For the unexamined life is not worth living

Rose. (they/their/them)

[starofhisheart]

Happy pride to those 5 seconds where Charlie Swan thought Jacob was coming out to him in the most insane way possible

[marmelade-sky]

hollanov doing the hand size comparison thing and Shane's hand is bigger. He's bashful about it, because he loves feeling a bit small around Ilya (and Ilya can lift him up etc). Meanwhile, Ilya is instantly so hard that he loses vision for a second.

[marmelade-sky]

*sigh* okay okay i'll do it (nobody asked for it). set in tampa. and obviously going off of their show!sizes and not their book!size difference.

-

It's nice, not having to get up and run out of the room immediately after they're done fucking.

The hotel room sheets are rumpled, Rozanov - Ilya - lying on top of them with his arm outstretched while Shane rests his head on his shoulder.

"I missed this," Shane admits, saying it so quietly that it barely comes out.

"Did you now?" Ilya asks, and Shane can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Fuck off," Shane laughs, reaching across his body to poke Ilya in the ribs. Ilya catches his wrist, wrestling him back down. It's light, playful. They're too tired from their first round of sex, anyway.

Eventually, they end up facing each other, Shane on his back, Ilya half-hovering above him, still lightly holding his wrist. Ilya softens his grip, and their hands slide together, palm to palm. Ilya's palm is warm and a little sweaty, but not unpleasantly so.

Shane can't help but stare at their joined hands.

Sometimes, girls wanted to do this, compare hand sizes. Inevitably, it always ended with the girl delighted about how much bigger Shane's hand was than hers.

It made Shane sad, for a second, that his hand was still bigger now, his palm slightly larger than Ilya's, his fingers a bit longer. Rozanov had big hands, strong, manly. Still, Shane's were larger.

"My hand's bigger than yours." It came out embarrassingly... pouty. Shane wanted... Shane had no idea what he wanted.

Ilya could pick him up, could lift him onto a kitchen counter, could carry him into his bedroom and toss him onto the sheets like he weighed nothing. Ilya could hold him down, could manhandle him here and there until Shane was a moaning, squirming mess, spreading his legs and arching his back just the way Ilya wanted him to.

That was what Shane wanted.

"Huh?" Ilya replied, voice dreamy.

"Our hands. Yours is smaller than mine." Shane repeated. When he looked up, Ilya's pupils were blown wide.

"Oh." Sounding dreamy still. "Yeah."

A second of silence passed between them.

Then, Ilya shifted on top of Shane, and Shane gasped. "Are you seriously hard again?!"

Ilya laughed, letting his head fall forward. It was so intimate, to see him like this, to have him smiling and laughing in bed, and Shane couldn't help but laugh, too.

"Did the hand size thing get you hard?"

"Yes, Hollander, fuck," Ilya admitted, "Is kind of hot, no?"

"My big hands?" Shane rolled his eyes.

"Yes, big hands for my big cock," Ilya said with a shit-eating grin.

"You're the worst."

"You like me." Ilya pushed Shane's hand down onto the sheet, and kissed him.

[lavenderprose]

Ilya is so lucky that Shane proposed. Ilya would have been a nervous fucking wreck for the entire day beforehand. Wake up in the morning. Look in the mirror. Today's the day. Sob. Breathe. Okay I'm good! Turn around and Shane's hair is all in his face, still asleep on Ilya's pillow. I am NOT good. Cold shower. Breakfast that Ilya does not eat. Morning jog wherein Ilya runs like someone is chasing him. Lunch that Ilya does not eat. Drive out to the cottage. Make Shane pull over because Ilya needs to dry heave on the side of the road. "Baby we don't have to drive out today if you're not feeling well." "NO WE HAVE TO." Get to the cottage. Immediately send Shane on some kind of extended fool's errand. Shane wants to stay because Ilya is SHAKING and he is so worried. "No my love I'm fine it's just the breeze off the lake haha." It's thirty fuckig degrees Celsius. Shane finally gtfo's. Yuna, David, Rose FUCKING Landry all descend to help Ilya set up. Well. Ilya is supposed to be helping but he is standing on the deck fully dissociating. Yuna brings him tea. "Are you going to throw up the tea?" "Yes probably." Yuna takes away the tea. 800 electronic tea lights on the deck. In a parallel Ilya has no way of understanding, he both puts on and takes off a suit. Yuna fixes his curls into the hockey boy quasi-mullet that magnetizes Shane's fingers to Ilya's hair and says, "Oh, you're so handsome!" Ilya cries big fat tears. David tells a story about how his proposal to Yuna almost didn't happen because David went to the hospital for heart palpitations that morning. Thank You David That Does Not Help Even Remotely. Ilya slav squats on the lawn for twenty minutes. Shane's car pulls up in the driveway and everyone hides while Ilya vibrates in the entryway. Shane has no less than thirty grocery bags hanging from his arms, still complaining about why the grocery service cancelled their delivery last minute. Ilya leads Shane and all thirty of his grocery bags onto the deck. Shane is doing his favorite thing (bitching) and his second favorite thing (Follow Ilya) so he doesn't notice his own mother tiptoing behind him collecting the grocery bags he drops like breadcrumbs. There is an Oscar-winning actress hiding under his sofa and Shane does not notice because Ilya takes him on the deck and drops to his knees and Shane is like, "Haha, right now?" and then he sees that Ilya has a look on his face like he's just been told the sun is never coming up again and he has his hands on Shane's knees and he is saying, "Shane. Please?" and Shane puts his hands on his head and says "Oh my God baby what's happening to you" as Ilya melts and melts and then from the depths of the cottage someone who sounds a lot like Shane's very own father is whispering "The ring the ring" and when he looks back down Ilya is fumbling a ring box out of his pocket. The first picture of their proposal is Shane glaring into the middle distance with a hand cradling Ilya's curls like a baby while Ilya ugly sobs into his knee.

[currysideplate]

Just making use of my free will

Inspo🖼:The Meeting on the Turret Stairs

[mymansmoon]

fluff? on mymansmoon? it's more likely than you think.

it's the year following s1. ilya is still in boston and shane is in montreal. they've just played a game against each other in boston and shane is staying over at ilya's house. after dinner they have a little fight about who's going to handle the dishes and ilya wins, play-snarling and biting at shane. shane rolls his eyes; ilya tells him to go into the living room and turn on the TV or something. so he does. settles into one corner of the couch. bundled top to toe in ilya's clothes: hoodie, sweats, socks. (he prefers his own, texturally, but he liked the principle of using everything of ilya's.)

he turns on some sports channel probably. five minutes later ilya comes into the room and flops onto the couch, head landing in shane's lap and the rest of his body stretching out lengthwise. he lets out a big 'ahh!' sound as he does and shane smiles, putting his hands on him. ilya turns onto his side so he can watch tv as well. maybe there's a hockey game on, i don't know. but they talk for a bit about whatever they're watching. relaxed observations traded back and forth. shane is absently playing with any part of ilya that he can easily reach. his hair, his ear, his neck, his shoulder. the night is winding down. they had a late dinner because they were having sex before. started the moment shane walked in the door. shane is full and relaxed. he has his favourite person in his lap. a silence descends on them both.

at some point something happens on the tv that warrants a comment from shane, but it receives no reply from ilya. "ilya?" he leans forward to check ilya's face and he's sleeping. eyes closed, mouth open. he's making those little clicking noises on his inhales that teeter on the edge of snoring. shane feels an unbearable swell of affection for him and watches him for a bit. then he very carefully reaches over to check the time on his phone. it's late. as much as he doesn't want to disturb ilya, he has an early flight out of boston tomorrow, and he isn't going to get a good night's sleep sitting up on this couch.

shane scratches ilya's scalp gently. "baby," he says. no response. he scratches him again, rubs his shoulder and then his jaw. "baby." ilya makes a noise and frowns, stirring a little. shane thinks his heart is going to burst out of his chest. "baby, let's go to bed," he says. this time ilya turns onto his back but keeps his eyes closed. he lifts his chin, sleepily asking for a kiss. shane smiles and gives it to him. soft warm press of lips for two seconds. when shane pulls back ilya sighs and makes a satisfied "hmmh" sound, before going still again. threatening to fall back asleep. shane's cheeks hurt. he rubs the backs of his fingers under ilya's chin. "hey, sleepyhead," he urges gently.

finally ilya inhales the inhale of a waking person, sudden and sharp and deep, and buries his face in shane's—rather, his own—hoodie. then he lifts himself off shane's lap. shane lets him go, reaching for the remote to shut the tv off while ilya yawns and rubs at his face in his periphery. he has groggy eyes. shane gets up and extends a hand to him; ilya takes it. shane pulls him up and leads him by the hand through the house, as familiar to shane now as his own place in montreal.

"I need to—" ilya gestures at the lights that are still on in the kitchen and entryway. "I've got it," shane says, and leaves ilya to hit all the appropriate switches. when he returns ilya is looking at him in a way. "what?" shane asks.

ilya shakes his head. "is just nice," he murmurs. "this is a little like your house now too."

shane breathes. takes ilya's hand again. "yeah," he says. he squeezes. the house is dark and blue-ish now. moonlight coming in through ilya's floor-to-ceiling windows. they look at each other for several long moments, then shane pulls ilya with him to the bedroom.

[ilyasmole]

you know how that first morning at the cottage ("i like you" / "i like you too") ilya's kind of half asleep and then after they talk shane cuddles in again and ilya pulls him close....i think ilya fell back asleep but shane didn't and after cuddling for a lil while he carefully got out of bed to go take a piss and start on breakfast. and then ilya woke up to the smell of bacon (BACON!! SHANE HOLLANDER COOKING BACON!! FOR ILYA!!) and he practically floated into the kitchen wanting to wrap his arms around shane and start their first morning together and then-

then he froze in place bc shane is standing there in just his underwear and fucking stubble. stubble. ilya's never seen this man with stubble up to this point and he hadn't noticed it earlier, was too sleepy. but now he's just standing at the edge of the kitchen with wide eyes as shane plates their breakfast and finally shane notices him standing there and looks up like 🤨 why are you just standing there

and ilya just:

[hudconera]

this was so crazy

[pregnanthudsonwilliams]

ok i'm still thinking about the branding thing. au where your soulmate leaves a brand on you in some way when you touch them - maybe their ring leaves a mark when you shake hands, or you both come away with marks from brushing arms on the subway - and they burn hot, just for a moment, just enough to make you notice. and shane and ilya both think they're fine because nothing happened when they met. they shook hands, and slammed each other into the boards, and kissed and touched and fucked and nothing. and it's perfect. until it isn't. until they both want more and want to stop wanting more but can't bring themselves to break it off despite the fact that they're both sure that any day now the other one will meet their soulmate. and it'll all be over. and then the tuna meltdown happens and then rose happens and ilya feels sick. constantly, every day, desperately wishing he'd been able to leave a mark on shane, that shane had left his mark on him. wishing even more desperately that he didn't want that. he's so sure that she's left her mark on shane that he almost doesn't go to tampa. almost comes up with some bullshit excuse. but he goes and shane walks into that bar looking so beautiful, his eyes and his smile and his freckles. and he's preparing to have his fears confirmed, but then shane says they weren't compatible. and he thinks he knows what it means and there's hope stirring in his belly, and when he finds shane on the beach and he asks for ilya's room number the hope crawls up his throat. but their thumbs brush and still nothing. no heat, no marks. and then up in that room, shane tells him he's gay, and ilya tells shane about his father, and shane kisses him and rocks him and just holds him. and when they finally fuck again it's slower and more reverent than ever before, and he flips shane on his belly and grinds into him slow and deep, leans down to whisper russian in his ear, because shane seems to like that, and his necklace lands on shane's shoulder. and it doesn't quite light up, not exactly. but ilya can see it. see when it goes hot and hear when shane cries out and comes, clenching around ilya and pulling him over the edge with him, and then ilya looks at the mark, traces it, kisses it, and shane whispers was that -?, and ilya doesn't really know what to say. yes doesn't seem like enough. nothing he could say does. he just lays his head on shane and nods. and feels tears prickling his eyes again. and shane pushes him off and goes to the bathroom to look and ilya's stomach drops again. he's sure shane is going to come back and tell ilya they can't. that he doesn't want him. that it must just be one sided. but instead he comes back and lays down and wraps himself around ilya, burying his face in his chest, and then ilya feels it - white hot, for just a moment. and shane sits up and they both look down and see a perfect imprint of shane's freckles right over ilya's heart.

[wingsseni]

PLEASE POST THE BEAUTIFUL HOLLANOVLING DOODLES YOU SHARED ON TIKTOK 🥹🫶

here they are !! ☺️<3

[devinellekurtz]

My very first tiger drawing and my latest

[formaldehydedoesstuff]

Your skill level is unquestionable but listen.

I love him.

[toasthaste-art]

me also. as well.

[devinellekurtz]

This is the COOLEST thing I’ve seen in AGES. You both completely made my entire week.

[experienceandobservation]

Hudson Williams | hot n dangerous 💃🏻 | June 06, 2026 | 📷 Aika Flores

[gaynehollander]

I'm actually not done talking about Shane playing Never Have I Ever. On several occasions one of the Centaurs says something Shane's never heard of before, and when he asks what it is Ilya shakes his head and says, "just drink."

[fairycosmos]

a slaughterhouse. an outlet mall. slot machines. fear of god. you know the usual

[gaynehollander]

Ilya once got undressed, put on Pony by Ginuwine, and lay down, patting his hips for Shane to get on. Shane's mostly embarrassed that it worked.

[youbitehard]

free use shane is amazing, but I feel like we as a fandom are overseeing free use ilya.

free use ilya that, when shane proposes it, in the convoluted way he invents and proposes every kink in the book out of his beautiful mind, ilya thinks it will be the easiest day of his existence. he always wants shane. he wants shane when he's awake, when he's sleeping, when he's eating. he'd throw the chicken parmesan to the fucking floor if shane says, in that sweet voice, I need you inside me I need you now.

free use ilya that sounds even a little bit condescending when he says yes of course I'll be like your dildo I'll be your toy you can fuck me as many times as you want, let's pick a day that we both are home.

but ilya, of course, ilya had forgotten how to the letter is shane, ilya had forgotten how fucking fast shane can bring himself off on ilya's cock, and the thing is—shane is fucking relentless. ilya wakes up already inside shane, and by the time shane is coming ilya is just starting to get there, but when shane is done he's done so it's not his problem ilya didn't come. no worries, shane will want him soon enough. and yes. soon enough he wants him, but he wants his fingers fingers gimme your fingers ilya and ilya. ilya fucking complies, and when he tries to finish himself off, after shane as finished for a second time almost breaking his fingers with how hard he was squeezing on him by the end, shane looks at ilya, almost disappointed. because, you know, dildos don't fucking come. at least not on their own.

so ilya pushes through, jaws almost hurting and balls definitely hurting but something hazy starts overtaking him, and maybe it's just that there is no more blood in his body apart from the one responsible to maintain his cock hard every time just a whiff of shane's scent comes close to him.

so the day is torture because the next time shane just sits on his face and comes like that and at this point ilya can't barely talk, he's soft and pliant and everything is beyond a veil of pleasure fog where only shane comes through, only his voice, you're doing it so good, you're being such a nice toy, I'm so lucky so lucky so lucky.

when shane finally sits down on his cock again it's like fucking into a furnace, ilya is so gone he just takes it while shane rides him in the sofa, not even bouncing, just grinding against him and letting his saliva fall into ilya's open mouth, tears pooling on the sides of his eyes. and he's not gonna make it, it's just impossible, he's going to come and shane will be disappointed because he did not make him one more time; shane pats at his cheek, not even hard, focus on me, babe, I'm almost there, you can do it, and he directs ilya's hand, first to his mouth to spit on it, and then to his cock so he can jerk him off while he grinds and grinds and grinds and finally, oh, fuck, he finally makes that sound that always precedes his orgasm, it's his fourth, ilya thinks, or maybe his fifth and ilya has had zero, nil, nada, and shane is calling him babe and saying now now now you can, now you're allowed and ilya just lets himself go, everything black and stars in the inside of his eyelids and everything that exists is only shane and the squeeze of his rim around ilya's cock, milking him dry, really really kissing him and bringing themselves down from the fucking clouds.

so good. he says and ilya fucking melts under him. my little toy, so good for me, filling me up only when i ask him to. and ilya is kind of smiling but the side of his cheeks are full of drying tears and he loves shane so much and he will never, never again underestimate his husband.

[scunthotter]

We all know that Ilya is a fake fuckboy but when they start dating Ilya 100% picks up on the fact that Shane likes when he acts like a fuckboy as long as he's sweet afterwards and Shane always gets his phone calls and kisses. So Ilya is always sending the most rancid texts and they always get Shane so fucking hot.

[cablesscutie]

Shane and Ilya struggle to fit in in queer spaces - mostly because Shane in particular struggles. It’s a challenge for them and Ilya worries that Shane is still uncomfortable with being out, but he’s fine about them being together in public. They go grocery shopping, get dinner, walk Anya all over, and Shane is always holding his hand and happily letting Ilya steal kisses.

Then it’s like: is it internalized homophobia and he just doesn’t like being around other gays? Not really. He doesn’t feel judgmental necessarily about the other people? But he definitely doesn’t Get It. If anything he kind of wishes that he was able to understand what about all of it brings them joy because they look so happy but it all makes him anxious to his fucking core. It makes him feel like he did at high school parties, completely off-beat and unable to follow what the social cues are.

Then Harris throws a pride bbq at his and Troy’s place and Shane is squirmy again, zoning in and out of a conversation that “they’re” in but really it’s just Ilya talking and Shane humming occasionally. Until Ilya nudges him away from the conversation and says “The lesbians are playing corn hole over there, why don’t you go try that?”

Shane wanders over, and somehow very quickly finds himself paired up with a woman wearing a backwards Centaurs cap and a pair of khaki shorts Shane swears he also owns. He blurts that thought out and across the grass another woman in Chacos and a Hawaiian shirt (he later finds out this is her wife) cups her hands around her mouth and yells “GAYYY” in a booming voice nearly identical to how he’s heard it in locker rooms for years. Except for once the boisterous hollering isn’t shoving Shane further into an invisible box, it’s inviting him into the joke. “I think my husband owns that shirt!” He shouts back and he gets a very familiar clap on the shoulder. It’s extremely jock-y and warm and approving.

By the end of the night Shane has several new friends from his hours viciously chirping these women over lawn games. He’s sweaty and grass stained and has like five new contacts in his phone and plans to go running with Anya later that week. Ilya is a little sunburnt and loose, full of sangria and hot dogs (“please don’t throw up in our car” Shane does have to pull over) and new gossip that he recounts to Shane as well as he can remember it the whole car ride home.