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

I'm not sure if I wanna post a Buddie or Hollanov story this weekend...I've got something for both. so. I'm gonna share a bit of each. let me know which one I should post.

Buddie

“No. Nothing.” Buck hums, “Well the doctor did say it’d take a while.” “I know.” “But you want it better already.” Buck comments with a smile, resting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “It’ll get there.” “I know.” Eddie repeats, hooking his foot around Buck’s ankle, “And you probably want it healed so you can go home, huh?” “What? No.” Buck blinks rapidly, “I want it better so you’re better.” “Yeah, but—” Eddie cuts himself off with a huff, “Sorry. I…you know I love having you here. And I appreciate you being here to help out.” The smile is back on Buck’s face, “I do.” “I’m sorry for being a shit patient.” “I’m worse.” Buck shrugs, “It’s only fair we trade off.”

Hollanov

“It is not.” Ilya says when Shane doesn’t reply. “And you cannot say it is.” Shane sticks his bottom lip out, “I don’t like you knowing what I’m thinking.” Ilya chuckles and leans in, pecking Shane on the lips, and when Shane chases after for another kiss, Ilya kisses him once again. “I missed this.” Shane mumbles, briefly forgetting everything else going on, tilting his chin forward to steal another kiss. Ilya hums, peppering a few more kisses to Shane’s lips. “Me too.” “I’m sorry.”

np tagging @actualalligator, @redrosydiaz, @princessfbi (even though she just posted a story that looks wonderful because it's got Buck with a fever), @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @allisonrw96, @eddiecompetitiondiaz, and anyone else who wants to!

Buck wants everyone to think he’s still doing good because he cannot be a further burden. Because he should be able to do this on his own. Even if he’s rapidly realizing that he actually can’t and he does need someone. In the end, Buck calls Eddie.

When Buck swings the door open twenty minutes later, Eddie stands there and stares at Buck, eyes narrowing a fraction as he studies him.

Buck knows without anything being said that Eddie has figured him out. He’s waiting for the verbal confirmation but Eddie never says anything. He just steps into the house around Buck, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes.

“You didn’t make those lemon cookies without me, right? You talked them up so much at the store the other day…”

They’d gone grocery shopping together a couple days back and Buck had indeed talked in detail about this recipe for lemon cookies he wanted to make for Eddie specifically. Not that he mentioned that last part — he just said they sounded really good. Eddie had been nearly drooling at the store, more than ready to try them.

Buck releases another breath of relief as he closes the door, turning and following Eddie into the kitchen. “No. Not yet.”

“Great,” Eddie is already opening the cabinets where the ingredients reside. “We’re making them. Well, you’re making them while I supervise.”

Buck laughs and nods, going for the bowls. “Sounds like a plan.”

but then you’ll have a coworker says she’s doing a starbucks run, and you’ll have coworkers who make you laugh, and you’ll get some really amazing news from your manager, and you’ll book a trip for your birthday with your best friend, and you’ll realize something about where you are in life and then you just sit there and go…

Shane closes the door behind him and hooks a finger over the elastic of his mask, tugging it off. He releases a long, clean breath, before immediately starting to cough.

There’s a curse from the other room before hurried footsteps make their way towards him. Blinking away the irritation in his eyes, Shane watches as Ilya appears, worry splashed across his features.

“You are okay?”

“M’fine.” Shane replies with a smile, toeing off his shoes and nudging them into place. “Smoke is just extra thick today, is all.”

Ilya frowns and steps closer, cupping Shane’s cheeks and turning his head from side to side. Knowing it’s easier to just go along with his boyfriend rather than fight, Shane allows it. “You have been coughing all week.”

“The air quality index is beyond ten — the max limit.”

“God, Hollander, still so boring.” Ilya mutters, thumb brushing under Shane’s eyes. “Do you need inhaler?”

Rolling his eyes, Shane bats away Ilya’s hands and finally heads further into the house. “I still can’t believe you managed to get to my team doctor.”

“I am worried about lungs!”

“I don’t need an inhaler! It’s just smoke from a wildfire!” Shane shoots Ilya a look as they arrive in the kitchen, “Your cigarette smoke is way worse.”

Ilya points at him, “You have never coughed as bad with my cigarettes.”

And Shane can’t deny that. But he’s also not going to tell Ilya that he actually has used the inhaler his team doctor thrust at him the other day when Shane went in for a ‘spontaneous’ check up.

(It wasn’t spontaneous. Ilya ratted Shane out to his mother and Yuna’s compromise was the team doctor rather than the hospital.)

Even though Shane had grown up experiencing smokey summers in Canada, something about this year was bothering him worse.

He got a sore throat after being outside for two minutes, his eyes were constantly irritated, and his lungs ached like he’d done multiple laps of the rink at full speed.

Ilya, the asshole, wasn’t as affected as Shane. Which Shane thinks is entirely unfair.

“Sit.” Ilya says, patting counter, “I will give you eye drops.”

“Ilya—“

“Sit.”

Shane pulls himself up onto the counter.

Ilya, smiling triumphantly, grabs one of the many bottles of artificial tears they’ve started keeping around the house, and pops off the lid. “Tip your head back, yes, good.”

The cool liquid is a welcome relief to Shane’s eyes and he exhales slowly as he blinks to spread it around.

By the time his vision has cleared, there’s a bottle of water being held out to him, ice clinking inside of it.

“Drink.”

“You’re so bossy.” Shane mutters, sipping at the water. He hooks his ankles around the back of Ilya’s thighs and tugs him closer. “Can’t believe the smoke has no affect on you. Your lungs are probably shit.”

“I built an immunity.” Ilya grins, placing the bottle down onto the counter before his hand moves to Shane’s chest. A crinkle forms between his eyebrows, “It is not too bad?” He asks, rubbing at Shane’s sternum.

“No,” Shane smiles, it is a little nice having Ilya fret over him, “I put on my mask before I even step outside and don’t take it off until I’m inside. I also carry the inhaler with me, just in case.”

“Good,” Ilya hums, leaning in for a kiss. “I like you alive and okay.”

“What a coincidence,” Shane drapes his arms over his boyfriend’s shoulders, tugging him back in, “So do I.”

This time, Shane ends up breathless because he gets lost in making out with Ilya.

(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)