every me and every you

sophie, she/they, english isn’t my first language

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Hi, guys! I'm just starting to learn Italian and I'd like to find someone interested in learning or maybe someone who wouldn't mind communicating in Italian so that I could improve my skills. I'll be glad if anyone responds. My level is almost 0.

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She had never wanted him. She already had one child – her beloved, longed-for son. Can you even imagine what it’s like to raise a child alone? It’s so hard. Her husband is always at work; she has to keep herself, the house, and the child clean and tidy, so that no one thinks she’s a dirty slob who can’t cope. Vernon must always be fed and sent off to work in an ironed shirt and trousers. The large expenses required for the child eat away at the already modest budget her husband brings home from work. And then there he is – the son of her crazy sister, with no documents to his name, no insurance that could cover the cost of his medical care.

That cold November morning, a frozen, starving one-year-old child simply did not fit into her plans. Thank goodness her own son was still nursing. Harry was semi-conscious; his little hands, clenched into fists, wouldn’t even open – they were that icy cold. All he could do was sniffle pitifully and try to smack his lips, hoping for some milk. The baby latched onto her nipple with all eight of his teeth, which had already come in and sucked greedily, trying to get more, afraid that the food would be taken away again. That was the first time Petunia wept bitterly over a trembling child’s body – a child who had lost his mother and didn’t even understand that she would never, ever come back. She was crying for him, she told herself. Because he didn’t understand – but she did. She had never wanted him, but she had him now, and she would have to do something about it.

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Shane's eating disorder is something that needs to be talked about more and louder.

Orthorexia is a major issue that a lot of professional athletes face.

Shane wanted to be perfect and play hockey for much longer, forgetting about himself, perceiving himself and his body solely as a tool - something that just needs nutrients, not pleasure.

«I eat healthy carbs»

«You eat nothing»

«Shane was dying for a slice of Ilya’s greasy, sausage covered dinner, but he dutifully ate his salmon and garden salad»

«I don’t want a cookie. It was a lie. It was a fucking lie»

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gay jesus you know

[karmacharmeleon18]

Underrated ep 5 moment:

Yuna can't stop looking at the tv, wondering what this moment might mean for the hockey world

David looks at Shane... wondering what this moment might mean for his son?

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yuna is mostly a mamager and david is so worried of his baby boy

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Ilya: Hey, just got out of the meeting. I’m exhausted. Can’t wait to see you. love you <3

Shane: (stares at the screen)

Shane💭 : Wait... "love you less than three"? Days? Hours? Times?

Shane: Why would you love me less than three of something? What is the unit of measurement here?

Ilya: Shane. It’s a heart.

Shane: Oh. oh

Shane: Right.

Shane: Cool. Cool, cool, cool. love you too <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shane: Hayden. Did you know that <3 is a heart?

Hayden: ...Yes?

Hayden: Did you just find that out?

Shane: Just checking.

Hayden: You're impossible.

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While everyone’s out here saying Ilya is the alpha and Shane is the omega, I’m screaming that Ilya is actually a dominant omega who chewed his way to fame by straight-up rejecting omega stereotypes in Russia and in a sports world filled with nothing but alphas.

Ilya didn’t survive by softness. He survived by control. By learning how to take every expectation placed on omegas - fragile, needy, ruled by instinct and grinding it into something sharp enough to protect himself with. His dominance was never about overpowering others; it was about ownership of himself in a system that constantly tried to define him first.

And Shane? Shane is a submissive alpha who doesn’t want the responsibility that comes with his status. He just wants clear rules and someone else calling the shots not because he’s weak, but because with Ilya he finally doesn’t have to perform strength every second of the day. Around Ilya, he can rest.

Shane has never tried to claim space Ilya wasn’t ready to give. He stays beneath him, literally and metaphorically, for as long as it takes for trust to exist, for safety to be real. Not as submission born from weakness, but as a choice.

That’s why, for a long time, Shane is always the bottom. Not as a role forced on him, but as something chosen carefully between them. Their balance exists on Ilya’s terms, because Shane understands exactly how much trust that already requires.

Shane has never once suggested spending a heat together. He knows it would be too much for Ilya too vulnerable, too close to every stereotype Ilya has spent his entire life fighting against. So Shane takes suppressants without discussion, quietly, consistently, treating it as the easiest decision in the world.

And then one day, when they are already undeniably a pair, Ilya’s heat begins unexpectedly. But Ilya never asks him to stay, so Shane leaves. The omega part of Ilya hates him for that, hates that he didn’t make the decision for him when instinct was loud and pride was fragile. But Ilya himself understands exactly what Shane did. He understands that leaving was just for him. That it was respect so absolute it hurt. And he is fiercely, painfully grateful for it.

Maybe, someday Ilya will feel safe enough inside his own body to share everything with Shane, not just control and strength, but vulnerability too. Someday he might let himself be held without feeling reduced by it. Someday he might even be able to give alpha the same surrender Shane has always offered him.

Someday he might let himself be vulnerable without hearing the echo of every ugly stereotype about desperate, needy omegas carved into his mind. Someday he might even allow himself to give up control completely, to be soft, to trust Shane enough to bottom him without fear.

And maybe far in the future, when choice replaces fear completely they might even build a family with baby together. Children carried by Ilya, not as proof of what he is supposed to be, but as something chosen freely, on his own terms.

Mic drop.

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ilya had never even liked hockey. his mother loved it, and he went into the sport for her. every victory he dedicated to her and that never changed, even after she died. hockey, a cross and a worn-out photograph of his smiling mom were the only things he had left of her.

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ilya smoked his first cigarette after his mother's funeral, feeling the most lonely on the planet

ilya smoked his last cigarette after the wedding, finding a family again

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Dementia runs in the family, which means Ilya’s chances of facing memory problems in old age are painfully high - especially considering that hockey players so often suffer head injuries*.

At some point, Shane could shift from being the closest person in Ilya’s life to becoming, in his eyes, public enemy number one - the man Ilya believes is trying to force him out of his own home, trying to harm him, plotting against him. None of it would be true. But to a mind ravaged by illness, that version of reality would feel absolute.

There would be moments brief and fragile, when it seemed as though everything had returned to normal, when Shane had his husband back. Yet those flashes of clarity would grow rarer, shorter, slipping through his fingers like water.

And Shane would have to stand there and watch the man he loves slowly disappear.

*it’s possible that ilya will start developing dementia even before he gets old

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at this moment I’m writing hollanov venom au. it’s very complicated for me cuz it’s my biggest work and I’m afraid of lot motivation, but I’m in the middle of the text rn and my friends make sure I finish writing

#shane is symbiote and ilya need money so he exchanges his body freedom for a good meal

this is my fav parts:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fast food is not suitable nutrition for the recovery period and metabolic normalization. Your current condition requires…”

“I want to eat,” Ilya interrupted, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. He spoke in a whisper, furious and strained. “Do you hear me? I want to eat.”

“I understand. Your blood glucose level has dropped. Hunger is a signal, but not a guide to action. Two blocks away there is an organic food store. We will buy ingredients for a nutritious smoothie and steamed chicken breast.”

“A smoothie? The hell?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What did you do?” he asked hoarsely, almost in a whisper.

The answer came quickly and sounded like a line from a maintenance report.

“Nothing beyond standard protocols. During sleep, microcirculation was normalized, chronic muscle spasms relieved, and breathing rhythm corrected.”

“I did not give consent,” Ilya clenched his fingers, feeling anger slowly begin to boil in every cell.

“During sleep you did not object. There was no threat to life or bodily integrity, but the level of accumulated tension required intervention.”

“Of course I didn’t object, because I was fucking asleep,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ilya froze.

This did not feel like control or interference. More like an attempt to occupy as little space as possible, so as not to disturb him.

The arousal did not fade. It deepened. Became quieter, but more tangible. More conscious.

“You said you wouldn’t…" he started, then cut himself off.

“I am not commenting and not interfering,” Shane reminded him. “If you are uncomfortable, I will stop.”

Ilya swallowed. The problem was that it was not uncomfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright” - he said. “Then… let’s try.”

Something moved beneath his skin again. This time more distinctly. Warmth concentrated near his shoulder, and Ilya felt something beginning to form. The sensation intensified slowly; Shane manifested cautiously, not fully breaching the boundary.

A dark, glossy mass emerged from the skin, gradually taking shape. First a hand. Not entirely human, but not monstrous either. The fingers were longer, the joints shaped a little differently, but the movement was smooth, almost careful.

Ilya held his breath.

The hand pressed into the mattress beside him, dimpling the fabric. The weight was real, tangible.

Shane manifested further. A shoulder. Part of a torso. The face was indistinct, but familiar features could be read in it. He looked larger than Ilya, more massive, as if the space around him adjusted to accommodate his presence.

…

“I see” - Shane whispered. His voice wasn’t in Ilya’s head now but close to his temple, low and velvety. “You can just let go. Let me give you pleasure.”

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if you want to read it, you welcome here

“and you're thinking of escape I'll go anywhere with you” by Die_your_child

name inspired by this song¡

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(not) rip shane hollander you would like tonetags