Fightmeplz



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane Hollander was a Voyageur for ten years. Now he's a Centaur, a husband, and the new guy on a team captained by the man he married. As training camp begins, Shane must navigate a new system, a new locker room, and the terrifying question of who he is when everything that defined him has changed — except the six-foot-three Russian who's loved him since they were seventeen and won't let him forget it.

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    08 Feb 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    When he was seven years old, Shane Hollander was briefly lost at an airport. Luckily, the kindness of a stranger ensured he made it back to his parents safely, putting an end to a terrifying three hours for the Hollanders. It takes twenty years (and one heated rivalry) for Shane to learn the name of his rescuer. It takes twenty years for Ilya to learn his wish had already come true.

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    07 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Alpha.” He let his omega take charge of his tone of voice, his logical thoughts taking the backseat at the moment, and he sounded wrecked. “Please be mine.”

    He felt more than heard Ilya’s chuckle, making him shiver, “I’ve always been yours, Shane.”

    “Bite me, Ilya.”

     

    the mating of two lovedrunk fools.

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    01 Feb 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya’s hand wraps around his bare wrist and squeezes. Shane barely stops himself from collapsing to his knees.

    The pressure lights up every receptor of his touch-starved nervous system, wrenching a small, pained noise from the back of his throat. Every muted sensation comes flooding back so intensely that it almost hurts. He needs Ilya to hold him down until there’s nothing inside him but quiet. He wants to sink into him and disappear.

    It takes Shane an entire beat to remember where they are. Fighting against the fog in his mind, he manages to drag his gaze up to meet Ilya’s.

    There’s a slow-dawning horror and understanding on Ilya’s face.

    *

    Or: Shane is in subdrop after their encounter in Vegas. Ilya fixes it.

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    08 Jan 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Elphaba always wore gloves. They were plain, black, and skintight, and they went up to her elbows.

    Glinda didn’t know why Elphaba's hands entranced her, why she so desperately wanted to pull her gloves off and tangle their fingers together. She didn’t know, either, why she wanted to pull her hair down from that stupid braid and rake her hands through it. It was just one of those impulsive thoughts, she guessed, like how the little voice in the back of your head would whisper, “jump,” at the edge of a cliff.

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    13 Feb 2024