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  1. Rec *

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    For a moment, nothing happens. Then, about thirty seconds later, Ilya blinks once, then again, his expression tightening as confusion slowly takes over, trying to make sense of something that’s supposed to be impossible. Shane immediately knows that he’s freaking out.

    You’re freaking out right now, aren’t you? Please don’t freak out. Because if you freak out, then I’m going to freak out.

    “What the fuck?” Ilya yells, as he jerks back like he’s been burned, his hand ripping away from Shane’s ankle. His irises dart left to right crazily, locked in on Shane’s face as he searches for something. Shane stays silent. “What the fuck was that?”

    OR: Shane and Ilya develop telepathy while being in a situationship. It goes as well as you’d expect.

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    19 Jun 2026

  2. Rec 11

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    18 Jun 2026

  3. Rec *

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    “Can you believe it? How the hell did he end up bagging her?” 

    Ilya stared, brain not comprehending what his body already seemed to, that Hollander was dating-

    “Rose fuckin’ Landry! How does the lamest guy in the League-”

    He knew that smile. He thought it was for him, just for him. But it wasn't. 

    “No,” he whispered. His stomach spasmed. 

    “You good, Roz?”

    Why would he- How could he- 

    They were holding hands…

    “Rozanov? What the fuck?”

    He jumped up from the table and stumbled for the front door, just barely making it through before the first mass of petals came up. He heaved as he ran, trying desperately to get away from the pavement, somewhere he could hide what was happening. 

    Unfortunately, his teammates had followed, because of course they would. He saw a photo of Shane Hollander holding hands with a movie star and promptly threw up.

    Who wouldn't be curious?

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    17 Jun 2026

  4. Rec 30

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    The advert he’d seen online the month before had seemed too good to be true; between his parents and his teammates asking when he’d settle down, Shane was tired. Tired of the constant match making, even as well intended as it was and tired of feeling like even this private aspect of his life was something performative; like there was nothing to his existence that was just for him.

    He’d wanted an easy out, and Google had had the answers.

    Utmost discretion. Blonde. Green eyes. Passable English.

    After hours of research vetting the agency he’d selected, Shane had wired over the funds and crossed his fingers before immediately stress cleaning his already pristine house.

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    16 Jun 2026

  5. Rec 43

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    “Oh my.”

    She can’t help it. There’s Shane, her baby, only he looks like a baby. Tousled hair, one hand rubbing sleepily at his face, he looks like he’s eight years old again. His other hand is hidden from her, held out at an awkward angle around the corner of the kitchen.

    “Uhm. Mom, I found a boy in my room?” Shane says, clearly confused. “I think we’re friends, but- Are we having a sleepover? I never had a sleepover before, but-”

    “Ah, no. Is not true-” comes a soft voice from around the corner. “Tell them-”

    “They’re not gonna yell at you.” Shane grumps. “You tell them.”

    Series
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    Words:
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    16 Jun 2026