Writer and Fangirl

Troy watched as Shane massaged Ilya's shoulders, his lips moving in a pep talk only the Russian man could hear.

It was the first game against the Voyaguers, the team that had cast out and written off a man so easily to the side for loving someone. The man that had given them two Stanley Cups and restored them to their former glory.

"Okay, listen the fuck up," Ilya growled, "we show no mercy on the ice today. We show Montreal what they gave up. They leave this arena in pain." Troy noticed as his eyes softened for only a moment as they met Shane's. "Let's show Montreal that this man means the world to us."

And just like that, the tension was gone, replaced with an air of electricity, the determination to show Montreal just how much they had lost and would stand to lose this season.

@hollanovbingo 3rd Bingo square filled!

"I hope Amanda likes them," he said nervously as they navigated the halls. "I just...I want her to know how much this means to us and what she means to us."

"Shane," Ilya said soothingly, "Amanda chose us as the adoptive parents for a reason. She knows we will give her little one the best life possible." They opened the door to see the exhausted teenager in the hospital bed, but she smiled brightly at them.

"It's a girl," she told them as Shane handed her the bouquet and Ilya kissed her on the cheek. The men turned their attention to the tightly wrapped newborn in the clear cot, sleeping peacefully.

Ilya gasped, tears filling his eyes as he lifted the baby up gently. "Moya lubyov," he whispered, "look at her. She's perfect."

@hollanovbingo @hollanovmicrofic

For 3. Moya Lubyov and my second bingo square

He growled, forcing his emotions in check. He wouldn't allow Shane fucking Hollander anything more than indifference. Feelings were dangerous, especially with the game they were playing. The dial raced farther around, the numbers finally reaching triple digits.

100...105...110...

"Fuck," he swore, weaving through cars as they began to become more and more common in his path. He would need to turn around soon. He would have to face the man that caused these...feelings. Love? Anger? Resentment?

Ilya didn't know anymore because it seemed like they all felt the same in this addiction to a Canadian hockey player and his stupidly beautiful freckles.

@hollanovbingo

*points to a bookstore*: that's good omens

*points to a Queen CD*: that's good omens

*points to a motorcycle*: that's good omens