How ‘Heated Rivalry’ Fan Fiction Took Over My Life
Short summary
This article explores why adults become intensely consumed by fan fiction, using the "Heated Rivalry" hockey romance series as a case study. It examines what makes certain fan fiction compulsively readable and how people's lives shift before and after discovering it.
- Fan fiction consumption can be all-consuming enough to cost people sleep and work hours, with fans describing a stark before-and-after in their lives once they discover a story that hooks them
- The "Heated Rivalry" fandom exploded after the HBO Max series premiere, with a scholar noting massive fan fiction output in the five months following the show's release
- Theories for why fan fiction is so addictive range from dopamine rushes and ADHD stimulation-seeking to burnout recovery, but the simplest explanation is that some stories are just "too much, too good"
Full summary
The piece centers on the obsessive appeal of fan fiction based on Rachel Reid's *Heated Rivalry* novels—stories about rival NHL players Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov navigating closeted lives in professional hockey. The author explores how readers consume endless variations: the characters as neighbors, *Love Island* contestants, a *Bachelor* producer and the lead himself. One fan, Elizabeth, 39, admits the obsession cost her sleep and billable work hours. She used to think intense fandom was weird; then *Heated Rivalry* hit HBO Max and she became consumed by the characters' yearning and romance. The author herself found reading Shane and Ilya's story the only relief from constant irritability and exhaustion, describing it as compulsive in ways that feel unhealthy.
The article frames this as a broader cultural moment. Fan-fiction scholar Kristina Busse argues that the explosion of *Heated Rivalry* fan content in the five months after the show's season-one premiere reflects what she calls "too much, too good"—a phrase borrowed from the series itself. The piece tosses around explanations: dopamine hits, ADHD-driven need for constant stimulation, burnout requiring comfort. But the real pull seems to be something simpler: the characters work. They're tortured by hockey's homophobia and their own trauma, yet deeply in love. Readers keep returning to variations because the core dynamic—two men who can't be together until they finally can—hits something real.
The article sits within *The Cut's* "Full Steam Ahead" series about spicy stories, positioning *Heated Rivalry* fandom alongside broader conversations about adults reading romance and yearning. It doesn't pretend fan fiction consumption is harmless leisure—Elizabeth's lost sleep and work hours matter. But it also doesn't moralize. Instead, it treats the obsession as a genuine cultural phenomenon worth understanding, one where the line between "real" books and fan fiction has blurred enough that plenty of adults no longer apologize for either.