Ilovechaats



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    “Ah.”

    “‘Ah’,” Ilya repeats, giving him a look before he looks back to the tidily stacked frozen mouse packages in the freezer and makes a face as a little badly-hidden shudder moves through him. “Why the fuck do you have mice in your freezer, Shane? You are doing serial killer shit now? This is why you have cottage in the middle of nowhere? For serial killer things?”

    “It’s for Spaghetti,” Shane says.

    Ilya gives him an absolutely horrified look at that and turns a little green, which makes him remember that Spaghetti isn’t just his snake's name.

    “Not food!” He rushes to explain. “Not food spaghetti! Snake Spaghetti!”

    “What the fuck are you even saying right now,” Ilya says, looking honestly a little concerned that Shane might have something going wrong in his head.

    (Distancing himself from almost twenty years of owning a snake, Shane can indeed see why this situation might be a little alarming for someone on the outside looking in.)

    (It also clues him in to the fact that maybe it’s not just Spaghetti who should have gotten a little adjustment period.)

    (in which i give shane allergies AND a snake)

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    01 Oct 2026

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    Shane decides he should let everyone believe he has a hook-up in every city, so it will no longer seem suspicious that he always disappears in Boston.

    While Shane is proud of himself for the ruse and for the ability to explore new places after away games, Ilya handles the new rumor with grace and dignity. Which is to say he suddenly feels the need to text and maybe even call Shane on his roadies to see if he can keep him occupied.

    Based on a Tumblr post listed below.

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    29 Sep 2026

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    Ilya Rozanov has been drafted by Boston, the number one pick overall, but his father doesn't want him moving to America and so takes steps to block his visa. He's going to have to go back to Russia and stay there forever and that, thinks Shane Hollander, is wrong.

    It's so wrong that Shane can't stop himself from doing something about it. Even though that something is the most reckless, the only reckless thing he's ever done in his life. He marries Rozanov in secret, to keep him out of Russia and put him on a path to Canadian citizenship.

    Shane's got a five-year plan to get him there and when you have a plan nothing can go wrong. Right? Right. When you have a solid plan and a marriage that's on paper only there's no risk of feelings getting involved. Not on Rozanov's part and certainly not on Shane's.

    Right???

    (or, the story of how Shane Hollander fell in love with his own husband)

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    12 Sep 2026

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    Following an afternoon of sex and tuna melts, Shane goes searching for the explicit rules of what being 'friends with benefits' entails. In his humble opinion, they're nailing it.

    Once friendship is on the table, Shane reconsiders the usefulness and immutability of the public rivalry narrative. Surely the NHL can make just as much money from a bromance as it can from a rivalry?

    A missed call from J.J., a dinner at All-Stars, and an ill-considered mad dash to the airport send Shane's season in a very different direction to the disciplined three-peat he'd been planning back in October.


    "This rivalry thing: it was everyone else who said we hated each other off the ice. There’s no rule that says we have to keep doing that forever.” Shane stared outside, past the blinding billboards and down at the streets below. “It was nice. Hanging out, last time.”

    He knew what it looked like when Rozanov shut down, when he closed himself off and pushed the world away. He’d finish the conversation abruptly, curt, clipped, and retreat. So Shane knew he’d won when Rozanov finally answered with: “Are we six years old, Hollander? Asking if I want to play in sandbox with you?"

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    12 Sep 2026

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    “I’m trying to figure out,” Rose wonders aloud. “Are you always a complete prick? Just with women? Or just when you lose a game?”

    Ilya barks a laugh, shocked and almost delighted, and his smile spreads wide enough that Rose can see all those pearly whites of his that are so much nicer than she expected any hockey player’s to be. “All the time,” he grins, “all the time. However much of an asshole Hollander has told you I am, double it.”

    She answers truthfully, shrugs her shoulders in her tiny silver dress. “He hasn’t mentioned you at all.”

    After a shitshow of an evening in a Montreal nightclub, Ilya wakes up the next morning in Shane’s bed. Only, he’s not in Shane’s bed — Rose Landry is, and he’s in Rose Landry’s body, and she’s in his. Well, what the fuck are they supposed to do with that?

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    31 Aug 2026