Cerise

[shanesleftskate]

ilya in slutty little sunglasses pulling up in his stupidly expensive god awful green lambo to pick shane up after some event, rolling down his window and lowering his sunglasses to look shane up and down and say "need a ride?" and shane rolls his eyes so big cause he know's ilya's not talking about the car, but he gets in anyway and when ilya revs the engine and peels out of there shane is smilling at his gorgeous silly husband

[tinylilhollander]

Ilya's insomnia gets really bad and he's stressed because it's affecting his hockey. And okay Shane would be lying if he said that that part didn't worry him too – he wants that cup so fucking badly – but it's mostly because he knows Ilya gets worse if his hockey suffers because of his mental health stuff. It's a vicious cycle. So he needs to get Ilya to sleep.

He's really desperate one night. It's like 1am and Ilya hasn't been able to settle down. He suddenly remembers how his mom said the only thing that would get him to sleep as a baby was taking him for a drive so he tells Ilya to put on a hoodie and some shoes, they're going for a drive.

And Ilya is swooning because this is so romantic and spontaneous for Shane. A midnight drive – he's feeling so romanced. Shane puts on some soft music, not what either of them usually listen to, but nice, and they drive through the streets of Ottawa, Shane pointing out places from his childhood that he's already shown Ilya but that Ilya always loves hearing about.

It takes about half an hour, but before long Ilya is completely conked out, snoring softly in the passenger's seat. Shane drives them home, lifts Ilya out of the car, and carries him to bed, taking off his shoes and tucking him in.

Ilya is very confused when he wakes up what feels like minutes later (but is actually after 6 hours of sleep) for their morning workout. Shane is already awake, brushing curls out of his eyes.

"Morning, baby. Did you sleep okay?"

"Really good," he says. "Sorry, I think I fell asleep in the car. Did you carry me to bed?"

"Yeah." Shane shrugs like it was nothing, but Ilya can tell he's so pleased with himself.

"Hot," he says, pressing a kiss to Shane's chest. "So fucking hot."

Shane gets that look then. That one that Ilya means that they might be late to practice.

"If we go fix our morning breath quick, I've got a few ideas for our workout."

And even though Shane's ideas are very very good, so good Ilya doesn't really want to leave their bed, they even make it to practice on time.

[okoyestrainee]

Shane realizes how much he’d gotten used to being mistreated when none of the Centaurs so much as glance at him during a random bar trivia night.

It occurs to Shane that the Metros are a walking, talking, sentient amalgamation of microaggressions. Or just plain aggressions, honestly. He knows his team—his former team. He knows that after a few drinks, Comeau couldn’t be trusted not to ask JJ whether he sacrificed chickens for voodoo rituals. He knows the rookies would ask him what wait staff at Chinese restaurants were saying, despite multiple reminders that a) he’s not Chinese, b) the people working here aren’t necessarily Chinese, and c) someone speaking another language doesn’t mean they’re talking shit about you. He knows at least three of his former teammates would randomly stick a hand in JJ’s hair and ask if he could wash it “like normal people.” He knows that Hayden (well-meaning and generally receptive to criticism, but still lacking in some areas) would direct math questions his way, like he was a human calculator.

Sitting with his new team, with Ilya slightly tipsy and completely relaxed at his side, Shane realizes that he’s just…a guy. He’s any other guy at the table. No one’s checking for him, with him, or on him in particular. When a science or math question comes up, they’re not deferring to him for the answers because he’s Asian and they assume he’s a STEM whiz.

He is, to be clear. He’s an everything whiz. Shane was a straight A student in school and could’ve gone to any university of his choice had hockey not been his goal/passion/obsession. It’s just not because he’s Asian—it’s because Shane Hollander refuses to give or be anything less than his absolute best at anything. His perfectionism runs deep and is quite possibly genetic (yes, Ilya always says, because I have seen how you and your mother play board games), but it has nothing to do with being Japanese.

“Okay,” Bood mutters to himself as he reads the clues again. “Genetic disorder, shortens lifespan. Featured on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and associated with…stones?”

“Stone disease,” Ilya considers aloud. “That sounds familiar. F-something?”

“Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva,” Shane and Wyatt say simultaneously.

The table goes silent for a moment before erupting into laughter and questions.

“Why and how do you know that?” Harris shouts over the ruckus. “Who just has that knowledge ready to go?”

The questions are directed at just Shane. The table assumes that Wyatt—known nerd and husband of a physician—can pull random medical knowledge out of thin air on command. Nobody assumes that Shane’s supposed to know everything. Nobody’s disappointed when he doesn’t have the right answer and saying “I thought you guys were supposed to be smart” if he can’t answer a math question correctly in 5 seconds. Harris is genuinely amazed that Shane pulled the answer out of nowhere and curious about where he learned it, instead of just rolling his eyes and saying something like “of course he knows.”

He shrugs. “I fell down a YouTube rabbit hole once.”

Ilya laughs loudly and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “We should play doctor later. I have this problem with my di—“

Shane shuts him up with a kiss and makes a mental note to invest in scrubs. For science. Again, not because he’s Asian. Because he’s horny and creative.

[cottagehillsunset]

Hollanov daughter who has trouble sleeping and nothing seems to work. She's been fed and changed and carried and burped and sung to but their baby girl just keeps crying and it breaks both of their hearts.

Which leads to Shane calling his Dad at like 11 PM. And David just hears a soft "Dad" in Shane's trembling voice and he's out of bed, no questions asked. "I'll be over in twenty minutes, bud", he promises as he grabs his car keyes.

Both boys look absolutely wrecked when he enters their house twenty minutes later, hair a mess, dark circles under their eyes, clothes with tear stains. So David just nodds to himself. "Alright, let's go for a drive", he says, calm and steady, as he ushers the three of them to his car, both Shane and Ilya too tired to protest. He makes sure they're both strapped in on the back seats, their daughter secure in Ilya's arms, before pulling out of the driveway.

Not even ten minutes into the drive everyone on the backseat is sound asleep. Turns out the driving trick works wonders on Hollander-Rozanovs of all ages.

[sabotage-on-mercury]

The Ottawa Centaurs franchise takes part at a local pride event and Harris makes it clear that attendance is not optional, not when they are literally the queerest team in the MHL and he looks at Shane in particular. Because, while Shane is at peace with being gay and supports the importance of queer rights and representation, he still doesn't like being reduced to his sexuality in the eyes of the public.

Of course they all attend, and, as per usual, Shane and Ilya stick together as close as humanly possible all the time, but at some point they do get seperated for a moment as they get called to sign rainbow jerseys and take pictures with kids.

Ilya starts looking for his husband - he gets fidgety like a chihuahua with seperation anxiety when Shane is out of sight for too long, a fact that he conveniently avoids talking about in therapy, as he knows that Shane is not much better, so obviously they are both perfectly fine and well adjusted.

Anyway, he spots Shanes scribbeling something as he is standing next to a participation wall that is covered in colourful sticky notes where people write their thoughts for the question that is printed in big letters on the top: "What makes you Proud?"

Ilya's immediately sprints over to Shane because that is NOT the time and place for his sweet and lovely husband to write "being a olympic gold medalist, world champion and four times stanley cup winner :)"

He reaches the wall, just as Shane is ready to turn around and leave; a big smile hits Ilya like a ray on sunshine as Shane spots him.

"Solnyshko", Ilya wraps his arm around Shane's waist and presses his forehead against Shane's, allowing himself a moment to revel in the relief of having his Shane back, before turning them both back towards the wall. "What did you write?", Ilya asks and carefully trying for a carefree tone.

From the side, he can see a blush creeping up Shane's cheeks and he looks so cute, flushed and freckled and Ilya wants to eat him up and- omg Rozanov get it together, Shane being so pretty really fucks with your concentration.

"You know, just the normal stuff", Shane mumbles and tries to turn around, but Ilya presses his body even closer to his side - not that Shane fights against him really hard.

Ilya scans the wall, taking in the heartwarming messages of people being proud of being out and happy and living their best lives, of finding joy in their communities, of embracing their identities, of finally being comfortable in their bodies, of fighting for their rights and through hardships, of celebrating life and joy. And all this joy is so much and wonderful and it makes Ilya's knees wobbly and he is once again very lucky to have Shane to lean on.

And then, right under the "What makes you Proud?" print Ilya spots that purple sticky note, covered in chicken scratch. Obviously the author tried very hard to write neatly on this one, but still, it's unmistakably Shane's writing.

Ilya's breath catches as he reads: "My husband. The strongest and kindest and funniest person I know. Who takes care others and of himself, every day. Who loves life and makes mine so much better. I love him."

Ilya reaches for Shane's hand. It is barely Shakespeare, but the sheer earnestness of Shane's note make him feel like being checked into the boards, his knees really are close to give up now, his fingers seeking purchase in Shane's flesh it must be painful and he let's himself be hold by Shane's solid and warm body.

Of course he knows that Shane loves him, he tells Ilya every day, and he knows that Shane is proud of Ilya for going to therapy, for being a good captain... but reading it, here, and for everyone to see?

No, Ilya does NOT want to cry about it, not before he's got his mouth on Shane's cock and then fuck them both to tears afterwards.

For now he presses his nose in Shane's hair and whispers: "Kindest person? Seriously? What have I have done to be insulted like this, Lyubimyy?"

"What the fuck, Ilya?" Shane's face scrunches up in that adorable way that makes it hard for Ilya to suppress a smile.

"No it's true, ask entire league. They all say I'm biggest asshole. I worked very hard for that reputation."

"Oh don't worry, you earn that." Shane huffs.

"See, even my husband agrees."

Then Shane turns his head around just enough to eye Ilya with this open, soft glance of his and Ilya knows already his heart will give up. "Yes, you are the biggest asshole, but you also have the biggest heart. And I'm very proud of you, baby."

No need to say, Ilya and Shane disappeared pretty quickly from that event afterwards, but not after Ilya snapped a pic of the wall with all the sticky notes.

[feralpuckbunny]

Something something college au Ilya gets set up on a blind date by svetlana but very much is not interested and Sasha had been wanting to go to the restaurant they were supposed to meet at so Ilya tells him to go as him but be obnoxious so he can tell svetlana that it didn’t work out.

The next day svetlana barges into his room asking him wtf his problem was. Ilya tells her he tried to warn her he didn’t want to go on any blind dates. Svetlana says Jfc she thought getting Shane to agree to meet Ilya would have excited him

And Ilya freezes because wait what? What do u mean Shane? Shane Hollander!? The captain of their university’s hockey team, best friend to svetlana’s gf rose, and the guy Ilya has been flirting with and pining after for the past two years Shane Hollander!!!????

And svetlana realizes Ilya didn’t even show up if he had no idea it was Shane and Ilya is freaking out because WHY DIDNT YOU JUST SAY IT WAS HIM and svetlana is like I WAS TRYING TO DO SOMETHING NICE FOR YOU and Ilya feels like crying ITS OVER FOR ME SVETA TAKE ME OUT BACK AND—

So now Ilya has to convince svetlana to talk to Shane for him or get him to agree to meet so Ilya can apologize profusely and start applying his 15 step plan to get Shane to fall in love with him

(It doesn’t start great bcuz Shane actually knows who he was supposed to be meeting and he also is half in love with Ilya but when Sasha shows up Shane gets the hint that Ilya has absolutely zero interest in Shane and sent someone else to make that clear)

[evilbeehivedemocracy]

Firm believer that Shane is high maintenance because David spoiled him his whole life and though he didn't always know his son would end up with a man he still wanted to be the kind of dad that set an example for his kid of how a man should treat them regardless

[cottagehillsunset]

Hayden always gets emotional when his kids' birthdays are coming up. So Shane isn't surprised when he opens his phone to 15 new pictures of Amber when she was a baby the week before her fifth birthday.

"Look how tiny she was!", Hayden texts, followed by another handful of pictures of teeny tiny Amber. And Shane loves his nices and nephew, has always cherished that he gets to be Uncle Shane to them and watch them grow up.

"Cute!", Shane texts back before he scrolls through the pictures one by one. It has been ages and at the same time five minutes since Amber, now gap-toothed and, last Shane saw her, wearing a mud soaked bumblebee dress as she was kneeling in the garden orchestrating a tea party for the frogs in the Pike's pond, was barely old enough to hold up her own head.

A new message from Hayden comes through, though this time it's a video. It's taken from outside Amber's nursery, the hallway dark. The soft light from her various nightlights offers just enough to show the outline of Shane, holding Amber in his arms and swaying slowly from side to side as he's singing softly in French.

"Teething gate!!", Hayden writes. "Saved my ass back then, only thing that got us through that evening. Still a legend for busting out the singing, bud."

And yeah, Shane remembers. He'd come over to help Hayden with the kids, giving Jackie a break now that her husband was back from his roadie, allowing her to get a full nights sleep again. He remembers the bone deep exhaustion when nothing they tried helped with soothing Amber. He remembers Hayden, close to tears, heading downstairs to get one of the teething rings they kept in the freezer in the hope that maybe this time it would help soothe her pain. And Shane had stood there, holding a softly hiccuping Amber in his arms, heart breaking for her and wanting nothing more than to take the pain away.

And suddenly he'd remembered his dad holding him in his arms when he couldn't sleep, mind too loud and running a mile a minute even as a kid, carrying him through their house and singing softly to him.

Shane didn't realize until now that Hayden had recorded him singing.

He's brought back to the present by Ilya nudging his thigh with his foot. "What are you watching?", Ilya asks, his own phone lowered to his chest.

Shane can already feel his cheeks heat up. It's not as if he makes a habit of singing and he's pretty sure he has never sung near Ilya, let alone told him about it.

"Nothing", Shane says quickly. He knows it's to no avail when Ilya raises his eyebrows at him.

"You have been starring at your phone for past ten minutes. Looks very interesting for video about nothing", Ilya says.

And so Shane ends up showing the video to Ilya. He has heard him anyway and there's this curious glint in his eyes that Shane knows well enough by now. He's not going to let it go so might as well go full in.

Ilya's eyes light up when he realises that it's Shane who's singing, in French no less. He insists on watching the video three more times and begs Shane to send it to him afterwards.

Of course, he also looks up the original song. "It's a good song, but you have much prettier voice than her", Ilya tells him after listening to the tong for the first time, leaning up to kiss his jaw. Shane pulls him close, hand automatically finding Ilya's curls as he makes himself comfortable on Shane's shoulder. He kisses Ilya's forehead, listening as the song starts anew.

They listen to it in silce for a while before Ilya asks, "Why this song?"

And, well.

"My parents played it once when I was over at their house for dinner", Shane starts. Well aware that Ilya will want to know more than that, Shane tries not to focus on how fast his heart is beating as he continues. "It's, uhm, a love song. It's an old song, the singer sings about how she misses her husband when he is out at sea, watching the storms that pass by. She always waits at the shore, watching as the boats come back in, looking for the boat where the sunshine illuminates her husband's blonde curls, bringing him and the sunshine back to her."

Shane resolutely stares at the point just above the TV as he mumbles the last part, cheeks aflame.

Ilya sits up from he was resting against Shane, softly taking his chin in his hands to turn Shane so he's facing Ilya.

Ilya waggles with his eyebrows. "I did not realize you were so in love with handsome blonde sailor, Hollander", he teases, laughing as Shane shoves him away with an eye-roll and a "Fuck off, asshole!"

They both know there's no heat behind either statement, not when Shane immediately pulls Ilya close to him again and Ilya lays his head back on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to Shane's throat as he does so.

Shane knows Ilya has long put one and one together, has figured out why Shane might have been drawn to a song about waiting for your loved one to return to you. Has figured out why Shane would sing a song about a man with blond curly hair. Knows they both remember when waiting meant months and sweing each other for a handful of hours, a couple of days if they were lucky. Feels it in the way Ilya presses against him, the way he himself holds Ilya close with no intent of letting him go soon.

Again, it's Ilya who breaks the silence. "Shane?", he asks, quiet and without a note of teasing in his voice. "Would you sing it to me? My song?"

And Shane has never been able to withold Ilya anything he asks for. Neither of them mention the fact that Ilya called it his song. After all, the song had been Ilya's long before Ilya had become Shane's.

And so Shane once again holds a person he loves close to him, closes his eyes and starts singing.

[cottagehillsunset]

The Raiders are sitting in the airport lounge, waiting for their flight to board after their game against Montreal. And right accross from them is one of those big posters from Shane's Reebok campagne. Ilya is playing a game on his phone (no, it's not to distract him from the giant Shane Hollander picture right in front of him, obviously not). Meanwhile Cliff looks at the Reeboks - they do look kinda nice, he has to admit - and then down to his own sneakers, which are a bit ratty and he could defnitely do with buying a new pair. And he's thinking about how convenient it must be to be sponsored by a shoe brand because it saves you the hassle of having to reaplace your old shoes. Hollander probably gets sent a new pair every couple of months whether he needs them or not. And wouldn't that be amazing.

"Maybe I should pull a Hollander", Cliff mutters to himself, thinking about how to best get an Adidas or Nike sponsorship or something.

Next to him Ilya almost gives himself whiplash with how fast his head snaps up and he barely manages to not drop his phone because Cliff what do you mean pull a Hollander there are no Hollanders to pull, Yuna and David are happily married and Shane is his boyfriend Cliff which Hollander are you trying to pull here-

[snowsmoked]

It was common knowledge between Timbit league coaches, premium menswear brands, and the MHL, that there was not much that could deter Yuna Hollander from a task. 

She loved having a task, she excelled at having a task. 

Her current task, while with a bit more moving parts than others, was her most interesting task since Shane was 4 and Get Him into the MHL slotted into her mind. This task was a curly haired Russian, that she spent the better part of the decade indignantly annoyed at, sitting in her living room looking through a baby photo album with her husband while her red-faced son pointedly watched an uninteresting rerun game on the television. 

She leaned against the doorframe, allowing herself a moment to enjoy something she was starting to worry she would never have - Shane with a partner. Over the years, her vision of her son’s future shifted from him and hockey-loving, kind wife to him with a husband. But never could she have thought Rozanov would be that husband. Not that they were husbands - apparently they were only boyfriends as of a few days ago. 

Still, she always joked to her friends that Shane was married to hockey. His hockey rival and second best player in the league was probably as close as he could legally get to marrying hockey. 

She must have let out a small laugh that Shane misinterpreted as being directed at David showing Ilya photos of his fifth halloween - the first one where he was old enough to choose his own outfit. And, exactly two months after he started playing hockey. 

“Mom!” He whined. ‘Fully grown adult’ her ass. 

“Yes, honey?”

“A hockey player, Hollander?” Ilya teased, delight shining through his features. 

“Not just any player,” he grumbled. 

“You’ll never guess what he was next year.”

“Not the same one!” Shane protested. Ilya must not have realized that he stumbled into a decades long argument that no, Shane, dressing up as different hockey players is not a different costume. 

Eventually the conversation transitioned into dinner. After it was decided there wasn’t much at the house, and they couldn’t go out with Ilya with them, something that sent a little pang of hurt through Yuna’s chest, they all got on their various food delivery apps to look for a suitable place. 

Then eventually settled on a sushi-fusion restaurant that Ilya found and his phone was passed around for everyone to place their orders. 

When Ilya got his phone back, Shane leaned over and asked, “how much is mine and my parents?”

Ilya scoffed, a little insulted. Though he shouldn’t be, Yuna considered, Shane had always had a very rigid sense of fairness and would get upset if he thought something was unfair. A lot of people found it annoying. Yuna found it incredibly sweet. 

“I am worth 12 million dollars, Hollander, I think I can afford DoorDash.” 

“12 million?” Yuna’s eyebrows shot up. Because, what. That couldn't be his total net worth, could it?

“Yes, I am very rich.” 

“No, that’s…” she trailed off. “What are you spending so much money on?”

“Jesus mom, you can’t just ask that.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. Between his MHL salary and sponsorships, that’s low.”

“That is low?” Ilya looked at Shane. “How much money do you have in bank?”

Shane groaned. “You’re as bad as her. And most of my assets are tied up in investments and stocks.” 

Ilya had a blank look. “Okay.” 

“Ilya, do you have a financial advisor?” Yuna asked. “Or a wealth manager?”

“I think so?” 

Yuna clicks her tongue. Task. 

“Shane’s net worth is public information - he’s worth about 120 million. He has about an eighth of that in liquid assets - money in the bank.” 

“You really have that much money?” 

“He’s the highest paid player in the league,” Yuna said with no small amount of pride. She did negotiate a ground breaking 8 year 50 million dollar contract after his rookie season. “He also has nine premium sponsors, not to mention his investment portfolio. You should be nearly at that too - you two have had very similar careers.” 

“Hmm,” Ilya shrugged and turned to her son. “Is okay, you can be my - what is the word, sugar daddy?”

“Never say that again.” 

“Anyway,” Yuna continued. “I can send you some recommendations for an advisor. I mean, it's your money of course, but it can go fast. Especially with how early hockey players generally retire. Or if you get injured, god forbid.”

“No, it’s,” Ilya shifted in his seat, eyes cutting to Shane. “That is good. You can send advisor details. Thank you.” 

“Of course,” Yuna dismissed. Ilya thanked them much too often. But it didn’t feel performative. It felt genuine. 

~*~*~*~

Eventually, Yuna got an opportunity to sit down with Ilya and his new financial advisor. He had asked her, somewhat shyly, if she would attend their meeting. Now that he and Shane were out, he had decided to take her up on the new advisor. But, as he told her, he was still not so good at English business terms. 

She had felt so warm that he asked her. 

She felt a little less warm that he asked her not to tell Shane what they were doing. As far as Shane knew, they were getting lunch. 

She understood when she started looking over the documents the new advisor laid out for them. 

Anger, hot and uncomfortable rose up in her chest. But she pushed it down because that was not what Ilya needed. Ilya, who was sitting with his arms crossed, not looking at either of them. A faint blush on his cheeks. 

Because his very limited investment assets were barely four years old. For the first five years of his career, he had sent nearly everything back home. There were payments to his father, his brother, his step-mother. Trusts for his niece and his step-mother’s children. There was a house bought in an uncle’s name. There was a private school for his niece. There were random wire transactions to his brother for odd amounts - 20k, 15k, 56k. There were even salaries paid to private chefs and house cleaners. There was a weird split of money between Russian and American banks.

What wasn’t sent back was spent on severely depreciating assets like sports cars. Rounds of alcohol at bars and clubs. Thousands of dollars spent on random Amazon purchases, designer clothes, etc. His Boston house with a criminally high interest rate. He hadn’t even bought it outright, even though he had plenty of money to do so. He had maxed out credit cards with debt he would wipe out today and not even feel it. 

His liquid assets, which were basically his only assets, weren’t even in a high yield account. At least, not as high yielding as it could be. 

He was almost living paycheck-to-paycheck in a very rich way. More like contract to contract. He would exhaust his 8 million dollar/2 year contract and then sign another one. His contracts, too. They were much lower and shorter than Yuna would ever allow her son to have with his stats and experience. 

His financial history read very much like an 18 year old boy who had been thrown into a foreign city, with a language he wasn’t totally familiar with, and no one with his best financial interests at heart. Only a family that wanted to exploit him and a new team he desperately wanted to impress. 

But Yuna pushed all that away, shook it off, and considered the plan. “This is a great starting place.”

Both Ilya and the advisor’s eyes shot to hers but she refused to back down, leveling the advisor with a hard look. 

“It is?” Ilya asked. 

“Of course,” Yuna gathered up a few documents. “You have 17 million dollars in liquid assets. You have a great contract with the Cens for three more years. That’s a much better starting point than the vast majority of people.”

“Not as good as Shane,” Ilya pointed out.

“No,” Yuna agreed with a little smile. “But if you go broke, I’m sure Shane will let you be his sugar baby.” 

[cottagehillsunset]

Hayden who just spent the entire Summer at home with the twins and baby Arthur so he's still in full on dad mode when the season starts.

Shane gets up during the night to get a class of water from the bathroom. He accidentally wakes Hayden up just as he's getting back into bed because his elbow knocks against the bedside lamp. Hayden, half asleep, just rolls out of bed on instinct. His eyes aren't even fully open as he tucks Shane into bed, kisses his forhead and mumbles a "night night" before he falls face first into bed and is back to sleep immediately.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

out and married hollanov having drinks at a non-hockey friend's house. maybe shane's old stylist who he really got along with and then her friend group absorbed him, which in turn meant they absorbed ilya.

anyway they're all sitting around a fire pit having cunty little cocktails or smth and just enough has been consumed that the convo turns scandalous. someone (we'll say his stylist) is waxing poetic about her gorgeous new fwb and their equally gorgeous friend and says "that's a sandwich i'd love to be the jelly in."

and shane - tipsy but ever present - his ears sort of perk up puppy style across the fire like, "sandwich...?"

which inspires this whole conversation about handsy threesomes. and shane's gonna be honest, in theory that sounds hot. he's had his fair share of late-night jerk offs around the idea, don't get him wrong. but he's got ilya locked down - he's not sniffing around for a third. the concept, however...the physical sensation of being caught between two hot sweaty dudes? yeah that's juuuust enough to get him zoning out into the fire, tipsy mind having a field day filled with sweaty muscles and tight, delicious pressure crowding him in on all sides.

ilya recognizes this look in an instant, of course. he's sitting right next to him after all. "making your imaginary sandwich in front of your husband..." he tsks, but it's all in good fun. he's obviously very interested, just like everyone else who has tuned into the convo because shane's kinda-

"panini..."

"what?"

"meat in a panini," he drowsily explains, in what he thinks is a perfect and impressively cohesive explanation of the image in his head right now. "absolutely fuckin' crushed..."

ilya can't even pretend to be surprised because he knows his man. and his needs. and his frequent desires to be smashed into oblivion under ilya's full weight. not even fucking him, most times. just squeezing him. pressure for pressure's sake. "ah... of course." this makes perfect sense. even if the rest of the group doesn't seem to be following. "and who is bread for your meat, my panini?"

that gets a couple giggles, but shane is fucking locked in, brother. like he's making plans already. "well you, obviously."

"obviously." okay thank god. "and who else?" he's reaching out to run his fingers through the back of his husband's hair while he speaks. "who will help me keep you still? maybe bood would if we-"

"marleau."

ilya pauses. blinks. "what?"

"cliff marleau," shane says. as if ilya is seeking clarification on which marleau is being discussed and like-...

ilya tilts his head and it's a little judgy. he knows. like the careful tone he carries with what he says next but like...hello? "sweetheart, cliff marleau fractured your collarbone and put you in hospital..."

and shane, god love him, he's just sitting there with this dreamy, almost blissed out haze over his eyes as his mind wanders. "exactlyyy..."

[cottagehillsunset]

Ilya is used to carrying babies and small children in his arms. Because he used to hold his niece in his arms (though that became less frequent with each summer he went back to Russia) and he's babysat the Pikelings a handful of times now, so yes he knows to support a baby's head and can carry around a toddler no problem.

Cue Ilya making a rare appearance at Bood's Barbeque because it's the team's chance to meet little Milo for the first time. Everyone congratulates the parents and oohs and aaws at Milo. Cue Bood asking "anyone want to hold him?"

And Ilya is the first to volunteer, already reaching out his hands. And Bood, like any new parent, starts the "Alright here we go, now be careful to support the head-" only to trail off because Ilya does not need any help. For some strange reason, Ilya fucking Rozanov is a pro at holding a baby, murmuring to him in Russian swaying him softly in his arms.

The Groupchat ("CenBros NO CAP") goes wild because how the fuck is Rozy so good with babies. And then one of the rookies is like "maybe he has a baby??" and at first everyone scoffs because, hello. This is Ilya Rozanov we're talking about.

On second thought, though.

Ilya did move to Ottawa seemingly out of nowhere.

He did buy a house in the suburbs.

He is strangely secretive about who he's texting all the time.

He is skipping almost every team event.

Suddenly it all makes sense. Ilya has a girlfriend (wife??) and he moved to Ottawa for her so that they could raise their child together. And of course he's almost never attending a team outing or leaving early, he has a child at home! Of course he's secretive about it, Ottawa or not he's still Ilya fucking Rozanov, papped every second day. It only makes sense that he'd want to protect the identiy of his girlfriend (wife??) and child.

The final piece of evidence is overheard by Holmberg and Young on a random Thurday after practice. Ilya clearly hasn't noticed them as he walks to his car, a fond smile on his face and obviously focused on his phone call. "Goodnight, I miss you very much. I will be home soon", he says. It's followed by laughter and Ilya adding that "Yes, of course is necessary! I have been away all day, my daughter must hear me say goodnight to her."

Holmberg and Young (standing next to Young's car and therefore hidden from Ilya's view) stare at each other with open mouths and wide eyes. Because holy fucking shit Rozy just confirmed he has a daughter?? And based on the conversation also a girlfriend/wife??

Meanwhile Shane, who patiently sat next to where Anya was curled up on the couch with his phone on speaker so that Ilya could tell her goodnight, is happily talking with Ilya about what to cook for dinner.

[byjove]

I hate how people call it a ‘gender war’ like gender-based violence doesn’t primarily go in one direction and there aren’t incels with podcasts saying that the 19th Amendment should be overturned. There has never been a Gamergate for women, there has yet to be a female Elliot Rodger. This is not a war. Women are occasionally lobbing unfriendly comments at men and men are detonating nuclear bombs on them. And there is a definite reason that women today are outspoken about being disillusioned by and disgusted with their male peers and committed to decentering men in their lives and it isn’t because all these women are radical misandrists who do not see men as human. Gender war makes it seem like a petty squabble with two offensives and not women realizing that many of their male peers genuinely hate them.

*TERFs, I sincerely hope you shit yourself in a public place, go fuck yourself and do not touch my post. This post is not for you.

[lunnitavaldez]

First part

Almost a hundred people asked to feed Hanguang Jun, he is such a wealthy man

[minilamma]

hehe chu wanning

[mean-jennery]

This came to me while I was trying to sleep

I was thinking that if Yue Qingyuan ever got marriage proposals, and he had to have right, he’s such a great marriage prospect, then Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) would of course thwart the efforts but that was small brain of me. On three accounts, one, Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) is too self loathing to stop this inevitable misery from occurring, he can only sulk, two, he wants what’s good for the sect, and whatever Yue Qingyuan wants for himself so he’d actually ensure a good match, and finally three, to punish himself, obviously he doesn’t deserve to be the Sect Leader’s wife why should he entertain such delusions. (His words not me I believe I was channeling him at this hour)

You get it! Anyway, I hypothesize that it would be actually be Yue Qingyuan thwarting the efforts! Before they even manage to get passed a formal proposal letter, he would crush them! And of course he would have to play along for the good of the sect and to not foster ill will, but anyone and everyone who tried died tragically in a carriage accident or something. The first two dead fiancés weren’t necessarily suspicious, just bad luck, and treacherous mountain roads. But Liu Qingge would be side eyeing Shen Qingqiu so hard by the third.

Yue Qingyuan would keep killing them and framing it as a carriage accident, like Light kept up with the heart attacks in Death Note. So that they won’t suspect foul play but instead a higher power! That any bride to be will be cursed to death if they were to propose to the Sect Leader. Cursed to never marry, maybe he’ll even bribe a fortune teller, so that applications may cease. And that’s why we don’t have any marriage proposals for the sect leader during canon even though he is like the perfect guy to marry your cabbage off to, everyone is too afraid of the very real curse.

Yue Qingyuan: Can’t have Xiao Jiu getting the wrong idea

Me: Right right Sect Leader, but do their whole envoys need to die as well? Yue Qingyuan, employs ominous smile stare combo: …

Its highly effective (like I’m a Pokémon) faints

Edited for coherence after sleep