GreenFallenLeaves



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    The problem is, no one knows how to market Ilya Rozanov's (in his own words) sexy Euro masculinity to an audience of white straight men.

    He needs the best. And if it happens to be his secret lover’s mother who despises his very existence, so be it.


    +16319607169

    See? That is what I need. Do not care that you are not professional. You are best
    This is Ilya Rozanov

    Yuna

    This is a fucking joke, right?

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    22 Mar 2026

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    “You are not broken, Ilya,” Terry says, sounding a little stern now. “I told you to keep an eye on the side effects. How long have you been experiencing this?”

    “Since last night.”

    “What?”

    “Since last night,” Ilya repeats. “Or afternoon, technically.”

    And Terry…Terry fucking laughs.

    Ilya is going to die, and Shane will be sad forever and Terry fucking laughs.

    “It hasn’t even been a day?” Terry clarifies, still chuckling. “Well, this could have nothing to do with the medication. It could just be an off day—”

    “Off day?” Ilya repeats incredulously. “Have you seen my husband? There are no off days with an ass like that.”

    OR: Ilya starts taking antidepressants only to realise it's fucking up his sex life. And, he acts totally very chill about it.

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    06 Mar 2026

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    "Why are you not scared?"

    "I am scared," Ilya admits. "I just am tired. Of hiding me. Of hiding you. Of hiding how much I love you. I want to go to the rink— how do you say it? Authenti."

    "Authentically," Shane supplies, automatically.

    "Yes. Authentically. I want to go to the rink authentically, as me," Ilya confirms.

    Ilya looks at Shane, pauses until Shane meets his eyes. "I want to say: I, Ilya Rozanov, love a man, and that man's name is Shane Hollander."

     

    -

    Or, sometimes it takes a little more time, and some courage, to be with the one you love.

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    23 Feb 2026

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    Shane’s eyes snap open. Wait a second.

    “Ilya,” Shane says, propping himself up on his elbows. “Ilya, wake up.”

    Ilya makes a pained noise, eyes still shut. “I shut curtains already.”

    “It’s not that. Ilya, hey. Don’t go back to sleep.” Ilya tries to bury back into Shane’s chest, but adrenaline knifes through Shane’s hangover long enough for him to peel Ilya off and roll him into his back. Ilya blinks blearily up at him, starfished in the sheets. Beautiful and naked and missing his mother’s cross.

     

    OR: When Ilya’s cross goes missing after the Centaurs celebrate their first Stanley Cup win, Shane is determined to get it back. And so are the Centaurs. And the rest of Ottawa.

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    21 Feb 2026

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    “Papa?”

    “Yes, solnyshko?”

    “Can I tell you something and you promise not to tell Dad?”
    ---
    or, ilya reminds their son that genetics don't make a family, love does. and his dads love him very much.

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    20 Feb 2026