1001 – 1020 of 1,193 Works in David Hollander
- David Hollander ×
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A late-night moment after EP 6. Shane is drunk and happy, and Ilya is madly in love.
- Language:
- English
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- 1,067
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76739856
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While they are at the cottage, Ilya gets his hands on Shane's phone a few times. Ilya enjoys it a lot, to Shane's dismay, that he gets to refer to himself as Shane's lover via text messages.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,017
- Chapters:
- 24/24
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76544096
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Ilya tries to breathe. Shane is the one who panics. In fact, Ilya has been so calm over the past hour. So, so calm. Soooooooo so so so amazingly calm that maybe Shane will reward him with a very nice blowjob later. Ilya has been calm because Shane needs a rock to lean on, but Shane is gone and now Ilya is panicking. This is his only chance to rectify the first, shirtless impression he made on Shane’s father. “Do you still read New Yorker?” OR: Ilya, on the confluence of Shane with David, Yuna, and Svetlana.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,563
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76703756
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I'm Not Okay (But It's All Gonna Be Alright) by lucianowriter
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
The 5 Times Shane Hollander has a Diabetes mental health spiral and his loved ones are there to bring him out of it +1 time Shane Hollander hides his spiral and ends up in the hospital.
- Part 3 of The Highs and Lows of Shane Hollander
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- English
- Words:
- 6,810
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76618461
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And History will call them... by WeirdV
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
They talked about it, long and often and then - it’s decided and Shane feels oddly at peace. He feels peaceful as he laces up his skates and he feels peaceful standing across Ilya on the ice, his smile softer than usual. “You still want to do it after the game?” “Yes” He wins the face off. They talked about it, long and often and then - it’s decided and Shane feels oddly at peace. He feels peaceful as he laces up his skates and he feels peaceful standing across Ilya on the ice, his smile softer than usual. “You still want to do it after the game?” “Yes” He wins the face off. The press conference after is the moment. They made Shane and Ilya sit next to each other, and although he had expected it, he’s still relieved. “Hollander - this was your 100th game playing against your rival, Rozanov - how are you feeling about this?” a reporter asks, and Shane smiles. “Did I ever tell you guys about the first time I met Ilya?” he asks, purposefully using his first name, “I was 17. We were standing outside a gym and I went up to introduce myself.” “You told me I couldn’t smoke there” Ilya interjects, and the crowd of reporters laughs. “I remember being impressed by him” Shane smiles, “And looking forward to the next meeting.” “What do you remember about that first meeting, Rozanov?” another reporter asks. “His freckles” he says truthfully, and Shane blushes - the crowd falls silent, a few confusing whispers going through the room. “A few weeks ago, Ilya’s plane had to make an emergency landing” Shane says, “And ever since I’ve thought about that first meeting a lot - and all the times we’ve met after.” “Did Hollander reach out after the emergency landing?” a woman in the front row asks, and Ilya places his hand on Shane’s thigh, not that they can see. “Of course he did” Ilya sighs, “I gave him quite a scare.” “The second time I met Ilya” Shane says, “Now that’s a better story.” “What happened the second time you met?” a reporter shouts from the back, it’s clear that this press conference is not going how anyone expected - they probably should’ve prepared better. “I asked what his hotel room number was” Ilya says, and Shane can’t help but laugh. “So you’ve been friends since the beginning?” someone asks, and Shane laughs even harder. He doesn’t answer the questions. “So since that moment - all those years ago - after every game we would meet up” Shane says, “To be together - and then I got scared for a moment” “That’s when he dated Rose Landry” Ilya explains, enjoying the confused looks of the reporters and then spotting Shane’s parents in the back of the room. He smiles, waving at them - half the room turns around to watch Shane Hollander’s parents wave back at Ilya Rozanov. “Luckily he got his head out of his ass” Ilya says, Shane gives him a smile. “You’re such an asshole” he shakes his head, there’s a fondness in his words. “I did not” Ilya says, “But then something amazing happened. Scott Hunter kissed his boyfriend on live TV and suddenly it all didn’t seem so scary anymore.” “Are you trying to tell us you’re gay?” Someone on the left asks. “I am bisexual” Ilya says, he doesn’t speak for Shane - Shane has been out for a while, and he’s never denied any of the rumors. Usually going for a My personal life is not the topic of conversation. Ilya looks at Shane, and he nods - encouraging him to say the one thing they did agree on. “A few months ago, I got home” Ilya says, “After winning a bunch of games, and my entire living room was covered in electric candlelights - and then the love of my life sat down on one knee and asked me to marry him.” “And he said yes” Shane smiles. “I guess the point here is” Ilya says, “Is that Hollander and Rozanov might be rivals on the ice, but off the ice they’ve been so much more.” “And this summer” Shane takes a deep breath, “I will marry Ilya Rozanov and we will return after the summer and continue playing the best hockey we can.” “I know people will probably have a lot to say about it, and have a lot of opinions” Ilya says, “But honestly they can fuck off. They don’t know shit and we don’t really need their opinion on us. Our personal life has never affected our game - we just decided that we no longer want to hide it.” “Are you telling us that you two - ice hockey rivals - are actually lovers” “I hate that word” Shane says, and Ilya laughs, “But yes, I guess we are.” “Our agent will be available for questions or interview requests, but we will probably decline most” Ilya says, “We both have two weeks off and we are planning to just spend it together, because after another year of videocalls and finding time to spent together when our schedules line up, well - I missed my fiance”
- Language:
- English
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- 1,035
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76674201
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Breaking the Cycle by TheOceanIsMyInkwell
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
When Shane was freshly sixteen, Yuna came home to find him freaking out by himself at the kitchen island. He was perched on one of the bar stools with his entire torso slumped across the counter and his arms extended in front of him, hands balled into fists on the granite. His head was buried between his shoulders and he didn’t sound like he was breathing. Yuna didn’t say anything for a solid thirty seconds. Alarms blaring in her head, she silently tossed her purse to the side and beelined for her son with her hands out to comfort him. --- Or: Five times Yuna suspected Shane was gay, and the one time she finally found the right words to say.
- Part 27 of Author's Favorites
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,599
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76667786
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Mother Dearest, Is Your Heart Still Beating? by ItsMayBiTheWay
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
“We had a visitor waiting when we got back to the house tonight.” Yuna finally spoke. “It was, of course, alarming to find a stranger in our driveway, a car we didn’t recognize, a person we didn’t recognize.” “Okay.” Ilya intently listened, nodding at everything. “She explained that she had found me through the foundation, and wanted to reach out to me before she did anything else.” Her hands reassuringly squeezed around Ilya’s ones, eyes never leaving his even for a second. With a deep breath in, she closed her eyes. “She told us her name is Irina. Irina Sergeevna Rozanova.” OR Irina Rozanova survives her suicide attempt but goes into hiding. Only after Grigori dies, she feels safe enough to find her son. OR Irina lives
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- English
- Words:
- 3,683
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76631301
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Show me how I can Get this calloused hand In that velvet glove - Learning how to love - Rumer --- Love comes with condition, or so Ilya Rozanov thought. Until he met the Hollanders.
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- English
- Words:
- 1,329
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76638976
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Ilya gets used to living in Ottawa. Yuna and David help.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,684
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76629576
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Ilya can't believe he's calling Shane's mother before Shane, but Shane is two hours away and completely unable to help.
- Part 2 of HR/Game Changers Sickfic
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- English
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- 1,047
- Chapters:
- 2/2
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76515081
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hiraeth (hee-ryth): a profound, nostalgic longing or homesickness for a home, place, or time that may never have existed or is lost forever “Do– Do you miss it?” Shane asked him carefully, tilting his head up so he could look Ilya in the eye. “Russia.” He wanted to brush the question off. To assure his husband that he didn’t miss the country in the slightest – because knowing Shane, if Ilya confessed that he did, he’d spiral into a guilt trip faster than Ilya could blink. Shane would probably believe him too. But he didn’t want to lie to his husband, or hide his feelings from him. They’d done that for so long, and Ilya was tired of it. “Mm, I don’t miss Russia,” he said slowly, searching his brain for the exact words he wanted to say. It was hard enough communicating his feelings as it was, but the fact that he had to do so in English made it even harder. Finding the words he wanted to say always seemed so exhausting. “But… I miss how it was when I was little. With my mother.” Home to Shane Hollander is a very different concept than it is for Ilya. To Shane Hollander, home was a cozy, inviting house just outside of Ottawa, a place where he’d been raised with nothing but love and care by two people who loved him more than anything in the world. To him, home was the place where nothing in the world could go wrong, where he was safe and protected. To Ilya, home was a far more difficult concept to grasp. The only true home he’d ever known, the only real love and care he’d had growing up, had died with his mother. It vanished with her, lost forever, never to be recovered. The cold, looming manor he’d grown up in was not the sort of place one would describe as a home. It had silence, where the Hollander house always had laughter. Cold, unyielding marble floors instead of soft rugs, ones that protected little knees learning how to walk and made the perfect place to sprawl on for a family movie night, rather than the marble that only ever left Ilya’s knees bleeding when he fell. It was the type of place where arguments were ended by a harsh, forceful hit instead of a hug. For years, whenever Ilya talked about home, he simply meant Russia. Moscow was where he’d grown up. It was more home than Boston was. The fierce, cold winters, the strolls along the Moskva, the familiar flow of Russian out of everyone’s mouths, that was what made it home. Familiarity. There was nothing wrong with Boston. Not really. It had just never felt like home. At first, Ilya had blamed it on the language barrier. His English had been good enough when he arrived, or so he thought, but soon he’d realized that trying to carry conversations all day, every day, in his second language was downright exhausting. And no matter how much he talked, no matter how many words came out of his mouth, he never felt like he was saying exactly what he wanted to. The message always ended up blurring along the way. But that feeling of not being at home didn’t ease once his English improved. After that, he blamed the food. He’d replaced the borscht and pelmeni he’d eaten his entire life with burgers and pasta - not exactly the most American food in the world but Boston’s North End meant Italian food was practically unavoidable in the city. He’d started cooking on his own more, trying to recreate the recipes his mother had made during his childhood. They were never quite the same as he remembered though, always leaving an odd taste in his mouth afterward. Eventually, he’d resigned himself to simply never feeling at home outside of Russia. After all, it was where he was born and where he’d been raised. Surely, every immigrant felt like this. Out of place, adrift, longing for a way back home. It wasn’t until he and Hollander had finally started become something more that Ilya finally realized just how fucked his definition of home was. How wrong it was that to him, home was a city, rather than a house filled with a family. “I wouldn’t be able to go home again,” he explained, knowing exactly how poorly things would turn for him if the people of Russia found out he was in love with a man. “Ever. Do you get that?” From the immediate look of confusion on Shane’s face, he could tell he didn’t. Shane’s fears about coming out revolved around hockey. The impact it would have on his dreams, on his goals, on winning another Cup. For Ilya, his fears were far more terrifying. “Because of your family?” he asked, and Ilya sighed in frustration. He wasn’t really annoyed with Shane. How could he be? It’d be like being mad at a cute, little puppy that didn’t know what it’d done wrong. Especially when the man had turned those stupidly soft, brown eyes on him, looking at Ilya like he was about to break apart at any moment. It was simply the reality of their situation. Ilya’s only home, or the only one he had left, was a place defined by mere borders on a map, and nothing more. Hollander’s was his family. When Ilya had said home, Shane hadn’t immediately thought about Russia. No, he was assuming Ilya couldn’t go home because his family wouldn’t approve. As though the problem was that Ilya would be kicked out onto the streets. And while that was partially the problem, it certainly wasn’t what Ilya had meant. His father’s house hadn’t been home in a long time. To Hollander, that was the worst possible scenario about coming out. Losing his family, even if that was a highly unlikely scenario. But that was how Canada was. For Ilya, the worst case scenario in Russia – and a highly likely one at that – was death. “Because Russia!” Ilya explained loudly, his temper boiling over. But his anger wasn’t at Shane. No, it was at the unfairness of the situation he’d found himself in. “I would not be able to go back to Russia!” Shane went quiet for a moment before hesitantly asking his next question, as though he didn’t want to know the answer. “What would happen to you?” The mere thought of being outed while in Russia was enough to nearly make him sick. He couldn’t say for certain what would happen. Had he been asked years ago, he would’ve said his father would kill him. Now, the man was so far gone he didn’t even remember who Ilya was. Perhaps Alexei would be the one to do it. Ilya wasn’t sure he’d have the guts to do it himself though. His brother had always been a coward. No, he’d probably turn Ilya over to whatever angry mob appeared first, and then that’d be it for him. Death, either by a hanging, or being dragged through the streets, or some other awful way to go out. “I don’t want to find out,” he confessed, swallowing heavily against the nausea waging a war in his stomach. The thought of losing Russia shouldn’t have terrified him so much.
- Part 4 of heated rivalry fics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,917
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76620251
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so give me your eyes (i need sunshine) by GatheringBlue
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
Shane had known for a while now that he was in love with Ilya Rozanov. But it was seeing the sweet, gentle, caring side of him that leaked out more and more after they finally admitted their feelings for one another that clinched the deal. “We’re good here,” Ilya promised him, voice softer than Shane is used to hearing it as he gently ran a lar ge hand gently over his shoulders. “Your family is here. Your boyfriend is here. You’re good here, okay?” “My boyfriend?” Shane asked, slightly surprised at the other man’s use of the word. And it was when he looked up, staring into Ilya’s soft blue eyes as he casually confirmed his words, as though there was no doubt in Ilya’s mind that they were anything but, that Shane knew. He could love this man for the rest of his life. He could love him for all of their days, and it wouldn’t even be hard. Loving Ilya was easier than breathing. It was natural, instinctual, and impossible to live without. ________________________________________________________ During their visit to Shane's parents' house, he reflects on just how much he loves Ilya Rozanov It wasn’t until Shane saw Ilya at his parents’ house, a setting completely unlike any other one they’d ever been in together (for starters, there were actually other people around that knew their secret), that he began to realize all the things he hadn’t noticed about the other man before. The first thing he noticed was just how… polite Ilya was with his parents. Shane hadn’t ever realized that was something Ilya knew how to be. Charming, yes. An asshole, yes. But polite? Sure, he could be sweet and affectionate, a side of him that Shane was thankfully seeing more and more of, but even a sweet Ilya Rozanov was still a bit of an ass. Except in his parents’ home, Ilya was polite. Polite and… nervous? If there was one thing that Ilya Rozanov had always been defined by, it was confidence. He exuded it at every moment. Even before a championship game, you would never see anything but complete confidence in him. Shane had seen him uncomfortable before – in press interviews, when he couldn’t quite piece together what a reporter was asking him, during the Olympics because, well, Russia was Russia – but he’d never seen him nervous. At least not until Shane brought him home to meet his parents and watched as the cool, confident Ilya Rozanov turned into a shy, timid version of himself. He’d brushed it off, for the most part, too busy having a panic attack to really think much about it. It wasn’t like he could blame the man, after all. Shane was far more of a wreck than he was. Anyone in this situation would be nervous, he thought. Shane had known for a while now that he was in love with Ilya Rozanov. But it was seeing the sweet, gentle, caring side of him that leaked out more and more after they finally admitted their feelings for one another that clinched the deal. It was the way that, when Shane was struggling to get air into his lungs, too busy spiraling about what a complete and utter shit show his life was, Ilya was the first to comfort him, not his parents. “We’re good here,” Ilya promised him, voice softer than Shane is used to hearing it as he gently ran a lar ge hand gently over his shoulders. “Your family is here. Your boyfriend is here. You’re good here, okay?” “My boyfriend?” Shane asked, slightly surprised at the other man’s use of the word. And it was when he looked up, staring into Ilya’s soft blue eyes (the eyes that were his favorite color in the world, the ones he could stare at forever and never get tired of, eyes that saw every inch of Shane for who he was) as he casually confirmed his words, as though there was no doubt in Ilya’s mind that they were anything but, that Shane knew. He could love this man for the rest of his life. He could love him for all of their days, and it wouldn’t even be hard. Loving Ilya was easier than breathing. It was natural, instinctual, and impossible to live without. By the time they waved goodbye to his parents and pulled out of the driveway, Shane had never been more grateful for Ilya than in that moment. There was no way, he knew, that he would’ve made it through the afternoon if Ilya hadn’t come with him. He’d been perfect. Supportive, kind, gentle. All the things Shane had desperately needed that day. While lying in bed later that night, unable to sleep due to the last vestiges of anxiety clinging to his brain, he replayed the afternoon in his mind. It was then that he realized that even the things Ilya had done that, albeit in the moment had annoyed Shane, were really just more parts of Ilya that he found so endearing. His use of the word lover hadn’t been some sort of snarky remark. It’d been the language barrier, the fact that there were so many words that Ilya knew the definitions of but not the true context of them. The way he’d been the only one eating the meal Shane’s dad had made for them while the rest of them were talking hadn’t been rude or a lack of awareness of the situation. It’d been an attempt to be respectful to David, to show that at least one person was grateful he’d gone through the trouble of making them a meal. And, the more Shane thought about it, probably because it was the first home-cooked meal Ilya had been given in a long time. Maybe since his mother died. He rolled over in bed, watching Ilya sleep, the man looking more relaxed than he ever did awake. His curls, which had been sprung free of any gel the entire time Ilya had been at the cottage – much to Shane’s utter delight – were falling into his face and Shane reached forward, gently brushing them back. Ilya snuffled a bit in his sleep, adorably, in Shane’s opinion, although he could hear Ilya’s protests already. Russians are not adorable, Hollander. We have never been adorable. This is not something we are. And even though most of the world would probably say they were a horrible match for one another, even though the entire deck was stacked against them, even though they might not be able to publicly be together for another decade… Shane couldn’t help it. He loved him. He loved Ilya Rozanov with every fiber of his being. The same things he used to hate about him, the things that used to drive Shane crazy, were now the parts about him that Shane loved, the parts he couldn’t live without. Ilya was the first person Shane had ever loved, and he desperately wanted him to be the last. His beginning and his end. And while the logistics of their relationship wasn’t easy, being with Ilya, loving Ilya, well… That was the easiest thing in the world.
- Part 3 of heated rivalry fics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,079
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76630851
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the blade of father and son by rubyjean_jacket
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
David loves hockey, he does, he just doesn’t love it the way Yuna and Shane do, in that all- consuming, world-defining way of theirs that binds the two of them together tighter than just blood. Sometimes, David feels like he’s missing out. Mostly, though, he’s glad they have something to share, something that’s uniquely theirs. David loves hockey, he does, he just doesn’t love it the way Yuna and Shane do, in that all- consuming, world-defining way of theirs that binds the two of them together tighter than just blood. Sometimes, David feels like he’s missing out. Mostly, though, he’s glad they have something to share, something that’s uniquely theirs. David doesn’t have something like that with Shane. He loves Shane, he really does, loves him more than breathing, but… Shane knows that Yuna loves him because they speak hockey to each other and understand each other perfectly. David should be able to keep up with them —he played hockey at McGill—but he can’t, somehow, because his relationship with hockey is fundamentally different. For Yuna, hockey is as intrinsic to her as her Japanese heritage: something deep inside her, tied to ideas like belonging and identity. For Shane, it’s much the same. For David, hockey is a sport he was good enough at that he kept playing it until he couldn't play it anymore, and then he did something else. When Shane is three, Yuna buys him skates. “Isn’t it a little early?” David asks. Yuna shakes her head. “You’ve got to start them early,” she says, unlacing the skates, “so that skating is as natural as walking.” David wants to ask why any of that is necessary, but he doesn’t, because he knows why, even if he doesn’t understand it. Because Yuna loves hockey with her whole self. In those early days, David finds himself praying to a God he hasn’t believed in since childhood that Shane will love hockey like Yuna does, because David’s pretty sure it would break her heart if Shane saw hockey the same way David did, through unromantic eyes. His prayers are answered. Hockey is everything to Shane; he loves it with his whole self. He is a difficult kid, or maybe David and Yuna are just unpracticed parents. Shane is particular. He cries a lot, and he fusses over everything, and he doesn’t have any friends because he doesn’t like talking about anything but hockey, doesn’t like doing anything but hockey. And Yuna is happy to indulge him, and David is happy to indulge her. So Shane heads down the same path David was on, some twenty years before, only the world has changed a lot since then. Things are a lot less private. Strangers have opinions on Shane’s style of play and make predictions about where he’ll fall in the draft. Shane is a child. He should be playing Grounders with his friends, laughing and smiling until his face hurts. He should have friends. Instead, he has teammates and coaches and spectators and tag-alongs and rivals, and David doesn’t think any of it is very healthy at all, actually. Shane melts down all the time, over everything. He doesn’t want to eat dinner. He doesn’t want to have a bath. He doesn’t want practise to be over. He doesn’t want to miss a game. He doesn’t want new shin pads. He doesn’t want to go to school early. He doesn’t want to go to school at all. Surely, this behaviour isn’t normal. Surely, David and Yuna aren’t just failing at every turn. Surely there’s a reason why Shane is so… impossible. Why the world seems to stymie him. “I think Shane might be autistic,” one of Shane’s teachers says at Parent-Teacher night, and David doesn’t know what that is, but he’s filled with relief that there’s a word for what they are struggling with, that there are families like theirs out there, children like Shane; that they aren’t alone. Yuna doesn’t see it that way. David should’ve known she wouldn’t. “Don’t tell me what my son is,” she says, angry in the way that she never is. “There’s nothing wrong with him.” But there is something… maybe not wrong with Shane, but different. David tries to bring it up to Yuna, but she shuts it down every time. “How would you know?” she says, with that same anger. “You’re never here. Don’t tell me what my son is.” Yuna’s son. Like David is nothing to Shane, nothing to either of them, intruding on the two of them. Sometimes, at practises, other parents ask David which kid is his, and they are always surprised when the answer is Shane. He must take after his mother, they say, which is their way of saying that he doesn’t look white. “Our son is hurting!”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,157
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76634166
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The MILF Theory (And Why the Internet Got It Wrong) by pucksandpower
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
The internet has decided that Ilya Rozanov is absolutely, definitely, 100% banging a Hollander. They’ve got photo evidence. Multiple sightings. Instagram stories from the same café. The man stayed OVERNIGHT at the Hollander residence. It’s the most legendary power move in NHL history: seduce your rival’s hot mom to assert dominance. There’s just one tiny problem with this theory. Ilya’s fucking a Hollander, all right. Just … not that one. Or in which Ilya’s boyfriend's mother keeps adopting him, the internet keeps assuming the worst, and Shane Hollander is having the worst month of his entire life. At least until he does something that breaks hockey forever. Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: 【授翻】香草妈妈理论（已完结） by 3Liquids Translation into Русский available: Это не то, что вы думаете! by dramione_must_reads r/hockey Posted by u/puckedup247 • 3h ago Okay what the FUCK is going on with Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander’s mom??? So I was at this charity thing in Ottawa yesterday (my aunt volunteers) and I literally saw Ilya Rozanov having brunch with Yuna Hollander. Just the two of them. At this cozy little place on Elgin Street. And like … they seemed REALLY comfortable with each other??? She kept touching his arm and laughing and he was doing that thing where he leans in all close when he talks. I took a pic but it’s blurry as hell (sorry, was trying to be subtle). Am I insane or is this weird??? Why would Rozanov be hanging out with his RIVAL’S MOM??? [Blurry photo of a curly-haired man in a leather jacket sitting across from an elegant woman with long black hair at a café table] 2.4k comments u/hockeyfan_617 819 points • 3h ago oh my fucking god u/BearsNation96 723 points • 3h ago LMAOOOOO this is the most alpha shit I’ve ever seen. Rozanov is literally fucking with Hollander by dating his mom. I’m fucking DECEASED 💀💀💀 u/VoyageursForever 651 points • 2h ago This cannot be real. This CANNOT be real. I refuse to believe this is happening. u/CheckingForHockey 589 points • 2h ago Guys, there’s probably a totally innocent explanation for- Actually no, I got nothing. This is wild. u/PuckSlut420 512 points • 2h ago okay but can we acknowledge that Yuna Hollander is like 52 and looks like THAT? I’d shoot my shot too tbh u/BearsNation96 301 points • 2h ago Right??? Total rocket. Rozanov’s got taste. u/MontrealMadness 445 points • 2h ago Shane Hollander is somewhere having a complete fucking meltdown right now and I wish I could see it u/hockeyinsider99 398 points • 2h ago This is the most elaborate mindfuck in NHL history. Rozanov saw “fuck the Voyageurs” and said “okay, specifically the mother of their first line center“ LILY: Someone on reddit has picture of me and your mama at brunch LILY: Is very blurry but still LILY: People think I am fucking her 😂😂😂 JANE: WHAT JANE: WHAT THE FUCK JANE: ILYA LILY: Is very funny! LILY: They think I do this to mess with you LILY: Like psychological warfare JANE: This is NOT funny JANE: People think you’re SLEEPING WITH MY MOTHER LILY: I know!!! 😂😂😂 LILY: Is hilarious JANE: ILYA. LILY: Shane, relax LILY: Your mama thinks is funny too LILY: She send me the reddit link JANE: oh my god JANE: oh my GOD
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,813
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76676306
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“We were doing brunch. It was nice. Your dad made their kitchen look like the fancy brunch places on Instagram. We were talking about my schooling, hobbies, friends, movies, normal shit. Boring shit. Then your mother starts talking about my sponsors and savings and suddenly I am giving her my banking information and the phone number of my accountant and I am signing many, many, many papers. She had a scary folder.” Ilya pulls out the scary folder and the thing was thicker than the book Shane was reading. He tosses it on the couch and it lands with a heavy thump. “It was under her chair the whole time and I did not see. The places I had to sign were already highlighted and the date was already written in.” Ilya tosses his body on the couch. Somehow, he makes less of an impact than the Scary Folder. “She owns me now, yes?” Seemingly on cue, Shane's phone lights up with a notification that Yuna Hollander has shared a calendar with you. Oh, God. or: shane's mom keeps slutting out his boyfriend (!!!) to sponsors and shane's totally cool and chill about it no really he's FINE
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,559
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76571676
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Cheering for Dada by moshpitghost
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-28
After Ilya retires he becomes a wag, taking his and Shane’s daughter to games to cheer for him. Based on a tweet I saw abt Ilya being a wag It’s only been a few months since Ilya Rozanov retired from the Ottawa Centaurs, he still had good hockey left in him, don’t get him wrong, but his love for hockey was never stronger than the love for his daughter—their daughter. Little Irina Hollander-Rozanov, the only person Shane and Ilya loved more than each other, had come into the world a year and a half ago. Shane had discussed her future in great lengths with Ilya when they found out she’d arrive in nine short months and what that meant for their careers. Ilya was grateful he had the opportunity to play alongside some of the best hockey players in the world over his long career, he wanted to keep doing that, but the second that little hand wrapped around his finger he made up his mind. He was going to be the best father he could be, no matter how absolutely terrified he’d been. Irina had been born during the season, after her birth Ilya got his affairs in order and attended a press conference where he announced he’d be retiring at the end of the season. He prefaced that he was getting older, it was getting harder to recover. That was no lie, being in his thirties was making it harder to bounce back after games. But his ultimate reason for retiring: he had a daughter and he absolutely needed to be present for her life. Shane watched his retirement announcement from the sidelines, holding their daughter in the media room of the Centaurs arena watching his husband answer too many questions. His many words carefully arranged with his warm voice cradling every syllable, he noticed a few tears had fallen from his eyes. They achieved their dreams. Together. And now they get to do the best thing they’ve ever done. Raise a child together. Shane was named captain of the Centaurs after Ilya retired. He hadn’t been a captain in years but this season he’d lead this team and he’d make damn sure to make Ilya proud. It was their home opener of the season, the arena was packed to the brim with fans—most wearing Hollander or Rozanov jerseys. They’d all come to watch the team Ilya spent so long leading take on their new leader and hopefully remain the same beloved team. Ilya was still getting ready at home, of course he’d attend this game. He wouldn’t miss it for the world. Even if Shane had told him over and over, “You don’t have to come.” It would take every supernatural force in the world to keep Ilya away from that arena today. He pulled on a jersey, a Hollander one, something he never thought he’d be doing. “Papa!” Ilya turned around to see little Irina being held by Yuna Hollander, they wouldn’t miss this game either. “Lisichka, look at you.” He smiled at her little jersey. It was of course a Hollander one except the name on the back had been replaced with ‘Dada’. “Dada is going to love this.” He took her in his arms kissing her cheeks making her giggle. They made it to the arena just before warm up’s. Ilya had been walking around with Irina on his hip showing her around the arena, he ran into Harris who’d been running back and forth. “Ilya! And baby!” Harris smiled. “The guys are still in the locker room if you want to pop in and say hi.” “I think yes,” Ilya looked at Irina. “What you think, solnyshko?” She just grabbed at his face and giggled. “Let’s go see dada.” “Dada!” She yelled. “Yes, dada!” Ilya smiled. Ilya followed Harris into the locker room. The team had been sitting around suiting up for the game, some stretching, and others taking their time getting their mind right. “We have visitors!” Harris announced. Ilya saw the guys look up and immediately start pushing each other out of the way to get to Irina. They all fought for her attention, prompting her to see who’s name she’d say first. Her attention quickly went from the group to Shane pushing his teammates aside. “Dada!” She smiled wide. “Baby!” Shane took her in his arms, placing huge kisses on her cheeks. “Wow! Look at this. Wearing my jersey! Much better than papa’s, huh.” Shane felt like he would explode from the cuteness. “What about your husband?” Ilya crossed his arms. Shane smiled at Ilya, he wrapped one arm around Ilya’s waist planting a quick kiss on him that earned lots of chirping from his teammates. “You look great too.” Shane didn’t know that this is where his life would lead after all those years of being so scared of the world knowing he loved Ilya Rozanov, but it was so worth it now. “That’s better,” Ilya ran a hand down Shane’s chest resting on the new ‘C’ that graced his chest. “Captain.” He smiled at Shane, he saw a blush creep up his neck. “Don’t ruin my team.” “My team now and how can I lose when I have the best good luck charms?” Shane was filled with pure happiness, nothing could be better than his little family here to cheer him on. He couldn’t remember why he told Ilya not to come in the first place, he would’ve missed out on this.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,515
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76576916
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The missing conversation between Ilya and David where David shares some things and Ilya starts to think that there might just be a space in this family for him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,656
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76556606
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Chemistry, huh? (or how Ilya Rozanov gets added to the Hollander family group chat) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha)
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-28
“Uh, Ilya? More vodka?” David offers tentatively. “Sure, okay. Maybe one more,” Ilya says. He’s not entirely sure what's considered an acceptable drink limit for the occasion of ‘Surprise! Your son is gay and I’ve been fucking him in secret under the nose of the entire MLH and Scott Hunter in the hotel room next door, and I’m in love with him, actually,’ but given the look on his face, well - David might need the second drink more than Ilya does at this present moment.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,397
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76557861
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The Blue Pillow by masterroadtripper
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-28
When they pulled into the garage of their house in Ottawa, Ilya gently prodded Shane to, “shower, get yourself ready.” Of course, that could mean just about anything, and that was why Ilya phrased it that way. If Shane wanted quiet, wanted to cuddle in the quiet, he could pull on his most ridiculous flannel pajamas and curl in close. But if Shane wanted him, wanted the one language that never failed between them anymore, then Shane knew what he had to do. And Ilya had a sense that he already knew what Shane would choose. They had no match that day, just training with the Centaurs, but Ilya knew Shane had woken on the wrong side of the bed. One of those mornings where the light coming between the cracks in their window blinds felt abrasive. Where none of his clothes were right. Where he’d shower before leaving for the rink and then again once he got there, the first not having counted because he’d already ruined it by existing in the world. Lunch would be an ordeal that Ilya watched for the sole purpose of ensuring that Shane ate something. Anything too warm or too textured would be left untouched, until he inevitably defaulted to a bowl of chickpeas and spinach because at least those two foods behaved predictably and did exactly what Shane expected them to do. The buzzer made him flinch every time it went off when they got ready for some drills in the afternoon, sharp and unavoidable, and on the drive home Shane picked at the skin around his fingernails until it lifted in long, thin pieces. Ilya had learned the signs long before he understood them. Back when they’d first started this, so many years ago now, he’d thought Shane was perhaps slightly difficult. Different. That was what everyone said. They were never cruel enough to say anything more than that then, though Ilya would later learn how quickly that restraint would wear thin once winning stopped making up for inconvenience. When he was particular to the point of peculiarity, or quiet to the point of unease, Ilya would watch those big brown eyes tracking everything and everyone on the ice. There were times when Shane didn’t speak at all. Not out of sulking or stubbornness, not as some calculated refusal, but because the words simply never arrived. His mouth would open and close again, the thought intact but unreachable, and he’d turn his head slightly away from Ilya, his gaze fixing on something neutral like a lamp or a building out the window. Ilya knew now that Shane could and would go nonverbal, though at the time he didn’t have the English for it, didn’t have any language beyond the uneasy certainty that pushing would only make it worse. What Shane did have language for were systems. Rules. Things that behaved if you treated them correctly. Folding his clothes with precise, almost reverent care. Lacing his skates the same way every time. Eating the same meals, parking in the same spot, walking the same routes through the increasingly familiar away cities as if repetition might smooth out their edges. Ilya knew that people mistook Shane’s steadiness for control, for leadership even, and Ilya knew that Shane let them. That it was easier than admitting how much effort it took to appear normal to the world that wouldn’t see him that way. At the time, Ilya hadn’t known why the rituals mattered so much, why deviation hit Shane like a personal failure instead of a minor inconvenience. No one ever called it anything because the league loved men like Shane. Players who were disciplined, controlled, and relentlessly prepared. What Ilya had known, back then, was that sex was simpler, even if it was riskier. He had gambled. All those years ago, he’d noticed that the only time Shane ever truly came alive, ever seemed able to meet Ilya where he was, was on the ice. Skates carving into the rink, their shoulders colliding. Physicality seemed to give Shane something that his words never quite managed to do. It was the way through to him, Ilya had realized, a way out. So if Ilya wanted more, if he wanted anything, it would have to start there. It would have to be physical, Ilya knew almost right away. After that first, sharp “fuck off” chirp from Shane in the showers after the CCM commercial before their rookie year, even though Shane’s voice had been rough and startled, Ilya knew he was onto something. Not because Shane had said “not here” to him after he’d turned to face Shane front-on, but because he’d said anything at all. Because he’d stayed. Because he’d opened his hotel room door. Because as soon as Ilya had gotten his hands on him, had gotten his mouth on Shane’s, it was like Ilya had cracked the code and had found a way to get through to Shane like he’d only otherwise been able to on the ice. Shane might not have been able to speak it, might not have been able to admit it even to himself, but Ilya knew he’d found the way in much better than he had in the hotel gym. They didn’t have to talk. They never did. Sex, touch, pressure, heat, it all seemed to cut through that weird noise he could see crossing Shane’s features in a way that made Ilya realize that was more immediate to focus on than anything else. They were good at it. They always had been. And for a long time, Ilya mistook that relief for resolution, believing that whatever was breaking Shane down during the day could be burned off at night, leaving nothing behind that would ever need to be named. Eventually, Shane tried to explain. Not all at once, and not easily. He put a name to what he'd had been dealing with since he was a kid, and said it like it was something fragile, easily mishandled, as though he weren’t entirely sure Ilya would know the word, or what to do with it if he did. He did. David had mentioned it to him before. It had been the first time they’d talked properly, out at the cottage a few days after they’d accidentally outed themselves to Shane’s parents. David had taken Ilya aside, not unkindly, but with a careful seriousness that felt earned. He’d told him that Shane’s mother had been… less understanding. That as both his mother and his manager, she struggled with anything that might make Shane less than his best. Less marketable. Less predictable. Anything that threatened the version of him the league found easiest to celebrate. David hadn’t spoken badly of her, but instead, he’d just looked tired. He said that all he’d ever wanted for Shane was for him to be happy, and that only part of that happiness could be hockey, no matter how much it had come to define him. He wanted Shane to be loved, for who he was, not for what he could produce, and he wanted Ilya to be able to love him too. Regardless of hockey. Regardless of autism. Not in spite of it, but without fear of it. So when Shane finally said it himself - "I'm autistic, Ilya" - sitting beside him with his hands folded tight in his lap, eyes fixed somewhere just past the horizon, Ilya understood what it had cost him. This wasn’t new information, not exactly, but it was Shane offering up something that had so often been treated as liability, asking without quite asking to be held there without being diminished. Shane admitted that hockey was the first language he’d ever known, quite literally. Ever since the first game his father took him to when he was four, perched high in the stands with the cold seeping through his boots, the arena roaring loudly around him, Shane had chewed
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,880
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76566646
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shed some light, shed some light on me please by smittenstar
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-28
Something's up with Ilya and he's doing his best to hide it. A concussion makes it all come crumbling down on him. AKA, the Ilya depression & insomnia fic, because the Long Game wasn't nearly angsty enough for me.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,374
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76316536