'Having a Coke with You' by Frank O' Hara
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@natythespidey
'Having a Coke with You' by Frank O' Hara

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one day, after they're married and ottawa is having a great season and they've gotten another dog (or a cat) and the noise surrounding their relationship has gone down and everything feels perfect and they're finally living the life they never thought they'd get to live, ilya is going to have a depressive episode worse than he's ever had, so bad that shane is terrified to leave him alone even for five minutes. and ilya will wonder if he can have everything he ever wanted and still feel like this, then what is the point? what even is the point at all.
@konecnysducks exactly
okay let's make another cake 🎂🎂
butter
sugar
eggs
flour
milk
baking powder
vanilla extract
please, dear audience, fill this out. for science
free the nipple has to make a resurgence for a number of reasons but bro look at our upcoming eternity of wet bulb temps youre smoking straight up cock if you think im keeping a shirt on when it hits 105° in new england
everyone tits out with a parasol is such a beautiful world to imagine that the fact it doesnt currently exist fills me with equal parts fire and misery
Are we really just going to bow down and let them (big oil etc) do this to us and try to make it “fun”? Can we not still try to fight it
it is going to get hotter

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you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up
You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid
as a feminist i support recreational abortion
i have mixed feelings about competitive
*maddest ive ever been, eye twitching* thats baseless. its something else actually.
for the first three months that Ilya has snapchat he genuinely believes that the photo disappears forever for everyone until the next time he sees svetlana and she shows him the screenshot she took of something he posted and he has a flashback of everything he’s posted and then - and this is crucial - does not change his snap habits at all
snaps ilya posted to his story:
photo of him and marly in g-strings
multiple speedometer pictures, all while driving and all over the speed limit
club selfies with svetlana and like every fifth one you can see that they definitely just did key bumps
video of him downing a big mac in like 35 seconds while the raiders call him disgusting in the background
a million sweaty gym selfies
video of burning rozanov jerseys outside centre bell with the caption “thank you montreal for selling out my jersey 💯”
a video taken by cliff of ilya taking a fat rip off of a truly bulky vape rig, trying to say “cotton” before blowing it out and instead choking and coughing so hard he throws up
200+ selfies of him with the stanley cup in various states of drunkenness and undress
dick pic accidentally posted to his story. it is the only story of his he’s deleted. followed by a black screen that say “whoops 😜 no peaking 😈”
video of him and svetlana doing ossetra caviar bumps
selfie with his tongue out with the caption “don’t need a filter to have a long tongue 😏🐶👅” notibly followed by a video making all the raiders use the dog filter
happy disability pride month to mean cripples, nasty addicts, people with down syndrome who arent nice and talk constant shit, wheelchair users that WILL run you over, autists that dont care and arent about to pretend to, people who lie to their psychiatrists, people that sit on the floor in public places with no benches, amputees that lie profusely about "what happened", ; to the "noncompliant", the "drug seeking", the "mean", the "difficult" and the "undeserving", and so on and so forth, i love us all and we deserve the world actually mwah mwah
to people that hide contraband in their assistive devices. to people that do party tricks they arent supposed to and people who will spit on you if you ask them to do party tricks. to people that weaponise the infantalisation of disabled people for their own purposes (theft et. al.). to the people who "misuse" their medication and people who dont take it at all. to my mother, who takes out her hearing aids when she doesnt want to hear shit anymore but will still pretend to be listening so you dont catch on. to people who sleep all the time and to people with "abnormal" circadian rhythms who are unwilling to alter their sleep/wake cycle to best appeal to societal (and moral) expectations. to people that complain loudly about inaccessibility and refuse to try and "make it work". to people that charge money for invasive questions and people that pretend not to understand the question at all.

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The night before Shane might win his third Stanley cup, Ilya sends him the clip of his Stanley cup win.
Confused, Shane immediately calls him.
"Is this some new and unique way to psych me out before the final, Rozanov? I didn't know you had money on Detroit."
"No, I am sending for a good reason," Ilya laughs. "I know it sucks for us that when you win all your team will be kissing their girlfriends and Pike will be making out all gross with Jackie, and we will not be able to. So, I wanted to show you exactly where I first kissed the cup. It was on the top, right over where it says Ottawa 1905, left of where it says 'Challenge Cup'. I remember because I did this on purpose. We weren't anything then, but I was thinking of you. I couldn't help thinking of you. So if you kiss the same place, it will be a little like we are sharing a kiss. And only we will know about it."
And Shane feels the air clean knocked out of his lungs and the back of his throat get tight, as he barely gets out, "Baby, that's... Thank you. I don't know what to say. I love you so fucking much. I'll make sure you see our kiss, okay?"
"I will be watching. I love you, My Shane. Go show the world why Shane Fucking Hollander is the goat, okay?"
On the night Shane wins his third Stanley Cup, he kisses their spot on the cup, thinking only of Ilya, and longs for a day where he can pull him onto the ice like Scott did with Kip.
On the night Shane wins his fourth Stanley cup, he hoists the cup into the air with his captain, they both kiss the same spot on the trophy, and then in front of the world, on his home ice, Shane Hollander kisses his husband, and it feels like a promise fulfilled.
One like nitpick thing that drives me crazy is when people call Blue Whales the largest whales or the largest living mammals or some shit like that
Because yes that is true. But when you frame it like that you are completely disregarding the absolutely batshit reality that Blue Whales are the largest animals that have ever existed on earth through the entire history of the planet and they are alive right now today
ocd will have you feeling like Orpheus trying not to look back
Shane saying, "Fuck I'm scared," and Ilya saying, "Yes it's scary, but you're brave," and Shane kneeling at his feet while Ilya rubs the back of his head —they're talking about Everything here.
Shane's "not here" in the showers, and "not with Scott Hunter next door" in the hotel room, and "with who 😠" in Vegas before they go out on stage — he's afraid of hooking up & being found out, and he's afraid of never getting to hook up again. He's afraid of what Ilya can give him and what he can take away from him. He's scared because he's worked hard and has so much to lose.
And Ilya sees his fear and Allows it. Encourages Shane to feel it, endure it, while Ilya adds to it, and praises Shane for getting through it. Shane's fear is proof that he's vulnerable and real and every time he shows that part of himself to Ilya he's Allowing Ilya to do whatever he wants with it. Ilya hears Shane's "with who 😠" and 15 minutes later follows him into the bathroom, shrugs off ghosting him for six months, and responds to Shane's "what the fuck do you actually want from me" with a smug "I want you to suck my dick".
And what is Shane supposed to do? He's angry, he's upset, he's lonely and horny and sad. And he's scared that Ilya doesn't care about him anymore. And he yells back, "You suck MY dick" and he can't help it, there's a quiver in his voice, and he's showing Ilya his fear, his insecurity, his little skip of a heartbeat. It's a gift, really. A form of courage. And it fills Ilya with a kind of puffed up pride for Shane, his Shane, his brave boy. "Maybe ask nicely," Ilya tells him, and encourages him to give into his fear. And he does, Shane asks so nicely, with the sweetest double please.
Ilya gives Shane the gift of Fear and Shane says thank you, here is my neck, feel my pulse with your teeth.
@11hearstrings YESSSSS fear as Intimacy fear as How I Can Hold You fear as a Window into my innermost secrets. Ilya likes using fear to see Shane’s insides and Shane’s like, look closer, there’s so much more to see.
Yes, and also some great tags from @awakenedpotential Part 1 of 2
And Part 2 of 2
Let’s rip this wound open again !!!!

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shane hollander bouncing on it in the passenger seat of ilya’s faggy orange lamborghini aventador hitting his head on the ceiling bump bump bump because it’s a really small fucking car send post
it's @treblerose689's birthday! here's a smutty lil minific written with some of her favourite things in mind: begging + degradation + desperation + coming from dry humping 🙂↕️ enjoy!!
—
“Fuck, I need you inside me, like, yesterday.”
Ilya gives a short, breathless laugh into Shane’s neck, biting his bare shoulder. “Wow, wow. So desperate for it, you can’t even wait to give me proper hello.”
“This is your hello, asshole,” Shane grits out, his hands pawing at Ilya’s clothes, as clumsy and greedy as Ilya feels. They’ve barely made it two steps inside their home, Ilya’s bag dropped carelessly at their feet.
“No ‘welcome home, my wonderful husband’,” Ilya pants, squeezing one of Shane’s pecs. “No ‘how was your trip, love of my life, tell me everything’...”
“Later,” Shane hisses, with a sinful roll of his hips. Ilya growls, crowding him back into the wall of their entranceway, and Shane draws him into his rhythm so they’re grinding like teenagers.
Ilya’s so fucking hard. He’s been hard since the goddamn taxi from the airport, since Shane started texting him all Really missed your dick and I need to be filled so bad, in that matter-of-fact way of his.
“Baby, please,” Shane moans, tipping his head back, eyes gone soft and glistening as his long lashes flutter, pretty pink lips hanging open all swollen and wet. It’s unfair, really.
“Yes, yes,” Ilya manages, nodding jerkily. “I know. You need this cock. I will fuck you like you deserve, lyubimyy.”
A bead of sweat trickles down the nape of his neck, beneath his jacket and t-shirt. Something about being fully clothed with Shane in only his favourite worn-soft grey sweatpants drives him out of his mind. Shane’s cock twitches against Ilya’s hip through the thin material, and Ilya knows he’s wearing nothing underneath. Beautiful, eager little slut.
Ilya’s stomach tightens, balls tingling, electricity thrumming through him. Shit, he’s in trouble. He should pull back. Take a breath. But he just—can’t find the strength to tear away.
They kiss messy and open-mouthed, smearing spit over his lips and chin, and Ilya’s hips thrust clumsily with a mind of their own. He moans at the filthy friction of it, at the solid warmth of Shane’s body under his. He’s missed it. He needs it.
He shoves his hands down the back of Shane’s sweats, hauling him closer and shamelessly groping his ass.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah, please,” Shane moans, clinging to Ilya’s shoulders and trying to wrap a leg around him. “C’mon, baby. Fuck me.”
Ilya’s eyes squeeze shut as his cock kicks, pulsing a hot spill of pre-come into his boxers. He can’t stop grinding forward, chasing that too-much-not-enough, Shane squirming and whining as they pant into each others’ mouths. Ilya grips his ass tight enough to bruise, shakes his cheeks a little to feel them jiggle, then parts them.
His fingertips brush Shane’s hole, and oh, fuck. It’s soft and open and so fucking wet, and it yields so sweetly under his touch—
“I got ready—” Shane gasps, and that’s it.
The orgasm slams through him, stealing his breath and leaving him humping forward gracelessly, driving Shane into the wall with the force of it. He buries his flushed-red face into Shane’s hair, moaning when the familiar scent of his shampoo sends another violent pulse through his body. It feels endless, spilling and spilling into his pants, the filthy-wet slide of his boxers over his sensitive cock only drawing it out as he mindlessly ruts against Shane.
“Oh my god,” Ilya groans weakly.
“Oh my god,” Shane echoes in disbelief, but he holds him close as he quivers through it, shoving his knee up for Ilya to ride it out. His big hands sweep soothingly over his back.
Ilya swallows when the aftershocks fade out and a quiet pause settles between them. It’s Shane who pushes him back, forcing him to meet Shane’s eyes. There’s an apology on his lips, but Shane kisses it away, cupping his face with both hands and laughing sweetly into it.
“You laugh at me,” Ilya complains, but he’s smiling too, dazed and stupid and lovedrunk.
“No.” Shane shakes his head, rubbing the tips of their noses together. Ilya winces a little as his oversensitive dick twitches at that. Fuck, he really is in love. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
Ilya smiles wider, chest puffing up, and pulls Shane into a deep kiss. Shane sighs into it, languidly sliding his tongue along Ilya’s, before he pushes at Ilya’s chest again.
“So, wait… which one of us were you calling desperate?”
—
if you liked this, check out my HR fics on ao3!