This event will take place for the entirety of April with three prompts per week.
Rules:
You can do as many or as little of the prompts as you like. Try to keep posting in the week of the prompt but fics/art posted after is still welcome!
Bucktommy should be the primary pairing but others are allowed as long as they’re tagged! Rating can be of any kind and all warnings are allowed so long as they are tagged appropriately!
Works can be of any kind: art, fic, edits etc
Please tag @bucktommyaupril2026 and use #bucktommyaupril2026
Prompts:
Week 1: 1st-5th
Mafia AU
Soulmates AU
High School/College AU
Week 2: 6th-12th
One of them isn't a firefighter
Shifter/Hybrid AU
Sugar Daddy AU
Week 3: 13th-19th
Classification/Designation AU (CG/L, D/S, A/B/O etc)
Vigilante AU
Supernatural AU
Week 4: 20th-26th
Coffee/Book shop AU
Omegaverse AU
Magic AU
Week 5: 27th-30th
Royalty AU
Gender bent AU
Celebrity AU
Prompts can be interpreted however you like, for example, high school AU could be teachers. There can be platonic elements. As long as the main pairing is buck/tommy.
Note: you can add fics on ao3 to the collection when posting add to BuckTommy AUpril 2026 💙
This was written for @911postcards and for one of my favorite people @fuselsstuff. Thank you for collecting me when I didn’t know I needed to be found. Your friendship means more than I’ll ever be able to fit into a postcard. I love you dearly. 😘💚🧡💜
The paint in the kitchen is still drying, windows cracked to let the smell out. Sal’s out back with the toolbox, arguing with a stubborn hinge while the radio blasts Linkin Park. The walls are primed white, and Evan’s eyes narrow as he tries to tell the difference between the shades of gray Sal gave him to choose from.
He sits at the folding table they’ve been using for meals, sandwich forgotten on the paper plate beside him. There’s a postcard he had printed, a photo he took of the house the day they closed. It’s nothing fancy: three bedrooms, a mailbox, a backyard just big enough for a swing set, a grill, and a few chairs. But it’s theirs.
He takes the card and uncaps a pen.
Maddie,
I finished my probational year last week. They put my name on my helmet.
Buckley… feels like I earned it.
I don’t know if you ever read the ones I sent before. That’s okay. I used to write you to keep from feeling like I wasn't alone in the world. I guess this is the last one. Eight years is a long time to wait for a reply.
I’m still waiting. But I have to let go of that dream so I can make new ones.
I just wanted you to know I’m good. Better than I’ve been in a long time.
I’ve finally found home. Made home. I don’t know ... I just know I’ve got it. I’ve made it with Sal.
He’s kind of an asshole, but he’s patient, steady, and the type of person who fixes things instead of throwing them out. Oh… He’s a Lieutenant for the 122. He’ll be Captain soon.
We just put down roots or whatever, bought a little house. Half the rooms need work, but we’ve got time.
I traded the Jeep for something that doesn’t break down every other week. We turned the garage into a gym, half workshop. He swears we’ll get a couch that isn’t borrowed from his cousin before winter.
It’s not perfect, but it’s ours.
Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.
One last note.
Isn’t it amazing how people can feel like home?
Evan
He reads it twice before letting out a quiet sigh and setting the pen down.
Outside, Sal calls through the screen door, “Mook, you gonna help or just sit on your fuckin’ ass all day?”
Buck grins, places the postcard on top of the stack of bills by his keys. “Coming,” he calls back, grabbing two beers from the cooler on his way out.
For my lovely, most amazing best friend @fuselsstuff thank you for sharing so many wonderful moments with me. It’s been a pleasure being part of your journey even in such a small way as this. I’m proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished so far. Change is always hard, but I know wherever you are in the world, you’ll continue to shine and make the most of it in that special way of yours. I love you 🫶🏻💗
And to the friendships and connections I’ve made in this little corner of the world…thank you for all the joy you’ve brought into my life ✨ @911postcards
salbuck | vacation | fluff | 2.5k words | ao3
They were halfway through their cross-country road trip—their first real vacation together, seven months into the relationship—and about to stop at a small hotel before tackling the last leg of their drive.
Buck would be meeting Sal’s family for the first time, and it was safe to say the closer they got to Sal’s hometown, the more nervous the other man got.
Sal glanced over, watching Buck squirm in his seat again, rubbing his palms against his jeans for what had to be the millionth time.
“You know,” Sal said, amusement in his voice, “my family’s gonna love you, right? There’s absolutely no reason to be this nervous. You’ve already talked to them on the phone.”
Buck froze, eyes darting toward him before he huffed out a breath. “I’m not nervous,” he muttered, pouting. “And that’s not the same as meeting them in person.”
Sal smirked, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, nonna’s been braggin’ about you for months. You’ve got her swapping recipes with you and doing those cooking video dates. I’d be jealous if it was anyone else.”
“Nobody says no to nonna Rosario,” Buck said, a smile tugging at his lips. “She said my risotto looked better than yours.”
“Yeah, well, she’s wrong there,” Sal grumbled. “But she’s still gonna love you, kid.”
Buck ducked his head, tugging at a loose tread in his jeans. “You really think so?”
“Hon,” Sal said, taking one of Buck’s hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “she’s more excited to see you than me. They all are. I’ll be lucky if I even get a minute alone with you while we’re there. Pretty sure they’re planning to send me home with leftovers and keep you instead.”
That earned a laugh—bright and easy—and the sound worked its way straight into Sal’s chest.
He wanted to tell him then. Those three words that had been sitting under his ribs the entire trip, trying to beat out of his chest. But it wasn’t the right moment. Not yet.
Sal wasn’t really the sentimental type or great at saying how he felt, but since meeting Buck, he found himself trying to. Buck deserved romance. All the stops, the whole shebang. Hell, if he could’ve given him the world, he would’ve. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t found the right time yet—because, so far, nothing had felt quite good enough for the other man. He knew the perfect moment didn’t exist, still, he wanted to get as close to it as he could.
Now, with Buck looking lighter, Sal’s own nerves crept in. Taking Buck to meet his family was a big step, one that said a lot about where they were headed. It both steadied him and made his knees weak. He wanted everything with Buck—and wasn’t that something? After his divorce, he hadn’t thought he’d get another chance at this. Finding someone who made him feel both full and light at the same time.
He was one lucky son of a bitch, that was for sure, and Sal would make sure he didn’t take that for granted.
He squeezed Buck’s hand and drove them the rest of the way to the hotel.
*
Half an hour later, they were checked in and settling into the room. Sal was elbows-deep in his duffel bag, muttering under his breath. “Where the hell is that damn thing?”
His phone was about to die, and he wanted to look up what restaurants were nearby—something unique and romantic for Buck, preferably one that also served a good, juicy steak for him.
Buck looked up from the table, eyes twinkling. “You talking to yourself, old man?”
Sal shot him a look, “Don’t start something we can’t finish, brat. We’ve got a full itinerary to get through, remember? I’m looking for my charger.”
“I did plan every second of it,” Buck said, grinning. “So yeah, I remember. And I think it’s in my bag.”
Sal reached for Buck’s bag and paused. The charger was at the very top, but underneath it was a small, bundled stack of postcards.
He picked them up, curious. “Starting up a new hobby, Evan? You sending all of these out? You do know we’re just going to be gone two weeks, right? Not enough time for anyone to miss us that much,” Sal chuckled.
Buck, halfway to the bathroom, turned sharply. “Oh, uh—those aren’t for sending. That’s not why I got them.”
Sal raised a brow. “So…you are collecting them?”
Buck laughed nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets, his posture shrinking into something almost bashful. “Technically, I guess. They’re…for me. And, well, some are for you too, in a way. For us.”
Sal frowned lightly. “Okay, now you’ve lost me a bit.”
“I told you how I moved around a lot before I came to L.A., right?” Buck swallowed, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Well, I used to send Maddie postcards. It—it made me feel less alone, like no matter where I ended up, someone knew where I was.”
Sal’s teasing faded, his chest going soft. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I get that.”
“She showed them to me a while back,” Buck went on.“It brought back a lot of memories. I liked having proof of that journey. When I saw that rack of postcards on our first stop… I don’t know, it made me want to do it again.”
He smiled faintly, gaze dropping. “I just…want to remember every single second of this trip. I’ve never really gone on vacation with a partner before, you know?”
There was something in his voice that went deeper than the words. He shrugged like it was nothing, but it tugged hard at something inside Sal—and made him feel like an ass for joking about it in the first place.
Jeez, Deluca. Way to go.
He looked down at the stack, recognizing the picture on the top card; the small town where they’d stopped at first. “That one’s from the ranch, huh?”
Buck grinned, “the one where my horse was a menace and you swore off riding for the foreseeable future?”
“Yeah, that one.” Sal’s lips twitched, keeping his smile in check. “You still laughing about that?”
“Every time I think about it. I’ve never heard you make that sound before.”
Sal huffed, rolling his eyes. “If a horse bit you in the ass, I’d love to see what sounds you make.”
Buck snorted, biting his lip.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Sal ran his thumb over the glossy card fondly before holding the stack back out to him.
Buck hesitated, then nodded to himself like he’d come to a decision. “You can read them—if you want. Just, promise not too laugh.”
“Sweetheart,” Sal said, voice low and thick, “I ain’t gonna laugh. I can promise you that.”
He thumbed through the cards while Buck sat on the edge of the bed and fidgeted with his phone pretending to look busy. Sal flipped to the next card and read.
Arizona
Sal surprised me with a visit to Butterfly Wonderland today. It…it was amazing. I don’t even know how to describe it properly. All these colors and wings fluttering all around like a dream come to life.
A few even landed on me. Sal joked I was officially a Disney princess, but I think he was just jealous none of them picked him.
Afterward, I might have spent longer than I should've in the insect section. Every little fact was just so interesting. I thought Sal would be annoyed, but when I turned around he was smiling. Told me to take my time, even asked a few questions.
That…meant a lot. He means a lot to me.
Colorado
Okay, so—I might have convinced Sal that we absolutely needed to stay at The Stanley Hotel. For the rich history, of course. Definitely not because I wanted him to believe in ghosts.
The place was gorgeous in that old-timey kinda way. And spooky. Sal pretended to roll his eyes through the whole thing, but I caught him glaring at one of the lights when it flickered.
I thought I’d have trouble sleeping, but as soon as I was in Sal’s arms, I was out. Didn't even dream. Sal, on the other hand, looked like he didn’t get a wink. He was grumbling and huffing about it, blaming it on the creaky walls and faulty wiring. I dont think that was it. I let it go though. And told him he at least kept me safe from the ghosts. That made him smug. (I didn’t mention that whatever was around, probably got scared away with his grumpy face.)
Nebraska
We stopped at the Aerospace Museum, and I’ll admit I picked this one entirely for Sal. Still, I had a lot of fun too. Now I have an arsenal of facts to throw at Tommy when we hang out again for trivia night.
Tommy, Sal’s best friend, is a pilot and they can talk for hours about their bombers and fighter jets. I’m pretty sure Sal took a picture of every single one to send to him.
He even bought a keychain shaped like a little plane on the way out—for Tommy—and no, I wasn't jealous. I wasn’t. But…I’m also not going to complain about the flurry of kisses I got afterward to make up for it.
Illinois
As soon as I knew we were driving cross-country, I planned a stop here. Booked it months in advance, and even then, I had to pull in some favors. The restaurant offered a multi-course fine dining experience that was pricey but so worth it.
The food was unreal. Each course felt like a work of art. Unique flavors and combinations I’d never tried before. Sal wasn’t all that enthused about it, but he still trusted me enough to try everything I put in front of him, listening while I rambled about the flavors, never once taking his eyes off me.
It was…a heady feeling, that attention. He lways makes me feel like I’m the only person in world worth looking at.
We might have skipped desert and our night walk to head back to the hotel instead. Hopefully we cleaned the windows enough before leaving…zero regrets though.
Each postcard was like that—short, vivid snapshots of their trip, handwritten in Buck's messy loop. Full of details he’d noticed, things Sal hadn’t realized he’d done that had mattered. And it struck him, how every single one mentioned him; Buck’s wonder and feelings shining through every time he wrote about Sal. These were the moments that had meant something to Buck.
Sal found himself cradling the cards carefully, like they were something fragile. He swallowed hard after finishing the last one, his throat tight.
“I…I never noticed you writing these,” he said quietly, his voice rough around the edges.
Buck’s voice was small. “Oh, um, I sometimes wrote them while you were asleep. Or when you went to fill up the car,” he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s not too silly or stupid, is it?”
Sal exhaled slowly, fire burning in his chest. He wanted to hunt down whoever had put those kinds of doubts in Buck’s head, made him believe something this genuine wasn’t worth keeping—and throttle them. “No,” he said, firmly. “It’s incredibly sweet.”
He stepped closer, hand curling at the back of Buck’s neck, fingers brushing at his hair. “And I love them. Every damn one. Thank you…for safekeeping our moments like that.”
Buck blinked, eyes misted over, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “Oh um…yeah?”
“Yeah, Ev,” Sal murmured, bending down to kiss him. Deep and slow. “Next stop, can I pick out a few?”
Buck’s smile was blinding. “Sure. That’s—I…I’d love that.”
They didn’t talk much after that—didn’t need to. Just lost themselves in each other, their hands and kisses saying what they were both still too hesitant to speak aloud.
It wasn't until Buck remembered the tour he’d signed them up for (that he really didn’t want to miss) that they scrambled to get dressed again. Buck’s laughter ringing through the room as Sal cursed and tripped over his bag on the way out, his muttered complaints only making Buck smile wider. And if he played it up just a little to keep that smile on Buck’s face, well, that was his business.
*
The next morning, sunlight spilled through the open curtains they’d forgotten to close; too busy picking up right where they’d left off earlier in the day to care about anything else.
Sal woke first, dragged himself to the bathroom, and came out to find Buck sprawled across his side of the bed, face buried in Sal’s pillow, curls a wild mess.
He stood there for a long moment, watching him—feeling something warm and steady bloom in his chest. Then he crossed the room, running a hand through those unruly curls before leaning down to press a kiss to the pink spot above Buck’s eyebrow.
Downstairs, the souvenir shop was a sad little thing—cheap designs, outdated key-chains— but it had what he’d been looking for: a small rack full of postcards. Most were faded pictures of sunsets, old buildings or beach-side landscapes. Still, one caught his eye—a drawn map of the city with a small heart right over their location, and looping across the bottom in cursive: Home is where the heart is. Perfect.
At the coffee shop next door, he borrowed a pen and flipped the card over. He thought about everything he was feeling, the tidal rush of love and want that came with Buck, everything he wished he could say but couldn’t quite find the right words for. In the end, he went with something simple. Something that said everything he needed to.
And my heart will always be with you. I love you.
Then, he added a question below it, heart quickening as he signed it, before slipping the card into his back pocket. Breathe, Deluca. He wanted this, and he knew they were ready. All that was left was to take the plunge and believe in them.
Coffee cups in hand, he went back to the room. Buck was still asleep when he came in. Sal set the coffee on the nightstand and the postcard on the pillow beside him, slipping into the bathroom for a quick shower—they had to check out in an hour and get back on the road.
He didn’t hear Buck come in—just felt warm arms circle his waist, a wet kiss pressed between his shoulder blades.
Then Bucks voice, low and rough, whispered against his skin:
“I love you too. And the answer is yes. I’ll move in with you .”
Sal closed his eyes, smiling before turning and capturing Buck’s lips as the warm water poured over them.
What do you know? He’d found the perfect moment after all.
He could see the road ahead now—clear and endless—carrying them toward a future he’d thought he’d stopped believing in long ago. A future they were building together.
Sal was excited to get there. But first, he’d enjoy every step of the journey. One postcard at a time.
Anybody excited because I'm excited! Pre-announcing the prompts – maybe some of you might want to write ahead, or just to get you in the mood. Like last time, each day has one prompt for physical and one for psychological whump. You choose, but I promise, this time it's hard to choose because you'll love them all... See you in June!
June 2. – Oxygen. Prompts: Oxygen Deprivation // Emotional suffocation
June 3. – Fall From Grace. Prompts: Canon typical disaster // Abandonment issues
June 4. – My Therapy. Prompts: Field Medicine (No anesthesia) // PTSD
June 5. – Slip to the Void. Prompts: Coma // Grief
June 6. – Numb. Prompts: Hypothermia // Depression
We are gauging fandom's interest in a 9-1-1 Pride zine that is a celebration of canon queer representation across all three shows within the 9-1-1 Universe.
Please fill out the form below and share it so that we can best gauge interest in a pride fan zine. If you have any questions, our DM's and ask box are both open.
This survey is to gauge interest in participating in or purchasing a pride themed fan zine for the 9-1-1 Universe
It’s almost that time again! We want to celebrate some of the amazing small businesses within our 911 fandom community!
Who can submit?
Anyone! Have a redbubble link? An Etsy shop? This is open for anyone in the fandom with a side hustle they want to share. Handcrafted items, commissions, stickers, you name it! It doesn’t haven’t to be 911 related even! Let’s just support our amazing friends!
What do we need?
•The link to your shop
•A description of your items.
•Your IG handle if you wish to be tagged on our posts!
•A graphic or an example of your work helps but not required!
Okay so I made a discord for Buddie Week but now I'm like... what about Buck & Bobby Week? Do I make a separate one? Or do I add it as a bonus event? Or do I change it to smilingbuckley's fandom events and give each their own category?
(^ still changing some, I think I'll make a separate catagory with 'writing' in which advice etc will be)
what do you think?
seperate server
add as bonus
change to events (this way 911 countdown to Christmas can join)
