ao3 | writing tag - text & photo. incurable tag talker. some attempts at organization. - currently: heated rivalry - this is a choose not to warn blog.
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the swiss hockey team isn't even like enjoying it unlike the sf giants' outfielders who had so much fun with it. booooo
LMAO i love that everyone is like THE SWISS BOYS ARE BEING TOO PERFUNCTORY ABOUT THE SIMULATED FUCKING. here's the thing though, there's something narratively interesting about that... in my mind i'm creating a winner's room...
okay imagine shane & ilya pitted against each other from the start, trading who the forfeit is back and forth every time they play each other, and it's been like handjobs & blowjobs their whole rookie year but ilya is On A Mission the whole time (getting hollander to ask to be fucked in the ass), a multiyear journey that culminates in a frankly too sweet for a winner's room anal. and THEN before shane can process any of this he gets ghosted.
okay, so there's the olympics, but that's russia. and then three weeks after the metros lose to the raiders but rozanov doesn't pick the forfeit. sure, the raiders goalie had a shutout, but rozanov could have-- he didn't have to-- the game after that shane picks rozanov very deliberately and then gets told rozanov used his right of refusal (the player's association negotiated one per season) which almost no one ever uses because then you're a pussy and you're not a team player and and and.
the next time they play each other is in the playoffs and playoffs are different, you don't forfeit until the elimination game, but after raiders win in 5 rozanov (obviously it's rozanov) picks shane after all and shane grits his teeth and walks into the room determined to ask what the fuck is wrong with him, but the moment he's through the door a bottle of lube hits him in the chest. "open yourself up," rozanov says. he's not even looking at him. so it's going to be like that.
anyway shane isn't a chicken and he doesn't need it like that first time, whatever, he can take it, he opens himself up and bends over the bed and lets rozanov fuck him, lazy roll of his hips like he doesn't even want it, like this is a chore for him instead of a fucking reward, and if shane were normal he wouldn't like it, he wouldn't be hard, he wouldn't want--
(after rozanov leaves shane presses his face into the sheets and it takes every bit of his iron self-control to not touch himself, to think about absolutely nothing for fifteen minutes until his dick goes soft)
imagine before the draft lottery all the draft projections were like, hollander and rozanov are both so fucking good but hollander is canadian and the bottom two teams are montreal & ottawa so he's got a slight edge. then boston sitting at fifth wins the lottery and rozanov is obviously the right fit for boston, everybody knows that. shane hollander sitting with the increasingly certain knowledge that he didn't do anything wrong but he's going to get drafted second anyway. hockey's never been fair. he loves it so much and it never loves him back. a fucking lottery.
the other thing about rookies i'm thinking this morning is "montreal is nice, yes?"/"yeah, it's awesome" like shane is a BOY and he just got drafted by a canadian team. his mother's team, the team that made her feel canadian. he answers so easy. he's gonna live in this city for a decade. he's going to win cups for this city. he's going to fall in love & have his heart broken & find out who he is in this city, and then ultimately in the end he's going to have to leave because he couldn't be perfect. you're an awesome player to watch. yeah, it's awesome. something beautiful shane wants to make a part of him, and he gets one but he doesn't get to have both.
at the 2010 prospect cup when grigori is telling ilya that he has to beat him, he has to win over hollander, and then you're able to recontextualize their first meeting a year earlier as ilya seeing someone who was only an enemy & realizing he's a boy, the same as him, and winning which had previously been a duty becomes something fun
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i just read your little ficlet speed limit and it is actually very funny how easy it would be for them to just buy or rent a random house in some small town half way point. like not even as a fuck condo they could spend several days a week together when they don’t have games! and even driving an hour to the stadium for a game is hardly anything! ilya’s house in boston is probably an hour outside of the city lol. so much of the tlg conflict could be fixed by a very small purchase by two very rich people !!
scream TO BE FAIR. i haven't read the long game but i imagine the problems are more than just geographical? such as:
82-game schedule is horrific, their road trips aren't always gonna line up, they DON'T actually have a ton of time together and it sucks!!! they spent so long clawing out time for each other and it feels like things should have changed now they've figured things out but they're still fighting for scant hours out of weeks
ilya moved away from his social support system & in ottawa he can't fucking talk to his teammates without lying to them. so why'd you come to ottawa, roz? you doing anything tonight, my wife and i would love to have you for dinner. like shane was always a part of ilya but in ottawa he's almost all of it, so ilya (a hugely social animal) has to stay unknowable!!!
the hockey is the sex but now it's bad hockey? obviously shane doesn't only love ilya when he's winning cups, but this is such an interesting stress to put on a relationship which was built on competing with the only other person who can keep up with you (who can understand you!!!). does ilya think he's still lovable when he's not able to succeed? does shane feel guilty for putting ilya into this position? presumably they are not having frank & honest conversations about this because they are, unfortunately, hockey players
but also the sex is the sex. wait can i say something. if ilya loves being in control during sex because it contrasts so starkly with how he doesn't have control outside of sex then the sex has to be SPECTACULARLY intense while ottawa keeps losing games. sorry i just imagined it and blacked out.
IN CONCLUSION i don't think a halfway house would solve all their problems but they should still have one because ilya needs some place to edge shane for six hours until he cries. (he doesn't get to come before they both need to leave for their respective roadies & the last thing ilya says before he kisses shane goodbye is "don't touch yourself on the trip.")
i feel like wedding djs update their setlist like once a decade... what do you think ilya rozanov was subjected to as he attended the weddings of at least five boston raiders 2011-2018
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A moment I love in the book that wasn’t in the show (but possibly in the next season) is when Shane and Ilya are lying in bed and Shane is fidgeting with Ilya’s cross and they talk about religion for a bit.
Then when Ilya admits that the cross was actually his mother’s, Shane instantly stops fidgeting with it and lays in gently on Ilya’s chest.
Such a tender little detail.
alskdid ok this is very sweet but unfortunately i have bad priorities so: do you think if shane knew, the dead mom of it all would prevent shane from taking the cross between his teeth at some point while they're fucking face to face
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“Oh my god, Ilya, the Morrisons have, like, a dozen grandchildren. What if they—”
“Do not have panic attack, Shane: all good Canadian children are asleep in bed, not spying on neighbors.”
“They sold me this land, the Morrisons. When they heard I wanted to build. They know my parents.”
“So they are one hundred years old then, like Scott Hunter? Probably blind like him, too. They do not see us in the dark.”
“Scott Hunter’s not—”
“Shane, let us not talk about Scott Hunter now, yes? If you are scared, if you are frightened like little chicken, I will understand. You can just say, ‘Ilya, I cannot be so brave like you, I am—”
“Shut up! I said I’d do it, didn’t I? But I’m leaving my water shoes on.”
“You look at me like I will fight you about this Hollander, but you wear socks to bed and I do not complain. Ugly plastic shoes are not so sexy like little socks, but still—”
“My socks are not—whatever. Keep your voice down. It’s just that the lake bed’s all...squishy.”
“Squishy is real English word?”
“Yeah, it means—oh, fuck! Jesus, Ilya, it’s freezing! Holy shit! You said it wasn’t so bad all the way in.”
“Maybe I lied about this, a little.”
“Yeah, no fucking kidding. What are you…?”
“Warming you up. Is okay?”
“Oh. Uh, okay. Oh, wow: look, you can see Cassiopeia. Like, the whole thing!”
“Where is?”
“Well, that’s the north star, above that big tree, and then if you a little farther over—uhm, hey, did you actually want to learn? Or just kiss?”
“Tonight? Just kiss, I think.”
keep thinking about how much ilya loves his father like. he is so tender with him. in sochi when he reminds his father they'll go meet the minister, where presumably he'll be blamed for losing all over again. the summer of giving him meds and then taking the pill bottles away. the note in his voice when he tells alexei he got a text asking for him to bring home bread.
gf has started playing fe3h but she picked the black eagles & now keeps asking me questions like "should i recruit felix" which is dealing me so much psychic damage
this isn't either of these things but it's not NOT, if u squint
------
"I can't believe you just decided not to go," Shane says.
"Oh, you can't?" Ilya pats Shane's knee. Checks the clock. "It's time for ice again, yes?"
"I can get it."
"Don't be stupid, I'm the one with working knees." There are displeased crinkles above Shane's nose; Ilya leans over to kiss them and stands up. "You want anything else?"
"Yeah, to get off this fucking couch."
Shane Hollander has a 55.4% faceoff win percentage. He shoots left. He has a freckle on his right ankle, where Ilya's thumb fits into the hollow of his Achilles' tendon; and he's a terrible patient. It's a new, tender thing to discover, and Ilya grins into the empty kitchen, exultant with it.
When he comes back, Shane's already unwound the compression bandage. "I'm just saying." There's a pinched line between his eyebrows as he wedges the ice pack between his knee and a cushion. "You could be in California right now."
"What the fuck would I do in California?"
"I dunno, go to the beach? Go out with the guys. And you wouldn't have the suspension, you'd be playing hockey--"
Ilya laughs. "Not serious hockey."
"Well, no," Shane admits, "but sometimes it's kind of nice. Reminds me of being a kid, you know?"
Ilya does know. "Shane, I'll tell you a secret," he says. "All these years, I have not been going to the All-Star Game for the fans, or the league, or because of stupid suspension."
"What, really?"
Big, surprised eyes. How can Shane not know, the slow steady way he'd been upending Ilya's life all this time? "You would never turn down an invitation."
"It's literally in the player contract."
Shane's mouth is a prim, flat line. Ilya feels wild about it, has to put his teeth into Shane's shoulder. "Right," he says. "So instead of fucking off to Florida or Greece or Malta--"
"Malta?"
"--I went to play with you."
"Oh," Shane says. His mouth is softening like butter. "I guess that was always my favorite part, too. I kinda kept hoping we'd be on the same team."
Ten more minutes for the ice pack. If Ilya's very careful, he can probably suck Shane off without jostling the knee. "How's the pain," he says, and puts a hand on the inside of Shane's thigh. "You think you can get hard?"
"Seriously?" Shane blinks. "This conversation is what's doing it for you?"
"Mm, yes, it's very sexy." Ilya slides down onto the rug and reaches for the button of Shane's fly. "My boyfriend wants to send me to California and ice his knee by himself. I think I can make him forget his own name."
"You're not that good," Shane says, rolling his eyes, but he's shifting his good leg outward, making space. If Ilya leaned forward he could tug at the waistband of Shane's briefs with his teeth.
Nowhere else he'd rather be. "We'll see," Ilya says, grinning up at Shane. Hand at Shane's hip, forearm across his thigh. "And if you don't drop the ice pack, maybe I'll even let you come, yes?"
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ok this might be a dumb question but in your Wolf AU during the team gangbangs what are all the rest of the guys doing when one of them is fucking shane? are they kinda wrestling like the wolves? or are they just standing like 🧍♂️🧍♂️🧍♂️🧍♂️ (which picturing is kinda killing me lol)
oh my god thank you for this incredibly funny question. i think there's probably a little bit of pecking order jostling as the wolves fight it out/decide who's gonna go next but there's also a lot of standing around not looking at each other because (importantly) they are all hard. there's some furtive jerking off. honestly homosocial denial is so powerful i could see some guys sitting on the benches being like so... how was that game last night while shane's getting fucked on the other side of the room. they're not looking that way out of respect but when there's a lull in the conversation they can still hear it. it's definitely not gay though don't worry about it
no, i will not stop reccing you gay hockey fanfictions
object lessons by meriwethersays (E | 1956 | Shane/Ilya)
The other new guys laugh awkwardly when Levesque says, “On y va, fif! Go, get the funniest dildo you can find and get back here” outside Boutique Érotique. Shane is dizzy from all the wine they drank at dinner—he doesn’t drink, but this is his team now—and he stumbles in with the rest of them, trying to keep his eyes—well, anywhere, because everywhere he looks there are curves and bulges and he keeps thinking, absurdly, of Ilya Rozanov across from him in the hotel gym floor, of the curve of his lips as he said Sorry and the shape of his cock between his legs.
hate me there by martiansands (M | 4241 | Shane/Ilya)
Even before he played his first NHL game, Ilya expected his career would involve bearing the brunt of some dislike. Hockey was entertainment, a spectacle; somebody had to play the heel. He didn’t mind that. He didn’t expect people to dislike Hollander.
All Alone In Our Own Universe by songstress (E | 27456 | Shane/Ilya)
When Shane Hollander wakes up in a world that never invented hockey, the only other person who remembers is Ilya Rozanov.
(Set in August 2012 – a year and a half after their last hookup, during the flirtatious-texts montage.)
always starving, never full by coffeeincallcaps (E | 4168 | Shane/Ilya)
The steady, persistent pressure of Rozanov’s thick cock sinking into him is unlike anything Shane has ever felt before. He feels impossibly full, impossibly exposed, but more than that, he feels good.
Fuck, it’s good.
It’s so good that he forgets to feel awkward as he begins to rock back into Rozanov’s thrusts. He forgets to feel ashamed as Rozanov draws sounds out of him he didn’t even know he was capable of making. As Rozanov drives him out of his mind and deep into his own body, holds him there, forces him to feel everything and think nothing at all—
Shane forgets to feel anything but good.
(In which Shane has a dirty fantasy, and Ilya runs with it.)
//
“Ah,” Ilya says softly, brushing a finger along the column of Shane’s throat. “Is that what you want, Hollander? To be humiliated?”
“Yes,” Shane says, the word a guttural moan. “No? I don’t know. Maybe. Fuck.”
“To be put to good use? To be told what to do?”
“Yes,” Shane gasps, relieved to be asked a simpler question. “That’s what I want.”
meteorite by allapologies [E | 7613 | Cliff/Shane, Shane/Ilya(/Cliff)]
Hollander knew how to arch his back just so. He had dimples above his ass. Cliff began to wonder if Shane Hollander was a bit of a slut. Wasn’t that a fucking thought?
//
A clown car pileup of events leads Cliff Marlow to Shane Hollander's doorstep at 10pm on a Thursday in Montreal.
pull like a dog by segs (E | 6858 | Shane/Ilya)
Statement from Boston Raiders General Manager Rick Doughty:
We are aware of a video circulating online from earlier this summer of the locker room celebration proceeding Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Final. This was a personal recording of an adrenaline-fueled moment inside our private facilities and was not intended to be seen by the public.
shorthanded by deadmemewalking (E | 4491 | Shane/Ilya)
Like two images superimposed, Ilya sees the Hollander from that public bathroom in Vegas: different suit, dorkier haircut, same glassy-eyed stare. He’s in both places at once, facing down the same beautiful wealth of opportunity.
Ilya’s blood sings. It’s so clear, suddenly, how to get exactly what he wants. How to exorcize this horrible post-game worthlessness.
fix up, look sharp by distira (E | 4483 | Shane/Ilya)
In 2025, the NHL dropped the mandatory suit and tie on game day as a part of the league’s new collective bargaining agreement. Let’s imagine this happened in the MLH about ten years earlier, and that Shane Hollander fucking hated it.
Blood for the Blood God by agatestones (not rated | 4388 | Shane-centric)
[Clippings from the New Yorker] This seems a little unkind to you but maybe I mean a little unkind to hockey? Because it also makes you sound like a superhero. Love you -- Dad
when you leave here by Idday (M | 8094 | Shane/Ilya)
“It just feels like such a nothing story," Shane says. "But my mom’s so fucking... worked up about it.”
Ilya watches him. “I think,” he says carefully, “that your mom is also the parent of a teenage boy who played on that hockey team. And not just the manager of a person who is being asked for comment on a bad story. Yes?”
...
(Shane was fifteen years old when he moved to Sarnia.)
baby take me don't hesitate by leiascully (E | 4889 | Shane/Ilya)
Shane has a request.
Car Talk by tuesdaycoming (E | 8477 | Shane/Ilya)
"Eyes are on the road, Hollander. I am being good, yes?" Shane swallows. Without music, Ilya must be able to hear the spit gathered in his mouth. "Are you?"
Shane is watching him so closely. He would know if Ilya glanced his way, even for a second, and it pulls low in his stomach to know for sure that he absolutely isn't being looked at. Shane is just that obvious.
"Is that the game we're playing?"
Ilya licks his lips, eyes flicking up to check the mirror, not Shane, but it's something. "That's always the game we're playing, Shane, but right now, you are losing." Yes. Probably.
-------
During a stolen weekend in Boston, Ilya gets Shane to come with him on a drive outside the city. Shane learns to appreciate the Porsche.
jbbartram-illu
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