easypeasy
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The internet gets confirmation: Shane Hollander has a girlfriend. Called Lily.
Ever considered how many Lilys there are in North America? Or how many people with parasocial delusions?
Twitter is flooded with #findLily pretenders.
@insomniac_bookworm42 | Did you learn Photoshop at one of those free “Computers for Senior Citizens” classes at the library?
@insomniac_bookworm42 | If not, you should ask for a refund
@preoccupied_educator | this is insulting to those of us who make weird self-insert clout chasing parasocial photoshopped pictures of ourselves with celebrities for a living
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Bookmarked by easypeasy
10 Aug 2026
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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 easypeasy
10 Aug 2026
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When Hob Gadling needs a plus-one for a colleague's wedding, he does what any reasonable six-hundred-year-old immortal would do: he asks the anthropomorphic personification of dreams to pretend to be his boyfriend.
What could go wrong?
Bookmarked by easypeasy
27 Jul 2026
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He watches Hollander’s eyes track over the laundry detergent sitting on a shelf, the amount in the hamper and back to the machine, and it’s as obvious as if he’s got a little thought bubble actually hovering above his head— “you want to start a load of laundry,” he says, snickering a little.
“It’s just— we’re on the road again in two days, and all my normal stuff is dirty,” Shane says, reaching for the hamper and sifting through to grab only the lighter colors.
“Okay,” Ilya says. He’s still hard, and he presses a hand to the bulge under his pants, ostentatious, a blatant display as Hollander turns to look at him. “You do your household chore in middle of sexy hookup. I will go get naked and lie in your bed, and if you can tear yourself away, maybe you get there in time for me to get inside you before I come.”
Hollander’s eyes darken, flickering down to Ilya’s hand pressed against his groin. “Uh. Give me like. Thirty seconds. A minute.”
And, indeed, it can’t be longer than a minute later that Hollander is naked and climbing on top of Ilya on the bed, the low rumble of the washing machine providing a soundtrack to their embrace.
Bookmarked by easypeasy
19 Jul 2026
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“Good game,” Ilya snarks, he can’t help it, and Hollander shoves him hard enough into the wall that he only narrowly avoids banging his head. “You looked so hot, that goal in the second, you deserve reward—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Hollander says, and he slams into Ilya with hardly less ferocity than they’d hit each other during the game, crushing their mouths together.
Ilya’s vision whites out, his knees nearly buckle. He’s grateful for the wall as he grabs at Hollander and pulls him in tight, shoving a thigh between Hollander’s legs, sucking and biting at his lips, groaning loud and uninhibited as Hollander’s hand comes up to the back of his neck, fingers twisting into his curls. The kiss is furious and wet and hot and so much, Ilya is so fucking hot for it, he’s been thinking about this for weeks, reading through his text thread with Jane, jerking off almost every night with the memory of the last time playing in a loop behind his eyelids.
He’s never wanted anything like he wants sex with Hollander, and it sort of feels like they’ve already been going at it for hours, every glance and chirp and hit on the ice has been building to this, working him, driving him fucking crazy.
Bookmarked by easypeasy
05 Jul 2026