I never liked the name Geraldine!

Call me Daphne! A ramshackle collection of TV shows and movies, fiber crafts and anything in between

[fluorescentbrains]

citationless behavior

[lizleeships]

POV: Your Eldritch husband thinks you go on too many business trips

(Yes it's me, I'm back on my bullshit. Feel free to partake here or here)

[marmelade-sky]

if you’re taking prompts again can I request anything ryan and fabian? I love the way you write them

thank you!! I love them :)

my prompts are closed as I'm working through my backlog but my asks are always open for chatting <3

-

They were sitting outside in the shade, drinking coffee on the balcony of their AirBnB. Fabian had a book in front of him which he was ignoring in favor of his phone, and Ryan was just staring off into space, enjoying the warm breeze, and the sight and sounds of the ocean. Fabian's feet rested in his lap, and Ryan was gently massaging his ankles. Fabian had just finished a series of music festivals in Europe, and this was his reward. Or celebration. Both.

Fabian hummed when Ryan dug his thumb into the sole of his foot. He hadn't complained once, but Ryan could tell he was tired, strung out after so many tour stops, so much traveling. He had played four small concerts in between the festivals as well, with barely a day to rest in between. There was tea on the table as well, for his voice.

"Ry?"

"Hm?" Ryan looked up to find Fabian smiling at him.

"You can totally say now, but I saw something that reminded me of you." He turned his phone so Ryan could see the screen. He was on Pinterest, and the pin he was showing Ryan was the side profile of a beautiful woman with the same hair color as Ryan, her long hair braided down the side of her head, purple flowers stuck into the braid.

"Can I try doing this on you?"

Ryan felt himself blush just slightly. "Yeah, sure."

Fabian's smile broadened, and he stood before climbing into Ryan's lap. Ryan had his hair tied up, and Fabian gently pulled the hair tie out before combing his fingers through it.

"You're so gorgeous," he whispered, and pressed a brief kiss on Ryan's lips. Ryan smiled into it, preening at the compliment, wrapping his hands around Fabian's waist.

Fabian went to work. Carefully, he parted Ryan's hair, then began braiding. The sensation was pleasant, and Ryan closed his eyes. Fabian wiggling in his lap didn't go by unnoticed by his body, and eventually, Fabian softly giggled, grinding down against him. Ryan grinned, opening his eyes. "I thought you wanted to braid my hair."

"Almost done," Fabian whispered. He grabbed the hair tie from the table, and tied the braid off. Then, he reached out behind Ryan. There were flowers growing into the balcony; Ryan had no idea what they were, but they were a soft, rose-pink color, small petals. Fabian carefully plucked a few, and placed them in different spots of the braid he'd made. "There. Done."

He pulled back, looking at his work with a satisfied smile. "So pretty."

Ryan reached for his phone on the table, using the front camera to look at himself. He did, in fact, look pretty. The braid looked very nice, and the flowers were cute, the pink complimenting his hair color. Ryan momentarily couldn't speak, his tongue paralized by the sight of himself.

"Do you like it?" Fabian asked hopefully.

Ryan nodded, unable to tear his eyes away.

"We could do something like that for your sister's wedding," Fabian suggested, his tone soft and careful. Ryan looked up at him, startled.

"People will think it's weird," he mumbled, immediately feeling a deep sort of dread creep up on him, threatening to dissolve this euphoric feeling.

Fabian shook his head. "No! You'll be in a suit, and you're, y'know, you. So I think people will see it more as a... like... viking thing?"

Ryan gave an unconvinced groan and looked at himself once more.

"Maybe if we left out the flowers...?"

He could tell Fabian wasn't quite satisfied with the answer, but nodded anyway. "If you want. I think they're pretty."

Ryan sighed, locking his phone, putting it down on the table. "You know I'm not brave like you." He looked down at his huge, scarred hand on the table. The phone looked tiny next to it. Fabian had painted his nails silver for the tour, and looking at them helped to slightly settle the unrest Ryan felt in his heart.

"You're plenty brave." Fabian climbed back into his lap, hands on Ryan's shoulders, stroking the back of his neck. "And anyway," he smiled, "I will be so sparkly that nobody will even look at you."

That made Ryan smile, too. "You can't outshine my sister, though."

"Never." Fabian rolled his eyes. "Her lame husband, though..."

They laughed, and Ryan wrapped his arms around Fabian, pulling him closer. "Thank you."

"I love you," Fabian whispered, and pressed a kiss to Ryan's temple. "You're allowed to be pretty."

Ryan pulled him in, burying his face in Fabian's shoulder, hiding the tears which had shot into his eyes.

[russianblush]

hudson in his hotel room right now in paris facetiming connor in toronto while they're both sobbing

[beekeeperspicnic]

My comic from @very-sincerely-yours-zine !

This was a lovely little thing to hop into after finishing last Summer after The Beekeeper's Picnic.

I spent a while debating whether Mycroft Holmes is a jam first or a cream first kind of scone eater.

[catsofyore]

Bubble & Squeak. Undated postcard from my collection.

[dailyhudsonwilliams]

via dazed

[stabthroughme]

Svetlana should find out abt Hollanov and ask Ilya if she could watch and witness Ilya's intense jealousy wrangled into laughter bc he thinks she's joking.

She is not.

Two generational hockey talents fucking each other? Knowing how Ilya fucks? Hot. Personal brand of porn for Svetlana. Wonderful mental image for herself to ponder.

[sweetangelfart]

Yuna posts a carousel of ilya on her Instagram page to celebrate his birthday with the caption, "My youngest turns a year older today. Thank you for bringing your big heart and soft smiles into our lives. Your perseverance, intuition and ambition never fails to amaze me. We can't wait to see what the future has in store for you and we're so so glad to call you our son.

P.S David asked me to tell you that he is very excited about the puzzle he picked out to do with you."

All the pics are of ilya being soft 🤧

Him at the dinner table stuffing his face with chicken parm with a mountain of cheese, the marinara sauce tinge the corners of his mouth

Him and Yuna on the couch, his head on her lap, her fingers lost in his curls

Him in the backyard of his house, sat on the ground while Anya licks his face

Him and shane passed out on different parts couch on their tummies, with their fingers tangled together

Him with the pikelings treating him like jungle gym. The twins hang from his biceps while Arthur is licking an ice lolly sat on his shoulders totally zoned out and little Amber has wrapped her teeny tiny hands around one of his knees. To be noted, he is wearing one of his expensive ass ray bans and his nails are painted in the bi flag and he's wearing those necklaces from the DIY jewellery making kits for kids.

Him solving a puzzle with David at the dinner table with a blanket around his shoulders

Him posing with 2 hotdogs as if they are guns, face scrunched in mock strain

A family photo of four of them in a restaurant all happy smiles, a bit shaky due the staff being nervous

Him sticking his tongue out at shane with the TV remote in one hand keeping it out of reach while the other arm tries to push shane away

The hudcon lick™️ on the ice but hollanov in their Ottawa jerseys

Him and shane at the dock with Shane's arm around his waist and his wrapped around Shane's shoulders at they watch the sun rise at the cottage

A picture of them at their wedding, shane throwing his head back laughing, his hand on his stomach with the wedding band glinting as ilya tries to hide his smirk into his champagne glass

When ilya finds out, he blushes deep red and tries to hold back tears.

"Shaaaannneeee, mama is trying to make me look uncool!!! She's posted nice pictures and its ruining my reputation!!" As he whines and poutspoutspouts while shane laughs at his face and feeds him cake

[yuqis-ifty]

Ik we were talking about MILF Yuna Hollander and DILF David Hollander, but genuinely they were also both just THAT attractive even when they were younger, for reference:

Mind you these aren't even from that long ago. So yes, hot4hot strikes in the hr universe yet again.

[meret118]

She looks like the president of The Young Entrepreneurs Club, and they just spotted each other across campus. :)

[raincitygirl76]

Actually, I’d say younger Yuna looks more like a cheetah who’s just spotted a gazelle. That handsome, mild-mannered guy who plays hockey for McGill is in her sights. And she wants him.

Young David won’t know what hit him. A beautiful girl has descended upon him on campus, talking about hockey. Twenty minutes later, she’s handed him her phone number and they have plans for dinner the following night. He’s slightly confused about how it all happened, but he’s definitely not complaining.

[yolkylemon]

💪 💦

ilya version

[oddarette]

The boujie snail likes to collect little gemstones. It won’t get hurt because the bottom of its foot is soft metal 💎

[fuckrozanov]

goodmorning this is your assigned shane of the day

[marmelade-sky]

so many fics out there where shane cheats on his mid boyfriend with Ilya... and I love them all BUT what about Ilya cheating on his boyfriend with Shane

[marmelade-sky]

ok i know you're all like wtf is she on about but hear me out

hollanov hooked up like in canon, but after "we didn't even kiss", shane panicked so hard he cut contact with Ilya. and Ilya tried to pursue him for YEARS, truly years, but Shane, somehow, completely cuts him off, panicking so hard that it overrides his deep-seated desire for russian dick. and eventually, Rose happens, and Ilya is like, wow. Maybe he is bisexual after all. Or maybe he's decided to put himself through conversion therapy. Ilya pretends he doesn't give a fuck.

(but it hurts, oh my god does it hurt to lose something ilya wanted this much.)

so Ilya does what he did before Shane Hollander: have fun, play hockey, hook up with hot people. He does date women, but nothing lasts: three months here, two months there, six months (woo, new record!) there. It's not that serious, and the girls enjoy being seen with him, getting spoiled with nhl money gifts and coming out of it with a heavy gain in instagram followers.

When they play each other, Hollander can't even look him in the eyes anymore (can still beat him, though).

Ilya plays for Boston long enough that he gains American citizenship, and once his dad dies, he well and truly stops being careful.

Scott Hunter kisses Kip Grady on the ice, and six months later, Ilya Rozanov is papped leaving a gay club with a hot guy holding his hand.

In true Ilya Rozanov fashion, he "is not a big deal"s his way through the press uproar, and ends up out as bisexual on the other end of it. The most-repeated joke is "rozanov has fucked so many women that he's running out and had to move on to men".

meanwhile, in Canada, Shane Hollander is seething with anger.

Rose broke up with him months ago (kindly, they're still friends), and unfortunately, Shane cannot lie to himself any longer about the fact that he's gay. And while he is having this whole identity crisis, fucking Russia's greatest love machine casually comes out of the closet, and doesn't even get that much backlash about it.

And while Shane is fluctuating between wanting to smash something and having an hourly panic attack, Ilya is out at the club, getting drunk and trying to find someone for the night because there's a hole deep in his chest that feels like an empty cavern growing larger by the day, and the only way he knows how to fill it is with sex.

And there's a guy who catches his eye. Ilya can immediately tell that he, too, is russian. He's hot, well-dressed, dark-haired with high cheekbones and an expression that makes Ilya want to chase him.

Ilya hits on him in russian, just to see if he's correct, and of course he is. The guy's name is Nikolai, and Ilya takes him home.

It's fun, finally speaking russian again while they fuck, so Ilya gets his number. They fuck again, four days later. After, because Ilya is not, contrary to popular belief, an asshole to his hook-ups, they lounge around in bed, smoking and talking. Nikolai is a model, trying to establish himself in the scene, trying to gain followers.

Half-joking, Ilya goes "You can post a photo with me."

Nikolai raises one perfect eyebrow at him. "No, that's for boyfriends, not hook-ups."

Ilya considers it; he's done this sort of thing with girls before; both of them knowing it's not going to last, both of them knowing they will both gain something from it, a few weeks of shared fun, a few weeks of regular sex and companionship, no hard feelings.

Ilya gives him a shrug. "We can do that, too. I need a date to an awards show in three weeks, anyway."

Shane sees the photo in the Metros group chat, the guys making fun of it. He takes one look at it: Rozanov, clearly in bed, hair rumpled, giving the camera an unimpressed stare. Next to him, one of the prettiest guys Shane has ever seen: short dark hair, cheekbones so high they look like they could cut glass, eyes more seductive than Shane could ever muster.

Shane locks his phone, and spends the rest of the night throwing up in his marble tiled bathroom.

[marmelade-sky]

the awards come around.

a day before, Ilya receives a text.

are you bringing your boyfriend?

It's from an unknown number.

who is this? Ilya texts back.

Shane Hollander.

Ilya almost drops his phone. Because what the actual fuck.

yes, he texts back, hands shaking. what does it matter to you

There's no reply.

"Are you okay?" Nikolai asks when Ilya enters the bedroom a minute later.

"Yes, fine," Ilya lies. "Will be better if you make me come."

"Then let me clear your head." Nikolai says, and then he sucks Ilya's dick, and it's flawless and perfect like it always is. Just the right amount of gagging.

Ilya still hasn't forgotten about it, after.

Meanwhile, Shane hasn't slept properly in two nights. And maybe it's the insomnia and sleep deprivation which made him text Rozanov. Or maybe it's the hard ball of anxiety and panic in his guts. Or maybe it's the green, ferocious little animal which has made a nest in his chest in the past few weeks; its name is jealousy. It scratches at the inside of Shane's ribcage everytime he sees a photo of Rozanov and his stupid, gorgeous boyfriend on social media.

He doesn't know why this is what's catching up to him.

Rozanov has always been famous for being a womanizer, for having a girl in every port. Multiple girls, even. Shane never cared, not even when there were rumors of actual relationships. (Well, maybe he did care a little bit. But never like this.)

During one of the many hours of sleeplessness, he thinks about it. It's the betrayal, he realizes. Shane knew from the moment he liked guys that he'd have to suffer through the repression, the hiding, the guilt, the shame. Knew he would never be able to have a relationship like his teammates, not as long as he was in hockey. And knowing Rozanov was, in a way, on the same page, had made him feel less alone. It was a shitty path, but at least, they'd be walking it together, hand in unlovable hand.

But now, Rozanov is out, and Shane is walking all alone. And for what? A random guy in a club? Some model who probably doesn't even know who Wayne Gretzky is?

It can't be that easy, because if it is, Shane has missed so much for nothing.

There's more, though.

Because in the past few years of his life, there hasn't been one single day when Shane hasn't thought of Ilya Rozanov fucking him. Not one.

And to know that this random model (who probably doesn't even know who Wayne Gretzki is) gets to have this every night makes Shane want to sink his teeth into something until he draws blood.

So he texts Rozanov. Because he has to know.

And re-reads the yes over and over again, until his eyes start swimming with tears.

[marmelade-sky]

good morning i am back with more

Ilya looks very good in his black suit, perfectly tailored to fit him. He bought Nikolai a matching gray one, and together, they're all sharp angles and unimpressed russian stares.

Nikolai is a pro at withstanding the onslaught of camera flashes, pretending like he doesn't actually care about being seen with one of hockey's most notorious players. Ilya keeps his hand on his waist, pulling him against his side.

Queer as in fuck you. Hunter can play house and be digestible to straight people if he wants.

Speaking of being digestible to straight people; Hollander arrives in a navy blue suit and with a smile on his face like there's a tiny gay frog living in his mouth.

Ilya forces himself to look as Hollander blinks into the cameras, awkward and sweet as ever.

Hollander turns, looks up, and catches Ilya's eyes. Ilya can see Hollander's expression wavering, can see his eyes go wide, only for a second.

Ilya tightens his grip on Nikolai's waist, and Nikolai, oblivious, leans into him.

are you bringing your boyfriend?

Why even ask? After almost ten fucking years, why even ask?!

"I need champagne," Nikolai says in Ilya's ear, leaning on his shoulder, speaking seductively next to his face, making it look sexier than it is. Someone else will be very happy to show him off once Ilya is done with him.

Ilya nods once. Before he leads him away towards the bar, he shoots Hollander another look, expecting careful blandness, or maybe a weak moment's sadness.

What he doesn't expect is a flash of seething anger, eyes narrowed, jaw locked, gaze fixed on Ilya's hand grabbing on to Nikolai's waist.

"Wait," Ilya says in Russian, "I want to talk to a friend first." He ignores Nikolai's indignant tsk.

Shane feels like he might have lost his mind during these sleepless nights.

The man next to Rozanov is just as gorgeous as he looked in all the pictures: tall, lean, handsome in an ethereal way. He's wearing diamond earrings which, Shane thinks bitterly, surely he did not pay for himself. When he leans in to speak into Rozanov's ear, it reveals a bruise in the back of his neck.

Shane hates him immediately. Hates him so much that the feeling of wanting to sink his teeth into something returns forcefully; sink them in so deep until something dies.

He is so overcome with jealousy that he notices it way too late, Rozanov coming towards him with his boy toy on his arm.

"Hollander."

It sends goosebumps down his neck, the hard R.

"Rozanov," Shane says.

"You look good," Rozanov has the audacity to say.

From the corner of his eyes, Shane can see the boyfriend's eyes dart back and forth between them. Then, he says something quick in Russian, and it makes Shane hate him even more, the fact that he shares a language with Rozanov.

Rozanov replies something quick in Russian, and the boyfriend sticks his hand out at Shane. "Hi, I'm Nikolai, nice to meet you."

Shane ignores him.

It's the rudest thing he's ever done in his entire life, and people have accused him of being rude before (even though he never meant to be). He means to be now.

After an awkward second, Nikolai pulls back his hand, his beautiful face going from pleasant to annoyed. Another quick sentence in Russian.

Rozanov, however, has the audacity to laugh, then shushes him. Shane is vibrating with tension.

They're surrounded by people, so he can't say what he wants to say. What he needs to say. Feels like his the words will spill out of him anyway if he opens his mouth now, so he keeps it shut.

"Well, Hollander," Rozanov gives him a little smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "Nice talking to you. Come on, Nicky, let's get you some champagne now."

And Shane just stands there, fists clenched by his side, as Rozanov walks away.

The boyfriend looks back at Shane over his shoulder, and there's an imperceptible little smile on his face.

Shane, famously bad at reading social cues, knows what this one means:

I won, bitch.

we'll see about that.

[marmelade-sky]

so many fics out there where shane cheats on his mid boyfriend with Ilya... and I love them all BUT what about Ilya cheating on his boyfriend with Shane

[marmelade-sky]

ok i know you're all like wtf is she on about but hear me out

hollanov hooked up like in canon, but after "we didn't even kiss", shane panicked so hard he cut contact with Ilya. and Ilya tried to pursue him for YEARS, truly years, but Shane, somehow, completely cuts him off, panicking so hard that it overrides his deep-seated desire for russian dick. and eventually, Rose happens, and Ilya is like, wow. Maybe he is bisexual after all. Or maybe he's decided to put himself through conversion therapy. Ilya pretends he doesn't give a fuck.

(but it hurts, oh my god does it hurt to lose something ilya wanted this much.)

so Ilya does what he did before Shane Hollander: have fun, play hockey, hook up with hot people. He does date women, but nothing lasts: three months here, two months there, six months (woo, new record!) there. It's not that serious, and the girls enjoy being seen with him, getting spoiled with nhl money gifts and coming out of it with a heavy gain in instagram followers.

When they play each other, Hollander can't even look him in the eyes anymore (can still beat him, though).

Ilya plays for Boston long enough that he gains American citizenship, and once his dad dies, he well and truly stops being careful.

Scott Hunter kisses Kip Grady on the ice, and six months later, Ilya Rozanov is papped leaving a gay club with a hot guy holding his hand.

In true Ilya Rozanov fashion, he "is not a big deal"s his way through the press uproar, and ends up out as bisexual on the other end of it. The most-repeated joke is "rozanov has fucked so many women that he's running out and had to move on to men".

meanwhile, in Canada, Shane Hollander is seething with anger.

Rose broke up with him months ago (kindly, they're still friends), and unfortunately, Shane cannot lie to himself any longer about the fact that he's gay. And while he is having this whole identity crisis, fucking Russia's greatest love machine casually comes out of the closet, and doesn't even get that much backlash about it.

And while Shane is fluctuating between wanting to smash something and having an hourly panic attack, Ilya is out at the club, getting drunk and trying to find someone for the night because there's a hole deep in his chest that feels like an empty cavern growing larger by the day, and the only way he knows how to fill it is with sex.

And there's a guy who catches his eye. Ilya can immediately tell that he, too, is russian. He's hot, well-dressed, dark-haired with high cheekbones and an expression that makes Ilya want to chase him.

Ilya hits on him in russian, just to see if he's correct, and of course he is. The guy's name is Nikolai, and Ilya takes him home.

It's fun, finally speaking russian again while they fuck, so Ilya gets his number. They fuck again, four days later. After, because Ilya is not, contrary to popular belief, an asshole to his hook-ups, they lounge around in bed, smoking and talking. Nikolai is a model, trying to establish himself in the scene, trying to gain followers.

Half-joking, Ilya goes "You can post a photo with me."

Nikolai raises one perfect eyebrow at him. "No, that's for boyfriends, not hook-ups."

Ilya considers it; he's done this sort of thing with girls before; both of them knowing it's not going to last, both of them knowing they will both gain something from it, a few weeks of shared fun, a few weeks of regular sex and companionship, no hard feelings.

Ilya gives him a shrug. "We can do that, too. I need a date to an awards show in three weeks, anyway."

Shane sees the photo in the Metros group chat, the guys making fun of it. He takes one look at it: Rozanov, clearly in bed, hair rumpled, giving the camera an unimpressed stare. Next to him, one of the prettiest guys Shane has ever seen: short dark hair, cheekbones so high they look like they could cut glass, eyes more seductive than Shane could ever muster.

Shane locks his phone, and spends the rest of the night throwing up in his marble tiled bathroom.

[marmelade-sky]

the awards come around.

a day before, Ilya receives a text.

are you bringing your boyfriend?

It's from an unknown number.

who is this? Ilya texts back.

Shane Hollander.

Ilya almost drops his phone. Because what the actual fuck.

yes, he texts back, hands shaking. what does it matter to you

There's no reply.

"Are you okay?" Nikolai asks when Ilya enters the bedroom a minute later.

"Yes, fine," Ilya lies. "Will be better if you make me come."

"Then let me clear your head." Nikolai says, and then he sucks Ilya's dick, and it's flawless and perfect like it always is. Just the right amount of gagging.

Ilya still hasn't forgotten about it, after.

Meanwhile, Shane hasn't slept properly in two nights. And maybe it's the insomnia and sleep deprivation which made him text Rozanov. Or maybe it's the hard ball of anxiety and panic in his guts. Or maybe it's the green, ferocious little animal which has made a nest in his chest in the past few weeks; its name is jealousy. It scratches at the inside of Shane's ribcage everytime he sees a photo of Rozanov and his stupid, gorgeous boyfriend on social media.

He doesn't know why this is what's catching up to him.

Rozanov has always been famous for being a womanizer, for having a girl in every port. Multiple girls, even. Shane never cared, not even when there were rumors of actual relationships. (Well, maybe he did care a little bit. But never like this.)

During one of the many hours of sleeplessness, he thinks about it. It's the betrayal, he realizes. Shane knew from the moment he liked guys that he'd have to suffer through the repression, the hiding, the guilt, the shame. Knew he would never be able to have a relationship like his teammates, not as long as he was in hockey. And knowing Rozanov was, in a way, on the same page, had made him feel less alone. It was a shitty path, but at least, they'd be walking it together, hand in unlovable hand.

But now, Rozanov is out, and Shane is walking all alone. And for what? A random guy in a club? Some model who probably doesn't even know who Wayne Gretzky is?

It can't be that easy, because if it is, Shane has missed so much for nothing.

There's more, though.

Because in the past few years of his life, there hasn't been one single day when Shane hasn't thought of Ilya Rozanov fucking him. Not one.

And to know that this random model (who probably doesn't even know who Wayne Gretzki is) gets to have this every night makes Shane want to sink his teeth into something until he draws blood.

So he texts Rozanov. Because he has to know.

And re-reads the yes over and over again, until his eyes start swimming with tears.

[sublunagh]

HEATED RIVALRY | Sveta & Ilya

[pxssionate-intensity]

Ilya and Shane, on top of being The Lovebirds Of All Time, are best fucking friends.

Shane is the #1 person Ilya gossips with. Since Shane isn’t the best on picking up subtext, all of the drama Ilya has to share is a complete surprise to him. Which makes him both the most entertained by the gossip and the most entertaining gossip partner.

Shane has an extremely dry sense of humor, and in public he’ll whisper deadpan commentary into Ilya’s ear while Ilya tries not to cry laughing.

Ilya has a very dark sense of humor that makes most people who hear it uncomfortable, but not Shane. Shane thinks it’s absolutely hilarious every time.

Ilya and Shane love to sit in the same room, do separate activities, and barely speak to each other. Shane will read a book while Ilya plays a video game, and one of them will have their feet in the other’s lap.

While everyone in the league thinks Ilya is a huge asshole, Shane thinks he’s hilarious. In fact, Shane usually agrees with Ilya’s chirps and will not defend anyone against them.

I just love the idea that they’re absolute best friends.