julianbashir
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“Did you… Did you get a whole roll of wrapping paper for it?”
“Yes. And ribbon.”
“You’re cute.”
“Shut up.”
// shane’s birthday is next week. ilya has gifts for him.
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Bookmarked by julianbashir
13 Jun 2026
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And maybe it’s stupid that Ilya thinks he looks beautiful like this, in black and yellow with Boston BEARS on his chest and ROZANOV 81 on his back, but Ilya can’t help it.
He’s a deeply flawed man.
He’s possessive, and he’s controlling, and he likes the idea of Hollander wearing his name and his number. He likes the idea of Hollander being his.
He swears under his breath as Hollander is fixing his hair like it matters, like Ilya isn’t going to fuck it back up the first chance he gets.
“This is a gift for yourself,” Hollander says. “Isn’t it?”
Ilya shrugs, looking Hollander up and down.
“It is… What is word?” He gestured vaguely. “Accident that works?”
“A coincidence?”
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“Go?” Rozanov repeats, and Shane thinks he manages to nod, thinks he manages to spin some kind of excuse that he knows Rozanov doesn’t really buy, but he needs to go. He needs to get out of here. He needs to find somewhere quiet and calm where he can ride out this panic and painful tightness until he can catch his breath again. He needs-
He needs to go.
“I’m sorry,” he says, turning heel and resisting the urge to just book it right for the front door only because he’d rather not have to explain to Hayden why he returned from a hookup with Boston Lily in men’s clothes that he certainly didn’t leave in.
It’s not until he makes it halfway up the stairs to Rozanov’s bedroom that it occurs to him in a cold rush that it isn’t just anxiety that makes it this hard to breathe.
“No,” he tells himself firmly, white knuckling the bannister and trying to take a deep breath just to prove that he can.
It wheezes.
(how the tuna meltdown is averted through the power of food allergies and anaphylaxis)
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Bookmarked by julianbashir
12 Jun 2026
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“Up,” he says, tapping at Hollander’s ankle to get him to lift his foot up.
“I can tie my own shoes, Rozanov,” Hollander says, and Ilya rolls his eyes both at the insistence and the regression to last names.
“Yes, I can see this by the way you are shaking like very nervous tiny dog.” He smirks, knowing exactly how to get Hollander to obey him. “Hmm, actually, yes, I can see resemblance. Maybe in a past life you are-”
Predictably, it gets him Hollander’s foot in the form of a kick.
He catches it by the heel on its swing back.
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Shane Hollander is a man who thrives on structure, routine, the solid ground of a ten-year plan. Ilya likes that about him, likes the embracing squeeze of having a life organized in tandem with Shane.
No one would call Ilya a man who thrives on structure. But it’s there, if not in his DNA then in the patterns of his brain. A call-and-response of: they do this, I do that.
When Ilya’s life is flayed open for the world to dissect, how will they push-and-pull their way back towards what was once a well-organized life?
“I thought we could go through the schedules and figure out what days we’ll be in the same cities this season, or when either of us have a couple of days off in a row. Maybe make a shared calendar, so we c—”
“A sex calendar? Your parents are arriving in thirty minutes, and you are proposing making a sex calendar?” Oh, this was delicious. He’d be able to eat out on this for years, if Shane was willing to give him that long.
“It’s not a sex calendar! It’s just … when we might be able to see each other,” he finished, already sounding defeated.
“And what are you planning on doing when we are seeing each other? Not fucking?”
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Bookmarked by julianbashir
11 Jun 2026
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It was this that he needed from Maxim perhaps even more than Russian fluency. He needed a person who did not need to be told what it was to grow up in a land in a time without hope. Or, more accurately, a land that had a brief, blinding moment of hope that immediately shattered. His people, his country, always expected the worst as a way to shield themselves from the consequences of their actions, a way to permit the hand of a judgemental God without needing to concede His existence. But the decade that Ilya was born into was worse than anyone was prepared for. Things could always be worse, he’d learned. Not explicitly taught, not assigned as homework like the alphabet or his multiplication tables. It was woven into every interaction of his entire life: do not trust this momentary happiness, or even this momentary sadness. Things can always get worse.
It didn’t matter how long Shane studied his language, this was a vocabulary that he would never grasp, with his Canadian affability and his North American optimism.
After that, unflappable Maxim had accepted, without question, Ilya’s blunt ultimatum that he’d delivered without elaboration that he would never, ever, take pills for his brain.
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It does mean missing out on things like barbeques and team dinners sometimes, but it’s not as if he would have been able to participate anyway. At this point in his life, risking someone not taking his allergies seriously would mean potentially missing games, which makes it unacceptable. Jackie always makes sure he has a dish or two that’s safe when he’s over at their house, but if he was going to be the one guy sitting and drinking ginger ale instead of taking part in sharing nachos or Korean barbeque or burgers or any other delicious thing he goes in knowing he can’t have anyway, there’s no point in making a fuss about it. He eats at home, has a drink with everyone else, and he calls it a day. Easy. Safe. Foolproof.
But also the reason it doesn’t occur to him that he hasn’t actually told Ilya about any of his allergies until it becomes immediately relevant five days into being at his cottage together.
(how ilya learns about shane's food allergies) (and how shane learns what it's like to have someone who always saves him a seat at the table) (and who also makes sure there's food he can eat on the table to start with)
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Bookmarked by julianbashir
10 Jun 2026
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“Done your research, huh?” Shane’s dad asks, and Ilya shrugs, looking a little shy in a way that’s both out of character and wildly endearing. The downside to eavesdropping, as it turns out: not being able to kiss his boyfriend when he’s looking incredibly kiss-able.
“Is important to know, yes? Things that are safe for him or not?”
“You really don’t have to worry about it too much, Ilya,” Shane’s dad says, though he looks more than a little pleased at Ilya’s worrying in a way that makes Shane want to roll his eyes. He’s a grown man. He can handle his own allergy restrictions. “Shane’s grown up knowing what’s safe or not.”
“Yes,” Ilya agrees, moving behind Shane’s dad to dump his cucumber slices into the bowl before returning to his place. “But he is important to me, so these things are important to me, too.”
Shane’s dad opens his mouth to say something before he pauses, instead resting a hand on Ilya’s shoulder and squeezing gently. Ilya looks surprised for a moment, twitching slightly at the contact before he relaxes under it, looking almost regretful when Shane’s dad lets go.
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Now Our Lives Are Changing Fast by the7thwriterinthedark
Fandoms: Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
25 May 2026
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David Hollander doesn't walk in on them at the cottage. Instead Ilya gets a phone call that his brother has died and his niece is an orphan in need of his care. Ilya and Shane have to make a new plan to make space in their lives for a toddler.
Shane’s shoulders are shaking like he wants to be pacing or screaming or both but he’s holding himself in place on willpower alone, “You can’t risk being deported, not with a kid, not for any reason. And maybe it’ll be good for you, I mean you’ll need help, right? And she’ll help you? And if they ever suspected, I mean a wife, that’s good, right? Everyone thinks you’re straight anyways –”
“Stop.” Ilya doesn’t mean to sound so loud, so angry, but he’s been through too much in the last twenty minutes to modulate, especially in English, “We talked about this. We had a plan. I would not marry Svetlana.” Because I want to marry you, says the little secret voice inside of him that’s only recently gotten permission to be loud in his head.
Shane huffs, adorably annoyed, “Ilya, marry Svetlana. For your niece. You might not be in love with her, but you do love her, don’t you?”
“I –” Ilya swallows thickly, “I do, but –”- Language:
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Bookmarked by julianbashir
09 Jun 2026
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Boston Tea @RaidersNews
To my Montreal haters: “Go to hell” is basic. “I hope your team captain falls in love and moves to Ottawa to be with his lover” is smart, it’s possible, it’s terrifying. It happened to my good friend Ilya Rozanov and now it’s happening to Shane Hollander