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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    16 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya frowns. “Did Dykstra call me stupid?”

    Shane laughs. “No, Ilya. It’s like– when someone is so in love that they act a bit foolish with their… lover,” he explains, putting a special emphasis on the word lover, enjoying the way his boyfriend’s eyes crinkle with joy.

    He kisses his forehead for a split second, just because he can.

    “Ah,” Ilya finally understands, cheeks flaming red despite Russians not blushing. “I, how you say, contain multiples. Shane tells me always.”

    Everyone laughs, not in a mean or unkind way, and Shane is sure that he’s about to burst at the seams with all the love that is flowing through his veins.

    “It’s multitudes, Ilya. I contain multitudes,” he gently corrects.

    A very stressed Shane decides that Ilya deserves to be celebrated. So he comes out to the Ottawa Centaurs on his own and throws his boyfriend a surprise birthday party with them all.

    Language:
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    15 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Wait, Mr. Raiders fan,” Rozanov calls.

    Constable Sullivan pauses.

    “I get a phone call, yes?”

    “Sure.” He pulls out his own phone. “Do you know the number?”

    Rozanov nods. The numbers all come out in a rush, as though he’s memorized it in one long string and can’t think of any of them separately.

    It’s a Montreal area code, the constable notes, as he types it in. As the phone rings, he puts it on speaker and asks Rozanov: “Who is it?”

    “Shane Hollander.”

    “Fuck off. Who is it really?”

    Or: in the midst of the Rose breakup, the Raiders win a game in Montreal. Unable to do what he normally does after Montreal games, Ilya goes out to a club, gets super drunk, and ends up getting picked up by Montreal police for public intoxication. Sitting in a holding cell, the only number he can remember is Shane's.

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    15 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Nothing could have prepared Brandon Wiebe for the conversation he was about to have.

    He was, for the first time in NHL history, about to have Hollander and Rozanov in the same locker room. As permanent teammates, not just a one-off marketing stunt. He didn't know if he was about to see fireworks or a massive explosion, but regardless, he was definitely sitting on a powder keg. He may have been the only coach in the entire league who was willing to take that risk. He wondered vaguely whether he was about to get burned. Or how badly.

    Or

    Coach Wiebe tries to have a discussion with his captain and his new player about their former rivalry. It doesn't go how he expects.

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    14 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “You are planning to rob me or what?” He hears Rozanov call, and he can’t help but smile slightly even as he rolls his eyes, closing the door to the linen closet and feeling strangely lighter than when he opened it, reassured that he’s just trying to read into a blank page, that today doesn’t mean anything more than Rozanov doesn’t mind him being around, which is strangely flattering.

    “I don’t know,” he calls back. “Don’t Russians like diamonds and fur and stuff? Where should I start looking if I want to know what my options are?”

    He hears Rozanov laugh, and it makes him smile.

    When he joins him in the living room once more, Rozanov tugs him down to lean against him again. Shane goes easier this time, settling into it, knowing it doesn’t mean anything other than the fact that he just happens to be the closest warm body, the person on Rozanov’s roster who filled today’s slot.

    (the tuna meltdown doesn't happen) (this does not mean they get ANY better at communication)

    (or: how shane didn't realize he had a boyfriend for several months)

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    14 Jun 2026