Watsonite



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  1. Public Bookmark *

    Words:
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    15 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “You named your coin after the stupid wolf bird?”

    I didn't. The country did, I guess. I don't know, I never really thought about it.” He paused for a second, then smirked. “A two dollar coin is called a toonie.”


    Or: Four times Ilya Rozanov thought a Canadian word was stupid, and one time he was on Canada's side.

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    14 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    No one is going to win a Pulitzer interviewing him, and Shane is okay with that. He spends most interviews rephrasing the same five sentiments--I’m happy we won or We need to work harder after that loss.

    They are a good team; the win was hard fought or They are a good team; there is a lot for us to take away.

    And finally: I love playing on this team, for our fans.

    Then Ilya Rozanov bursts into his life, and answering questions becomes a little more complicated.

    or: Shane Hollander, interviewee, throughout the years.

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    13 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane doesn't even have to look up to know that Ilya is grinning, a feral, vicious thing as he knots his fingers in Shane's hair and tugs, just hard enough for Shane to let out a whine. The dull ache reverberates down his nerves, as he opens his mouth and pants, sucking down lungful after lungful of Ilya's sweat and musk, salt straight from his skin as he noses at the hem of his shirt.

    “Is good, we won,” Ilya murmurs, stroking his hand through Shane's hair. “Have been wanting to show—have been wanting to give prize.” He pauses, and Shane knows his next words are going to be a cruel gift, a dagger of lust straight between his ribs. “And Hollander has been eager to show off, yes? Three goals,”—he whistles, low and mocking as Shane shifts at his feet, his ears burning as Ilya cups the back of his head, scratching blunt nails over his scalp—“is like he needed to prove how bad he wants.”

    OR: Ottawa wins the Stanley Cup. Everyone gets a reward.

    Series
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    10 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “H’rder,” Shane whines into his mouth, not even trying to interrupt the kiss but speaking pathetically muffled and slurred around Ilya’s tongue.

    Ilya knocks their foreheads together, smiles.

    Nooooo Ilya, not before the game, Ilya,” he whines, a sweetly mocking imitation of Shane, “and now look at you, mhm? Why should I ever listen to your complaining, baby, when you’re gonna be such an easy, perfect slut for it anyways?”

    Or: Shane plays four-dimensional chess to get Ilya to fuck him even when he tells him no, for Shane-typical control freak reasons, in Shane-typical convoluted ways, with Shane-typical unawareness of this being a sex freak thing. Ilya provides, of course.

    Series
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    English
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    09 May 2026