chitty



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    Rozanov made a dismissive noise. “No, no, I will pick you up. Send me your address.”

    “I’m not giving you my home address.”

    “Why not!”

    “Because you’ll probably post it on social media to psych me out before our next game.”

    That made Rozanov laugh. “It is good idea,” he said. Stopped laughing. Started again. Blew out a breath like he had to get himself together. “I might do this to you,” he allowed, “but you have nice boyfriend living with you now. I would not do this to him. You are safe.”

     

    In which Ilya Rozanov adopts himself into Scott and Kip's household and refuses to leave. Kip finds this very sweet. Scott is going to kill him.

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    16 Apr 2026

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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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    14 Apr 2026

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    A series of somewhat haphazardly connected social media fics that take inspo from pop/stan culture

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    11 Apr 2026

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    The first sound Ilya hears is a thin, discordant symphony of beeps and whirs. Something vibrating. 

    The next thing he hears is…wet. A sort of shaking, gargling sound, that feels like the ugliest crying he’s ever heard. And through it, Shane’s voice. 

    “I’m with him now, mom. He’s— he’s not fine. He’s not. I know—”

    Ilya wants to ask who's not fine, but he can’t feel his own body, his mouth, enough to ask.

    “Yeah,” Shane is saying, only slightly calmer. “I know. He wasn’t breathing—"

    Ilya knows there's a link, between the clinical musicality of medical settings, Shane’s audible, awful distress, and his own physical incapacity. It’s just, it’s so tenuous, and the air around him is so thick, so heavy. It would be easy, to sleep, a little. 

    -
    Footage of the last game between Ottawa and Montreal is everywhere; it’s breached containment from the sports world, and now it seems like everyone is baying for Montreal’s blood. Except, Ilya is oblivious. Not exactly blissfully so, but as the fight for accountability within the league rages on without him, Ilya just wants someone, anyone, to tell him what happened.

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    06 Apr 2026

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    Shane and Ilya had mutually agreed to keep their whatever-they’re-doing out of Sochi. It was an easy decision to make: this was bigger than any MLH rivalry and definitely bigger than a few hotel hook-ups. There was no room for distractions, not with Olympic gold on the line.

    So it’d be really fucking great if their daemons could get on the same page and stop trying to cause an international fucking incident.

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    06 Apr 2026