Fandom and soft aesthetic side blog ♡ She/Her/He/Him/It ♡Just call me Sham or Espí ♡ Header by @mtrenchs ♡ icon from the lofi avatar picrew by @brothercraphole
hey man. nice regional dialect. mind if i apply some baseless assumptions about your personhood to it? i was also gonna prescribe morality to it as well. if that’s cool with you
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Hello just incase you want to hear about nurse Shane and security guard Ilya, Ilya is going away for a few nights with his boys on a camping trip for Marley’s birthday. And like it’s fine Shane can cope without Ilya for a few nights, he has many times before when their schedules don’t lie up but he’s been having a fucking Bad couple weeks. Heavy shifts, struggling sleeping coming on and off nights, back pain from work- headaches and it just. He’s just sad that he won’t get to see Ilya, fall asleep with him. Eat dinner together and makeout in the shower and watch a movie (fool around) on the couch. And Ilya can tell, the way he’s gone a bit quiet, the way he is extra sensitive to external input. Asking Ilya to turn the tv down when it’s already soft, wrinkling his nose at one of the shirts Ilya offered him after a shower together, picking through for a different one instead. Anyway, Ilya gets it, that Shane needs comfort when he’s feeling overwhelmed and exhausted with work and Ilya is part of his comfort. But he also knows Shane would never want to stop him from plans, from a trip he’d been looking forward to. So ! Ilya does what he can. The day he’s due to go Shane’s out his door early for a morning shift with an extra minute of soft goodbye kisses that will maybe make him a little late. Ilya sets to work, going to his place to pack and lock up but not before bringing some things back to Shane’s. Ilya’s pillow, an old hoodie Ilya’s had for years, soft worn cotton, oversized and heavy fabric with a nice big hood. He drops off some snacks for Shane he collected for him on his way home. But, most importantly, Benjamin. He tucks the large teddy into Shane’s bed, Ilya’s side of the bed before remaking it around him.
Ilya’s heart about bursts out of his chest when he gets a text later that night through the shitty reception at the campsite a selfie, Shane in Ilya’s hoodie, Benjamin cuddled to his chest and Shane’s face half hidden in the soft of the teddys fur. Ilya replies “my cute boy” and Shane sends back a 😚 kissey and then Ilya replies “you’ll be good and get some sleep for me yeah baby? Benjamin will look after you for me x” and Shane replies “okay, promise” and Ilya replies “send me some more pictures before you sleep okay? Only if you can” and Shane replies with another picture already, always so good for Ilya. This one he’s smiling soft and small at the camera, the image a tiny bit blurry, his lips so pink and hair messy soft down on his forehead. Ilya stares at it so long Marley throws a burger bun at his head.
i was thinking about nurse shane and security ilya doing what they can to have their schedules align to the same nights so they have a fairly decent routine together (as much as you can in a hospital)
then shane is asked/assigned to cover a day shift nurses maternity leave so their schedules are completely off. at work during opposite times, sleeping during opportune quality time at home, no overlapping breaks aside from catching each other shift changes.
they both do a lot of little things for each other during that time to make up for it like shane packing ilya lunches with cute notes and ilya leaving flowers or small surprises for shane to find when he gets home. they do of course get their off days when they do manage to overlap, but the sleep adjustments still make it difficult to fully enjoy it.
both are just desperately looking forward to being back on the same wake windows and working schedules, already planning on using vacation time in between to realign shane’s sleep schedule and just spend time together.
Hiii sugarloaf 🦦
Yum I love this so much much baby ! In my reality (which I think is different from the US and maybe UK and idk about Canada lol) Shane is on a rotating roster, so he’s on a mix of 12hr days and nights through the month. Ilya would be a more set roster in my mind- so like he does a week of days then a week of nights alternating.
So let’s say it’s like ten or so months into being together, and they have found a way to make their rosters work most months with Shane’s always changing schedule and Ilya’s set one- some are a bit more spotty than others but they are seeing each other at least two or three times a week, outside of work at minimum. And it’s not always easy- sometimes it’s an hour and compromising naps and getting up early or staying up late, or swapping shifts but they make it work pretty well.
And really Shane’s place has kinda become their place now- (it’s not official, the living together in all ways but the actual asking of it and transfer of leases) - it’s closer to the hospital and Ilya has a roommate and Shane had shyly said one afternoon when Ilya had spoken about going home when Shane went to work that he liked knowing Ilya was there to come home to. He liked the idea of Ilya sleeping in his bed, even if Shane couldn’t be in it with him. And really- it gives them more time, coming home to the same place. (They haven’t laid it out together, in conversation, but Shane thinks Ilya must feel it too, the warmth of someone to come home to, of building something together, of not feeling so alone, of having a piece of life, something real and human and soft to come home to after long shifts in hospital walls and hospital chaos)
But then Shane is moved to a night shift roster for a month to cover a co worker who is off on workers compensation with an injury. Of course in divine timing Ilya is on three weeks of day shifts because they are installing new duress alarms and safety threat code responses across the building and they need extra support in hours for testing them.
It’s the first time they are stuck in complete opposite rosters, so they sit down and compare the days. At Shane’s instruction- he literally says they need to ‘have a meeting’ about it and then Ilya is too busy kissing Shane stupid over that, then fucking Shane stupid over that, for them to have a meeting about it until later that evening.
The meeting is very Formal, Shane in Ilya’s lap on the couch with his laptop open, calendar app pulled up that’s synced up to the app on his phone. Ilya is like valiantly trying not to get hard over Shane having a whole calendar set titled
Ilya 🧸💗 nestled there on the side between:
🏥 Work 🦋 Social life ✅ Reminders 🏋🏻 Gym 📌 Appointments 👟 Runs
The emojis alone (and the fact ilya got 2!) made it hard for Ilya to focus on the screen and not biting at Shane’s neck and ears and getting his hand down his sweats as they settled onto the couch. Shane had slapped Ilya’s hand away when he tried. Shane pulls up his roster online and Ilya logs into his on his phone, and Shane ads in his shifts first, then Ilya’s to his calendar. It leaves them with 3 days they are both off shift across the whole month, one of which will be taken by going to see Shane’s parents, time that Ilya values, having a family again, but it leaves them with less time alone than they barely have already.
They are quiet as they look at the screen, and Shane tips his head back with a long breath, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder and their chests shift together, the tap drips in the sink. Ilya’s hand pushes away Shane’s hoodie to put his hand flat over the soft skin of Shane’s stomach. Shane sits up after another breath, and starts highlighting the shifts they cross over, the time they could find at the hospital, crossing over as they arrive for and leave from shift.
Fondness washes over Ilya then, so immense that he rubs the curve of Shane’s waist, tucks his nose and lips to the back of Shane’s neck and watches over his shoulder as his boyfriend carefully finds every pocket of time they can have. Ilya pushes his nose into the short hairs st Shane’s neck, takes a long breath in, seaweed shampoo, soap and warmth.
His Shane.
He tucks his smile behind Shane’s ear as Shane mutters about him being distracting. Ilya slips his fingertips down into the waistband of Shane’s sweatpants, hand resting still. He doesn’t move, still until Shane fusses his hips slightly and Ilya smirks. “No distractions” he replies and Shane huffs, Ilya slips his fingertips a centimetre down. It becomes a game and soon the meeting is very much over and the laptop is on the floor and Ilya is forcing Shane’s hip still with one hand as he works his cock with the other.
Ilya makes a screenshot of the calendar his screensaver on the first of the month, (he’s really to blame that the sight of it makes him half hard, thinking of shane all squirmy and flushed and cute in his lap as he tries hard to stay still for Ilya as Ilya works him over in a slow and tight grip).
The night before their rosters seperate them, they spend it mostly in bed, a long sleep in together, lazy cosy morning sex- then gym and a long hot shower and getting off together again like that, kissing under the hot water all hands and mouths. Then it’s back to bed with promises from Ilya he will help Shane meal prep later “later sweetheart I promise but we won’t get to fall asleep together so many nights, I’ll forget the shape of you, the feel of you, you’ll be a distant memory while I hold Benjamin close and cry-“ and a slap of shanes hand to the side of his head which had turned into grappling which had turned into play fighting which had turned into more sex.
The start first week isn’t so bad, just like a misaligned run of shifts in any other month, which happens often. But then it stretches into six days without seeing each other, opposite routines of sleeping and waking and they both start to feel lonely. Feel the space between them, the coming home to an empty bed. The catching texts and calls in the hours they are both awake.
Finally on the sixth day, they overlap Ilya is coming to the end his day shift and shane is coming in for his night. Shane is so excited at the thought of being able to actually see Ilya, he finds himself parked in the carpark a full hour before shift starts. Usually the absolute earliest he’d get there is thirty minutes before. He texts Ilya a ljttle “👋🏼.”Who texts back “😚😚😚😚 already????” Which makes Shane flush, happy to know Ilya is as eager as he is at the prospect of seeing each other.
“P3 level 1” Shane replies, because he usually parks in the further carpark P6 because it’s cheaper, but P3 is just on the edge of the back exit of the main building, and Shane just figures it might be easier to see ilya for longer this way.
It takes Ilya four minutes to be opening Shane’s passenger side door, a few droplets of misty rain in his curls.
He smells like the hospital, but still a bit like his cologne and his cheeks are pink and just curls are messy and he’s smirking and saying “come here often?” But Shane is across the dash before Ilya’s favourite line is fully out.
His hand cups Ilya’s cheek and he’s pressing their lips together, firm but civil, closed lipped, a soft lock of mouths. Ilya hums against his mouth, a pleased sound and leans into the kiss just as Shane pulls back a breath, noses still pressed together.
“Hi, sorry” Shane mumbles, and his eyes are staring at Ilya’s mouth, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “I just missed you” he confesses and Ilya hums, his hand cups the back of Shane’s neck and he kisses soft pretty pecks all over his pouty mouth.
“No sorry. Is cute” Ilya mutters, one hand finding Shane’s to fiddle with, pulling it into his lap, tracing the back of his hand with his thumb.
“I missed you too” Ilya adds, kisses to the left of Shane’s nose, his Cupids bow, his chin.
“Really?” Shane asks, voice low and Ilya laughs, nuzzles his face into Shane’s cheek.
“Yes, really can you believe it?” Ilya whispers and his hand catches Shane’s cheek, thumb gripping his cheek gently, making his lips pout just so.
“Missed you” Ilya exhales again, and leans forward to kiss Shane’s pout once, twice, a third time before they fall into a warm kiss, too much for the carpark at work Ilya realises when he feels a soft whimper from Shane into his mouth. Ilya pulls back and Shane huffs and Ilya nods, moves his hand to the back of Shane’s neck. His hand scuffed gently, squeezing the back of his neck, thumb rubbing at his hairline.
They breathe in silence for a while, like that, soft and slow, Ilya rubbing at the back of Shane’s warm neck and Shane’s hand tangled with his fidgeting against his thigh.
Shane turns his head in, knocks his nose against Ilya’s cheek and is pulling back with a slow breath in. His eyes are lidded low, warm and Ilya wants to drag him into the back seat, lay him back and kiss and bite at his hips until Shane is fussing and pulling at his hair and asking for his mouth-
Ilya swallows and rubs his thumb across Shane’s bottom lip, knocks their noses together and pulls back enough to catch Shane’s eyes. His lashes are dark, long and Ilya maps the pretty pattern of his freckles.
“Missed you a lot I think” Shane says with a small huffing laugh and Ilya nods, thumbs his thumb under Shane’s ears.
“Mm. Is hard to” Ilya shrugs. “Show you how much, here” he smirks and Shane rolls his eyes and flicks at Ilya’s shoulder, pulls back and flops against the seat.
“Perv” Shane grumbles and Ilya wiggles his eyebrows and says “well you know how I like you in your scrubs” and then Shane is calling him gross and an asshole and shoving his hand in his face and Ilya is nipping at his fingers.
They settle then, hands tangled and they talk soft and low, catch up and check in and get almost fifteen minutes before Ilya’s radio crackles to life. His supervisors voice cuts through, low, and Shane can’t hear it but Ilya can- clicks in to, answers quickly into it.
“You have to go?” Shane asks and his stomach curls, bites at his bottom lip and hates the cold anxiety that washes up through his ribs.
“Mm. Probably” he shrugs
“Come with me? I’ll walk you to your ward and then maybe you can come for one round with me before you start?” Ilya suggests and Shane is nodding nodding, eager for more time.
The month continues like that, stolen moments in cars or break rooms, in hallways.
They hold hands behind the old outpatients building, steal a small cuddle and then go for a short walk to get coffee when Ilya is coming on shift in the morning and Shane’s shift has just ended.
Ilya drops off coffees, snickers, a huge box of doughnuts for all of Shane’s ward. Once, Ilya’s hoodie tucked into Shane’s locker- with a sticky note “for your 4am freeze” with a silly drawn face and heart. Shane pulls it on before midnight, once his patients are settled and presses his face into the fabric to breathe in Ilya as he documents.
It’s phone calls on breaks, endless stream of texts, photos of them in empty beds, at work, at the gym alone. Dirty texts, needing texts, complaints about how much they want.
Of course Shane is leaving stacked up meal prep in the fridge. Notes for his Ilya “have a good shift baby” “no cigarettes on break :( even if I’m not there to smell it” “handsome boy I miss you” and “enjoy your food. Love you” sometimes badly drawn pictures of stick figures drawing hands, hearts.
Shane comes home one morning to a huge bundle of flowers, hot decaf coffee from his favourite cafe and a pastry on the bench after a terrifying mess of a shift the night before.
Shane makes the bed before he goes to shift, fresh pressed sheets, electric blanket tucked in the bottom of the bed, for Ilya’s eternally cold toes and feet since Shane isn’t there to warm them.
Of course the 3 actual days they have off together are desperate and hot and needy, but also full of so much fucking sleep. They fuck like desperate animals, grasping hands and hungry mouths and pass out, sleep heavy curled up like puppies and wake up and eat and makeout and sleep more and fuck more and watch tv and sleep again. Shane gets the desperate release, as does Ilya of being each others, being owned. The feeling of Ilya owning his pleasure, of being taken care of, of letting go- getting to let go and have Ilya hold him in his palms, know what he needs. Shane cries from the relief of floating out of his head finally, toes curling against Ilya’s calves, clinging Ilya to him desperately, arms tight around him. Ilya isn’t much better, teary as he holds Shane close to him, cooes to him and covers him in kisses, smooths his hands over Shane’s body and feels the trust and love and safety of their connection. Feels the dizzy heat of Shane’s devotion to him, Shane giving away his body to him, of letting Ilya guide him into what he needs.
Ilya had fucking missed the pleasure of Shane desperate to please him, Shane under his command, Shane’s eyes dark and soft and hanging on every word. Beautiful Shane, his, his his.
The manipulate their rosters once they are back to normal, find a stretch of five days and drives hours away to a small Airbnb by the beach and it’s just them and wine and car games and wrestling and fucking and eating food and getting high together, one night, a rare indulgence of slow and steady star gazing together.
bug what's nurse shane up to rn.....i gotta know......
Shane’s said four words since he woke up fifteen minutes ago. He’s sat at the counter, stool pulled up to it, hunched tiredly over a bowl of cereal. He’s in his scrub pants and no shirt, as usual for pre shift dinner to avoid any spills or smells on his top.
Ilya is leant in the doorway of Shane’s kitchen. He’d finished his short shift at three in the afternoon, been at Shane’s place by half past.
He’d let himself in quietly, (using the key Shane had given him two months ago now to come go and he pleased) very careful as he moved around the home, to stay quiet and not wake Shane from his pre night shift sleep as he changed into the sweats he bought with him.
Shane would be up at four thirty to stretch, shower, do his skincare change and then out in the kitchen by five. Ilya had folded and stacks Shane’s clothes from the dyer, and filled Shane’s waterbottle while he waited for his boy to wake up.
They’d have and hour and half before Shane would have to leave before shift, it wasn’t much, but Ilya hadn’t seen Shane outside of in passing at work in a few days and he’d missed him. The chance to kiss and cuddle and sit with his boy was worth it. Ilya was curled up on the couch when the door to Shane’s bedroom clicked open, and his Shane had shuffled out, in his scrub pants and socks, rubbing at his right eye with his fist.
Ilya had gotten so absorbed in real housewives that he’d not even realised the time, and his eyes darted to his phone. His stomach flipped a little at the 5:21 on the screen. Ilya’s eyes darted back to Shane, who had come to a stop at the end of the couch. He’d leant down and pressed his lips on Ilya’s head, mumbled “hi baby” and sniffled before shuffling onward to the kitchen before Ilya could reply.
Ilya watched the slump of his retreating boyfriends back. This was bad, late out of bed and no kiss on the lips. Ilya had managed to sit still for all of five minutes before he was climbing off the couch and following after Shane. He wanted to give him space, to wake up, to settle, to seek out Ilya when he was ready for him. But Ilya had missed him, and a Shane out of pattern was unpredictable.
It bought them to now, Ilya leant in the door with Shane bringing spoonfuls of cereal to his mouth, the soft clink of his spoon and the distant noise of the tv the only sound in the room.
“Sleep okay?” Ilya asked softly, and then went about making Shane’s pre shift coffee- half to do something with his hands and half because Shane was already late to get up, late to have his coffee in hand warm and fresh ti help wake him up.
“Mmhm” Shane hummed, nodded, muffled a yawn into his hand.
“Work ok?” Shane asked then, voice low and scratchy with sleep. Ilya turned to look at him as the coffee machine spluttered and spilled smooth coffee into Shane’s mug. Shane had a pillow crease down his cheek, his eyes were hazy with the edges of sleep, chest flushed with sleep warmth. Ilya wanted to bundled him up whole, maybe bite him a little. Maybe kiss and suck at the warm skin of his neck while he got him all cosy in his lap and touched him until that bunch of his shoulders dropped and the loosened into something softer, warmer, loose limbed.
Shane looked at him with expectant brows and Ilya bit down a smile as he turned the espresso shot into an iced long black. Of course Shane would check on him with the few words he managed to get out, those somehow worked past the tangle in his brain.
“Was good, not too busy” Ilya shrugged and crossed the kitchen to place the coffee in front of Shane, looked down at the grumbly shape of his boyfriend, he could feel his stewing radiating off him. Ilya placed a gentle hand on the back of Shane’s neck, rubbed the pads of his fingers up against Shane’s hairline. He dipped his head to kiss the top of Shane’s head.
“Thank you” Shane mumbles and its wobbly, and ha lingers, pets at Shane’s neck but Shane doesn’t lean back into him, doesn’t chat to him about last nights shift in slow hazy words, doesn’t catch Ilya’s hand to hold while he eats. Ilya hums, and pulls back.
Sometimes his Shane is quiet and sometimes his Shane needs space; especially on his last shift on a block of nights. Ilya is familiar with the way they untangle you, leave you spacey and backwards. Like you’re jet lagged or a toddler or a tiny bit drunk and hungover at the same time.
Ilya strolls out of the kitchen and goes to mute the tv, incase the sound is too much, and then goes to his bag for the three item he’d thrown in there for Shane this morning. He wordlessly makes his way back to the kitchen where Shane is rinsing his bowl, his backpack sitting unzipped on the bench, now containing his lunch bag.
Ilya places the small box of peppermint tea inside the bag (Shane said it helped with the bloating and nausea he sometimes got on nights and shane had texted Ilya with many sad faces that he was out of it last night) and well Ilya had stock for Shane at his place so it just made sense to bring some.
He lays the jumper he has in his arms over the top of the bag. It was Ilya’s, a sweatshirt he’d had for years, worn in thin and comfortable, soft in that way that only came with time. Shane’s favoured jumper to take of Ilya’s when they were at his place. Shane could decide if he wanted it for work- but at least the offer was there.
Ilya takes himself back to the couch, sits down and clicks the volume up to a soft murmur. Tells himself that he’s doing well not to hover, even though he kind of needs a smile and a kiss from Shane before he leaves to feel confident that is boy is alright. But then again, maybe he’s simply too tired for that- or overstimulated by Ilya’s presence. And yes Ilya’s missed his boy, but even if his time with Shane, being in Shane’s orbit consisted of only this, that was okay- they knew, time together between shifts like this, in overlap, they were just whatever they could find energy to be together.
Two weeks ago Ilya had come home with such a migraine post work that date night with Shane had been a cool shower and then laying in the dark of Ilya’s room in silence with the fan on, not touching because Ilya’s skin felt throbby.
A week before that, both post a 12hr day they had drunk wine directly from one shared bottle, and ate Thai food on the floor in front of the tv as they ranted about their equally fucking cursed days. It would change, what they needed but, what they needed would always be from each other, to exist together.
Ilya is halfway through a text to Sveta, when he suddenly blinks and oh, that’s a lap full of Shane. He’s warm and heavy and no longer shirtless, in his scrub top and Ilya’s jumper and he’s shoving his face into Ilya’s neck, tucking his arms in between their chests and his thigh pressing to either side of Ilya.
Ilya lets out a soft breathless laugh, knocked out of him the the weight of Shane, but then, then he feels the ripple of Shane’s shoulders, hears his big drawing breath in the way it’s coming faster than usual. Oh. Oh Shane.
“Hey, hey” Ilya is cooing, his hand is soothing over the back of Shane’s silky soft hair, other arm wrapping tightly around his waist, pressing Shane into his chest.
“Hey” ilya coos, low, draws out the vowel and tucks his face down against the side of Shane’s face. Ilya focuses his breathing, makes it slow and gives Shane a moment before he rushes in with questions, gives him space for words.
“I just-“ Shane’s voice wobbles where it’s tucked into the space between Ilya’s jaw and collarbones.
“I just want to go to bed with you” Shane gets out, voice small, and there’s a tiny sniffle and then he’s perfectly quiet. It makes Ilya’s stomach ache. Ilya can imagine Shane’s stubborn wet lash line, the way he’s refusing to let tears fall. His stubborn, exhausted sweetheart.
“It’s fine I’m ok.” Shane’s voice is flat
“I don’t know maybe I could be tired, but last night wasn’t so busy, nothing bad, just. I’d just really like to go to bed with you right now and fall asleep together” Shane explains and Ilya nods, nods, begins to gently sway them side to side.
Ilya wants to tell Shane to call in sick, to just put himself first please and let his body get some rest. It gets like this for Shane, handling the long hours- juggling it with workouts and seeing friends and dinners with his parents and helping his dad fix the deck and doing it all, till the exhaustion finds him suddenly and he just, gets heavy, slow- and frustrated with himself for feeling effects of the full life he has, the standards he holds himself too. Ilya has to remind him, at times the large stretches of sleep that Shane has surrendered for years. How it might be okay to be exhausted.
But Ilya knows Shane, his Shane, and knows that telling him to stop is futile, trying to persuade him that he could call in, come to bed with Ilya, the unit would be okay, wouldn’t fly with Shane, especially not so close to shift. Ilya knows how important work was to Shane, and that Shane is important to that place. That he cared, it mattered to him, showing up and being present, helping. Being reliable. Most of the time Ilya could just make himself a soft place for Shane to land, to come apart, to need, even if for a short while, to try and fill the exhausted spaces of him, hold him up.
“It’s been a little while huh?” Ilya agrees, (it had been four days, and even one felt too long to Ilya so he was helpless to do anything but agree) and starts his kisses, from the top of Shane’s ear all along his hairline, nose brushing in his hair with the pecks.
“Stupid hospital” Ilya adds, and it gets a small scoff laugh from Shane who nods. “Stupid hospital” he mumbles because it’s easier, to blame the building than all the other parts of it.
“I miss you” Shane adds, and Ilya nods, cups Shane’s face in his palms and eases him back from his neck, keeps him close and looks down at him, drops his neck to drop little kisses over Shane’s brow, the high of his cheeks. Ilya’s hand slides to the back of Shane’s neck and starts rhythmic squeezes.
“And I woke up. I don’t know angry? Or just-“ Shane waves a hand. “Frustrated. I kept waking up through the day and I was I thought it was- I kept rolling over or reaching out expecting to find you in bed but then I’d remember and” Shane shrugs and blinks his eyes half open, eyes heavy and brow frowny as he looks up at Ilya.
“Then it took me ages to wake up cause I was groggy and then I didn’t even say hi to you properly when you came here from work and pushed back going to the gym just to see me before shift and it’s just because I was feeling sorry for myse-“
“I miss you too” Ilya interrupts, leaning in to knock noses with Shane, lingering in his space. His pinkies tuck down past the neck of Shane’s shirt, fidget against the skin.
“Benjamin does not cuddle like you” Ilya teases and he sees a tiny smile flicker at the corner of Shane’s lips at the mention of Benjamin.
Benjamin was a giant stuffed bear Shane had won Ilya on their fifth date at an old refurbished arcade in the city. The thing was stupidly large but Shane’s heart had felt stupidly large at the time; he’d wanted to show off, to win the dumb biggest prize for the cute boy he was on a date with.
The game had aptly been called “Benjamin’s Hammer” with a scarily drawn off brand imitation of the marvel character of Thor that was distinctly off putting, not to mention the strangely out of place name. They could have at least tried to go with a name similar to Thor.
Ilya had whispered to Shane that Benjamin seemed more like a man you’d find in a cross fit gym than a super hero and Shane had agreed. The weird characters six fingers did confirm Shane’s suspicions it has been made by AI. His cape was too short and eyes weirdly formed, a smile that was sinister. Of course they had to play it; they decided.
The ‘game’ had consisted of using the large wooden hammer to swing and hit the target as hard as you could. The harder the hit, the higher the score, the bigger the prize.
Ilya’s smile had been blinding when Shane’s swing had pushed the red light just shy of the top of the large screen that displayed the force of the swing. It had somehow grown even more when Shane had selected the too big bear and passed it into Ilya’s arms with a shy smile. Ilya had thanked him with a kiss to the cheek, a sigh of “my hero, my Benjamin” Shane had replied “ew” at being compared to knock off Thor and dug his fingers into Ilya’s side but his flush had gone down his neck.
Ilya lugged the large brown bear around on his back the rest of the night, proudly declaring his name to be Benjamin of course. The large soft floppy dark coloured bear had taken residence in Ilya’s flat since then, usually sat in the armchair in his room or at the end of his bed (in his bed when he was missing the warm figure of Shane beside him most).
“I think you love him more than me” Shane grumbles and Ilya nods, unable to help but tease, and presses a feather light kiss to Shane’s nose, then his top lip. “Very much so” he whispers and wraps his whole hand over the back of Shane’s tense neck, massaged with his full hand working, firm presser and watches Shane’s eyes flutter.
Shane whines and huffs and oh his poor tired boy. Ilya kisses his top lip again, then his bottom lips pulls back just enough for Shane to tilt his chin up to chase his mouth and then kisses him properly, slow and soft, a hungry lick of his tongue that Shane returns, tightens his arms around Ilya’s shoulders. He tastes like coffee and the sweet residue of cereal. Ilya kisses Shane until he feels his neck and head slacken in Ilya’s grip, feels the weight of his head back into his palm.
Ilya hums against Shane’s mouth and pulls back, bites down his smile when Shane’s head lulls closer to him as if hypnotised.
“Shane” Ilya whispers and Shane blinks his eyes open, small frown working its way back between his brows.
“What” he asks, and Ilya kisses the crease of his brow.
“I do not love Benjamin more than you, he is just an affair, for when my lover is busy being be very important at his job” Ilya whispers and he feels a small laugh draw from Shane.
“Besides he does not wear glasses so” Ilya shrugs, sucks his teeth. “Is no contest” he concludes and Shane whines, that annoyed sound when Ilya carries on. Ilya loves it.
“Okay okay” Ilya concedes and then twists and lays back on the couch, shane curled on top of him.
His eyes flicker to Shane’s Apple Watch, 5:52pm
Shane nuzzles his face into Ilya’s throat and Ilya’s hand is steady massaging over Shane’s neck, pressing out along the lines of his shoulder with steady pressure of his fingers.
They don’t have enough time for Ilya to bring Shane back to himself the way he wants to, the way they both know works best, doesn’t have time to let his Shane get the full sleep he needs, doesn’t have the ability to give Shane what he wants, a night together just them, falling asleep at the same time. So he problem solves.
“Here is plan” Ilya says and he feels Shane hum, nod slightly Ilya distantly thinks of those videos of owners saying dogs favourite words in front of them, how they perk up and their ears twitch. Ilya values his safely so he doesn’t voice this thought.
“I will drive you to work, we will leave at 6:45 yes because you will not need extra time for parking so extra time for us. Then you will work and it will be okay, and you can keep my jumper so you are warm and is like I am not far. I will go to gym very nice and early and then come and pick you up, we will come home, have gross smoothie you like and eggs on toast that I like and then we will shower, and then I will fuck you to sleep yes?” Ilya keeps his voice low and calm, washing it over Shane like the ocean pushing in, the movements of his hands on Shane’s neck and back rhythmic, his breathing steady.
“We will sleep, together, in bed, us- and then when we wake up we can go for a walk or to sauna or to the couch to watch a movie or we stay in bed and I fuck you some more” Ilya shrugs listing Shane’s prefers post last night shift activity. “You will pick from these options- what you want and I will make happen” Ilya kisses the shell of Shane’s ear, slides his hand down to press and rub at his lower back.
“You do the next twelve hours and then I’ve got you for the next whole day okay? You just let me have you” Ilya mumbles the instruction, hand slides to Shane’s hip and holds, rubs his thumb.
“Yes?” Ilya prompts and Shane nods, nods, his hands are fisted into Ilya’s shirt, breathing steady and even.
“Yeah. Please” Shane replied and illya kisses kisses kisses the crown of his head.
“Okay” Ilya confirms and feels Shane snuggle down into him, loose like some of the strings pulling him have slackened.
“Okay” Shane echoes, the slightest lilt to his voice that makes it fall like Ilya says the word. It makes Ilya kiss his head, makes something warm like pride pulse in his chest.
“Good boy” Ilya whispers, a secret for just them and his hand slides up to Shane’s ear, rubs over the shape of it, his earlobe.
Shane shivers against him, yawns so wide it makes his jaw click.
Ilya checks the time again, eyes on Shane’s watch. 6:04pm
“I’ll get you up when we need to go okay?” Ilya mumbles, waits till he feels Shane nod. He wishes he could put Shane on his knees for the next half an hour or so, take his brain out of where it was rattling, but he knows there is no chance Shane would be in the right headspace to work after that. But this, this was good too. A moment of rest, a moment together.
“I’m right here, just rest now” Ilya whispers and pushes his hand up under Shane’s scrubs and his jumper, palm flat against warm skin, rubbing wide steady circles.
Ilya tilts his face down, nose to the top of Shane’s head and closes his eyes, not worried about falling asleep, not when he had the job of looking after his Shane, looking over him while he got to rest with Ilya. A moment of something warm and true and real to take into his shift with him, something Shane could keep tucked against his chest when it got to the seven hour of decision making, being in control, in charge, calculating and compassionate and alert and open and ready.
When it got too much. Like a worry stone Shane could rub his thumb over and over and over and over, smooth from use, this memory of being soft and warm and held. Safe.
Ilya’s chest tingled with the delight of helping Shane carrying the weight of it all- the everything- and he let the steady sound of Shane’s breathing clear his mind as he focused on the weight and warmth and smell of his boy, his favourite person in the world, right there safe against his chest.
thinking about eva stratt crafting a coffin for her friends. the very best coffin, full of every piece of pirated media the entire world has to offer. crafted for maximum comfort, this coffin, with every bit of authority available to her, which is all of it.
and then thinking about all the people who call her cold or uncaring or clinical about what she has to do to save earth. eva stratt, who had silly t-shirts and vodka and favorite meals stored in the Hail Mary and treated with the same level of importance as the finely tuned equipment and the centrifuge the entire planet relies on for salvation.
and then thinking about eva stratt nodding and saying, “yeah, I’m pretty awful. that’s why i’m in charge” with a neutral expression and even believing it. as if crafting the most beautiful coffin and homage to her soon-to-be dead friends won’t haunt her always.
thinking about eva stratt being the first person on the “eva stratt is a monster” train, welcoming ryland grace aboard and knowing she believed in him more than anyone else.
it’s fine, really it’s fine and normal and eva stratt makes beautiful coffins for the people and things she cares about.
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Nurse!Shane fussing over Security Guard!Ilya after he gets hurt when doing his job
Yes yes yes nurse Shane looks after his Ilya so fucking well. Even before they were together- before they realised, Shane had always been good at reading when something was off with Ilya.
Maybe it’s because he’s around it 24/7- the chaos, the noise, the tension, the worry, all the emotions and fear and love that loves so think under the skin in hospitals. Maybe it’s because he knows how it can burrow under your own skin, others- how things can escalate and click and switch back right under your hands. How all those feelings sometimes have nowhere to go but back to someone else, the human thing to need to attack something out of fear- something that can speak back to you rather than an illness. But Shane is good at seeing when the rifts of the hospital buckle under Ilya’s feet. Ilya always has a smile, for the kids, for the staff, a warm joke or a flirty comment for some of the older nurses who simply blush in his presence.
When things get to him, he goes quiet, still, sharp set face, his cheekbones look more pronounced from the lack of smile, he looks- cold. It’s the first time Shane has seen him like this- hollow almost, he didn’t even smile at Shane as he passed him in the corridor and it made Shane’s stomach twist, sharp and nervous and worried. The short head nod he’d offered Shane felt like it had come from an entirely different person. Shane had been taking a patient up to theater so it’s not like he could stop- could try and speak to him about it- he’s not sure what he’s even say, but it had sunk low in his gut like a stone. Ilya’s serious quiet face, the way it made him look like someone else.
It sits with Shane for hours and when he finally gets time for a break he finds himself leaving the ward, aimlessly walking with the excuse in his mind to get a coffee. And so maybe he walks to the cafe cart on the opposite side of the building and it’s not because it’s near the security offices- that’s just a co incidence. He doesn’t find Ilya. Doesn’t know why he was thinking he would- somehow just stumble into him. It was stupid anyway it wasn’t like- maybe Ilya just didn’t want to smile at him. But Shane can’t stop this prickle in his chest that something just isn’t right. Like when he looks at a patient and can tell, despite all other clinical signs, what they might say, that they are going to take a turn for the worse. Sixth sense.
Anyway- so Shane just worries quietly through the next few hours, when Jenn, one of the new nurses to the unit that Shane hasn’t quite gotten a read on yet- comes bouncing by him, smelling like the chemical cherry scent of her vape. Shane hears her chatting to one of the other nurses about how the “hot security guard was sulking on the roof and smoking actual cigarettes ew” (Shane bites his tongue hard to not explain to her how much more evil her little pink stick e cigarette is. He shouldn’t have to really if she paid attention in nursing school. Anyway.)
Shane is pretty sure that hot security guard is widely known as Ilya- could only be Ilya. And whatever fresh air sounds nice. He doesn’t make any more excuses to himself and tells his in charge he’s taking a short break and makes his way up to the roof. Sometimes during the summer he’ll come up there for a break when he can get away that long- but during the winter months it’s usually just the smokers who come out here.
The air is biting and fresh when Shane pushes the fire stairs door open into the evening air. He forgot to grab his jacket but the cool air is nice after ten hours in the ward, the recycled air and sting of hand sanitiser under his nose. Shane takes a long pull of fresh air and his shoulders drop a few centimetres being in the open, cool space. Then he smells the smoke. Shane turns his head and there here is, Ilya leant against the wall, exhaling smoke in the low light of the evening. His face is still drawn, blank, it still makes Shane’s stomach twist. Wrong wrong wrong.
Shane walks over and leans against the wall a few meters down from Ilya, scuffs his sneakers against the concrete under his feet. It’s silent and he listens to Ilya take another long drag, then exhale. He tries not to wrinkle his nose at the smell.
Shane seems Ilya move out the side of his eye line and turns, sees Ilya’s hand has extended his cigarette towards Shane. “You smoke now?” He asks and Shane shakes his head.
“Ah” Ilya says and ashes the cigarette towards his own feet before he brings it back to his mouth.
“Needed fresh air” Shane says with a shrug and Ilya just nods. He’s so quiet. Shane feels unmoored.
“Me too” Ilya says after a moment and Shane watches Ilya turn his head to exhale the smoke through his nostrils away from Shane.
“Looks like it” Shane muttered before he can think it through and it does draw a small scoffed laugh from Ilya.
“Ah.” He says, and then he drops the cigarette and stubs it out with his shoe.
“You ok?” Shane asks, and bites the inside of his cheek- he’s never been subtle, and he can feel awkward navigating around tension.
Shane chanced another look at Ilya who shrugs, is not biting at his thumb nail. “Yes” he says and it’s quiet again. It makes Shane’s palms itch. He feels useless. He hates it.
“Okay” Shane says softly and he pushes off the wall, regretting his decision to come up here. He doesn’t even know Ilya that well, he’s a work acquaintance at best. Maybe he’s pushing one of those lines other people seem to know, but not him.
“Is um” Ilya’s voice comes rushing out and Shane pauses.
“Angry father- code was just long. I’m tired” he says and Shane nods, pushes the pad of his thumb over the inside of his middle finger.
“You must be. It’s a lot. Here” Shane says and then doesn’t have any other words because that’s the truth of it really. Ilya just nods, nods. Shane watches him pull out another cigarette and tuck it between his lips but he doesn’t light it, just fiddles with the lighter between his fingers.
It’s quiet and the air is nice and when just stays, closes his eyes and listens to the click of Ilya’s lighter. Shane’s device buzzes and he sighs, can see one his patients has pressed their call lights.
“I gotta” Shane says, points to his call device and turns to face Ilya properly then, and sees the drawn look of his face, the shine in his eyeline. Shane feels this horrible ache in his stomach, he wants to- he wants to hug Ilya, or brush the curls up out of where they have grown long and spilled into his eyes. He looks young and alone and Shane wonders not the first time what Ilya goes home to, who he goes home to.
If someone sits and has dinner with him and asks him about his day, holds his hand when he talks about the bad parts. Wonders if someone knows how bad the part parts of his job are. Shane wonders if he goes home to an empty quiet apartment like himself, wonders if he turns the tv to sleep on so it’s not silent like Shane does, so he doesn’t have to keep thinking. Shane grits his jaw and swallows that feeling away.
“Of course” Ilya nods, his mouth twitches in an almost smile. “Thank you for fresh air” he mutters and Shane watches the way the cigarette in his mouth jumps with the movement of his lips.
Shane smiles and nods, turns around and listens to the sound of Ilya finally lighting his cigarette. Shane wonders how many he’s had and he shoves that thought all down with the worry with the rest of it, with the pull in the low of his stomach to turn around and smooth a hand over Ilya’s shoulder, the back of his curls, for try fix him, make him better. It’s what Shane’s good at.
When they are together for real, they talk about it, all of it- Shane understands who Ilya’s father was, how he lost his mother, the depression that seeps in. All the detestations that made up his lovely Ilya. All the things he never would have guessed lived under the surface of him. All the ache. Ilya brings it up, that night on the roof, when Shane tells Ilya he wants to know how he be there for him. Tells Shane he’s always know how to be there- that him coming up and just being with him then, listening, not letting him be alone or forcing him to speak. Shane already knew then.
Caring is something that comes naturally to Shane, had lead him into his work, something important, demanding, challenging, but guided by looking after, keeping safe. Shane had faced his one challenges with comfort in the world, finding ways to be, and if he could afford others some comfort, relief, care- that mattered to him, help them navigate the ‘big scary’ of illness and injury.
Ilya- it’s different, he has aches that are invisible, deep. But Shane knows he is devotional to making him feel safe, supported. Understood. Comfortable. In the big and small. Make him a part of his family, make him feel safe to speak his mind, to use ‘lazy English’ as he calls it around Shane. To be silly, to be vulnerable.
But Shane has gotten so good at loving his Ilya. Especially on his bad days.
Ilya comes home after a particularly bad day- a violent aggressive father in the ED, a trigger for Ilya already and the man had gotten physical, gone to push a nurse and Ilya had gotten in the way. He knows he can’t lay hands on anyone and he doesn’t, but he’ll take the violence so others don’t have to. It hasn’t mounted to much- the police had arrived shortly after. Ilya had been left with very little damage to him- some scratches across his shoulder and chest, a small bruise on his arm.
Ilya had called him on his break, short stilted words to explain, rough sounding and Shane had pressed his head to the dining table as Ilya spoke, explained, in short sentences how he was loud and mean and cruel to the staff how he yelled and the kid had heard and seen it all, had only been ‘so little Shane’.
When Ilya gets home, Shane already has the bath almost full, a bottle of vodka out of the freezer and on the bench in the kitchen by a small glass. Ilya walks in and Shane is right there, in a pair of sweat shorts and his glasses, his book abandoned on the couch. “Hi baby” Shane says softly, and he’s opening his arms and a split second later Ilya is fitting himself into them, face smushed into Shane’s neck. He stinks like cigarettes and sweat and Shane smooths his hand over the back of Ilya’s head, over his thick curls.
“Hi” Ilya voice is small and Shane scratches gently at the base of Shane’s neck with his blunt nails.
“Я скучала по тебе, мой маленький червячок” Ilya whispers and Shane smiles, he knows those words, missed you and little worm. He was always worm to Ilya when he had his glasses on, born of Ilya’s delight at learning the English phrase bookworm.
“Okay?” Shane asks, still scratching at the base of his neck in slow circles, feeling the weight of Ilya sink down onto him, leaning into Shane with his full warm weight.
Ilya just shrugs and Shane feels wetness on his neck, a small sniffle.
“Better with you” he mumbles and Shane wraps his arms around his shoulders, squeezes him hard to his body, shivers when Ilya’s arms wrap tight around his lower back, squeezing until his feet lift off the ground.
“Alright baby, come on” Shane says after a few moments, brushes at Ilya’s cheeks when he pulls back, clean his face with his knuckles.
Ilya pouts his lips a little and Shane smiles, leans in to kiss Ilya softly, sweet pecks of their sliding lips, trails them around Ilya’s mouth and chin and nose.
“Let’s wash up yeah?” Shane says and it’s easy then, Ilya follows Shane like a heavy shadow, wrapped around him as he gets Ilya a glass of vodka, then guides them up the stairs, into the bathroom.
Shane gets ilya out his uniform, piece by piece and tucking them away into the washing basket. The lights in the bathroom are low, dimmer all the way down, and Ilya watches him with heavy eyes. Shane lets him. Once he’s naked Shane kisses across the marks on his chest, noses against them.
They climb into the bath, Ilya first with his glass in hand and Shane slots himself in behind him, pulls Ilya back into his chest.
“There we go” Shane breathes, guides Ilya’s head into his neck, and feels Ilya settle there with a big heavy sighs Shane gets his nails against Ilya’s scalp, begins long slick scratches that he knows Ilya loves. Scratches along his hairline and around his ears, rubs at his earlobes. Shane waits till he’s drained the glass of vodka, placed it on the ground beside the tub before he asks.
“Want to talk about it?” Shane asks and Ilya shakes his head. “No” he says then softly and Shane nods. Sometimes you have to let the bad things live there- in the hospital, not bring them home with you. It’s something he’ll always respect, both of them do, when other says it’s not something they want to talk about.
Instead, shane washes Ilya’s hair, slowly and with the fancy hair mask that smells rich and a little sweet and Shane loves smelling on Ilya’s curls days later. They don’t talk, just Shane’s soft instructions to tilt his head, lean back. Ilya’s eyes are droopy heavy by the time his hair is clean, a big heavy weight on Shane. Shane holds his head in one hand and kisses over his forehead, his brow, his eyelids, across the highs of his cheekbones.
“What do you want for dinner honey?” Shane asks between pecks, hand between Ilya’s pecks, rubbing gentle circles.
“Ooo take away?” Ilya asks, voice heavy and half asleep. “On a Tuesday? Naughty Shane” he jokes but his voice is syrupy and slow, missing his usual teasing bite.
“Mmhm” Shane smiles and sucks little kisses along Ilya’s cheek, down to his mouth and nuzzles their lips together.
“Even McDonald’s if you want” he muttered into their kiss and feels Ilya smile against his lips.
“Woooow” Ilya whispers back and Shane feels a small smile there, between their kisses.
It makes his heart go warm. There he is.
They kiss lazy and slow in the bathtub until the water is cold. Ilya sulks at them having to get up, whining and Shane collects his big sad puppy in a towel, around his waist bundles him into his chest and kisses his nose, under his eye, the corner of his mouth.
“Love you ilya” he whispered, Ilya’s curls dripping water drops down their faces, between their mouths. Ilya nods.
“So much” Shane breathes, knocks their noses together in a nuzzle.
“And I’ve got you” Shane mutters, tucks the words into Ilya’s cheek, and feels Ilya’s arms squeeze him closer, another little nod.
“Okay. Okay” Ilya says and pulls back to press their foreheads together.
“Pizza?” He asks and Shane smiles because he knows Ilya would prefer McDonald’s but he knows Shane will eat pizza with him, where as he’ll eat his meal prep if he gets McDonald’s.
“Pizza” Shane confirms.
They make a nest of the couch, blankets and pillows and Love After Lockup on tv- nothing like trashy reality tv to clear the mind. They kiss and eat pizza and Ilya kisses him with pizza greasy lips and tucks fingers down Shane’s shorts with a cheeky little smile and Shane sees his Ilya coming back, in slow pieces, finding himself here again where he’s safe to be. Safe to let the feelings surface when they do and wash under when they do. To just be with Shane. However that looks.
Shane blows him on the couch, slow and wet, fingers tangled up in Ilya’s, keeps him in his mouth after until he goes soft and shivery, tugging at Shane to come back up to kiss him.
Ilya falls asleep on top of Shane that night, head over his heart, Shane’s arm curled over Ilya’s shoulders, the other cradling his head. Shane forces himself to stay awake until Ilya is soundly asleep. He rubs his fingers over the marks on Ilya’s skin and falls asleep thinking about how he’ll do anything to keep the aching parts of Ilya safe, in any way he can- forever if he’ll let him.
How is it that you can a music library of like 1,200+ absolute bangers but as soon as you put it on shuffle in a group setting it's like. anime opening you added in 2010. homestuck parody song. musical artist who was cancelled last year for kidnapping and eating children in his basement. Hamilton
I can't believe some people are actually reblogging this like "Tch. Omg, so embarrassing OP, I can't believe you would ever admit to liking Hamilton 😏 " like ok, first of all congratulations for hatching as a fully formed adult in 2022 from the pure white egg of a virgin swan i guess. Raised in a cave on a diet consisting solely of nuts and berries and leftist twitter clapbacks. "ooooooh, I've never had a complicated relationship with a piece of art that was phenomenally well-received at the time but aged like milk as later reflection revealed the fundamental flaws in its premise that were in fact present from its inception but which I didn't notice because I was 17 and hadn't heard of neoliberalism yet" Should we throw a party? Should we invite Anthony Fantano? Anyway second of all. you draw the line at Lin Manuel Miranda but you're fine with basement guy?
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Post outing, during Shane’s first season with Ottawa, he meets up with Rose. The Centaurs have a game in New York and Rose has a Colbert appearance. The press immediately speculates why Ilya didn’t come with them. After all, he and Shane are married now. The more trashy outlets speculate about Shane and Rose rekindling their romance while the more serious ones (lol) write about tension between Rose and Ilya and Ilya being jealous and A Close Friend bemoans how poor Shane is in the middle of his husband and his best friend not getting along.
Fast forward a couple of months, the Centaurs are playing LA. Shane is sitting out the road trip due to a minor injury. Ilya meets up with Rose at a small restaurant to avoid the press, but they get caught by paparazzi. And they get absolutely swarmed. Usually, Rose can handle a few paps going after her, but this time there are so many, they block the way from the restaurant’s door to where her car is parked. Rose was just caught leaving a party hand in hand with another actor a week ago and the paps are after her like crazy and because she and Ilya were meeting on the dl she didn’t bring security. Turns out, she didn’t need to. The paparazzi are in their faces, yelling at Rose about her possible relationship with her actor or whether she’s hooking up with her ex-boyfriend’s husband now, shoving them around and flashing their cameras. Unfortunately for the paparazzi, none of them have a lot of experience with professional hockey players. Hockey players who can fight and are good in a scrum. So Ilya drags up his I’m gonna drop my gloves and punch out your teeth persona and yells at them loud enough that at least two of the paps drop their cameras. Even these hardened vultures don’t know what to do in the face of Russian hockey player fury. Ilya doesn’t punch any of them, but he doesn’t have to. Just wraps an arm around Rose and clears a path for her with the other, his broad shoulders and the murderous expression on his face equally well suited to get them back to Rose’s car. The clip goes viral, especially because it catches Rose’s absolutely vindicated expression when Ilya basically glares the last photographer out of his way, and says, just audible for the camera, “next time we go out, we bring hockey sticks and just sweep them out of the way like ugly overgrown pucks.”
Later that night, Rose posts a clip of her and Ilya on the ice, shooting pucks with the caption 💪 practice.
Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander most accurate bitch (extrovert) x bitch (introvert) of all time and it's so funny to me how they're perceived as asshole x sweetheart by the league and some of the fandom when Ilya is basically just a doberman (scary face, insanely loyal, asshole to people he doesn't care about but deeply loving) whereas if Shane was featured on a nature documentary they'd talk about him like they'd talk about a fucking stonefish
so what you got from sinners was... remmick as a blorbo. not "music as a coping and bonding method in the presence of overwhelming grief". not "lateral family bonds as a form of black community and survival". not "early acceptance of death in black youth". not "black women as the focal point of community". not "christianity as a tool of assimilation". nothing but "wow remmick is so ✨babygirl✨". whats crazy is that yall lowkey played out the violence of film (white exploitation and decimation of black culture and community) like. perfectly. you parody yourselves.
i finally saw the movie right after having to read some uwu racist say that sinners was "het slop". het slop. wow. if i started killing would you blame me if i never stopped.
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I’m just craving low key kink activity lately. Hanging out in lingerie and a collar. Doing shibari just to chill on the couch. Getting lazily teased and played with and petted while watching a movie. Casual hair pulling and mild domination. Just put me on my knees and let me lean against you for a little while.
baratheonpilled
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