gracias a la vida

Sure, Ilya’s depression makes him an unreliable narrator and he should have communicated his needs to Shane (which Galina reminds him of too again and again, especially after the Boxing Day fight).

But his depression doesn’t make him unreasonable. He did move to Ottawa for Shane. Yes, he wanted that Canadian citizenship but he chose Ottawa specifically, because it was the closest city to Montreal. He gave up winning cups just so he could stay closer to Shane.

And mind you, that in TLG Shane is actually embarrassed that Ilya is playing for a shitty team now and is no longer a worthy competition. And Ilya KNOWS that.

On the other hand, because Shane is already out to his team, and rumours about him being gay are already spreading, Ilya cannot come out to his own team. Because if he does, anyone would guess easily that he is dating Shane. That is another major conflict in the book as Ilya is not able to make close friends in Ottawa, at least the ones who know that he is bisexual and in a relationship with Shane. Meanwhile, Shane’s friends and parents know about him and Ilya. And Ilya cannot rely on Shane’s people all the time. He needs his own support system.

Then there is that weed comment which Shane made to Ilya during their Boxing Day fight.

I am not trying to villainise Shane here. He has his own very valid reasons for being afraid of coming out. And after the Boxing Day fight, he understands his mistakes and tries to rectify them.

But I am so tired of people acting like as if Ilya is being entirely delusional and selfish for not telling Shane about his feelings. As if Shane is a wonderful communicator himself and tells Ilya about his own fears. He never tells Ilya that the Voyageurs were being homophobic to him in the locker room. Ilya only comes to know how bad the situation is when the Tripgate happens.

In general, Shane is so focused on his reputation, that it literally takes him losing Ilya in a plane crash to understand that Ilya matters to him more than hockey.

"Shut the fuck up."

Rose and Svetlana have found themselves at the cottage at the same time, invited there by their respective best friends, welcomed into the secret sanctuary of two men who deserve a whole lot more than what they've been given. Svetlana, who is scrolling through Instagram, looks up at Rose's voice. "What?"

"Look!"

A hundred meters away from their lounge chairs by the edge of the lake, Ilya and Shane are kicking a soccer ball back and forth, playfully shoving at each other and muttering what could only be chirps under their breath. But as the girls both watch, Ilya pauses, grabbing the ball from the ground, and picks a stray daisy from the grass.

Rose and Svetlana watch, beaming, as Ilya Rozanov–renowned menace and asshole of MLH hockey–stands up with a shy smile on his face. It's the type of smile that the cameras and internet never get to see: a smile full of raw, uninhibited love and adoration; no arrogant mask dulling his sparkle. Then, he hands the small, white flower to Shane.

And Shane, who regularly slams pucks into nets with such force he's broken world records, who's led his team to multiple cups with the ferocity and precision of an army general, who hates showing even an ounce of emotion that isn't stoicism or competitivenes....blushes.

He blushes and grins.

"I cannot decide whether I want to throw up or cry of happiness for them," Svetlana murmurs, a huge smile on her face.

"Same," Rose giggles, snapping a quick picture with her phone and sending it to Shane.

Shane, as always, was absolutely unshakable as he sat at the table surrounded by his new teammates. Though the cards in his hand were almost as awful as he was with women, he wasn't about to give up hope. Eyes roving around the group, he decided to go in for the kill. "I raise you all two hundred," he said calmly, throwing chips into the center of the table, trying not to smirk as, predictably, the guys began to let out hisses and sighs.

"I fold," Boodram announced, throwing down his cards and shaking his head frustratedly.

"Same. Fuck you, Hollander."

"Menace at hockey and poker, not fair..."

Shane held his stoic expression as everyone gave in, until only one man was left.

Ilya Rozanov glared at Shane as if he was trying to decide if he'd committed an egregious crime. 

Shane held his gaze, blinking calmly, refusing to back down under his husband's pressure. Everyone around the table looked on eagerly, like they were spectating a particularly intense tennis match, heads snapping back and forth between the two men, waiting for someone to speak. 

Then–

"You are lying. I–what is word? I call you, Hollander."

Cursing under his breath, Shane slammed his cards down on the table and grimaced, the table of guys catcalling and laughing. 

"How the fuck do you always know?" Shane muttered, rolling his eyes as Ilya gloatingly grabbed the sizable amount of chips in the middle of the table.

"You have tell, malysh," Ilya murmured back, beaming. His hand moved to trace between Shane's eyebrows. "There is line, here. Shows when you say 'I hate you, Ilya. You are asshole, Ilya.' And, back...before, when you would say, 'I do not like you Ilya.' Shows when you lie, Hollander."

Shane felt himself blush. "When...did you figure that out?" he whispered.

"Around time I figure out I was lying, too."

Oh.

Well.

towards the end of their wedding reception, sun setting, looking rumpled and tired, Ilya kissing Shane's palm while Shane is very seriously talking to Scott Hunter

the two of them with a fan, taken at the dog park, Ilya holding Anya and Shane with one arm around his husband's shoulder and the other trying to prevent Anya from licking the fan's face

Shane Hollander sitting on the Centaurs bench with blood on his face, mouth wide open, Ilya Rozanov gripping his chin and glaring at the gap where Shane's bottom canine used to be

Ilya Rozanov with his fist in the air after a goal, a smear of red in the corner of his mouth

sitting next to each other at team tape review, heads bent together, Ilya's hand on Shane's thigh, Shane's hands sketching out a play in the air

Ilya Rozanov leaning against his car in the airport arrivals line, a coffee in one hand and a forest-green smoothie in the other

Shane Hollander giving his husband the middle finger after losing the shot accuracy competition at ASG by half a second

piggyback racing across the yard with a Pike twin each clinging to their necks

Ilya Rozanov, outraged, with a face full of snow, as his husband doubles over with laughter

wearing identical blank expressions the seventeenth time a journalist asks about their "off-ice chemistry"

Shane Hollander throwing his head back and cackling in a booth at a random dive bar in a random city, Ilya Rozanov grinning into his drink

total count on dec. 10 (12 days post season 1 premiere)

total count today (june 22) (206 days post season 1 premiere, approx 6 & 1/2 months)

me: no live organism can continue to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality