meganwritess
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“Ilya Hollander,” he offered finally, casually even, as if he said it just to test how the words might sound out loud and not because they had forcibly fought their way out. He tried not to linger on the taste, sweet and hopeful.
Shane’s back stilled very suddenly. Fuck.
_____In a tangle of bedsheets, Ilya poses a hypothetical.
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Annabelle had been right that day in the car, albeit uninformed; Paul Baker was nice. He was also charming and friendly and outgoing and kind and a little pathetic, but above all else he was nice and it left him with a perpetual stomach ache. Paul Baker was hungry. Paul Baker was starving for something he had never known how to ask for.
For a second, he could have sworn Anton tasted like something.
_____Or, what happens after the power outage.
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Magnus is buttering a few bagels for him and the mystery man upstairs when a little blip of a memory zaps through his brain. “I cast ‘Zone of Truth!’” a familiar voice had said, slurring his words a little. “You still down?”
“Fuck yeah, you?”
“Hell yeah, homie, let’s do this.”
Oh, shit.
_____Barry is in love. Lup leaves a note. Lucretia gets wet. Taako delivers tea. Magnus proposes a promise. Davenport presses flowers. Merle wins a bet.
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The whole gang came over for a potluck last week.
It was one of the best nights he’s had in a while. Even so, Taako found himself unable to look Lucretia in the eyes. He couldn’t even thank her for the French onion soup.
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Taako goes to therapy. -
can i hug you? by meganwritess for journalofimprobablethings
Fandoms: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
12 Mar 2021
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They’d found the Light, so the destruction of this world is one thing Lup doesn’t have to worry about...
Unless...
Unless?
“Do we still have the shit from cycle eight?” She sits up and spins to look at Barry.
Barry’s brows furrow, doing the math in his head. Then he gets it. His eyes flit up to meet hers. “Yeah.... Lup, what’re you saying?”
“I’m saying it’d be a real fuckin’ shame if something were to happen to that lab.”
_____Taako and Lucretia get kidnapped. Davenport does some writing. Merle casts Hold Person. Barry gets horny. Lup extracts justice. Magnus gets hugged.
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“Come on,” Comeau says. “Are we all just supposed to pretend it's normal that you’re still playing house with Ilya Rozanov?”
“Gil—” J.J. says, but Shane doesn’t want him to finish that sentence, to pull Comeau gently off the ledge he’s steering himself toward. Shane wants to push him, kicking and screaming, to make them say it to his fucking face. That after all this time, they still hate him for the heinous crime of falling in love.
“We’ve been married for two years,” Shane says. “I’m not sure that qualifies as playing house. I mean, it’s longer than you were with your first wife, isn’t it?”
Or: Shane reunites with his former teammates at J.J.'s bachelor party. He's finally ready to say (and maybe punch) his piece.
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Bookmarked by meganwritess
09 Jun 2026
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Ilya is a young man in America. Here he is in the off hours.
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Bookmarked by meganwritess
17 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Ilya presses his fingertips deep into the skin across Shane’s shoulderblades. When he releases, he watches the pressure marks fade back to normal in seconds, as if Ilya had never been there at all.
oh this fandom is a NIGHTMARE… #myshanecheats strikes again. hot and horrible and so well written. truly crying perhaps i can muster the strength for a comment tmr.
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Shane had everything he'd ever wanted, plus a girlfriend. Ilya Rozanov was not his problem.
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Bookmarked by meganwritess
17 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
So he kissed the jut of her ankle and followed the soft, smooth skin up to her knee, which Shane had never clipped, and didn't have a little scar from pond hockey on rough ice in Russia.
real sick shit oh my god (translation: came and cried #myshanecheats)
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“Please don’t tell me the first person who ever touched your dick was Dr. Robby.”
“Um.” He coughs.
“Oh my god I’m gonna fucking die.”
Santos tries to solve Whitaker’s sexual hangups. Whitaker tries to save Robby’s soul. Neither initiative goes exactly to plan.
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Bookmarked by meganwritess
10 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
If he ever stops to think, he’ll ask himself what the hell he’s doing and he’ll bolt. Surely it is wrong, it is unacceptable, or it would be if they said it out loud. He doesn’t know the right terminology, there are lots of words he can’t say because he knows they’ll make him sound like a twelve year old. Especially when he’s saying them to his boss. Does anyone sound attractive saying “suck my dick”? Or referring in any way to balls? “Come” is fine, but “cum”, as a noun, is unthinkable. “Daddy”, “bad boy”, “stroke it”; all uniquely bad and lame and mortifying. He ends up having to speak in very oblique, very vague ways, which does have its own charm. Usually it devolves to grunts and pointing regardless. That's better. He doesn't have to say he wants anything. It’s pure, unmuddled. Instinct. Surely it can stay that way forever. Cain didn’t know it was wrong to kill his brother; no one ever told him. Did he even know that Abel wasn’t going to wake up? Was it really his fault, then?
jesus christ i don't even go here but WOW.
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The Ballad of Shane Hollander's Tits