graveyardxqueen



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    Last night, Ilya dreamed Shane served him divorce papers. They were making dinner when suddenly Shane pulled them out of the microwave and thrust them into Ilya’s hand. This isn’t working, he said. I’m divorcing you. No negotiations.

    And look: of course Ilya understands that it was just a dream. The official divorce petition was a stack of sticky notes. Shane had faintly green skin and, Ilya is pretty sure, a third eye next to his left nipple. It obviously wasn’t real.

    But.

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    23 Jan 2026

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    “Hollander? You are still here?” Rozanov called, breaking the TV static silence filling Shane’s head. He blinked. 

    “Uh. Yeah, just leaving,” he answered, surprised by how steady his voice sounded. Good, that was good. He knew he couldn’t show Rozanov any weakness if he wanted to keep coming back.

    But did he want to come back if it made him feel like this?

    “Door is too heavy? Or I fuck you too good, you cannot move legs,” came Rozanov’s taunting response. Shane could practically see the tilted smirk on his face, cigarette smoke wafting around his freshly-showered curls. 

    “Fuck off, Rozanov,” Shane muttered.
    _____________________

    Or, I wrote something to add to the pile of subdrop!Shane in Vegas fics because legally by law I had to

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    23 Jan 2026

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    Shane’s whining beneath him, head thrown back, exposing the long column of his neck and rutting up against Ilya. Ilya licks up his throat, nibbling at Shane’s jaw, before his lips brush the shell of Shane’s ear.

    “Tell me what you want.”

    The reply is instant.

    “You.”

    ----

    or: after his drunken confession, shane keeps avoiding ilya. at a student party ilya finally gets the chance to speak to him.
    part 2 to Close to Me

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    21 Jan 2026

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    During the second week of rookie training camp, Will had put his hand on the back of Mack’s neck. It was a featherlight touch, platonic under the right gaze.

    Easy, Celly,” Will had muttered under his breath.

    The roar of everyone on the ice faded to a dull stillness.

    Something snapped into place then, something Mack didn’t have a name for.

    So, naturally, Mack followed Will around like a dog on a leash.

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    19 Jan 2026

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    “No,” he says, smiling gently, like he doesn't know how irritating he's being. “Is my room first, da? You should speak with front desk.”

    Hollander stares at him.

    And then he starts to laugh.

    You ask the front desk,” he shoots back, in between his odd wheezes. Ilya's heart starts to pound in double time, because this is not—this cannot be Shane Hollander playing bed chicken with him. Their competitiveness is fierce, to be certain, but surely, Hollander would be the bigger person, no? “This is my fucking room, Rozanov. Wild horses couldn't drag me away.”

    OR: Ilya's apartment is under construction. Shane's in town for a game. It'd be a shame if they somehow had the same hotel room.

    [or, or: we need some more goddamn 'there was only one bed' out here.]

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    12 Jan 2026