I know I've talked about Ilya being frustrated he can't brag about pulling Shane but you know who else would be frustrated about not being able to brag? Yuna Hollander would be so frustrated that she basically has the two best hockey players in the world in her family and she can't even bring up that now she has TWO sons in the mlh and oh what is your son up to Sharon? Hmm that sounds rough that you have to send him money every month. She's in meetings, maybe there are other players agents and managers and they try to bond by putting down Rozanov and she wants to go "your client couldn't even touch Ilya's points per game. Don't fucking talk about one of my boys." and she's so pissed off by the interaction she gets that player removed from the brand deal.
So one afternoon at the cottage, Ilya has been in and out of the lake all day, excited like a kid, splashing around and clowning and fascinated by the wildlife and showing off for Shane. And after they finally head back inside and shower off the lake smell, Shane settles on the couch with a book and Ilya flops down with him, stretched out with his head in Shane's lap and whining until Shane frees a hand to sink into his hair. And it's been such a nice full day and it's all warm dozy sunshine and the lovely earthy nature smell that's everywhere around the cottage and Ilya has his face tucked into Shane's stomach where he can breathe him in, the familiar scent of his detergent and body wash, and Shane's big warm hand is in his hair and Ilya's pleasantly tired and drowsy and so comfortable that he just... drifts off, the kind of wonderfully indulgent nap that he never really gets during the season and finds hard to justify when he's in Russia for the summer.
But this year he's not in Russia, and he slips into this warm syrupy slumber while Shane pets through his hair (incidentally making a disastrous mess of his curls) and reads his book. When Ilya eventually rouses, with a happy grumble of contentment, nuzzling closer into Shane's stomach, he can feels Shane laughing gently at him almost before he hears it.
"Did you sleep well?" Shane asks, and that sounds warm and syrupy too, and Ilya rolls over so he can smile at Shane and revel in the smile he gets in return.
And then Shane says, "Are you hungry? It's almost dinnertime," and Ilya realises he's been lying here, napping and pinning Shane to the couch and wasting both of their time, for hours, and he jackknifes upright so suddenly that Shane startles back.
"Fuck!" Ilya spits out. "I was--fuck, has been so long. Why didn't you wake me up?" already guilty because Shane had wanted to make some pasta thing that he was weirdly excited about and they'd talked about maybe playing more Chel but now the whole day's been napped away and--Ilya sneaks a look---Shane's book is lying closed on the couch, bookmark set neatly aside, so Shane had finished his book and not even been able to get up to go do something else.
And he's just smiling at Ilya, completely unconcerned that Ilya's been idle and asleep and... and... lazy, all afternoon, just glad Ilya had a good nap.
Shane's frowning in mild confusion at him. "Why?" he says, genuinely not seeing the problem. "You were napping, it was nice. I mean, if I'd needed to pee or something I'd have got up but I was fine." He reaches out and smoothes some of Ilya's hair down. "Oh, the pasta. We can do that tomorrow, we have all that salad from lunch and rolls and there's peaches if we want dessert."
Ilya must have responded somehow because Shane beams at him and says, "Cool, I'll go set the table if you want to go wash your face." He smirks and pokes at Ilya's cheek. "Got a little drool there." And then he smacks a kiss on Ilya's head, gets up, and trots over to the kitchen while Ilya just sits there reeling.
Anyway it's really important to me that Shane dismantles all of Ilya's awful self-talk about laziness.
something iāve always loved is a whumpee with very rapid healing who never hesitates to throw themselves in harmās way, to act as a shield. Why shouldnāt they? itāll all heal soon enough, and sure it hurts, and sure some of these hits wouldnāt have landed anyway, but better safe than sorry. especially when theyāre first paired with a team that takes full advantage of this, then moved to a second team that, for some unknowable reason, cares about whumpeeās wellbeing
#390
content: team whump, guns, shot, immortal whumpee, hero villain whump, needles, past trauma, comfort
It was so easy.
It was so rewarding.
It was such a no-brainer.
Sure, it hurt for a little bit, but that was a small price to pay for being a literal meat shield that kept their teammates safe.
Wasn't it?
Everyone on their previous team took it for granted. That Whumpee would jump before a bullet, or a sword, or a dagger. They took full advantage of Whumpee's healing power, and there was never really a discussion about how maybe that wasn't all that ethical, how maybe heroes should've had a stricter moral code, and really, Whumpee didn't mind, Whumpee was just glad to be useful, it was fine if it hurtā
"Whumpee, move!" their new leader screamed, but it was too late. The bullet embedded itself in Whumpee's back, and they stifled a groan, knowing their new team would likely also think the noises were annoying. "Fuck! Everyone, pull back! Whumpee got shot!"
What?
Their previous team would've just carried on as usual. That was Whumpee's purpose: to take one for the team. To take two for the team. To take ten for the team. To take and take and take until they were nothing but a bloody heap on the floor, barely breathing, but always regenerating.
Before they knew it, Caretaker had picked them up in a bridal carry to rush them back to the team vehicle. But the battle wasn't over yet. Villain was still at large, and Leader and the team needed to stop them, and Whumpee was helping in that, they had done well, so whyā
"Shit, Whumpee," Medic said once Whumpee was gently set down on their stomach. "You'll feel a pinch ā it's a local anaesthetic. I'll need to dig out the bullet."
"Can you work while I'm driving?" Leader asked, already starting up the engine.
"I'll try."
None of this made sense. They abandoned an entire mission because Whumpee got shot, and now they were wasting anaesthetics on them?
"It's okay, Whumpee," Caretaker said quietly, just barely audible over the sound of the engine. They were holding Whumpee's hand like they were something precious instead of expendable. "I'm sorry this happened. You'll get better, okay? I should've paid closer attention to you out on the field."
"I don't get it," Whumpee finally said. They felt some pressure around the wound, but no real discomfort; they assumed the anaesthetic was working as intended. "Why are you all... Why are you..."
"Why what?" Caretaker asked gently.
"This is my role in the team. To take bullets. To act as a shield. This has always been my role."
Caretaker furrowed their brows. "Whumpee, what are you talking about?"
"With my previous team, it was all so natural. We never really had a talk about my role, but it was just... sort of obvious. I'd heal. They wouldn't. So I was cannon fodder."
Caretaker looked horrified. "You'd heal, sure, but it'd still hurt."
"I'm used to it."
They looked even more horrified. They squeezed Whumpee's hand. "Monsters, the lot of them. On this team, we look out for each other. Even if you heal. Even if you think it's useless."
Whumpee couldn't find the words to explain what they were feeling, so they kept quiet. But deep down, deep in their heart, there was something dangerous blossoming. Something they shouldn't have felt towards a teammate, or an entire team, when they knew their power made it so that they would always be required somewhere else. Maybe they'd be moved in a week, maybe a month, maybe a year. But they'd be moved.
watching the langdon/dennis scene is so funny knowing that langdon is probably completely unaware that dennis is trinity's roommate. like bro don't try to be all buddy-buddy with him the dude literally resides in the home of your #1 hater
Yāknow how some schools do a teachers vs students kickball game during the last week of class before finals? Yeah i think Ryland Grace goes fucking crazy during that. The UNESCO rumors get overshadowed by the time weather moved their game into the gymnasium, where Mr Grace punted the ball with so much fucking force that it took out one of the ceiling lights
Someone tell the kids the hot new trend is speed running the hospital Mitch McConnell is in to get proof of life. If they got that far into the scientology buildings just imagine what they could do
thinking about shane who in his late 30ās discovers that he might be autistic and kind of freaks out about it because heās already the gay hockey player and the asian hockey player he doesnāt also want to be the autistic hockey player with all the negative stereotypes it comes with but he finally confides in ilya one day and says i think i might have autism and ilya gives him a soft look and says yes i think maybe you do and at first shane gets a little angry at ilya because why does it seem like you knew? how did you know? why didnāt you tell me? and ilya says because i think you deserve to figure out how you feel without me plantning ideas in your head and no matter what you would still be my shane, trying to be all sweet about it and shane gives him a careful look and asks is that why you havenāt turned on the overheard light in 2 years and ilya sighs and nods
Something something, mission going wrong, Leader guiding half conscious and injured medic whumpee out of the field but all whumpee can think about is how the rest of the team is doing. Like, whumpee is the worst injured one and is still trying to do their job. Or was that done before, I dunno. (ā ā¢ā Ā ā ā½ā Ā ā ā¢ā ;ā )
#379
content: team whump, medic whumpee, loss of consciousness, aftermath of whump
"Everybody, fall back!" Leader yelled while supporting Medic off the field. The enemy had gone straight for them ā clearly, they knew who Medic was, what their role in the team was, and they had taken advantage of that knowledge.
"No!" Medic rasped, but it turned into coughing. They were coughing up blood. Even without medical training, Leader knew that was bad. "You can't compromise an entire mission because Iā"
"I said, everyone, fall back!"
"Okay," Medic gave in. "I have toā I have to tend to Whumpee's arm, that was a nasty wound I saw there, and I have to, I have to look at your abdomen, the enemy got you quite goodā"
"Medic, shut up," Leader said sternly. "You're not looking at any injuries when we get back."
"It's my jobā"
"Your job right now is staying alive," they said. "I won't have you arguing with me. I'm the leader for a reason. And you of all people should know better when to order bed rest for someone, even if that someone is you."
Medic coughed again. Leader felt them placing more and more of their weight on them. They were about to pass out, Leader realised in the back of their mind before Medic slumped against them. They picked them up in a bridal carry.
"Idiot," they grumbled as they swiftly carried Medic back to the team vehicle and laid them in the backseat.
"What happened?" Caretaker asked once they got back as well, and Leader just pointed to the unconscious Medic. "I saw the enemy fire a shot at them, but I didn't thinkā"
"You're driving. As fast as you can. The stupid idiot was talking about treating others even as they collapsed, so ideally, we need to make it to base and treat them while they're unconscious. If we don't, they'll fight us all the way."
Caretaker nodded. "Whumpee still isn't hereā"
"For fuck's sake!" Leader hit the top of the car. "Where are they? We need to move fast!"
"There," Caretaker pointed out timidly. There, in the distance, was Whumpee, stumbling towards the car.
"Caretaker, go and bring them here," they barked the order, and Caretaker was immediately off to help them while Leader stayed behind, guarding Medic's unconscious body. Once everyone was in the car, Caretaker took off, and just like instructed, they broke several speed limits on the way back to base.
Whumpee was sobbing all the way there. Medic had been right ā that wound on their arm was gnarly. "What do we do without Medic?" Whumpee asked hysterically. "My arm, I can't move itā"
"We do what we have always done before, before this team ever had a medic on board. We treat it ourselves," Leader said, constantly looking in the rearview mirror to see if they were being tailed.
"I don't know anything about medicine!"
"Caretaker will take care of it, then. But I don't have time for a breakdown, Whumpee, keep it together."
There was some mumbling from the backseat, and Leader immediately turned to Medic. They were mumbling the names of different medicines, half-passed out. They must've distantly registered they were talking about Whumpee's wound.
Leader pursed their lips. It would be difficult keeping Medic on bed rest. They might have to take out the restraints.
You know what would be a fun angsty PHM fic: the flu on Strattās Vat.
A small confined space like that, sickness would travel so fast and be so hard to contain, an outbreak could cause huge issues.
You know people like Stratt and Grace would try to work through it, try to manage the staff dropping like flies and the backlog as things stacked up and came to a standstill, yeah, a sick bug going around the Vat would be carnage.
