bigheartbuck

[bigheartbuck]

PLSSSSSSS can we get carson back they're soooooooo cute 🥰

[bigheartbuck]

Not as much.

[bigheartbuck]

2x16 / 7x10

[bigheartbuck]

i keep these longings locked

part i part ii part iii part iv part v

tommy-centric/bucktommy

tw: internalized homophobia

no pressure tag list: @sweaters-and-silly @station18908 @v88sy @kinardbrainrot @likeapaperplane @teabroomsandbooks @planetesastraea @setmeatopthepyre @stars-inthe-sky @thats-the-biz-babe @scarliefrancis @crimsonwildcat-blog @joyousmistake

(lmk if you wanna be added too)

this little silly series is almost finished!! next part will be the last part. and then I'll put it all on ao3. thank you for reading along! i did something slightly different for the second half of this installment, hope ppl like it, rip. ____________________

It all goes to shit, eventually.

Evan is asleep. Exhausted and worn out from his shift. His mouth hangs open and his curls are damp from the shower he took right after he came in. He moves around Tommy's place so easily. He belongs, effortlessly. Gently, Tommy brushes his finger over the birthmark over Evan's eye. He should get going. He has errands to run. Instead he's hovering by his sleeping boyfriend like a creeper. He was yapping right until he fell asleep, mentioned a cool stunt Eddie had done and something about a dog, and perhaps he would get a dog at some point and did Tommy even like dogs? And then his breathing pattern had evened out and Tommy's been lying next to him since. Staring.

He loves him.

He's known for a little while now. It's the deep, profound realization that Evan makes him feel safe. He's enthusiastic and really fucking cute, he bickers and banters like a pro, and he's drained and dried out the deepest, darkest sea in Tommy's mind with his bare hands. He's earnest and stubborn and wants to do and be good. He cares about the tiniest creatures and gets invested in trying out new recipes. Tommy doesn't deserve him but he can't help but melt into it, the idea that this could last a while. That Evan won't run off when he finds the true Tommy under all the layers of cool pilot and competent boyfriend. Six months and Evan is still here.

His phone buzzes.

He'll tell him tomorrow. They have movie plans. He'll lace their hands together and he'll say it.

He picks up the phone and presses a kiss to the top of Evan's head before he heads out of the bedroom to answer the call.

So of course this is when Tommy fucks it up.

.

Jean looks at him over the rim of her glasses, face open and empathetic. "Tell me about the call with your dad," she says and sips from her coffee. Tommy makes a face. "Same old shit," he says, shrugs. "Calls me after a decade of no contact, and --"

Jean makes a note on her pad. Her dark hair is held back with a clip. Fingernails short. She is neat as always. Tommy realizes suddenly he's known her for the better part of the past decade. He's been in and out of sessions with longer stretches in between. He wasn't going to call her again but Donato kicked his ass for moping around the Harbor and told him to get his act together.

"What did he call you about?" Jean asks and curiously looks at him. "I'd be incredibly surprised to hear from him if I were you."

Tommy burrows deeper into the soft chair. Spins from left to right, fingers tapping on his thigh. "I thought he was gonna --" He clears his throat. "I thought he was going to apologize. For leaving us when I was 15. Stupid, I know." Jean nods, her pen scribbling over her notepad. "You haven't talked to him since you --"

"Since I left the army. We weren't really close but, you know, I kept him updated about stuff and he got pissed at me for leaving service and -" It's all so cliché. The eager boy trying to please his dad turning out to be gay. Shame. Shame he hadn't felt in years. Shame he thought he'd grown past but came hurling back as soon as he saw the caller ID.

"And now he called you to say what?" Jean prompts gently. Tommy exhales and the lump in his throat won't budge. "He called me to say he was gonna be taking me out of the will because he -"

Jean puts her pen down. Listens. Tommy stares at the drawing of a child hugging a big, stuffed teddy bear. It hangs on the wall above Jean's head. "He said," he continues, voice thin, "that he heard things about me. And he asked if any of it was true and -- "

Jean’s gaze is steady. “And you said -- .”

“No. Of course I said no.” Tommy doesn’t look at her. “I said no, and I hung up, and I went into the bathroom and threw up.” He shrugs. “I haven’t done that since I was a teenager.”

"I mean it wasn't about the will, or the money," he says. "I make enough on my own, I'm good at what I do. I don't care about his fucking money." His voice shakes. "I just wanted him to --"

Tommy feels his pulse hammering through him. "I've spent so much time building a life outside of this -- this shame, and it all goes crumbling down in one split second because what, my dad doesn't love me? How fucking pathetic, how fucking -- I can't even stand up for myself."

Jean nods. Waits a moment for Tommy to collect himself. Hands him the box of tissues. "You wanted that connection," she says firmly. "At 15 when he left you. When he broke off any contact because you left the army. And now that he reached out to sever the last ties you would have had beyond his death. You reacted like any child would."

And Tommy thinks he's not a child, he's a grown ass adult. He's got his own house for fuck's sake. He bites down hard on his lip and the tears well up anyway. Jean makes more notes. "What would that child have needed to hear?" she asks. Tommy thinks about the scrawny teenager. His shaking hands as he tossed out the magazines. Shame crippling him. "Just that --," Tommy scrubs a hand over his face. "That it's okay," he says eventually. "That he's happy I'm happy. That he's sorry for leaving me when I was a kid and for making me feel like I'm -- wrong and disgusting."

Jean nods. "That would've been the bare minimum." She exhales loudly. "So a day later, Evan said he wanted you to move in and expressed his admiration for you..."

"I just felt --" Tommy thinks about Evan's big eyes, his confused face. "I just thought, you don't know me at all. You don't know I'm a fucking liar and a coward and you don't know I'm so fucked up and --" He lets out a huff that sounds dangerously close to a sob.

Jean doesn't say anything for a while. She's good at that. Giving him the space to feel everything.

They finish the session a little later. Jean's giving him exercises for meditation and journaling. Says they might start EMDR soon. And she encourages him to talk to Evan. Explain to him what he was feeling and thinking.

Tommy leaves, feeling marginally better about it all. It's not like he hasn't dug himself out of shit before. He can do it again.

On the way home, he drives by the loft. Glances at the windows.

Next time he'll stop by.

Maybe

[bigheartbuck]

sometimes the thought that we might never see tommy again and that his canon story ends at/with bobby’s funeral crosses my mind and i just sit there and stare at a wall about it

[bigheartbuck]

okay but buck is a babe kinda guy where as tommy is a honey, baby, sweetheart, darling, angel kinda guy

[bigheartbuck]

I think the “right woman” for Eddie is a therapist, hope that helps!

[bigheartbuck]

i keep these longings locked

part i part ii part iii part iv part v

tommy-centric/bucktommy

tw: internalized homophobia

no pressure tag list: @sweaters-and-silly @station18908 @v88sy @kinardbrainrot @likeapaperplane @teabroomsandbooks @planetesastraea @setmeatopthepyre @stars-inthe-sky @thats-the-biz-babe @scarliefrancis @crimsonwildcat-blog @joyousmistake

(lmk if you wanna be added too)

this little silly series is almost finished!! next part will be the last part. and then I'll put it all on ao3. thank you for reading along! i did something slightly different for the second half of this installment, hope ppl like it, rip. ____________________

It all goes to shit, eventually.

Evan is asleep. Exhausted and worn out from his shift. His mouth hangs open and his curls are damp from the shower he took right after he came in. He moves around Tommy's place so easily. He belongs, effortlessly. Gently, Tommy brushes his finger over the birthmark over Evan's eye. He should get going. He has errands to run. Instead he's hovering by his sleeping boyfriend like a creeper. He was yapping right until he fell asleep, mentioned a cool stunt Eddie had done and something about a dog, and perhaps he would get a dog at some point and did Tommy even like dogs? And then his breathing pattern had evened out and Tommy's been lying next to him since. Staring.

He loves him.

He's known for a little while now. It's the deep, profound realization that Evan makes him feel safe. He's enthusiastic and really fucking cute, he bickers and banters like a pro, and he's drained and dried out the deepest, darkest sea in Tommy's mind with his bare hands. He's earnest and stubborn and wants to do and be good. He cares about the tiniest creatures and gets invested in trying out new recipes. Tommy doesn't deserve him but he can't help but melt into it, the idea that this could last a while. That Evan won't run off when he finds the true Tommy under all the layers of cool pilot and competent boyfriend. Six months and Evan is still here.

His phone buzzes.

He'll tell him tomorrow. They have movie plans. He'll lace their hands together and he'll say it.

He picks up the phone and presses a kiss to the top of Evan's head before he heads out of the bedroom to answer the call.

So of course this is when Tommy fucks it up.

.

Jean looks at him over the rim of her glasses, face open and empathetic. "Tell me about the call with your dad," she says and sips from her coffee. Tommy makes a face. "Same old shit," he says, shrugs. "Calls me after a decade of no contact, and --"

Jean makes a note on her pad. Her dark hair is held back with a clip. Fingernails short. She is neat as always. Tommy realizes suddenly he's known her for the better part of the past decade. He's been in and out of sessions with longer stretches in between. He wasn't going to call her again but Donato kicked his ass for moping around the Harbor and told him to get his act together.

"What did he call you about?" Jean asks and curiously looks at him. "I'd be incredibly surprised to hear from him if I were you."

Tommy burrows deeper into the soft chair. Spins from left to right, fingers tapping on his thigh. "I thought he was gonna --" He clears his throat. "I thought he was going to apologize. For leaving us when I was 15. Stupid, I know." Jean nods, her pen scribbling over her notepad. "You haven't talked to him since you --"

"Since I left the army. We weren't really close but, you know, I kept him updated about stuff and he got pissed at me for leaving service and -" It's all so cliché. The eager boy trying to please his dad turning out to be gay. Shame. Shame he hadn't felt in years. Shame he thought he'd grown past but came hurling back as soon as he saw the caller ID.

"And now he called you to say what?" Jean prompts gently. Tommy exhales and the lump in his throat won't budge. "He called me to say he was gonna be taking me out of the will because he -"

Jean puts her pen down. Listens. Tommy stares at the drawing of a child hugging a big, stuffed teddy bear. It hangs on the wall above Jean's head. "He said," he continues, voice thin, "that he heard things about me. And he asked if any of it was true and -- "

Jean’s gaze is steady. “And you said -- .”

“No. Of course I said no.” Tommy doesn’t look at her. “I said no, and I hung up, and I went into the bathroom and threw up.” He shrugs. “I haven’t done that since I was a teenager.”

"I mean it wasn't about the will, or the money," he says. "I make enough on my own, I'm good at what I do. I don't care about his fucking money." His voice shakes. "I just wanted him to --"

Tommy feels his pulse hammering through him. "I've spent so much time building a life outside of this -- this shame, and it all goes crumbling down in one split second because what, my dad doesn't love me? How fucking pathetic, how fucking -- I can't even stand up for myself."

Jean nods. Waits a moment for Tommy to collect himself. Hands him the box of tissues. "You wanted that connection," she says firmly. "At 15 when he left you. When he broke off any contact because you left the army. And now that he reached out to sever the last ties you would have had beyond his death. You reacted like any child would."

And Tommy thinks he's not a child, he's a grown ass adult. He's got his own house for fuck's sake. He bites down hard on his lip and the tears well up anyway. Jean makes more notes. "What would that child have needed to hear?" she asks. Tommy thinks about the scrawny teenager. His shaking hands as he tossed out the magazines. Shame crippling him. "Just that --," Tommy scrubs a hand over his face. "That it's okay," he says eventually. "That he's happy I'm happy. That he's sorry for leaving me when I was a kid and for making me feel like I'm -- wrong and disgusting."

Jean nods. "That would've been the bare minimum." She exhales loudly. "So a day later, Evan said he wanted you to move in and expressed his admiration for you..."

"I just felt --" Tommy thinks about Evan's big eyes, his confused face. "I just thought, you don't know me at all. You don't know I'm a fucking liar and a coward and you don't know I'm so fucked up and --" He lets out a huff that sounds dangerously close to a sob.

Jean doesn't say anything for a while. She's good at that. Giving him the space to feel everything.

They finish the session a little later. Jean's giving him exercises for meditation and journaling. Says they might start EMDR soon. And she encourages him to talk to Evan. Explain to him what he was feeling and thinking.

Tommy leaves, feeling marginally better about it all. It's not like he hasn't dug himself out of shit before. He can do it again.

On the way home, he drives by the loft. Glances at the windows.

Next time he'll stop by.

Maybe

[bigheartbuck]

Something about the early stages of Buck and Tommy dating is so hot to me.

Just imagine Buck discovering that he gets turned on like crazy just because he can tell Tommy's getting hard in his pants. Or that he pops an instant boner the first time Tommy presses him into the sofa with his full weight.

Basically just Buck wondering how he didn't know he liked men, because everything about Tommy is driving him crazy.

[bigheartbuck]

i miss tommy. I miss buck. I miss buck being cute as shit around tommy. I miss tommy being smitten by buck. bring them back 😭

[bigheartbuck]

For @bucktommysummerfest week 3, prompts: pool party / different first kiss

Bar restroom hookup ft 'put that man in a mesh top again i beg of u'

[bigheartbuck]

Remember when Tommy said his bf looked cute and people lost their damn minds because “what if the children see?” Like how is this fandom so quick to go full evangelical Christian over Buck and Tommy literally just chilling?

[bigheartbuck]

Okay Oliver.

[bigheartbuck]

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Thanks for the ask anon! Here's ~500 words of Team Jacob, picking up directly from the end of last Chapter:

Buck wants desperately to drag Tommy back to the roof and kiss the living daylights out of his as soon as he’s out of the shower. Scratch that, he wants to drag Tommy into the showers with him, tear off his clothes until they’re both naked and soaked and Buck gets a crash course in how to suck dick.

The tones have other plans.

As soon as Bobby brings the station back online, they’re sent out on a series of minor calls: falls, a kid caught in an elevator, a husband stuck up a tree after the cat got herself back down. Small stuff that doesn’t take to much of Buck’s concentration which is a good thing because most of his focus his taken up trying not to think about how hot Tommy looks in suspenders.

The only way Tommy could look hotter right now is if he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath and his turnout pants were unbuttoned enough to reveal his happy trail disappearing into the waste band of his underwear like in one of those hot firefighter calendars.

Tommy sends a look that’s somehow a cross between a warning, amusement and blatant attraction Buck’s way, no doubt getting a whiff of Buck’s arousal-soaked scent. “Down boy,” Tommy whispers low enough that only Buck can hear.

Buck smiles and shakes his head as he steadies the ladder for Tommy to climb up to fetch the stranded husband. How is it that he’s gone through twenty-six years on planet Earth and never realised how into hot guys’ asses he is? How did he fool himself into thinking it was totally hetero admiration of the work the dude put in at the gym?

Now, Buck’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to get enough of the sight of Tommy climbing up a ladder in front of him.

“You two are going to be super annoying, aren’t you?” Hen says.

“Um,” Buck’s not sure what to say to that. He looks at Bobby as though the captain maybe has an answer. So far Bobby’s definitely seems like an answers kind of guy. Though maybe not the relationship advice kind of guy now that Buck thinks about it. Bobby’s actually really private. He wears a wedding ring but he never talks about his wife and actually, Buck’s never smelled anyone else’s scent on Bobby. Hen carries around Karen and Denny’s scents mingled in her own and Buck can always tell when Chimney had Tatiana over, but Bobby only ever smells like himself. Like he doesn’t have anyone outside of work.

Just thinking about it sends a sliver of loneliness stabbing into Buck’s soul. He knows what that’s like. That level of loneliness. That’s what he’s been running from, hiding from in other people’s beds.

Maybe, with Tommy, he won’t have to hide from loneliness any longer. Maybe he’ll finally be able to leave loneliness behind.

Bobby shrugs. “Just so long as you two don’t become an HR violation,” he says.

Buck hears Tommy chuckle under his breath and oh my god it’s the most adorable sound Buck’s ever heard.

[bigheartbuck]

i kinda can't stop thinking about them

[bigheartbuck]

27 for cuddle prompts? 🥺😍

aaah this is for first cuddle (27). set immediately after s07e06 aka maddie and chimney's wedding/the hospital kiss (can't resist the link). about 1.8k.

---

Buck was trying not to look too much like a cartoon dog that had its tongue lolling out onto the hospital parking lot, but he was probably failing. Even as he leaned against the side of his Jeep, super super cool with his arms crossed over his chest while Tommy stripped out of his turnouts, he was—he wasn't cool, not even a little.

"And you're sure you don't mind that the back of your Jeep is going to smell like a wildfire for a while?" Tommy's in his LAFD t-shirt and pants, glaring down at himself with an annoyed huff. "Sorry that I look—"

"No, you—"

They'd stopped in a bathroom before they left the hospital to wash the dirt and ash off their faces, and they shared a quick kiss when they were clean again. Tommy looked beautiful when he showed up in the ER, beautiful as he tried to eat a piece of cake but was literally too tired to chew, beautiful when he scrubbed the grime off his face and ran his wet hands through his hair, beautiful in the parking lot with dust all over his t-shirt and slacks and sweat stains where his shirt was sticking, and these were all things that Buck wasn't stupid enough to say to the guy he'd been on 0.5 dates with (-1 pizza date, 1 coffee date, 0.5 making out in the ER at his sister's wedding before bailing).

"You look fine," Buck says, like a moron who doesn't want to learn how to suck dick at Tommy's knees, and a moron who didn't look up the website for Maddie and Chim's original venue and didn't linger on a wedding video called Bernardo and Jake's Magical Journey.

Tommy arches an eyebrow at him. His hair's still damp and starting to curl and Buck can lie all he wants, but he can't hide the way he's stopped breathing as he stares at Tommy, who's staring right back.

"Just fine?" Tommy asks, finding the strength to smirk but not eat a piece of wedding cake. Priorities? Maybe.

"Get in the car," Buck laughs, hoping his laugh sounds more normal than it did inside his head.

---

Tommy's showering downstairs and Buck is staring at his bed trying to see what it looks like to a gay guy. Is this a straight guy's bed? Not anymore, he says to himself. He's been on some journeys with his phone and laptop up here since he kissed Tommy, but that doesn't mean that he's like. In it.

He's changed the sheets. They smell sensitive skin fragrance-free fresh. He brought a couple of waters up here. The lube is in his nightstand, not hanging out somewhere under the pillows. Tommy's a cool guy and maybe he would fuck Buck's brains out the first time they were anything close to horizontal, but he's been working and too tired for cake so the lube can hang out in its usual home for now.

"Evan?"

Buck almost trips on his foot. He was standing still. "Yeah?"

"Sorry if this is too forward, but can I borrow a pair of shorts or something? I don't know which is more forward: borrowing some clothes or just walking out of here naked."

"That's why I came up here, ha ha," Buck calls back. "Sorry, I was—I'm coming down now."

Buck grabs a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts, and a pair of pants in case Tommy runs cold, he doesn't know, then starts down the staircase. He's almost to the bottom when Tommy comes out, a towel wrapped around his hips and barely hanging on. "Holy shit," Buck says, then slips on the last two steps of his staircase and bounces down to the bottom.

"Jesus, are you—"

"Your towel," Buck stammers as it slips even lower.

Tommy gives him a look so wry and slick it makes Buck sweat even more. "Did you hit your head? How many towels do you see in front of you?"

Buck pouts at him from the bottom step. "You're making fun of me."

Tommy looks relieved for a beat before he switches easily into the coolest, hottest guy Buck has ever had in his apartment (sorry Bobby, wait who said that). "A little bit," Tommy admits. "Are you okay?"

He holds out a hand and helps Buck back onto his feet. Buck's not used to someone helping him up actually having the strength to help him up, so he lands a little clumsily on his feet and a little too close to Tommy. "Wow," Buck says. "How much do you bench?"

"Around 250. Is that a no to the concussion?"

"What? Yeah, I didn't hit my head or anything."

"Okay. Good." Their eyes are locked on each other until Tommy looks down and then at Buck again. "Are those for me?"

"Clothes, yeah, uh, I. Hope they fit?"

"Don't laugh if I look a little funny," Tommy says as he heads back into the bathroom. He stops so he can thoroughly look Buck up and down. "You're a lot of leg."

"Yep," Buck says. "I've got 'em."

Tommy shakes his head and laughs as he goes back into the bathroom. Buck takes several deep breaths, then says, "I'm gonna be upstairs, if you wanna come up. I've got water and, uh, I brought your phone up here. And I've got—"

Tommy's already out of the bathroom in Buck's clothes, his oversized shirt and his shorts that look a little long on Tommy. "Do I look okay?" He's fucking around with Buck so much and Buck can't fight back or do anything about it, he's so gone.

"Not bad," Buck says. "You wanna come up and see the rest of the wardrobe?"

"Very smooth, 10/10. Be careful on these steps. You really need runners or something on them. How long have you been here?"

"Uh, long enough that I definitely should have put runners down earlier," Buck admits. "One of those things you forget about until you fall on your ass in front of—"

They're upstairs, at Buck's bed, and. Yep. This is his bed.

"In front of your super hot wedding date who just… really wants to sleep for a while?" Tommy lets out a huge yawn, all of him stretching and flexing in the most distracting way. "Sorry I'm not a lot of fun right now. Firefighting, it'll do it."

"No, let's." Buck pulls the covers back and climbs in, changed into his own clean outfit, too. "It's been like, 36 hours straight of adrenaline looking for Chimney, our parents being here, trying to keep Jee-yun calm, encephalitis? I'm—I'm ready to crash, too."

Tommy doesn't kneel on the bed until Buck smiles at him and pats the mattress. "Did you really need an invitation?"

"No, no, of course not."

"Do I need to say or do something else that's dumb so you're comfortable in here?"

Tommy laughs, surprised. "No, it's just." He climbs in, then, and lies on his side. Buck does, too, then takes some comforter and throws it over him. Tommy should enjoy this; Buck hogs the covers so it's probably the last time he'll let him have any. "You'd never been on a date with a guy before. Does that mean you'd never been… with a guy before?"

Buck hopes it's not too obvious when he swallows the giant lump in his throat. "Not my first cuddle with a guy, if that's what you're asking."

Tommy laughs so brightly at that, the crinkles at the edges of his eyes taking Buck out. "That's exactly what I was asking because every other part of me? Way too tired."

"So cuddle me," Buck says, feeling so brave and terrified because what if he cuddles wrong? What if he cuddles like a straight guy? Oh, he probably does. Tommy reaches out a hand and rests it on Buck's waist, which is enough for Buck to edge closer and blurt out, "I'm sorry if I cuddle like a straight guy."

Tommy looks surprised. "Is that a thing? I wouldn't know."

"Really? I know you weren't out while you were at the 118 but like, didn't you have friends—"

"No, my model came fueled with repression, not an ounce of heterosexuality in the tank." Tommy half-smiles at his joke, then moves his hand from Buck's waist to his arm. "This okay?"

"So okay," Buck says, edging closer. "I don't know what cuddling like a straight guy is, either, but I don't know if it's different with—with other guys."

"Well," Tommy says. "Turns out you're not so straight anymore. So maybe it's whatever you want it to be."

Buck nods. "What do you want it to be?"

"Hmm, right now?"

He carefully, so carefully, wraps an arm around Buck's chest and rests his head on Buck's shoulder. Buck lets him lie there for a beat, then turns a little, too, trying to fit his body to Tommy's. It's—it's not that it's different from women, but. But Tommy's different.

As Buck shifts, he sees that Tommy has his eyes closed, but he's grinning so wide. "I'm not gonna bite. Maybe later, if that's your thing."

Buck laughs and feels a little better settling against Tommy. He's so solid and so—wow, he really could bench Buck without breaking a sweat. He really could hold him like this in bed, smelling like Buck's hair product and body wash and detergent.

He reaches tentatively and finds Tommy's hand, links them together under the sheets. Tommy grins again and his eyelashes flutter, a little slow like he's falling asleep already. "God, you're cute."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Tommy says. "And not straight, unless you want to be."

"Um. Nah. I'm good."

He's cute, Buck thinks. He is cute. He's been called cute before, but—this—he's cute. A guy thinks he's cute.

"You keep smiling like that, it's never gonna be dark enough to sleep."

"Oh, shit, I can get the blackout curtains if—"

Suddenly Tommy kisses him, more like the kitchen than the ER, now that Buck has all of two kisses with a man (this man) to compare. He's on his back and then Tommy's pressed against his side, an arm around his waist and a leg slung over one of his own. "Just push me away if this is—you know, if it's too much," Tommy says.

"It won't be," Buck says, his voice thick. He finds a place for his hand, his arm, his leg, his head practically off his pillow and on Tommy's. "This is good."

Tommy's already drifting off; Buck doesn't mind saying it again, here between them, under his breath to himself: "This is good."

[bigheartbuck]

Evan "pilot-in-law" Buckley