Pie corrupts. Absolute pie corrupts absolutely. Also, my name's Aleksa. I sometimes post adult stuff cuz I’m an adult so I think minors should not follow.
One day, Ilya, Shane and a group of their nearest and dearest are sitting around talking about how Ilya’s fans are so unhinged that there is no ad that Ilya can do that they won’t turn into a ridiculous thirst trap.
So as a game, they take turns coming up with something that could not possibly get deranged. These include:
Bank or local credit union. Mortgages, savings accounts, very beige branding. Ilya sits at a desk, fully dressed in a suit, talking about compound interest.
Response: No chance. Competent man explaining finances? In a suit? That’s an entire kink category. And you know they’ll put him in a vest with the jacket off halfway through, rolled‑up sleeves. Forearms…
Gut‑health campaign. Fibre. ‘Take care of your insides so you can play like Rozanov.’ Very grown‑up, very serious.
Response: COngratulations, you just invented ‘thirsty for probiotic daddy,’
City of Ottawa Municipal recycling. ‘Please sort your plastics.’ Safety vest over a hoodie. No suits, no jeans, just reflective neon.
Response: have you seen his legs in work boots? You’re just giving them ‘hot dad taking out the trash’ energy. There will be fanfic. There will be slow‑motion shots of him lifting the bin. There will be whole essays about how he respects the planet and also definitely knows how to fix a broken sink.
Transit safety. Don’t stand too close to the tracks. Bright orange safety posters.
Response: Imagine: long coat, cold breath in the air, camera catches him from behind as the train rushes past… That’s ‘mysterious stranger you see on your commute and accidentally fall in love with’ AO3 tag. And then they’ll Photoshop Shane sitting at the window of the passing train.
Pest control. ‘Hi, I’m Ilya Rozanov, and I want to talk to you about rats.’
Response: There will be edits of him saying ‘I can take out anything that invades your home’… which will lead to people who call themselves the Infestation.
Ottawa Public Library. ‘Read a book, kids.’
Response: All the “daddy” comments the internet can shake a stick at. Bonus unhinged points of someone saying “Rozanov can caress my spine anyday”
Orthopaedic shoes
Response: classic, older man/silver fox thirsting, with the additional bonus of Romantic thinkpieces about how Ilya takes care of his joints so he can still pick Shane up in his fifties.
Voice‑over only. Cartoons. Animated safety mascot. No face, no body, just the voice.
Response: deep, sexy Russian accent? Internet has no chance. And they’re probably gonna draw the mascot hot.
Tax filings: The Canada Revenue Agency. Literally just him saying, ‘Do your taxes.’ No visuals, no mascot. Just a PDF link.
Response: the PDF will get leaked. People will zoom in on his digital signature. Unhinged comment: ‘rozanov.pdf ruined my life’.
-.-
Later, someone in the group will post on their social media: “Okay, internet, hit me: ‘Least Thirstable Possible Ilya Rozanov Campaigns That Are Still Somehow Horny.’ Round One. Go.”
Within three minutes, the first meme arrives: a mock‑up of Ilya in a high‑visibility vest, thigh crop and all, with the caption I’M JUST HERE TO TAKE OUT YOUR TRASH, BABY.
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David Hollander is definitely the type of man to randomly put on a song and pull his wife up to dance with him, especially if she’s stressing about something, or worrying, or upset, or just because. She will usually lightly protest, honey, I need to finish this email, but she’ll happily go along nonetheless.
David does it for the first time in front of Ilya when the boys are visiting and Shane and Yuna are planning (arguing) about something new brand deal.
He puts a song on the record player (Yuna has given up teaching him the Alexa), and he takes Yuna’s hand without a word. She protests that they need to plan out these contract terms and how his son is being difficult about it.
Shane starts to protest at that, but doesn’t get far until Ilya pulls him up to dance, too. A very embarrassed Shane goes willingly. He’s watched his father do this for years but never thought he would be pulled up to dance one day. From the fond looks from his parents, they probably didn’t either.
Shane meets Ilya’s smile with a half-hearted glare, but can’t deny swaying to the music in his boyfriend’s arms feels much better than stressing about a brand deal. Ilya makes a note to ask David for anymore tips and tricks.
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shane is just definition polite young man. rose complains about her feet hurting so he picks her up and carries her. no biggie. he opens svetlana's car door. he writes 'thank you' on the bill at restaurants. he buys his mom AND his dad flowers. he always mowed his elderly neighbor's lawn growing up. he offers his condolences to his opponents if he catches wind of a family member passing. he won't let anyone pay him back if he buys them something. in fact, he is the first person the ottawa rookies go to if they want something because he will just roll his eyes and hand them his card. if someone is cold, he will give them his jacket. he's just a good little canadian boy who had the importance of chivalry taught to him early
😭 He's so happy he gets to have treat eggs like his owner, people always talk about how cats want to share your experiences but so do dogs! They wanna try what you try!
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(29. Soul - 1,169 words) - spoilers for The Long Game @hollanovmicrofic
“You need to change your voicemail.”
Ilya blinks at him, half way out of the shower, dripping wet. He’s got a towel partly around his body, his curls are full and bouncy and barely dried, and he’s staring at Shane like he’s grown a third head.
“What?”
Shane puts (more like tosses) Ilya’s cellphone onto the bathroom sink from where he found it in the bedroom, abandoned on the nightstand. It lands with a noisy clatter, tumbling into some cologne bottles. He lets out a short breath out of his nose, hands coming to rest on his hips, staring at that spot until his vision dots black. He nods, draws in a breath, then nods again,
“Right now.”
Ilya glances at the phone and then fully pulls himself out of the bath. He dries himself off, tugging on a white t-shirt and briefs before using the towel to quickly go over his curls. He then throws it towards the hamper and Shane almost swallows his tongue when Ilya steps close enough that he can smell him. And it’s like warm skin and body wash and home.
Shane draws in a sharp breath, a stinging along the bridge of his nose.
“Did you try to call me about your yogurt?” Ilya asks and there’s gentle teasing there, something that just tells Shane that he doesn’t understand. He picks up his phone and looks at the missed calls—there are exactly two (far less than that day and yet not enough). “I know it’s sad they don’t have your favorite flavor anymore but…you should get your mom to write strong-worded email about how the best hockey player in the league can’t have his strawberry-honey yogurt. Maybe you can get a sponsorship.”
“You don’t get it.” Shane snaps and Ilya’s demeanor changes instantly. He stands straighter, his shoulders draw back, and his gaze works over his boyfriend as he tries to gauge what’s actually wrong. Because it’s now obvious that something very much is.
It’s then that Ilya hones in on his hands shaking, that his entire body is trembling, that he feels so much like a live wire; barely contained.
Shane sniffs and suddenly looks away, attempting to control himself even though he knows it’s too late for that. The way Shane can feel the heat of Ilya’s body, can feel his fingers and mouth without him even touching him, the way his entire being aches for him, and the idea that this could have been ripped away far too soon—
Ideas he thought he processed, things he thought he dealt with; those same what-ifs come crashing back as they did in the middle of that grocery store when Shane called and Ilya didn’t pick up.
Hi, this is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail.
Hi, this is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail.
Hi, this is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail.
“I can’t—I can’t listen to your voicemail again,” Shane chokes out, shaking his head. “I can’t.”
Shane’s been told that grief isn’t linear, that it comes and goes in its own timeline, that it exists in waves that never truly make sense. But how does he even begin to explain to Ilya, who is living and breathing in front of him, that he’s mourned him? That it's been weeks since the plane incident and Shane still thinks about his life in two halves—the one with Ilya and the one without. That he’s lived both completely, to the fullest, and how he sometimes can’t catch his breath when he thinks about it for too long.
That he’s pretty sure a piece of his soul died that day, a part of him that belonged wholeheartedly to Ilya that he’s not sure he’ll ever get it back.
Even though Ilya is okay. He’s okay.
Shane finally brings his gaze back up to boyfriend, tears that were lingering on his lashes spilling down his cheeks when he draws in another breath. He attempts to wipe them away, his heartbeat in his ears and living in his throat,
“Shane,” Ilya whispers and he steps closer, as if to touch him, phone set down on the edge of the bathroom sink. But Shane extends his arm to keep him where he is. He can’t—he just can’t for a moment.
Shane wipes his face again and tries not to be angry; he’s felt a myriad of emotions, every single one, things he thought he’d never feel in regards to someone he loves so deeply. He thinks about those messages, the ones that popped through on his social media—the ones where Ilya was saying goodbye;
You are the best thing in my life.
I love you. Always. Maybe from the first time I saw you.
Whatever happens, I am with you. Safe in your heart. I believe it.
And how could he? How dare Ilya think that Shane could somehow live without him?
All these thoughts and a thousand more, all back in the forefront of his mind, taking up residence, living like a cancer that’s spread to the inside his chest, between his ribs.
Because Ilya didn’t pick up his phone.
Hi, this is Ilya. I will never listen to your voicemail.
How could Shane even pull together enough words to tell him all the things he wanted to say? A lifetime of messages in a voicemail Ilya would never listen to.
“I need—” There’s a noise that leaves his throat, sounding far too much like a frustrated whimper.
When Shane’s hand falls, when it’s no longer a barrier between both of their bodies, Ilya moves. He cups both sides of Shane’s face, soothing his thumbs over his freckles,
“Okay, okay,” Ilya nods, drawing him closer until their bodies are pressed together—stomach to stomach, chest to chest, Ilya’s arms hooking around his waist while Shane’s rest on top of his shoulders. Shane tucks his face into space above his collarbone, Ilya’s hands mapping firm circles along his spine until one of them squeezes the back of his neck. “I will change my voicemail, moya lyubov'. Right now. Right now. You will never have to hear it again.”
Shane sniffles and grounds himself in Ilya’s words, the cadence of his voice, the way it vibrates against his body. In the heat and smell of his skin, the brush of his curls along the tops of his forearms as he hugs him, in the weighted presence of his touch.
Ilya pulls back briefly, cupping Shane’s cheek again to wipe the tear tracks off. He then presses a series of kisses to his forehead and the bridge of his nose, gliding his lips down to his mouth. The kiss shared there is slow and intimate, a thousand phrases and promises left unsaid. Their foreheads press together afterwards and they stand there for a few minutes just drinking the other in.
Ilya holds Shane just a little bit tighter, picks up his phone where he abandoned it on the sink, and changes his voicemail.
Ilya really adores the pike kids but I think he adores and is a bit more protective of little Arthur just a tiny bit more.
Arthur who doesn't like loud noises, is moving with his tiny palms covering his ears as the TV blasts either a game or some Disney movie ruby has picked
Arthur who prefers staying indoors and playing with his Legos while his sisters chase after Anya in the backyard
Arthur who really doesnt like it when the food on his plate touch each other
Arthur who has a blinky thats almost chewed up but throws a fit if jackie tries to wean him off it.
Arthur who likes the buzz lightyear puzzle that shane and ilya gift him so much that he wants to do it every night
Arthur who loves his crocodile stuffy? Toy? , Chompy and cries everytime jackie puts it in the washing machine
Arthur who is sensitive to light but is also sacred of the dark cause his sisters have told him that monsters come out during bedtime
Ilya is the only other person apart from Jackie who is capable of bringing him from a meltdown
Ilya who brings him toys and puzzles which don't trigger his sensory issues
Ilya who loudly announces during the BBQs the pikes are throwing that all the adults are boring him and that he's gonna go and hang out with Arthur and build Legos spaceship with him. The relief on Arthur's face is visible from space.
Ilya who carries Arthur with such ease that people who don't know him believe that he might be the father of atleast 3 more babies
Ilya who can put little Arthur to sleep by rocking him back and forth with his beefy arms wrapped so delicately around the tiny little bundle of joy
Ilya who coos and softly sings russian rhymes to Arthur while he's in the bassinet
Ilya who crosses the threshold of the pike residence only to be tackled in the leg by Arthur who looks up at him with his big hazel eyes and 4 tiny baby teeth poking out of his gums and ilya swears he doesnt tear up when shane points it out
Ilya who is sure that his heart skips a beat the first time Arthur exclaims 'eh-yah!' While stretching his arms out with a big big smile on his face, waiting to be scooped up by ilya
Ilya who is the person Shane and Arthur sort of drape themselves on when things get too much and they need a breather
I could go on and on....I just love little Arthur and his uncle ilya ya know?
Hollanov lie detector interview where Ilya begs beforehand to be allowed to ask every Rose Landry comparison he’s ever been insecure about, and he totally plays it out like he’s joking (he’s not).
Shane is like no! It’s embarrassing! And this is public! And you wouldn’t make me actually do that to Rose would you? You know the answer, I’m gay!
Only Rose thinks the whole thing is hilarious and gives Shane the go ahead so there’s no real reason to resist Ilya’s begging anymore, still he holds out to the day before the interview.
“Fine! Fine! You can ask about Rose, but I get to ask about anything I want too!” And Ilya’s like yes yes of course my love. His boring Shane would hardly ask anything damning.
Fast forward to the day of the interview Shane is fondly exasperated with Ilya’s Rose questions, and Ilya is being a cocky bastard so happy with how it played out.
Until they switch sides and Shane breaks out his first question:
“Is it or is it not true that despite famously calling Scott Hunter ‘a nearly extinct fossil’ you think he’s hot?” The blood drains from Ilya’s face pretty quickly after that.
“Do you think Hayden Pike is a good hockey player?”
“Do you consider Hayden Pike a close friend?”
“Who do you love more: me or Anya?”
“Besides me who is your favorite teammate?”
He gets so nervous all of his lies get caught, and by the end his asshole reputation is in shambles. Kip takes a video of Scott watching the interview and he laughs so hard he can’t even comment. It goes viral.
“Rozy, big Roz, I got a question,” Wyatt starts with a slight slur from the other side of the fire pit.
Ilya has his feet buried in the sand with Shane leaning under his left arm, his back against Ilya’s side and head resting on his chest as he stares into the fire quietly. He’s holding onto Ilya’s hand that is over his shoulder, idly playing with Ilya’s wedding band.
The last few of the centaur players left from the long evening are scattered around the beach bonfire. Harris has his feet in Troy’s lap next to Shane and Ilya. Wyatt and Luca are side by side on the opposite side of the small fire, and Dykstra is to Ilya’s other side.
“Oh here we go…” Harris says, rolling his eyes over his shoulder to look at Ilya.
“Shuddup,” Wyatt says.
Ilya snorts and catches Shane’s fingers with his, lacing them together when he replies, “Yes, Wyatt, what is it?”
“How’d you—get the, like, those lines, on your like, hips, the fucking—what are they called the fucking V thing—”
“Cum-gutters.” Luca finishes.
Everyone goes quiet.
And even though there’s a fire five feet in front of them all, Luca looks more bright red than he did five seconds ago.
“Cum-gutters.” Wyatt finally breaks the silence by repeating what baby Luca just said to the adults.
“How do you know that word?” Ilya asks Luca with wide eyes.
Luca looks like he could dig a hole in the sand and hid his head in it.
Shane is vibrating from trying to hold in his laugher, it makes Ilya vibrate from holding him. He turns his face into their intwined hands to hide his smile. Harris is slapping at shock at Troy who is staring equally wide eyed as Ilya at Luca. Dykstra has a hand covering his mouth in shock.
“Uh—” Luca begins but gets cut off by a slurring Wyatt this time.
“Cum-gutters. Is that—is it because they catch the cum? Like gutters?” He muses. “Is that true, Roz? Wait, Hollzy, is that true?”
“Oh my god.” Now it’s Shane that is the one turning bright red, and not from the fire.
Ilya leans down a little to kiss the top of Shane’s head and looks back up at Wyatt.
“Yes, Wyatt. It is like gutters on house for the storm of cum that is ejaculated onto me daily.”
“Ilya!” Shane exclaims, moving slightly to turn his head around to look at Ilya in exasperation.
“Woah. Imagined if it rained cum.” Wyatt says, now staring into the fire.
Harris starts moving to their left, getting up with a sigh, “Alright, I think that’s enough drunk hockey players for me. Babe. Bed.”
Troy gets up without argument.
“I agree,” Shane says, getting up. “Ilya, time to go.”
Ilya looks at Wyatt, Luca and Dykstra and shrugs, “Sorry, boys, have to go, the weathman says there is big storm tonight. My gutters are going to get so full.”
Luca is hiding his face in his hands as Wyatt cackles and Dykstra leans over to high five him.
Shane grabs him by the ear to pull him to his feet.
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