blacktrickle



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    “Alexei, I fucking told you to never call me again, you fucking piece of—”

    “Am I speaking with Ilya Grigorievich Rozanov?”

    Ilya went silent immediately. That was not his brother’s voice. Nor was it Katia’s, his sister-in-law. It was an aristocratic, cold voice. He went completely still.

    “Yes.”

    “I’m calling from the Child Services Department, Ilya Grigorievich,” the woman continued, and Ilya frowned deeply. “Your brother Alexei Rozanov and his wife died yesterday in a car accident.”

    Twice in his life, Ilya had felt like this. The ice around his heart melted just enough for the numbness to vanish and give way to a sharp, stinging pain. It lasted only two seconds before he managed to compose himself. He didn’t want to feel anything for Alexei, so even if Katia’s death carried a trace of sadness—she was a mess, but she always tried to smile at him and cook warm meals for him when he visited Russia—, he dismissed the feeling entirely.

    “So what?”

    “You are the only living family member of their daughter. Your brother named you as her legal guardian, Ilya Grigorievich.”

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    13 Feb 2026

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    The internet has decided that Ilya Rozanov is absolutely, definitely, 100% banging a Hollander.

    They’ve got photo evidence. Multiple sightings. Instagram stories from the same café. The man stayed OVERNIGHT at the Hollander residence.

    It’s the most legendary power move in NHL history: seduce your rival’s hot mom to assert dominance. There’s just one tiny problem with this theory. Ilya’s fucking a Hollander, all right. Just … not that one.

    Or in which Ilya’s boyfriend's mother keeps adopting him, the internet keeps assuming the worst, and Shane Hollander is having the worst month of his entire life. At least until he does something that breaks hockey forever.

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    12 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ilya Rozanov,” Shane repeats slowly, letting himself taste the words. He grins. “Wow. You’re, like, a really good player. How come you’re in Canada for summer camp? Is that weird to ask? Sorry if that’s weird. I just meant-”

    Shane is cut off by a hand on his mouth. He flushes.

    “Too fast,” Ilya says. “My English… not good.”

    “Sorry,” Shane mumbles into Ilya’s hand. Ilya grins and shakes his head, curls dancing, as he pulls his hand away.

    “Is okay. Slow words. Okay?”

    This year marks thirteen year Shane Hollander's third summer at Coach Marakov's elite hockey training camp. In attendance for the first time: Ilya Rozanov, visiting from Russia. Shane isn't the most sociable, and Ilya's English isn't the greatest, yet the unlikely duo soon become the best of friends.

    It's just one summer, but it makes a world of difference.

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    22 Jan 2026