moonlunee



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Were you thinking of also bringing clothes?” Shane asked, glancing into Ilya’s suitcase.

    “Do you think we will need them?”

    “I’m just saying you might want the option of going outside,” Shane said, dropping a kiss on Ilya’s shoulder and wandering into the closet.

    Ilya was obviously going to pack clothing, he just had priorities. Like making sure their whole sex toy collection would fit into his suitcase, not to mention two of the biggest bottles of lube he’d been able to find.

    “Take the batteries out of anything that vibrates,” Shane called. Ilya rolled his eyes. What was he, an amateur? “Do you think I should bring two pairs of walking shoes or is one enough?”

    “How many walking tours are we going on?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “How do you not know? What have you been doing for the past month?”

    “Research! But I didn’t book anything yet in case we decide we want to just sit by the pool for ten days instead.”

     

    Or: Shane and Ilya Go Honeymooning. Set after The Long Game.

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    23 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 66

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    “I’m not cut out for this shit,” Lance admits, hardly able to face Keith as he says it. He passes the bottle back.

    Keith stares at the glass, at where Lance’s lips just were, and is unable to bring it to his own. It feels too intimate. He frowns, sorting through things in his mind. “…For parties?”

    Lance looks at him like he’s being purposefully dense. “For Voltron.” He rolls a hand out toward the sky. “For— for being out here in space.”

    Or, sometimes a few drinks go a long way.

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    18 Jun 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 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Svetlana could give Ilya everything Shane could not.

    She shared his language, his culture, and knew what it was like living in Russia–she didn’t have to try and learn Russian in secret so if Ilya wanted to just talk freely with her he could. She’d known Ilya his whole life, known his father and brother and, most importantly, his mother–the most precious person to Ilya. She could date Ilya, in public, and it wouldn’t cause a scandal–Ilya wouldn’t have to sacrifice his country to be with her or have to secure citizenship somewhere safe just so that if people found out he wouldn’t get arrested. She could stay with Ilya during the hockey season and share his space–she could get groceries with him and argue with him in the produce aisle about what to make for dinner that week. She could love Ilya, freely, and Shane could not.

    In the end it was not about Ilya or even Svetlana at all really. It was about what Shane could not be, what he could not give, to the person he loved most.

    OR: Shane and Svetlana meet for the first time and Shane battles with his insecurities.

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    02 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane's eyes squeeze closed again. “We had reason to put rules in place. Protocol. If ever—if it got to a place where, if he was ever feeling like he might—"

    Hayden’s body understands before his mind catches up. His blood runs cold for a second, stuck on the scrunch of Shane’s face, the clench of his fist, how desperate he’d been to see Rozanov—Ilya—just now. To make sure that he was okay. Here, in person.

    Not hurt. Alive.

    “Oh,” Hayden hears himself say distantly. “Oh, fuck, Shane.”

    --

    or, Ilya needs a place to go, and Hayden's happens to be the closest. It turns out to be a good thing.

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    27 May 2026