it is a widely known fact that one should not bother themselves to ask hollanov for any relationship advice because most of the time it involves psychological warfare, but i think the elder centaurs have a more understanding outlook on it compared to the rookies. like young would complain to bood about shane not helpful in the gf advice sector and how they’re insane for doing what they did etc, and bood would glance over and say, “well were you ever afraid of losing your career or passport because you kiss your girlfriend?” and young just 😐 point taken. like the older guys hang out with shane and ilya a lot more often and have watched most of their careers, so i believe they have a more empathetic stance on it all, and the cens overall did find a few particular areas that hollanov are very good at, mostly taking care of your partner
four line sentences are good and okay. its cool. you dont need to end your setnence or that thought! add another comma or an em dash. everything will be okay. it makes sense and flows well. #awesome #mybehemothsentence
i wanted to say something about cliff and ilya rating each others nudes
first of all they absolutely rate each others nudes, sometimes they send them not even with the intention to send the nudes so someone else, just for the hell of it, just to have the other saying hell yeah brother looking good, just to boost self esteem
second of all while the idea of them 10/10ing each picture is funny and appealing to me, i had a vision in which i saw the most meticulous earnest constructive criticism in order to help the other achieve absolute perfection
-(a dick pic, full light) move your hand down a bit, will make it seem bigger and maybe turn down the light a bit, give it an aura of mystery
-(navel to mid thigh, a giant hickey right where the pubes line starts) damn roz, who did this to you? (ilya says you should see the other guy. marley doesn’t catch on)
-(mirror selfie, full frontal) marley don’t you have a mirror outside of the bathroom? the toilet in the background is a bit of a buzzkill
-(hands down pants, dick fully erect) love the vibe but there is a giant hole in your boxers, maybe change those
-(bedroom vanity mirror, sweaty abs) damn roz someone in the bed with you? the lightnings dope but don’t send this to anyone with someone with an ass like that in the background
ilya speaks so much russian when they have sex that shane’s tail starts wagging out of habit whenever he hears him use it outside of their bedroom. their car mechanic happens to be russian and when ilya calls the guy to talk about bringing his car in for an oil change shane is approximately two seconds away from dropping to his knees because he knows he’s doing a good job when ilya’s english starts to fail and he switches to speaking russian
i just imagine the oldies at david’s mcgill hockey team is jealous as fuck like what do you MEAN his son and son in law are THE HOCKEY GUYS like the best ones. some of them tried to get their child to date a hockey player and didn’t even succeed but david hollander not only is the father of the best hockey player but also the father in law of the other best hockey player??? i swear he’s living the dream of some of his old teammates they hate to see a uni reunion coming
the first couple of practices with boston, ilya keeps hearing his new teammates call out “big red.” he’s still learning english but he knows enough to figure out it’s a nickname. and by the end of the week, he is annoyed and is like, “this is dumb name. not funny at all. you call me ‘red’ because i’m russian? so lame.” and then his teammates have to be like, “no, no dude. ‘big red’ is our nickname for marly because his first name is cliff, which is short for clifford.” and ilya’s like ???
and that’s how the entire team ends up spending their friday night watching clifford the big red dog with 19-year-old ilya rozanov.
i’m honestly not sure if Hollanov would ever have kids, but i feel like if they did, it would happen in the most unconventional way.
Like maybe one day Ilya and Shane start housing teenage hockey players that are traveling to go to their camps. And one of these kids is a young boy who has a bad temper. He talks back to the coaches, he starts fights on the ice for no reason, and a lot of the other kids really don’t like him. But Ilya notices that maybe there’s a reason he’s acting this way, and when he tells Shane that he thinks there’s something going on with the kid, Shane starts investigating almost immediately. Soon enough they find out that the kid is in foster care, his parents kicked him for whatever reason (although in my brain said teen would probably be some form of queer and his parents would not like that) and now the kid is basically jumping around housed. And that’s when Shane and Ilya decide to help him. At first it’s small stuff, they take him on outings. They buy him gifts. They try to make him feel loved. And then all of a sudden it’s this kids last day at the Hollanov house, and for the first time Shane and Ilya watch this extremely guarded kid cry because he doesn’t want to go back to jumping around houses. He wants to stay there and play hockey. Unfortunately, due to all the legality, he can’t stay. But that night Ilya and Shane started the process to become foster parents. And one day the kid comes back for camp, but instead of leaving after the summer, he gets to stay.
at the start of every month everyone reblogs some insane poetry that’s like “august has arrived and again I swallow my bones in the burning sun” and every time I’m like damn that makes no sense. but kind of true.
the communications team takes the ottawa centaurs to a baseball field to make a funny video for the fans showing if they’re good at any sports other than hockey. and all of them try to play, pitching and catching and hitting (i have no idea how to play this game im not from a country where this is popular so im just inspired by the hockey teams videos i saw on tiktok) and it’s a mess for most of them, they’re clearly hockey players who have never held a baseball in their lives. but then shane and ilya step up and just do everything perfectly, like they’ve been playing their whole lives and the final half of the video ends up being just them going against each other to see who can throw faster, who can hit farther, who can catch more accurately. of course they’re ridiculously competitive about it and the rest of the centaurs is just standing there watching like “okay we get it you’re both freaks”. and people on the internet get so annoyed (affectionately) “wtf why can they play everything?” and “are they even human?” and “of course they’re good at this too, of course”
He does everything in extremes: he likes hockey, so he is the best. He is a public figure, so his image is perfect. He was never good at math, so he can’t really divide a recipe without a lot of work. He’s healthy, so he has a diet that people tell him is obsessive. If he breaks down, he will do so fully— there is no crying and moving on for him.
If he breaks, he is a wildfire: a once-in-a-generation tragedy that happens every ten years now, a raging, uncontainable inferno encroaching into people’s livelihoods, a hot, burning thing visible from space that creates its own winds and blocks out the sky. He is a match in a dry field on a hot, windy day; with a single strike, a single break, he will light up everything, tearing through cities, burning homes and people and trees and everything else in his path.
Everyone breaks down and cries sometimes, or so people tell him. They tell him crying is healthy, necessary, that if he bottles up all his emotions it will be worse when they finally break out. It’s allegedly normal to cry a few times a year to a few times a month—it’s normal for forests to catch fire every few decades, it keeps them healthy. Not him though, Shane Hollander doesn’t cry.
In the 1930’s, the US government pioneered a new forest management policy: they, lead by Smokey the bear, would work to stop all wildfires in their tracks. The park bloomed and blossomed, millions of acres of land covered in verdant tress and greenery, not a single black scar on the land. (Not a single scratch on his reputation). The condescending little bear did his job a little too well; Yellowstone was covered in dry debris and thick under brush, all waiting to create a raging inferno.
The park was beautiful. Everyone said so. (Shane was a great role model. Everyone said so).
By 1964, Park Rangers started allowing small fires to burn, that weren’t endangering life or property. If the were in the background, if the undesirable aspects were barely noticeable (anglicized, quietly gay, barely out), it was fine. Things couldn’t be perfect all the time, there had to be tiny cracks as long as no one could see. (No one saw him on the side of the road, sobbing uncontrollably in his car after seeing Ilya in the Montreal club). Everything was good, practically perfect—there was no need for people to concern themselves about hypothetical future problems.
In 1988, everything blew up. Fires started naturally and quickly grew out of control, accelerated by the dry fuel on the forest floor. High winds and drought spurred them forwards, starting new fires ahead that merged into each other, jumping rivers, roads, and fire lines. Hundreds of thousands of acres burned in a short period of time, blowing smoke into cities miles and miles away, destroying the park, according to many.
His inevitable mental break will be no ordinary week off, the fire will be no ordinary wildfire. It will blaze though neighbourhoods, fuelled by dry conditions and high winds; it will blaze through the hockey community and beyond, fuelled by the people’s need to see thing fall apart and homophobia. His breakdown will not burn out on it’s own; it will takes teams and teams of people to help him stop destroying everything, all while news vans circle and speculate what could have caused it. Arson? Stress? Climate change, homophobia, giant space lasers, gay people’s predisposition to breaking down and ruining hockey—so many different explanations, each more interesting than the last until people are making things up and pretending it’s true.
Shane will be stuck in hell, burning up, and people will wonder what this means for the Centaur’s playoff chances. He might be hospitalized, and does that mean there’s a deeper problem in men’s sports, could toxic masculinity be bad? No, he should suck it up. Maybe if he tried not being a whiny bitch he’d be fine, maybe if he managed things better. No amount of nebulous “forest management” can stop the fire, it is no match for all the stress, all the dead, drying problems beneath the canopy, waiting for their time to burn. No amount of deep breathing and strategy meetings can stop it, not really. It doesn’t matter what starts it, only that it starts; the cause, the reasons can be decided upon after and discussed ad nauseam, but the general populace will eventually conclude it was a one-time thing. An isolated incident. Some people will make video essays about the pressures that lead to Shane Hollander’s mental breakdown, and maybe they will address the root caused, but it will still be Shane’s. It will always be his fault the sun burned him under the magnifying glass.
Scientifically, Yellowstone grew back stronger, healthier; fire cleared the dead under brush, and the trees in the area are fire adapted; many trees survived with scars, and the fire opened up pine cones for new trees to grow from. People didn’t care about that part though. Recovery took decades, and people demand closure immediately—by the time the forests recovered, people had forgotten about the 1988 fires and moved onto the next tragedy. Yellowstone never got so much attention as the time it burned; it is still popular, still beloved by millions, but it hasn’t gotten the international attention in the same way since. It has blended back in with the myriad of public lands in North America, known prominently by geologists and outdoorsmen.
Occasionally, when third rate news sites are bored they talk about the massive volcanic caldera underneath the park, and how it would cause a rapid, mass extinction event if it happened. There is no scientific backing for it happening for at least another 750 years, but its horrible and exciting and far more interesting than how healthy the ecosystem is after the fires.
Disasters are interesting; recovery is not. Watching him have a full, public breakdown is far more interesting than wading though the months and months of recovery and regrowth. Ilya will be there, but how many others will? How many people will leave him, deem him not worth it?
He does everything in extremes: he likes hockey, so he is the best. He is a public figure, so his image is perfect. He was never good at math, so he can’t really divide a recipe without a lot of work. He’s healthy, so he has a diet that people tell him is obsessive. If he breaks down, he will do so fully— there is no crying and moving on for him.
If he breaks, he is a wildfire: a once-in-a-generation tragedy that happens every ten years now, a raging, uncontainable inferno encroaching into people’s livelihoods, a hot, burning thing visible from space that creates its own winds and blocks out the sky. He is a match in a dry field on a hot, windy day; with a single strike, a single break, he will light up everything, tearing through cities, burning homes and people and trees and everything else in his path.
Everyone breaks down and cries sometimes, or so people tell him. They tell him crying is healthy, necessary, that if he bottles up all his emotions it will be worse when they finally break out. It’s allegedly normal to cry a few times a year to a few times a month—it’s normal for forests to catch fire every few decades, it keeps them healthy. Not him though, Shane Hollander doesn’t cry.
In the 1930’s, the US government pioneered a new forest management policy: they, lead by Smokey the bear, would work to stop all wildfires in their tracks. The park bloomed and blossomed, millions of acres of land covered in verdant tress and greenery, not a single black scar on the land. (Not a single scratch on his reputation). The condescending little bear did his job a little too well; Yellowstone was covered in dry debris and thick under brush, all waiting to create a raging inferno.
The park was beautiful. Everyone said so. (Shane was a great role model. Everyone said so).
By 1964, Park Rangers started allowing small fires to burn, that weren’t endangering life or property. If the were in the background, if the undesirable aspects were barely noticeable (anglicized, quietly gay, barely out), it was fine. Things couldn’t be perfect all the time, there had to be tiny cracks as long as no one could see. (No one saw him on the side of the road, sobbing uncontrollably in his car after seeing Ilya in the Montreal club). Everything was good, practically perfect—there was no need for people to concern themselves about hypothetical future problems.
In 1988, everything blew up. Fires started naturally and quickly grew out of control, accelerated by the dry fuel on the forest floor. High winds and drought spurred them forwards, starting new fires ahead that merged into each other, jumping rivers, roads, and fire lines. Hundreds of thousands of acres burned in a short period of time, blowing smoke into cities miles and miles away, destroying the park, according to many.
His inevitable mental break will be no ordinary week off, the fire will be no ordinary wildfire. It will blaze though neighbourhoods, fuelled by dry conditions and high winds; it will blaze through the hockey community and beyond, fuelled by the people’s need to see thing fall apart and homophobia. His breakdown will not burn out on it’s own; it will takes teams and teams of people to help him stop destroying everything, all while news vans circle and speculate what could have caused it. Arson? Stress? Climate change, homophobia, giant space lasers, gay people’s predisposition to breaking down and ruining hockey—so many different explanations, each more interesting than the last until people are making things up and pretending it’s true.
Shane will be stuck in hell, burning up, and people will wonder what this means for the Centaur’s playoff chances. He might be hospitalized, and does that mean there’s a deeper problem in men’s sports, could toxic masculinity be bad? No, he should suck it up. Maybe if he tried not being a whiny bitch he’d be fine, maybe if he managed things better. No amount of nebulous “forest management” can stop the fire, it is no match for all the stress, all the dead, drying problems beneath the canopy, waiting for their time to burn. No amount of deep breathing and strategy meetings can stop it, not really. It doesn’t matter what starts it, only that it starts; the cause, the reasons can be decided upon after and discussed ad nauseam, but the general populace will eventually conclude it was a one-time thing. An isolated incident. Some people will make video essays about the pressures that lead to Shane Hollander’s mental breakdown, and maybe they will address the root caused, but it will still be Shane’s. It will always be his fault the sun burned him under the magnifying glass.
Scientifically, Yellowstone grew back stronger, healthier; fire cleared the dead under brush, and the trees in the area are fire adapted; many trees survived with scars, and the fire opened up pine cones for new trees to grow from. People didn’t care about that part though. Recovery took decades, and people demand closure immediately—by the time the forests recovered, people had forgotten about the 1988 fires and moved onto the next tragedy. Yellowstone never got so much attention as the time it burned; it is still popular, still beloved by millions, but it hasn’t gotten the international attention in the same way since. It has blended back in with the myriad of public lands in North America, known prominently by geologists and outdoorsmen.
Occasionally, when third rate news sites are bored they talk about the massive volcanic caldera underneath the park, and how it would cause a rapid, mass extinction event if it happened. There is no scientific backing for it happening for at least another 750 years, but its horrible and exciting and far more interesting than how healthy the ecosystem is after the fires.
Disasters are interesting; recovery is not. Watching him have a full, public breakdown is far more interesting than wading though the months and months of recovery and regrowth. Ilya will be there, but how many others will? How many people will leave him, deem him not worth it?
He does everything in extremes: he likes hockey, so he is the best. He is a public figure, so his image is perfect. He was never good at math, so he can’t really divide a recipe without a lot of work. He’s healthy, so he has a diet that people tell him is obsessive. If he breaks down, he will do so fully— there is no crying and moving on for him.
If he breaks, he is a wildfire: a once-in-a-generation tragedy that happens every ten years now, a raging, uncontainable inferno encroaching into people’s livelihoods, a hot, burning thing visible from space that creates its own winds and blocks out the sky. He is a match in a dry field on a hot, windy day; with a single strike, a single break, he will light up everything, tearing through cities, burning homes and people and trees and everything else in his path.
Everyone breaks down and cries sometimes, or so people tell him. They tell him crying is healthy, necessary, that if he bottles up all his emotions it will be worse when they finally break out. It’s allegedly normal to cry a few times a year to a few times a month—it’s normal for forests to catch fire every few decades, it keeps them healthy. Not him though, Shane Hollander doesn’t cry.
In the 1930’s, the US government pioneered a new forest management policy: they, lead by Smokey the bear, would work to stop all wildfires in their tracks. The park bloomed and blossomed, millions of acres of land covered in verdant tress and greenery, not a single black scar on the land. (Not a single scratch on his reputation). The condescending little bear did his job a little too well; Yellowstone was covered in dry debris and thick under brush, all waiting to create a raging inferno.
The park was beautiful. Everyone said so. (Shane was a great role model. Everyone said so).
By 1964, Park Rangers started allowing small fires to burn, that weren’t endangering life or property. If the were in the background, if the undesirable aspects were barely noticeable (anglicized, quietly gay, barely out), it was fine. Things couldn’t be perfect all the time, there had to be tiny cracks as long as no one could see. (No one saw him on the side of the road, sobbing uncontrollably in his car after seeing Ilya in the Montreal club). Everything was good, practically perfect—there was no need for people to concern themselves about hypothetical future problems.
In 1988, everything blew up. Fires started naturally and quickly grew out of control, accelerated by the dry fuel on the forest floor. High winds and drought spurred them forwards, starting new fires ahead that merged into each other, jumping rivers, roads, and fire lines. Hundreds of thousands of acres burned in a short period of time, blowing smoke into cities miles and miles away, destroying the park, according to many.
His inevitable mental break will be no ordinary week off, the fire will be no ordinary wildfire. It will blaze though neighbourhoods, fuelled by dry conditions and high winds; it will blaze through the hockey community and beyond, fuelled by the people’s need to see thing fall apart and homophobia. His breakdown will not burn out on it’s own; it will takes teams and teams of people to help him stop destroying everything, all while news vans circle and speculate what could have caused it. Arson? Stress? Climate change, homophobia, giant space lasers, gay people’s predisposition to breaking down and ruining hockey—so many different explanations, each more interesting than the last until people are making things up and pretending it’s true.
Shane will be stuck in hell, burning up, and people will wonder what this means for the Centaur’s playoff chances. He might be hospitalized, and does that mean there’s a deeper problem in men’s sports, could toxic masculinity be bad? No, he should suck it up. Maybe if he tried not being a whiny bitch he’d be fine, maybe if he managed things better. No amount of nebulous “forest management” can stop the fire, it is no match for all the stress, all the dead, drying problems beneath the canopy, waiting for their time to burn. No amount of deep breathing and strategy meetings can stop it, not really. It doesn’t matter what starts it, only that it starts; the cause, the reasons can be decided upon after and discussed ad nauseam, but the general populace will eventually conclude it was a one-time thing. An isolated incident. Some people will make video essays about the pressures that lead to Shane Hollander’s mental breakdown, and maybe they will address the root caused, but it will still be Shane’s. It will always be his fault the sun burned him under the magnifying glass.
Scientifically, Yellowstone grew back stronger, healthier; fire cleared the dead under brush, and the trees in the area are fire adapted; many trees survived with scars, and the fire opened up pine cones for new trees to grow from. People didn’t care about that part though. Recovery took decades, and people demand closure immediately—by the time the forests recovered, people had forgotten about the 1988 fires and moved onto the next tragedy. Yellowstone never got so much attention as the time it burned; it is still popular, still beloved by millions, but it hasn’t gotten the international attention in the same way since. It has blended back in with the myriad of public lands in North America, known prominently by geologists and outdoorsmen.
Occasionally, when third rate news sites are bored they talk about the massive volcanic caldera underneath the park, and how it would cause a rapid, mass extinction event if it happened. There is no scientific backing for it happening for at least another 750 years, but its horrible and exciting and far more interesting than how healthy the ecosystem is after the fires.
Disasters are interesting; recovery is not. Watching him have a full, public breakdown is far more interesting than wading though the months and months of recovery and regrowth. Ilya will be there, but how many others will? How many people will leave him, deem him not worth it?
He does everything in extremes: he likes hockey, so he is the best. He is a public figure, so his image is perfect. He was never good at math, so he can’t really divide a recipe without a lot of work. He’s healthy, so he has a diet that people tell him is obsessive. If he breaks down, he will do so fully— there is no crying and moving on for him.
If he breaks, he is a wildfire: a once-in-a-generation tragedy that happens every ten years now, a raging, uncontainable inferno encroaching into people’s livelihoods, a hot, burning thing visible from space that creates its own winds and blocks out the sky. He is a match in a dry field on a hot, windy day; with a single strike, a single break, he will light up everything, tearing through cities, burning homes and people and trees and everything else in his path.
Everyone breaks down and cries sometimes, or so people tell him. They tell him crying is healthy, necessary, that if he bottles up all his emotions it will be worse when they finally break out. It’s allegedly normal to cry a few times a year to a few times a month—it’s normal for forests to catch fire every few decades, it keeps them healthy. Not him though, Shane Hollander doesn’t cry.
In the 1930’s, the US government pioneered a new forest management policy: they, lead by Smokey the bear, would work to stop all wildfires in their tracks. The park bloomed and blossomed, millions of acres of land covered in verdant tress and greenery, not a single black scar on the land. (Not a single scratch on his reputation). The condescending little bear did his job a little too well; Yellowstone was covered in dry debris and thick under brush, all waiting to create a raging inferno.
The park was beautiful. Everyone said so. (Shane was a great role model. Everyone said so).
By 1964, Park Rangers started allowing small fires to burn, that weren’t endangering life or property. If the were in the background, if the undesirable aspects were barely noticeable (anglicized, quietly gay, barely out), it was fine. Things couldn’t be perfect all the time, there had to be tiny cracks as long as no one could see. (No one saw him on the side of the road, sobbing uncontrollably in his car after seeing Ilya in the Montreal club). Everything was good, practically perfect—there was no need for people to concern themselves about hypothetical future problems.
In 1988, everything blew up. Fires started naturally and quickly grew out of control, accelerated by the dry fuel on the forest floor. High winds and drought spurred them forwards, starting new fires ahead that merged into each other, jumping rivers, roads, and fire lines. Hundreds of thousands of acres burned in a short period of time, blowing smoke into cities miles and miles away, destroying the park, according to many.
His inevitable mental break will be no ordinary week off, the fire will be no ordinary wildfire. It will blaze though neighbourhoods, fuelled by dry conditions and high winds; it will blaze through the hockey community and beyond, fuelled by the people’s need to see thing fall apart and homophobia. His breakdown will not burn out on it’s own; it will takes teams and teams of people to help him stop destroying everything, all while news vans circle and speculate what could have caused it. Arson? Stress? Climate change, homophobia, giant space lasers, gay people’s predisposition to breaking down and ruining hockey—so many different explanations, each more interesting than the last until people are making things up and pretending it’s true.
Shane will be stuck in hell, burning up, and people will wonder what this means for the Centaur’s playoff chances. He might be hospitalized, and does that mean there’s a deeper problem in men’s sports, could toxic masculinity be bad? No, he should suck it up. Maybe if he tried not being a whiny bitch he’d be fine, maybe if he managed things better. No amount of nebulous “forest management” can stop the fire, it is no match for all the stress, all the dead, drying problems beneath the canopy, waiting for their time to burn. No amount of deep breathing and strategy meetings can stop it, not really. It doesn’t matter what starts it, only that it starts; the cause, the reasons can be decided upon after and discussed ad nauseam, but the general populace will eventually conclude it was a one-time thing. An isolated incident. Some people will make video essays about the pressures that lead to Shane Hollander’s mental breakdown, and maybe they will address the root caused, but it will still be Shane’s. It will always be his fault the sun burned him under the magnifying glass.
Scientifically, Yellowstone grew back stronger, healthier; fire cleared the dead under brush, and the trees in the area are fire adapted; many trees survived with scars, and the fire opened up pine cones for new trees to grow from. People didn’t care about that part though. Recovery took decades, and people demand closure immediately—by the time the forests recovered, people had forgotten about the 1988 fires and moved onto the next tragedy. Yellowstone never got so much attention as the time it burned; it is still popular, still beloved by millions, but it hasn’t gotten the international attention in the same way since. It has blended back in with the myriad of public lands in North America, known prominently by geologists and outdoorsmen.
Occasionally, when third rate news sites are bored they talk about the massive volcanic caldera underneath the park, and how it would cause a rapid, mass extinction event if it happened. There is no scientific backing for it happening for at least another 750 years, but its horrible and exciting and far more interesting than how healthy the ecosystem is after the fires.
Disasters are interesting; recovery is not. Watching him have a full, public breakdown is far more interesting than wading though the months and months of recovery and regrowth. Ilya will be there, but how many others will? How many people will leave him, deem him not worth it?
we all bleed the same @wemightnevermakeitout - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
