SleepingPatterns



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane Hollander’s hopes for the NHL were ripped from him by an ACL tear and replaced with doctor prescribed opioids at age 18. Four years later, hockey is a distant memory and his days consist of strange men and chasing a feeling drugs can never seem to provide anymore.

    Ilya Rozanov’s family returned home to Russia when his father’s mental state deteriorated and the government wasted no time snatching back his work visa. Ilya stayed behind in that godforsaken city to do the only thing he had ever been able to support his family doing: sell dope.

    Ilya sees a lot of sad people. Shane sees a lot of horny men. Neither of them are prepared for what they see in each other, and what it means for the boxes they’ve allowed themselves to be put into.

    Language:
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    115,615
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    26/26
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    29 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    works/82428986?view_full_work=true

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "Must be nice."

    Shane's cheeks hurt from the fixed smile he's been wearing since nine in the morning. He passes a signed photo of himself to the waiting woman with a nod before turning back to Hayden. "What must be nice?"

    "Dude, the line of people waiting for your autograph wraps all the way around the building. Twice." Hayden hands him a water bottle, cap already off. "Here you go. Stay hydrated."

    Shane hides a wince; the slightly warm water tastes like plastic, and it lingers unpleasantly on his tongue. He's been signing for what feels like hours already and the crowd isn't getting any smaller. "Fitness is popular these days."

    "Sure. Fitness." Hayden gives a pointed look to the stack of photos in front of Shane: one set with him smiling awkwardly into the distance, arms crossed in his workout gear, and the other with him leaning against the side of a motel pool the marketing department rented for the morning, towel around his neck. The photographer insisted, despite protests that his workouts have never featured swimming.

    Series
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    English
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    9,866
    Chapters:
    3/4
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    1
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    142
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    15 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    works/81145431?view_full_work=true

  3. Public Bookmark 93

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    Shane feels like he might be sick. He crouches down in front of Ilya, slowly, and takes in the reams of scattered notes around them; scrawled Cyrillic, cross-hatched abrasions where the pen has ripped all the way through, a couple of illegible English words dotting the chaos here and there. It looks like a crime scene.

    “What, uh,” Shane starts haltingly, sucking in a shaky breath before trying again. “What’s all this, Ilya?”

    Ilya finally seems to notice that he’s there. He looks at him with wide eyes, red-rimmed, like he’s cried at some point then scrubbed furiously at the tears. Dreadfully, he laughs.

    Language:
    English
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    9,302
    Chapters:
    1/1
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    32
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    415
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    04 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    chapters/219207306

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Lily looked deliberately over Jane’s shoulder at that, her delicate fingers running through her smooth, ash blonde hair. She had started bleaching it a few years earlier.

    “Sure,” she laughed, sharp and flinty, “When are we not fighting?”

    ---

    Jane and Lily as WAGs

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    1/1
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    29 May 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/223224411

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane will be the one to get dementia, in the end, once the disease progresses. He’ll be the one who forgets, in the final stages. It’s unfair, so fucking unfair, but Ilya can’t cry about it in front of their daughters or in front of Shane’s parents. So he gets up from the table and slams the patio door, pats himself down for a cigarette he knows won’t be there until his fingers find his mother’s cross laying heavy against his collarbone.

    Or, Ilya and Shane, and Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE). A series of vignettes.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    7,765
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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    678
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    28 May 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    chapters/206802511