Belle2006
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Summary
In his efforts to become the best captain possible, Shane accidentally cultivates among his teammates a debilitating praise kink.
(Or, the unforeseen consequences of prolonged and repeated exposure to Shane Hollander's beautiful big brown bottom eyes, and its documented effects on a worrisomely increasing number of professional hockey players.)
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- English
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- 3/5
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Bookmarked by Belle2006
21 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Absolutely HILARIOUS, and so verbose. Pure Shane worship
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Did you hear about Laurette’s boy? Cliff, the oldest one. He got drafted to the Boston Raiders. Heard he’s doing well for himself.
Series
- Part 12 of Medric's Greatest Hits Vol. 1
Bookmarked by Belle2006
05 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
There's this feeling of displacement and un-realness that I really enjoyed reading about, although it was also sort of painful and bittersweet. I guess is just the result of leaving home and growing up and doing so in such a short time, not being fully sure of where home might be in the next moment or what home might even look like. Losing touch with his hometown and his old life and not having a replacement for that sense of community and grounding means Cliff might be suffering through some depression. I kind of relate to that feeling of time and place slipping through your fingers, so many people and seasons of life that seem so remote from what's become reality that they come to exist as these nebulous concepts orbiting in and out and around the Real but never fully concrete.
I definitely enjoy Cliff's point of view as an outside spectator to Ilya. I feel as though I tend to regard him as very selfish and at times unkind from Shane's POV. It constantly feels as though he's the one who can walk away with a lighter burden of their attachment to bear. I think it's simply that star power Ilya so easily wields; the charisma, the humor, the macho look, and ironically the generousness with which he offers anything of himself without qualms about the future heartbreak it might bring him. He travels light so to say.
It's also really interesting to see Cliff as a player who's on a different level of skill from Ilya and Shane because it's easy to forget that objectively they're truly on a caliber of their own. It's also weirdly reassuring to catch those glimpses of humbling comparison that Cliff draws between himself and Ilya, edging into an almost awed sense of jealousy.
I feel sometimes as if I can't contain all of the dirty greedy envy that's corroding me from the inside, but at the same time am so enamored, curious, and awed by people like Ilya. The easygoing charm, the raw talent and skill, the effortlessness that makes it seems as though they are untouchable. -
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Summary
Shane Hollander is a man who thrives on structure, routine, the solid ground of a ten-year plan. Ilya likes that about him, likes the embracing squeeze of having a life organized in tandem with Shane.
No one would call Ilya a man who thrives on structure. But it’s there, if not in his DNA then in the patterns of his brain. A call-and-response of: they do this, I do that.
When Ilya’s life is flayed open for the world to dissect, how will they push-and-pull their way back towards what was once a well-organized life?
“I thought we could go through the schedules and figure out what days we’ll be in the same cities this season, or when either of us have a couple of days off in a row. Maybe make a shared calendar, so we c—”
“A sex calendar? Your parents are arriving in thirty minutes, and you are proposing making a sex calendar?” Oh, this was delicious. He’d be able to eat out on this for years, if Shane was willing to give him that long.
“It’s not a sex calendar! It’s just … when we might be able to see each other,” he finished, already sounding defeated.
“And what are you planning on doing when we are seeing each other? Not fucking?”
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Bookmarked by Belle2006
12 Apr 2026
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He crowds Shane into the hood of the car, hands up under his shirt and jacket again. October is getting cold; nights are getting colder. The places where Ilya is touching him are the only parts of Shane’s body that are warm right now. Maybe that’s why he wraps his arms around Ilya’s neck and clings to him, though he doesn’t necessarily surprise himself with it. They don’t even kiss for a moment. Ilya busies himself breathing into the crook of Shane’s neck, trying to regain control. Shane opens his eyes and gazes over Ilya’s shoulder at the dark field and realizes that an utterly foreign feeling has risen up in him. It’s Ilya’s broad shoulders and beautiful hair between Shane and the world and he feels—small. Protected.
“Oh my God,” Shane whispers, completely ashamed of the feeling and hungry for it. It curls warm in his stomach. His toes arch inside his shoes. Something about being so close to this man, something about Ilya putting himself between Shane and—the world. Whatever lurks in the deep night. It’s a feeling like a ghost, something that Shane isn’t allowed to look directly at except for moments like these. Quiet and dark.Shane, Ilya, Vermont. Meeting in the middle.
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Bookmarked by Belle2006
15 Mar 2026
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Summary
Ilya wrings out his shirt and tries to swallow the humilation burning at the back of his throat. "It is very funny," he says, flatly. "I am enjoying these jokes. I love to pay damages at every hotel. Is good for your poor sad American economy."
"They do it to everyone," Price repeats, as if Ilya is just anybody and that makes it ok.
Or: Ilya's rookie season costs more than expected.
Bookmarked by Belle2006
12 Mar 2026