cryviolets



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    What was he supposed to say? Yes, Hollander. I have a soulmate. All I know is that he has played hockey in Canada before. Oh, that could apply to the entire league? Oh, that could apply to you? Oh, you are now having a panic attack in my bed?

    Yes. That would not have gone well. 

    (Or: Soulmate AU where the marks that appear on your body appear on theirs. Ilya finds out that Shane is his soulmate long before Shane does. They are idiots in love.)

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    15 Feb 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The doorbell rings just as Shane is finishing brushing his teeth – the first thing they rose to do, because he wants to kiss Ilya good morning – and he and Ilya exchange a confused look in the bathroom mirror. It's barely dawn, and Ilya's curls are adorably tousled from sleep as he scratches his ribs lazily, toothbrush dangling from the corner of his mouth. 

    Shane hesitates, then rinses his toothpaste out and runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck, it's probably anti-doping."

    No one else would be here at this hour – unless it's an emergency.

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    14 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    They’re getting into a rhythm now, though, and Shane can see it. He can see this team winning the Cup this year. He tries not to get ahead of himself, tries to stay focused and go game by game, reminds himself that building up a team takes time and several seasons, but god. He wants this legacy: for himself, for Ottawa, for Ilya. For both of them and everyone else.

    Which is why, goddamnit, now is not the time to crash out over fantasies of Ilya working his whole hand down to the wrist into Shane’s ass and fucking him on his fist. And yet. Shane should know by now that timing and “good ideas” are rarely factors in whether or not he gets obsessed with something.

    OR:

    It starts, as a surprising number of things actually do, with a text from Rose.

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    12 Feb 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    The Ballad of Shane Hollander's Tits

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    10 Feb 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Holy shit, dude,” Hayden whispers, too loudly, as he pulls Shane away. “No way you were just talking to Ilya Rozanov.”

    “Uh, yeah. We just met. Wait, did he lie to me?” Shane asks, looking back over his shoulder where Ilya is now standing next to a short but very muscular woman with long black hair. “What does he play?”

    Hayden stops, so Shane does too.

    “You don’t know who that was?” 

    Shane makes a face that says ‘no shit’, and waits for an answer. 

    “Dude. You are so innocent. Ilya Rozanov, ‘Russia’s Greatest Love Machine’?” Hayden says, like it’s obvious. 

    Shane looks at him blankly, and then Hayden laughs. Not like, a chuckle. He full on cackles, bending over like he can’t even contain it. “Man, he’s like prolific.”

    “At what?” Shane snaps, because he’s getting really sick of not being in on the joke. 

    “He’s a porn star, man.” 

    “A-” Shane says, swallowing thickly. “What?” 

    ---

    Ilya is a porn star, Shane is a hockey player, and their paths cross.

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    09 Feb 2026