The convergence 

i love shane hollander. i love that he exists. i love everything about him. i love that he’s asian and biracial. i love that he’s the best at hockey. i love that he’s tall and jacked and masc and in a very hypermasculine career and is also a slutty little sub bottom. i love that he’s earnest and sincere and he sucks at sexting. i love that he’s an overexplainer. i love that he keeps hiring people to sort out aspects of his life that he is not good at. i love his fuck ass haircut. i love his architecture obsession. i love that he has his own well and you can see it if you like. i love his massive wet eyes. i love whatever the fuck kind of psychosexual shit he has going on in his own beautiful mind. i love that he’s complex and interesting and flawed. i love that he’s doing all that while also dealing with being autistic and having an eating disorder and a bunch of sensory issues and everything that comes with being a professional athlete and a celebrity and a guy whose mom is his manager. i love him so much that it doesn’t matter whether he was only ever supposed to be a stand in or a cheap knock off. he contains multitudes. i have killed for him and i will die for him. thank you and goodnight

alternate narrative: it’s actually fine if someone found me a little weird or even off-putting. i am a little weird and it’s no big deal