“is there anything so undoing as a daughter”

and when shane finally does get a girlfriend when they're like eighteen, ilya seduces and fucks her. he thinks about shane the entire time and is absolutely furious with himself about it. he casually tells shane about it like a week later because as angry as he is at himself for doing something so terrible, he's equally angry at shane for making him feel this way and it makes him want to be cruel.

hang it in the louvre

I might translate this article later today. This one was the most complete one, even in Italian news it's not talked about that much.

@yearnalisms requested to bring this beautiful text post by @honeyybrii to gif form! all inspo credit to op of the text post! 💜 this tag is especially a good sum up of the set:

not because he's a baby a la classic man cold

but because he will AGGRESSIVELY try to pretend he is not sick

he is trying to gaslight others but ALSO himself

he has a gold medal immune system thank you he did NOT get taken down by ill pikeling spreading Elementary School Plague to him

not happening

as an itty bitty he lied so he wouldn't have to skip hockey, and that has NOT changed as an adult

his true toxic trait is that he WILL be typhoid mary in that locker room if it means he doesn't have to stay home and miss playing

like. no one else on the team understands Hollander Illness Behavior yet, so they're teasing ilya about being overprotective because shane is SO underplaying it and meanwhile ilya is just, "no, i am so fucking serious. get a medic and then call an ambulance."

and shane who is barely on this realm of existence and about 0.2 seconds from having Involuntary Floor Time is just, "don't worry :) i'll just take an advil or something :)"

"okay," shane says, after their plan has taken crude shape. the details will come later, after they put their phones down. "okay," he repeats, firmer. then soft again, "I'll see you soon."

ilya feels his strings get cut. he leans against a wall. "see you soon, shane."

svetlana is back in the living room when ilya returns. she whips around on the couch, phone in hand, says, "what the fuck did scott hunter do when I left the room? for five minutes?"

it's a rhetorical question. the tv broadcast has—for now—moved onto highlights of the actual game, but she has her social media open on her phone. ilya makes a vague, loose gesture with his shoulder. "kissed his pretty boyfriend on the ice."

she swears quietly, engrossed again in her feed. "unbelievable. it's your fault I missed it, ilya. your niece's gift is in your suitcase," she adds distractedly. it is. the whale plushie sitting atop the stack of kids' novels sitting atop his serviceably folded clothes. not as neat as hollander's always are. ilya runs his thumb over the edge of his phone case.

"svetlana."

"mm."

"I will not be going to russia."

she breaks from her phone. frowns at him. "what do you mean?"

"I have to be somewhere else."

"where?"

"ottawa."

blinking green eyes. svetlana knows him better than anyone on this planet. he sees her gears turning. there is nothing on the surface of his life that would take him to a place like ottawa, nothing even on the deeper layers svetlana has almost exclusive access to. but there are few things about him that she is completely unaware of. what he has refused to lay bare for her she's deduced the shape of anyway, purely from the nature of his refusals. he sees her eyes flick to the tv. an ad for beer is playing. that's not what she's thinking of.

"is it for a person."

she says more than asks it. either way ilya responds, "yes."

"jane."

"yes."

she lifts her chin, slowly. "montreal jane who is from ottawa." they look at each other, ilya doesn't speak. eventually she shakes her head. "shane hollander, ilya? really?"