I'm oldfarmwitch and I don't think I've ever actually had a pinned post, so I might as well do one now.
My pronouns are they/she. I'm also trying out "LK" as a name, so you can call me that if you want. I'm queer, bi, nonbinary, probably older than you, autistic, fat, disabled, and half Chinese, among other things.
I sometimes post art. And by sometimes I mean very rarely. But it's been known to happen.
Always and forever obsessed with Schitt's Creek / David x Patrick and RWRB / firstprince.
Currently obsessed with Heated Rivalry / Hollanov.
I reblog anything and everything that catches my fancy, so enter at your own risk.
AO3: xenikay. I've written exactly 1 fic, for David x Patrick, back when there were ~50 fics in the SC fandom. I don't think I'll ever write a fic again, but I try to comment on everything I read.
Bluesky: oldfarmwitch
I love chatting with folks, so please feel free to send me an ask or DM me!
“Williams’ victory feels especially well deserved because Shane Hollander is not an easy character to portray. As we wrote in our review of the series, Williams delivers “a masterclass in micro-expressions and physical restraint.” Shane spends much of the story fighting against himself, suppressing emotions he barely allows himself to acknowledge, and Williams manages to communicate entire emotional arcs through a glance, a tense jaw, or a slight shift in posture. Every crack in Shane’s carefully constructed armor lands with devastating impact because of the work Williams puts in throughout the series.
Seeing that performance recognized on one of Canada’s biggest stages feels incredibly rewarding. Williams’ win is also historic in its own right. At just 25 years old, he became the youngest performer ever to win Best Lead Performer, Drama, at the Canadian Screen Awards, accomplishing the feat on his very first nomination.”
Ilya loves internet memes, but his absolute favourite is Miette, and he quotes it all the time. Like, Shane softly nudges Ilya off of him because he wants to get up and
Ilya, his eyes enormous: you KICK Ilyusha? you kick his body like the hockey puck? oh! oh! jail for husband! jail for husband for One Thousand Years!!!!
Shane has his own favourites that he uses on Ilya:
Ilya, defending his shitposts: I spiced up Harris's job!
Shane: you ruined a perfectly good social media manager, is what you did. Look at him, he's got anxiety
Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.
i wrote this while i was working at orlando’s walt disney world parks.
i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.
as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.
disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.
at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.
i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.
i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.
fluff? on mymansmoon? it's more likely than you think.
it's the year following s1. ilya is still in boston and shane is in montreal. they've just played a game against each other in boston and shane is staying over at ilya's house. after dinner they have a little fight about who's going to handle the dishes and ilya wins, play-snarling and biting at shane. shane rolls his eyes; ilya tells him to go into the living room and turn on the TV or something. so he does. settles into one corner of the couch. bundled top to toe in ilya's clothes: hoodie, sweats, socks. (he prefers his own, texturally, but he liked the principle of using everything of ilya's.)
he turns on some sports channel probably. five minutes later ilya comes into the room and flops onto the couch, head landing in shane's lap and the rest of his body stretching out lengthwise. he lets out a big 'ahh!' sound as he does and shane smiles, putting his hands on him. ilya turns onto his side so he can watch tv as well. maybe there's a hockey game on, i don't know. but they talk for a bit about whatever they're watching. relaxed observations traded back and forth. shane is absently playing with any part of ilya that he can easily reach. his hair, his ear, his neck, his shoulder. the night is winding down. they had a late dinner because they were having sex before. started the moment shane walked in the door. shane is full and relaxed. he has his favourite person in his lap. a silence descends on them both.
at some point something happens on the tv that warrants a comment from shane, but it receives no reply from ilya. "ilya?" he leans forward to check ilya's face and he's sleeping. eyes closed, mouth open. he's making those little clicking noises on his inhales that teeter on the edge of snoring. shane feels an unbearable swell of affection for him and watches him for a bit. then he very carefully reaches over to check the time on his phone. it's late. as much as he doesn't want to disturb ilya, he has an early flight out of boston tomorrow, and he isn't going to get a good night's sleep sitting up on this couch.
shane scratches ilya's scalp gently. "baby," he says. no response. he scratches him again, rubs his shoulder and then his jaw. "baby." ilya makes a noise and frowns, stirring a little. shane thinks his heart is going to burst out of his chest. "baby, let's go to bed," he says. this time ilya turns onto his back but keeps his eyes closed. he lifts his chin, sleepily asking for a kiss. shane smiles and gives it to him. soft warm press of lips for two seconds. when shane pulls back ilya sighs and makes a satisfied "hmmh" sound, before going still again. threatening to fall back asleep. shane's cheeks hurt. he rubs the backs of his fingers under ilya's chin. "hey, sleepyhead," he urges gently.
finally ilya inhales the inhale of a waking person, sudden and sharp and deep, and buries his face in shane's—rather, his own—hoodie. then he lifts himself off shane's lap. shane lets him go, reaching for the remote to shut the tv off while ilya yawns and rubs at his face in his periphery. he has groggy eyes. shane gets up and extends a hand to him; ilya takes it. shane pulls him up and leads him by the hand through the house, as familiar to shane now as his own place in montreal.
"I need to—" ilya gestures at the lights that are still on in the kitchen and entryway. "I've got it," shane says, and leaves ilya to hit all the appropriate switches. when he returns ilya is looking at him in a way. "what?" shane asks.
ilya shakes his head. "is just nice," he murmurs. "this is a little like your house now too."
shane breathes. takes ilya's hand again. "yeah," he says. he squeezes. the house is dark and blue-ish now. moonlight coming in through ilya's floor-to-ceiling windows. they look at each other for several long moments, then shane pulls ilya with him to the bedroom.
Just came home from a dinner party with the friendgroup at which several people kept saying "Ask Pedro" or "Pedro will know" and I was terrified that they were referring to an AI like Claude but no, thank fuck, they were referring to a cardboard cutout of Pedro Pascal that someone left upstairs and who has been designated a kind of patron saint status in the household.
its awesome that neither mind reading nor god are real and all of the thoughts inside of your head are completely private and consequenceless forever #myprivacy
i don't have ocd at all but what i do have is a lot of mean thoughts i dont want other people to have to know about so i was just taking a moment to appreciate the fact that im the person in control of these things. but i hope you ocd warriors out there can be assured and encouraged by this as well. #ourprivacy
[Image ID: Tweet from Aaron (@/ _Aaron_448) reading: I saw a discussion about how Aaron Bushnell deserves no praise because he was "still an imperialist at age 25. He should have known better."
Quote tweet from Erika Chappell - Professional Simp... reading: essentially an enormous part of the reason that online leftist spaces suck so much is that they are filled with people who believe it is more important to do nothing wrong that it is to do something right. /End ID]
19. how many wisdom teeth do you have and have you had any removed?
i had all four wisdom teeth removed. two of them were impacted and i had to get an emergency removal because i couldn't open my mouth at all. i also had an extra tooth removed from my lower left jaw. and an infected tooth fully removed. so, in total, i've had 6 teeth removed.
probably more info than you wanted, but thanks for the ask!
22. do you have nieces/nephews/godchildren/other kids in your life that
aren't yours?
yes, but they're my friends' kids, not technically nieces/nephews/godchildren. the one we see the most is 8 years old, but two other friends just had babies and another friend is pregnant. so, yes, lots of kids in my life. thankfully, because i love kids but don't want them for a multitude of reasons.
25. would you rather own a dishwasher or a laundry machine if you could only have one or the other?
i do both the laundry and dishes in my household and i'd definitely choose a washer/dryer over a dishwasher. not having a washer/dryer is so much more inconvenient than not having a dishwasher, in my experience.
In the background of the video clip, posted by a fan at the hotel breakfast just before Christmas 2018, Shane Hollander is talking on the phone. He looks tired but he's smiling, pushing scrambled eggs around his plate with a fork. "I saw, baby," he says. "No, definitely, no way that was slashing, I'm with you. You'll get them next time, though. Beautiful goal you got in the first, that was so fucking sexy. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Love you."
Which leads to a bit of an uproar because omg Shane Hollander has a girlfriend?? who plays hockey???? that's so on brand for him like. okay who was playing last night and got a goal in the first period, we need to find the woman who has Shane Hollander crooning into his phone like a lovestruck teenager. and the consensus lands on an unsuspecting and entirely unrelated CWHL forward who has never even been in the same city as Shane but the Internet is running with the story and there's journalists harassing her and Shane has to get his agent to call her agent so he can apologise for this mess and she's like, dude, I know it's not your fault, but Shane feels so fucking bad about it, you know?
And unfortunately it doesn't really let up as quickly as they thought because it's right before Christmas and isn't this a great story, fucking Hallmark movie shit, so a very unimpressed Leila (her name is Leila) has to look a reporter in the eye after her team just played a really good fucking game of hockey and everybody wants to talk to her about some fucking guy, you know? so she looks him in the eye and says, no, I am not dating Shane Hollander, I have never dated Shane Hollander, I will never date Shane Hollander, I am literally a lesbian. I have a whole-ass girlfriend. She plays for the Blades.
And Shane Hollander is so consumed by jealousy he almost chokes.
Loving the idea that after some time has passed and everybody has calmed tf down, it becomes a silly little joke like yeah, how's my girlfriend's boyfriend doing?, they mostly hang out at hockey events especially once the Irina Foundation is a bit more established and Shane is putting more effort into his charity work but then they just always end up getting tipsy in a corner together, talking puck and bitching about the press and their own sick enjoyment, all three of them laughing and it's genuinely fun and he's fine, it's fine, Shane is not burning alive with greed at all.
Leila sends him a photo the next morning at buttfuck o'clock of her gf in running gear like "i told her Shane Hollander would bring me breakfast in bed, not abandon me to go exercise" and Shane replies "so sorry to disappoint you also does this mean Marie got the code for the hotel gym?" and then they gradually become real friends and the next time they’re at some gala Leila's insta story complaining that "they’re ganging up on me" because Shane and Marie dragged her out for a run goes a bit too viral and of course the tabloids run all sorts of bullshit about how he's cheating in Rose Landry with Leila or on Leila with Marie or
once Hollanov are out and public the running joke is that everybody thought Ilya was the womaniser but Shane somehow managed to land three girlfriends at once
Trying to remember the name of a food truck I went to 10+ years ago and all I know is that it started with a ‘G.’ My brain oh-so-unhelpfully suggested ‘Gonacharov,’ so now I’ll probably never remember the actual name.
Thinking about how Ilya probably had breakfast stuff in that fridge as well. In Tupperware containers. And how he probably just emptied them in the trash.
I love this idea so much of Ilya, who is currently laying half across Shane's lap, going yessss back scratches! when Shane lifts his shirt but Shane has his focused frown face and asks "Do you get them checked regularly?" and Ilya is confused and tries to see what Shane means.
"Get what checked?"
"Your moles?"
And- not really. But he also knows that's not great, probably.
"Uh. I had them checked, yes."
He turns back to the hockey game on TV but can feel Shane's eyes boring into his skull.
"Ilya."
A dramatic sigh leaves him and he groans a little at the end of it.
"What?"
"When were they checked?"
A half hearted shrug "When I joined the team."
"That was four years ago!"
"Mhh." And well, Ilya doesn't lie to Shane. But if he just doesn't say anything he-
"Oh god. Which team? Ottawa?"
Mhh. Fuck.
"Uh," he tries for nonchalant, sniffs, shrugs. Plays it totally cool(...). "no. Boston."
"Ilya!"
"It's no big deal!"
"It is! You're meant to check every other year at least. And I feel like this one got bigger."
Ilya tries to turn again to see.
"Which?"
Shane taps his finger against a point at Ilya's back he has no chance of seeig anyway so he lays back down.
"I'm sure is fine."
There's an annoyed huff coming from above him.
"I'm making you a dermatologist appointment."
Another long suffering sigh. Even though he secretly loves when Shane gets like this. Making sure Ilya is okay, fighting for his well being even if it's with Ilya himself. Sometimes he's still reeling from the fact that someone cares enough to look out for him like that.
"Okey, okey."
a few days later
"Take your shirt off."
Ilya looks up from his bowl of cereal. The way Shane is standing there, face determined and red sharpie lifted in his hand makes him suspect this request isn't for sex reasons.
the concept of a site that doesn't even allow porn requiring age verification for mature content. you gotta give us your legal id or else we'll hide random posts that were incorrectly flagged from you
