Connor Storrie + his septum ring for @hotelstares

+1 a hint of the ring in Heated Rivalry

It feels like a uniquely American capitalist take to assume these traditions will make you completely self sufficient. You need a lot of people, a lot of time, a lot of knowledge across a lot of subjects, and a lot of luck to provide for everyone's nutritional needs.

So should you even bother trying to be more self sufficient with your food? I argue yes. Foraging and gardening are fun and will teach you so much about many things. They are deeply rewarding activities that can supplement your diet. There are herbs I haven't bought in years because I grow my own. There are dishes I can only make with foraged ingredients because I can't get them in stores.

Ghost Dad: WE LITERALLY CHANGED OUR VOWS BECAUSE WE DIDN'T LIKE "TILL DEATH DO US PART"

"Is Shane okay?" Was Yuna's first question.

"Yes," David was quick to reassure her. "He's fine. He's great."

"David," Yuna said worriedly, hand on his bicep. "Is Shane okay?"

"He really is. I promise, sweetheart. I would tell you if he wasn't," David promised her because he would. "But I - he was - he's probably going to be headed over here soon."

"Why?" Yuna started to get more worried, despite her husband's reassurances. "David, what happened? Did you two fight?"

David did interrupt his silent retreat but Yuna couldn't imagine Shane getting into a fight with his father over that.

"No," David caught her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then please don't ask. I saw something I shouldn't have and I - I want it to be Shane's choice if he tells us. I promise you he's safe. We didn't fight. He's - he might be upset with me, but he's okay."

Yuna searched his face for another moment before she slowly nodded.

She had an idea of what David might have seen.

She had considered that Shane's 'silent retreat' might not be the complete truth. She also recognized how upset her husband was at unintentionally learning something about their boy that he wasn't ready to share.

"Okay," Yuna pulled him in for a hug. "I'll make some tea."

"I feel so horrible."

"Shane loves you, he'll understand," Yuna said.

"I hope so," David pulled back. "I can make the tea. Shane will probably want some if he comes over."

He used to make Shane hot chocolate after nightmares, or doctor visits, or difficult practices. When he was a teenager, he started asking for tea instead.

Yuna, sensing David needed something to do, said, "use the new one my aunt sent us. It takes a little longer but I think Shane will like it."

~*~*~

"So, what did you see," Yuna asked her husband as they watched their son and his boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov, drive away.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to ask," David smiled.

"Hush you," Yuna glared. "Like you wouldn't be curious. Unless, god, did you walk in on-"

"No," David stopped her. "They were just walking up from the dock. I would have left but when I noticed it was Rozanov - or Ilya, I mean - I was just frozen there."

"Then how did you know they were, you know, together?"

"Well they kissed on the porch," David winced. "And Ilya..."

"Ilya what?"

"He, uh, had his hand on Shane's…bottom."

Yuna and David stared at each other for a few seconds before Yuna couldn't take it anymore, smile spreading across her face and burst out laughing, hand gripping her husband’s shirt to hold herself up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Yuna laughed out.

"Yuna!" David admonished but he was laughing too. He reached out to steady her. "It's not funny!"

"When you put it that - that way!" Yuna tried to gather herself. "Ilya Rozanov. Ilya Rozanov. I can't believe it."

"He's a sweet kid," David was still smiling, thinking about Ilya standing awkwardly by his son, happily eating pasta, saying he'd leave the team that drafted him for their Shane.

Yuna softened. "He really is. He looks so much younger in person."

Instead, it’s Yuna. But that’s not what catches his attention - it’s the group chat he’s been added to.

Hollander Family Chat Jane's mama: Hi Lily! Jane: Mom! Lily can’t have this chat name on her phone. Jane’s mama: Sorry, honey! I’ll fix it. Jane’s mama changed the group name to: Family ❤️ Family ❤️ Jane: That’s better. Just make sure her name is Lily in your phones. Jane’s papa: Done and done, kiddo! Jane: Thank you. Jane’s mama: Anyway, Lily, do you have thanksgiving weekend plans? Because I noticed you and Jane are both free that weekend and I thought…

Ilya put his phone down as Yuna detailed their thanksgiving plans. He could not tear up in the Bear's locker room.

He never imagined himself having this, never let himself consider it. Being in a family group chat. Having a family. He was pretty sure he buried that dream with his mama.

But the Hollanders welcomed him so comfortably. Even after he caused their son to lie to them. Even after all the things he’d done. They never even wanted an apology, would probably be confused if he gave one.

He’s afraid if he moves wrong it’ll all disappear.

But he has to respond because he wants to spend with holiday with them so much.

And the texts don’t stop there.

Family ❤️ Jane’s mama: Great game today, Lily! What a comeback. Lily: You watched? Jane’s mama: Of course! We watch all your and Shane’s games. Jane: Jane. Delete that text. Jane’s papa: And if we miss it, I have them on the recorder. Lily: Thank you.

~*~*~

Family ❤️ Jane’s papa: Lily, do you have any allergies? Lily: Russians do not get allergies. Jane: Yes they do and no, dad, Lily does not. Jane: Also, don’t mention being Russian.

~*~*~

Family ❤️ Jane’s mama: Lily, could I get the forwarding information for your agent? Jane got a proposal that I think will work out perfectly for you. Jane: Please call about this. Lily: Not only hockey players get proposals maybe I am famous model Jane. Lily. Jane’s papa: You could definitely be a model, kiddo! Lily: Thank you 🥰 Jane why are you unsupportive of your girlfriend. Jane: Boyfriend. Jane’s papa: Now I’m confused.

~*~*~

Family ❤️ Jane’s mama: I can’t believe the ref let Adams get away with that hit! Jane’s papa: . . .

Ilya gripped the phone waiting for David’s response. The metros had been obliterated 1-5 and Shane, fresh off a bruised wrist, didn’t play his best.

Jane’s papa: How’s your wrist, son? Jane: It’s fine. Jane’s papa: Lots of ice and elevation! You played great! Jane: I didn’t. Jane’s papa: You’ll get them next time!

Ilya breathed out, shaking his head. Shane didn’t know how lucky he was. And Ilya was so grateful he didn’t.

Eventually, Ilya even began initiating the conversation.

Family ❤️ Lily: Are you guys coming to MTL / BOS game today? Jane's mama: We are! Jane's papa: I know we can't wear any Boston merch, but we'll be rooting for you! Jane: Dad! Jane's papa: We'll be rooting for both of you! Jane: You can't root for both of us. Jane's mama: No comment. . . . Lily: I was wondering if you all wanted to come to my house after? Lily: After the game, I mean Lily: Only if you want Lily: Or don't have other plans Jane's mama: We would love too! Jane's papa: Need us to pick up anything before we come over? Lily: No, thank you. I have things to make dinner. I will send address. Lily: Thank you. Jane's papa: Of course! Have fun tonight, girls! Jane's mama: Play hard! Love you both. Jane's papa emphasized this message

Ilya could not stop smiling as he got all the ingredients together to make pelmeni. He separated the dough and the meats and sauce into separate little containers so it would be easier to make once the Hollanders arrived after the game.

He imagined doing this for years to come. Maybe when he and Shane had their own home together, making food for his in-laws, for their friends and teammates. Maybe even for their children.

His brother does.

His brother calls him, forgetting that Ilya went no-contact with him. Ilya's silent on the phone, listening to Alexei's wife softly explain it to him and take the phone.

He texts Ilya, asking when where he is. Asking who he's playing next game.

Ilya's been retired for over 20 years.

He knows Shane wants to say something, but he never does. He's just quietly supportive.

One day, it's Alexei's wife that calls him. She apologizes for calling. She tells him Alexei doesn't remember her anymore. Or their daughter. He only asks about Ilya and their parents. She offers to delete Ilya's number from his phone.

Ilya declines.

After that, he starts answering the phone. And talking.

Alexei asks where he is. Ilya tells him he's coming home soon. That seems to make Alexei happy.

Alexei asks who Ilya is playing. Ilya says Montreal. Alexei tells him to win or papa will be angry.

Alexei tells him mama made him soup. Ilya tells him that was his daughter. Alexei laughs, he doesn't have a daughter.

He doesn't remember how cruel he was to Ilya. He doesn't remember how much he loved drugs and drinking.

He was so much like Ilya's Alexei, before he started taking after their father. Before he let his anger at their mother consume him. Before he caught Ilya and Sasha and allowed his fear for his little brother to turn into anger and disgust.

One day Ilya offers his wife, Natalia, to have them visit. Their daughter has visited more than once, even stayed with them for a summer after high school. His and Shane's kids tried to teach her hockey.

Natalia regretfully tells him Alexei is not well enough to travel.

Ilya can't travel to them, not while he's married to Shane.

But their phone calls are enough.

About once a week, he gets to speak to a version of his brother than he had dearly missed. He gets to talk about his mama like she's still live, not dead for over 50 years. He gets to talk about the rink he and Alexei used to play hockey at. To talk about the stray cat he and Alexei once hid in their bedroom for a week.

He finds himself looking forward to the phone calls.

ANYWAY. Kevin is up on the rooftop and his lighter isn’t working, and out comes some hottish blond guy who starts smoking a cigarette looking over the barrier. Kevin contemplates asking blond guy for a light, but like, what if this guy is up here to off himself? He certainly looks capable, with the way he’s brooding (getting hotter every minute) and puffing that cigarette. But before Kevin can decide out comes another guy, this one with black hair, and this guy is more Kevin’s type so he’s definitely hot, and him and blondie start talking, and Kevin thinks that he better reveal himself now because like, it’ll be awkward if they see him staring, but black hair dude is obviously drunk and Kevin ALWAYS gets roped into taking care of the drunk friend— “SO WHAT THEN?” the black haired guy yells and Kevin goes eeek okay this is a couple queens having a fight probably two of the waiters from the reception Kevin will just make his exit quietly he does not need to get in the middle he’s got his own situationship blowing up his phone that he left in his violin case but then when blondie turns fully he sees that they’re in real formal wear, not waiter garb and not the shitty Sears tux Kevin wears for gigs. So these queens are having a spat, and Kevin realizes that they HAVE to be players, and now he’s frozen to the spot. “I go home in three days,” blondie says, and Kevin realizes he’s Eastern European, thinks that’s hot, but then wonders if that’s problematic to think, but then black hair hottie is holding out a hand for a handshake and Kevin almost laughs like okay gay, but OMG NOW THEY’RE KISSING and Kevin really needs new glasses, was that tongue omg— “we’re both in tuxedos out in public!” Aww black haired hottie’s voice cracked this is sad they must be like, lower level players or whatever, just glad to be here, struggling with being gay, maybe Kevin should help them—

“Hollander. See you next season.”

Hollander. Hollander. Kevin had been barely listening but isn’t that the guy they announced for one of the awards. Shit— are these queens a big deal?

So later, Kevin goes on Reddit and does a deep dive about Shane Hollander, Canadian phenom, Rookie of the Year, finding one forum where he poses the question. “Is Shane Hollander gay? I think I saw him with some guy!”

And two years later (no phone company, Kevin finally landed a full time orchestra job in LA) he gets ONE lone answer on otherwise deserted forum:

Truncated text of tweet from MrPitBull, Mar 11, 2026:

She kept finding women in laboratory photographs from the 1800s. Then she read the published papers—and every single woman had vanished. Someone had erased them from history.

Yale University, 1969.

Margaret Rossiter was a graduate student studying the history of science. She was one of very few women in her program.

Every Friday afternoon, students and faculty gathered for beers and informal conversation. One week, Margaret asked a simple question: "Were there ever any women scientists?"

The faculty answered firmly: No.

Someone mentioned Marie Curie. The group dismissed it—her husband Pierre really deserved the credit.

Margaret didn't argue. But she also didn't believe them.

So she started looking.

She found a reference book called "American Men of Science"—essentially a Who's Who of scientific achievement. Despite the title, she was shocked to discover it contained entries about women. Botanists trained at Wellesley. Geologists from Vermont.

There were names. There were credentials. There were careers.

The professors had been wrong.

But Margaret's discovery was just the beginning. Because as she dug deeper into archives across the country, she found something far more disturbing.

Photograph after photograph showed women standing at laboratory benches, working with equipment, listed on research teams.

But when she read the published papers, the award citations, the official histories—those same women had disappeared. Their names were missing. Their contributions erased.

It wasn't random. It was systematic.

Women who designed experiments watched male colleagues publish results without giving them credit. Women whose discoveries were assigned to supervisors. Women listed in acknowledgments instead of as authors. Women passed over for awards that went to male collaborators who contributed far less.

Margaret realized she was witnessing a pattern that stretched across centuries.

Women had always been present in science. The record had simply pushed them aside.

She needed a name for what she was documenting.

In the early 1990s, she found it in the work of Matilda Joslyn Gage—a 19th-century suffragist who had written about this exact phenomenon in 1870.

In 1993, Margaret published a paper formally naming it: The Matilda Effect.

The term captured something that had been hidden in plain sight for generations. Once you knew the term, you saw it everywhere.

Her dissertation became a lifelong mission.

For more than 30 years, Margaret researched and wrote her landmark three-volume series: Women Scientists in America. She examined letters, institutional policies, individual careers. She gathered undeniable evidence that women in science had been consistently under-credited and structurally excluded.

Her work faced resistance. Many dismissed women's history as political rather than academic. Others insisted she was exaggerating.

Margaret didn't argue emotionally. She presented data. Documented cases. Patterns repeated across decades and institutions.

Eventually, the evidence became undeniable.

Her research helped restore recognition to scientists who had been erased:

Rosalind Franklin, whose X-ray work revealed DNA's structure—credit went to Watson and Crick.

Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission—omitted from the Nobel Prize.

Nettie Stevens, who discovered sex chromosomes—received little credit.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who discovered stars are made of hydrogen—initially dismissed.

And countless others whose names had nearly vanished.

Margaret changed the narrative. Science was no longer just the story of solitary male geniuses. It became a story of collaboration that included women who had been written out.