Bonniebb



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    After they came out, Shane was ready for people to be weird.

    It was weird with other guys in the league, weird with reporters, weird with angry fans who thought his relationship had tanked their fantasy teams and their sports betting parlays, weird with sponsors and their very enthusiastic pride campaign pitches, weird on all the social media that he avoided like the plague.

    What he hadn't expected was for things to be so fucking weird with other gay people.

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    15 Jul 2026

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    12 Jul 2026

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    [Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov sit on director’s chairs in a white sound studio. They are both wearing Ottawa Centaurs jerseys, and Ilya smiles warmly at Shane as a makeup artist places a small bit of powder across his cheeks while a producer hands them both a practice board.]

    Shane: So, these are just internet searches people do of us?

    Producer: Yes! The most popular ones, and you just answer or comment on them. There’s one board for you, one for Ilya, and then one of the two of you combined. 

    Shane: Sounds harmless enough. 

    Ilya: You do not spend much time on the internet if you think this sounds harmless. 

    Producer: Would you like to practice taking the tape off? 

    [They both nod, and she hands each of them a board. Shane politely and carefully rips off the top piece of tape, focusing on pulling it straight off without ripping it. During the time it takes Shane to take off one piece, Ilya rips off four, crumpling up the tape and throwing it in the air like confetti. A piece hits Shane’s head, and he looks at his husband, slightly startled, while Ilya beams back happily.]

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    10 Jul 2026

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    “Uh,” he says, looking up from his screen and feeling his ears go hot, realizing for the first time that this habit of his hasn’t actually come up before until this exact moment.

    “What?” Rozanov asks, sounding more amused than anything else. “You are one of the people who does Instagram for food now?”

    “No,” Shane says, stalling between answering and finishing his Snap so he can send it to Melissa, “one sec.” He finishes typing out 'Tuna melt. Chips. Pickles. It smells really good. Swiss cheese, I think.' before he looks back to Rozanov, putting his phone facedown on the coffee table. “Just sending it to someone on the staff. She likes knowing what I’m eating.”

    He doesn’t know if Melissa likes knowing what he’s eating, per se, but she also seems pleased when he talks about enjoying food for things beyond how many grams of protein it has in it.

    “Ah,” Rozanov says, in a tone Shane can’t quite read. “You always send her your food then, this girl?”

    (shane has a habit of sending his team's dietician his meals for approval) (the problem with this habit? he forgets to tell ilya exactly what it is that melissa does) (how the tuna meltdown is AVERTED through the power of miscommunication)

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    30 Jun 2026

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    Shane Hollander ✅ @shanehollanderofficial 
    I’ve seen many publications over the years speculating on my own, and my husband’s, hockey stats and accolades in relation to our romantic relationship and when the public assumes it started. 

    We don’t owe this to anyone. But we’ve also been playing professional hockey for seventeen years and we’ve both run out of ahem, cares to give.

    On the right is a photograph from the behind the scenes of our joint CCM advertisement in July of 2010. This photo predates the hundreds of combined accomplishments listed on the left. 

    Oh, and it was also taken about six hours before our first kiss. 

    -----

    or; a year from retirement and out of fucks to give, shane reveals their timeline to twitter in response to the latest speculatory article on their relationship. hollanovs across the world rejoice, centaurs celebrate their beloved dads, and former teammates share the not-so-subtle clues they missed the first time.

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    29 Jun 2026