in my mind palace shane ate out/fingered ilya for the first time in tampa. he saw how shaken up he was and knew he needed to get out of his head and what helps shane? a mind blowing orgasm, especially when it involves assplay. and by the end of it ilya was a whimpering, crying mess but yeah it was exactly what he needed. added bonus was it made him feel closer and bonded to shane in a way he's never felt before
I love literally every interpretation of the Lost Tampa Tapes but my god this is Delicious….. you all Know I’m the Ilya Getting Fingered Pervert…
I’m also imagining that it’s the first time he’s ever done it with anyone outside of himself when he jerks off. Shane is the first person ever to touch his ass, and there’s a vulnerability to it that Ilya didn’t quite expect.
I’m wondering what positioning you had in mind because I think face down for the first time… I don’t think Ilya would be able to look down at what Shane is doing to him and not bust a nut immediately
always love your additions! yes, face down on his stomach, probably propped up with a couple of pillows. he absolutely can't watch what shane is doing and not bust immediately, but also he feels so vulnerable about the fact that it's even happening that not watching is easier for him. i also have always believed assplay = NOISY ilya, and this is another thing he feels shy about and would prefer to muffle himself.
and when shane isn't nose deep in hole, he is staring the entire time with that same look of total awe that he had the first time he ever saw ilya come in room 1410
I think Tampa is the first time Ilya is ever truly LOUDDD like moaning and groaning and writhing in the sheets and trying to muffle his noises but Shane just licks a broad stripe over his hole and then kisses the dimples of his back and asks
The core appeal of Willy Wonka is that he's a nigh-omnipotent maniac who uses his near limitless powers over reality to trick shitty people into killing themselves. You can't make him the protagonist of a whimsical coming of age tale - you have to treat him like Jason Voorhees, or Dracula, or any other horror icon. Give him some new victims and new interesting kills and set him loose, that's all audiences want.
Gene lobbied hard for Wonka to be introduced as a feeble limping old man who suddenly falls into a forward somersault and leaps to his feet, because "from that moment on the audience won't know if he can be trusted." On a related note: the director told Gene what would happen during the boat scene, but none of the other actors were prepared; to this day, none of them are sure what he ad libbed and what was scripted.
My favorite detail, though, is his performance of Pure Imagination. On the surface, the song is charming and inviting, but if you look closely at him throughout the scene, you'll notice that Gene never blinks. He looks around, down at his feet, up at the trees; his eyes never fully close. He moves erratically, stuttering up and down the steps of the chocolate room. The lyrics are warm and friendly, but his face is blank. He bows to permit his visitors to run amok, but his posture is stiff. He helps Violet and Mike reach a couple of treats, but there is no joy in the gesture. The final post-chorus feels like a dirge, a threat, and a warning, all at once; Wonka sits in repose under a tree, but his eyes are glassy and dispassionate. "There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination; / living there / you'll be free / if you truly / wish / to be.......... "
Fantasy in excess, like anything else, will destroy you; that's the real message of Gene Wilder's Wonka. He taunts his guests with unrepentant disdain, and doesn't care if they live or die. He toys with their emotions, their safety, and their grip on reality, feeling no regret or remorse, no pity, no compassion. Fantasy is colorful and compelling, but it's false, and ultimately empty. Wonka is a walking maladaptive daydream, and as far as I'm concerned, that's the real reason the 1971 film has endured in the culture for so long.
"About all we know for sure about Nicholas Wood of Harrietsham, Kent, England, is that he would have been a devil at today’s “all you can eat” buffets."
Some people make it into the history books by becoming world leaders. Some do so through acts of daring or heroism. Some do so by creating
hungry lil coyote who is sniling so sneetly and waiting so good-boy-ly and preying so preyly for his tundra predator to stalk closer and pin him in place and feed him a juicy bite of that flinty desire....
there are many reasons why bruise kink is a big fat win for hollanov. but v important is that, though leaving identifiable sex marks is expressly forbidden by the Homophobic Powers That Oversee Shane's Anxiety, if shane shows up to metros optional morning skate with the same bruise on his obliques that everyone saw yesterday after the game, but today its aggravated, pulsing purple and red and maybe abraded in spots, that's literally fine. they're just gonna think he slept on it wrong or the bruise got worse over night. classic. normal. happens every day to every man in homoerotic ice life.
they will NOT ☝ think that the bruise is aggravated because ilya put his mouth on it and sucked at it for an hour (until shane sobbed like a hurt lil coyote and came so hard he sorta blacked out), to complete the check ilya began during the game by putting shane into the boards in the first place and causing this beautiful bruise (foreplay)! but that is what happened (what they planned) 😌 and this IS how we get all of the benefits without any of the worries. soothing possessive pain kink for hungry coyote and his tundra predator. in public and private. so considerate. so mindful. so hockey. so eviscerating.
like! testing the limits of what people will clock as a hockey bruise and a sex bruise is soooo hot!!!
shane gets into a scrum where someone drags him down to the ice by his collar and doesn't let go and he ends up w a ragged neck bruise and near whiplash. and he's staring at the growing dark puce line of the bruise in the locker room mirror post shower. launching himself at his phone. texting with shaking hands: be fucking ready
lily replies in less than a minute: where is it
lily: pic
jane: i'm in the fucking locker room. just. be ready. 40 minutes
lily: pic.
lily: pic pic pic
jane: fuck's sake
lily: no. my sake. now.
jane: [shitty bathroom stall picture of the bruising blooming around the base of his neck]
lily: i kill sebby for this
lily: i fuck you in this stall bare
lily: bite until your blood drip on floor
and shane knocks his head against the stall door and reaches down --
lily: do not jerk off.
shane groans and grips himself.
lily: no.
lily: my sake only
and shane lets go and gets the hell out of dodge and to ilya's house for his (and ilya's) just desserts (sucking, fucking, bloodletting).
and maybe hayds does notice! he gets upset on shane's behalf before practice the next day, bc "what the fuck did sebbin do, man. that's fucked," and shane has been flushed the whole morning, shrugs a shoulder and focuses on tying his skates with his neck bruised to hell, splotchy and aching with every move, and just says, "it's okay, i asked for it. it's the game."
If you have time, please share any thoughts you might have on Ilya and Shane's intersecting mommy issues? The helicopter mom Vs absent mom dichotomy,,, I've been spinning something in the back of my head to the tune of the "favourite son" of it all,,, also @probablily opened my eyes to the absolutely insane premise of Ilya siding with Yuna during an argument Shane has with her,,, I am chewing,,,
Ooof see this one is hard for me because I LOVE Yuna and I truly think that she is genuinely at all times trying to do right by her son. Yes they are enmeshed and yes there are privacy issues going both ways. Yuna does not know how to give Shane space; Shane does not WANT that space until his secrets start piling up and even then a bit motivating factor for him wanting to just...end all of the lying and secrets is NOT so that he can be honest with himself but rather so that he can curl himself back up into the mold of a person that he hasn't been since he was seventeen years old. Like, Shane doesn't want to come out to his mom he wants to be a person who DOES NOT NEED to come out to his mom. He wants to force himself straight so that he can be the son Yuna always imagined in her head.
For context:
The son that Shane thinks Yuna imagines in her head: Seven time Stanley Cup winner Captain of the Montreal Metros loving husband to a beautiful wife together with whom he has given Yuna beautiful grandchildren.
The person that Yuna actually imagined when she held a beautiful baby in her arms and named him Shane: Happy and healthy and cherished for always.
So there's a major disconnect there.
Ilya, meanwhile, is the parentified youngest child of a very ill mother in a very controlling environment. He's spent half his life deifying the idea that he has of his mother in his head. He dismisses the weight placed upon his shoulders both by living with her and by her absence almost as though recognizing it would besmirch her memory. So having a new mother figure in his life, after years longing and placing the concept of the maternal on a pedestal...it would be very confusing for him. Because Yuna Hollander is incredibly self-sufficient and would balk with horror at the idea of letting her ten-year-old son perform the kind of emotional and domestic labor that Ilya was clearly expected to shoulder due to his mother's incapacity. And to admit that Yuna is a good mother and maybe the sort of mother that Ilya wishes he has growing up might almost feel like a betrayal of Irina, who was so beautiful and funny and sad.
I think he WOULD recognize, from the outside looking in, that Shane and Yuna are enmeshed. He might not have the language to describe it but I think he recognizes it. I think he also LIKES that Shane is enmeshed with his mother, insofar as it doesn't effect his relationship with Shane (Because it does, at times--lack of personal boundaries etc.) because Shane's enmeshment with his mother and the fact that Yuna sort of views Ilya as an extension of Shane means that some of his deepest desires (To have a mother again; to have someone who will love him unconditionally) are, in a way, fulfilled.
And truly, in some ways, it's not that deep. The relationship between the Hollanders and Ilya is perhaps deeper than that of a typical set of inlaws but it truly isn't inappropriate, and all parties are content--Yuna and David have the second son they always wanted AND someone to look after their son when they cannot; Shane's parents and his husband get along to the point where they consider each other family, which is the platonic ideal; Ilya has the parental relationship he's always really, at his core, needed.
Now, the thing about families is that they DO fight, particularly BECAUSE of the love they have for each other. Yuna and Shane like each other as people a great deal, even outside their mother-son relationship, but we see them butt heads even in the show. They are both stubborn and willful and probably, honestly, have a bit of a mutual superiority complex. David has probably been acting as an intermediary for them since Shane was old enough to say the word no. And that's not even to say that they don't agree! They do, the vast majority of the time, but when they disagree it is always ALWAYS a major incident.
So what would happen if Shane and Yuna disagreed and Ilya took Yuna's side? Firstly I think for this scenario to even come to be, the subject at hand would HAVE to be something relevant to Shane's well-being, because that is one of the only things I can think of that would unite Ilya with ANYONE against Shane.
A scenario that I have seen several times in several different flavors is the idea of Shane being injured and there being some lack of consensus between the Hollanders with regards for how to deal with this. I've seen it as a Shane and Ilya versus Yuna and I've seen it as Yuna versus Ilya with Shane as a bit of a bystander or sometimes even unconscious. Ilya and Yuna versus Shane would be a bit of a departure and interesting to consider. Shane expecting Ilya to take his side by default because of societal expectations of son-in-law versus mother-in-law would also be very interesting. Something something, "But you're my husband. You're supposed to take my side." Something something, "There are no sides, Shane, we only want what's best for you, and Ilya and I are aligned with what we think is best." And then Yuna and Ilya both have to deal with Shane looking at them with actual betrayal in his eyes for basically the first time ever.
I think it would be a major turning point in the Hollanov dynamic. A major come to Jesus moment, in a way, where the whole family probably has to address where they truly stand with each other. And probably come out better and closer on the other side! But it would be rough for a little while.
Instead of the new dogshit Odyssey film you should watch Iphigenia (1977). It’s made by actual Greek people and focuses on a mother-daughter relationship to explore how women are sacrificed by powerful men in times of war. Also the main actress has the face of an angel 🙏 the whole movie is available on YT with English subtitles.
Thinking about the fact that Ilya and Shane probably kissed SO much that first day at the cottage like Shane’s jaw was achy and their mouths were puffy and swollen and deep pink at the end of the day
Like they definitely fucked like three times by like early afternoon, and Shane’s a bit achy, they’d been eager and rough with each other, mainly in their desperation for each other. It had been months for both of them, waiting for each other- and it’s the first time they have ever had time on their hands, time and no fucking interruptions, just endless soft surfaces and hard surfaces to press each other into, soft close clothing and no prying eyes.
But they also kinda can’t stop kissing. Shane almost feels overwhelmed by it, it’s like theirs magnets on their tongues, drawn to each other like gravity. After lunch they end up making out at the sink for an unknown stretch of time, at least till the water in the sink that the dishes had been soaking in, cooled. But it was soft pecks too, hot firey kisses when Ilya would interrupt him by grabbing his face and pulling him in, licking into his mouth. So not only does Shane’s ass and hips ache a bit, but so does his mouth.
It’s the evening, the sun dipping down past the line of the lake and Shane is sprawled on his back on the soft rug of the living room. Ilya is a shirtless warm wide weight over him, just in a pair of Shane’s sweatpants (yours are better Hollander I want these) between Shane’s legs, pressing into and over him. He smells like Shane’s body wash, and sun, tastes like sour patch kids (Shane had bought them just for Ilya, when he’d done his grocery shop for the summer. It was just a few things, inconspicuous packets- but ones that usually had no place in Shane Hollanders pantry).
Shane’s in his metros crew neck and a pair of soft shorts, socks on.
Ilya has an elbow on either side of Shane’s head, one hand fisted in the top of Shane’s hair, fingers scratching gentle circular motions against his scalp in a dizzying way that had goose bumps shivering up and down the back of his neck. His other hand cheeks drifting to Shane’s chin and cheek, the back of his knuckles rubbing, fingers grabbing.
They’re kissing, again, slow hot drags of their mouths that are making Shane’s stomach flip and squeeze in a low needy flutter. His legs are spread to either side, knees to Ilya’s hips. One calf is pressed to Ilya’s thigh, the other out further, his toes rubbing their happy rhythm against Ilya’s calf. A small fidget he did when he was content, to comfort, usually as he drifted to sleep- but apparently when Ilya Rozanov kissed him incoherent too.
Shanes hands have been roaming, from holding Ilya’s face between his palms, to through his curls, over the back of his neck. His nails gentle up and down the bare skin of Ilya’s back, occasionally finding stray droplet left over from the shower. His body is holding the heat from it, so fucking warm and solid between Shane’s legs. Shane can’t stop thinking about the fact Ilya’s going to sleep in bed with him tonight. They have all night.
The thought makes Shane shiver and Ilya presses down into Shane in response, hand slides from his hair and down, arm slides between Shane and the floor, hand clasped to Shane’s hip, strong forearm spanning his back and he pulls Shane up into him. Shane tightens his leg around Ilya’s body, hands rub over Ilya’s broad shoulders in a silent reply. Ilya pulls back for a breath, nuzzles his mouth against Shane’s skin as he knocks their noses together.
“Okie?” He asks in a soft low cadence, and his arms squeezes around Shane, hand wiggling to the under the fabric of his sweatshirt, against skin.
Shane nods and with a small motion of his head ilya is connecting their lips again, a tiny almost sweet peck before he’s licking into Shane’s mouth in a way that makes the back of his neck heat. Ilya sinks into him and kisses him like he’s starving, like this itself is sex, like he’s inside Shane. It feels like it, Shane can feel the ghost of that connection with how they are pressed tight, close.
Their sound of their lips is slick and loud, and Shane can hear the rush of his own heartbeat in his ears, the rustle of their clothes together. He’s not grinning on Ilya, and Ilya is pushing down into him, but there are these tiny presses of their hips, half hard- but not seeking anything further, not chasing, just content in the connection of their bodies in every place they can manage.
Ilya’s tongue draws back and Shane catches Ilya’s top lip with teeth and tongue, Ilya’s mouth tastes like his, their shared spit. Shane’s fingers find the shape of Ilya’s earlobe, thumb starts to rub over it softly, and it makes Ilya whine, like Shane knows it does, because he knows, knows very well how Ilya Rozanov kisses, how he likes to be kissed back. Ilya’s hand squeezes Shane’s hip, pulls him in tighter, drags his tongue over Shane’s, licks up over the roof of his mouth and Shane shivers. His jaw aches with the stretch of the kiss as Ilya licks into his mouth hungry.
Then the oven beeps, loud and jarring and Shane’s first thought is what the fuck? But then- oh- dinner. They had put the potatoes and vegetables to roast in the oven an hour ago and chicken legs half an hour ago. Shane had been going to find deck of cards he knew was in the living room because he had told Ilya he would to teach him how to play Cribbage. Ilya had already asked if they could play strip cribbage. Shane didn’t think it would be possible but he was sure Ilya would find a way.
He’d been leant over the coffee table, digging in a draw for the cards when Ilya had found him, a slap to his bent over ass, before his hands pulled Shane back into him. Shane had told him to fuck off and Ilya had said no and then Shane had jabbed at his side, Ilya had flicked Shane’s ear and then they were on the carpet slapping hands away. Then, as with the pace of the day it seemed, they were kissing again.
Shane pulls back with a gasp from the kiss. “Dinner. Ilya- we need to” Ilya’s mouth was already back on his own. Shane’s hands slid to Ilya hair, pulled, turned his head away from Ilya’s mouth. The alarm was still going off.
“It’ll burn” Shane sighs, shivers when Ilya’s mouth finds his jaw, kisses and licks at the warm skin.
“In a minute” Ilya rumbles back and drags his teeth over the light already fading hickey he left there this morning.
Shane sighs, heat rushes at the feeling and he swallows, wriggles under Ilya’s frame.
“You’ll be so” Shane’s voice is breathy and he clears his throat. “So annoying if I don’t feed you” and then Shane feels Ilya laugh against his throat.
“You have fed me plenty” Ilya grumbles back, hand sliding down to take a handful of Shane’s ass, voice heavy with innuendo.
“Shut up” Shane bitches and pinches Ilya’s side in the way he doesn’t like, and says “dinner Ilya dinner” and Ilya whines and pulls back. Shane bits back a whine at the loss of Ilya’s warmth, despite knowing Ilya getting up is how they will achieve making sure dinner isn’t burnt.
Shane’s hands, now with no Ilya to hold, lay by his sides and he looks up at Ilya up on his knees between Shane’s legs, looking down at him. His necklace swings and the light catches the glint of gold. He’s all tanned skin, corded muscle and moles in the low light. There’s a bruise from Shane’s mouth in his ribs. Shane licks his lips and he wants Ilya to fuck him again. The oven alarm beeps ever strong in the distance. Shane lets out a short breath through his nose.
“Come on then, up, mr dinner Ilya dinner, I thought this was urgent and you are just laying on floor” Ilya teases and Shane kicks his heel into Ilya’s ass.
“I will help with my big muscles don’t worry” Ilya smirks and then he’s pulling Shane up with the arm under his back, till Shane is sat over Ilya’s hips in his kneeling position.
Suddenly they are close again, breath mingling between the mouths. Ilya’s mouth is bitten dark, his thicker upper lip swollen. His mouth shines in the low light of the cottage with his and Shane’s spit. It makes Shane’s cock pulse. Something swells in his chest. Shane squirms in Ilya’s lap and Ilya’s arm tightens around him, a firm grip that anchors him closer. Shane’s eyes dart up Ilya’s and he can see Ilya’s eyes staring at his mouth, dark and lidded. Ilya’s hand is on his face then and his thumb is making circles over Shane’s mouth. It feels like an old bruise, a muscle that aches after training. His lips throb.
“Mm” Ilya’s hum is low and maybe involuntary and Shane feels it vibrate through his own, and oh- when did they get that close again.
Then Ilya is kissing him again, soft pecks all over Shane’s mouth, closed mouth kisses that make Shane’s toes start working their wriggle again.
Ilya’s licking into his mouth and Shane’s hands are catching Ilyas face, and he’s been kissing Ilya for a decade, but it’s that same stupid heavy rush it had been when he was a teenager and all he could think was oh, that’s what kissing is because any kiss before it had seemed like it must be something else entirely, it didn’t even live in the same universe.
Shane made a soft sound, head heavy with the thought of their first kiss, the thought of Ilya knowing how to kiss him so well, of knowing just what Shane likes, being just what Shane likes. The taste of Ilya’s mouth being a comfort, a home. Shane pushes his hips down, pulls at the back of Ilya’s neck, sucks Ilya’s tongue into his mouth and- and then Ilya is pulling his mouth away with a slick sound and Shane whimpers, frowns.
“Dinner Shane, dinner” Ilya whispers and Shane puts his have over Ilya’s face, before he clambers up.
Ilya’s footsteps are quick behind him.
The get the food out the oven, it goes half cold, Shane’s ass pressed against the oven, Ilya pressing into him, hands cupping his jaw open.
Okay okay it's late I can post a sneaky dark fic premise shush nobody say anything SHUSH!!!
Basically, kidnapper au where Ilya holds Shane hostage at his own cottage. Shane is initially tied up and bound BUT he gradually gains certain "privileges" as time goes on and he behaves - bathroom, showers (all escorted and supervised), no manacles while he sleeps, longer chains so he can move around, even leisure activities later down the line. The only constant is he stays blindfolded the entire time and Ilya never speaks.
Eventually, the sensory deprivation makes Shane wholly dependent on Ilya as his sole source of companionship, specifically Ilya's touch because it's the only point of human contact he has. Shane becomes so reliant on Ilya that eventually the worst punishment Ilya can dole out is just,,, leaving him alone. Shane is always so desperately panicked when Ilya returns, so so grateful, big heaving sobs as he clings to Ilya, as he begs him not to do it ever again, he'll take any other punishment, he'd rather be beaten or starved, he'd let Ilya break his legs, burn him, choke him, anything ANYTHING but being left alone in the dark and the quiet,,,
They're also fucking the entire time, so. The Stockholm syndrome sets in QUICK.
And okay the sensory deprivation is so so important to me. Because Ilya never talks, but Shane slooowly comes to know Ilya's sounds regardless: his grunts of exertion when he's pinning Shane down,,, his harsh panting breaths after a particularly brutal punishment,,, his moans of pleasure when he's inside Shane,,, his derisive little exhalations at Shane's eventual pleading,,, his rolling warm laughter,,, the slow cadence of his breaths during slumber,,,
And then there's the way he smells, the way he tastes,,, the precise texture of his palms, his skin,,, every raised mole, every hair,,, Shane learns it all by heart
@sapphyshipseverything absolutely NAILING the core appeal of the sensory deprivation aspect of this au:
this au was made in a lab for me you have no idea!!!!!! I’m also thinking that the sensory deprivation really helps to make Shane even more submissive and desperate to please. Because he gets so little sensory input and so few indications of Ilya’s pleasure/displeasure with him, every tiny scrap of information is blown up to epic proportions in his mind, every bit of feedback feeling like a life or death situation. Like now the quietest, bitten back moan Ilya makes as he pushes inside Shane makes him feel victorious, the slight exhale of breath through his nose when he’s displeased makes him feel suicidal, the sound of Ilya’s hand as it slaps his face feels like relief, because he’s still worthy of being corrected. He grows to hate his own sounds because they drown that feedback out, begs for a gag because he wants to be able to hear Ilya better, kisses his feet in relief when he lets him wear one.
(I think if Ilya did decide to talk or let him see him, he would go catatonic for a bit, not just because of the reveal but because being able to see Ilya’s reactions would feel like seeing God. Worshippers aren’t supposed to actually meet their gods, they’re supposed to infer their moods from obscure and confusing signs in the world around them)
The hottest Ilya Rozanov has ever looked is when Shane asks "how could we let this happen?" and you can see Ilya behind him completely lost in the sauce hanging by a tenuous thread having clearly been edged to an inch of his life going at the pace Shane wants like the service top that he is and that vein visibly throbbing and almost popping out of his temple and his eyes are love drunk fuck struck sex crazed staring at Shane's lips and he's sweating his balls off as red as a tomato looking like he's 2 seconds away from having a reunion with his mother and he loves Shane and Shane loves him and he's too hard rn to understand what the actual fuck a rhetorical question is so he answers out of breath with a not contained at all horniness with something about stupid and irresponsible and Shane finally finally says "please fuck me" so he grips Shane's thigh with one hand and his shoulder with the other and starts thrusting like his life depends on it and Shane's gripping his hair and controlling his movements like the freaking rat from ratatouille and he pulls those golden curls hard enough to take out a few strands and Shane's fingers are in his mouth and he sucks on his nipples so hard he almost has him lactating and the windows are open and the sun is shining and it's a perfect fucking sight.
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