Taviia



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    Shane Hollander is just trying to survive NYU biochemistry, hockey practice, and the graveyard shift at 7-Eleven. He's too exhausted to notice that his new regular customer is Russian mafia, or that Ilya's interest in him goes beyond terrible coffee and cookies.

    When Ilya hands him a $10,000 designer scarf and matching gloves, Shane doesn't panic. He sells them for next month's rent. Any normal person would be terrified. Instead, Shane uses the leftover money to buy a Hello Kitty watch, pastel pink, childish, utterly incongruous with the danger circling him. He wears it to his next night shift without irony or apology.

    Ilya notices immediately. He is fascinated.

    (Currently under major editing. Can still be read.)

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    03 Feb 2026

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    Amidst the beeping of hospital machines and blinding white of hospital linens, 18-year-old Shane Hollander wakes up.
    He feels weird, wrong, different. His body feels fuller, thicker. He can feel the IV drip in his wrist, acutely. He wants to rip it off.
    But most of all, he feels older.
    Like, at least 10 years older. Which is weird, because he only had a little fall on the ice, nothing that should make his head throb in this manner.
    In a very short amount of time, a doctor is standing in front of him, asking him too many questions.
    “Mr. Hollander, where do you remember being last?”

    Shane grimaces. He searches for it, in his mind, wading through the fog until he grasps onto something. “The Prospect cup. I fell, but I feel like it wasn’t that bad, to give me a headache like this.”

    The doctor furrows his brow.

    “What year is it, Mr. Hollander?”

    Shane tells him, confidently, “2008.”
    “Do you remember anything about Ilya Rozanov?”
    Shane can’t help but flush, remembering what had happened just last night.

    “He’s a good player, but he’s very cocky. I don’t like him that much.”

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    30 Jan 2026

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    Ilya tucked his smile against Shane’s neck and brought his hand down Shane’s front. “He used to be so boring,” he said to Hunter. “Would not let me fuck him because you were next door.”

    Shane groaned. “You’re such an asshole—that was a long time ago,” he said. “I was trying to be discreet.”

    “Yes, and now look at you,” Ilya said. “Go suck Hunter’s dick.”

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    27 Jan 2026

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    Shane's supposed to meet Ilya in room 1221, but a wrong number lands him at Scott's door instead. What starts as an accident becomes something Shane didn't know he needed—someone who understands, who doesn't hide, who makes him feel like he can be honest.

    One night changes everything. Now Shane wants more than stolen moments in dark hotel rooms. He wants this—both of them. And Ilya, finally realizing what he stands to lose, is ready to fight for him too.

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    27 Jan 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 43

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    —"Agh! Fuck me!”
    “Well, that’s what I’ve been meaning to do for a while, Forehead…”
    “What?? Prosecutor Gavin, I-I can’t believe you said that! Oh my god!” Is what Klavier expected to run out of Apollo’s lips, right under a delightfully red forehead. But…
    “Really now?” Apollo straightens up, walking towards Klavier before looking up at him, eyes playful despite the lack of smirk. “And… how long is that, exactly?”—

    or: Klavier is desperately, helplessly crushing on Apollo. And the only way he can actually confess his feelings is through explicit propositions that are never taken seriously… Except, for once, it actually works.

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    17 Dec 2025