DeadEndsAndClutchedHands



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    It’s a dick move and right now Ilya is glad he has a reputation as a dick, so no one asks too many questions. You’re supposed to pick someone that fucked up a bit, someone the team is already kind of mad at. Picking a team’s captain, especially when he hasn’t done anything wrong—you don’t do that.

    Or: Ilya notices that Hollander is off his game, and decides that a visit to the winner's room just might fix that.

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    23 Apr 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “My fucking god, Hollander, you talk so much,” Rozanov says and Shane clenches his jaw. "I am not trying to set you up with Dom friend!”

    “What then? You came to rub it in or–”

    Rozanov throws his hands up in defeat and snaps, “Am trying to say; Hollander, I am Dom and I will Play with you, but you talk so fucking much I can not say this!”

    Shane freezes. There’s no laughter now. His stomach swoops and plummets. 

    “That’s not funny.”

    “Do I look like I am laughing, Hollander? Am serious.”

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    23 Apr 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya picks up on the third ring, breathing heavily into the phone. Shane hears a door slam shut through the device. “Do not yell at me.” 

    Shane stares at the half-empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “You suck.”

    “I suck? I scored hat-trick! In your stupid body! I have not eaten in six hours, Hollander. I have not pissed. I have not laid down. I want to go home.” 

    “Rozanov–” 

    “Your mother has called twenty times. Your manager has called thirty times. Your father text me picture of crossword puzzle and ask for help. Clue is about American President from the 1980s. I cannot help!”

    OR: the hollanov bodyswap fic. 

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    English
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    23 Apr 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    His outstretched glove hangs there, frozen, as the noise of the arena mutates into a ringing buzz. Then he’s moving, pushed away by Marlow, and then Boston’s goalie. There’s a flurry of movement, a trainer with a towel, more blood dripping onto the ice, and he just. Stands there. Staring.

    Ilya is helped off the ice. Shane doesn’t even tap his stick.

    Remember when Sidney Crosby caught a puck with his jaw? That doesn't happen to Shane. That happens to Ilya.

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    72,072
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    23 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Adventurous,” Ilya said, smiling sharply.
    “Shut up.”
    “This is unlike you.”
    “Shut up.”
    Ilya did, pulling open the sealed cardboard slots instead and upturning the box over his palm, not all that careful considering its contents were glass, letting the bottle fall into his hand.
    “Shit, Rozanov,” Shane said, exasperated. “I was going to return it.”
    “Oh, no, you will go broke now?" Ilya popped the cap off the perfume and sprayed it at Shane.

    Shane Hollander finds a hobby.

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    English
    Words:
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    23 Apr 2026