Sweet_Cakes



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    It happens in an instant.

    Over Ilya’s shoulder, Shane sees the doctor and Wiebe give each other a look, and in a sudden bout of impatient anxiety, Shane ends up saying the words that come to ruin everything.

    “Don’t touch me.”

    The effect is instantaneous. Ilya’s hands fly to his sides, and Shane gets a front row seat as Ilya’s heart breaks before his very eyes. Eyes dimming and lips trembling in slow, painful technicolor.

    It causes Shane’s heart to break, too, and he vows, immediately, never to see such a look cross his husband’s face again.

    OR Shane embarks on a mission to heal his husband’s heart, one PDA at a time.

    Language:
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    5/5
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    25 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “I turned the other cheek every fucking time. I still got tossed on my ass the second I went too far over the line, and threatened by the commissioner, and told to kill myself on just about every social media platform because my nightmare that I’d get outed came true. And you, after everything you did, got to come out to a supportive team and fans, get a slap on the wrist, and have your happy fucking ending.”

    Or:

    An exploration of Shane Hollander's struggle against racism and homophobia in hockey, and how others come to understand it

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    English
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    18,152
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    3/5
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    23 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane's breath catches on a sob, and he muffles the sound with his hand. Everything feels like too much. He’s naked, and he can feel entirely too much on his body, inside his body, and he hates how it's starting to feel gross. His head is pounding, and he can't even focus on placating his mind when his lungs are also screaming in his throat for breath.

    Ilya hears, and his hands reach out to hold Shane, tension lying in every part of his body. “Shane—”

    “Don't touch me,” Shane snaps, more desperation than yelling as he rips his arm out of Ilyas's grasp. His tears have nowhere to go now, and they finally spill over, hot and humiliating, down his cheeks.

    Ilya freezes in place, hand hovering mid-air. A myriad of emotions flicker across his face: confusion, hurt, fear. Ilya takes an unconscious step back like someone shoved him. His body curls in on itself, trying to make himself appear smaller.

    He looks... terrified. Like, Shane just called him a monster, and he believes it.

    OR: inspired by the fight in the long game when ilya had told shane he could have sex with other men because he did not believe in cheating.

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    2/2
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    04 May 2026

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    “Just-” Ilya starts, intending to tease, the offer of a massage more about getting Hollander back in a more relaxed headspace than anything else, but then the wire-tight tension in the muscles under his fingers registers, and he frowns, pressing testingly before making a noise of disapproval. “Fuck, Hollander, you are secretly doing crime or what?”

    “What?” Hollander asks, confused, starting to lift his head before Ilya pushes it back down absently, focused now on feeling out the knots Hollander seems to be completely made of. He’s felt tension in Hollander’s shoulders before, usually during coaxing little squeezes while coaching him through learning how to deep throat, but he’s always written it off as nerves from learning something new.

    Now he wonders if Hollander is just nerves, period.

    (the "ilya massages shane" fic inspired by hudson saying that playing shane made him sore because he was so tense all the time)

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    04 May 2026

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    “What the hell happened?”

    “I had a slight run-in with a cab.”

    “A slight run-in with a cab.” Harvey frowns, eyes darting from the torn knees of Mike’s pants to his rumpled tie to what Mike can only assume is a pretty bad scrape on his cheek, judging from the stinging and the blood he’s wiped away multiple times in the last fifteen minutes. “It doesn’t look very ‘slight.’”

    Language:
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    30 Apr 2026