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"Heated RivalryĀ didnāt create Hudson Williams. It just gave the rest of the world a reason to look."
"I found myself watching a young Asian man stand under the Golden Globes lights, completely unguarded, received by white-dominated Hollywood with genuine delight ā and looking like nothing the industry had ever deliberately produced. He hadnāt been media-trained into blandness. He hadnāt distanced himself from the showās fanbase to seem more serious, more Hollywood, more palatable. Heād arrived exactly as he was, from exactly where he came from."
"They didnāt quite know what box to put him in. So they just let him exist.
Which, for an Asian man in Hollywood, is rarer than it sounds."
"Where Hudson Williams goes from here is still being written. The scripts are piling up. The agency is CAA now, not The Old Spaghetti Factory. He has walked runways in Milan, attended the Met Gala, wielded the Olympic torch. The world that didnāt know his name two years ago canāt seem to stop saying it."
Hudson Williams and the accidental reinvention of the Asian male lead
One of the best pieces on Hudson Williams that I've ever read. Insightful, well-written, intelligent.
@eldritchazure alright well now I'm thinking of a scenario wherein Hayden talks himself feverishly into thinking that A. Werewolves are real and B. Shane is one because he always gets shifty around the full moon and sometimes even skips optional skates or social events the next day if they hit on the full moon and eventually through some weird hijinks it comes out that no Hayden fucking OF COURSE there aren't werewolves. The full moon is just when Shane and Ilya do their predator/prey roleplay and fuck in the woods like a pair of wild animals.
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"This isn't working... Some days I think I'll scream or die if I have to keep this secret any longer... No, I- I haven't talked to him much about my feelings still... I still have not told him that I'm seeing you... I don't know when I'll see him again. Not for a week at least... Are you going to pretend to be Shane? Good, you'd have to be much more annoying... No, I tell him that he's annoying all the time..."
And then the book leaves out exactly what he says, but in the next chapter his thoughts are essentially (to Shane): 'I'm still willing to do whatever it takes to be with you...'
What if Shane came back the morning after their Boxing Day fight? What if Ilya felt too awful to get out of the house, so he called Galina instead?
WHAT IF SHANE OVERHEARD JUST THESE BITS OF ILYA'S SIDE OF THE CALL?
(I know this would take some work. Maybe Shane's been secretly learning Russian - and these are the onky parts he can make out.)
THE ANGST WHILE SHANE THINKS ILYA IS TALKING TO ANOTHER PARTNER!
Everyone is always "Shane Vegas subdrop" but no one wants to talk about Ilya Vegas domdrop.
Ilya is sitting in that bed like "wonder why I feel so empty". I'm very pro-doms-need-aftercare-too and Ilya needs to shower Shane in tender little kisses or else he also crashes.
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āHollander,ā he scolds, going to collect Shaneās jeans and underwear to fold them so that the world doesnāt break or something. āWhat are you doing?ā
āGiving you a new pack, idiot. Take your pants off.ā
āORā
Ilya is being sent back to Russia to take over as Rozanov pack alpha. Unless he can find a new pack first. (Words: 7,302)
I love that the antagonist in Heated Rivalry is homophobia and toxic masculinity. Like, sure they have some failure to communicate and they make some unfortunate choices, but it's all very understandable because they are both very very afraid. And the thing is... their fears are so valid that it's nauseating.
Summary: āGo?ā Rozanov repeats, and Shane thinks he manages to nod, thinks he manages to spin some kind of excuse that he knows Rozanov doesnāt really buy, but he needs to go. He needs to get out of here. He needs to find somewhere quiet and calm where he can ride out this panic and painful tightness until he can catch his breath again. He needs-
He needs to go.
āIām sorry,ā he says, turning heel and resisting the urge to just book it right for the front door only because heād rather not have to explain to Hayden why he returned from a hookup with Boston Lily in menās clothes that he certainly didnāt leave in.
Itās not until he makes it halfway up the stairs to Rozanovās bedroom that it occurs to him in a cold rush that it isnāt just anxiety that makes it this hard to breathe.
āNo,ā he tells himself firmly, white knuckling the bannister and trying to take a deep breath just to prove that he can.
It wheezes.
(how the tuna meltdown is averted through the power of food allergies and anaphylaxis)
Summary: āGo?ā Rozanov repeats, and Shane thinks he manages to nod, thinks he manages to spin some kind of excuse that he knows Rozanov doesnāt really buy, but he needs to go. He needs to get out of here. He needs to find somewhere quiet and calm where he can ride out this panic and painful tightness until he can catch his breath again. He needs-
He needs to go.
āIām sorry,ā he says, turning heel and resisting the urge to just book it right for the front door only because heād rather not have to explain to Hayden why he returned from a hookup with Boston Lily in menās clothes that he certainly didnāt leave in.
Itās not until he makes it halfway up the stairs to Rozanovās bedroom that it occurs to him in a cold rush that it isnāt just anxiety that makes it this hard to breathe.
āNo,ā he tells himself firmly, white knuckling the bannister and trying to take a deep breath just to prove that he can.
It wheezes.
(how the tuna meltdown is averted through the power of food allergies and anaphylaxis)
Shane Hollander has a secret life. No, not the one where he's hiding his trysts with his rival. He's a pseudonymous hockey romance author under the alias Jane Dutch.
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I love this fic very much!! The mixed media is *chef's kiss* I could rage about it for ages. This is a repost bc I whole (and hole š¤”š„µ) heartedly believe it deserves all the love.
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so tell me when you're going to let me in, i'm getting tired and i need somewhere to begin
It's how it's always been done. The season starts in October and ends in June, every Cup winner has their name written on it, and omega and alphas are expected to contribute to the pool of future hockey prospects.
on ao3
It's not that Shane didn't expect it.
If it's about hockey, Shane already knows everything. Since he started getting scouted in middle school, Shane has more or less had a general outline of what his life was going to be: minor hockey to junior hockey toāhopefullyāthe MHL. He's anticipated every entry-draft and every championship, had planned for it, or followed the plans Mom built for him. Shane anticipated this too. This was the thing that he tried not to think about, or have to talk with his mom and dad, since he was thirteen. It's been settled into stone since his medical chart first had O written on it.
Thinking about it made Shane's face heat and his stomach wrap itself into knots, and hearing his mom and dad try to talk about it was even worse. The thought has always made Shane feel like a kid, even if he's nineteen now, and a MHL draftee, second overall or not. He feels like a kid even while putting on his Rebooks, like his mom wants him to use them, and the Montreal hoodie he'd been given in draft day, getting ready for this meeting a week after it.
All the big suits from the day of the draft are in the conference room when Shane and his mom get there, along with a few more strangers. It takes Shane shaking their hands, trying to pretend his stomach isn't all up in knots again, for him to realize they're all probably the team lawyers.
"Shane, we just want to tell you again how happy we are for you to be joining our franchise," the GM says, smiling cleanly at both him his mom. Everyone sitting around the table's got a smile like that. "We're very excited. We've followed your career very closely in the junior league. Naturally, we were all hoping you'd win the Prospect Cup for Canada, but we were impressed with your performance in the tournament either way, and we know you're going to be doing great things along with us."
Shane nods, because it feels like it'd be rude not to. He can't make himself meet anyone's eyes.
There's a full desk watching him, like he's surrounded by sharks. Mom's sitting by his side, and holding his hand out of view, but it's just the two of them against a full room. "Of courseā" the GM continues, and Mom's hand squeezes, "there's the matter of the future prospect contribution."
Contribution is a weird way to put it. It sounds like a gift, not something you're made to do; maybe that's the point. The GM's talking like this is just another conversation in his week, and it probably is. It's Shane's life the one that's going to be changed.
"Now, as his agent, I'm sure you've read everything in the contracts we've sent, yes, Mrs Hollander?"
Mom straightens up. "Yes. I took the liberty to cross-check it with other omega draftees in the league's historyā"
The Metros GM raises a hand to stop her, smile turning more patronizing than welcoming now. "I'm also sure you've read up all the precedents you could, Mrs Hollander. But the terms to Shane's contract, if he's going to take it, and we hope he will, are those we presented to you. We've been very generous in our offers, considering the caliber of Shane's playing."
"It's not the contract's payment that I'm concerned about," Mom says.
The table must have been expecting that too, because the GM's smile doesn't flicker. "Naturally. Now, Shane, I understand it might seem very daunting for you at this momentā" he says it like it's something Shane will grown out of, grow used to, somehow, "but I assure you that this has been part of the induction of every omega in the entire history of the league. There have been several other omegas in this year's draftāincluding other picks from usāand all of them will make prospect contributions. It's not only you."
That's offered with an air of reassurance, but Shane struggles to find anything comforting in it. He's not going to feel any more prepared no matter how many other omegas are expected to pump out a baby for the league.
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