So yeah now that the sun has turned and a new solar year has begun I've come to a decision. If you never reblog but oly like in my notivs I will remove you. No hard feelings but this is the reblog site, we are each others stars don't you know? Reblogs are the reason why follower counts do not matter, you can have one person following but if they reblog your post and only one of their followers reblogs and so on that post can reach more people than any artificial follower count out there.
You don't want to spam your dash every time you log in? Queue is my best friend and can be yours.
That post is so old? And? One of my all time favorite posts is from 2014/15 I think (releases pack of dads into home depot), and I love every time it crosses my dash again because someone reblogged it and I get to see new additions to the fun of correct crafter taxonomy (invasive species bride-to-be my beloved).
THIS IS THE REBLOG SITE, you do not take anything away from the OP by reblogging their stuff (except their sanity, if there is any left), reblogging is not reposting, reblogging is running up to all the people who follow you and yelling "this is so cool have you seen that?" so that they can run to their peeps and show them. Any yes that means that sometimes you see the same thing 8975 times in a row but that is a feature not a bug, not something to avoid, that means that shit is so good that you should see it again and again and again. That is the difference between community and consumption. As someone said about Goncharov it's not funny it's fun. It's not a thing to be consumed and forgotten the next second, but something to join in and be it just by reblogging.
So yeah, I don't have that many followers since this is a fairly new blog(not my first probably not the last) so it probably won't matter, but if you, like me, hate seeing posts where the likes outnumber the rebloggs, maybe consider doing the same, we can only keep this community if we are willing to fight for it.
Listen- do you guys understand that Shane gets so comfy with Ilya that he starts to fidget and soothe with Ilya’s body. And like- he doesn’t even realise it half the time, it’s like his only little stims and subconscious movements he’s always done. Like how he rubs his feet together in small circles as he drifts to sleep, or taps his fingertips to his collarbones or presses the heel of his palm between his pecks when the locker room gets too loud, too much, how he presses his lips together, rolls them outward over and over as he reads, brushes the pad of his thumb across his Cupid’s bow as he sits scrolling through his phone. Or the more subtle ones, tapping his big toes up and down inside his shoes during interviews.
Anyway- all that to say when Ilya and Shane have been in love for a little while when Ilya’s body starts to kinda feel like an extension of Shane’s (maybe a short while before they fell in love too, but that he never really let himself think much into at all). And with this comes the gentle fidgeting, Ilya’s curls twisted in and through his fingers over and over and over. The edge of Ilya’s jumper, or the soft warm skin of his earlobe between Shane’s thumb and finger, rubbing slow circles over and over. Pushing his toes against the muscle of Ilya’s thigh, or his toes in rhythmic pulses. Shane’s folding his fingers of Ilya’s longer ones, opening and closing their hands together, presses the pads of his fingers down against the blunt press of his nails. The small motion of the rub is his cheek the very slight in and up nuzzling motion when they are cuddled up, against the shirts and jumpers and sweat pants of Ilya’s he likes most (over time more and more of them seem to become that lovely soft worn fabric that Shane enjoys most).
And it’s that too, resting his head in Ilya’s lap, slow deep breaths and running his lips against the seam of Ilya’s sweats, boxers (that turns into the other comfort too, Ilya’s cock in his mouth soft and warm and full for him, heavy on his tongue, something to let his mouth get wet and swallow around. His hand in Ilya’s treasure trail, pubic hair, fingers scratching through it, the extra soft downy hair that lives there. Sometimes when Shane’s body can find any of its other ways to push out its shuddering discomfort, energy that feedback loops from his toes to his scalp to his eyelids so over sensitive and shaking apart a little- nothing else pushes it out but Ilya inside him, keeping him stretched and open and full, Shane facing Ilya, bodies tangled, his thigh hitched over top of Ilya’s and barely there rocks of his hips, too small to do much but smooth out some of Shane’s buzzing between them both, and Ilya lets him spread it till it’s all gone, all lovely and syrupy and stretched out and out out out of Shane’s body, finally quiet and grounded.)
The first one that Ilya even mentions to him out loud, is the biting, it’s Ilya’s suggestion really- his fingers gentle easing Shane’s bottom lip out of the grip of his own teeth with a soft tut, pad of his thumb pressed gentle to the center. “No Zaychick” and he’ll push his thumb into Shane’s mouth instead, or offer his mouth, grumble into Shane’s mouth to “bite Zaychick” in the sweetest soft tone. Sometimes, when they don’t have to worry about the marks he’ll pull him to his thighs or hips or chest or neck and instruct the same.
they're laying in ilya's bed post-fuck, shane all cuddled into ilya's side warm and sticky and pliant....(they're falling in love but they don't know it yet).....and ilya begins his usual routine, reaches over to his nightstand and lights a cig. and shane cuddles in a little closer, wrinkling his nose with a groan, burying it in ilya's skin to avoid the cig smell. and ilya just chuckles and brings it to his mouth, takes a puff, ruffles shane's hair.
"i really just don't see the appeal," his voice is muffled against ilya's pec, "it smells, it makes your teeth yellow, it messes up your fingernails, it can give you lung c-"
"and it tastes so fucking good after sex," ilya interrupts, and shane watches as he holds the smoke in for a brief moment before expending it from the corner of his mouth, angled away from shane - polite.
"there's just no fucking way," shane turns his head a bit, "you're just addicted to it so it tastes good to you now."
"same difference," ilya takes another puff, smiling down at shane's frown, "you want to try?"
"a cigarette? are you joking?" shane sits up incredulously, brow furrowed, "no, i like being in peak athletic form, thank you very much."
ilya rolls his eyes, reaching over to tap the tip of his cig against the ash tray at his bedside, "one cigarette is not going to do anything, hollander," he says matter-of-factly, "and i am also in peak athletic form by the way, if you had not noticed."
shane scoffs, "that's what you think. who knows what your performance would be like if you weren't inhaling those death sticks every hour of every day."
"is not that much."
"coulda fooled me."
ilya raises an eyebrow, "hollander, you're not actually mad about this are you? i will not force you to smoke a cigarette. you are fine."
"i know," shane grumbles, beginning to ease off the bed, eyes searching for his underwear discarded somewhere on the floor, "i just think you're being stupid, that's all."
"oh, that's all?" sardonic as always, ilya takes another puff, this time not bothering to exhale in the opposite direction. smoke trails past his lips and hovers over the center of the bed between the two of them.
shane stares. "seriously, what's the appeal? what was ever the appeal, before you started?"
ilya shrugs, lips downturned, "i don't know. is what everyone was doing. my friends, my brother. just seemed like normal thing."
"how old were you? when you had your first one?"
"twelve."
shane blinks. once, twice. his brow furrows even more, which ilya didn't think was possible. "you were twelve years old when you started smoking," he states.
another shrug, "was normal."
"that's crazy, rozanov," shane is staring at the cigarette now, and ilya sees something in his eyes that he can't place. he looks focused and yet far away, like he's trying to reconcile something in his mind.
"why? because i was having fun while you were watching mickey mouse?"
"because you- your body should not be in the condition it's in if it's been over ten years since you started. that doesn't make any sense. i don't think i've ever even heard you cough." shane seems to be spiraling a little, and ilya's not really sure why.
"why does it matter?" he asks with another shrug, "i am healthy, so no big deal."
"but it won't always be that way," shane is still halfway off the bed, one leg next to ilya's under the sheets while the other rests naked on the edge, like he's not sure if he wants to get up or stay seated, "it'll catch up to you eventually, it always does."
another shrug, "then i will quit."
"just like that? easy?"
"easy."
shane shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips, "you're unbelievable."
"thank you," ilya grins and taps the cig again, "and the offer still stands."
"...offer?"
"if you want to try, just ask."
shane breathes out through his nose, part laugh part huff, and finally pulls himself out of the bed. ilya watches, cigarette in hand, as shane nakedly crosses the room to pick up his briefs.
"no shower?" ilya asks; it's not a tease.
"nah, i promised hayden i'd get dinner with him and some of the guys at four," shane tugs his underwear on, "and if we get a shower i'm gonna end up blowing you." ilya doesn't think he'll ever be over the nonchalance of shane hollander saying things like blowing you in his bedroom at three o'clock on a weekday. he twitches under the sheets.
"are you sure? can be quick."
shane laughs, grin wide and beautiful as he reaches for his t-shirt, "we can not be quick. you know that." and the crazy thing is, ilya does know that. because this has been going on for so long now that they just know these things. shane just knows he'll want to take his time with ilya's cock, he knows he'll be on his knees in the shower until his skin gets wrinkly and uncomfortable, he knows ilya will want to return the favor as soon as he's done.
ilya sniffs, the scent of smoke beginning to permeate throughout the room. he watches shane tug on his sweatpants. "tell hayden i said hi."
shane rolls his eyes, walking back over to the bed to grab his phone from the other nightstand. he unlocks it and skims his notifications briefly before stuffing it in his pocket and turning his attention back to ilya.
"two weeks?" he asks, a confirmation.
"two weeks," ilya echoes back with a nod, "c'mere."
shane flushes a little, ilya's favorite thing, and then he's kneeling on the bed to press a soft kiss to ilya's lips, eyelashes fanning gorgeously over his freckled cheeks. ilya kisses back with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, fingers tightening on the cig so it doesn't drop.
"you taste like smoke," shane mumbles against ilya's lips, but he doesn't pull away. instead he deepens the kiss a little, hand coming up to cup ilya's face tenderly.
"you like it," ilya murmurs, slipping his tongue into shane's mouth. shane groans a little, breath shaky, pulls away to peer down at ilya hazily. ilya nudges his nose against shane's, chasing his lips, "admit it."
"mmm..." shane's response is soft, light, thumb stroking the apple of ilya's cheek as they continue to kiss unhurriedly, like suddenly they have all the time in the world. ilya brings his hand up, cigarette still burning between his fingers, and holds it in front of his face, in front of shane's.
"you want to taste it, hollander?" he asks, voice low and hushed, "i won't tell."
shane's eyes are lidded and droopy, gaze falling to the cigarette growing smaller the longer he dawdles. he does seem to be thinking about it, and ilya figures he'll make the decision for him before he chickens out.
"come here," he murmurs, bringing the cig to his lips and his other hand to the back of shane's head. he cradles it, fingers scratching through shane's dark hair as he takes a slow puff. he uses his pinkie finger to tap shane's bottom lip.
shane doesn't move away, doesn't say no. instead, he closes his eyes and ilya watches as he opens his mouth. just enough to kiss. just enough for ilya to lean in and softly press their lips together. for him to carefully blow the exhaled smoke into shane's mouth. shane's eyelashes flutter, nose crinkling a bit - but he doesn't cough. he breathes slowly, precisely, like he somehow knows exactly what to do, inhaling obediently, taking it all into his throat and his athletic lungs.
"good?" ilya murmurs when he pulls away, and shane slowly opens his eyes. he's going to that place again, ilya can tell. that place ilya takes him so often. soft. docile. pliant.
"mhm," shane nods, blinking slowly. he's looking at ilya's lips.
"let's shower," ilya says softly, reaching behind him to press the remainder of the cigarette into the ashtray, dropping it from his fingers. he turns back to shane and strokes his cheek gently, thumbing his freckles, "hm? don't go yet." he's not usually this needy. or this obvious. but shane needs him now, they both know it.
"okay," shane mumbles, and a small tendril of smoke slips past his lips alongside the word.
thinking about shane i’ve been dreaming about it since i was a kid/ this is real though right? hollander who has a deeply unrelatable set of life circumstances constantly bouncing his reality off of the one person who might Get It in the hope that it will come back to him in a way that makes sense and ilya is everything you dreamed of?/ then maybe it’s time to wake up, yes? rozanov catching it every time and taking shane out of his head and putting him into his body and making things real for him for the better part of a decade
They move in together full time and Ilya notices that Anya acts differently with Shane than she does with him, more quiet and less playful, and he worries that means she doesn’t like Shane or is jealous, so he hires a dog trainer to come over and see if there’s anything they need to do to help
After a while of talking about how Anya acts the trainer says there’s nothing to worry about, Anya likes Shane just fine, it’s just that she sees him as the boss and is acting accordingly
And Ilya is like. But. I’m the one who adopted her? And raised her before Shane got here?? And the trainer is just like yeah well she sees you more like an equal. And Ilya is like WAIT she thinks Shane is in charge of both of us?? And the trainer is just like well do you interact in a way that would make her think that?
Ilya’s life flashes before his eyes as he thinks of all the times Shane has come over with a snack for Ilya and a treat for Anya, or all the times Shane has announced they’re all going for an after dinner walk, or pets Ilya’s hair and tells him he did a good job at practice, or the fact that he uses the same warning tone with Anya when she misbehaves as he does with Ilya when he’s causing problems on purpose
Shane comes home to Ilya with his face in his hands going oh god I’m not Anya’s dad I’m her brother and she thinks we’re both your pets. And Shane just goes. What.
I don't even bother hardly to orrect my typos anymore. It is just affirmation that these words were typed by the hands of human being and not extruded by a fucnking AI
one of my professors was like (paraphrasing) "AI makes you sound the same as everybody else. The idea of a single "correct" English is racist and flattens the diversity of people. I don't care about grammar outside of the writing being understandable. I want to hear YOUR voice, Your dialect the unique way you communicate."
I have been more appreciative of the rough edges of human communication since chatGPT came to be. The misspellings and turns of phrase that real people produce.
The inherently flawed nature of an alive thing vs. the empty perfection of something that never had life in it at all
fandom hag @articulatedhorrors - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
