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  1. Public Bookmark 72

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    Two weeks trapped in Frank Castle’s hideout turns survival into something stranger. Bodies remember what minds refuse, and in the dark, instinct is louder than mercy.

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    10 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “What is there to talk about?”

    “What’s there to talk about?!” Hollander scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re playing for my fucking team!”

    “I know.”

    “Why did you have to go and get traded?! You realise we’re going to have to see each other every day from now on, and play together, and-”

    “Yes,” Ilya interrupted. He didn’t want to know how long Hollander’s list was. “I know.”

    Hollander took a deep breath. “Okay, listen,” he said. “Just so we’re clear - we don’t know each other outside of playing against each other, right?”

    “Right.”

    “And we can’t- can’t hook up anymore.”

    ~

    OR: Ilya gets traded to Montreal in October 2014. He's lonely, and angry, and he misses Boston. He doesn't know if it helps that Hollander is there or not.

    title from Buckle by Florence and the Machine

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    17 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya's on a hotel roof in the middle of the night. The draft is tomorrow, and he can't sleep.

    That's when Shane Hollander appears, but he's somehow thirty-five years old, and acting very friendly... and he's wearing glasses. This must be a dream — mustn't it?

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    17 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane Hollander was perfect; the perfect son, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect friend. He had spent years refining perfection, making sure he was the picture of it. It was second nature after all these years; a suit that didn’t quite fit, but that he’d gotten used to.
    Enter Ilya Rozanov.

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    17 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane can’t look at him. He can’t really look at anyone but he manages to lift his head and stare right back into Troy’s glistening eyes.

    “I never had that advantage, Troy. I never got to take it out on anyone, for any of it. All the times I got on that ice to play some hockey and some… fuckwit idiot like Kent, or whoever was calling me slurs— whether they were gay ones or racist ones… I couldn’t just hurl them back and call it a day like you did.”

    He swallows hard. He thinks he might be sick a little bit in his mouth.

    “You know how fucking lucky you are? To have gotten away with it? They love you, Barrett. This team loves you! You’re fucking celebrated because you overcame this big, terrible thing but for me it’s—”

    He thinks about his mom in that very split second. His beautiful, wonderful mom who’d coached him his entire life on how to be polite, how to be well behaved. How to answer to teachers the right way, to coaches, to cops to the press to the general public to his fucking teammates—

    He looks away. The fight suddenly drains right out of him and he goes back to his bag.

    or: shane decides to confront troy if no one else will

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    17 May 2026