dippy :D

creating a DnD homebrew world that replicates genshin impact－ the most unholy combination

[dddreamscape]

Mutuals do this

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

You've heard of parallel play, now get ready for perpendicular play.

[no-sharks-on-the-sun]

[no-sharks-on-the-sun]

they killed him for this

[strange-aeons]

I’d like to expose my childhood self. I recently discovered your YouTube via one of those fake Tumblr post videos and was instanly filled with fear that i would see my own edgy teenager posts, some of which have over half a million notes.

So if you ever see this, or ever saw any of my posts back in the day (old url or was urieking). Just know it was all fake.

I’m mentally stable now 🖤

I have seen ALL of these posts over the years. Kinda surprised the laxative one never made it into any of my fake story videos. Thank you for your confession, child 🙏

[i-am-a-fish]

I am sick. this sucks balls. my will is made of iron but my immune system couldn't keep up. I'm going to eat a pop tart and sulk for the rest of the day

[shane-bug]

Idiots in love

[mlh-imagines]

[lavenderprose]

Ilya finds an odd picture of Shane in a photo album at one point. He's maybe three, he's sitting on the massive purple sofa that Ilya has discovered the Hollanders owned when Shane was born. He's frowning, red-cheeked and he's got a strange plastic case on his thumb.

"Yuna," he says, shifting his elbows on the table to point at it. "What is this on his hand? Was broken?"

Shane's head snaps up from across the table, where he's pretending that Photo Album Time is very boring to him and not worth paying attention to. He hasn't scrolled on the article he's pretending to read for over five minutes.

"I never broke a bone as a kid," he says, brows furrowed. "Not until U13, when that fucking kid from Guelph--"

Yuna and Shane both inhale quickly through their noses in what Ilya has learned to recognize as a moderative measure, lest they start yelling about something that everyone else on Earth has forgotten about.

"No," Yuna says, once her face looks a little less intense. "No, it wasn't broken. It was this...contraption that the dentist gave us to correct his thumb-sucking. He was so mad about it, we only put it on him a few times."

"Oh, Jesus," Shane mutters, eyes going back to his phone.

"Aw," Ilya says. "Poor baby Shane." He taps his finger against one little red cheek and laughs. "You really do look so mad, sweetheart. How did you make him stop?"

"Hmm...you know, I don't remember," Yuna sighs, tilting her head. "I guess he just stopped by himself eventually. Do you remember, Shane?"

"No," Shane says, shortly.

"Of course, that didn't get rid of the oral fixation," Yuna sighs, adjusting her reading glasses as she flips the page. "The things you used to chew on, Shane. Pens and straws and--"

"Mom," Shane snaps, while Ilya vibrates beside him. "Can we not?"

"I was afraid to give him popsicles because I thought he would gnaw on the sticks until he got a splinter in his stomach."

"Mom!"

"Well, honey, it's true! And you did outgrow it eventually, so it's not as if you have to be embarrassed."

"Oh, you did?" Ilya says, shoulders shaking. "You outgrew the, uh, oral fixation?"

"Stop," Shane hisses.

"Mm. Excuse me." Ilya stands from the table and sweeps out onto the back porch, though the sliding door does nothing to prevent the sound of his guffaws from floating back into the kitchen.

"You know," Yuna says, "I'm just going to assume that this is some kind of language barrier thing--"

"Please stop."

[clytemnestraaa]

shane hollander horny psychology is just “what if everything bad that happens to me actually felt good.” what if my autonomy was stripped away and it felt good. what if my body was objectified and it felt good. what if my desires and wishes were disregarded and it felt good. what if i was ashamed and it felt good. what if i was helpless and powerless and it felt good. like literally all he’s doing sex-wise is finding whatever terrible thing he is constantly forced to experience (total lack of bodily autonomy, lack of agency, lack of control) and going “well what if in this fantasy land i was incapable of being hurt. what if all these bad things happened and it all felt good.” like all his kink shit is just him trying to reclaim ownership over all the shit that’s already happening to him.

[shanehollanderholee]

luca haas panicking because the ottawa boys are placing bets on where ilya goes in his spare time & luca so desperately wants to bet that he drives to montreal to fuck shane hollander (thanks to his time in tumblr hockey rpf) but obviously he can’t due to his strict moral code and general bashfulness

[hollanovsoup]

shane hollander definitely has the kind of love language where he just starts quietly fixing things without saying anything

like he notices ilya is out of coca-cola and suddenly there are three new boxes in the fridge and no explanation

[citruspuddle]

average day in the hollanova household (im still trying to get them to date give their situationship time)

[lorevelvet]

Every time I get to the part where Shane walks into his parents place and he calls “hello? It’s me, Shane” I always expect him to continue with “Shane Hollander, your son”

[fatowlsdotjpeg]

A Character Study of My Hayden

whats up hookers it seems a vast many of you have expressed interest in MyHayden and if you'd like him to become OurHayden i would be absolutely, utterly, overjoyed. reminder, this is not canon! this is a version of hayden I Made The Fuck Up. My Source, Senator? My Beautiful Mind. If you haven't read my brief previous rambling on MyHayden, you can read that here! Im starting off with just his rookie year but if yall want me to continue let me know lmaooo

Right. Lets get down to business.

MyHayden's first complex emotion was fear. Before he could remember being anything, he remembers being afraid. He remembers being four years old and being terrified every year on his birthday because that made him one year closer to sin. When he turned eight, there were two weeks between his birthday and his baptism and one of his most formative childhood memories was being terrified during those two weeks. He has never been more scared in his life. He remembers Marnie, his older sister by almost eight years, desperately trying to calm him every night when he would wake up terrified. By the time he got baptized his relief was so palpable, he was certain it must be the holy spirit (and not the sheer force emotional manipulation can have on an 8 year old).

Every single one of his siblings went on a mission - even his sisters. His father was a bishop and each of them was more devoted than the last. His mother and father weren't unkind, but they were strict about their rules. They were staunch mormons who followed the good book to the letter. Every step out of line felt like leaping from a cliff to hayden. His most prominent childhood emotion was fear. Fear of not being good enough, holy enough, obedient enough. When he was younger, it was fear of the divine, but as he got older, it became more of a fear of others. Of his father and mother and older siblings. Of his community. Of what they would do when they found out he wasn't quite right. When they found out his thoughts strayed from how he was taught to think. How he was never going to be good enough, holy enough, obedient enough, to be with the rest of his family. His older siblings set perfect examples. They were all good, so what was wrong with him? why couldn't he believe? why couldn't he be enough? why wouldn't his God love him?

He was probably fifteen when he realized that the church wasn't just hurting him, it was killing him. He was going to end up dead, either drowned under the weight of his inherent failure or by his own hand. He couldn't breathe. He had played hockey for fun mostly, but that was the age he started to push himself. Here was something he could be good enough at. He was seventeen when he realized he might just be good enough at it to get out. He was eighteen when he ran from home in the middle of the night, after saving from after school jobs for two years. He ran two days before the draft, knowing his mission call was sitting in the mailbox. His relief at being drafted, especially to somewhere as far away as Montreal was from Utah, was the first time he felt an emotion stronger than fear.

He moves to montreal and he meets shane and suddenly there's another person who doesn't feel quite "right" in his environment. Shane never expresses it outloud, and he's certainly "right" when it comes to the hockey itself, but hayden can tell he feels like he stands on the edges of the locker room. He's quiet and inherently kind and decidedly not white and so hayden makes a promise to himself that they'll be friends. And for years, Shane always thinks that Hayden befriended him because he was a good guy, and he saw that shane needed a friend. The reality of it was that hayden befriended shane because he needed a friend. He desperately needed someone to tether him to this new life, to be some kind of tangible reminder that he got out. Someone who didn't know anything about him and wouldn't push. Shane was always grateful for haydens friendship, and hayden always expressed that he was grateful for shanes. hayden may have saved shane from a lonely locker room, but shane saved hayden from himself.

Hayden is also 18 when he gets a back tattoo. EVERYONE makes fun of him for it, they think it's either impulsive (shane) or ridiculous (everyone else). Hayden probably doesn't help his case by telling people he got it because he "thought it looked cool." But he was worried that people would ask about the now permenant lines across his back. not super noticable upon first glace, but years of leather hitting the same spot over and over, for every failure of his, for every falter, for every step out of line, had unfortunately left marks that no longer faded with time. The lines were white and thin and even though no one had noticed yet, hayden wasn't taking chances. So he got a mountian range tattooed and told everyone it was just some cool mountians, not the Uinta's, the only part of home he could think about without all of it coming crashing down on top of him.

but he's 18. and he made it out. and maybe he goes to bed every day thinking about his siblings. His mom and dad. maybe he covers the mirror in his bathroom unless he has guests over. Maybe he hates his stupid fucking stainless steel fridge because sometimes, if he's tired enough, he thinks it's Orson standing in the kitchen. Or Gideon, or John, or Hyram, or Brigham. Sometimes he even thinks it might be his dad. It never is. its always just him, alone in his house. But it's his house. There are no shelves lines with mission letters, no four books of joseph smith, no heavenly mandate on the walls. There is no sound of belts or prayer or shouting. It's quiet here. He made it out.

[someonecomegettheirchild]

I love the idea of Kip and Shane not getting along in the same way Hayden and Ilya don’t get along. But it’s made even funnier cause Kip is a sweetheart who dislikes very few people.

I think Shane already has his guard up because he’s jealous anytime Ilya makes any queer male friends and those two are too close for his comfort.

Then cut to the Long Game shenanigans, and Ilya is confiding in Kip about his and Shane’s relationship problems and (since he’s only hearing one side of the story) Kip’s immediately on Ilya’s side and that’s when he starts developing negative opinions about Shane.

Cut to the nail in the coffin for both of them being when Shane accidentally offends Kip about his PhD. Kip is describing what he’s doing his doctoral thesis on (something hyper specific like homoerotic depictions in Greco-Roman vases). And Shane (completely earnestly and not trying to be an asshole) says something along the lines of “so you’re doing 12 years of university to write about vases?” And Kip (who hasn’t slept since undergrad, is very defensive about his research, and is an extremely bitchy gay when provoked) immediately hits him with “and you’ve played hockey for 30 years just to not fix your backhand.”

[mojoscircus]

Kiss cam but it lands on Ilya and Shane during a face off. Ilya leans in and kisses Shane’s nose, hoping to throw off his game. But he’s surprised when Shane grabs his face and plants one on him, quick and hard. Shane was always ready to put on a show for the fans.

[hr-rep]

The vibe Ilya was prepared to bring to Tampa

[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.