Skrifecta
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“...oh,” his mom says. “Oh, honey, you were seeing someone? You never said anything.”
“It’s-it’s complicated.” He catches the present tense too fucking late to do anything about it, and he barely resists the urge to either groan or slip forward to start beating his head against the coffee table.
Fuck his fucking life.
“You’re still…seeing this person?” His mom asks, and the amount of control he can hear her exerting is almost painful. “Who is-”
“Yuna,” his dad cuts in, voice quiet, “maybe give him a second, yeah?”
Yeah, Shane agrees in his head. Give him a second.
Maybe give him a decade while they’re at it.
(when shane's old fake id falls out of his wallet around his parents, he has to explain that it was to book hotel rooms before he was 21)
(...and then he has to explain why he needed to book those hotel rooms in the first place)
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Bookmarked by Skrifecta
23 Jun 2026
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“Go?” Rozanov repeats, and Shane thinks he manages to nod, thinks he manages to spin some kind of excuse that he knows Rozanov doesn’t really buy, but he needs to go. He needs to get out of here. He needs to find somewhere quiet and calm where he can ride out this panic and painful tightness until he can catch his breath again. He needs-
He needs to go.
“I’m sorry,” he says, turning heel and resisting the urge to just book it right for the front door only because he’d rather not have to explain to Hayden why he returned from a hookup with Boston Lily in men’s clothes that he certainly didn’t leave in.
It’s not until he makes it halfway up the stairs to Rozanov’s bedroom that it occurs to him in a cold rush that it isn’t just anxiety that makes it this hard to breathe.
“No,” he tells himself firmly, white knuckling the bannister and trying to take a deep breath just to prove that he can.
It wheezes.
(how the tuna meltdown is averted through the power of food allergies and anaphylaxis)
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Bookmarked by Skrifecta
23 Jun 2026
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“I just…wanted to know if you’d be interested in trying something. It’s totally okay if you’re not into the idea, obviously.”
Ilya’s ears perked up. He’d had some of the best sex of his life following basically those exact words. He rested his head on Shane’s shoulder, reaching over to take his hand. “Keep talking.”
“Well, we have another week here together, and I was thinking. What if you could, uh. Have sex with me whenever you wanted?” Shane asked quietly, turning his hand over in Ilya’s so they were palm to palm, lacing their fingers together. “And I couldn’t say no? Or I mean, I could say it, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Ilya inhaled sharply and lifted his head from Shane’s shoulder, studying him. He looked tense, but hopeful. Eager. “I would like that,” he enunciated carefully, squeezing Shane’s hand.
Or: during their second summer at the cottage, Shane suggests trying out free use. Ilya is, predictably, all for it.
Bookmarked by Skrifecta
23 Jun 2026
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But it’s true. David Hollander is normal about hockey. He has a life outside it. He goes to work at the Treasury. He goes on long walks. He volunteers at animal shelters. He puzzles. Well—he works on puzzles? Ilya still is not sure how the verbs work there.
The point is: David Hollander built a life outside of hockey that was fulfilling—that remains fulfilling. This, in its roundabout way, and though Ilya could never admit it, saves Ilya’s life.
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or, a treatise on grief, depression, and chronic suicidalityBookmarked by Skrifecta
23 Jun 2026
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She hauls him back to his place – a gorgeous condo that overlooks Montreal and is 70% glass. All the reflecting, soft light makes her dress look like liquid silver. She lets it drop onto the stairs behind her.
As she turns—
She sees his reflection. She sees the face she knows she was never, ever meant to see. His heart isn’t in this. But then he’s glancing up at her, some stranger to a smile on his face, and she knows something she was never, ever meant to know: he will make himself go through with this. He’s going to come up the stairs—he’s already coming up the stairs.
Fuck. She misread this entirely.
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Rose, Sveta, and David on Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov. All set to Noah Kahan's "The Great Divide."
Bookmarked by Skrifecta
23 Jun 2026