set me aflame 🔥

tagged by @exhaustedpirate. sorry it took me a few days (a whole week in fact) to get to it! and I’m tagging @chococara25, @dark-alice-lilith, @michaelormewood, and whoever else wants to participate.

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fanfic or original? title?

fanfic. the title is: Let the Waves Carry Us. Part 3 of my 911 BuckTommy rewrite series.

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first two sentences of your current project

Tommy’s blue eyes widen imperceptibly and Buck’s heart drops a little at the sight of them, stopping and starting up again as he watches the older man take in his words—his rejection of the proposal. There’s hurt in those beautifully clear blue orbs and Buck aches to pull Tommy into his arms, fingers twitching to reach out, grasp the other man by the arms, the shoulders, and never let go.

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most recently written sentence(s) of your current project

Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, Buck’s eyes shift lower, and even though his reflection cuts off at the waist, he can picture the horrendously obvious scar on his leg. It’s too long, too pink, too bumpy, and too much of an eyesore.

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favorite line(s) in your current project (any other line would give away too much 😅)

“I trust you. I love you. Sweetheart, I get it.”

“Oh.”

He gets it.

“I’ll be here,” three words, strong and firm. They mean more to him than any verbal declaration of love shared between them.

Tommy really gets it.

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how close is your project to the end

tagged by @chococara25

didn’t have a chance to do it last week, so I’m here this week. a teeny 🤏🏻 bit more of the S3 fic.

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In his corner a few short feet away from Buck lays Bear, who whines lightly at the phone, but doesn’t get up because Buck doesn’t move.

After a few seconds more, it goes silent; whoever is calling him has clearly hung up. But then it starts up again, the vibrations sounding extra loud in the mostly empty living room.

The device is close, within reaching distance to Buck, yet something in him hesitates to pick it up. He reasons silently that it could be Tommy, or Eddie, or Bobby, checking up on him. None of that feels right, however. Again the phone falls silent, and Buck goes back to the repetitive motions of the leg exercise. But just when he thinks the caller has gotten the message—that Buck doesn’t want to talk—the phone starts up for the third time in as many minutes. And this time, Bear does move. The Malinois stands up and moves closer, using his nose, he scoots the buzzing phone towards Buck.

“Yeah, okay, Teddy Bear, maybe it’s…” he drops off mid sentence when his eyes finally catches the name at the top of the screen.

Mom.

To say that’s the last person Buck expected a call from wouldn’t be too far off.

It also explains the niggling feeling in the back of his mind telling him to not pick up the call. But now that he sees it, he can’t help himself. Buck’s thumb is swiping across the screen and answering the (unwanted) call before he could think more than a second more about it. His body is already tense before the phone has even reached his ear, before any words have been uttered.

A warm mass, fur soft and weight grounding, settles beside him. Whatever expression must be on his face, whatever emotions he must be projection, his pup knows that Buck needs the anchor, because suddenly Buck feels like he’s on a poorly built raft out adrift at sea.

“H-hi, mom?” He hates how uncertain he sounds. Almost scared.

“What took you so long?”

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tagged by @michaelormewood

wanted to finally post some BT snippet, but I’ve been more focused on other projects. so…um this is still a long way off, BUT! a small bit of my S3 rewrite fic.

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“You…can’t?” Finally, Tommy speaks. It’s confused, a little choked, and the most unsure Buck has ever heard from the man.

In that second, there’s a part of Buck that wants to take it all back, wants to lunge himself across the small distance and throw himself into Tommy’s arms, to say yes, yes, yes. Yes, he will marry Tommy; yes, he wants them tk be a family officially; yes, he is as much Tommy’s freedom as he is the man’s rock, just like Tommy has always been for him. But Buck doesn’t do any of that. He might have just come out of surgery not too long ago, and maybe there’s still some lingering effects from having nearly been blown up, but Buck is certain.

He loves Tommy, more than anything and anyone in the world.

Buck also can’t accept his proposal right now. However, it’s—

“Not forever. Not because I don’t want to marry you, I just…” he pauses, looks down his body, past Bear, and at the giant cast—stark white and unignorable—wrapped around most of his left leg, “…don’t want this—” Buck gestures to said leg, then the hospital room around them, at the whirling machines situated around the room, at everything that’s now and what would follow as he works towards recovery, “—and everything that comes along with it to be even remotely a factor. I-I—does that make sense?”

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tagged by @exhaustedpirate

last song: “Dracula (Remix)” by Tame Impala & JENNIE

fave color: picking one is hard, but probably most shades of pink—blush pink and pastel pink especially; and I love a good darker shade, like forest green or navy blue.

currently watching: Next Level Chef — I’m kinda obsessed 😂; movie wise, just watched Devil Wears Prada 2

currently reading: Where You Go, I Go by Lady_Something (an F1 Lestappen Omegaverse epic that got me hooked)

current obsession: aside from Hockey and BuckTommy? dipping my toes into F1 tentatively; but also the Chinese drama Chasing Jade.

currently working on: too many fics but also feels like not enough. trying to finish—tho it just keeps getting longer—my mattdrai childhood sweethearts fic, but I’ve also started and am mostly done with a smaller mattdrai kid fic; and trying to figure out how to start out my S3 BuckTommy rewrite fic. with a bunch of smaller projects here and there and WIPs I should be working on and need to finish up like my BT hockey AU or the psycho!Buck fic.

last google search: something fic related—the actual name of the Florida Panthers practice facility haha

current desktop photo: (I had to look for myself cause I really didn’t know 🤣 it rotates) a picture of LWJ and LXC outside of jingshi (iirc) from The Untamed.

tagged by @michaelormewood

took me a while to get to this 😅

1. Write to Rewrite 3: Let the Water Carry Us (rated E — Buck/Tommy, WIP) —— Tommy’s blue eyes widen imperceptibly and Buck’s heart drops a little at the sight of them, stopping and starting up again as he watches the older man take in his words—his rejection of the proposal.

2. links in our chain (rated G — Buck/Tommy, Buck&Theo, Tommy&Theo) —— The reality of being a parent was something Buck had never really considered, because that reality—as far as he’d been concerned at the time—was still quite a bit off in the future.

3. i got you to hold me tight (rated G — Matthew/Leon) —— 5 - 2 That was the outcome of Game 6, and just like that, the Oilers were out of the playoffs.

4. every cup helps a pup (rated G — Buck/Tommy & Bear POV) —— Sundays are always the best days because it means family time, even if not everyone is the family is always there.

5. (running through my head) I feel totally lost (rated T — Buck/Tommy) —— One second Buck is tossing cheese puffs into Eddie’s mouth, laughing and joking, and the next there were headlights shining into their eyes.

6. bad mistakes don’t make themselves (rated T — Matthew/Leon, WIP) —— The last thing Matthew expected to hear when he woke up this morning was his five year old son announcing that not only has he found his favorite NHL team, but also his favorite player.

7. wrapped in glittering gold (rated E — Connor/Matthew/Leon) —— He’s not entirely sure what brought him here.

8. not a bridesmaid, just your plus-one (rated E — Matthew/Leon) —— Somehow, it didn’t occur to Matthew that the first time he’d be stepping onto the ice across from Draisaitl—from Leon—after coming off his long recovery, would be at the Olympics.

9. for better, for worse, but mostly for tom (rated TBD — Buck/Tommy, WIP) —— The treehouse is shaded inside, nestled amongst the branches of the biggest tree right in the center of the divide between two houses.

10. two halves of one (rated E — Buck/Tommy) —— It was probably a terrible idea.

the pattern is too many em-dashes and almost always in medias res, I guess 🤣

was tagged by @exhaustedpirate last week but missed the Wednesday window, so here we are this week lmao

another snippet from my HRPF kid fic (cause I’m still in that mood)

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He wants to reach out and flick open one more button, to see with his own eyes if that blush really went as low as Leon thinks—wants—it does.

Only he doesn’t get a chance to give into his impulses because food arrives. Food neither of them ordered, but it all looks delicious anyway. He makes a comment about that and all he gets in response is a swift kick to his shin before…Tkachuk repositions their legs back just the way they were, Leon practically wrapped around him.

“Shut up and eat your damn food so I can get my fucking signature,” he scowls before ducking down to start taking big mouthfuls of the bolognese sitting right in front of him.

Leon does the same, taking a few bites of his own food and nearly moaning out loud at how fucking amazing it tastes. Cheesy and tangy sweet from the tomato sauce, the chicken parmesan somehow still has a slight crunch to it. This has to be some of the best Italian food Leon has ever tasted on this half of the hemisphere. He devours half of his plate before he thinks to ask the real important question here.

“Why do you suddenly want my signature, then? You don’t have…” he waves one hand around in some vague fashion that’s got Tkachuk looking at him with one brow raised, unimpressed, “...one of those creepy shrines of me, do you? Because I don’t know how comfortable I am about that.”

Tkachuk scoffs, “maybe I want it for a magical ritual; gotta curse the Oilers so they can never win a cup—oh wait.”

Wow.

“Low fucking blow, Chucky.”

“Eat, Drai.”

They both go back to their food for a while, easily cleaning both plates like the hungry post-game hockey players that they are. After Leon’s taken the last bite of his food, he excuses himself to the bathroom, making one small detour beforehand. When he comes back, he’s got that little blue and orange kit dangling from one hand as he sits back down across from Tkachuk. Almost instantly, the other man’s eyes zero in on the jersey.

Crossing his leg, Leon taps one foot against Tkachuk’s leg and then lets it rest there as he smoothes out the little jersey—Oilers logo facing up—over his thigh.

“So this signature is…” he doesn’t finish, and doesn’t need to because Tkachuk face scrunches (too cutely) for a second before he seemingly deflates, shoulders sagging a little as he finally confesses.

“It’s for my son.”

That wasn’t what Leon had been expecting. At most he thought maybe a family relative or something had asked Tkachuk to grab an autograph, though even that had seemed weird and unlikely earlier. Part of Leon thinks the magical ritual idea would be more believable despite the fact that he knows—it’s not secret around the league after all—that Tkachuk has a kid. Just a kid, no mom (that he’s heard about). Yet, somehow, even with the small child-sized jersey laid out before him, Leon’s mind never went there.

“Your—”

“Son. Liam. He’s, uh, five, and a—dammit—an Oilers fan.” There’s an embarrassed sheepishness to him, endearing almost as he reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck.

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