NotYourGrave



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    It's the night after Shane's first game with the Centaurs. The game went amazing, and his new team has been nothing but wonderful to him.

    And he should be focusing on that, really. Enjoying it.

    But he has something else on his mind.

    Or:

    Shane is sad when he takes stock of his friendships. Ilya is there for him.

    Here you'll find Shane angst, or shangst, as I like to call it.

    Series
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    10 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 17

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    All Shane can remember is the crack he felt in his knuckles connecting with Ilya Rozanov’s face, crunching in his nose and upper lip. Maybe blood came flying out, he didn’t know. Honestly what happened next he couldn’t feel anymore, and he didn’t care.

    ~

    Or alternate story wherein Shane & Ilya do not hookup during rookie season, are actual rivals for a few years until Shane can’t take it anymore.

    Language:
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    09 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 59

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    Hollander’s nails are clean and trimmed, his knuckles a little reddened. From the cold, not a fight, of course. Shane Hollander would not be one of those types of guys.

    Ilya wonders what it would take to make him one.

    or: Ilya needs to be touched. Provoking other players into hitting him has always been the easiest way, has always worked. Until Shane Hollander.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
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    Comments:
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    07 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    He gnaws at the guilt of his own actions the way Anya does her chew toys for days after, Shane clearly picking up on something going on with him but also giving him space to work it over in his head until he’s ready to share.

    Right up until they’re out at team dinner and the two other smokers at the table excuse themselves for a smoke outside and Shane looks to him expectantly-

    -only to frown when Ilya stays where he is.

    (how and why ilya finally gives up smoking)

    Language:
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    06 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “You are…” Ilya licked his bloodied teeth and tried to remember the word. “Squeamish?”

    “No,” Hollander said. His eyes were still so wide, tracing over Ilya’s bruised face like searchlights. “Fuck. Just—”

    He stepped back, stumbling a little on socked feet, and jerked his head at the doorway. Get in.

    Language:
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    05 Jun 2026