’s new and didn’t have the shoes she needed to work here. She probably borrowed them from the lost and found.”

“How–”

“The hallway had pictures of old principals all along it. The first one is from 1972, then 1974, and it keeps going with two years between principals until 1985 when you had two principals in one year. The first principal’s picture is poorly taken care of, and someone drew a mole on it that never got cleaned off, so he probably did something bad.”

“That’s amazing-”

“While I’ve had my eyes closed you brushed the crumbs off your briefcase and reset your watch.”

“I– yes–”

“And the girl out in the waiting room made a model of sodium chloride but she misplaced one of the molecules on the end.” At least, if he interpreted the picture he saw her staring at right she did. He’s never been wrong with his upside-down reading before, so he’s doing as his dad said. Confidence.

He opens his eyes. The interviewer is gaping at him. Shawn shuffles his feet, feeling something like shame, something like embarrassment, something like resentment.

But he pushes it down. Because he’s doing this for Gus.

“Well.” The interviewer pulls himself together and clears his throat. “You’re certainly one of the most interesting candidates I’ve had today.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus puts his backpack in his locker and hurries to his thankfully-close first class. He sets his books up tidily on the top, arranges his pencils by order of sharpest to dullest, and carefully lines up his two erasers to be perfectly symmetrical on either side of the desk.

And he sighs.

Even as the chalkboard at the front promises him an exciting class of complex multiplication, his mind wanders, and he feels the Lack of Presence more potently than he’s ever felt anything in his life. He can almost hear his best friend giving his usual first day of school speech. “Gus, this is our year. We’re becoming the coolest kids in school, I know it. By the end of the year–”

“We’ll be at the top!”

Gus blinks. “No way.”

Shawn slides into class. The Meitner uniform red polo fits him loosely, and he doesn’t have it tucked in like everyone else does, and he’s wearing obviously fake glasses.

And Gus has never been more confused in his life.

Shawn spots him and lights up. He practically jumps over the desks to get to Gus, plunking into the desk to Gus’s right and haphazardly dumping his school bag onto it.

“Shawn, how did you–!”

“Uh, same way you did.” Shawn leans over and lightly punches Gus’s arm. “No way I was letting you go to nerd school all alone.”

“But– but you’re not–”

“A lame nerd? That’s why I’m undercover.” Shawn touches the fake glasses. “See? I’m your best friend and your bodyguard, Gus. I’m going to help you be the best nerd of the nerds.”

“... How?”

“I can remember everything the teachers say and write on the board.”

“So you can fill in my notes where I might be missing them!”

“You’re taking notes?”

“Of course I am.”

“Do we have to?”

“I think so.”

“... I should’ve brought some paper.”

“Here.” Gus tears a page out and hands it to Shawn. “But you better not get me kicked out.”

“I won’t. Promise. That’s the whole mission Gus. You and I are gonna become kings of the nerds here.”

“... I do like the sound of that.”

[simmyfrobby]

Being a bitch about the leafs getting a dewey is immature. Sadposting and making little edits about how awful Toronto is? Fuck off. Just because your team cant make the playoffs dont blame the teams that can. We will love him on the leafs. Get over yourself.

okay so i normally delete these kinda asks without bothering w a reply because i honestly think they’re kind of tiresome & because i know you’re just being a fan and if i can forgive wild fans for being unreasonable about their team i then i can forgive leafs fans for it too. 

with that said: braindead take.

just. stupid. so stupid, in fact, that i will write a reply because i think it genuinely might make me feel a little better. 

okay so lets start right at the end. WHY should i get over the fact that a player i like is no longer on my team. why should it matter that you’ll love him. my team was sold of in little bits to teams i either don’t care about or actively root against. 

that?? sucks?? 

i care about my team. i want my team to win. i want my favourite players to stay on my team and when they don’t that’s upsetting. this is not a revolutionary concept.

also the way it all played out was kinda shitty. i knew we would likely lose duhaime, but after losing pat i thought we would maybe get to keep dewar. and when the deadline passed i thought we were ok. hell, even connor thought he was safe. and that he would get to stay with his friends. and then it turns out we lost him at the last second. and that’s fucking gutting. 

“we will love him in toronto” ok. even if that is true, my favourite toy was taken away and given to some other kid. i don’t care whether or not they’re happy to have him. i didn’t want to give him away. were you happy for the canes when bunting went there instead of coming back to the leafs??? no because that’s not how this works. i don’t want good things for the leafs i want good things for my team. i don’t want other teams to win i want my team to win

and that’s allowed.

encouraged even.

“sadposting and making little edits” ok this is fair and accurate and i might make it my blog title if you don’t mind. it is funny to me that you interpret that poem as being about how much the leafs suck and not about?? how being traded suddenly?? and your best friend being traded away?? sucks??? poems are funny things and don’t say anything definitively, so you are allowed to interpret it however you like, but i haven’t gotten any angry avs fans in my inbox yelling about my "duhaime sadposts"?

but ok! directors note & something worth keeping in the back of your mind when interacting w this edit and also all other dewar edits: 

This is not!!! About you!!! 

i am not trying to hurt your feelings!! i do not care about your team!! for the love of god please just unfollow my blog.

also. and this is pedantic but i want to say it because its been bothering me. you don’t get “A Dewey”, you get Connor Dewar. the deweys were a matched set and without duhaime on the same team what does that even matter. you don’t get “dewey 2” you get Connor Dewar. congrats! that's great! he’s wonderful. please treat him nice etc etc.

being a bitch about the leafs is immature and i will do a better job of tagging my anti-leafs posts from now on. ill even tag all of my dewey poems as anti leafs if they're this upsetting to you.

one final thing: the wild not making the playoffs is very much the fault of other teams and i absolutely could blame other teams for it. theyre better and they beat us and now we might not make the playoffs. again: that's how this works. i get your point though, its not the leafs´ fault the wild have been miserable this season but i reserve the right to dislike them either way :)

congrats on the cute little guy. i will miss him very much. and again: PLEASE unfollow.

[honeypotdrops]

✿Note from Honey: this is just some crumbs i have to sprinkle for you on a new OC i’m working on, i’ll post more about her background and story soon if it’s wanted but i had to get this one outta the box first- consider this a light snack from me to you <3

✿side note: I REALLY hope you enjoy this- being new to this game, i was so hesitant to post this because i don’t feel as though my writing is to the quality to do so just yet but i just thought WHAT’S THE WORST THAT’S GONNA HAPPEN :) anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: literally nothing i don’t think? the slightest mentions of alcohol, soft soft, cute times of people reminiscing about home!<3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

♡ 𝒮𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝒟𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 ♡

OC Calico X Task Force 141

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Missing home was a part of calicos’ daily routine.

During the spare hours of the day she’d be thinking of the next time she’d get to cram onto a busy tube from Victoria Station.

She’d dream of the first time after a long time of standing in the cold and shielding from the rain with her friends outside an overpriced bar in Central London, sipping Prosecco, even though she’s always hated it, but never had the heart to tell them..

She missed the way home made her feel- Some days, more than others.

This was in fact, one of them days.

She was swamped head to toe in paperwork, deadlines, mission reports, “that person’s injured”, “this person wants to arrange a meeting” and the list unfortunately went on..

She huffed and moved away from her desk, throwing her head back and feeling tears form in her eyes and stress taking over her body.

her thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door- 

“Come in!” She called half heartedly.

Gaz struggled as he entered the room, holding a large box, covered in brown paper with small tiny illustrations of christmas trees and Santa hats all over it.

“this, my darling was left, for you” he smiled brightly, dropping the heavy package on the desk making a loud thump as it left his hands.

Calico furrowed her brows, inspecting the parcel on her desk.

“For me?” she replied in disbelief “What for?”

All Gaz responded with was a shrug “No idea, was just labelled as ‘special delivery’ and addressed to you” he smiled softly at her, turning to leave the room.

She forcefully ripped off the paper, the amount of sellotape on this thing was criminal.

with one last pull of the plastic, the box was finally open.

she delved inside, rummaging through layers of red and green tissue paper.

She found a small card, written on it was “To our Frankie”

she flopped back down on her chair, opened the envelope, and pulled out the card. 

There was a picture on the front of two penguins in hats and scarves ice skating around a Christmas tree. She smiled to herself and read the inside;

Frankie, 

Home feels strange without you here, we spend everyday missing you and thinking about you, we hope that this helps you in the same troubled times, and we hope it helps you remember the feeling of home..

P.s don’t eat them all at once, and remember to share, we know what you’re like!

All our love,

Mum, Dad and Freddie 

x x x

the tears that were looming over her began to fall, she smiled and held her hand to her chest, the warmth of love radiating inside her, like a glowing orb where her heart once was- 

she wiped her tears on the back of her hand, placing the card upright on her desk beside a picture of her, her parents and her younger brother. 

she got up and dove into the parcel without a second thought, she found all sorts of her favourite goodies and treats she loved from back home that filled the box to the brim.

Dairy milk bars, tonnes of them, so many she’s sure she could start her own trade here on base, wine gums,  boxes of Yorkshire tea bags, biscuits, the absolute lot.

as she dug deeper to the bottom, she found a small printed picture of her and her two friends, Shelly and Kate- it was one of the last pictures they had taken while she was on leave.

The three of them outside her childhood home, arms wrapped round one another, smiles and sunburned cheeks, all with glasses of whatever concoctions they were drinking that night.

she turned the photo over to another message, neatly written in bright pink and purple gel pen with small doodles of hearts and stars around it,

“WE MISS YOU TOO! CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU CALI” 

P.S- YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHARE THIS ONE!

LOVE YOU ALWAYS,

-YOUR GIRLS<3

 X O X O

Calico shook her head and huffed out a laugh, she peered into the box where there was two mini bottle of Prosecco and a tacky picture frame that looked like it fell and stumbled out of the nineties, the words “best friends” around the pink and green frame.

she slid the picture in and placed it next to her other ones that scattered across her desk, smiling at the reminders of the people who wished her a safe return home.

She placed the items back in the box and slid it under her desk, taking one of the chocolate bars out and happily munching away while returning to the work ahead of her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Calicos’ day was now slowing coming to an end, she had made a cup of tea with the goodies sent from her Mum and sat herself down behind her computer, shoving another piece of chocolate in her mouth before tackling the last piece of work ahead of her.

Another knock at the door appeared causing her to almost choke on the mouthful of chocolate she had crammed in.

“Yeah- uh..come in” she muffled out.

“Heard you had a delivery love?” Price poked his head round the door, smiling at her with intrigue in his eyes.

Calico squinted “yeah…maybe..” she replied cautiously while swallowing the evidence to try not to give herself away, her Mum wasn’t wrong- she did not like sharing.

“what’d ya get then?” Ghosts’ body moved in behind Price, his dark eyes making her break and her previous innocent look start to crumble slowly.

“Aye don’t be all secretive bonnie, let us av’ a look then” Soap tried shoving his way past both bodies standing in her doorway but failing and only his head appearing below the Captains.

Calico put her head in her hands and laughed at the sight.

“It’s like you lot get the most minuscule scent of a good cuppa and suddenly become like bloodhounds searching for it” she chuckled, shaking her head “is there more of you or-?”

“Yeah, i’m here too i just- i don’t think anymore of us can fit in this doorway” Gaz called out 

Calico rolled her eyes and smiled, motioning for them to come in and sit with her.

the placed themselves round her little space watching intensely, like small primary school children during show and tell, while she showcased the goods she had been sent.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Tea’s had been made and shared out between the group, biscuits had been dunked and wine gums had been shared, much to Calicos’ disgust but, part of her didn’t mind so much after seeing the happy looks upon their faces.

They spent most of the night snacking away as the sky got darker and the base got quieter.

Calico turned to the box and dug out a chocolate bar she had been keeping for herself.

She peeled back the purple wrapper and snapped it bit by bit, she handed a strip of it to each of them, smiling as she did.

They all savoured it, the taste that was so familiar to them all, reminding them of their childhood, Christmases with loved ones or anytime there was a bowl full of treats on the family table. 

Calico smiled at the sight, she nibbled the last piece and sat back in her chair next to Price.

He sighed contently finishing his last square and taking a sip of tea before speaking.

“tastes’ like home” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Note from Honey: If you made it this far thank yewww for reading <3 i really hope you liked it, i feel like it’s not much but BARE WITH, i have so many ideas for this character.. at the moment they’re all kinda balled up and bundled in a box lmao

Love ya!

-Honeypot<3

[spnfanficpond]

Weekly Pond Newsletter

It's the first of September, so that means it's spooky season, right? No?

Old Business:

Last week's #TweetFicTues prompts -

New Business:

SPN Reader Insert FanFic Writing Challenge: Gender Studies - The posting deadline to be entered into the raffle is Monday at midnight EDT! Be sure to send a DM to @mrswhozeewhatsis here or on Discord or you won't be added to the raffle!

Fishing For Treasures - September's theme is Pond/Ocean Trading Places! This month, the @fanficocean will post SPN fics, and the Pond will post fics from other fandoms. The Ocean will do this next weekend, the 7th and 8th, and here at the Pond it will be the 21st and 22nd. Click here for info on how to participate!

Manta Ray chat in the Discord server - Next weekend, Admin Marie will be in the Discord server on Saturday at 8pm EDT! It will be her birthday, so be sure to stop by for some cake!

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That’s all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there’s something you want to see on the calendar that’s not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @heavenssexiestangel, and @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

[slippinmickeys]

i MUST know about the unseelie court casefile

I’ve been intrigued by the idea of a missing persons case where the body of someone who’d been missing for 20 years was found, but they hadn’t aged at all. I also wanted to explore M&S at the very beginning of their sexual relationship and how that might affect how they went about an investigation.

I started it almost two years ago and have a couple chapters done, but haven’t had the time sit down and actually PLOT. Which casefile’s require. I also don’t want to release as WIP, which tends to take a lot more time because my neurodivergent brain needs the ticking clock of a deadline and the encouragement of comments to really get shit done. So here we sit.

I’ve released parts of it before, I think, but here’s the beginning:

Not far above the pavement of US-23, the forest dripped. The rain was gentle but steady, the highway as black and slick as a surfacing seal. Ahead, they could just make out the panning red and blue lights of a tangle of squad cars. The trees that edged the roadway pushed in and down, as oppressive as low-hanging clouds. Beside her, Mulder sighed.

They’d been awoken early by a call from a Sheriff three counties down and four over, who’d heard of Mulder by reputation. They had a body and a bit of a situation and would he and his partner come take a look? It was the first time that Scully had stayed over, and she’d felt embarrassed that she was there when the call came in though it wasn’t as though either of them had trumpeted her presence. She’d rolled out of bed and refused to meet his eye as he hung up on the Sheriff and dialed Skinner.

Later, when he walked into his kitchen, dressed and shaven, he’d said, “Listen, Scully, if you regret what we’ve been-”

“I don’t,” she interrupted him, handing him a steaming mug of coffee and finally bringing her eyes to his. “I don’t.”

“Mea cuppa,” he’d said quietly, raising the brew to his lips. She’d been forced to smile at the pun.

It hadn’t been fair of her to seduce him, though it had been a glacial, cerebral wooing, inevitable, really, in every sense of the word. Mulder was tender-hearted and obsessive and after their second time together, she should have known that no amount of her stoicism or sense of workplace propriety would keep them from wanting to be together all the time. Last night, she’d had a foot out the door and was pushing him away with one hand and pulling him back with the other, his fingers tangled in her hair in masochistic bliss.

They still weren’t sure how to be with each other, and that morning they’d walked down to Mulder’s car in a loaded, restless silence.

Mulder eased up on the gas as they approached the cluster of brown police cruisers and cut the windshield wipers. There were deputies leaning against hoods, wearing those ridiculous plastic rain beanies over their service caps and trying to appear important. Mulder pulled over, parking haphazardly on the berm and looked out his window, where a small inland lake spread out to the east and west, the body they’d come to investigate lying under a blue tarp on top of a thin strip of dark, mealy sand.

They got out of the car and the Sheriff, holding a large black golf umbrella, pushed his way through his men, stepping up to Mulder and holding out a hand.

“Thanks for coming,” the man said by way of greeting, and Mulder nodded toward him and introduced him to Scully.

“Call came in this morning,” the man said after trading introductions. “Dog walker found him.” He turned to one of the deputies, a younger man with blond eyebrows and a pixie-ish nose, freckles smattered over the bridge of it. “Avery, you got the file?”

Deputy Avery stepped forward. “Right here, sir,” the younger man said, handing over a beat up file folder; a brown, vintage-looking thing with a faux-wood finish. He gave the two agents a friendly smile and stepped back.

Scully nodded at the folder now gripped in the Sheriff’s hand. “You got an ID?”

The Sheriff sort of shook his head and nodded at the same time. “That’s why we called you out,” he said, handing over the file. “No apparent cause of death,” he added as an afterthought. “Forensic unit out of Richmond is on their way out.”

Mulder flipped the file open and read for a moment before looking back up. “Missing persons?” The older man nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Must feel good to close such a cold case,” Mulder went on before looking back down at the paperwork. Scully leaned over to get a look at it. The victim was male, was in his early twenties when he’d gone missing in 1976, last seen wearing white sneakers and jeans and a yellow striped top.

“You’re confident of the identification?” she asked dubiously, ‘76 being a quarter of a century past.

The Sheriff swallowed. “There was no ID on the body, but… we’re pretty confident.”

Mulder flipped the file closed. “Let’s take a look,” he said.

“Andy!” The Sheriff called out, and a deputy who had been standing near the tarp-covered body waved back. “Andy was first on scene,” he said to the two agents.

Mulder noticed that when he and Scully began to pick their way down the embankment towards the small beach, none of the members of the sheriff’s department joined them.

As they approached, Mulder got a better look at Andy the deputy, who barely looked old enough to drive. It was likely he’d pulled corpse-sitting duties in an act of hazing. His arms were crossed over his chest while the walkie clipped to his shoulder gave a steady susurration of dispatch chatter. He gave off an air of indifference, but he was plowing through a stick of gum, working his tongue at it elaborately, snapping it nervously through his teeth.

“What time did the call come in?” Scully asked, crouching down next to the body, her knees softly popping.

“About seven am,” he answered, then added, “ma’am.”

“Someone walking their dog, the sheriff said?” She lifted up a corner of the tarp to get a look at the victim’s face. Mulder watched as her eyebrows furrowed into a chevron of confusion.

The deputy nodded, continuing to gnaw on his gum, and hooked his thumbs through his shiny utility belt.

Mulder noted the pawprints and shoe prints of the dog walker who’d found the body. The sand underneath them was damp, but firm, and showed only a few other prints, all of them looking to be standard police-issue.

“Did you examine the body?” Mulder asked him.

“There was no pulse, no ID on him,” the deputy replied.

“How did you-”

“Hey Mulder?” There was a sharpness to her tone that made Mulder stop talking. “Can you take a look here?”

Scully peeled back the corner of the tarp, revealing a young-looking man with dark hair. He was dressed in jeans, white tennis shoes and a yellow striped tee shirt. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Mulder glanced down at his hand, which was still holding the archaic looking missing persons file. “Huh,” he said. Scully reached up and touched his wrist, and he knew that she’d find his pulse beating rabbit-quick.

“If you don’t mind,” the deputy said, clearing his throat. “I’m going to…” he hooked a thumb up toward the rest of his compatriots and beat a hasty retreat.

“Those clothes don’t look twenty years old,” Mulder said.

“Twenty six,” Scully corrected, still hunched close to the ground. “Can I see the file?” Mulder handed it over without a word, and Scully flipped through it quickly, her eyes scanning the contents.

“This can’t be right,” she said.

[swissboyhisch]

New Home

Liked by elhughes, njdevils and others

y/nhughes: Only missing Huggy in NJ now 🥺 tagged: quinnhughes, jackhughes and lhughes

view all comments

quinnhughes: I quite enjoy my peace thank you

y/nhughes: but I'm your twin 🥺

quinnhughes: sometimes you're worse than the other two 🫢

user: the thought of Quinn being by himself in Vancouver hurts me a lot

y/nhughes: don't be sad, he's a little shit

eliaspettersson: big shit*

njdevils: trade deadline is yet to near 😈

canucks: better luck next time

user: wouldn't be mad if all three brothers were on the same team

user: I can't wait to see what she posts over the coming season

ethanedwards: moose is such a sister's boy

nolanmoyle: and what was the rest of the team when she worked for umich?

lucafantilli: simps 🤫

lhughes: please don't say that

adamfantilli: what... she's hot

Liked by njdevils, quinnhughes and others

jackhughes: Perks of your older sister coming to live in the same city as you... home cooked meals for free. Cheers to your new place too 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 tagged: y/nhughes and lhughes

view all comments

y/nhughes: I really hope that doesn't mean you'll be at mine for every meal

jackhughes: nonsense

lhughes: of course sis

tzegras: you fucked up

user: TREVOR 😂

y/nhughes: I was just being nice

quinnhughes: that's where you went wrong 🫢

user: yo homemade pizza is bosss

user: are you seriously drinking water from wine glasses?

lhughes: we fancy 💅🏻

Liked by y/nhughes, lhughes and others

njdevils: We have acquired Y/n Hughes from University of Michigan as team photographer and the creative mind behind our team's tiktok. 3 out of 4 Hughes collected ✅ tagged: y/nhughes

view all comments

y/nhughes: Gotta catch them all

canucks: trade deadline is yet to near

njdevils: copycats

user: not the fact they're fighting over a photographer

jackhughes: put some respect on my sister's name. She's also a menace

user: not jack saying his sister is the family menace

tzegras: anahiemducks please trade. Jim Jam and I would much appreciate it 🫡

jamiedrysdale: we would thank you

colecaufield: on that note, canadiens bring my best friend back here please

y/nhughes: guys 🥺🥺

user: gonna miss Umich's tiktoks

nicohischier: and the better forward!

y/nhughes: thank you Nico, someone who knows where my talents lie 💅🏻

[slxsherwriter]

chase harper x reader please ? 🥺

Evening, anon. Thanks for sending in something. I had a few different ideas for this, but Chase just feels like such a good character for fluff, especially compared to some of the other Costas characters. So, I hope you like this! Sometimes, we all need a little fluff and someone there to take care of us when we get too caught up.

Long days as an editor were typical. The sort of territory that just came with the job. But at the twenty hour mark, even you were beginning to struggle. It didn't help, but it had been days of this, all in a row. A heavy deadline loomed and missing it was not an option. Everyone else had opted to go home or get in a nap. Too tired and too mentally fried to properly do the work. Not you. Though, at the moment, you were just starting to regret that decision. Your eyes felt gritty enough that they could have classified as sandpaper while your vision was beginning to double. It was a dangerous incident when you were editing footage for a movie. Coffee. You needed more coffee. Caffeine and a lot of it was the only thing that was going to get you through the rest of this process. 

Pausing where you were at, it was an effort to pick yourself up and not fall over. Simultaneously, your limbs felt like lead weights and noodles. Groaning, there was a conscious effort that had to go into each and every movement. The coffee station wasn't all that far from the room that you were in, but with the current level of exhaustion, it might as well have been a one hundred mile walk. 

Coffee, sugar, creamer. A simple order of things. Stir it, blow, sip. Thankfully, muscle memory guided you through the process. It took about half the cup for it to really kick in. It wasn't in the suddenly you felt far more lively and awake sort of deal. It was more of a you didn't feel like falling over or passing out standing up sort of deals. 

Standing at the station like a gremlin, cup cradled between two hands, you weren't entirely keen on moving. No, let it sink in before you even thought about going back to the tiny room you had been crammed into for far longer than the human psyche could really handle. But that was the way it went with this industry. Work to exhaustion, have little praise or recognition for the work, start the cycle all over again. Even so, you loved it, which was why you stuck with it. 

Your cup was just about empty when you were startled out of your moment of peace. A warm arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against a broad chest. A nasty comment was sitting on the tip of your tongue when a familiar voice spoke right against your ear. 

“Have you been here the whole time?” A glance at the clock confirmed that it was time for others to start leaking back to the studio. Chase Harper was a producer who was hardly ever late to work. And that track record seemed to be holding. You had been at the studio for nearly a full day by now, if the time on the clock was right. 

“Yeah. I think this is the first time I've left the room in….six hours?” 

“Christ. When was the last time you ate?” Having him worry about you created a warmth in your chest. It was early enough that no one was going to walk in and see the affection traded between the two of you so you felt comfortable turning around in his arms. 

“I guess this is the part where I say I don't know, and you aren't thrilled with that answer…” The unimpressed look that he gave told you everything. “It was at some point yesterday. I lost track of time.” He shook his head.

“Come on, you are coming to my office. You're gonna eat and get a little shut eye before finishing whatever it is that needs your attention.” There wasn't any room for negotiating there.

“Your office?”

“Just come on,” he huffed with a small roll of his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. His arm slid from your waist, but contact was kept when his hand wrapped around yours. 

The two of you had been dating for the better part of three months. Early on, it had been agreed upon to keep the relationship quiet and under wraps. For your sake and his, it was just the easier way to handle things. He had just finished up with a rather vicious divorce. And you? Well, it just seemed easier to let things settle before dealing with all the shit that came with dating a producer. Being seen coming out of his office while you two were likely the only ones here may seem a little obvious. But you were not about to argue because a small nap and a bit of food sounded perfect. 

The walk to his office felt like a bit of a blur. You hadn't even realized that he had ordered some breakfast, set to arrive in twenty minutes. Led to the couch, you collapsed and reached up to rub your eyes. The caffeine had given a little boost, but it was quickly fading. 

“You just gotta stay awake long enough to be able to eat, okay? Then I’ll wake you up after a short nap.” He settled down beside you and settled an arm around you. 

“You stay that close, and you're gonna lull me to sleep instead of keeping me awake.” The soft laugh that rumbled from his chest was felt as you rested your head against his shoulder. 

“I can think of a few different ways to keep you awake.” Fingers pressed under your chin gently, so you were forced to tip your head upwards. “Starting with this.” His lips pressed to yours. That was one way to be able to keep you awake. At least until the food arrived. The kiss was slow but not lazy enough that you could fade out into it. Just on the right side of demanding that it forced you to participate and succumb to whatever it was that he had in mind. 

Before anything could get too heated, however, his phone rang. He groaned softly but pulled away to grab it. Apparently, the food had arrived, and it was sitting at the front desk. 

“I'll be right back.” You nodded as he slipped away and moved out the door. Now that he had started to relax you, it was incredibly difficult to keep your eyes open. Your body swayed a little, and a few times, your head jerked as you started to fall asleep before nearly toppling over and waking up. Standing up, you decided moving was the best bet for you, simply walking around the rather spacious office in a circle. 

Chase was back in a flash, holding breakfast for the both of you, with a coffee for himself and a juice for you. 

“Here ya go. It isn't gourmet, but it's better than nothing.” You smiled. 

“It's perfect. Thank you.” There seemed to be some expectation about how things were perceived with him. But really, you couldn’t have cared less. You certainly weren't dating him because he made good money. You would have dated him if he didn't have a dime to his name. So, you always made sure that he didn’t feel self-conscious about things like this. Quick, cheap meals were always a good way to go when you were running on such little sleep. 

Once the food was gone, Chase had directed to lay out on the couch. Apparently, most of the work that he had to do today could be done from his office. At least that was what he said. It could have just been an excuse he used to get you to get a quick nap in. Either way, you weren't going to argue. Sleep was ready to overtake you whether you wanted it to or not. Curled up on the couch, you missed the footsteps that brought Chase over, but the warmth of his jacket  that he laid over you as a makeshift blanket was not missed. It smelled heavily of his cologne and caused you to smile, even in your sleepy state. 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. You swore you heard him cancel some meeting this morning as you drifted off, but it was hardly a problem for the present. Nor did you really notice him lifting your head and resting it in his lap, fingers moving through your hair. 

[onewhositswithbluejays]

Danny's trade certainly hit me the hardest, but I must admit that IKF's trade completely blindsided me and stepped on whatever remained of my broken heart at the end of this trade deadline.

This is my first year caring about baseball or the Blue Jays beyond it being my country's team. For this reason, I didn't know much about IKF when my baseball obsession began. But everything I saw and learned about him over the last few months made me really sad that he got traded away.

Besides the fact that he was enjoying an amazing hitting streak before his injury, I appreciated that he was also excellent in the field and always thinking strategy. It never seemed to be about him, but rather the team's success as a whole. Whether that was strategic at-bats or fielding, or providing comfort and advice in the dugout, he always seemed like a wonderful team player.

And let's not forget that adorably happy "Go Jays!" he said at the end of every interview even though our team was struggling so badly all season.

I think what hit me the hardest, besides not expecting his trade in general, was the realization that I had already seen IKF's last game as a Blue Jay in June. He hadn't returned from his injury or rehab assignment before he was traded so it feels like we never got to say goodbye.

All that said, I appreciate everything IKF did, and was, for this team. I will miss him, and I wish him lots of happiness and success moving forward.

[books-and-kids]

My safe families coach (caseworker equivalent) is going to call me today to discuss the details of someone else taking Deshaun. I feel so guilty and inadequate not to be able to finish out his hosting but I can’t figure out a way to. I’m sick and not getting enough sleep, to the point that I felt lightheaded and dizzy last night, but I could grit my teeth and make it through that for 2 more weeks. The problem is work. He’s not allowed back to daycare until he tests negative and is symptom free for 5 days. That’s totally reasonable from daycare’s perspective, but he’s still coughing and very snotty so I suspect it will be many days until he meets that criteria. And while hes home I can only half-work. He needs constant access to me. I’m wearing him in the carrier for many hours each day, but he won’t accept that all day and the rest of the time he has to be near me, climbing all over my lap. If I ignore him he cries. If I try to type, he grabs at the laptop. I can take some calls, but it’s a crapshoot what his mood will be like. Yesterday I had an important external call that I had to take off camera and mic, listening to someone else explain my work while Deshaun screamed in the background.

My job has been incredibly flexible and supportive but it’s been a week (we tested positive last Thursday night) and I don’t want to push it. Right now is busy for me also — I’m leading an important project with a firm deadline based on external factors we can’t change, and it’s already behind schedule. If I don’t finish my pieces of it within the next 1-2 weeks, it won’t happen in time.

There’s just no slack. If daycare is out as the childcare option, there’s nothing left. No partner to trade off childcare with. I’m not allowed to hire a babysitter (safe families would require them to be certified, there’s no prudent parenting standard), and even if I was I can’t imagine finding someone who’d risk getting sick, and even if I could I couldn’t afford it. I have family in the area, but nobody who’d volunteer to babysit a sick child while I work. (Mostly when I hear about people with that kind of family support it’s from their mom, and my mom is dead.)

What am I missing? I know single parents exist and manage sick kids. Do they accept the need to take significant PTO and the limits that places on their ability to perform at work? Do they accept getting no sleep so they can catch up on work after the baby is asleep? I guess if I was truly committed I’d do some combination of those things. Am I a terrible person because I’m not willing to? (I should also say — my job is really important to me. I work for a nonprofit doing the most important work I can think of. In terms of helping people, my job does that more than hosting does. And, I’m in my early career and I want to build my reputation as a top performer. I know there are different considerations for different people.)

Of the three hostings I’ve done that involved daycare, all three have had kids home unexpectedly. Charlie was home for a day and played independently and it went fine. Bella was home for 7 consecutive work days and it wasn’t great, but she watched a lot of Barbie Dreamtopia and we muddled through. Now with Deshaun, today is the 5th consecutive work day (one day off and then 4 days working while also caring for him). Is that level of daytime childcare need typical in yalls experience? If I’m not able to manage it, does that mean I’m not cut out for hosting and should stop doing it?

[wildaboutmnhockey]

remember when we did NOTHING at the trade deadline? good times. i miss them.

[racefortheironthrone]

Why aren’t there seemingly any Krakoa era-esque stories based in Wakanda, where the creator goes deep on the world-building for the nation and it’s relationship with the wider Marvel universe? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like most Black Panther books are basically always just “who is T’Challa if he isn’t King” or “why T’Challa is the worst” type stories. They’re boring and uninspired, give me my nerdy shit Marvel!!!

I think you've missed some key issues, because there's definitely been some that cover world-building about Wakanda's relationship with Krakoa.

From the beginning of HOXPOX, Hickman established that Wakanda had a unique relationship with Krakoa - while most human nations signed trade deals with the mutant nation-state, some did not due to ideological or geostrategic opposition. Alone in the world, Wakanda (and its protectorates in east Africa) didn't sign a trade deal with Krakoa because it was so technologically advanced that it simply didn't need anything Krakoa was selling.

This was a source of consternation for the Krakoan government, so they went to some lengths to try to bring Wakanda into their diplomatic-economic orbit - as we see in X-Men #4. These efforts were politely rejected, as the Wakandans preferred a more arms-length relationship in which Krakoan-Wakandan relations would be managed through bilateral monarchical negotiations between T'challa and Ororo Monroe, leveraging their personal connections to promote a friendly policy of non-interference.

This status quo broke down during the Arraki-Amenthi invasion of Otherworld, which threatened the very existence of Krakoa and indeed the survival of the whole world. As part of Saturnyne's scheme to foil the invasion through a tournament of sword-bearers, Storm was tasked with retrieving the Wakandan blade Skybreaker. This vibranium weapon was uniquely suited to Storm's powers, amplifying her omega weather control powers even further, but it was also sacred to Wakanda as it was also the weapon forged by the founder of their nation and the Black Panther cult.

Thus, when Ororo traveled to Wakanda to ask for the sword in Marauders #13, T'challa did not want to give it to her - but rather than refuse her outright, he attempted to stall negotiations and avoid the confrontation. With a literal deadline for Krakoa, Otherworld, and Earth itself breathing down her neck, Storm was unwilling to wait and broke into the royal vaults to steal Skybreaker. While T'challa ultimately let Ororo leave with the weapon, trust between the two of them and their respective nations was broken - and Wakanda cut ties with Krakoa, although it never declared formal enmity with the mutant nation.

At the same time, neither country could totally isolate themselves from the other - especially after Krakoa terraformed Mars at the first Hellfire Gala and turned it into a new homeland for Arrako and her people. Through the joint efforts of S.W.O.R.D and Storm, Arrako would become the diplomatic nexus for intergalatic politics and Krakoa the new foundation of intergalactic monetary policy - something that had enormous ramifications for the Intergalatic Empire of Wakanda.

This ushered in something of a cold war between the two nations, who had to maintain formal diplomatic and economic channels, but who secretly engaged in espionage against the other in order to gain intelligence as to what their counterparts were up to, since they no longer trusted the other to give them an honest answer directly. This caused a great deal of tension for Wakandan citizens who were mutants, as they became the obvious candidates to spy on Krakoa and Arrako for Wakanda.

As depicted in Black Panther #3 and X-Men Red #4, the former X-Man Nezhno Abidemi, aka Gentle, was recruited by T'challa to be one of his sleeper agents. Using the very real anti-mutant prejudice Abidemi experienced growing up in Wakanda as cover, Gentle spied on Ororo Monroe in her capacity as the new Regent of Arrako and Voice of Sol on behalf of the Intergalactic Empire of Wakanda.

Because Storm isn't an idiot, she quickly uncovered Gentle as an agent, but left him in place as a backchannel between their two countries, although the deception further strained the personal ties between her and T'challa. As both of them are professionals, this didn't stop Arrako and Wakanda collaborating diplomatically to forestall a Shi'ar civil war.

When Krakoa fell, ORCHIS attempted to take advantage of the situation and Wakanda's presumed anti-mutant sympathies. In Wolverine #39, we see that the ORCHIS operative Jun Wei was dispatched to Wakanda to work out a Vibranium-for-Sentinels agreement. When Prime Minister Folasade rejected the offer, Jun Wei turned to the criminal gangs of Birnin T'chaka to get ORCHIS' hands on rare earth metals - only to be foiled by the joint efforts of Logan and T'challa.