Clarence Clemons and Bruce Springsteen by Richard E. Aaron
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if i look back, i am lost

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@improcrastinating
Clarence Clemons and Bruce Springsteen by Richard E. Aaron

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hollanov is masc4masc until ilya starts experimenting and feeling more free because he's safe to do so and then (on occasion) it's a cunty diva, eyeliner so sharp it could kill a man, boots made to stomp on bigots, bright red claws nails, and some autistic guy in track pants and a tee shirt holding the diva's coat.
(aka shane hollander and his bi wife)
i had a dream that when you looked up "gougar" this was the meme you got instead of the actual one
gougar attack
i hate men so much i want to kill them i hate when im nice to them by default i hate when i forget my fucking rage and apologize to one. i hate that they get away with anything i hate being scared.
The thing that gets me is Shane's inexperienced ass thinking that his arrangement with Ilya is the way all casual relationships work. What do you mean you don't flirt, kiss and yearn for literal years???
It's the only way he knows how.
Cue Ilya losing his mind.

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it's kind of like we live in medieval times cause everything is mid and evil
Was taking screenshots of a foal video for study refs and this doesn’t help. What are you.
listening to an album you used to love but overplayed for yourself after a really long time after the overplayedness has worn off and it sounds like it's supposed to again is the closest to being in heaven you can get during your mortal life i think
tw lying
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The first time Shane calls Ilya baby, they are half asleep, exhausted limbs heavy they finally have a night together, two actually, a tiny bit of time together to fall asleep in the same bed, wake up together. Shane had missed that the most from the cottage, desperately, the intimacy of a shared bed, of waking up with Ilya on his chest, sprawled out and head heavy, sweat at his hairline. He missed the feeling of Ilya reaching for him first thing in the morning, waking up to his pouted dry lips and sleep heavy voice.
Anyway it’s the middle of the night, or early morning at this point almost, and Shane is fucking exhausted, sore, he’d been checked hard, more than once in his last game and the the long drive to Ilya right after had left his muscles stiff. He is warm, but doesn’t have the full weight of Ilya, just the tangle of his legs, and Shane wants him, but he’s so half or like almost fully asleep he can’t even make himself roll over closer to Ilya yet. Then Ilya moves, but it’s away from Shane, he’s climbing off the bed and Shane frowns, pouts into his pillow as he listens to Ilya plod sleepy heavy footsteps into the bathroom, feet scuffling. He listens to Ilya walking away from him and he misses him sorely, it’s a pathetic lonely thing, a achey pit under his ribs that feels like notimenotimenotime.
He wants him back, here, now, buried under the hours they have together. Ilya isn’t leaving, (he or Shane is always leaving) but not right now. He wakes a little more, just enough to shuffle onto his side sluggishly, into the head Ilya left behind. He listens to Ilya pee, flush, wash his hands and shuffle shuffle back to Shane, back to their bed. Shane wants him so intensely in that moment, the weight of him crawling back into their bed that his whole body thrums with it, aches, deeply. It fuses with a heady joy of knowing Ilya is crawling back into bed with him. His boyfriend, their bed, them. Shaneandilya how it’s been since the first time, a universe between them, the whole word between their mouths, hands, bodies.
Ilyas steps are slow heavy and Shane wants him here now he wants the heat, weight, shoulders of Ilya right against him. He forces, half lidded, his tired eyes to open just so, watches the shape of Ilya as he gets to the edge of the bed.
Shane reaches his hand out, grabby fingers, licks his lips and half whines, simpers, too tired to ask what he wants to explain that he has this cloying aching insane need for Ilya in that moment- to feel him, to know he knows him, to reach for his boy in the middle of the night and have his hand touch Ilyas skin not his sheets, Ilya two hours away. He wants to want him and have him.
Ilya is in the bed with a press of the mattress, all limbs and warm and his Ilya there, humming back to Shane, a nonsense sound and flops himself half on Shane, wriggling against him to knock their limbs into fitting together somehow, too sleepy to make proper work of it.
But Shane, Shane wants to cuddle properly he wants to be pressed together, wants to feel the shifting of Ilyas breathing, wants to be held.
“Come here baby” Shane breaths, the words half formed an kinda mushed together as he properly pulls Ilyas body over him, hand in his hair to fit his face to the curve of his neck, pressed close and warm.
Ilya lets out a soft keening noise and Ilyas arms, strong and firm and warm squeeze around him, collects him up into his chest tighter, they fall asleep in the next few breaths.
(The second time Shane calls him baby, he’s lucky enough to see the blush that pinks across the high of Ilyas face)
so ironic of ilya to buy all those fast cars when all he secretly wants is to be the annoying passenger princess in his husbands lame car while said husband drives at a boring law abiding speed and complaines about potholes
ok body signal received i will be stopping the substances 👍
didn’t heed this and fell to hubris and have learned my lesson. I will listen
Truly feel like Ilya would want to soft launch asap and would be trying to low key drop subtle little hints (blowing kisses at the camera when asked if he had a message for his rival, deliberately getting bits of Shane in photos he posts, wearing the plaid shirt or even Metros merch he stole) and everything would be written off by fans and press as ragebaiting. He is trying to live his best and truest loverboy life but the ragebaiter reputation haunts him
Shane does not want anyone to suspect and is accidentally way more sus and obvious because of it. We see it in his hotel room with Hayden. My cringefail doesn't lie to his parents boy is way more likely to give the game away to his horror, while Ilya can try to declare his love on tv and get laughed off
The closest they came to "casually hooking up" in the entirety of their decade long situationship was Vegas and they both ended up in tears by the end of that night.

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The miscommunication in Heated Rivalry is because they're living in different romance types to begin with:
Shane: In some sort of Austen-esque existence where hjs ill-advised flirtation with a notorious rake goes too far. Scandalised by the intimate use of first names he flees, concerned what society and his goodly parents will think, his reputation at stake. He tries to find a proper marriage prospect but alas his heart is lost to the rake! But he finally follows his heart and invites Ilya into his home too (and accepts first name usage!)
Ilya: Smoldering in mirrors and out of windows and getting emotionally wuthered screaming Shane's name on a moor. My man is byronically going through it gothic style
Scott Hunter is trying to live his best modern rom com life and is side-eyeing the fuck out of these two. No idea what's going on there and franly doesn't want to