I love the headcanon that Shane, when he's really drunk, is a runner (kudos to whoever came up with it).
It doesn't happen often (his Canadian Boyscout Golden Boy of Hockey image is in tact) but there's at least one YouTube compilation. And it's just ordinary people filming insta stories or videos with their friends. And suddenly whoosh Shane Hollander flies past them. Followed closely by Hayden and/or JJ sprinting after him shouting his name.
And over the years more of these videos pop up. Only now they also include Ilya. Wyatt. Troy. On one notable occasion even Scott because he's the only one who knows his way around New York's streets.
The first time Hayden shows up to a club in sneakers Ilya teases him about it but boy does he reget his words when he chases down a drunk Shane four hours later, Hayden already a couple of steps ahead.
I have every word ever blocked. I could be mutuals with axe murderers and I wouldn't know because I have "#axe murdering" in my blocked tags. it's so peaceful here (hears a noise behind me) (doesn't turn around)
Extremely irksome as an autistic person to ask a clarifying question and be told you’re “splitting hairs” when you genuinely just don’t understand because there isn’t enough information. Like, buddy. This is me at my most basic level of “what do you mean by that.” You wanna see me split hairs? If you really saw how thin I could slice a hair you’d hurl
If you really care about preventing government tyranny, your #1 priority must be making sure criminals have rights.
And that's not a joke or an exaggeration.
If criminals don't have rights, then all the government has to do is find some excuse to label people as criminals, and those people will no longer have rights. It's what literally every tyrannical government in all of history has done.
If you believe that people who break the law should forfeit their rights, you're literally as pro-tyranny as a person can get.
“and then he rode me so good that when i came i almost blacked out” ilya tells to a rose landry who is grinning hard fully invested in hearing about shane and ilya’s latest sexcapades then she asks “can i watch one time?” and ilya gasps offended and says “i’m not letting someone who’s already fucked my husband watch my husband having sex with me” and rose already cackling at how easy he is to wind up says “well i’m running low on shane content to get off to lately” and ilya absolutely flabbergasted goes “you are not getting off to my husband, you can’t even look at him anymore. delete every single photo of him from your phone, especially the shirtless ones” and rose smirks and goes “can’t do, i’m actually scheduled to do a peloton campaign with him next month. he’ll be all sweaty and shirtless, it’s gonna be amazing” she teases him and ilya picks out his phone already dialing and goes “no you’re not, i’m not going to let that happen” and when the person picks up he goes “mama yuna, cancel shane’s peloton campaign right now” and rose is there full on belly laughing and ilya pauses and ask “what, there’s no campaign? no, don’t schedule one then. thanks yuna, i’ll explain later” and he hangs up and turns to rose who is practically crying with laughter and he just glares and goes “you fucking little minx”
ilya accidentally hurts their daughter while playing in yuna and david's house one day, and little hollander-rozanov (we'll refer to her as Baby because she's like, two) ruuuuuuns to shane, crying, telling him what papa did to her. and ilya has trailed after her, is imploring her to believe he didn't mean to, it was an accident, he loves her so much. but she won't listen to him, refuses to even look at him, and only stops crying when shane picks her up and rocks her from side to side.
he tries telling her the same things ilya did in his calm voice (myshane doesn't use baby voice. he speaks to her normally) and she remains quiet as he talks, but even after he's done she won't look at ilya. eventually experienced mother yuna tells them Baby just needs a little time and takes her away to have a nice hot drink and maybe to do some drawing.
ilya looks CRUSHED. he feels absolutely terrible. shane ends up having to console him too:
"I didn't mean to, shane, the box slipped—"
"I know, baby, of course you didn't mean to."
"I'm a terrible fucking father."
"ilya, no you're not. you're an amazing father and she loves you."
"she has never looked at me like that. ever. like I betrayed her."
anyway, later in the day they're all in the living room together, david in the armchair doing a crossword, shane and ilya on the couch facing the tv, yuna and Baby on the floor playing with building blocks. ilya is only half-paying attention to whatever show is on; he keeps looking over at Baby, pained, and shane keeps stroking his hair comfortingly.
at some point Baby yawns.
"oh? feeling a little sleepy?" yuna asks.
Baby shakes her head. she moves some more blocks. then she yawns again and abruptly decides yes, actually, she's had enough of playtime, and stands up. rubbing her eyes, she turns towards the couch.
shane says, "hey, baby, you wanna go to bed?" and she nods as she walks. but she's walking towards ilya. and ilya is shifting up in his seat faster than lightning, hopeful—and when she stops in front of his knees and reaches up to him his face crumples. he sweeps her up into his arms and holds her close, one hand under her bottom and the other cupping the back of her head. he's murmuring to her in english, "my baby, my baby" and then in russian, "papa loves you so, so much. papa didn't mean to hurt you, baby. I love you so, so much, darling." and she murmurs vague baby things back, face hidden in his neck now and arms circling it.
the scene is so sweet there isn't a dry eye in the room. definitely not ilya's, and not shane's or david's or yuna's either.
maybe just Baby's, though. she's already fallen asleep.
Fever is a hilarious immune response. Our bodies tell the disease “hey, wanna see which one of us dies of overheating first? No? Too bad.” and honestly they’re not even the winners a decent chunk of the time but it works often enough that we never evolved it away or anything. Fantastic work.
The Asian honeybee deals with hornets entering their hive by dogpiling the intruder and rubbing against each other, producing heat through friction. Hornets have like two degrees Celsius less heat tolerance than bees, so the bees survive and the hornet dies.
From top-of-frame, a month flutters into the wallet. Confused, the bat looks "up" to see an equally-confused human standing "above" her, holding an open wallet containing a single $100 bill.
Camera rotates to reveal bat has been hanging upside down above a human doing the exact same visual gag and each ruined the other's bit.
continuation of this short post where shane tipsily contemplates getting squished between ilya and marleau’s sweaty bodies <3
it’s been several months and shane isn’t even thinking anymore about getting panini-pressed between his husband and his husband’s bro-y best friend. it was buzzy and fun and ilya teasing him about it while they fucked afterwards was kinda hot but he’s done with all that now.
that’s the plan, at least, until he finds himself in a club. finds himself a little drunker than he intended. finds himself on the dance floor, ilya guiding him with long, sexy movements that keep them pressed together so nicely, chest to chest. it’s less dancing, to be honest, and more swaying. taking stock of each other’s bodies and following the ebb and flow of them. and shane is drunk and happy and a little turned on by his smoking hot husband so that’s why he reacts the way he does when it happens. when they’re suddenly not alone.
shane is perhaps hyperaware of cliff marleau’s presence tonight, but only in the way that ilya hasn’t gotten to see him in such a long time. it’s a reunion of sorts. so vibes are up. his husband’s happy and that makes shane happy, his slightly swimming brain latching onto the endorphins that spike around marleau like they’re his own.
it’s why his body reacts the way it does when one moment, things are footloose and fancy free, and then the next, there’s this solid, hulking weight settling behind him, not touching but unmistakably there. it’s marleau’s deep voice. marleau’s woodsy cologne. marleau’s heat, hovering just shy of shane’s back as he leans over his shoulder to shout something at ilya.
it’s loud as fuck in here, the bass sitting low in shane’s chest, so he really does mean shout. but ilya leans in a bit to catch his words. seamlessly. they’ve done this so many times, shane assumes, finding each other in clubs after inevitably splitting up. and that’s fine. that’s good. ilya’s laughing and he’s happy and that makes shane happy. and then the crowd moves.
it’s light - a ripple effect as a group of girls make their way through the sea of bodies - but it’s just enough, that adrenaline spiking with a top-off of sweet endorphins as suddenly, marleau’s body sinks in to press all along shane’s back.
it’s nothing. an accident. and yet shane’s heart suddenly bunny-kicks in his chest, the light squeeze of him caught between ilya and marleau’s chests sending a pulse of satisfied heat through his core. because neither of them are moving away. there’s a natural sway to them that comes from being in a crowd of bodies, but the extra space must’ve never freed up behind marleau after the girls passed. and all of the sudden shane’s brain and dick register that he’s stuck. that he’s squished, by firm muscles, from all sides.
he’s been in this position before. on a dance floor like this. rose kissing him, miles’s lips not so secretly brushing against the back of his neck. it’s not a new position, but tonight is nothing like that. right now, there’s nothing remotely sexual even happening. it’s just ilya talking to his friend. just having a moment. casual and circumstantial and yet shane’s skin is on fire. his muscles are screaming with relief, the beautiful satisfaction of the deep pressure surrounding him making his brain swim down deep.
ilya shouts something back to marleau with a devastatingly handsome smile. it gets both hands reaching over shane’s shoulders to give ilya’s a friendly rub and it’s too loud to catch. all shane knows is they’re both laughing now. they’re like boys again - a revisit to their clubrat days and they’re just as smooth and sexy but they’re mature now. stable. and shane is ilya’s, those big hands on his hips now that marleau’s snug against his back. there’s no room to actually dance and shane’s finding he couldn’t be happier about that, pulse thick and thundering in his ears as another wave presses in, marleau’s touch dropping back to clamp over shane’s deltoids as he’s forced to press forward again - so fucking tightly into him this time that shane stumbles that last half a step into ilya’s chest and fuck.
shane’s eyes flutter closed. hands fall to clutch into the back of ilya’s tank top. his dick jumps in his jeans as the heady pressure squeezing around him tightens. neither of the men seem to care that marleau’s all up on shane and maybe that’s normal. maybe that’s just the way the club scene is. you get cozy and flush against your best friend’s partner and no one bats an eye because it doesn’t mean anything. it’s just a spacing issue.
maybe shane’s the freak.
because he’s trying not to, but he can feel himself getting hard. he can hear all that teasing that poured from his husband’s lips after he admitted to hypothetically wanting this around that fire pit. the pressure. the trap. with this man specifically.
marleau leans his head back for a second and his warm breath fans against the nape of shane’s neck and suddenly, like a demon has possessed him, it’s taking everything in shane’s power not to back his ass up into marleau’s lap. to grind against him a little. just to see. god, he’s drunk. he needs ilya to take him home and fuck him. he needs to stay right here and live out his days crushed between these two sweaty bodies, their colognes mixing into this insane aroma that gets in shane’s head and makes him wanna do something crazy.
he just needs to recenter. steady his pulse. enjoy the pressure without equating it to something filthy, like he can usually do so well, but for some reason is struggling hard as hell with right now.
shane rests his chin over ilya’s shoulder with a hum. closes his eyes. remembers himself and where he is and opens them back up, making eye contact with a twink who’s watching him with what can only be described as biblical proportions of envy.
they need to leave. before shane does something stupid. before he ruins a friendship that’s been in the works for over a decade because he’s drunk and horny and can’t control himself.
shane lifts his head to brush his lips against ilya’s ear, but before he can ask, something happens behind them. whatever it is, it’s got marleau’s lap pressing up flush against his ass and god, it sends this buzzy pleasure through him so, so deeply and the noise escapes shane before he can reel it in. before he can act like he’s normal and not very obviously so fucking turned on between them.
he can feel ilya’s chest rumble. hear the smirk that’s dancing across his lips as he noses his way over to shane’s ear instead.
“soon,” he murmurs, and shane has no way of knowing how his eyes flick up to snag on marleau over his shoulder. “let us play with you a little longer.”
I Am Tired @shedeservesthebest - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
