I do think ilya should have seasonal allergies and yet shane should SOMEHOW miraculously not
and listen it's not that ilya WANTS shane to suffer...
...
...but hOW IS IT THAT HE CAN'T HANDLE PEANUTS BUT THE FUCKING POLLEN IS JUST FINE?? RIDDLE HIM THAT.
and i feel like shane would get so much satisfaction out of being Designated Leaving The House To Do Things Person during this time so ilya can stay inside with the air filters
ok i'm still thinking about the branding thing. au where your soulmate leaves a brand on you in some way when you touch them - maybe their ring leaves a mark when you shake hands, or you both come away with marks from brushing arms on the subway - and they burn hot, just for a moment, just enough to make you notice. and shane and ilya both think they're fine because nothing happened when they met. they shook hands, and slammed each other into the boards, and kissed and touched and fucked and nothing. and it's perfect. until it isn't. until they both want more and want to stop wanting more but can't bring themselves to break it off despite the fact that they're both sure that any day now the other one will meet their soulmate. and it'll all be over. and then the tuna meltdown happens and then rose happens and ilya feels sick. constantly, every day, desperately wishing he'd been able to leave a mark on shane, that shane had left his mark on him. wishing even more desperately that he didn't want that. he's so sure that she's left her mark on shane that he almost doesn't go to tampa. almost comes up with some bullshit excuse. but he goes and shane walks into that bar looking so beautiful, his eyes and his smile and his freckles. and he's preparing to have his fears confirmed, but then shane says they weren't compatible. and he thinks he knows what it means and there's hope stirring in his belly, and when he finds shane on the beach and he asks for ilya's room number the hope crawls up his throat. but their thumbs brush and still nothing. no heat, no marks. and then up in that room, shane tells him he's gay, and ilya tells shane about his father, and shane kisses him and rocks him and just holds him. and when they finally fuck again it's slower and more reverent than ever before, and he flips shane on his belly and grinds into him slow and deep, leans down to whisper russian in his ear, because shane seems to like that, and his necklace lands on shane's shoulder. and it doesn't quite light up, not exactly. but ilya can see it. see when it goes hot and hear when shane cries out and comes, clenching around ilya and pulling him over the edge with him, and then ilya looks at the mark, traces it, kisses it, and shane whispers was that -?, and ilya doesn't really know what to say. yes doesn't seem like enough. nothing he could say does. he just lays his head on shane and nods. and feels tears prickling his eyes again. and shane pushes him off and goes to the bathroom to look and ilya's stomach drops again. he's sure shane is going to come back and tell ilya they can't. that he doesn't want him. that it must just be one sided. but instead he comes back and lays down and wraps himself around ilya, burying his face in his chest, and then ilya feels it - white hot, for just a moment. and shane sits up and they both look down and see a perfect imprint of shane's freckles right over ilya's heart.
laughing about the idea of shane in shallergies verse at an event having a reaction but not wanting to make a scene, so he uses his epipen, dabs his sweaty face as best he can with napkins, and then manages to go back and find ilya in the crowd and is just "heeeyyyyy" *literally holding onto ilya's arm bruisingly tight to stay upright* "hospital :)"
I wonder if, in the absence of a medical bracelet, Shane carries something like business cards that basically say "I am experiencing a medical emergency, please call an ambulance" and he's had to use them like twice and it's his actual fucking nightmare. whenever he ends up at a gala or a banquet or whatever he takes a moment to scan the crowd and identify a person who looks like they'd a) keep their head in a crisis b) not draw attention c) not blab on Facebook afterwards. he's figured out that a high-ranking employee (not a server or bar staff, a person with a clipboard and ideally a headset) is his best bet because they don't give a shit about him personally and they're more likely to have some kind of first aid/crisis training
but then he and Ilya are married and they're always attending the same events and he can just catch his husband's eye and give him the signal and Ilya will swoop in and get him tf out of there and he doesn't have to run all of these calculations and contingency plans anymore and maybe? actually? have fun?
the idea of the first time he's at an event and starts to do his "okay, who would help me if i need it and not use it against me?" scan and then realises-oh.
the idea of shane and ilya having the same ring size specifically because they could then annoy each other by taking the other person's wedding ring
shane having to leave for a week for a photoshoot and two brand meetings and ilya's pining getting interrupted by looking at the little dish where their rings live on their dresser, clocking immediately what's missing, and sending shane a "count your days, you fucking thief" text that makes shane grin before he gets on the plane with a little piece of his husband along for the ride
shane stomping into the centaurs' locker room right up to ilya, grabbing his hand, going "asshole," and yanking his ring off before leaving, which means everyone else in the locker room is 👀👀👀👀 is this?? divorce?? 👀👀👀 oh shit?? 👀👀 and meanwhile ilya is grinning because shane was about to turn the house upside down this morning before getting breakfast with rose trying to find his ring that he thought got lost when they had sex the night before since it moved across multiple rooms and didn't notice that ilya deliberately kept his hands in his hoodie pocket the whole time but also posted a selfie with his coffee on his instagram this morning that just HAPPENED to have a wedding ring on his finger in frame
ilya clocking when shane has hit a wall of Too Many Fucking Things Are Touching Me and slips shane's ring on his other hand
and if anyone notices and asks, ilya just 🤨 because i am so devoted to my husband that i need TWO wedding rings to show that i am doubly married?? 🤨 obviously?? 🤨 are you stupid? 🤨 you do not love your partner enough to be double married so people will know from every angle? 🤨 embarassing for you
and the one time they're not playing keep away with their rings is when shane just needs a little break until he's ready to be a menace again
My smol contribution to shallergies is that mangoes can be REALLY hit or miss ESPECIALLY when they're out of season and ESPECIALLY in north america, so I can imagine Shane buying his Illicit Mango, cutting it up, and tasting it, only to discover it was a Bad Mango. He feels personally betrayed. His hands are already red and itchy from the juice. Motherfucker can he not have ONE SINGULAR GOOD THING. There are times when he has especially bad luck and ALL the mangoes he picked are bad and he is literally already having the allergic reaction so he cannot go out and buy more.
Then, maybe one day hollonav get to the point where Ilya is resigned (aka understands it is Shane's choice to make) to The Mangoes, so it's the end of the season and it's Shane's Illegal Mango Time and Ilya (huffing and sighing and whining) presents Shane with a batch of precut, pre-tasted mangoes that Ilya visited like 3 separate stores to get. There are 3 in the tupperware versus the like 15 that Ilya bought to try, ranked for sweetness and juiciness etc etc. They are hands-down the best mangoes Shane has had in his entire life. This ranks amongst top 5 most romantic things Ilya has ever done for him. Ilya remains bewildered that he is getting kissed and thanked and blown because he is aiding and abetting Shane willingly poisoning himself every once in a while.
HI HELLO PLS HAVE FICLET BECAUSE I WAS INSPIRED BY WHAT IS INDEED THE MOST ROMANTIC GESTURE OF ALL TIME
Having his entire life implode around him has meant a variety of changes and plans and contingencies and conversations and contracts and discussions.
It has also meant reducing this year’s Mango Time to only one week to fit within all of his other obligations.
Naturally, because apparently it’s the theme of the entire fucking year, it also has to go badly. He had allotted himself three mangoes for the first day, but he’d ended up going through six in his increasing desperation to just find one fucking good one.
He hadn’t succeeded.
By the time Ilya–away for a photoshoot for a magazine and then a brand event and thus not here for Mango Time–calls, Shane’s mood has plummeted sharply in a way he knows shouldn’t be hitting him so hard.
And yet.
“Hello Mango Maniac,” Ilya says with fond resignation as soon as the call connects. “How badly-what’s wrong?” His levity drops in an instant. “Shane, what happened? What's wrong?”
Shane wonders if it's worse to answer and tell him the humiliating truth or just hang up. Knowing the latter would likely have Ilya on his doorstep within two hours, though, photoshoot and contractual obligations be damned, he answers, voice absurdly tight for such a stupid thing.
“My mangoes all sucked.”
Ilya blinks.
“I tried, like, six,” Shane says, feeling stupid and weak and ridiculous.
And itchy.
“And they were…not good?” Ilya says carefully, obviously a little thrown by what’s happening, which Shane can’t blame him for. He knows it’s beyond ridiculous, being upset because the mangoes were all stringy or bitter or astringent, but-
“It's not fair,” he says, scrubbing his arm over his eyes, hating himself and mangoes and allergies all together in a blend of hurt and humiliation at being so hurt over something so fucking stupid. “I already feel like shit, and it’s just going to get worse, and it was for nothing.”
As soon as he says it, he's aware it's not just something that applies to this year's shitty inaugural session of Mango Time.
But at this stage of things, being upset about the mangoes is easier than being upset about the Metros.
“I can't have fucking anything,” he says, scrubbing his arm over his eyes, knowing he sounds petulant and stupid but unable to help it, knocked down in this last little cosmic fuck you, offering him all of the price and none of the pleasure of his singular fucking vice. He eats clean. He trains hard. He follows the rules. He does everything right.
And he can’t even have the one fucking thing he lets himself indulge in knowing it’s not good for him.
It’s just not fucking fair.
“Everyone else gets to eat whatever the fuck they want all the fucking time, and I have to read every goddamn label and menu and ask every waitress and check every ingredient and be so goddamn careful all the goddamn time and never slip up because I could fucking die and-” He cuts himself off, looking away, like that’ll mean that Ilya doesn’t notice that he’s being a fucking basket case right now. “And I can’t even have a good mango,” he finishes miserably, voice small.
“I’m sorry you had bad mangoes, malysh,” Ilya says, and the sincere sympathy in his voice just makes him feel even worse.
Shane tucks himself down a little firmer on the couch under the throw blanket he’s under, primarily as a guard against him itching the way he wants to.
A price he’s paying for something he didn’t even fucking enjoy.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it’s stupid to-”
“Is stupid to eat something you are allergic to, yes,” Ilya interrupts. “But is okay to be upset, Shane. You do not have to apologize for this.”
“Okay, Galina,” Shane scoffs, but Ilya doesn’t take offense.
“Hey,” Ilya protests, faux-offended. “She is very smart person, and I listen to very smart people.” He lifts his eyebrows. “Just like other people could listen to smart people like, oh, I don’t know, their fucking allergist-”
Shane makes a face, but he does feel a little better, just having Ilya in front of him, even if only on a screen.
If he can’t have good mangoes, at least he can have a good boyfriend.
*
By the end of their first year on the Centaurs together, his and Ilya’s sex life has gotten sparse enough that when Shane is playfully told to close his eyes and hold out his hand after collapsing on the couch after coming home from end of season PT for his bad shoulder, he's expecting to feel the weight of his husband’s cock or a new dildo in his palm. It wouldn't be unwelcome, honestly. He’s already been making a list of everything he’d like to catch up on that he’s thought about but not had the energy to explore in the bedroom.
Instead, though, what lands in his hand is…tupperware?
He opens his eyes before he's told to.
“What’s this?” He asks, tilting the container up and then frowning when he realizes what’s in it, even more confused. “You're enabling my mango habit with pre-sliced mangoes?” He asks, suspicious, frankly, at this gesture from the president of the Jesus Fuck Shane Stop Eating The Fucking Mangoes Club.
“I am enabling you with the best mangoes,” Ilya corrects, dropping down next to him and looking distinctly pleased with himself. “You still should just stop eating the fucking mangoes,” a look, “but if you are going to keep making bad choices, it should at least be worth it. So: the best mangoes.”
“The best mangoes, huh? Promise?” Shane asks, both touched and amused at the grandness of the declaration. “What, did you hire a mango witch?”
“Would have been easier,” Ilya says wryly. “Then I could have not eaten so fucking many. I don't know why you-”
“You were eating them?” Shane asks, thrown, as he pops the top on the container, mouth watering immediately at the sweet, juicy, floral scent that wafts up to him, feeling hunger so intense it feels almost like arousal.
“Yes,” Ilya says. “For the first day of the world's most stupid annual event-”
Shane kicks him.
“-here are the best mangoes Ottawa has to offer. I bought five from five stores, and these are the winners of all 25 in celebration of the first day of Shane's Stupid Mango Time Cel-”
“You bought 25 mangoes?” Shane asks, incredulous. “You-wait, you also ate 25 mangoes?”
“After peeling them–which was the worst part, why do you have to love such a stupid fruit, huh?–I ate a piece from every single one, and these are the best. The others-”
He doesn't get to finish the sentence.
Not when Shane carefully puts the bowl of mangoes down on the coffee table, straddles his husband, and pulls him into a kiss so filthy it couldn't be aired on television were someone filming them. When he pulls back, it’s only far enough to rest their foreheads together. If his eyes are a little wet, Ilya doesn’t mention it, instead thumbing affectionately at the apple of his cheek.
“You got me the best mangoes?” Shane asks, voice a little rough.
“I would still prefer if you would just have healthy bad habits like normal people, like maybe getting addicted to cocaine-”
Shane snorts.
“-but this is what you like, and I know you wait all year for it.” He brushes Shane's hair back, stroking over his cheek before resting his hand along his jaw. “And last year was bad. So this year I am making it good. So you can have a good Mango Time.”
“Ya tebya lyublyu” Shane says, kissing him again, once, twice, three times.
“I love you, too,” Ilya says affectionately, ruining a bit of the sweetness of the moment with an appreciative squeeze of Shane’s ass before he nudges him off. “Now eat your stupid choices so both of us suffering can be worth it. Commence Shane Hollander’s Very Stupid And Bad Mango Time.”
Shane graciously ignores the slander of his holiday and climbs off of his husband to sit on the couch again. He reclaims the bowl and picks out the smallest piece of mango he can find from the beautiful morsels on offer, moaning without meaning to when he chews. Jesus fuck. It is a fucking excellent mango.
Ilya's look of pleased amusement at his reaction fades slightly into hunger of his own when Shane slides off the couch to his knees and reaches for Ilya's belt buckle, swallowing his bite of perfect mango and licking his lips as he lowers his husband's fly.
After all, sweet always tastes better with a little salty to go with it.
(And if he pauses mid-blowjob for another bite of mango, well.) (Ilya already signed the marriage certificate and can’t follow through on his threats to leave him.)
adhd executive dysfunction sucks bcuz im just sitting there and my brain is like
YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME
no work done no rest gained. literally no point of this at all
(to everyone who reblogged, donate and share @olagaza's initiative!)
A woman not shaving or wearing a dress or wearing makeup or wearing femme clothes or having styled or long hair or caring how she looks or using a masc name or whatever else is actually a neutral thing and not a sign of her being depressed or giving up or being sad or whatever
sorry but once you notice how often ppl use a southern accent as shorthand for being unintelligent you can never unsee it. classism is baked so deeply and why are you acting like anyone who talks the way my grandfather talks is stupid.
i know folks are gonna call me a pedo for this one, but i grew up seeing my mom and grandma naked. they had health issues and at times needed care and help showering. and i truly think more kids need to be shown the nonsexual reality of naked women at a young age. there is nothing sexual about my grandmothers breasts, they were simply body parts. more women die of heart attacks because people are too afraid of breasts to do real chest compressions, because they are scared to touch their breasts. the sexualization of our bodies literally kills us. i need people to be more normal about naked bodies and i'm 100% serious.
what people don’t understand about how adhd is disabling is that it’s not just getting temporarily distracted from, like, school work or hobbies. it’s getting distracted/being unable to motivate yourself to go to the doctor, eat regularly, do hygiene tasks, etc. it’s not knowing when or how long it will take you to do something, ANYTHING, and in many cases that thing is taking a shower or keeping your house from turning into a biohazard. it’s about being fundamentally incapable of controlling your attention and focus on anything, even and especially things you need to do to survive.
i love the “hollanov has a crush on carter vaughn” take not necessarily in a “i think they would invite him to watch” way but more in a “ilya would accidentally let it slip while chirping at shane to fluster him that vaughn is at the top of their ‘would’ list and vaughn is a little thrown off and straight so he’s like “are you guys asking?” and ilya laughs and pats his shoulder and assures him “absolutely not, i do not share my shane, we just think you are good looking man, i like that you are pretty and fun and my shane likes that you are serious about hockey and have good grooming habits. is not serious, do not worry vaughny we will not be asking you to witness me and my beautiful husband ever” and vaughn low key is overjoyed about it, his teammates who are around and hear the exchange are sometimes like “that doesnt bother you? you dont find that a bit weird?” but vaugh genuinely is just like “rozanov just called me pretty and fun enough to hang out with and hollander thinks im good at hockey and clean enough for him, you could hand me a nobel peace prize and it wouldnt come close to this achievement” and eventually it gets out to the general public so vaughn is captioning his instagram posts shit like “#1 contender for being the hockey husbands third goes fishing” despite shanes mortification about this getting out and vaughns clear delight with it” way
carter vaughn laying on his stomach near the center of the ice on the admirals side kicking his feet and holding his head in his hands while he blows kisses to hollanov during warmups.
shane is horrifically embarrassed by this and can not meet vaughns eyes or even his body, he refuses to look at him period.
ilya laughed for damn near 5 minutes and was doubled over coughing at one point fully crying, he is delighted by this and once hes through his warmups that shane wont let him skip he skates to center ice and does the exact same thing, kicking his feet in the air, blowing kisses, little finger waves, winking at vaughn. they dont say a word the whole time they just do these actions like flirting cartoon characters stuck on loop.
the centaurs are also delighted by this, despite the knowledge that vaughn is at the top of the couples “would” list this is the incident that earns vaughnny the nickname “boyfriend” among the team. they’re playing new york? will you guys be seeing your boyfriend? new york lost the game last night? hows your boyfriend taking it? someones family member is taking a trip to new york city? hey can you guys text your boyfriend and ask for recommendations for places to eat?
the admirals give vaughn as many opportunities to drag this bit up as possible because they find it hilarious, with the exception of scott who regards this whole thing like a curse cast upon him that will last long after his death. media days are the worst for scott especially because ever since the media learn about this stupid joke they’ll get questions about it. scott any comments on the rumors that your alternative captain carter vaughn is getting between the marriage of shane hollander and ilya rozanov? he is not, vaughn does not like men. scott is there any expected tension between the admirals and the centaurs at your game next week because of carter vaughns public flirting with the couple? should the media be expecting a fight between your alternate captain and the hockey husbands? i personally dont think you should be expecting a fight if he’s flirting with both of them, but this might become a thing for hollander and rozanov and i think vaughn wouldnt mind egging it on. scott do you think your co captain has a chance of entering a relationship with shane hollander and ilya rozanov and if so how would this effect the team dynamics within the admirals? i dont think vaughnny could handle all that even if he did like men.
carter vaughn starts getting chirped at about it, if its in a homophobic way he’ll note down the name and ask for a placement from hollander and roz, and the next game he plays against that player when they inevitably bring it up again he’ll look them dead in the eyes, give them their ranking, and why hollanov wouldnt touch them with a hazmat suit on. its his second favorite thing to do, and ilya is a strong fan of this game too. this gets added to the list of reasons why vaughn is hollanovs #1 choice because ilya enjoys it so much, and privately shane delights in someone else delivering his genuine thoughts on bad hockey players with awful habits so he doesnt have to be the one to say it.
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