something_that_exists



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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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    16 Feb 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    A whump fanfiction series that is actually, secretly, a fix-it.

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    15 Feb 2026

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    14 Feb 2026

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    Maybe if the video ended there, Shane thought, it would be okay. Okayish. Still incriminating. Still a fucking disaster. Still embarrassing, to have his breakup with this beautiful actress filmed and disseminated on Reddit of all fucking places, but not a nail in his coffin, burying him alive. But the video didn’t end there.

    “Can I ask if you’ve ever been with another guy?” she had to ask.

    And he, tears visible in his eyes, had to nod.

    Just once. Just a single nod.

    Why did he have to nod?

    “Have you ever told anyone that before?” He shook his head. “Was it different? With a guy?”

    “Of course.”

    Of course.

    “Was it better?”

    “Yes.”

    +++

    Shane’s conversation with Rose is secretly recorded. Months later, after the All-Star game and Ilya’s confession in Russian, the video gets leaked online. Shane is outed to the world while Ilya is in Russia, and must now finish the 2016-2017 season with the entire world in on his secret.

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    12 Feb 2026

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    “Shane?” Ilya asks again. “What happened?” His gloveless hand twitches and he lifts it a fraction of an inch towards Shane.

    Shane tosses his own gloves to the ice and reaches forward, lacing their fingers together. “You took a bad hit,” he says, gritting his teeth against the fear clawing at his guts. “Flipped headfirst into the ice. Are you okay?”

    Ilya groans in answer and squeezes his hand, though Shane can't tell if he meant to do that or not.

    Suddenly, there are people all around them. Shane shifts protectively close before he realizes it’s the medical team.

    “Hollander, get back to your bench,” someone says, but there’s no way Shane’s going. Even if he wanted to, Ilya’s gripping his hand like a lifeline, eyes finally locked on Shane’s face. Shane isn’t leaving him.

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    11 Feb 2026