I've finallyyy gotten into making fandom content and people like to share that stuff on here so like. Yay. Enjoy my musings on the Gay Hockey Show.
You don't have to be sorry (for doing it on your own)
Ilya unexpectedly has to adopt his niece after Alexei dies. Takes place fight after the All Star Game after Tunagate. 41k
(fyi I misspelt Rozanov every single time in this and haven't gotten around to fixing it so like. woopsies)
Safer in Chains Than to be Free
Soulmates AU but Russia finds out about Ilya. 21k. Wildly implausible but I don't care. LOTS of hurt (graphic violence, panic attacks, nightmares) so be warned. First of a series and the sequel, The Knife You Turn Inside Yourself, 30k. Series is marked complete for now but we'll see.
the silence that remains
Yuna dies. High key just sad. But like. Also there's drama. 9k.
Home (running)
Shane quits hockey because his anxiety and control issues and locker room homophobia. And then he plays exhibition baseball because I say so. 50k.
The Devil on Your Shoulder
Yuna is a Yakuza boss. (It changes everything) (It changes nothing) Mostly follows cannon up to a point. WIP. Updates several times a week.
Anyways. Please check it out! give me ideas! I don't know! I want to get more involved in the fandom space so like. Hi!
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cackling about the idea of shane and ilya getting separated on the bench from time to time and the public thinks "oooh, trouble in paradise? the rivalry rearing its head again?? hollander getting fed up with rozanov??"
and the truth is that the team was playing against someone ilya and/or shane ESPECIALLY hates, which means shane was dropping the most vicious, lethal reads known to man and making ilya crack tf up to the point that they were attracting attention and the coach was just afraid of someone reading lips and getting them all in trouble
and signficantly, the three person buffer between them just keeps shane from SAYING his comments
he and ilya are still leaning forward and backward to look at each other and exchange "mhm" "mhm" looks that still make it clear they're still communicating their thoughts perfectly fine
harris creates ILYA JEOPARDY for ilya’s 32nd birthday and the centaurs are hyped to see who can get more points than Shane; Bood and Ilya have been captains for years together, Troy and Ilya are best friends, Wyatt and Ilya have their own captain-goalie relationship, Luca is his mentee etc etc all the centaurs have their own thing with Ilya. “yeah Shane’s his husband but I saw him everyday for practice for years I think I’ll get some points in there”. AND the questions aren’t even that hard “what does Ilya order at osmows” “what’s his pre game ritual” “what’s his favourite city” “what’s his favourite gatorade flavour” - the centaurs keep getting the answers like 20% incorrect and shane gets to swoop in and correct them, “it’s actually a loon not a duck actually” “that is NOT his favourite fast and furious” “he doesn’t like blue he likes the light blue gatorade”. Ilya can’t even act nonchalant he feels insanely loved.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
In December, Shane gets a series of screenshotted messages from his mother and a simple instruction: deal with him.
Some idiotic low level dealer has been stealing, skimming off the top of the product and replacing it with a cheap substitute. It’s given the Akuma brand a bad name. Three people have been hospitalized as a result.
Shane isn’t in charge of anything, at least on paper, and so he shouldn’t have to deal with it. Unfortunately, this sort of problem is only becoming larger in Montreal, though. If Shane handles it, it sends a message.
The man is more of a boy than anything, four limbs tied to a chair in a cold warehouse. Shane trudges in snow from the parking lot on his boots. He walks silently. The traitor can’t be older than he is. It’s no excuse. Nobody can be allowed to think that stealing from Akuma is something you can get through scott free.
Shane doesn’t give a sign that he’s in the room until he’s directly behind the man. A light flickers. Shane cringes. This might be a criminal organization, but they don’t need to lean on cliches to intimidate. He moves fast, two hands cup the man’s face from behind. He couldn’t turn to look at Shane if he tried.
“Don’t move,” Shane whispers roughly, the French slipping off his tongue effortlessly, “don’t even fucking breathe.”
The man stiffens.
Good.
When Shane talks, he drops his voice half an octave, leaning deeper into the Quebecois accent he doesn’t naturally possess. Unrecognizable. A necessity, these days.
“Do you know who I am?” Shane demands. The man lets out a shaky breath, but that’s not a response. “Answer when I speak to you.”
“Yes,” it’s immediate. The man is scared.
“Who am I?” Shane is going to make him say it. That’s an important part of this dance.
“You’re her son, aren’t you? Akuma’s son. I heard rumors, but…”
“Yes.” The man speaks so softly Shane almost misses it.
“Good. Then I don’t have to explain to you how much trouble you’re in.”
The man doesn’t even try to argue, he knows there’s no point. “Are you going to kill me?” he asks.
Shane doesn’t reply. He keeps one hand on the man’s face, and uses his other to reach into his belt and pull out his favourite revolver. It’s not practical, but it is beautiful. He trails the cool metal of the barrel from the man’s temple to his jaw.
“Do you think I should?” he asks. It’s a mind game, and it’s cruel, and Shane doesn’t care. If this man could have just done what he was told, Shane wouldn’t have to be here. He can exact a bit of revenge. The man doesn’t answer, quite literally shaking in fear. “Ask nicely, and I won’t,” Shane offers generously.
A moment passes. The man breathes shakily. Shane doesn’t so much as twitch, the gun resting on the man’s collarbone. “Please.” The man’s voice breaks. Tears slip from his eyes.
Shane removes the gun, stepping away softly. The man doesn’t move. He has learned his lesson.
The heavy metal door clangs shut behind Shane, and he signals to his mother’s lackeys to let the man go. They look at him oddly, but Shane confirms it. If they let this guy go, he’ll tell everyone he knows that it’s true, that Akuma’s son is in Montreal. The message will be clear. Shane is not without mercy, but he does not suffer fools either.
While Shane waits for the defrost button to work its magic, he idles in Hayden’s driveway.
On instinct, he gives his jacket a final pat-down. This isn’t the jacket he wore to the All-Star game, but the one he keeps locked in his car, for colder days. Left breast pocket, wallet. Right side pocket, phone. The left side pocket usually holds his keys, but they’re currently occupied in the ignition of the car. Then, in the inside pocket-
Fuck.
Did he remember to take the revolver out of that pocket?
It certainly isn’t there anymore.
He had definitely had it there two weeks ago, because he had used it to subtly threaten some mid-tier Greek enforcer, clicking the barrel over and over in the man’s ear.
Since then, the jacket has been in his locked trunk. Safe. Secure.
Shane can’t risk it just being lost somewhere in his car. If it’s anywhere else…
The gun has never been fired. It’s never needed to be. That doesn’t mean that it isn’t insanely incriminating for Shane to own it at all.
He slams the car door shut again, running back up the steps to Hayden’s house. He tries the door. Locked. He knocks. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Jackie opens it, confused. “Shane? Did you forget something?”
Shane runs a hand through his hair and tries not to look like a crazy person. This is so unlike him. This is so stupid. This is the kind of mistake that ruins everything forever.
“Yeah, sorry, I think something fell out of my pocket when I was here?”
“Oh! Where do you think it happened? I can run and check so you don’t have to take off your shoes again.”
Shane doesn’t deserve this kindness. His eves wander to where his coat had been hanging, trailing down. A diaper bag is half open on the floor, and Shane can just see a glint of metal sticking out where it shouldn’t. Stark against the pure kindness that radiates out of this house.
“Maybe in the living room?” Shane asks to get Jackie to leave, “It might have fallen between the couch cushions?”
“Okay, sure,” Jackie bites her lip, “and what was it again?”
“Um,” Shane blinks. He needs something important enough to come back for, but not important enough that he can’t leave without it, “My watch?” It shouldn’t sound like a question, but it does.
“Aren’t you wearing your watch?” Jackie asks, a confused smile on her face. Shane flushes.
“Yeah. No. This is, uh, my dad’s watch. It’s fancy, but it doesn’t have any of the metrics I like. And I don’t like wearing two at once. But it was nicer for the socializing at the All-Star game, so…” Lies upon lies upon lies. Too many of them.
“Oh, yeah,” Jackie nods, “I totally get that. I’ll go check for you. One sec!”
She leaves, and then there is nothing but the thundering of Shane’s heart in his chest. His hands shake. Upstairs, he can hear Hayden putting the twins back to sleep.
He reaches for the revolver. Triple checks that none of the bullets are missing, as improbable as that might be.
It’s a beautiful weapon. Gifted to him but his mother when he was sixteen. He has others, guns that would be much better in a fire fight, but this one feels refined. Sophisticated. Everything Akuma’s Yakuza aspires to be. The polished wooden handle is smooth and well-worn. The barrel is engraved with a floral design. The chamber spins smoothly, thanks to years of care. Decades. Shane knows that it must be at least twice his age, and that his mother had won it in a game of poker while she was pregnant with him. It represents everything Yuna wishes he would be.
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Ilya might be a dog person but he's NOT a golden retriever boyfriend.
Ilya is a cat. Ilya makes eye contact with Shane from across the room and slooowly reaches his hand out to knock his expensive skincare products off the counter. Ilya wants attention and wants it now and who cares if Shane's on the phone with his bff? Ilya will hiss and scratch at anyone who hasn't earned his trust but let Shane pet his belly and boop his nose. Ilya will explode the whole house if Shane doesn't pet his hair the second that he wants him to. Ilya was made in a lab just to annoy Shane and be loved by him more than life itself.
the role of the person in the passenger seat is not only navigator but secretary as well. you have to type up the drivers messages to random ladies on facebook about cbd cream & google whether that billy joel song was the theme song for that show or not
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
In December, Shane gets a series of screenshotted messages from his mother and a simple instruction: deal with him.
Some idiotic low level dealer has been stealing, skimming off the top of the product and replacing it with a cheap substitute. It’s given the Akuma brand a bad name. Three people have been hospitalized as a result.
Shane isn’t in charge of anything, at least on paper, and so he shouldn’t have to deal with it. Unfortunately, this sort of problem is only becoming larger in Montreal, though. If Shane handles it, it sends a message.
The man is more of a boy than anything, four limbs tied to a chair in a cold warehouse. Shane trudges in snow from the parking lot on his boots. He walks silently. The traitor can’t be older than he is. It’s no excuse. Nobody can be allowed to think that stealing from Akuma is something you can get through scott free.
Shane doesn’t give a sign that he’s in the room until he’s directly behind the man. A light flickers. Shane cringes. This might be a criminal organization, but they don’t need to lean on cliches to intimidate. He moves fast, two hands cup the man’s face from behind. He couldn’t turn to look at Shane if he tried.
“Don’t move,” Shane whispers roughly, the French slipping off his tongue effortlessly, “don’t even fucking breathe.”
The man stiffens.
Good.
When Shane talks, he drops his voice half an octave, leaning deeper into the Quebecois accent he doesn’t naturally possess. Unrecognizable. A necessity, these days.
“Do you know who I am?” Shane demands. The man lets out a shaky breath, but that’s not a response. “Answer when I speak to you.”
“Yes,” it’s immediate. The man is scared.
“Who am I?” Shane is going to make him say it. That’s an important part of this dance.
“You’re her son, aren’t you? Akuma’s son. I heard rumors, but…”
“Yes.” The man speaks so softly Shane almost misses it.
“Good. Then I don’t have to explain to you how much trouble you’re in.”
The man doesn’t even try to argue, he knows there’s no point. “Are you going to kill me?” he asks.
Shane doesn’t reply. He keeps one hand on the man’s face, and uses his other to reach into his belt and pull out his favourite revolver. It’s not practical, but it is beautiful. He trails the cool metal of the barrel from the man’s temple to his jaw.
“Do you think I should?” he asks. It’s a mind game, and it’s cruel, and Shane doesn’t care. If this man could have just done what he was told, Shane wouldn’t have to be here. He can exact a bit of revenge. The man doesn’t answer, quite literally shaking in fear. “Ask nicely, and I won’t,” Shane offers generously.
A moment passes. The man breathes shakily. Shane doesn’t so much as twitch, the gun resting on the man’s collarbone. “Please.” The man’s voice breaks. Tears slip from his eyes.
Shane removes the gun, stepping away softly. The man doesn’t move. He has learned his lesson.
The heavy metal door clangs shut behind Shane, and he signals to his mother’s lackeys to let the man go. They look at him oddly, but Shane confirms it. If they let this guy go, he’ll tell everyone he knows that it’s true, that Akuma’s son is in Montreal. The message will be clear. Shane is not without mercy, but he does not suffer fools either.
“Williams’ victory feels especially well deserved because Shane Hollander is not an easy character to portray. As we wrote in our review of the series, Williams delivers “a masterclass in micro-expressions and physical restraint.” Shane spends much of the story fighting against himself, suppressing emotions he barely allows himself to acknowledge, and Williams manages to communicate entire emotional arcs through a glance, a tense jaw, or a slight shift in posture. Every crack in Shane’s carefully constructed armor lands with devastating impact because of the work Williams puts in throughout the series.
Seeing that performance recognized on one of Canada’s biggest stages feels incredibly rewarding. Williams’ win is also historic in its own right. At just 25 years old, he became the youngest performer ever to win Best Lead Performer, Drama, at the Canadian Screen Awards, accomplishing the feat on his very first nomination.”
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[...] Shane found himself pushed back from the railing, against a wall. Rozanov’s mouth was pressed hard against his, and his hands gripped his arms roughly, fingers digging into his biceps.
ㅤShane felt panicked. This was super fucking dangerous. And stupid. And confusing. And…
ㅤShane kissed him back, just as angrily. Because fuck this guy for doing shit like this. Hiding away all night on a fucking rooftop, smoking a goddamned cigarette in the dark like the worst cliché of a brooding heartthrob. Making Shane feel bad for winning an award that he completely fucking deserved. And then, on a whim, pressing Shane against a wall and kissing him like he would die without Shane’s mouth on his. Kissing him until Shane’s senses were full of hard muscle pressed against him and the taste of cigarette and the slick heat of Rozanov’s tongue in his mouth.
ㅤWhat the fuck.
To be clear. Shane's whole thing about Ilya being a Sex God is because of the limerence. Ilya is nineteen and he can get a rhythm going and that's about it. He was throwing shit at the wall when he hit that 'Get on your knees' in Nashville but only he knows that because Shane's brain turned OFF. Ilya said "Let's do a little experiment here" and the results were "Oh my god oh my god oh my god." Shane came hands free because he was that obsessed with the idea of Ilya Rozanov being inside him. Ilya said "Do you like that do you like that" because he's nineteen and he needs the validation and Shane was like "YES YES YES I LIKE IT OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO DEEP YOU'RE SO GOOD" and objectively. It was okay. Ilya fully did not know where to put his hands a couple of times. He forgot about Shane's dick. Luckily, Shane is God's special angel who can come from the idea of Ilya's cockhead being in proximity to his prostate a few times. Mind over matter, says Shane Hollander's dick. And then Ilya said "Oh God Hollander" because it was also, objectively, one of the hottest things that had ever happened to HIM, Ilya Rozanov. Shane sits on that step afterwards plotting about how he's gonna get this over and over and over again for the rest of his life and he has no idea that there are women in Boston who have Ilya listed in their contacts as "Hockey Guy 6/10". Shane Hollander cannot fathom a world in which Ilya Rozanov doesn't lay the maddest pipe this side of Lake Michigan. "Ilya Rozanov is a some kind of nineteen year old sex God" No Shane honey he was just designed in a lab to score goals and make you cum and he's done scoring goals for the night.
every time Shane bends over there’s a Non Zero percent chance Ilya will creep up behind him, grab his hips and start fake thrusting and groaning. which should be funny except he’s too good at the noises and Oh Shane is hard now. great. Looks like he’s loading the laundry After they fuck on the counter
The first time Shane and Ilya go to Ottawa pride, Shane doesn't really want to. But Harris has been talking about how its one of his favorite days for weeks and Ilya lights up like a little kid every time it comes up, so Shane is going.
So is Troy, who seems equally enthusiastic, so at least Shane isn't alone.
But he still worries when he sees Ilya all decked out in a rainbow tank top that has to be at least a size too small. He glances down at his own outfit, something he'd wear any other day, and asks,
"should I change?"
Ilya cocks his head and goes "do you want to?"
And Shane doesn't have to answer he very clearly does not want to.
"I just worry that-"
"that people will not know you are gay? I think I can help with that." Ilya smirks and grabs Shane's ass. Shane shoves him away but he's smiling.
They meet Harris and Troy in a parking garage a few blocks from the parade and Shane comes close to laughing because Harris is wearing a flag as a cape and Troy is wearing jeans and a centaurs t shirt.
"see?" Ilya says "you can wear whatever"
"I actually have something for you," Harris says, and hands both Shane and Troy a baseball cap with the terrible centaurs pride logo.
"they were a limited run and they didn't sell well," he explains. Shane gets why. But he likes the hat. It feels manageable.
The parade still doesn't quite feel manageable. He can already hear the crowd, and he knows, just KNOWS that in just a few minutes, for better or worse, all of their attention is going to be directed at HIM. That's where it always ends up.
"Shane?" He hadn't realized he was staring off into space until Ilya brings him back to earth. "We do not have to go"
"you really want to," Shane says.
"yes," Ilya shrugs, "but if you turn this around," he starts to turn Shane's baseball cap backwards, "I won't be able to resist taking you home and fucking you."
"Ilya! This is what does it for you?"
"You do it for me, Hollander"
Shane turns the cap backwards and grabs Ilya's hand. "Let's go see a parade"
"you are trying to kill me?"
"maybe!" Shane laughs.
They all walk down the parking garage stairs and it hits Shane that he's holding Ilya's hand. They're in his hometown, on the streets he grew up on, at a parade he never imagined he'd be able to attend. Ilya is beaming.
"it is not like this in Russia," he says when Shane asks a silent question. "If there was a parade for people like us, it would be called 'Shame,' not Pride." He offers a little laugh at his joke, but there is sadness behind his eyes. Shane kisses him, deep and insistent. Harris cheers. So do a few strangers.
There it is. Recognition. Finally. Shane breaks the kiss preparing himself for the conversation. But it doesn't happen, even when they pull apart and let the strangers see their faces. It's a couple teenagers. Shane wonders if they've ever seen a hockey game. He has to remind himself it's not sad if they haven't.
"saved by the nerds, huh?" Troy says, and Shane nearly chokes laughing.
They find a place to watch the parade and Shane ends up on the end of their row next to another teenager, maybe 16 or so. But he's not a nerd. He sees Shane and his eyes go wide with recognition.
"Shane Hollander?"
Shane nods, and behind him, Ilya leans over to look at the kid, tightening his grip on Shane's hand like he's daring the kid to say something stupid.
"I joined the baseball team," the kid says.
"that's great," Shane says. He's had weirder interactions with fans.
"I came out when I was 13 and kind of thought that meant I would never play sports again? But then we had you and Troy Barret, and I really missed baseball, and I know it's not always going to be easy, but you have it all, you know? Maybe I can too. Probably not, like, professionally because I'm terrible and I want to be a historian but it's really fun and I missed it a lot. So thank you."
Shane stammers for a second. He has a dozen media perfected answers for every possible question but no fucking clue what to say to this kid.
"I was the opposite," Ilya says over his shoulder. "I started playing hockey very young and thought that my sexuality would just stay in a box for the rest of my life. We are the same now though," he says to the kid, "Shane Hollander made me think maybe I could have everything."
"I'm glad you're playing baseball," Shane says around something he doesn't want to talk about in his throat.
"do you want a picture with them?" Harris asks. Shane forgot he was there.
They take a picture with the kid and sign the little flag he's holding and turn back towards the parade.
Ilya puts an arm around Shane's shoulders.
"this is why I wanted to come," he says. "I like these fans."
Shane does too.
He also doesn't mind knowing he's with the hottest person here. When the parade starts, Ilya dances along to the music. Shane lets himself get pulled into it, lets himself laugh when Ilya lifts up their arms to spin around, lets himself just be.
They go home having signed more autographs and taken more photos, but it didn't make Shane tired like it usually does. He thinks it's because he never stopped being himself to sign them. He didn't have to pause his personal life and stuff it down. These people were excited for all of him. Even the gay part. Hell, maybe ESPECIALLY the gay part.
Ilya kisses the back of his hand as he drives. "Now, we have to do something about that hat," he purrs.
"what are you going to do about it?" Shane smirks
"Shane! I will die before I can get home to fuck you if you keep teasing like this!"
Shane had been worried. But it turned out to be a pretty great day.
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with how deeply physical their bond is, i don't think that hollanov ever bothered to develop a safeword. i do think, though, that they developed-- by accident!-- a physical system to tell each other how they are feeling. and it definitely bleeds into their life outside the bedroom, and it's definitely subconscious at this point, and it definitely makes it into the locker room and onto the ice by the time they're both in ottawa.
which means maybe the centaurs have picked up on the fact that hey, sometimes when shane wants ilya to stop doing something, he taps his arm twice. or if ilya wants shane to move one way, he taps him three times. or if he just wants his attention, its a squeeze. which is all relatively normal, and they probably think its cute that they have an unspoken language for communicating with one another.
and then maybe-- by accident!-- it starts taking root as a thing, and then mindlessly troy or wyatt or bood accidentally double pats shane's arm to get him to stop talking to ilya for a moment, and shane thinks for a moment, that was a weird coincidence, and moves on. but then it happens again, and then maybe luca squeezes his arm to get his attention and then bood taps him three times to get him to move aside so he can walk past and shane feels himself flush to the ears and catches ilya's eyes across the room and ilya definitely noticed that too. so now what? they can't full well ask them to stop without saying, hey, so this was a sex thing. but it'd be weird to let it continue... right?
ilya telling shane about irina and how they were best friends and he hung out with her all the time and he was her protector and he would skip school on her bad days to brush her hair and make sure she ate something even if it was just tea and she was an angel and you know shane is calculating how best to gently bring up to his husband that that doesn’t sound like it was very fair to child ilya without ilya reacting like a wild fucking animal
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