#atomicrebelfire writes

[atomicrebelfire]

Comfort From Distance (post-8x15, canon-compliant)

They don’t talk anymore, not really. But sometimes, when Buck’s shift runs late, he tunes the radio to the air channels, just low enough to catch the familiar tone of a pilot calling in over LAFD dispatch. He tells himself it’s a habit. But the truth is, he’s listening for Tommy’s voice; that calm, steady cadence that used to anchor him in chaos.

And somewhere miles above the city, Tommy still keeps half an ear open on the same frequency, just in case he hears “118, firefighter Buckley, on scene.”

He never keys the mic. But he always stays on the line a few seconds longer than he needs to.

[atomicrebelfire]

Good morning from the desert

i’m not very familiar with the across the miles: postcards with love event @911postcards, but i loved the idea of writing something small that fits the spirit of it. a note sent across distance, or maybe one never sent at all.

This one’s from tommy. to his mom. from somewhere far away.

postcard theme: feeling homesick from: Tommy Kinard, somewhere overseas to: mom (unsent)

Dear Mom, The air smells like rain again. The kind that never falls, just hangs in the air and hums. The guys are asleep; I’m tracing stars I can’t name and wondering if you’d still recognize the sky from here. I fixed the lucky pin you gave me to my flight suit again. The clasp is loose, but it holds. So do I. — Tommy

(he never sent it. just folded it between his logbook pages, where it stayed until the day he finally stopped running from the sky.)

P.S. maybe one day I’ll gather the rest of his letters, the ones written across decades, between flights and fires, and post them together. for now, just this one made it home.

[atomicrebelfire]

Gravity Shift

✨ New Fic ✨

Canon-adjacent-ish or maybe not, just vibes, Soft possessiveness, emotional vulnerability, mutual care

📍Read on AO3

A crowded bar. Buck laughing with Eddie. Tommy smiling quietly beside them—technically part of the group, but not really in it.

Tommy’s not jealous. He’s not. He’s just… tactically repositioning Buck. For bar geometry. Totally normal. Definitely not about feeling left out. Definitely not about Buck laughing at someone else’s jokes.

(Except it kind of is. And Buck notices.)

This fic lives somewhere between soft ache and quiet reassurance. It’s about being seen. About being pulled back in. About someone choosing you—not loudly, but clearly. 💙

🌀 Inspired by this incredible prompt from @epiphainie —just took it in a softer direction: more insecurity than jealousy, more ache than heat, but absolutely the same chaotic energy.

[atomicrebelfire]

Banging on the wall about how Buck called Tommy in a crisis, and Tommy said, "I’m coming" without even hesitating Anyway, they’re married (in spirit) 🛩️🛟 The missing call set just before the helicopter rescue in 8x15. quiet loyalty. steady hands. The things we didn’t see but know happened.

Read on AO3 ➔ The Call

[atomicrebelfire]

✨For You Too

(post-8x15 | grief | BuckTommy) 🔗 Read it on AO3 As tragic as the ending was, it was beautifully shot and choreographed — and what a stellar way to make the audience feel haunted and hurt. And performances by all the cast were 10/10. ---------------------

After Bobby says, “I want time with my wife,” — Buck walks out. Breaks down. Alone.

Except he isn’t. Not really. Not with Tommy watching from the other side of the screen.

💔 Buck POV + Tommy POV 🖤 Silent grief, distant comfort, a tether even in heartbreak 📍Canon-compliant, set during 8x15

You can be surrounded by people — hugged, held, comforted — and still, that core ache? It lives alone.

Grief doesn’t always want to be solved. Sometimes it just wants to be witnessed. Quietly. Without needing to be explained.

Tommy can’t reach Buck. But he sees him. He stays. And Buck doesn’t know. But somewhere deep down, maybe he feels it — that soft tether. That echo.

And that echo? It’s not a solution. It’s just a heartbeat that says: You’re not as alone as you think. Even if the grief still is.

It’s that kind of invisible thread — frayed at the edges, but still holding. That sense of almost. Of still. Of maybe.

This one is about what it means to witness grief — and still care, even from a distance.

“For you too,” he said. And he meant it. P.S. Please focus on the warning before reading. No dialogue. No comfort. Just two people breaking quietly in sync. Because sometimes, grief isn’t about holding each other. It’s about being held — even when you don’t know it.

[atomicrebelfire]

Thinking about how Tommy would only ever want Buck to hear his real vows, and now I'm emotional about it 🖤❤️

💍Tommy’s Proposal and Wedding Style — Some Soft Headcanon! (+ A Tiny Private Vows Sketch)

As confident, flirty, and outwardly composed as Tommy is — the real stuff? The heart-deep, fragile, raw stuff? That’s private. That’s sacred. That’s only for the person he loves to see.

So when it comes to proposing and marriage, Tommy wouldn’t want a big spectacle.

🖤 Proposal Style: He'd want it quiet, personal — probably just at home, sitting side by side on the couch. No grand speech. No audience. Maybe even a little rambling or awkwardness because it matters so much to him. A hand squeeze. A soft look. A few words that tumble out before he can overthink them.

("You make the whole damn world feel like home. And I want that. I want you.")

And Buck would probably blink too fast, like he couldn’t quite believe it, before smiling so wide it hurt. Because of course he would say yes.

🖤 Wedding Style: Small, simple, intimate. Maybe even an elopement or a quiet civil ceremony. But the real vows — the real promises — wouldn’t be shared in front of a crowd. Tommy would want only Buck to hear those. No stage. No applause. Just them.

Because those words are supposed to belong only to Buck. Always. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------💬 What do you guys think Tommy’s proposing or wedding style would be? Would he go super small? Would he elope? Would he just ramble a confession into Buck’s shoulder and call it done? 🥹 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

(And because I couldn’t resist... here’s a tiny soft sketch of what I imagine their private vows could look like.) 🖤 ❤️❤️ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ✨💖 After the Wedding — Just Them ✨🪢💑💍💫🕊️

The door clicks shut behind them. The city hums outside. The wedding papers are signed. Rings are heavy on their hands.

Tommy sinks onto the couch with a long exhale, running a hand through his hair — the nerves still buzzing under his skin. Buck stands there for a second, like he doesn't know what to do now, until Tommy looks up at him.

"Come here," Tommy says, soft, tugging him down by the hand.

They sit, knees knocking. No music. No flowers. No one watching.

Just them.

Tommy presses his forehead to Buck’s shoulder, breathing him in. For a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just sits there, heart hammering against his ribs.

Then, into the quiet, rough-edged:

"I know it wasn’t fancy. I know we didn’t do the whole thing like people are supposed to." "But Evan— it’s always been you. It’s only you." "I don't need a stage. I don’t need anyone else to hear this." "Just you."

He pulls back just enough to look at him. Eyes shining. Voice thick.

"I promise I'm gonna choose you. Every day. Even when it's hard. Even when it's messy. Even when I screw up — and God, I will screw up." "I'm yours. I want to be yours." "I wanna be the place you come home to. Always."

He pulls back just enough to look at him. Eyes shining. Voice thick.

"You make... everything better. Even me. I— I want you. I need you. Always."

Buck’s hand finds the back of his neck, grounding him. His own voice shakes when he says it back:

"I love you. All of you. Forever."

Tommy lets out a choked laugh, relief and awe tangled up together, and leans in — forehead to forehead, breath to breath.

No one claps. No one cheers. No one has to.

Because it’s not for anyone else.

It’s just them.

And it’s enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------P.S. Bored and waiting for lunch, so I just typed this straight into Tumblr. No re-read, no edits. Likely rushed and no forethought. Please pardon any typos, mess, or errors. 🖤

[atomicrebelfire]

How to Invite Your Crush to a Party

Canon-adjacent | BuckTommy | Pre-Relationship Fluff, Mutual Pining, Text Message Fic | just canon-inspired and fueled by flirty chaos.

📍 Read on AO3

What it looks like: Buck inviting Tommy to Chimney’s bachelor party. What it actually is: a mini spiral, multiple deleted drafts, one too-formal emoji, and a subtle meltdown over feelings.

Because texting your crush should absolutely be treated like defusing a bomb, right?

✨ Featuring: • Buck.exe crashing in real time • Tommy being smug and flirty (as he should) • Eddie being 0% helpful and 100% entertained • A perfectly normal 80s-themed almost-date that is totally not a date • Texts that say “party” but really mean “I like you a lot and don’t know how to say it out loud yet”

Set between 7x05 (coffee invite) and 7x06 (bachelor party), this is a missing scene that exists purely because I was bored, in love with soft pre-relationship vibes, and needed to let Buck spiral a little. 💬💙

Thank you so much for reading and joining in the crazies  🌀

P.S. I have nothing better to do. Sleepless midnight, dog going feral with zoomies… what better way to spend it than spiraling with Buck? don't blame me...blame my dog, Leila! 😘

[atomicrebelfire]

Just Enough

I finally posted my first-ever fic on AO3 💙

It’s a short missing scene from 8x11—my take on what Ravi might’ve said to get Tommy to walk over to Buck. Soft, awkward, a little emotionally constipated… just how we like it 😌

📖 Just Enough 🔗 Read it here