uffish



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  1. 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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    25 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    They lapse back into a comfortable silence. Shane looks at Ilya as he is and thinks about Ilya as he was at seventeen, smoking in the back of a Saskatchewan parking lot. The image is almost unbearably tender for Shane, where his own seventeen year old thrill at seeing Ilya Rozanov meets all the things Shane knows about that lonely boy now.

    Shane thinks: Do you love number 81 more than you love this man?

    "Hey," Ilya says, brushing his knuckles over Shane's cheek. "Whatever I do, I will be there when you come home."

    Ilya decides to retire. Shane is very normal about it.

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    23 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    "Stop asking me if it's okay. If I want it. You're always, like—whatever. I'm not one of your fucking girls, okay? If I don't like it, I'll stop you. I can make you stop."

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    23 Jan 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Media: Here is the goodest most normal boy.
    Me: Oh so he’s a lil fucked up, got it. Here he is developing a bruise kink on top of everything else going on.

     

    Something’s different, just in general. Like wearing sunglasses, a filter of sorts over everything, but if Shane was in any way honest with himself, he’d know it was more like going without for the first time.

    He’s painfully aware of his body these days; how it looks, how it moves, how it responds to… stimuli. And it is responding, lately. His bruises, too: always just there, so used to them they’d barely registered anymore, but recently there’s been a sort of constant hum of them at the edge of his awareness. It’s a layer of input he really doesn’t need right now, busy as he is.

    But he’s been woken up. Restless. Needy.

    Late in bed, when all his chores are done, fingers travel up to his collarbone, where the newest acquisition is waiting for him.

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    21 Jan 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 95

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    Ilya had never denied himself anything. He liked to feel good, and usually wanting felt good.

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    20 Jan 2026