⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

this kind of policing is why ao3 was created

remember, kids, the three laws of fandom are:

- don’t like; don’t read

- your kink is not my kink

It’s… fine, overall. But he knows that sleep doesn’t come as easily to him as it does to the average person. It takes time for him to get his brain to turn off all the way, it takes a few tosses and turns to get comfortable. It can even be hard to stay asleep sometimes, the smallest of sounds or movements from a teammate in a hotel room can jostle him right awake at random hours of the night.

Unless he sleeps on Shane. Not even next to Shane. But on top of Shane.

The first time it happened was at the cottage. It was their first night together and Ilya had found himself curled up on Shane’s lap in front of the fire, Shane’s fingers soothingly scrunched in his hair, scratching at his scalp in just the best way. And Ilya was tired. Exhausted from the flight, from the anxiety of facing this large expanse of time he was to spend with the man he loved but had not expressed it, and opening up about his mother was the final blow, leaving him so emotionally drained that the flames licking in front of him just turned into an orange blur.

He wanted to stay there forever, with Shane’s thighs pillowing him, a hand rubbing up and down his body with another in his hair. So he closed his eyes. 

Ilya had no idea he had fallen asleep until he later felt rubbing at the space behind his ear on the edge of his jaw, Shane’s voice guiding him back to consciousness. “It’s late, Ilya,” Shane murmured. “Why don’t you start heading to bed while I put out the fire? I’ll be right behind you.”

Ilya made sure to stay awake until Shane clambered into the bed ten minutes later.

The next time was only days later. Shane was sitting across from him on the couch, their feet pressed together, his eyes shining, voice wobbling as he said “Don’t marry Svetlana." Ilya couldn’t stop himself from standing up, gathering the blanket that had been draped over him, and flopping into Shane’s side.

“I’m fine,” Shane had begun to protest as Ilya pulled the blanket over them both.

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Ilya replied simply, squirming up against Shane until he could tuck his head on Shane’s shoulder, forehead pressed to his neck. “Maybe I’m just cold.”

Shane scoffed and looked back down at his phone, Ilya quickly scanning the screen. “Are you really reading hockey shit right now?” 

He felt Shane shrug against his head. “I know, I know. Call me boring, I accept it.”

Ilya grinned and snuggled closer. “Is fine. You’re good pillow either way.”

Shane rested his head on Ilya’s and began to scroll, and Ilya could do nothing but close his eyes, and let sleep take him in seconds. He was woken up again later, Shane gently whispering in his ear to coax him to bed.

…Only to wake him later in the middle of the night, promptly kicking Ilya’s ass with a detailed plan about how they could spend the rest of their lives together. Ilya passed out on Shane like a human sized weighted blanket, tears still wet on his face.

The sweetest time Ilya did it at the cottage was in front of Shane’s parents. The day after Shane came out to them, Yuna and David stopped by for dinner. Eventually the group sat by the fire, stars twinkling in the sky, and Ilya could feel himself crashing. Between the sex and the emotional conversations, the amount of sleep he was having was not enough, and he could feel it. Shane and his parents were chatting around him and Ilya lost focus, leaning over his knees and staring into the fire, trying to focus on the shapes of the flames to keep his eyes open.

He eventually felt a gentle pull at his shoulder. It was Shane guiding him to lean back against the back of the couch with him, tucking Ilya into his neck and shoulder once again. Ilya wanted to object, but found himself curling into Shane’s warmth, and closed his eyes. 

Shane didn’t wake him this time, instead the continued voices pulled him back to awareness. He kept his eyes closed and listened to the conversation, not wanting to lose the way Shane held him. Ilya began to realize that they were talking about him.

“-been really tired these past few days. It’s been a lot for both of us.”

“I can imagine,” Yuna replied softly. “He seems quite comfortable with you.”

“He’s been doing this a couple of times,” Shane’s grip on Ilya’s shoulder tightened in a squeeze. “Knocks right out on me.”

“Because he knows you’re safe.” Yuna said. Then, after a stretch of silence, “He seems like a really sweet boy.”

“Yeah,” Shane said after a beat. “He is.”

It took everything in Ilya not to smile.

And it became a regular occurrence after that. Shane would joke that Ilya was just using him as a cheat code, since being on top of him seemed to magically make Ilya pass out in seconds, but Yuna’s words stuck with him. The safety that Shane gave him was unlike anything he ever had, and he took advantage of that whenever he could. Over the following years, Ilya would always find himself flopping on top of Shane whenever possible. Shane would be reading his book in bed in his adorable glasses and Ilya would press into his neck, read a few words of his boring hockey book, and sleep. He would drape himself over Shane on the couch, press his face into Shane’s chest, and sleep. Once they’re on the Centaurs together, he would sleep on Shane during flights because planes made him more nervous after the emergency landing and would rather not be conscious. 

And as for Shane? Shane loved it. He loved every part of it. He loved the moment he could feel Ilya’s body slacken, he loved the soft snoring noises he would make. And he especially loved when he would wake Ilya up. He would blink up at Shane so softly and scrub at his eyes, smiling dreamily as Shane rubbed whatever part of his body that he had access to. And Ilya would always tilt his head up for a kiss, which Shane would of course oblige. And Ilya would make the cutest noise on the planet, only reserved for these moments, where Shane wakes him up to herd Ilya to wherever he needs to be next. It’s just the softest noise of contentment and peace, sometimes Shane would kiss him a second time just to hear it again. 

Back in June, I asked folks to tell me about their most self-indulgent Hollanov AUs: those fics that live in your heart or that you're dying to read, even if they make no sense for Shane and Ilya.

The response was more than I could have imagined. Shane and Ilya (and Jane and Liliya!) became about astronauts and actors, journalists and musicians, retired hockey players, fantasy creatures, heroic knights, and party to an organized crime syndicate. They were in the 60s in Moscow and Canada, in Regency England, in a 15th-century monastery. They met as kids, or in high school, or as up-and-coming political opponents. It was a day spent celebrating everything we love about Hollanov without the constraints of pesky logistics or concerns about realism.

And now, we're doing it again!

On the AU-gth (8th) of August, we'll be celebrating another Self-indulgent Hollanov AU Day. To participate, just hop over to my ask box and write to your heart's content. You can share your ideas now, or wait until the big day! Please note that your ask is for Self-indulgent AU Day, so I won't share it early.

When it's the AU-gth, I'll post everyone's fic ideas in a day-long spree! Everything will be tagged #HollanovAUgth if you want to follow along, or go ahead and scroll through now to see what folks wrote last time!

Let's have some fun during the hiatus, shall we?

but let people off the fuckin train before you try to get on

Back on my bullshit I fear. Not exactly a FAFO sitch but Yuna certainly….learns some things.

—

Taken Care Of: A Hollanov Ficlet feat. Yuna Hollander

rating: m | wc: 1.2k | tags: not much idk sexting?, minor daddy kink, Yuna being lowk funny, Ilya being Ilya

—

The Nomads are down three at the end of the second, and Yuna is not the least bit surprised. “What a fucking shitshow,” she shakes her head, hitting mute for the commercials. 

“You always call it.”

Yuna smiles at Shane next to her on the couch and pats his leg, just the two of them as David runs errands on a bright Saturday afternoon. 

Shane hoists himself off the couch during the break, heading toward the bathroom. But before he disappears, his head swings back around the corner 

“Oh, before I forget, I got an email from Calvin Klein that, for whatever reason, didn’t go to you first. Will you take a look at it? I got side-tracked and didn’t forward it.”

“You got it,” she throws over the couch. “Did you change your phone password?”

“Nope, still the same,” he yells from down the hall.

Shane, who has only ever taken his mother as a date to every MLH function he's been invited to since he was a teenager: Do you think it's weird that my mother is so involved in my professional life?

“Hey,” Cliff says, suddenly struck with the best idea he’s ever had. “I think I know someone you’d get along great with.”

“Marleau, I’m not really looking—“

“No, no, trust me. He’s a good guy, and one of the best hockey players I’ve ever met—aside from you, of course.”

Shane isn’t sure where Cliff is going with this, but he does know he’s not interested in anyone but Ilya.

“I know you mean well but—“

“Rozanov,” Cliff announces, grin a mile wide, and Shane blinks. Cliff, for his part, is incredibly sure this is a good idea; he knows that Ilya is bisexual, even if he doesn’t talk about it. Even Cliff is aware of the dangers with Russia. Even if the rest of the league hates it, they can fuck off.

Mistaking Shane’s silence for skepticism, Cliff continues, “I know he seems like an asshole, but he’s one of the best men you’ll ever meet. I know you’ve seen it—the whole rivalry thing is bullshit anyways, right? He’s actually a big softie…”

no, I wouldn’t mind at all

heated rivalry x dan by noah kahan

bonus: