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@pikachusthef
i love when certain very specific things just gets accepted in fandom as if they’re actually canon and everyone just agrees that yes ilya is addicted to phone games and he spends too much money on candy crush and cliff marleau is a little bit bisexual (or ilya-sexual) and very unaware of it and also the biggest himbo you’ll ever meet and of course shane invents sex acts out of his own beautiful mind
a little quick and dirty and unedited drabble for stupidest little crackfic idea thats haunted me for a while lmao:
crack fic of homophobic metros GM finding out about them pre-outing and conspiring to make the metros a friendly team to gay people bc he did the calculation of “money + championships > homophobia”
Gerald finds out about Hollander and Rozanov by accident. It’s pure coincidence.
He’d just been about ready to leave the hotel room that he’d taken a cute little blonde cart girl back to, the door cracked open just a little when he’d heard them.
“Hollander,” the voice had said, accented and low, “don’t be…”
He hadn’t been able to hear the entire sentence, but the name had drawn his attention anyway, ready to greet Shane Hollander in the hallway, maybe ask what he was up to and look away if it was trouble.
But the sight that greeted him, when he barely glanced out through the crack, was one that he couldn’t look away from even if he wanted to. Hollander and—fucking Rozanov of all people.
And not only is Hollander fumbling to open the door to the hotel room, but Rozanov’s right behind him, hands on his hips and pulling him back against his—
“Ilya,” Hollander hisses, “Come on.”
“Fine, fine,” Rozanov says, as the door whirs open. “My boyfriend does not want me anymore.”
Boyfriend?
“Shut up,” Hollander says with a little laugh, and then the door closes behind them with a gentle click.
As far as Gerald is concerned, it might as well have been a bang, the way his heart is pounding in his chest.
--
It takes Gerald some time to decide if what he saw was real.
Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov…are gay. And together.
They—well. In a strange way, he supposes it makes sense. The best in the world and pitted against each other from the start. They spent a lot of time together when they were young men, probably pent up.
Maybe the urge of a teenage boy to get his dick wet made them confused
And now here they are. Together. And fucking. Fucking each other. Or, well, Hollander fucking Rozanov. Right? Well it’s not really—who’s the girl?
--
It clicks in the middle of the night.
His eyes fly open and he sits up. The girl sleeping next to him—anothercart girl, a redhead this time—grumbles, turns onto her side and away.
Gerald can’t make himself care, because he’s busy getting out of bed and pacing.
Rozanov is in Ottawa. Rozanov left Boston for Ottawa.
It had been a shock when it had happened, and no one had been able to figure out why. Gerald had nearly laughed himself sick when he’d heard about it, James Jackson over in Boston losing his star and captain and biggest moneymaker to Ottawa of all places.
But if he moved for his…lover, then maybe…
Hollander’s contract is coming up in the summer at the end of this season, Gerald realizes with a start.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
He can’t lose Hollander. The city would burn to the ground. His family’s legacy would be tainted—letting the Shane Hollander go to Ottawa. And worst of all, he’d probably lose season ticket holders.
He calls his assistant without a second thought.
“Aaron, what do gay guys like?”
*Stiles fighting off creatures with his bat rn*
“Very rude—“ bonk “to be targeting me—” crunch “during pride month!” splat
i'm SO sorry because i do not remember what post it was on, but someone had a reblog on a shallergies post talking about the double whammy of autism (so potential texture issues) and food allergies (further limited options)
and i am cracking up just imagining yuna and david with bb shane at their wit's end because what do you MEAN their baby child won't touch a grape for love or money but won't stay AWAY from the goddamn mango
where does he even get it??? atp yuna is very seriously considering making him a little t-shirt that says, "do not give me mango no matter how cute i am when i ask" for family events
can we bring back the term "fair-weather friend" bc I feel like if fair-weather friends got called that more this whole argument about whether or not you should be there for your friends when it's inconvenient/at what point of personal inconvenience it's ok to bail on your friends would kinda fall apart bc like. we literally have a word for "friend who's only there when you don't need something from them" because the baseline expectation is that a friend should be there even when it sucks. like we used to make fun of people for bailing on their friends.
everyone needs to calm down about everything right now. unless you are worked up for a legitimate reason then of course, you should be angrier maybe. what I’m saying is let’s all take it down to a 1 or 2. unless of course you need to be at an 11.
Don't Regret It
@hollanovmicrofic / Prompt: Quiet (June n° 6) / word count: 1190
hollanov - medieval - omega shane - knight ilya – omegas are treasured
It was Ilya’s last day in that house. He knew it.
The preparations had already been made, and at dawn, he would leave the domains of House Hollander to officially begin his training as a knight.
It still felt strange to think about.
For years, it had been nothing more than a distant dream. The kind of dream men like him weren’t supposed to have.
Ilya was fortunate. People like him usually never achieved anything beyond hard labor in the fields; yet, by a stroke of fate, he had been given a chance.
Lord Hollander himself had personally recommended him for the knighthood.
Knights were no mere soldiers. They trained meticulously to represent the Great Houses.
They possessed prestige, honor, and respect.
Perhaps, if he proved himself worthy, he might return to House Hollander one day to occupy an important position. Perhaps as a captain or even a commander. And, if he saved his earnings for years on end, perhaps he might even manage to buy a small patch of land. He would build a simple house (a bit crooked, a bit rough-hewn) but his own.
The idea seemed absurd.
But now, for the first time, it was not impossible.
Still, every time he reminded himself that this would be his final night in the manor, he felt a slow tightening in his chest.
Ilya knew he ought to feel grateful. He ought to be happy.
He gazed at the moonlight through the narrow bedroom window, listening to the stillness of the night as the silvery glow passed through the old glass, casting soft shadows across the room.
Then, he heard a sound in the distance. Soft footsteps moving down the corridor.
Ilya turned his face just slightly as he heard a hesitant knock at the door. Before he could even answer, the door opened slowly.
Shane appeared, holding a small candle in a bronze holder. The flame partially illuminated his face, making shadows dance across his weary features. He wore simple clothes, and his fingers fidgeted nervously around the base of the holder as he searched for Ilya with his eyes.
When he found him near the window, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“There you are,” he murmured. His voice came out low.
“Is everything alright?” Ilya asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Ilya watched as Shane entered the room and carefully closed the door behind him, as if afraid someone might overhear them. Shane walked over to the small wooden table beside the bed and set the candle down. The flame flickered slightly with the movement, casting a golden glow across the dark room.
Shane opened his mouth to answer but hesitated.
“Yes, I...” He looked away for a moment and rubbed his fingers together nervously. “I just...” He took a deep breath before turning to face him again. “...wanted to talk to you.”
Ilya nodded slowly.
For a few seconds, he simply stood there by the table, clearly trying to muster his courage. Then he began to walk toward Ilya.
Hesitantly at first. Then more decisively.
The old floorboards creaked softly beneath his steps as he approached, stopping right in front of him. Close enough that Ilya could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, despite the cold of the night.
“I wanted to...” Shane began again. The sentence died before he could finish it.
He let out a trembling sigh, then slowly reached out his hand, his fingers seeking Ilya’s almost by instinct. It was an old gesture between them. Familiar. Shane had done it since childhood—holding Ilya’s hand whenever he was nervous, frightened, or simply wanted to be close to him.
Shane’s fingers closed carefully around his. “I wanted to say that…” His voice faltered again. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself to leap from an invisible precipice. “I…”
Outside, the night wind whistled through the castle walls, causing the heavy curtains to sway slowly.
He already knew what Shane was going to say. He knew this day would come.
Ilya pulled his hand away. The movement was swift—abrupt enough to make Shane freeze for an instant.
“No,” Ilya replied immediately.
Shane blinked, caught off guard by the harshness of the tone. The hand that had moments before held his remained suspended in mid-air for a second before slowly dropping to his side.
“Ilya—”
“Don’t say it.” His voice came out low and firm. Ilya immediately averted his gaze, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at him at that moment. The muscles in his jaw were clenched tight.
Shane watched him in silence.
Then he took another step forward.
“I like you… and I know you like me, too.” Ilya remained motionless. “When we’re together, I…” Shane hesitated again, but this time he didn’t back down. “Last time—when we went to the lake…” A small, sad smile flickered across his face for an instant. “That made me feel like we were something.” He swallowed hard.
“I think… I love you.”
The phrase hung in the air.
For an instant, everything went silent.
“We can’t be anything.”
Ilya ran a hand over his tired face before stepping back a few paces. His boots struck heavily against the old wooden floor as he walked to the other side of the room, creating distance between the two of them.
Shane frowned slightly and took another step toward him. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet.
“But do you want to be? If we could…”
“We can’t.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Ilya finally lifted his eyes, and Shane almost wished he hadn’t. Because there was too much emotion there. A raw, messy confusion hidden behind that cold expression Ilya was trying to maintain at all costs.
“Don’t do this,” Ilya murmured. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He gave a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You think you feel something, but it’s not real. This isn’t real.”
Shane stared at his back for a moment before answering.
“I’m not an idiot.” The answer came out firm. “I’m not a child, Ilya. I can tell when something is real.”
“Shane…” His voice came out hoarse.
“Stop acting like I’m making all this up.” Shane moved closer once again, slowly. “Like it isn’t mutual.”
“It’s not mutual.”
Shane fell silent.
His jaw clenched. Then he clenched his fist tightly, his fingers digging into his own palm until it hurt.
“Bullshit,” Shane murmured after long seconds of silence between them.
He took another deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady despite his misty eyes.
“I know what I felt.” Shane took another step forward. “I can feel it every time I look at you.” His voice faltered for an instant before he continued. “And I know you feel the same.” His eyes glistened, wet, yet no tears fell. Shane was too proud to let that happen.
“Fine.” He nodded slowly. “If you don’t want this, that’s fine.”
Then he looked away for a brief second, trying to regain his composure before turning to face him again.
“Just don’t lie to me.”
The silence between the two felt suffocating.
“And don’t regret it.”
note: It belongs to the same universe as the micro-fiction "Unworthy" on my profile. Ilya as a knight of House Shane, and Shane as a high-status omega. I’m a bit obsessed with this universe, so don’t be surprised if all this month’s prompts are set in it, haha. Thanks to @pikachusthef for proofreading this gem!
im a protected species you fucking asshole
aftercare for posting on ao3
your fic was good you did grammar good you’re the kind of freak people like everything’s cool dude :^)
get in loser we’re gonna try again despite it all
STAY SAFE!! [ID: the Gilbert Baker pride flag with the words “Happy pride to all those who are unable to celebrate openly and safely. You are loved and seen!” in all-caps black text over it. /end ID]
shane having multiple allergies but being able to eat things like dairy, potatoes, wheat, cabbage, carrots, fish, and beets just fine does make me laugh imagine ilya making SO many jokes about how shane was MEANT to marry a russian because so much russian food is safe for him
"who else would know how to cook you these things, hm?"
dryly: "literally anyone with internet access?"
"just me, correct 😌"
worth fighting for
You know technology literacy is dying because I saw this meme with 76k likes
F11 the full screen button? You’re scared of the full screen button? F10?? It opens the menu bar???
Computers are so scary what if I accidentally hit F12 in a steam game and it takes a screenshot. What if I press shift + F12 while in word and accidentally save my document 😖
If you had to learn what the F keys on your computer do through me reblogging this post, then I'm glad you did. Computer literacy is not a skill that gets taught anymore, and it is absolutely one that needs to be taught in order to be learned. Don't ever feel bad for not knowing something, but ☝️ don't ever stop learning learning about your environment, the tools you use, and especially the people around you
