boy love is in

Del, 28, she/her. lesbian fujoshi, RPF warrior, silly goose.

[delsicle]

hiiii divas, I'm Del, welcome to my blog. I'm 28, a lesbian and have unfortunately been on this website for half my life.

a lil about me/this blog:

rn I'm deep into all things Heated Rivalry, but also blog about anime, famous people and other assorted sillies

RPF is not only legal but mandatory

I love to yap and I love making new mutuals and pals. messages and asks are always welcome!

however. please don't talk to me if you're a minor we can't be friends

I track the #delsicle tag if you want to tag me in things

I also write fic, you can check out my stuff here:

ao3 - main/RPF pseud

ao3 - non-RPF pseud

fic post tag

mini fic tag

HR fic masterpost

bratva au masterpost / bratva au tag (play in my sandbox!)

k love ya bye!

blinkie banners by the lovely and talented @ilyasmole 🩷

[shanehollanderilyarozanov]

shane hollander moments that break my heart

[tachibana--chan]

  .ﾟ☆ プリンセス・セレニティ ☆ﾟ.

[shilyas]

HUDSON WILLIAMS | Ember & Ice Extended Quinn Interview

[delsicle]

snippet sunday

I haven't posted a snippet/preview in awhile, so please enjoy this scene from my upcoming body horror fic for gross hollanov week

🩹🩹🩹

“Tell me why you are here.”

“Well, I want help with my knee, mostly, and – “

“No, tell me why you are here with me,” Dr. Rozanov said. “You have seen nearly every other doctor in the city. What do you want from me that you cannot get from them?”

Shane scratched at the back of his neck, heat still under the surface of his skin. He thought of his late night rabbit holes, forum threads, key word lists a mile long, all to scrounge up a clinic address on the other side of the city.

“I was looking online, and I found your name,” he said. “People saying you fix things other doctors can’t.”

“That’s not untrue. Some of my methods are not exactly traditional.”

“What, like…holisitc healing or something?”

“No, no, none of that…pardon me, bullshit,” Dr. Rozanov shook his head. “I use real treatment, real medicine. But the treatment I provide is in the trial phase. As long as that is okay with you, I can help you.”

“I’m not opposed to that, I guess.”

“Good. And if I give you this medicine, what do you want to happen? Do you want the pain in your leg to go away?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Mm. And what else?” Dr. Rozanov lifted his brows. “Over sixty surgeries in two years, and all you want is to not hurt anymore?”

“The surgeries were to help with my mobility, not the pain.”

“So mobility, then,” Dr. Rozanov jutted his chin to the cane that was leaned against the exam chair. “You want to stop using that?”

“I don’t use it much, really.”

“But you want to not use it at all.”

“I mean, ideally, sure.”

Dr. Rozanov set his clipboard in his lap and leaned forward on his elbows, looking at Shane closely.

“Shane,” he said. “Do you want to play again?”

A thick, bristly weight suddenly formed in the center of Shane’s throat, threatening to restrict his airway.

“I can never play again.”

“That is not what I asked.”

Shane swallowed, trying to clear his throat.

“Of course I want to play again.”

The corner of Dr. Rozanov’s mouth twitched up.

“Very nice. You want to play for charity match or something?”

“No. I mean, yeah, sure, but – “ Shane shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m saying all this. I’m sorry.”

“Shane,” Dr. Rozanov said. “It is important you are honest with me, so I can help you. You do not have to be embarrassed here. Tell me what you want.”

Shane squirmed, flicking his eyes over to the faded anatomy posters on the wall next to him.

“What I want will never happen,” Shane said, still making eye contact with an illustrated map of the digestive system.

“That is okay. Tell me.”

Shane looked back to Dr. Rozanov as he worked his tongue in his mouth, trying to free the words that were always tucked deep into his brain. The reason he still lived in Montreal despite his parents begging him to come back to Ottawa.

When he met the doctor’s eyes, it felt like he already knew the contents of Shane’s thoughts.

“I want to play for the Metros again.”

Dr. Rozanov was smiling again, his eyes sparkling and curious.

“Just for one season?”

“I think that’s all they’d give me, even if I could play again.”

“And that is enough for you? This would make you happy?”

“Of course. Hockey makes me happier than anything in the world.”

“So you will play again,” Dr. Rozanov nodded. “Good season? First line? Playoff run? Big trophy at the end?”

“Well,” Shane swallowed. “I should…be realistic.”

“Realistic.”

“If they let me back, I probably won’t get much time on the ice. My coach would probably avoid putting me on with any really strong players, since I’d be…”

A liability. The word sat on the back of his tongue, heavy and arid. That’s what his agent and coach had both called him, when Shane had asked two years ago if there was any chance he could play again. He was a risk that likely wouldn’t pay off, an extra line to the team insurance policy.

“And this would be enough for you?” Dr. Rozanov asked. His eyes, which had looked sea blue in the lobby, were icy under the exam room lights. “Little victory lap season? Out by March, maybe sooner?”

Shane swallowed, looking at his hands, still riddled with callouses and pale scars from his playing days.

Of course it wasn’t enough.

“No,” he finally said. “But I have to – “

“Be realistic. I remember,” Dr. Rozanov nodded. “If you did not have to be realistic, what would you want?”

“I want another cup,” Shane said immediately, the words pouring out easily now. “I want my C back. I want to score the most goals in a season, more than anyone else, more than my last record. I want to be MVP. I want to be the best again.”

Dr. Rozanov’s mouth twitched.

“And what would you do to get all of that?”

“Anything,” Shane said. “Literally anything.”

Dr. Rozanov stood, then, shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his scrubs.

“You are a very determined man, Shane Hollander. You will be a good patient.”

He nodded towards the door, beckoning Shane back into the hallway.

“Come. I will run your labs.”

[sabrinasource]

SABRINA CARPENTER Dior Fall 2026 Ready-to-Wear Show (July 6, 2026)

[iero]

I am always thinking about this slow fucking hockey player with beautiful freckles. And a weak backhand. A weak backhand? Yes, very weak. And, he's so boring and he drives this terrible car! It's a normal car! I am always wishing that these women were him.

HEATED RIVALRY 1.02 | 1.06

[ottawacentaurshq]

🥰

[ilyagrigoryevichhollander]

HUDCON being sweeties

[hazmesentir]

do you think right after they film an intense sex scene Connor collapses on top of hudson for a quick cuddle in just their cock socks before they get handed their robes?

I do like to imagine part of chala's services include a pause for post-nut aftercare where everyone else leaves the set and lets them do their cuddling and pillowtalk for 10-15 minutes. if i'm feeling particularly rabid I imagine if one day jacob leaves the camera rolling and he somewhere has unedited footage of them nuzzling noses and telling each other how good they were. connor helping hudson get a deep stretch in his adductors because he mentioned he was a bit sore from the day before. hudson cupping connor's jaw in his hands and grinning at him as they steal a few little kisses, in character, right? it's what shane and ilya would do.

one day jacob comes back and finds the footage and decides he will quietly delete it before anyone else can. and starts preparing his So You Think You're In Love With Your Co-Star director-dad speech

[miscelium]

What Tierney refers to as "the cutest thing in the world," however, is when he's watching the rushes, a.k.a. dailies, the raw, unedited footage shot from a day on set. "Listening to them check in on each other in low voices during the sex," he recalls. "Like, 'You good?' 'Do you want me to move something?' They're so aware of each other."

oh yeah he absolutely does

[sheisraging]

help i love them

[delsicle]

snippet sunday

I haven't posted a snippet/preview in awhile, so please enjoy this scene from my upcoming body horror fic for gross hollanov week

🩹🩹🩹

“Tell me why you are here.”

“Well, I want help with my knee, mostly, and – “

“No, tell me why you are here with me,” Dr. Rozanov said. “You have seen nearly every other doctor in the city. What do you want from me that you cannot get from them?”

Shane scratched at the back of his neck, heat still under the surface of his skin. He thought of his late night rabbit holes, forum threads, key word lists a mile long, all to scrounge up a clinic address on the other side of the city.

“I was looking online, and I found your name,” he said. “People saying you fix things other doctors can’t.”

“That’s not untrue. Some of my methods are not exactly traditional.”

“What, like…holisitc healing or something?”

“No, no, none of that…pardon me, bullshit,” Dr. Rozanov shook his head. “I use real treatment, real medicine. But the treatment I provide is in the trial phase. As long as that is okay with you, I can help you.”

“I’m not opposed to that, I guess.”

“Good. And if I give you this medicine, what do you want to happen? Do you want the pain in your leg to go away?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Mm. And what else?” Dr. Rozanov lifted his brows. “Over sixty surgeries in two years, and all you want is to not hurt anymore?”

“The surgeries were to help with my mobility, not the pain.”

“So mobility, then,” Dr. Rozanov jutted his chin to the cane that was leaned against the exam chair. “You want to stop using that?”

“I don’t use it much, really.”

“But you want to not use it at all.”

“I mean, ideally, sure.”

Dr. Rozanov set his clipboard in his lap and leaned forward on his elbows, looking at Shane closely.

“Shane,” he said. “Do you want to play again?”

A thick, bristly weight suddenly formed in the center of Shane’s throat, threatening to restrict his airway.

“I can never play again.”

“That is not what I asked.”

Shane swallowed, trying to clear his throat.

“Of course I want to play again.”

The corner of Dr. Rozanov’s mouth twitched up.

“Very nice. You want to play for charity match or something?”

“No. I mean, yeah, sure, but – “ Shane shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m saying all this. I’m sorry.”

“Shane,” Dr. Rozanov said. “It is important you are honest with me, so I can help you. You do not have to be embarrassed here. Tell me what you want.”

Shane squirmed, flicking his eyes over to the faded anatomy posters on the wall next to him.

“What I want will never happen,” Shane said, still making eye contact with an illustrated map of the digestive system.

“That is okay. Tell me.”

Shane looked back to Dr. Rozanov as he worked his tongue in his mouth, trying to free the words that were always tucked deep into his brain. The reason he still lived in Montreal despite his parents begging him to come back to Ottawa.

When he met the doctor’s eyes, it felt like he already knew the contents of Shane’s thoughts.

“I want to play for the Metros again.”

Dr. Rozanov was smiling again, his eyes sparkling and curious.

“Just for one season?”

“I think that’s all they’d give me, even if I could play again.”

“And that is enough for you? This would make you happy?”

“Of course. Hockey makes me happier than anything in the world.”

“So you will play again,” Dr. Rozanov nodded. “Good season? First line? Playoff run? Big trophy at the end?”

“Well,” Shane swallowed. “I should…be realistic.”

“Realistic.”

“If they let me back, I probably won’t get much time on the ice. My coach would probably avoid putting me on with any really strong players, since I’d be…”

A liability. The word sat on the back of his tongue, heavy and arid. That’s what his agent and coach had both called him, when Shane had asked two years ago if there was any chance he could play again. He was a risk that likely wouldn’t pay off, an extra line to the team insurance policy.

“And this would be enough for you?” Dr. Rozanov asked. His eyes, which had looked sea blue in the lobby, were icy under the exam room lights. “Little victory lap season? Out by March, maybe sooner?”

Shane swallowed, looking at his hands, still riddled with callouses and pale scars from his playing days.

Of course it wasn’t enough.

“No,” he finally said. “But I have to – “

“Be realistic. I remember,” Dr. Rozanov nodded. “If you did not have to be realistic, what would you want?”

“I want another cup,” Shane said immediately, the words pouring out easily now. “I want my C back. I want to score the most goals in a season, more than anyone else, more than my last record. I want to be MVP. I want to be the best again.”

Dr. Rozanov’s mouth twitched.

“And what would you do to get all of that?”

“Anything,” Shane said. “Literally anything.”

Dr. Rozanov stood, then, shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his scrubs.

“You are a very determined man, Shane Hollander. You will be a good patient.”

He nodded towards the door, beckoning Shane back into the hallway.

“Come. I will run your labs.”

[xohxoo]

This picture, WOW 🤩

[angelbabymikaa]

i wish someone had a crush on me *kicks rocks*

[delsicle]

One Direction is truly alchemical because when I think of them together I feel so warm and nostalgic and am overwhelmed with love and then I think of those men individually and my feelings range from polite fondness to multi year blood feud

[jesterlesbian]

feeling the need to be here again

[hudsonswilliams]

💋💋