the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be apart of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
one thing about sports rpf that sets it apart is that these aren't about supernaturally beautiful people like actors and musicians and kpop idols are which is practically a criteria for any media facing job; made to be aesthetically beautiful and trained to be charismatic. athletes are often charisma vacuums because they start so young and are hyperfixated on their sport and have no personality beyond it. most of them are actually quite plain looking. there's some notable exceptions of genuinely stunning face cards but most are pretty average and the ones that are considered hot are actually hot for An Athlete. now I know some of you are disagreeing vehemently, blorbo from sportsball is the prettiest of them all, but really it's cause sports fans have so much exposure therapy to them, seeing the same faces all the time over a year and engaging in media about them, that they start finding beauty in the mundane where when you get to know someone you realise they're actually beautiful to you. now there is a notable scale where the more popular a sport/team/athlete is, the more they have entire hair and makeup departments for magazine shoots and interviews where they are styled or at least aware of what hairstyle or way to carry themselves looks good on them, and that adds to their overall attractiveness. scale down and you'll see someone calling a male cyclist with fucked up teeth who looks like a product of balkan incest a gorgeous girl. and that's how you get novel length and often better quality written rpf about dudes who look like in every other life were destined to the local town's convenience store cashier bored out of his mind at a gas stop in between your road trip you'd never spare a second thought of again. and I think that's beautiful <3
whatās this i hear about a hollanov shower fic that explores shaneās locker room shower experiences vs his showers with ilya⦠sounds delicious
this turned into a fic rec/meta post about how hockey is sex but it's taboo to acknowledge that it's sex but also that taboo is itself can be sex. but i'm putting it under the cut bc some of the screenshots include homophobia including slurs, racism, and allusions to sexualized violence in the form of hazing. and also this is just long as hell.
i don't think i've read or talked about one exactly like that, though i have posted a little about how this bit in stickhandling by moonlitgarden really bodied me:
initially i was really knocked out by the framing of the locker room showers as this punishing place where performance of white cisheteromasculinity gets surveilled and enforced, so ilya making this open expression of desire in that setting is this shocking and compelling thing. and that's the aspect i've posted about in the past. but when i revisited it i was more surprised by the fact that the author doesn't actually put it a strict binary as i'd remembered it. they give us a spectrum from this chaotic torturous youth leagues environment (characterized by threatening scrutiny, so shane looks away to avoid being noticed) to the sterile, orderly, fully disciplined-into-cisheteromasculinity environment of professional locker rooms (characterized by routine devoid of any charge of any valence), and shane and ilya's desire lives in "an in-between" where you can look and have it returned. there are still risks but the risk is not that you might look and be punished but that you might look and like it.
obviously the locker room shower scene in the book (and consequently the show) is a locker room shower scene in part because it's a convention of the hockey romance genre, it's a natural fantasy setting within that genre. so it's also interesting to me when fics comment specifically on that fantasy aspect as diegetic. that is to say, it's a fantasy convention for us as readers, but it's also a fantasy for the characters. for example, this bit from from cut to the feeling by Charlotte_Stant. for context, this is a 13-going-on-30 type premise where 18-year-old, full-closet shane wakes up in his post-retirement married life and is trying to figure out how the hell he got there:
so here, the shower scene (which for textual shane is a fantasy scenario, but we know it to be adjacent to what happened in-universe) is explicitly impossible within the framework and precedent of his experiences in the locker room (an expression and realization of desire "in the showers [doesn't] make any sense"). part of that impossibility, the heightened imagery of steam everywhere, gives it this hazy visuality that puts it in this dream dimension. the focus on the steam is actually super interesting given the lack of dialogue (both here and in the sexual parts of the actual shower scene), since it gives it a striking similarity to a steam room cruising scene, both aesthetically and in terms of the unhesitant pacing, which is really only broken in the show by shane's "not here", this little interjection that pops the bubble of the fantasy by reinscribing the shower as a space where queer eroticism and sexuality can't exist (or at least be acknowledged), nor can it be enacted. not "no" (we can't be sexual together) but "not here" (we can't be sexual together in this environment, even if no one is here but us, whether or not anyone else is likely to come in).
in general i find it super compelling when people talk or write about a tension between hockey (as signified by its spaces, practices, and rituals) and queerness not just in a "you can't be gay......you play hockey" way, or even a "you're gay and also you play hockey" way, but with interest in the actual eroticism of the sport and its settings and sensations. hockey can be mostly set dressing in the books and the writing of the show and that's fine too, but it feels like a missed opportunity! and even in the fanfics, there can be a tendency to dismiss hockey as something that's tangential (particularly with ilya and the "ilya doesn't really give a shit about hockey" reading) or as exclusively oppressive/forbidding (with both of them but especially with shane and the "hockey isn't fun anymore and he's just going through the motions he's memorized" school of thought). i don't personally find either of these reads super convincing wrt the characters, but again, they also miss a lot of chances for exploration.
it's really interesting to take "hockey is foreplay for shane and ilya" (which we get in the show text) and push it to "hockey is sex for shane and ilya" (which we also get somewhat in the show text) and then land on "hockey is sex to begin with and the taboo of experiencing that honestly is both a source of tension and part of the charge". take, for example, this really fun little aside, again from cut to the feeling by Charlotte_Stant:
you get this fascinating tension in just a few lines. getting slammed into the boards? regular and not subject to scrutiny. watching old tapes of yourself getting slammed into the boards? regular and not subject to scrutiny. the thing left implicit, the thing that makes this factually accurate, totally anodyne description of what shane's doing into a tense, furtive little lie-by-omission is that it's hot to him. getting slammed and watching and thinking about it later is sexy. so the issue isn't the action (people are slamming and getting slammed, people are watching their tapes of it back) but the internal experience you have during and about it. what you're thinking while watching. how you feel about it. if you're only looking to think about the technique and gameplay, or if it additionally gets you hard or makes you horny. i think it's especially interesting when fic writers explicitly eroticize that taboo, that getting slammed while being reminded that it's disgusting to experience hockey as an erotic space is actually like the hottest thing that can happen to you, like in this bit from the world-famous-to-me trans girl shane fic dustbowl by thathastu:
not to be like "the source text!" bc whatever, this is fandom and i'm playing in the space. but there's a line in the books about how it wouldn't be totally unforgivable to be gay in hockey, but it would cross the line into "perverted" if people knew that the NHL's headliner "rivals" were "very familiar with each other's dicks", that it would be this freakish prurient spectacle if everyone knew shane and ilya were fucking each other when they're competitors. when shane comes out to his parents and his mom asks if he ever let ilya win it gets played off quickly ("do you ever let dad win at cards?") but that's the read, y'know? are you compromising the integrity of the sport for dick? is this just a perverted little sex game for you? are you thinking and caring about the right things when you do it, and if not, can you really be performing as you're supposed to?
and obviously the temptation is to be like "hockey and queerness are separate", or to argue that they can compartmentalize them and that it's reductive and homophobic to suggest otherwise, but i think that, idk, cedes some really interesting ground? is sort of an uninteresting read that doesn't do much to dig into the structure of the taboo? like basically the most simplistic queer theory reading you can get from the kind of sedgwick school is that modern homosocial relations between men, as in spaces like sports or fraternities, are fundamentally structured by a binary homosexual/heterosexual definition that requires the denial/rejection of homosexuality through which to build and practice acceptable bonds. so in sedgwick, you often get this triangulation through heterosexual competition (e.g. you relate intimately to a man through competing for a woman) but here you get, like. you relate intimately to a man through competing for The Cup. and it's fine if it's charged and intimate and you're totally devoted to it and it is the focus of your life. but if you even for a second say the quiet part out loud and acknowledge that it is erotic, that's a perversion of the intimate rituals and a violation of the rules of the space.
so the relief of it all is like, playing hockey is sexy to shane and ilya. beating one another and being beaten is sexy to them. beating other people when they're playing on the same team is sexy. it's taboo to find playing hockey sexy so you have to pretend it's not so no one will notice you're hard as hell about it, but the thrill of it is that when they're together, they both know. even if no one else does.
through that lens, yes, being two generational talents on rival teams is this source of scrutiny and surveillance that seems to make their relationship impossible. but it's also something that lets them connect with each other (sexually, mentally, emotionally) in a way that doesn't necessarily seem accessible for them outside of that context. shane and ilya being together allows them to sort of fully experience this erotic dimension of hockey that would be furtive and limited (or even closed off) to them otherwise. hockey has always been sex, but it's by being able to acknowledge it to each other that they're able to really give themselves over to this transcendent experience of it, and reciprocally to the experience of loving each other.
it's like that greta gerwig frances ha monologue but it's like:
and even more so, it's that little prose poem (written by someone who has since deactivated so i can only link a rb not the original) it's like
the thing that's been rotating in my head like a horrible little rotisserie thorn is that yuna says: i think we thought maybe you were gay.
we thought maybe you were gay.
we thought maybe you were gay as you grew up and became a professional athlete. rookie of the year. as you navigated this famously homophobic career path. as you tried to put together a public persona, as we guided you through sponsorships and brand deals. we thought maybe you were gay as we watched you, our shy and anxious and awkward son, as you grew into an isolated adult. few friends, no real romances. your mom still buys your shirts. you have always lived alone.
we thought maybe you were gay, but we didn't say anything.
i think - your mother, i - for a while now, we've thought maybe for a while now - we thought - we thought it, we didn't say it, never out loud - because that would mean we had to address it and that would mean we might be right. we kept our eyes down and our mouths shut and we know you so, so well, but we didn't ask and we didn't say anything, not even when scott hunter did all that right out there in front of god and the cup and everyone, and we let it slide off us and into history, past tense, and didn't look too closely at your reaction because we thought maybe you --
i'm sorry that i made you feel like you couldn't tell me.
because i did that. and i knew i was doing it while i was doing it. and i know that you know, now, that i knew i was doing that. i looked away so things could be easier for you because it's there's nothing to tell there's no need for a statement. no need for a plan.
and all this time, all your adult life, since your rookie season, the summer before, you've been in love - lovers - no, look at the way you look at him, you've been in love - and you've kept it secret while we made him your rival. pitted you against him. played up conflict and animosity against him. we sat together at tables with an empty chair where he should have been, where he is now, and hated him if we thought of him at all, and now you sit here and tell us you want to keep that secret another ten years, another fifteen because we made you think that this - this weight, this pressure, this fear we can see in the line of your shoulders and the way you breathe - that this is somehow easier.
you would have kept that secret another ten years, another fifteen. you aren't telling us now because you're ready, or because you want to. you're telling us because you were caught.
found out what, exactly? as if maybe your father was still going to keep that secret for you. as if he didn't tell me, not the whole of it. not everything he saw. as if you could have pretended you hadn't seen him, and he would have pretended he hadn't seen you. another ten years. another fifteen.
OKAY I need Heated Rivalry tumblr to settle an argument. In the show finale, does David tell Yuna what heās seen before Shane and Ilya arrive?
I believe he does, because otherwise her reaction to Ilya Rosanov turning up at her door would be totally different, and not a diplomatic little āfind out what, exactly?ā. But the Empty Netters guys and half my friends think David keeps it to himself and Yuna is going in cold.
It's a message of sorts, from someone who's been in a few fandoms that have turned into sour memories because of real-person shipping. If that's what the kids are still calling it.
I'm seeing something in the Heated rivalry fandom - a fandom that, by the way, made me want to be in fandom spaces again after many years. Because everyone (nearly everyone) is really fucking great, high on a ride of a lifetime with these sweet, smart guys who's lives our changing as we speak.
The thing is: I've seen this before. I've seen beautiful love for actors and their work turn into something ugly with the kind of curiosity that is happening regarding the Heated rivalry guys.
Now, being older than dust, I will tell you things that are actually honest.
I get it, right?
It's super tempting to go there. They have chemistry, they're playful with each other, they know what their fans want and seem to genuinely like each other. If they feed into the attention that gives them, good for them. There is so much joy in their interactions.
It's tempting to go there. It's tempting to imagine a story within a story of these guys being sweet on each other in a romantic, sexual or partner-like way, because romantic stories are the stories we tell best. (A failure of culture if there ever was one.)
It's fun to go there, too. Imagine it - they fall in love in an improbable way while filming about falling in love in an improbable way. Soulmates. And you don't like that you're thinking about it, but maybe you are, and maybe you linger a bit too hard on the way they look at each other, the not-yet fully formed personas of new famous people being the kind of emotional porn that is so rare in this heavily recycled culture where everyone's botox-laced mask has been on for a decade.
You would never actually like, stalk them. You're firmly in the camp of - if they're friends, that's amazing, I love that for them. But like, let me have a fantasy.
It's not wrong. You're not wrong to think that, you're just a product of a culture that sells creators to promote art. It's a topic so complex that I have a PhD in it and I still feel like I haven't scratched the surface.
Now, for the honest part.
I've been on both sides.
I've been deep in a fandom where there was years of speculation of two dudes playing a couple being a couple. One of them was a theatre kid who didn't want to comment on his sexuality. Played queer roles. (He also played Harry Potter in a fan musical, but there you go.) Had a girlfriend from college that was being erased from the narrative and hated. They're married with I think a kid now, over a decade later, and some people might still think it's a conspiracy. The other guy was actually gay, though he didn't want to comment on his sexuality at first and faced tons of bullshit pressure from the queer fandom, saying he should represent - at, I believe, 18 years old, self-proclaimed virgin at the time. Even when he got a partner, that partner was hated by many, because he broke the fairytale.
The two actors used to be friendly. Excellent chemistry. Slowly, they started to avoid each other, because every interaction was scrutinised. It was tense and ugly. They are not in each other's circle, despite going through a cultural phenomena together and quite literally writing queer history. It makes me sad.
(I had access to the files. I had access to archives of old interactions, of out-of-context stolen private posts from before they were a Thing. I looked for ways to fit them into a satisfying narrative.
I never messaged them. I never interacted. But my attention to the possibility did enable others. Because that's what attention does.)
I was also in a fandom where we were right. It took 16 years for the two guys to come out and say yes, we've been together and yes, we're gay. That whole time. But the attention traumatised them. Outed them in real life. Made them scared, made them stop creating content for years. There was so many leaks, so many hidden secrets, so many of these little crimes that stacked up and enabled sharing of everything, from dating profiles made at 16 years old to a private video confessing feelings in a tender, loving way, seen by thousands, meant for one.
I saw the video. Because I'm not better than anyone. I am way worse than most, or at least I was. I remember messaging with a person that sat down in front of their London apartment (address also leaked) for hours to see if lights turned on in both bedrooms.
It doesn't matter that we were right. Not leaving it be made coming out for them so much harder, made living life so much harder, and while it started from a place of love, how could that matter if it also created so much pain?
The HR fandom has the potential to be better.
But it also has potential to repeat history. In corners. Only in tiny corners, the curiosity is starting. Whispers. Investigations. Digging into a past that may never was. I see it.
Most people I see are outraged that this is happening. Criticising leaks. Saying let's not do that - like me now. Saying let's protect these guys' privacy, come on, they deserve a piece of themselves for themselves, they give so much.
But if you prioritise performative outrage to silence, you give it more attention. You help give it life. You make people curious, because they want to be outraged, too. They want to be in on the outrage, because that's a strong, addictive emotion in this sensory deprivation chamber of constant irrelevant content that is the internet.
It's about choosing not to scratch an itch. It's so much easier to avoid crossing boundaries if you don't know someone already has, especially if your conscience is only monitored by your computer and a silent living room.
If you see something that you shouldn't, my advice, as someone who doesn't want the temptation, is to report it. Don't say you had. Just do it. Alert PR if you can, sure, but reporting a post and then shutting the fuck up is so much better than feeding the fire.
I know this, because I used to just love engaging with it too much. I would send myself anons so I could talk about it - speculating, saying "maybe" and "we'll see", saying "stop being gross". But giving it attention and seeing how much people wanted me to do that, to keep doing that, because it was the kind of forbidden desire that has, coincidentally, started the whole HR phenomenon.
(It's built on the same recipe, right? That's why we have to be even more careful with where we allow ourselves to go.)
Loving things from afar is hard. Those lines are made up. But they need to be there. So my advocacy is for silence, or rather my advocacy is for loud celebration of what is most certainly true, which is friendship and generosity and craft. My advocacy is being better, because I've seen loving wrong really really hurt before, and the idea of it happening again to this amazing fandom breaks my heart.
OKAY I need Heated Rivalry tumblr to settle an argument. In the show finale, does David tell Yuna what heās seen before Shane and Ilya arrive?
I believe he does, because otherwise her reaction to Ilya Rosanov turning up at her door would be totally different, and not a diplomatic little āfind out what, exactly?ā. But the Empty Netters guys and half my friends think David keeps it to himself and Yuna is going in cold.