tommy’s smile shines brightly back at buck as he promises to keep his secret.   of course,  tommy’s only teasing—   both chimney and hen are precious to him,  too,  longtime friends he’s come to trust not only in the field but as people,  too,  even if their relationships started out rocky.   he was a different person then,   working overtime to be something he wasn’t,   but something he thought he had to be just to fit in,  to be accepted,  to feel safe from the truth he was keeping even from himself.   he realized it soon after bobby came to take over,  how much freer he could be when he didn’t feel trapped.  he’s forever grateful that chimney and hen got to be a part of that love,   and he’s grateful for his small slice of it,  too—   but they’ll always be his people because of it,   and he’s glad that his relationship with evan has brought them closer again,   yet another missing piece to the puzzle of his life that he’s starting to see much clearer now,  the more he falls in love.

he chuckles,  instantly shaking his head.   ❝  wasn’t always that way,  believe me.   i mean,  you know— you’ve heard the stories.   captain nash has a way of doing that,  making people feel like they fit somewhere,  giving us a home away from home,  because,  let’s face it,  we spend more time there,  ❞   he says with a small scoff,  but he’s not resentful of that fact.  he likes his job,  and he’s always liked the time away from home— until now,  at least,  now that he has someone special to share his time with.  ❝  i’m really glad he was your first captain.   and not just because of his cooking,  ❞   he adds with a teasing grin.  

tommy raises a brow,  pretending as if he’s hesitant to believe him— but of course he does.  especially if he learned from captain nash,  and especially with the way evan looks up to him,  tommy knows that he’s likely telling the truth.   ❝  if he trusts you,  i've got no reason to doubt you,  ❞    he settles on,  flashing back a teasing grin.   ❝  we'll work on the knives, though. ❞

he hums,  thinking it over for a long moment before nodding his head as he looks down to their knees together.   ❝  I look forward to seeing you prove it,  ❞    he says,   eyes drifting back up to his —   and it's clear this is not a challenge,  but rather an anticipation,  because regardless,  he's going to have fun with him,  and that's all that really matters to him.

buck's touch is comforting,   tommy's head easily turning to look at him as his gaze softens,  full of adoration.  there's still so much for them to learn about each other,  so much for tommy to keep falling in love with,  even a past that he's not proud of  —  because it seems they have that in common,  both coming from a place when who they are was something they were still desperate for figure out for themselves.    ❝  no?  ❞   he asks,  letting out a small sigh.   ❝  I suppose the 118 has that effect on people,  doesn't it?  ❞    he hums,  bringing his hand to buck's arm and gently brushing his fingertips over his skin.   ❝  what about now?   do you think you're your best self?  ❞   he asks,  because he's already decided for himself that whatever version of buck this is,  it's one he likes and respects very much.

he grins back at him,  his shoulders relaxing at the way his thumb brushes over him.   ❝  I am.   and I don't plan on going anywhere,  either.  ❞    he pauses,  allowing his grin to grow to something more playful,  even if his words are true.   ❝  hope that's okay with you.  ❞

"well, i'm glad you agree," buck mumbles, half-dazed as he studies tommy's smile, gaze landing, as ever, on the dimple of his chin, and he wonders quietly, how did i get so lucky? buck doesn't like to think about how easily none of this could be happening: a simple no from tommy to meet him for coffee, and they wouldn't be here, tommy's smile shining bright like the sun, the mere sight of him enough to transform buck's post-shift exhaustion into something electric pulsing just behind his ribcage, like a second heartbeat reserved only for these moments with him. buck's undoubtedly felt loved before, safe in relationships (even those that ended bittersweet), but there's something about the way tommy looks at him that quiets the typically-unceasing fear that this will inevitably end - maybe it's how patient the man is, so relentlessly understanding, or maybe it's just the way he says buck's name, making evan seem less a burden and something that buck can answer to with pride.

he doesn't like to think about it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't, and every time he does, buck feels another surge of gratitude - and the burning determination to continue to prove himself as worthy of that second chance.

"your secret's safe with me, babe," buck says in a stage-whisper, winking as he does so, enjoying the easy way the pet name rolls from his tongue. he's tried out a dozen, from baby to sweetheart to even darling on occasion (primarily after movie nights, where they've watched some british man that buck doesn't recognize woo an unequally unknown woman with the very same term), but babe's the one that he always seems to default to; and it doesn't seem that tommy minds it. "you know, i remember being confused as hell, showing up to the 118 and there's just this - spread of food. like, all of that?" he waves with his hand, the memory so clear in his mind that buck can visualize it before him, and he grins at the recollection of bobby smiling at him, welcoming him to their family. how precious a thing it is, to be accepted.

it's a feeling he wants to ensure tommy experiences at all times - even now, when buck arches his brow in mock offense, mouth falling open, a scoff scraping along his tongue. "i'll have you know, bobby trusts me implicitly in that kitchen. well - except for when it comes to dessert. and he does yell at me for never putting the knives back properly, allegedly-" buck tilts his head, as if challenging tommy to suggest that bobby's right (and he most likely is; buck's cleanup method is far from effective). "but, i think you'll find, kinard, that i'm almost as good as captain nash. of course, no one will admit to that, but i know the truth." but he accepts the offer - of course he does. anything that means they'll be spending time together. buck acknowledges this by bumping his knee against tommy's, laughing a little breathlessly as he nods eagerly, unable to contain the unconcentrated joy that floods his system at knowing that tommy does want to spend time at the station, with him, his family - because, although for the most part, these parts of his life, of him, have merged seamlessly together, this is the final bridge to close the gap.

and then there's the what if, still lingering. buck's smile falters slightly, expressing softening to something contemplative as he considers tommy's words. and though he tries, he still struggles to envision a version of tommy that isn't this: confident, so certain of himself. it makes his chest ache momentarily, dull and deep, with the briefest twinge of regret that his own discovery had been so simple, in comparison - but he knows that's not what tommy wants from him. he offers instead two fingers gripping at tommy's chin, a ghost of the first touch that had pulled buck into this new life, holding tommy's gaze as buck says, "i wasn't exactly my best self when i first showed up at the 118." would tommy have changed him? ignited the same feelings in him? buck thinks he would've, that it'd only take a singular look to unravel him - but there's little use in the prolonged wondering. not when they have something now, so warm and beautifully real. buck can hold it, him, in his hands - and that's all that really matters.

"i don't know about deserve," buck replies, a soft clicking sounding in his throat as he swallows, "but i'm grateful anyway. that you're here now." his fingers twitch, hand shifting until he's cupping tommy's jaw, thumbing along the soft fuzz of fresh stubble, and it makes his fingers feel like they're on fire in the best way.

leo had been waiting for this moment for a long time now.  it took him a decade to finally start seeing a path forward without his wife,  and he took a chance on lyla,  reminding himself that it was okay to move on,   to experience love the way he once did.   she lied to him,  betrayed him,  used him–    but he refused to let her set him back.  she’d already taken enough from him,  all while trying to take so much more,  and he couldn’t let her sour his intuition or his trust in other people.   he could still love again,   he could trust again,  he could believe that there was more out there than people to lose and people who only wish to hurt his family.   he knew from the moment he met garrett that he was good,  and all too quickly,  it was clear he could be someone leo would love  (  his kids, too, already met with their approval,  something he’s so grateful to have the chance to get, now, and he’s not wasting it, finally allowing himself to give in to this pull he’s always felt with the other man.  ) 

as their lips meet,  leo's hand slides up garrett's arm,  resting gently to his neck before it slowly eases its way up,  cupping his cheek hesitantly.  his body freezes only for a moment before he's melting into the kiss comfortably,  both as if they've done this millions of times and as if this is the first time.   it makes him smile into the kiss,  nearly threatening to break it,  but he refuses,  melting into his touch instead,  body pulled into his as he tugs him closer.  he’s amused,  and flattered,  so much so that he can’t help the soft chuckle that slips from his lips as they part.  

❝  oh, garrett—  ❞   he mumbles softly,  humming as his head tilts back just enough to get a good look at him.  the hand on his cheek slides down to rest on his shoulder,  the other perched against his waist gently.   ❝  i’m a scientist,  ❞   he reminds him,  raising a brow to taunt.  ❝  i pride myself on being thorough,  ❞   he insists,  his grin growing for a moment before he leans back in, pressing his lips to garrett’s once more.

time seems so nonexistent now. there's shadows shifting around them, evidence of the sun drifting through the sky - but this moment is suspended, like a bug in amber, the brushing of their skin and the uncertain breaths searing into garrett's memory. he wants to be able to recall every second: the songs of the birds flitting through the sky, the pressure of leo's palm against his back, the anticipation he can almost taste in that sliver of distance. it's like a feast to a starving man: so much, so overwhelming, and he wants it all.

garrett lingers only a moment longer in the expectation before making it a reality, finally: after so long of tip-toeing around, testing the water in the shallow end, he dives in, his mouth catching leo's with a noise of exaltation breathed into him: quiet, but by no means unenthusiastic. it's not the gentle kiss he'd imagined a dozen times over, though not for a lack of trying; garrett briefly attempts chivalry, the image of chaste affection in his mind, really - but it's easy to forget, blinked away without a second thought once there's actually contact. his fingers untangle from the fabric of leo's shirt, two digits expertly hooking into his belt loops to keep him in place; the other hand trembles atop leo's shoulder.

it doesn't seem to end when it ends; as garrett breaks away, a sharp intake of air sounding loudly, his mouth is only an inch from leo's, and as he inhales, his top lip brushes leo's lower one. it evokes a smile, bright and brimming and so full it touches his eyes, creased and lidded, a glimmer in them like he's tipsy.

"...was that romantic enough for you?" his tone is teasing, but bursting with affection. garrett kisses the corner of leo's mouth, glances upward through his eyelashes, and continues, "or do i need to try again?"

might be silly and add 3 movie muses. nobody move

aaron starts to smile,  amused,  curious himself to know how ellie might’ve put it.   ❝  well,  she is quite the storyteller,  isn’t she  .  .  .    ❞   he trails off,  his brow raising as he imagines it for a moment before finally chuckling and shaking his head.   ❝  well,  i suppose that story might be  a fun one to tell her when she’s much, much older.   a lesson of sorts,  really,  ❞   he says with a grin.   ❝  but for now—   i told her that you and the kid,  you were looking for a home,  even if you didn’t know it.   you two were brave,  you stood your ground,  you were careful,  but you and i both know well enough how to read people.  isn’t a lie, really,  ❞   he points out, raising a brow.  ❝  i imagine talking you down with a gun to my head might be a good lesson for her someday.   for now,  i’ll just say we called a truce without the weapons,  ❞   he teases.

it drags an honest laugh out of him. ' we almost killed each other ' is as good as the world had to offer to them. they knew it before, and they saw the it fall apart, for a long time before it re-built into something new from its debruis — but grace's world was still good, and joel wanted ellie to get a chance to forget everything she'd had to go through. he spares a quick glance for aaron, still holding crossed arms to the chest, although he's more than relaxed now, at ease. this isn't joel trying to shield and keep everyone at arms length... that hasn't been him in a long, long time. ❛ —good thing she asked ya 'nd not ellie, ❜ there's still time. smile grows bigger. there's so much time. ❛ whatddya say, though? how did we meet? ❜

Chloe Van Landschoot as KRISTI MILLER FROM ━ 2x06 "Pas De Deux"

I don’t wanna be who everybody thinks I am here.

emoji meme | @michaelmercer​ sent 😊💙 ↳ SILAS PLASKETT ©

rewatching 911 has me in my feelings about s.asha's modern day firefighter verse and the way lucy approaches her rescues is very sashacoded to me:

"She should have died. Nine times out of ten, I don't catch her. Or I don't see her in time, I don't move fast enough. Or I grab her and she slips through, and she takes me with her." [Wait, you're obsessing over things that didn't happen?] "I'm trying to figure out how I should have saved her in a way that doesn't involve luck. So I'm ready for next time."

alden’s patient,  just as he is with anyone,  because even the simplest questions aren’t always ones any of his customers want to be asked.  and he respects that, too—  but he also wants to give them someone to talk to, if needed, no matter how much of a nuisance it can be some nights.  never with him,  nor with his usual companions,  though—  which is why he hopes to give him some kind of comfort,  in whatever form he may need,  because alden’s perceptive enough to understand that something’s on his mind,  whether or not he wishes to speak on it.

he scoffs,  a charming grin on his features as he waves him off.  ❝  s’pose not,  but i’m choosin’ to,  anyway,  huh?  ❞   he asks,  raising a brow back at him as he hopes that reassures him.    he’s intrigued as buck goes on, softly humming as he thinks it over.   ❝ i can see that, ❞   he notes,   having paid enough attention to him to gather that he’s someone who does like to talk,  to anyone from friends to strangers.   ❝  you bartend for a long time?  ❞   he asks,  many more questions arising after as he wonders how he got from there to where he is now.   

alden’s hands rest against the counter as he looks to the seats next to buck.  after a moment,  he lets out a small sigh,  looking back to him.  ❝ well,  doesn’t have to be totally alone,  ❞    he insists,  reaching for his own glass of water behind the bar,  a playful grin tugging at his lips.   ❝  sure,  water on the rocks may not be quite the same thing,  ❞    he teases,  lifting his glass up.   ❝  but you’ve got my company,  anyway,  for whatever it's worth, ❞   he assures,   glancing behind him.  it’s a quiet night in the bar, anyway, so keeping his focus on buck is easy.   ❝ — plans fall through?  ❞

he doesn't want to be that guy: the kind of guy who sits at a bar and mopes, nursing a beer like a wound and stiff with misery as he off-loads to the poor guy on the other end of the counter just trying to get through a shift. he's got a handful of memories of being the guy on the other side, and that's usually enough to dissuade him - but there's also the fact that there's typically some buffer - in the form of hen or chimney or eddie - to stave off the loneliness, and suddenly buck can't help but feel the emptiness of the stool next to him as if it's a black hole slowly pulling him in. he shifts uneasily against it, as if it really is some tangible thing, and for a moment the chill of the bottle's condensation isn't comforting, and he's not quite certain what to do with his hand or himself; buck just sits, mouth pursed, as if in quiet contemplation.

it's a pose that lasts for only a beat, however, as buck's expression shifts to a slight grimace while he allows himself a mouthful of beer, the drink more of an excuse not to answer immediately than for any desire for it - but it's really a rouse that can last for only so long. eventually, he must pull the bottle away, and he finally does with a good amount of the beer gone: there's the near-immediate sensation of regret ballooning in his chest as buck sets the bottle on a nearby coaster.

"just 'cause it's your job doesn't mean you gotta do it," buck points out. it's said in a tone as if he's imparting some sage advice. he raises a hand slightly, gestures between the two of them. "i mean, when i bartended - i was always too busy talking to notice when customers needed a refill." wistfulness spills into his tone, and there's a moment where buck's eyes are glassy, distant - before a sharp peal of laughter and the beginnings of a country song begin to pour from the corner jukebox and snap him from his reverie.

"but - um." he clears his throat decisively, gives a slight, dismissive (but not at all convincing) shake of his head. "no, i'm fine. really. i just... didn't expect to be drinking alone."

i always come back to my kj b.randman feelings eventually but since i still don't know how to make writing her make sense i'm projecting her onto hope. thinking about how she always knew something was different about her but never could figure it out. she saw her future self kiss a girl and she started to panic because it's such a shock and it's not what she was expecting and then a few moments later - it makes sense. it's finally the clarity she was seeking for so long (despite being so young, too, but just as perceptive of herself even though she couldn't get there exactly). she doesn't know who she is yet, she feels lost, she feels like something's missing and she can't put her finger on it but then she sees her older self - happy, thriving, more sure of herself than she ever believed she could be. and suddenly it's easy to accept because it's her. her older self feels like another person entirely yet it also feels exactly like her (something more to be said about the fact that kj never actually addresses her personally because she doesn't want to break that barrier and lose her own identity / the journey she's about to go on but i'm getting away from the point).

back to hope - the way kj approaches the truth from her future self's girlfriend really feels so hope-esque.

[okay, so what did you think of it?] um, you know, at first, I was kind of confused. but then I just... I don't know, I stopped thinking about it so much... and I listened to the music and watched what was on the screen, and it was really beautiful. [it's a movie that you cannot come at logically. you just have to let the experience wash over you.] when did you know? um... just, uh... when did you know... that you were someone who liked... movies? um, ones like these. I mean, how did you know that you were someone who felt this way about... [the good news is that everybody moves at their own pace. and it can be overwhelming, but every person's journey is different, you know? and... a lot of people are not gonna understand at first, but... you find a movie that you really connect with and it feels really, really, really, really, really great. you just try to listen to that.]

this feels like a conversation that hope would have with will. maybe felix because they are closer by the time she no longer has huck to rely on + after everything that happens in season 2, but hope is just not someone who is going to come out directly and say it. or even notice it herself until it's shoved right in her face. and there's something special to me about her finding comfort in the man that her brother has fallen in love with + married who sees him for exactly who he is and is so comfortable in that that makes hope feel closer to herself + to her own truths.

“I think Hope is starting to see things a little bit more openly. The way that she would see it before would be like, ‘What the hell is the point of anything? Why are we even trying?’ And then the way that Elton spoke up in Season 1 to her about everything, it was such a positive way of looking at it. It’s like when kids find out about the idea of dying. Some parents are able to frame it in a way where it’s like, ‘This isn’t something that you should be scared of. It happens to everybody and it’s just the way of life.’ I think that’s similar to Elton’s philosophy on life. I think in Season 2, Hope’s starting to see that with everything that’s going on, there is a glimmer of hope. So she’s decided to look at this scientifically, and not be a cynic anymore. I was so happy when that change happened with her character! There are so many people who look at life that way: ‘What’s the point? You’re just going through the motions.’ Even playing Hope, I definitely had a little bit of that mentality for a while. When you play someone for so long it can really leave a mark on you. So I was like, ‘If negative Hope can be more positive, I think I can be more positive too.’” ©

Alexa Mansour as HOPE BENNETT TWD: World Beyond | Every Season 2 Episode

tommy's head tilts to the side,  reflecting on his words.  he understands their time together has given buck a certain kind of clarity,   a similar kind that tommy once discovered on his own,   without the help of a man as sweet and gentle as buck,  he wishes that the tommy he was a few years ago would know that someday,  it was all going to turn out okay.   he's more sure of himself now than ever,   left to reminiscence on the days in which he couldn't comprehend the push and pull constantly battling in his mind,  but grateful to have made it out on the other side,  thriving,  amazed by all he closed himself off to for so long.   he's glad to be buck's companion through it all,  but he does wonder if his own presence in his life has helped him more than even tommy realizes,  just as buck's has helped tommy.  

❝  I suppose we have,  ❞   he says,  smiling back at him softly.  he's always tried to give buck the chance to express his feelings,  to discuss whatever it is that's on his mind,  even if it's just exploring these new feelings.   tommy isn't thrown off by it—  not even on their first date,  when it was clear that buck wasn't entirely ready for that step.  it wasn't something he could ever hold against buck;  he just wanted him to go about it on his own time,  forever grateful that he still ended up back in tommy's presence,  asking for another chance,  assuring him that's still what he wanted.   tommy was relieved,  and he still is,  because there was never a doubt in his mind that giving him that chance was going to be good for him.  it still is.

his face lights up at the mention of bobby's family dinners,  something tommy has grown to miss more than he ever could have imagined.   he remembers the first time bobby suggested them,  how it threw tommy off and he wondered how long it could even last.   yet,  they were some of the best times he shared with the crew he was with then,  and it brought them closer together,  all while giving tommy plenty of tips on cooking that he still uses today.  

❝  mm—   ❞   he starts,  taking a deep breath in,  pretending as if he's smelling captain nash's cooking again.  ❝  don't tell howie or hen,  but I think the meals are what I miss most about that place,  ❞    he jokes with a charming grin,  letting out a soft sigh as he thinks it over.   ❝  if you think so—   sure.  I'd like that.  —    does captain nash still supervise you, at least?   ❞   he asks with a soft chuckle,  giving his hand a squeeze to show he's only teasing.   ❝   tell you what,  ❞    he says,  turning his body more towards him again.   ❝  I join the 118 for family dinner one of these days.   and then,  someday,  you and i—    we compare notes.   cook together.   see what the two of us have learned from cap,  ❞   he says,  beaming even brighter now,  because the idea of sharing something intimate like that feels like the perfect kind of date night with someone like buck.

he sits back slightly,  thinking over his words for a long moment,  because it's not a simple answer.  a grin tugs at his lips when buck mentions the 'we' of it all,  and he looks him.   ❝  I don't like to think about my regrets.  sure,  I've thought a lot about what my life would have turned out to be if I stayed.  I like to think I would've gotten to where I am eventually.  before I left,  I was a lot closer to figuring out who I was.  maybe captain nash and the crew there made it feels comfortable enough to get there.  sure,  of course I think about that.  ❞

his shoulders shrug before he goes on.   ❝  but I think I needed something new at the time.   I needed to challenge myself in new ways,  and doing that,  it helped me be the man I am today.   I'm  .  . .    disappointed,  sure,  that I didn't get the chance to see what the 118 became after I left.  but I'm also grateful for the things I've accomplished since.  you're not the only one wondering, though, evan,  ❞   he admits,  his nose crinkling with a smile.  ❝  but,  as much as I'd love more time with you,  I'm afraid I wouldn't have been ready for you then.  I wasn't my best self yet,  and you—   you would've deserved more than that.  ❞   he likes to think he is now, though, and he hopes that he can give buck everything he deserves now.

he could be called worse - and buck has. stubborn once would've grated at his ego, a lifetime ago; now, buck can't help but feel pride swell in his chest, more than eager to concede the point. he is stubborn. he doesn't give up. it's equally as much a curse as a blessing, but in his line of work - he likes to believe it's more of a positive. and tommy doesn't seem to mind: buck's still working him out, decoding his little smiles and touches, but in the time they've spent together, he's certain he knows him enough to understand it's affection that tommy says the word with.

and he'll take it.

and he'll take all of this, too: every ounce of physical affection he can get. there's the faint sensation of self-consciousness that tugs on his sleeve every now and again in moments like this, like a child desperate for buck's attention - but tommy always matches him in stride, and it's near impossible to concentrate on anything but him: the broadness of his palms, and how completely they engulf buck, the warmth of him as he invites buck closer with a simple touch. he could stay like this forever, he thinks with a smile, and there's a moment where he imagines tommy does come back to the 118, and all the shared touches and looks that'd come on shifts: no more waiting for windows where their schedules miraculously align for days off.

but he knows it wouldn't work. there's most likely some guideline about fraternizing within houses, and he's certain hen or chimney would be more than willing to recite it at every passing glance between them. besides - there is something about the anticipation of seeing tommy again that he likes. there's always the chance they'll encounter another on a call, too, and that always sends a thrill up buck's spine.

that guy's incredible. buck feels his throat tighten, a slight pressure building in his chest that he has to force himself to release: the exhale is sharp, clipped, accompanied by the faint sting that preludes tears. once, disagreement would be instantaneous, mind rebelling against such a heavy compliment, feeling the weight of it immensely; he'd feel undeserving of such praise, especially from a mouth so sweet. but - buck accepts it now: allows it to wash across him like a gentle wave lapping at the shore and he wants nothing more in that moment than to kiss tommy like they do in all the romcoms he loves, messy and needy - but the urge is suppressed, for now, buck instead nodding sheepishly, a silent promise made to ensure he continues to live up to the words: to be worthy of tommy's approval.

"well, i guess we've both helped each other out a bit, then." an understatement. tommy gave buck a piece of himself he hadn't fully realized was missing; its absence is obvious now, looking back, and there's always the possibility he'd have eventually discovered it himself, but he's grateful it was tommy. and it's gratifying to know buck's returned the favor, in some form at least.

"you know," he starts. buck licks his lower lip, slides his hand down tommy's arm until it's circling his wrist again, buck's thumb sensing the pulse that beats there, begins to breathe in rhythm to it. "they're glad to have you around again, too. i bet bobby would love for you to drop by family dinner at the firehouse." buck laughs breathlessly, before proudly adding: "i help him cook these days. if that's any incentive." he doesn't really offer a chance for an immediate answer, however, buck kissing him fully then, softly but with a quiet intensity; his eyes are still closed as he breaks away.

"so... you don't regret it?" he ask, a half-dazed, fully content mumble. buck's not sure why he poses the question now - but it's out now, and his curiosity burns. "leaving the 118, i mean. i guess it was a good thing for you, but... i don't know." his eyes flutter open, focusing lazily on tommy. "sometimes i wonder, you know, if we could've met earlier, if you'd stayed... a lot of what ifs, i guess."

being here has turned her into something new —  a monster,  she's sure the people assume,  and after what she did to the only person who had ever truly been there for her before,  she can't blame them.  but it's more than that,  too;  this place has taken her body and turned it into a weapon,  just just for other people,  but against herself,  too.   sara had lost so much control since before she ever stepped foot in this place,  and it seems she only keeps losing more,  the only solution for her to stay away,  even if it means submitting to her own death.

maybe that would be better for everyone.  better for her, too.

the fear is written all over her body;   it's in her eyes as they stare back at him as if he's a threat,   in the quiver of her lips,  in the trembling of her hands.   her shoulders are slumped in an attempt to make herself smaller,  yet arms spread out,  on guard,   because she has seen firsthand what they do to people who are perceived as a threat,  and she doesn't know why buck is the only one who's followed her out here,  she just assumes that he's here to assure the others that sara won't be their problem anymore.  if that's the case,  she'd rather die alone,  submit to this forest and finally let it take over her body the way it seemed so desperate to already.   she'd been desperate silence those voices,  to believe that if she just followed it's order,  they could all finally move forward,  but that plan has backfired now,  leaving her entirely alone,  and more lost than ever.

❝  there's nothing to figure out,  ❞   she mumbles, her voice shaking, like she's already decided.   running towards the woods was a death sentence,  especially if she had no way or reason or even chance to turn back,  but how could she ever face anyone again,  especially ethan's parents?   she can't even look buck in the eye,  her own eyes focused on the ground below instead.   

she fidgets as he takes a step closer,  her blood-soaked hand clenching into a fist at her side now,  and her eyes start to move closer to his,  still hesitant.  ❝  no.  I'll stay.  you should go back,  ❞   she says quietly,  like it's obvious,  her head shaking slowly.  ❝  you're not safe.  ❞    whether she means from the forest or from her,  she's not sure.  both, probably, and she knows what happens either way:   the town will blame her for losing buck, too, and he doesn't deserve the same fate as her brother.   ❝  please,  ❞  she pleads,   finally allowing her eyes to meet his —  and as soon as they do,  tears form again,  her jaw clenching as she takes a moment.   ❝  I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me.  ❞

@doomdays: they can’t hurt me. there’s no one left that i love. (sara + buck)

there's enough daylight beyond the canopy of trees that panic hasn't yet set in, but buck can feel the faintest whisper of it against his neck, like a long-gone ghost of a touch. instinct had him running after her into the woods, adrenaline thudding in his ears like a second heartbeat; it pulses in his veins still, heavy and unyielding, but there's enough clarity now that he feels the slightest tinge of regret - but it's only just there. it'd been the right thing to do. snatches of boyd's conversation with jim and tabitha had carried to buck as he'd left the barnyard (if she's not back, then it's taken care of), and the image of it had burst in his vision like a supernova: sara, torn apart among the trees, lost forever.

she doesn't deserve that.

buck lifts a hand, palm up, as if in surrender; bobby'd schooled him in the basics of hostage negotiation, should any of them ever have to take on that part on a call, and the first piece of advice had been that: keep your hands in the open. never seem a threat. though there's still blood wet and dripping on her hands, buck doesn't believe she'd hurt him, but he follows the protocol instilled in him regardless: voice soft as he speaks, firm, but understanding. "hey, come on." the plea is quiet, desperate. buck heaves a heavy sigh. "look, i can't understand what you're feeling, but - come on, sara. i'm here. and i can help you figure this out."

even to him, it sounds stupid; there's no undoing this, no going back. but he hates how the hopelessness tastes in his mouth, hates the anguish he sees in her face.

"let's just... let's find somewhere to stay for the night, all right? we don't have to go back to town. there's hiding places all over, isn't there?" carefully, he chances a step forward, leaves crunching beneath a heavy boot, buck attempting a smile the entire time, but it's so sad. "i'm here," he says again. "okay? and i'm not going anywhere."

TJ MIKELOGAN'S HALLOWEEN 2023 EVENT Day 28: Favorite Final Girl ◆ SAM CARPENTER ft. "The Final Girl Support Group" by Grady Hendrix

his eyes narrow in on him for a moment,  wondering what he’s up to,  but he’s too amused to do anything but let out a soft chuckle,  entirely endeared by him.   ❝  your friends did say you were stubborn,  ❞   he notes,  speaking casually,  but the corner of his lips curl into a grin again and he can't hold the smile back.  ❝  okay.  I'll budge.  your choice then,  evan.  choose whatever you'd like to see me in. ❞

tommy didn't mean for the emotional shift,  but he learned early on that evan would be someone easy to talk to,  especially about something like this,  so it comes naturally.  his eyes close as he focuses on the warmth of his lips pressed to his jaw,  the smile forming on his lips once more and a soft sigh leaving them as he feels their noses brush.   his eyes open slowly to look back at him,  his hand gently brushing down his arm.  he start to hum,  looking back to him with intrigue.  the way he speaks of the place is beautiful,  and it's something he's still envious of—   because he's never really found something just like that,  even though he's certainly found better than what he's experienced before.  he's happy that buck found it, though—   it's obvious to tommy that it greatly shaped the person he is today,  and there's a reason that tommy was so willing to put his own job at risk based solely on a hunch from hen.   he believes in all of them,  he respects all of them,  and he's glad he could help them bring their captain home. 

 ❝  I'm honored to be a part of that,  ❞   he tells him,  his gaze drifting across buck's features for a moment.   ❝ and I’m glad you are who you are today—   because that guy's incredible.  you feel like home to me, too,  ❞   he says sweetly, thinking back to all of his relationships before—  certainly nothing like this.   he's been out for years now,  but he's never quite had a relationship like this one,  something so real,  like it can last.  he feels honored just to know him,  to be a part of the world that he speaks of so greatly.  it's no wonder buck's friends and family look at him the way they do. 

he lets out a light chuckle,   because it's not entirely realistic.  he can't go back to the station—    but he can be a part of these people's lives in a way that he almost was once upon a time.  nights out with hen, chim, and bobby were special to him, and they played a big role in helping him figure out who he was.  he wonders if buck's lived through the same experience, too.   his hand drags up buck's arm,   fingers burying in his hair as he keeps him close,  the feeling of his nose against his cheek so warm and comforting.  like home, just as he said.    ❝   being with you, evan, it's brought me back to people I'd been away from for far too long, ❞   he admits,  shaking his head slightly,  though not enough to disrupt buck's lean against his head.   ❝  you've already brought me back to the 118,  at least in some way.  I'm grateful for that.  grateful that it's you. ❞

"mhm..." buck hums in faux contemplation, brow arching for the briefest of moments before he says, decisively and with a laugh, "no. no choice, kinard." in truth, he's left a small collection of clothing at tommy's place already, hoping he'll happen upon one of the tees or hoodie earmarked BUCKLEY and either wear it consciously or without really noticing; either way, buck would. it's a thought that sends a thrill down his spine, excitement that can't be contained to within; sometimes, he feels as if he's going to burst with it, and he doesn't understand how one person can contain so much joy.

or how one person can be the source of it.

but tommy is. buck rolls his neck as he looks him over, hyperaware of the shift in his inflection, and able to meet it in kind; though he's still smiling, it's softer now, reflective, and buck recalls what tommy had said on that (disastrous) first date: the 118 was a regressive place. he can't imagine its rooms ever being cold, absent the smell of bobby's cooking, hen's laughter as she beats chim and eddie at whatever game they're playing while awaiting an alarm - but he's heard enough of the stories from tommy and chimney and hen to understand what it'd been like. and it hurts to know any of them experienced that.

buck shifts closer to tommy, loosing his grip on his hand only so he can press his palm to the man's jaw instead; the kiss buck offers is chaste, warm against tommy's cheek, and he brushes their nose together before edging back enough to be able to meet his gaze again. his voice is a soft whisper when he says, "i want you to wear it proudly, too." he swallows, clears his throat carefully. "it's the first place i ever felt... home. and, to be honest... it's how i feel with you." buck's hand drifts, rests atop tommy's shoulder; he remembers how it'd trembled there during that first kiss, uncertain of itself, but now, all of that trepidation is gone: he touches tommy with confidence, a boldness he'd never have discovered without him.

"you have a place with the 118," he continues. "and, no, i'm not saying you should jump ship, come back to us... but. you know." eyes cut down sheepishly, and buck's slightly embarrassed by the sudden inability to formulate his thoughts - lost on how, exactly, to tell tommy what he feels. so, instead of words, he settles with nuzzling his nose against tommy's cheek, breathing against him, allowing himself, for this moment, to just be.

his shoulders start to relax as buck’s hand meets his wrist,   and he’s getting used to this,  the way they seem to fit with one another,  how natural it is for their hands to find the other any time, any way.  ❝  doesn’t sound like i get a choice in that,  i'm guessing?  ❞   the grin he gives him makes it obvious he doesn’t mind.  

he raises a brow, amused by the idea— mostly,  because he’s endeared by him,  the blush on his features making him all the more attractive.   ❝  you stole mine.  it’s only fair i get my own choice too, right?  ❞    he teases,  his thumb brushing against buck’s finger as he starts to hum.   ❝  you wear the 118 proudly.  ❞   he’s more serious now, but his gaze is still full of affection,  because it means a lot to him, knowing how much love and care and respect buck experiences  at the 118,  unlike anything tommy knew back when he was there.   ❝  it’s not lost on me how sweet it is,  seeing you grin like that wearing the 217.  ❞    because it’s a symbol for him,  an indication that he’s part of his world now,  and he can’t help but let his eyes drift back down,  reminding himself how good that feels.   

he could re-enact in excruciating detail howie's exact reaction - it's all seared into his head, brotherly teasing that made buck go the exact shade of fire engine red, like a teenager caught with their first hickey. instead, buck only laughs, his fingers wrapping delicately around tommy's wrist, keeping his hand close, palm over his heart, which stammers and stutters, as always, in his presence; a sensation that'd once prompted anxiety but now, buck finds soothing. it feels normal. all of this does; not just their hands, their eyes that can never seem look away once they're locked, but the way tommy's shirt fits him so snugly, too.

"well, i'm glad you think so, 'cause i'm definitely keeping it." buck leans forward in his seat, squeezes tommy's hand as he feels another rush of warmth flooding into his face. "and, hey, i can always give you one of mine. give chim a chance to make fun of you for a change."

he’s never been out of kansas city—  at least,  not like this.  he prided himself on knowing that place well enough to get him anywhere he needed,   but this a whole new world for him,  his eyes full of wonder with each step they take.   there’s a sense of pride in knowing that he’s managed to get sam out of the city,  because it was no place for a kid to grow up.   it wasn’t one for him, either, but his mother did the best she could, and henry’s trying to do the best he can for all of them,  even if he hasn’t always been proud of the routes he’s forced to take.  there’s still so much to fear, so many things that could go wrong on their journey,  but it’s easy to trust a man like joel after what he and his kid had done for him and his.  

his eyes follow his,  back to ellie and sam,  his features warming with a smile.   ❝  can’t get tired of hearing ‘em laugh, though,  ❞   he admits,  because when he hears that from sam,  it comforts him,  reminds him that henry’s doing okay,  despite all the setbacks.  he brings his attention back to joel and hums softly.   ❝  you run into a lot of raiders out here?  guess i don't really know what to expect from this point. ❞

there's a familiarity in the rawness of the palm of his hands; guns, shovels, steering wheel — all the things that come in contact that make him forget how he scratches the inside of his skin when he's stressed with own nails. he's doing it right now, as they speak.. as @doomdays speaks — or joel thinks he does. he's not listening, he hasn't been paying attention to anything more than what distinct noises the kids make. maybe to be alert, to recognize if their yelps are for help or if they're bringing back old joy he's been all but unused to hear.

❛ so.. we gotta avoid here and here — ❜ he points to a map he thinks he knows, interrupting... maybe. maybe henry had been waiting for him to intervene. there's so much he's still needs to assimilate. ❛ if we stay off the road, here— maybe we can get to wyoming without raiders hearing the caravan—.. ❜ his head tilts to the side, pointing to their kids laughing.

❝  she's too curious for her own good, you know. ❞ he looks across the room, to where his daughter is showing ellie her latest drawings, his smile growing instantly as he's warmed by the way his family's grown. ❝  just yesterday, she asked me how the two of us met, ❞ he says, eyes drifting back to @pro26ctor before he starts to let out a soft laugh. ❝  hey, don't worry, i think i'll spare her that one. 'we almost killed each other' doesn't exactly make for a good bedtime story. ❞