She/her pronouns, biromantic asexual. I'm apparently a 911 blog now, but you may also see Nimona, Merlin, Leverage, The Raven Cycle, All For the Game, the Tarot Sequence, Hands of the Emperor and associated media, and The Untamed.
I am on AO3 as alisonlynn
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The first rule of fandom is have fun. The second rule of fandom is find an enabler and become an enabler. Yes you should write that fic. What if it was even hornier? What if it was angstier? What if you wrote it just for me?
Ilya's and Shane's first commercial together as husbands
After getting involuntary outed, Shane loses a few endorsement deals. He doesn't really notice at first; of course Yuna told him, but he had way bigger things to worry about than doing fragrance commercial shots, thank you very much.
Ilya and he get married, they honeymoon in Ibiza, they do their hockey camp, Shane signs a deal with Ottawa. The dust settles a bit. Only then he realises that he didn't do an underwear commercial for Manmade, like every summer. And Yuna hasn't pestered him about Reebok for a while.
Shane doesn't really care, he always hated doing these adds and honestly, he made enough money to live comfortable for the rest of his life, so it's whatever.
But...but it's not whatever. Shane does care. It stings. He hates that it still feels like getting punished just for being who he is.
A luxury fragrance brand calls of a deal and at Yuna's inquiry they let Shane know that it doesn't have to do with Shane's sexual orientation (well, because that would be downright illegal to admit but okay), but rather that they don't see how their quite luxury concept and his boulevard paper, attention seeking lifestyle fit together. In other words, the shit show around their coming out was to messy for their liking. Another thing Shane is innocent of, another thing he gets punished for.
Fuck them, Ilya and Yuna say in unison and Shane has to smile again. Seriously. Fuck these companies. He's got everything he needs, everything he wants is just right here. Minus an additional Stanley Cup or two.
Ilya didn't do as many commercials as Shane did, but he lost a deal with Bugatti as well ("Thank fuck I sold that car before I came to Ottawa").
Still, Shane is getting more and more worried, which brands might want to let go of them next. Who really is to trust in that political climate? Which clothes will feel shitty on his skin, knowing the people behind them hate people like Ilya and him? Will they be ostracised forever?
He just waits for the call of Speedo or Under Armour, telling him that they don't want a gay man presenting his package on big billboards.
A few weeks pass, the season starts and Shane really can't worry about endorsement deals right now. He is even more annoyed, when Yuna tells him that there is this marketing guy who wants to talk to Shane directly, but he caves in after the third reminder.
The call leaves Shand actually a bit lightheaded, smiling brightly even. The money is decent but thst absolutely doesn't matter. What does matter was that Ilya and he had to extend their stay in Toronto after their next game.
When Shane tells Ilya about their appointment soon, they both start to laugh, and maybe there are a few tears hidden in it.
A few weeks later, after an easy win against Toronto, they enter the Varsity Arena, hand in hand, more than ready for their second CCM commercial shot together.
The producer Kim greats them enthusiastically, talking about the poetic beauty of doing another shot with the two best hockey players together over ten years after their iconic pre-rookie season shot. Kim quickly explains the concept behind their commercial: They want to fuse old footage and new shots together, emphasing the development of their skills on the ice. "From rivals to husbands. From rookies to legends. Always supported by CCM. With us players become champions."
Shane and Ilya almost burst into giggles again thinking about how supportive CCM, or more likey the showers in this Arena, had been on their way to become husbands indeed.
It is the most fun they both ever had while shooting. Skating as fast as they can, showing of their almost telepathic dream passes, chirping and then battling for the puck, trick shots on the net, celebrating each other's goals.
They let themselves be filmed while trying out every piece of equipment, give comments on different stick flexibilities, show their taping techniques (and teasing each other obviously).
Ilya grows suspicious how patient Shane is with commercial shot, how willingly he is to pose for pictures, participates in games for social media clips. He nudges Shane and raises one eyebrow, that is question enough.
"CCM launches that campaign everywhere. Instagram. TV spots. Catalogues. In the stores. At games." Shane smiles smugly. "A queer couple, the face of one of the top hockey equipment brands. Almost every hockey player, from amateur to pro, will see us, one way or another."
"Even in Montreal."
"Even in Montreal", Shane agrees and Ilya
Ilya laughes fondly, he loves when Shane is a menace.
Kim calls it a day, shakes their hands and thanks them for all the amazing footage they got and politely suggest they hit the showers.
They turn towards the lockerroom and Shane blushes. "Maybe you should go shower first. Considering.... well and I should check...this thing."
"What, are you afraid you can't keep your hands to yourself, Hollander?"
"I'm more afraid you do keep your hands to yourself, Rozanov," Shane winks but he stops at the door in safe distance. "Maybe I go call Mom that the day went well and CCM is actually a good partner."
"Is nice of them, hire us both. Tell Yuna thanks for getting me on the deal, too."
"Oh no. It was my idea."
"What?"
Shane's cheek turn several shades more pink but holds Ilya's gaze. "I told them that I'd only do the commercial together with you."
Ilya fixes Shane with a penetrating stare as he saunters over to him dangerously slow. "Now you will definitely come to the shower with me."
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in the past i've described my experience of being an ace with a sex drive as being hungry with no appetite, but actually my experience is more like being hungry and never going out to eat because i always have all the tools and ingredients to make exactly what i want, exactly how i want it, at home. i don't want other people in my kitchen and i certainly don't want to be in anyone else's kitchen. love reading about fictional kitchens, though.
i think ilya lays on shane’s lap a lot more than shane lays on ilyas lap because ilyas stomach always sounds like someone threw rocks in the dryer and set it on high and shane just constantly sits back up to ask if he’s okay
before having a baby, I thought it sucked that babies took so long to turn into interesting people. "good for people who like babies but I'm not one of them. I want a child who can tell me her theories. etc"
but now I have a baby I feel no hurry at all?? she's great as she is
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“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters with amusement. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
i beat myself up for not knowing enough about my special interests a lot but then i remember the average person off the street has no idea what the carboniferous is and i feel better
Where's the goalie Shane/forward Ilya post?? I'm thinking about immovable object/unstoppable force couple and how it would drive Ilya fucking NUTS to have all his momentum and showy goals just fucking stopped dead in the water by goalie!Shane who doesn't even have the damn decency to do a little mocking celly about it, he just fucking kills Ilya's beautiful goal and then just goes about his business. Ohhh I know it would set Ilya on FIRE with fury I know he's gnashing his teeth and breaking fucking sticks when Shane just assassinates a beautiful play.
I also know they would be fucking nasty about it afterwards. Obviously.
For consideration: goalie Shane who is so skilled, so in tune with the game, so meticulous & he has memorized all of the habits and tells and special moves for all of the league's starting forwards to the point that he's almost seeing each shot before it happens and he's already there to block it. And ofc this infuriates Ilya. He's THE star forward, he leads the league in points year after year, and he still cant score on Hollander. So he starts getting creative. Shane didn't even realize he had been starting to get.... not bored, never bored of hockey, but. Something like that, maybe, a little... until Ilya, absolutely determined to score on Shane, starts putting in extra hours cooking up ways to surprise Hollander. The first time Rozanov manages a shot that takes Shane completely by surprise, he's a little bit delighted (and a lot angry that his shutout streak was broken)
give me a fic where Scott hunter coming out is going shit. yeah there was an initial wave of support, but that quickly dies down and now he's being hounded on by all sides, management, social media, team members.
Hollanov fresh from the cottage and now believing in The Power Of Love TM wrangle every ounce of power they have to support hunter, getting better lawyers, punching bigots, endorsing him publicly.
But the funny thing is that the entire time, hollanov thinks they came out to him. Scott is clueless. he just thinks that they want everything to get fixed and get back to the good hockey(ilya is still in Boston, shane is not out yet, they can be seen in public because they are endorsing Scott hunter).
long story short he is suprised to receive a wedding invitation, and thinks it's a prank for at least the first hour of the event.
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Phm from Adrian's perspective is just what if you were Penelope and Odysseus came home but he also brought a jellyfish and keeps begging you to build a fish tank for the jellyfish and make jellyfish food for the jellyfish and youre an ancient Greek whos never seen a jellyfish and you cant even comprehend how your going to do it but youre going to because if you dont Odysseus may kill himself. And also the jellyfish can do like. Witchcraft.
origamiaround
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
jacobvanloon
dededos
