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  5. Summary

    a lil collection of all the planet bnha exchange fics I've written :')

    Words:
    17,412
    Works:
    10
    Bookmarks:
    3

Recent bookmarks

  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Summary

    Ilya picks up on the third ring, breathing heavily into the phone. Shane hears a door slam shut through the device. “Do not yell at me.” 

    Shane stares at the half-empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “You suck.”

    “I suck? I scored hat-trick! In your stupid body! I have not eaten in six hours, Hollander. I have not pissed. I have not laid down. I want to go home.” 

    “Rozanov–” 

    “Your mother has called twenty times. Your manager has called thirty times. Your father text me picture of crossword puzzle and ask for help. Clue is about American President from the 1980s. I cannot help!”

    OR: the hollanov bodyswap fic. 

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    22,370
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Collections:
    3
    Comments:
    314
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    9,097
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    02 Jan 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “What the hell,” Shane says, voice jarringly loud. It reverberates through him, his voice lower like this, coming out of his own mouth. Hands trembling, he slaps gently at his own cheeks, unwilling to hit himself any harder in Ilya’s body. He feels the sting of it, anyhow, and feels it again when he tugs at his – now curly and blond – hair.

    *

    He can’t think about that right now; if he lingers on this, he will panic and spiral, and only one of them can have a breakdown at a time.

    *

     

    “You’re in a car?” Shane asks. “Where are you going?”

    “Wherever Taxi takes me. I hope is off bridge.”

    Crackly, distant through the line, Shane hears someone say, “I’m not doing that, sir. We’re just going to the hotel.”

    “If hotel is at bottom of New Jersey river, is fine,” Ilya says.

    *

    His head drops forward, resting against the steering wheel, and then, he screams. He screams until his throat goes hoarse, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

    Because he is a normal, well-adjusted guy, he then clears his throat, turns the key in the ignition, and pulls out of the parking lot. The radio crackles to life, playing Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepson.

    Shane is silent the entire drive back to Ilya’s home, and listens to the song more intently than he has ever listened to any song before.

    *

    His hand flies down to grip himself through his sweatpants before he can think better of it, arousal flaring bright when it occurs to him that this is Ilya’s dick. Ilya, who is uncut and gorgeous– who fucks him like he needs it to breathe, who makes sex feel safe and sexy at the same time, who knows how to reduce Shane to mindless, fucked-out noises and full-body twitches.

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Tomorrow, he'll call Shane and apologise. He'll fix what he broke. He doesn't want Shane to be angry at him anymore. 

    He doesn’t remember swerving to avoid a merging truck. 

    He also doesn’t remember hitting the tree.

    Or: Ilya gets into a car accident. Shane is there to pick up the pieces.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    5,446
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    90
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    3,520
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    650
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    30 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    For a long time, they stand right there in Ilya’s hallway, holding each other. Ilya clings, a little afraid Shane might disappear if he lets go. Shane lets Ilya cling and holds him tenderly, heartbreakingly mindful of Ilya’s injuries.

    Ilya wants to beg him to stay. To take Ilya with him, when he leaves. He feels like a little kid, too weak to hold on, too quiet to make himself known.

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Did you see Rozanov get clocked by a fan outside?” JJ looked nothing short of delighted as he spread this news to the locker room after the game.

    Shane’s head snapped up.

    “What?” he couldn’t keep a note of panic out of his voice. Which was stupid, because he and Rozanov hadn’t spoken in months. Since Vegas.

    Not that Shane ever thought about Vegas.

    Or the texts that he hadn’t sent.

    Or anything like that.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    101
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    4,358
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    609
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    30 Dec 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ilya,” Shane whispers. “Ilya, baby, can you open your eyes?”

    He’s met with silence, and the frantic tremor of his heart turns into an earthquake. The ice beneath him seeps into his veins and freezes his blood. Panic claws at his chest, scaling his ribcage like a ladder and lodging in his throat. He can barely breathe around the terror.

    “Ilya, you need to open your eyes. You need to look at me.”

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,417
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Collections:
    5
    Comments:
    281
    Kudos:
    10,947
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    77,312

    30 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Shane doesn’t want to risk Ilya waking up without Shane being by his side - without Shane holding his hand. Back on the ice Ilya had said his name before he’d even opened his eyes and seen Shane there with him. He’d wanted him, needed him, and that’s not something Shane takes lightly. Not when Ilya never asks for a damn thing from anyone.

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya Rozanov has a "tiny car accident" (his words). Shane Hollander has a full-scale, system-shutdown panic attack about it. Meanwhile, a horrified Hayden is praying for someone to throw him in a lake and tell him that this is all just a big joke, or maybe for a meteor strike; he is really not picky. J.J., on the other hand, is trying to bleach the image of his sweet captain making out with Ilya fucking Rozanov from his brain.

    It's a very normal day for the Montreal Canadiens.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    323
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    30 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Did he pray? In that final, inevitable second when physics took over, Ilya, who carried his faith like a secret, would surely reach for it. He would inevitably though of his mother. Was he relief at the thought of seeing her again? Or did he think of Shane? Did he grieve for them the same way Shane was grieving right now?

    *

    Ilya’s eyes held his, steady and sure, not rising to the bait of the smirk. “Aren’t you a brave man, Shane Hollander?”

    Yes, Shane thought, the certainty settling deep in his bones. I must be. To love you this much and survive, it takes a courage I didn’t know I had.