Morena

“i don’t know, probably that i can have ilya’s photos on my phone now :).”

To Ilya, Shane is the funniest, sexiest, bitchiest and downright FREAKIEST person he knows. He tells everyone he knows this, yet for some reason no one seems to believe him. His husband is such an asshole, and Ilya loves him for it.

Shane stares at him, uncomprehendingly, for a second before slowly replying, "...I didn't."

Holmberg gives him a deeply skeptical look. "I've seen the way you react when people flirt with Roz in front of you," he says, "there's no way you guys have an open relationship."

"No," Shane clarifies immediately. He would rather set himself on fire than have to live with sharing his husband with another person. "No, we're exclusive," he confirms, "but I never asked him to stop sleeping with other people. He just kind of... stopped. I didn't even find out until a few months after it happened so, I don't know, maybe just wait it out?"

Shane Enabler Hollander: ok so Ilyusha this player has had zero assists in the entire season, he got drafted last, and finally - and this is crucial - he once scored a goal in his own team's net

Harry Anderson as Richie Tozier and Dennis Christopher as Eddie Kaspbrak in It (1990)

Extra:

Picturing Dennis with a patient's test results who didn't want to wait for the elevator and decides to take stairs down. Two at a time. Puppies like him are clumsy at the best of times, and in his haste he inevitably trips over his own feet and takes a tumble, hearing his ankle make a sickening crack and landing hard.

If the ruckus his fall made didn't get someone's attention, the involuntary yelp he let out certainly did.

He's dazed and numb for 5 seconds before the excruciating pain in has him whimpering, then nearly wailing. He lays on his back, hot tears stinging his eyes as the face of Park the Shark appears above.

Park's gaze is just as intense, but this time with concern, crouching down, one hand on Dennis's cheek and the other on his neck the keep him still.

"Easy sweet boy, it's ok, I got you. Just be still for me now, ok? Shhhh...I know it hurts, I'm gonna fix that pup."

contrary to popular belief, brendon had empathy. a lot of it actually.

he didn’t relish people’s pain, it was one of the reasons he picked ortho. he had one consultation, operated on an anesthetized patient, then did a follow up while they were still on pain management mostly, and by the time he was done with them, their chronic issue was, nine times out of ten, mostly better.

he didn’t like coming down to the ER when patients were writhing around unmedicated, he didn’t like his family medicine rotation, where he had to pat people on the back, and refer them out to a specialist who wouldn’t see them for six months, he didn’t like prolonging suffering.

yeah, he could acknowledge his intensity. but really it was a focus, a headspace necessary for his nationally recognized outcomes. when he was called down for a consultation, he was the shark.

brendon was taking the stairs down to the first floor to get lunch from one of the food trucks. it was important to use joints to keep them lubricated. elevators were where joints went to die.

somewhere between the second and third floor, there was a tumble and a yelp. shit. he picked up his pace on his descent and found the emergency medicine intern he liked to tease.

dennis was on his back, eyes filling up with tears, a whimper in the back of his throat as he heard footsteps rushing to him. the uncharacteristically concerned face of brendon park came into his blurred vision.

“you fall, whitaker?”

dennis let out a whiny, “uh huh.” he sat up and grabbed at his ankle before wincing.

park’s brows furrowed and he kneeled down to get a look. he shoved up whitaker’s scrub pants and palpated the already swollen ankle while dennis moaned in pain. “it seems like just a really bad sprain.” dennis nodded in response. “do you think you can stand?”

dennis nodded again. brendon helped him up, but as soon as dennis tried to walk, he nearly crumpled.

park swooped him up, one arm under his knees, the other holding his back. dennis’s arms grabbed onto his strong shoulders.

“wait! i can walk. it’s fine! just hurts a little.” dennis insisted.

"easy sweet boy, it's ok. i got you,” park half whispered to dennis as he brought them both down the flight of stairs. “i’m gonna fix this, pup."

dennis assumed the pain was making him delirious, because in what world is the god damn shark saying this to him?

okay I did peds reader bc they’re almost the same??? lol brendon park x peds wife!reader

SHALLOW WATERS

"what've we got?" robby asked as the paramedics wheeled in.

"11 year old male, bp 119/73, HR 111, RR 20. apparently he took a fall; reporting pain to the left ankle." the EMT leaned in closer. talking in his ear. "neighbors called it in."

the attendings eyebrows drew in. “parents?" the medic tipped his head toward the kid discreetly. "he said his parents were at work— didn't say where. but he was adamant about coming here.”

robby glanced at the boy then back to the EMT. almost as if needing clarification. “we were closer to Presby.”

it wasn’t new to have patients rerouted. but it wasn’t something they’d ask for. especially by someone this kid's age. if his condition was worse, they would’ve taken him to Presby. no hesitation. 

Unless.

You consider that the Metros know that Shane absolutely does know how to fight. They've all done checking clinics with Shane. They've all wrestled and roughhoused with Shane. He's strong and he's fast and he wants to win.

The Metros understand that Shane doesn't fight, not because he can't, but because he's a little too good at it. And Shane generally doesn't even like violence. He likes to win by playing the game, not hurting the other team.

So I like to imagine Ilya and Shane doing this whenever something moderately exciting happens.

Ilya finally gets a recipe right that he's been working on for a week? Shane's tasting it and slamming Ilya against the pantry.

They beat a difficult level in their video game? That's a cup-winning level celebration that results in the couch nearly getting broken.

Shane passes his level 1 Russian language test? Ilya's jumping on him and knocking them both to the floor in celebration.

Anya tosses her ball up and it accidently lands in the decorative bowl on the coffee table? That's a goal and they're (gently) throwing themselves on the floor to celebrate with a very confused but very excited Anya.

So when they’re lying in bed one day after a long evening practice, scrolling on their phones, Shane turns towards Ilya and asks, “what’s a ‘slavic stare’?”

“What?”

Shane turned his phone screen towards his husband. It’s a list of ‘Top 10 Athletes with Best Slavic Stare’.

“I am only number four?” Ilya frowned.

“What is it?” Shane pressed.

“Is this,” Ilya tossed his phone aside and rolled over on top of his husband. He had himself propped up on his hands, strong arms bracketing Shane’s head.

Shane looked confused at first. Ilya closed his eyes and set his features. When he opened his eyes, they were gazing up at Shane, chin tilted down. His jaw was set tight with a hard line at his brow. All playfulness had fled his features.

It was the same expression Shane had seen during important games. Games where Ilya wasn’t just trying to win, he was trying to destroy the other team.

“Ilya?” Shane breathed.

But Ilya just stared. It was intense, focused, like his world narrowed down to a single task.

It felt like… how Shane imagined a rabbit would feel caught in the eyes of a wolf.

“Ilya, stop it,” Shane wiggled, hands on Ilya’s chest to push him off. The fact he used about 10% of his strength to do this meant nothing.

Ilya grabbed both of his hands in one of his and pinned them above his head.

He said something in Russian that Shane only caught fragments of. His voice was deeper like it got when he spoke his native language. Shane got “you” “wanted” “good boy” and “me” but it was enough for him to vaguely catch onto the meaning.

“Ilya, I’m…,” Shane whined and unsuccessfully tried to yank his hands back. “I’m tired. I just wanted an…explanation.”

“But you are hands-on learner,” Ilya said in English but with a thick accent, not dropping the stare.

Shane squeezed his eyes close as Ilya dipped to capture his prey.