loonyloopylvpin
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“-moya rybka, I am sorry, sweet girl-” Ilya is saying, on his knees in the middle of their living room and patting the rug near him with what looks like devastation on his face as Anya continues to ignore him, curled up on Shane’s lap instead. Fresh off of several stacked events to fit them into a weekend–because Shane’s mom is nothing if not efficient when it comes to the deals she makes–Ilya got home only a few minutes ago, still in the outfit he’d left his Buzzfeed puppy interview in, which Anya had clearly not appreciated, sniffing him suspiciously after her initial excited greeting and then retreating to Shane immediately when he patted his thigh in welcome.
Shane is trying not to be obviously enjoying Ilya’s turmoil as much as he is, shifting Anya to lay on her back like a baby in one arm and cooing at her.
“I know, huh? Papa left and played with who knows how many other dogs, and the whole time you were here missing him. I bet he wasn’t even thinking about you, huh?”
“Hollander!” Ilya says, sounding scandalized. “Do not tell her that! Is not true!”
(collection of standalone fics/ficlets prompted by my own tumblr posts) (will update as inspiration strikes)
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Bookmarked by loonyloopylvpin
06 Jul 2026
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He gnaws at the guilt of his own actions the way Anya does her chew toys for days after, Shane clearly picking up on something going on with him but also giving him space to work it over in his head until he’s ready to share.
Right up until they’re out at team dinner and the two other smokers at the table excuse themselves for a smoke outside and Shane looks to him expectantly-
-only to frown when Ilya stays where he is.
(how and why ilya finally gives up smoking)
Bookmarked by loonyloopylvpin
06 Jul 2026
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Shane should be here right now, should be in Ilya’s house. Ilya should be teasing him about being picky while going through delivery options for food on his phone. Shane should be discovering that Ilya has ginger ale in the fridge and the protein bars Shane mentioned liking in an interview in his pantry. He should be making out with Shane on the couch, sneaking a hand into his pants, teasing him about whether they can beat the deliveryman and arrive before he does. Shane was supposed to spend the night tonight, the Montreal team not set to leave until tomorrow afternoon because of potential bad weather in the morning. Shane should be fed and showered and ready to curl up in bed with Ilya tonight.
But Shane is in a hospital.And Ilya is here.
He pulls up Jane in his phone again. He presses call.
“Hey, you’ve reached Shane Hollander-”
Ilya closes his eyes and lets Shane’s voice roll over him.
(canon divergence in which shane getting injured happens during a game in boston) (...which means shane then gets to go home with ilya to recover)
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Bookmarked by loonyloopylvpin
06 Jul 2026
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Beneath the roiling irritation, Shane is pretty sure he’s going to feel stupid in about an hour about this argument.
Right now, though, he’s in the middle of it and annoyed enough to stay there.
“-any fucking sense,” he says, slapping the dishtowel in his hand down on the counter and only succeeding in winding himself up further when it hits a little puddle of dishwater that sprays droplets on him.
Unfortunately, the easiest outlet for this frustration is also the person who started this argument in the first fucking place: Ilya.
“It does not need to make sense,” Ilya says, arms crossed over his chest in a way that says he’s feeling just as ready to commit to the world’s most stupid fight about nothing as Shane is. “Is about feeling.”
“And you feel like you would love a worm?” Shane asks, mirroring Ilya’s posture in a way that’s meant to be mocking.
From the way Ilya’s jaw tightens, he noticed, and it sends a petty little thrill through Shane.
(ilya tries to be sweet and let shane know he would love him even if he was a worm) (somehow it ends up turning into a fight)
Bookmarked by loonyloopylvpin
06 Jul 2026
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“...oh,” his mom says. “Oh, honey, you were seeing someone? You never said anything.”
“It’s-it’s complicated.” He catches the present tense too fucking late to do anything about it, and he barely resists the urge to either groan or slip forward to start beating his head against the coffee table.
Fuck his fucking life.
“You’re still…seeing this person?” His mom asks, and the amount of control he can hear her exerting is almost painful. “Who is-”
“Yuna,” his dad cuts in, voice quiet, “maybe give him a second, yeah?”
Yeah, Shane agrees in his head. Give him a second.
Maybe give him a decade while they’re at it.
(when shane's old fake id falls out of his wallet around his parents, he has to explain that it was to book hotel rooms before he was 21)
(...and then he has to explain why he needed to book those hotel rooms in the first place)
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Bookmarked by loonyloopylvpin
06 Jul 2026