Fandom middle aged. Meatspace middle aged. I don't care if you're in my lawn as long as you don't pull up the flowers. I tag poorly so this blog is "choose not to warn". Everything is queued and everything is here - multifandom etc. NSFW or minors but I'm not your parent. I lied about my age online too. I'm not judging. Very obviously USA centric because that's where I live. I will most likely not interact with you aside from reblogging your post. It's not you, it's me.
'personal adhd tag' and 'work whining' will be on like 75% of my personal life posts if you're just here for fandom.
A list of some the thinly veiled fictional adaptations of the Hollanov romance Ilya and Shane will live to experience. They never share the actual relationship timeline or many/if any pre-outing details but that doesn't stop these from existing:
It's the same but the fictional Hollanov are playing a different sport. They consider these lazy.
It's the same but they're lesbians. Starred Rose Landry as Lilya which definitely made them both feel a certain way. Honestly their favourite though.
The straight version. Why are they rivals? Why are they straight? Who thought to make a straight romance forbidden in hockey???? They're least favourite.
The one where they are magical fairies and their magical kingdoms are at war. Not convinced fairy isn't being used as a slur but points for originality, they grudgingly enjoyed.
The one that cared way more about the actual hockey than the romance, which they respect. Unfortunately the people they could get to do the hockey scenes aren't generational talents and so they disliked because it made them look worse at hockey than they were, which is a hate crime in itself.
So. Many. Porn. Parodies. Accuracy varies wildly because they refuse to talk about their sex life, they've shared enough, fuck off. Almost weirder when they get it right, though.
The incredibly chaste one where they hold hands and tearfully speak poetry to each other and their first kiss is their wedding day. They prefer the porn and would rather be called slurs to their face.
The one where they are UN Ambassadors for their respective countries. How often do UN Ambassadors actually meet? Do they have rankings? The missile plotline was wild. Shane did think the seriousness of the stakes appropriate, the Stanley Cup is that serious, actually.
The one that barely changed their names, and Pozenov has a really, really bad Russian accent and he is from an unspecified Eastern European country. They had to turn off, Ilya was infuriated. Shane is once again asking their lawyers if they are sure they cannot sue.
The one where they remove the romance entirely and it becomes rivals to friends who put aside their differences to save The Centaurs. Why? The closest Dane and Nikita get to each other is manfully clasping hands over the Gregory Cup. Obviously awful but does inspire Ilya and Shane to exclusively refer to each other as Bro for a whole week. Yuna can't bear it and does finally break and sue that one.
The Centaurs have a movie and book club exclusively reserved for these which is how Ilya and Shane know. They have never knowingly consumed fictional Hollanov content, though occaisionally get jump scared by the realisation that is what they are accidentally watching.
The Centaurs give them a report and rating for each, and this team tradition continues for decades, well after Ilya and Shane retire. Yes, they even write up and review the porn.
The tragic one. It takes place in the 70's and 80's and while it is very unrealistic how often the US and Russia play against each other, both the acting and the accents/Russian are really good. It ends with Alexandr defecting only for Robert to die of aids two years later. It makes everybody cry and wins several awards.
One thing I really like about movie!Stratt is her leadership style. Which, I think, is pretty distinct from her book counterpart.
Because, basically, I'm not sure I find it realistic that a woman (or man) appointed to this role would last long if she was terribly abrasive or confrontational. It would be counterproductive and distracting for everyone involved. (It serves a purpose in the book, but I prefer how the movie did it.)
Movie!Stratt creates the appearance of being very consensus-oriented. She doesn't even acknowledge the concept of power games or sexism for that matter. Authority doesn't live in confrontation or visible status markers but in the visible support and deference of everyone around her, because she made sure they are all pulling in the same direction to begin with.
She's absolutely has a lot of power but she's keeping it understated. Nothing flashy. Business casual, always moving, flat shoes, calm voice, always questions, honest answers. She's consulting the room (while leading the conversation), she is to the point but reasonably polite, she works in tandem with others, creates a sense of shared experience. "Applause!" Carl knows exactly when to jump into the conversation while deferring to her authority, "Talk to her", "Just answer the question", "I would take the three". He clearly really knows her and can pick up his end of that game. The "We don't know" chorus. The "What's the alternative" centrifuge discussion. "Thank you so much" to the underling with the coffees. Seemingly flat hierarchies.
She lets people talk and then gleans what she needs. She gives credit.
Her job is to make the decisions and take responsibility, to keep the momentum going. People are unsurprisingly okay with handing it off. She points, they march.
No one considers opposing her because they all trust her. Because they feel involved in the process. It's not hard to ask, after all, when everyone knows what it's for.
Even in the end, she has the entire team on her side when confronting Grace with his choice. Because none of it is about power or ego. Only about the mission.
The lack of future international cooperation gets her most emotional utterance out of the entire film. "Which they won't."
At every point she is pulling for a team effort. And it works. (Except one time.)
Gotta translate the sports terminology into words people understand: "free agent" means "unemployed"
"But how can Ilya just decide to work for Ottawa? Doesn't Boston have to trade him?"
He doesn't work for Boston anymore. He signed an 8 year contract or whatever. All those years have passed. His job contract has now ended. He's unemployed. His ex boss has no power over him anymore.
shane genuinely likes anya very shortly after meeting her, he doesn't just begrudgingly put up with her presence for ilya's sake while hoping he'll get rid of her. he canonically thinks to himself he likes dogs more than he thought he did. so if it's less shane going out of his way to get a dog because he wants one, and more just. a situation that happened to him, then i think it's totally plausible for him to have his own dog
so he's 15 ok. a neighbor has pups and is looking for good homes, david figures it'll be good for the family, yuna agrees as long as they get proper puppy training, and shane just goes along with whatever. so they end up with puppy that's smart and very easy to train. very cute. when she gets a little older she's shane's consistent running buddy and she prefers a strict routine just like him, and for whatever reason she very much chooses shane over his parents, like in a blatant way. at that point i don't think shane would be like yeah no i don't want the dog, mom and dad you keep her. i think it'd be more like, okay i'm moving to montreal and i'll be traveling a lot for work, you guys keep her so she has company. and then several months later he'd be like well maybe she can stay with me when i'm here and you guys come out and pick her up before my trips and i pick her back up next time i'm in ottawa. and then a few months later hey maybe she can just stay here and i'll get a pet sitter she can stay with when i'm gone.
shane has the capacity to love a dog on his own, it just probably looks different from someone who is a "dog person," and i think that does actually align with canon
(not to mention, easiest excuse ever to leave early from or entirely get out of social gatherings he doesn't want to attend. i think shane would appreciate that so much)
(as she gets older and has some joint pain she can't be his running buddy anymore but there's a place he can take her where he can buy an hour of private pool time so they can swim)
(she gets along with everyone but more like in an aloof way where she will acknowledge their existence and then go about her day. shane is the exception, she will give him her full attention if he wants it)
(i saw multiple cute names for this hypothetical dog. personally i thought maple, because i imagined her as a red golden retriever and because it's so canadian it would make ilya laugh)
“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters with amusement. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
the thing here is of course that it worked. it worked, so she has to do it again. she has to send him again. she's not even going to save dubois and shapiro, she's not going to save yao and ilyukhina, she's not changing anything, it worked.
except maybe she adds some supplies, to the ship. increases the amount of food, includes some organic compounds. more painkillers. and maybe she spends more time in proximity to grace. not working with him, not talking to him, just doing what she'd be doing anyway, what she's already done, with him in her line of sight
and he notices, because that's his job. was his job. that was the point of him, to know her well enough to notice something has changed. and he doesn't say anything, isn't going to say anything, and in fact maybe nothing gets said. neither of them say anything and the lab explodes and she sends him to die and she waits and waits and waits and the beetles come back and he doesn't. and then she wakes up again on an aircraft carrier off the coast of china
and it WORKED. and she's here AGAIN, because maybe this is just what happens to you when you are the final signature on a mass extinction event. maybe this is her penance. maybe the world continues on without her, warmer and brighter, but she has to stay here in the worst of it and hold it all together.
she did better. she tried. she knew more. once she'd killed him, once he was out her reach, she could change more. maybe less people died. maybe different people died.
she looks at him as long as she's able and she packs him more vitamins and she doesn't say anything and the lab explodes and she waits and the crops fail and she waits and the wars start and she waits and the beetles come back and she wakes up again on an aircraft carrier and she rolls over to press her face into the mattress and she screams
the fifth time, she promotes him. six months from launch, that's when she wakes up, and she gets out of bed and gets presentable and walks to his door and says You're the primary science officer now. and he says What? No. No, it can't be me. and she says It has to be you. and she's not trying to do anything with her face, with her voice, but something must happen anyway because he looks at her and says You're sure? You're really sure? and she says It should have been you from the start. and he says Okay, let me– Gosh, okay, I have been awake five minutes and all I've eaten since yesterday is candy, but sure, yeah, I'll go on the suicide mission. Are you– We're getting breakfast, c'mon.
she packs him vitamins. she looks at him. he gets mildly obsessed with a different c-drama every time, somehow. maybe that's the linchpin, maybe he just has to make it through them all. she fills a harddrive with them. she tells him she's never been more sure of anything than she is of him. she waits and she waits and she waits. the beetles come back. he doesn't. she wakes up on an aircraft carrier.
she stops the lab explosion. she keeps him out of prison by the skin of her teeth. the beetles don't come back.
she lets the lab explode. she lets him hate her for killing him. she's going to be older than his alien, soon. she's on the aircraft carrier, watching him breathe, for six months. and then she's waiting, and waiting, and waiting, for twenty seven years. twenty seven years is too long for any neat little montages of her catching things before they fall. the weather isn't even the same. it depends who wins the war for the sahara. she's sisyphus, she's prometheus, she's atlas. she kills her only warmth and it gets colder and colder and colder until she wakes up again and there he is. maybe it's a gift. six whole months of him breathing
she wakes up on the aircraft carrier and she lets herself lay there because he comes looking for her after half an hour and she sees his face and she says Oh, it's good to see you. and he narrows his eyes and leans forward to press the back of his hand to her forehead, and he's never done that before. he grabs her arm, he taps her shoulder, their fingers brush when he hands her something. that's it. that's all. it's like an electric shock, his hand on her forehead. his worry. she's going to kill him and he's worried she's running a fever. she doesn't deserve six months
he says, What? she says I'm fine. he says You can't wave a get-out-of-jail-free card at a contagion. You should go back to bed. she says No, I should get to my meeting. he says Oh I already told them you're not coming. C'mon, sleep another two hours. I'll find you some soup.
and she says I keep killing you and you never make it any easier. Why do I keep getting you back? and he says Why am I here at all? and he doesn't remember, he's just far too willing to follow her anywhere, and she doesn't want to lose him. she has to. she says It has to be you. and he says If you're sure.
i just think it'd be funny if shane had a dog for years and ilya didn't know because shane never posted or talked about her so when he goes to his apartment for the first time ready to finally get that ass, they have their flirty little conversation by the dining area, shane is leading him to the bedroom, and then ilya glances in the living room and is absolutely thrown by the presence of this polite senior retriever who briefly looks up from her dog bed wags her tail once and then goes back to sleep and he's like ???? hollander wait stop you have a dog? and shane's like yeah, bedroom's this way.
I think I have a pretty good body for someone who miscalculated this planet’s dominant indigenous species and had to construct this form as a last-minute assimilation effort.
dededos
origamiaround
snowghoul
romaincrisis
izzy806
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
