minniesoleil



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya ignored the request from the NHL twice. The first time they asked through his agent, the second time the director of marketing called his personal number directly. He never got along with the league as a player, and he certainly didn't need to make them happy now.

    The next attempt to reach him was harder to ignore. A phone call from an unknown number. A voicemail that made his blood run cold.

    "Hi Ilya. This is Rose Landry. We've never met, but Shane speaks so highly of you. I think the NHL has been trying to get in touch. Shane said you probably wouldn't talk to them. But...think about it, ok? I know it would mean a lot to him."

    The final request crumbled his resolve. The caller ID blinked "Jane," and Ilya stared at it.

    ***
    Canon divergence, Shane and Ilya are estranged for a decade. Shane finally reaches out to Ilya when he retires.

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    19 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    No serious hockey fan or sports commentator worth their salt would have considered record-breaking Boston superstar Ilya Rozanov to be Shane Hollander’s rival exactly, but sleeping with a man who had a specific offense-related vendetta against him and a wrist shot like a jet engine to back it up was probably ill-advised just the same.

    Or, Shane is a goalie. Ilya can’t score.

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    18/18
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    19 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “I’m putting in a transfer request to Carleton this afternoon.”

    Ilya gets off his bike and wraps his sweaty arms around Shane’s sweaty shoulders, presses their sweaty heads together and holds him tight. “Nooo, Hollander, you cannot leave me. Who will put Barrett and Marly in time out when they fuck up too many shots in a row?”

    “I’m sure Bood will do it. He loves bossing people around.”

    Bood stands up straight and salutes his captains. “I take the title with great honor. Enjoy the Ravens, Hollander—your legacy of being a chaste Victorian debutante will be remembered fondly but not carried on.”

    This snaps that last thread of Shane’s refined patience. “I can pick up girls! I have no problem getting numbers and calling them and talking!”

    Hazy smirks. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

    “I can pick people up,” Shane says again, moving off his bike and out of Ilya’s sweaty embrace. “And I don’t have to do it by concocting schemes or stripping on top of the LAX bros’ coffee table.”

    Or, after some team chirping at Shane's expense, Ilya accidentally interrupts a few of his potential dating prospects and then keeps on doing it less than accidentally

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    19 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya started the list when he was seven years old. Then, it was a single sheet of lined paper, the header Потрясающие вещи written in blue marker. Potryasayushchiye veshchi. Brilliant things. Wonderful things, amazing things.

    The first few entries were easy. Simple.

    #1: Пломбир. [Ice cream.]
    #2: Собаки. [Dogs.]
    #3: Катание на коньках. [Ice skating.]
    #4: Жёлтый цвет. [The color yellow.]
    #5: Библиотекарь в школе. [The librarian at school.]

    - - -

    Ilya makes a list for his mother, a list of everything in the world that is brilliant. Of course, he didn't know then how it would continue to change his life more than twenty years later.

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    19 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya widens his eyes, moves his hands in an impatient “get on with it” motion. He has the urge to say it for him, end both their misery. Shane blinks rapidly a few times, takes another deep breath. “I want to stop,” he says simply.

    Ilya lets out one humorless laugh, “Stop what?”

    Shane ignores him. “At the All Star Game, I told you I liked you. And you said about Russia and your family. And I looked some things up. I get it. I get it better now. I know we can’t but I can’t stop wanting to be…more. Unless we stop.”

    OR

    Shane just wants to be friends and Ilya is, like, fine with that or whatever

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    19 Jun 2026