we get together, we fuck, is simple

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇ . ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇ ˚.✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇ . ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇ ˚.✦.˳·˖✶

bradley "rooster" bradshaw/jake "hangman" seresin || 2.7k || T

Usually, Bradley was better at shoving these feelings down. That didn't mean that they wouldn't ever creep up on him from time to time. A flash of warm skin beneath his hands here, soft murmurs over a table set for two there, a broken hand and a twisted knife and all the nasty truths that he, regrettably, would accept if it meant that he had the sweeter parts back. Jake's in rare form tonight, chattering over a game of darts, winning without trying but reeling in the signature smarmy attitude. Coyote stands at his side and laughs at something he’s said. Jealousy simmers in Bradley's gut and spreads through his chest; nobody but him should know that Jake is funny, even when he’s not making his jokes at someone else's expense. Those softer sides should be all his own to know and hoard.

I saw someone say that they need to make it clear that Shane’s getting bullied on the Mets and that’s why he lashes out at Ilya but like. What if he isn’t. What if he lashes out at Ilya because Ilya’s asking him for something off script, and getting pissy with him, and Shane doesn’t know why, and he just wanted to have a nice day, and the last time he went over to Ilya’s the whole place smelled like weed, and they haven’t talked about hockey in months, and Shane knows from experience how to hit people where they hurt. And maybe he gets a little thrill doing that.

and when shane inevitably starts pushing his hips into ilya's hand, whispering "fuck me, please. please please fuck me. ilya" ilya will shake his head and hold shane tighter and say "I want to watch you" and shane will shiver all over and close his eyes, overwhelmed. he'll let ilya have it. let him just see. the flush that draws to the surface of his skin. the furrow of his brow that makes it look like there's nothing more serious in the world than his pleasure—which ilya believes, wholeheartedly. the wet, warm cave of his mouth as he pants and moans. occasionally, when ilya can bring himself to look down and away from shane's face: the appearance and disappearance of ilya's shiny fingers from and into shane's body, between his strong parted thighs, below his swollen beating cock.

but always always ilya will look up when shane is coming. shane's face in the moments he knows nothing but pleasure is the most beautiful sight in the world to ilya.

We're so excited to announce that the first Hollanov Writers Camp will run from August 1st–7th!

Week One Concept: Canon Divergence

Day One – What if Shane hadn’t introduced himself to Ilya in Saskatchewan?

Day Two – What if Rose didn't break up Shane?

Day Three – What if Ilya really wanted to go through with his plan to marry Svetlana?

Day Four – What if only one of them got outed first?

Day Five – What if Shane came out publicly after breaking up with Rose?

Day Six – What if the proposal went wrong?

Day Seven – What if Shane didn't know if Ilya was okay after the almost plane crash?

We can't wait to write with all of you. 🫶 FAQ | AO3 collection

Hi! We're mareastralis and AkirasStories and we've been writing fanfiction for quite a while now. We're huge fans of Heated Rivalry (both the books and the TV adaptation) and, of course, we love writing Hollanov ourselves.

As the fandom has grown so quickly over the past months, we've noticed that it can sometimes feel surprisingly lonely to be a writer. There are so many talented people creating amazing stories, but not always many opportunities to connect with one another.

We've also noticed that, as the fandom keeps growing, fanfiction can sometimes start to feel more about consumption than community. It's easy to scroll, read, move on, or forget that there's a real person behind every story who spent hours, days, or even months creating it. At the same time, online spaces can sometimes become unnecessarily harsh, and that's the opposite of the environment we want to foster.

We want this event to be rooted in kindness. We want people to leave comments because they genuinely enjoyed something, encourage writers who are just starting out, celebrate each other's successes and remember that fandom thrives because people choose to create and support one another. We believe that a little kindness goes a long way, and we hope this camp can be a small reminder of that.

Strating in August, we'll post one main concept and seven daily prompts. You can write for one day, several days, or all seven—whatever fits your schedule and inspires you. Whether you write 500 words or 50,000, you're welcome here. If people enjoy the event, we'd absolutely love to keep it going and turn it into something we can all look forward to regularly.

More than anything, though, we hope this becomes a place for community.

We want writers to cheer each other on, leave comments, celebrate every finished fic, brainstorm together, ask for advice, share headcanons and simply have fun creating again.

With AI-generated writing becoming more common, we also wanted to create a space that celebrates human creativity. We're proudly anti-AI when it comes to fanfiction. We believe writing is about imagination, growth, collaboration and finding your own voice—not replacing it. Everyone starts somewhere, and we hope this can be a place where writers of every experience level can learn from one another, improve together, and feel supported.

We'd also love to help people connect! If you're looking for a beta reader, would like to beta for someone else, or just want a writing buddy to bounce ideas off, let us know! Send us an ask or leave a comment and we'll do our best to help match people up.

This event isn't about writing the "best" fic. It's about building friendships, encouraging each other, and remembering why we fell in love with writing in the first place.

We're so excited to see what everyone creates.

What I’m pushing back against is how intensely personal and parasocial this fandom is towards Rachel Reid. Instead of “I don’t like how the issues of eating disorders are portrayed in TLG” it’s “RACHEL REID HATES SHANE AND HATES PEOPLE WITH EATING DISORDERS”

10-pause-10-pause-10-long pause, lean down to kiss-10-pause-10-pause-10.

"Is your blanket warm enough? I'll go get another one."

"I will carry plates, go sit."

"Practice is optional for players, Shane, not captain."

And, look, Shane isn't one to lay about. He's up for morning runs, he attends almost every optional practice, he's meticulous about his work out routines. He's a top athlete and so is Ilya, they both work incredibly hard to stay at the top. Still, Shane doesn't have a problem with a lazy afternoon reading in bed, or a free weekend spent at his cottage, or a summer relaxing.

He notices that sometimes Ilya will startle, just a little bit, if Shane walks into the room when he's laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone. If Shane makes even the slightest request, Ilya is jumping to get it done there and then. He's the first one at practice and the last one to leave.

He will take naps with Shane, but he's always up before Shane, working out in the gym, doing their monthly calendar, adding things Shane likes to their shopping list that he wouldn't add, etc.

"Just sit with me," Shane catches Ilya's arm on his latest trip to the kitchen."

"I know, I will," Ilya covers his hand. "I just want to wipe down counters before your parents get here."

"They won't care," Shane scrunches up his face. "They won't even notice. Come sit down."

"Okay," Ilya says, but looks a little torn. "We are suppose to be hosting, not lazing around."

"Ilya," Shane sat up more. "You cleaned the whole house like twice today. I cooked. We aren't lazing around."

"Yes, I know, but..."

"Ilya, you aren't lazy," Shane said directly. He doesn't know exactly why that word seems difficult for Ilya, but he has his suspicions. "And even if you were lazy sometimes, I wouldn't care. I would like it, probably."

Ilya softened. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Shane tugs him and Ilya finally lets himself be pulled into Shane's lap. "Just come be lazy with me."