Tizniz

Hello & welcome!

What to know about me:

My name is Tanis

My pronouns are she/her

Tizniz over on AO3

I live in BC, Canada

I'm pansexual & demisexual

I'm 32 years young

Buddie & Hollanov are my main loves

18+ only, please and thank you

If you're not here to have a good time, please carry on

Text posts are ragged ‘tanis rambles’, art is tagged ‘tanis doodles’, and asks are tagged ‘tanis answers’ if you want to ignore them

(photos that really don’t show how bad it is, the ash coating my car after a couple hours, and ash dancing in the air)

Brushing a hand across the sheets, Ilya finds coolness. Meaning Shane has been up for a while. It’s then, through the crack in the door, that the smell of warm sugar reaches Ilya’s nose.

Which makes absolutely no sense.

Climbing out of bed and tugging on a pair of sweats, Ilya makes his way through the house until he reaches the dim kitchen, finding his missing husband standing at the sink washing some dishes. On the counter is a cooling rack with cookies sitting on them. A quick glance at the oven shows another batch slowly turning into golden perfection.

Shane has definitely been doing better this summer with his eating, especially with his departure from Montreal, but Ilya is still very surprised to find him baking cookies at almost two in the morning.

This is definitely not normal for Shane and definitely a sign of anxiety.

Crossing the space between them, Ilya wraps his arms around Shane, making him jump slightly in surprise before easing back against Ilya’s chest.

“Did I wake you?” Shane questions, rinsing the bowl and putting it onto the drying rack. “Sorry.”

“Is okay. Smells good.” Ilya hums, kissing Shane’s shoulder. “But why you baking?”

“…because.”

“Because why, kotenok? What are you up worrying about?”

“What if they don’t like me?” Shane whispers, and it’s only their close proximity that allows Ilya to hear him.

“The Centaurs?” Ilya confirms; apart from an ambush visit by Harris and Troy (more the former than the latter), Shane hasn’t actually met the team yet. Tomorrow, or today with what time it is, they’re going to Bood’s for a welcome barbecue. Ilya has been excited, ready to show off the man he’s been talking about for far too long. And for Shane to experience what a team should be like.

“Yeah.” Shane fiddle with a wooden spoon, already clean. Ilya takes it gently from his hands and places it with the other clean dishes. Then he turns Shane around by his hips, brown eyes already lowered to avoid meeting Ilya’s.

“Shane.” He waits until his husband bravely meets his gaze. “You do not need to worry.”

“How can you say that?” Shane asks with an adorable twist of his mouth. “They might hate me.”

Ilya shakes his head, “Spoiler alert: they already love you.”

“I hate that Wyatt taught you that saying.”

“Hazy says my English needed to be expanded.”

“I’m supposed to be the nerd in this relationship.”

“We can share title.” Ilya kisses Shane, “You do not need to make cookies to win over team. They already know and love you.”

Shane opens his mouth, no doubt ready to protest but the timer goes off, prompting him to snap his mouth shut.

Ilya sighs and steps back, dropping his hold from his husband so he can go take the cookies out of the oven. There is no way they’ll be able to continue unless Shane does. He’ll be worried about burning the cookies.

Once the baked goods are safely transferred and the last batch has been placed into the oven with a new timer set, Ilya tugs Shane back into him, wrapping an arm firmly around his husband.

“I do not mean they know you as Shane Hollander, great hockey player,” He says like they haven’t been interrupted, “even though they do.”

As expected, Shane blushes at the compliment. Ilya knows Shane knows he’s a fantastic player, but his husband is so bashful when it comes to receiving compliments.

“They know you as Shane, my boyfriend turn fiancé turn husband.” Ilya states, voice soft and fond. “I have talked about you long before they knew who you were, Shane. And they love you, because I love you.”

“Ilya…”

“And when they finally actually meet you, they will be relieved. Because they think I will no longer talk nonstop about you.”

“They’re gonna realize real quick that isn’t happening.”

“Yes.” Ilya grins, “Now I will talk even more about you!”

It earns him a laugh and a kiss from his husband, so Ilya considers that a win.

“But…” Ilya glances at the cookies, “They will not complain about these. They do smell very good, sweetheart.”

Shane’s freckles turn a pretty dusty rose again, “You think so?”

“Yes. But I must taste test. Captain duty. Make sure good enough for team.”

Shane laughs, louder and freer this time, as he reaches for a cookie and feeds it to Ilya.

They pass the inspection.

sometimes, eating can mean making cookies at 9:30pm so you actually consume something.

sometimes, eating can mean you just have something so the guilt doesn’t tear you apart.

what matters is that you did eat something.

That’s the only warning Ilya gets before a white medical looking mask is thrown at him. His quick instincts are the only thing to prevent it from hitting him in the face.

“Wear that if you go outside for the next few days.” Shane says it so casually as he continues on his path towards the kitchen, oblivious to the expression of bewilderment that Ilya is currently sending him.

“Are you telling me my breath stinks this bad?” Ilya asks, turning the mask over in his hands. N-95 is stamped on it but it does nothing to alleviate the confusion circling Ilya’s mind.

“No,” Shane scoffs from by the fridge. But he still doesn’t over any explanation.

Rolling his eyes, Ilya pulls his feet up onto the couch so he can jump over the back, ignoring the noise of complaint from his boyfriend. Ilya waves the mask at Shane, “What is this?”

“A mask.”

“And you call me an asshole.” Ilya mutters, dropping the item onto the counter and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know it is a mask, Shane. What I don’t know is why you threw it at me and demanded I wear it.”

“I didn’t demand.”

“Shane!”

“It’s fire season.” Shane shrugs, sipping his juice with nonchalance that is both incredibly arteries and incredibly frustrating.

“Not everyone grew up in woods in Canada, Shane. You need to explain.” Ilya should get an award for his patience towards the love of his life. Truly.

Shane gestures at the bay of windows in the cabin and Ilya’s eyes following, looking outside. “Those aren’t grey weather clouds, Ilya. That’s smoke.”

Ilya’s mouth drops, “What?”

He had woken up this morning and saw the overcast sky and thought it was simply a summer storm trying to make its way over. The smell of campfire he’d gotten a whiff of earlier hadn’t been anything suspicious because Canadian’s are notorious for campfires. Nevermind that Shane had no neighbours nearby for there to be anything to smell.

“Yeah. They said air quality is taking a turn for the worse, so best to wear a mask when you’re outside. Also, don’t open any windows or doors for too long. I’ve got good air purifiers in here so we should be okay.”

Shane sounds so calm when he says that. Ilya gapes at him.

“What?” Shane asks, shifting from one foot to the other. “It’s normal to have air purifiers!”

“The world is on fire and you are so calm!”

“Oh,” Shane huffs out a soft laugh, “Canada gets bad wildfires every summer. We got lucky last year — the fires started after you left to go back to Boston. They’re nasty this year though.”

“We are surrounded by trees!”

Shane shakes his head at Ilya’s outburst, “None are near us. I check the fire map daily. And we’d get a notification on our phones if we had to evacuate.”

Ilya actually thinks he’s going to pass out.

“Why the fuck do you people like living out here?!”

Shane smiles and walks over to Ilya, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, “Canadians aren’t so weak now, are they?”