Riddle_Master_101



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    In 2003, Shane Hollander is assigned a PenPal, and gains a friend. A friend who smokes, calls him boring, and gives him ridiculous nicknames.

    Across the world, Ilya Rozanov practices his English with a curious Canadian boy whose name he can't fucking remember.

    Or, before they were Canada's Shane Hollander and Russia's Ilya Rozanov, they were Cat and Elijah. Shane has no reason to suspect his childhood PenPal is his hockey rival, and Ilya has never even considered that the man he's falling for is also the boy he already fell in love with through letters and postcards.

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    08 Aug 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    This one looks long but it will fly by

    October 2003

    Dear Penpal,

    You ask a lot of questions. You are curious cat, or whatever phrase is.

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    “Ah.”

    “‘Ah’,” Ilya repeats, giving him a look before he looks back to the tidily stacked frozen mouse packages in the freezer and makes a face as a little badly-hidden shudder moves through him. “Why the fuck do you have mice in your freezer, Shane? You are doing serial killer shit now? This is why you have cottage in the middle of nowhere? For serial killer things?”

    “It’s for Spaghetti,” Shane says.

    Ilya gives him an absolutely horrified look at that and turns a little green, which makes him remember that Spaghetti isn’t just his snake's name.

    “Not food!” He rushes to explain. “Not food spaghetti! Snake Spaghetti!”

    “What the fuck are you even saying right now,” Ilya says, looking honestly a little concerned that Shane might have something going wrong in his head.

    (Distancing himself from almost twenty years of owning a snake, Shane can indeed see why this situation might be a little alarming for someone on the outside looking in.)

    (It also clues him in to the fact that maybe it’s not just Spaghetti who should have gotten a little adjustment period.)

    (in which i give shane allergies AND a snake)

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    28 Jul 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    He thinks Spaghetti might be his best friend, something he said to his parents that made them look a little sad in a way he didn’t like, so he hasn’t said it again.

    He still feels like it, though.

    The kids at school don’t like hearing about his snake, but they don’t really like a lot of things Shane likes to talk about, so that’s okay.

    Spaghetti likes hearing him talk.

    That’s enough for him.

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    Shane grabbed a teaspoon from the drawer next to him and dipped it into the sauce, turning to face Ilya with his hand cupped underneath it to catch the drips. As he moved around the island, Ilya’s pulse picked up again and his brain smashed together a montage of nights like this from some imagined future. Shane cooking for him in their kitchen, offering his creation up for Ilya’s judgement. Maybe there would be a nice playlist on. Maybe the pasta would be actual pasta, not chickpea. Maybe they’d be cooking for more than just the two of them. Christ.

    Balancing on the cusp of a something new, Ilya boards a flight to Shane's cottage for two weeks.

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    26 Jul 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Did you know then? he wanted to ask himself. Was there something in Ilya on that first day that had said yes, this is it? He wanted to tell himself to look at the freckles on that boy more closely, to map them, because one day he’d be staring down at that man as he lay on his chest, and he’d wonder whether there were more than there used to be. Commit it all to memory, he wanted to plead, because many years from now, the boy who shakes your hand twice will sit on a dock and tell you that he doesn’t want you to smoke anymore, which really means that he loves you. You will meet his mother and talk about marriage, you will tell him that you want children, and you will plan to move countries because the thought of being apart from him is too catastrophic to bear.

    Look at him, Ilya. Really look at him. Forget Russia, forget America, forget fame and fortune – fuck it all, forget hockey for a second. Put the cigarette out, and kick the small rock out from under the fire exit door so that it can close behind you.

    Just look at him.

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    Ilya asks the obligatory relationship question: "would you still love me if i was a worm?"
    Shane gets so stressed that he can't sleep.

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    20 Jul 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Ilya propped himself up on his elbows. “Shane. It is joke.”

    “I know it’s a joke.”

    “Then why you look like you are planning funeral.”

    “Because what if I mess it up?”

    Ilya blinked. “Mess what up.”

    “If you did turn into a worm. Hypothetically. What if I didn’t take care of you properly? What if I forgot to mist the terrarium? What if you dried out? Do worms dry out? They probably dry out.”

    Ilya stared at him.

    Shane kept going, words tumbling faster. “And what if I accidentally stepped on you? Or what if you escaped and I couldn’t find you? I mean, this is a cottage, there are cracks everywhere—”

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    "So, me and him, we were kind of on and off? For a long time? Just in a casual way. And not while I was dating you, obviously."

    "Obviously," she agrees like he didn't even need to say it.

    "Yeah. But, uh, after you and I split, he and I started talking again. Like, properly talking. And it. It kinda seemed like we were gonna try again?"

    "Still in a casual way?" Rose asks.

    "Uh. Turns out that was sort of open to interpretation."

     

    AKA Shane didn't get injured in Montreal

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    12 Jul 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    "Okay. Shit. Must've been bad."

    Ilya nods.

    "Did you mean it?"

    "No. I don't know. I don't think so." Ilya has to rub his nose again. "Big fight, shitty English. Don't know what the fuck I was even try to say so fuck, maybe. Doesn't matter."

    "It doesn't?"

    Ilya slants a look at him and picks up his glass by the rim, lets it dangle between his fingertips. "I start fucking around here, ranting like idiot, waving hands around. This glass, very slippery. Flies in your face, breaks everywhere. You are all cut up, blood, screaming. I say oh shit, my bad. Did not mean to, big accident. You stop bleeding now? Is fixed?"

    Marleau hisses through his teeth. "I get it."