MutifandomZoe



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    “I’m sorry,” Shane chokes, closing his eyes. Rozanov draws his hand, pulling Shane’s with it, to his face and wipes his cheeks.

    “There is nothing to be sorry for, любовь моя, it is okay,” Rozanov murmurs, tugging at Shane’s hair again. Shane exhales, letting him clean his cheeks. “You got overwhelmed, yes? It happens.”

    “I can’t be fucking normal,” Shane says quietly, whining, head falling back, pressing into Rozanov’s hand.

    “No, if you were fucking normal, you would not be my Shane.”

    // shane is a liar, and he's tired of it all. his life falls apart, and he finds that he doesn't actually mind.

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    16 May 2026

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    hollanov’s third 🧚 @hollanovoodoo
    so….did anyone see the way shane had to be held back on the bench when ilya got hit…i don’t think i’ve ever seen him that mad….

    wanda v @hellorhighwater
    montreal’s really done it now i hope they’re scared for their lives

    reagan 𓂀 @shilya_hollanov
    his face when the refs called double minor….i fear we’re gonna see a shane hollander we’ve NEVER seen before in the last period

    Or, Shane Hollander plays Montreal for the first time since becoming a Centaur. It goes about as well as he expects.

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    12 May 2026

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    11 May 2026

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    “Are you Rozanov’s whore now? You will catch something, Hollander. He’s a walking STD. Pathetic.” Drapeau joined in, his tone mocking Shane as if he had any leg to stand on.

    “What did you just say?” Shane got into Drapeau’s face, his muscular frame swarming the goalie’s body. “Say that again, and I will smash your nose in, Drapeau. Try. Me.”

    He was snarling into his face, spit flying everywhere. Hayden and J.J came to try to separate them, but Shane didn’t let them. “I will end your fucking career if you ever speak about him.”

    or: the protective shane fic

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    11 May 2026

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    “Come on,” Comeau says. “Are we all just supposed to pretend it's normal that you’re still playing house with Ilya Rozanov?”

    “Gil—” J.J. says, but Shane doesn’t want him to finish that sentence, to pull Comeau gently off the ledge he’s steering himself toward. Shane wants to push him, kicking and screaming, to make them say it to his fucking face. That after all this time, they still hate him for the heinous crime of falling in love.

    “We’ve been married for two years,” Shane says. “I’m not sure that qualifies as playing house. I mean, it’s longer than you were with your first wife, isn’t it?”

    Or: Shane reunites with his former teammates at J.J.'s bachelor party. He's finally ready to say (and maybe punch) his piece.

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    11 May 2026