KatChillOut



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    Both of them are there the next time Shane wakes up about an hour later, and this time he opens his eyes, rasps Mom?

    The room fills quickly, a flurry of nurses coming to check vitals and adjust his IV, the doctor stepping in to conduct all of the mandatory concussion protocol. Shane grunts and groans every time he has to move his sore body but otherwise complies as he always does, sitting through the basic questions and the light shining in his eyes. He’s up just long enough to finish those and to get something in him to eat, and just after Yuna and David both manage to sneak in tearful, relieved hugs, he’s slipping back into sleep once again. 

    Normal, they keep saying. This is all perfectly normal.

    But there’s something, Yuna thinks—something here that she’s missing. 

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    21 Feb 2026

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    Ilya Rozanov: 
    Scott Hunter is one million years old. You are hot and seem nice. If you want a hockey player, we will find you one that is not terrible. Do you like dark-hair? There are a lot of brunettes. If you want one with muscles, there are also options.

    OR

    shane and ilya try to stage a textual intervention for kip. it goes.

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    518
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    20 Feb 2026

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    Ilya and Shane have a fight that leaves teeth marks.
    Ilya flies to Florida for a game against Vancouver with his heart in pieces… and then the universe decides to add turbulence, hospitals, and a truly unhinged amount of emotional damage on top.

    Shane shows up anyway. Feelings get said out loud.
    And yes—Quinn Hughes is there, staring into the middle distance like he’s buffering… because what if the “Quinn sees ghosts” jokes are, unfortunately, canon?

    A story about fear, forgiveness, being seen, and choosing each other where the whole world can’t look away.

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    20 Feb 2026

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    20 Feb 2026

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    The picture is leaked on a random fucking Tuesday in November, months after Ilya was last in Montreal.

    Grainy and dark, enhanced digitally to shit but still just recognisable enough; Shane Hollander smiling dopily as a broad-shouldered man in a dark hoodie has him pushed up against a red brick wall, one knee lifted to hook around the back of a thigh, a large hand possessively holding it in place as the hooded figure has his face hidden in the crook of Hollander’s neck — presumably kissing him there, intimately.

    Ilya knows his team is good, and they do the best they can.

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    20 Feb 2026

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