#young tommy kinard

[alchemistc]

(dys)functional | bucktommy bonus chapter

an: Everyone else seemed just as enamored of Evelyn Carrini as I was when I made her up, so I thought I'd piece together all the random notes app thoughts I had about her an Tommy in high school into something that wasn't a disorganized half bullet list/half snippet-fest.

read on ao3

He’s halfway through homeroom when he notices it. The whispers, the side-eyes, the covert little looks shot in his direction when they think he’s not looking. The problem is that Thomas Kinard has spent the first seventeen years of his life hyperaware any time he is the focus of someone’s attention, and now he feels like ants are crawling under his skin.

He spends the next three periods convinced he’s still got toilet paper stuck to his face where he’d nicked himself shaving, but no matter how many times he wipes a too-big hand across his face, under his chin, he’s still being stared at. It’s a weird feeling. He’s been as close to invisible as he can manage since middle school, since the first time a boy had smiled at him and Tom had wanted. Sure, he plays the sports his dad had demanded he play, and sure, he’s — moderately friendly with a few different groups, but he isn’t — he doesn’t —

Evelyn Carrini sidles up to him at the start of lunch with a keyring curling around her middle finger, perfectly manicured French tips and a plethora of plastic bands wrapped around her wrists, eyes assessing, keys jangling in the loose circle of her palm. “Buy me lunch, Kinard,” she says, and Tom — Tom follows her out to her car so she can take them through the nearby Wendy’s drive through.

His dad is ecstatic. Good grades haven’t impressed him, making the right teams hasn’t impressed him — even shedding the weight over the summer that had clung to him for years despite being active as hell hadn’t impressed him — but the first time he catches Evelyn “studying” in Tom’s room, he smacks Tom so hard on the back that he has to scramble on suddenly gangly limbs to keep his balance.

Evelyn is a cheerleader. A firecracker, according to every adult who’s ever met her, an absolute darling of Cliffside Park High, and generally well known as the nicest girl who could possibly gossip about you behind your back. Tom’s a little obsessed with her. Enough to give it a try, enough to roll around with her in the bed of her dads pickup, making out until they’re blue in the face, enough to want to spend every spare fucking moment with her.

They go to movies, and hang out at the mall with all her friends, and drink beer in the carpark behind the Sears that’d gone out of business a year and a half earlier. They hold hands in the hallways at school, and pass notes in the classes they share, and Tom meets her parents at a quiet family dinner where no one asks a single question about his novelist grandfather and his fuckup kids, or his dead mom, or the sister being raised by his aunt a township over.

Tom adores Evelyn. He does. He doesn’t even mind it that much that her nails dig into his skin when she’s got her tongue in his mouth, or that her perfume is always just a little overpowering. Evelyn is great.

Evelyn... has an excellent rack. Top notch, really — round perky breasts with rose colored nipples that are perfectly symmetrical and...right up in his face.

Evelyn squirms in his lap, and Tom knows the game is up.

He’s — maybe at half chub (He’s a teenager, sue him. Sometimes a well aimed breeze gets him hard.) Nothing to write home about, anyway, and Tom can usually explain this away, shift his hips and slow the kissing and suck at Evelyn’s neck until she gets impatient enough to shove his hand down her Spanx and let him get to work.

Tom is aware that no amount of testing the weight of Evie’s tits in his hands or sucking one of those dusky nipples between his teeth is gonna get him there.

“Are you —?” Evelyn asks, and Tom stares at her chest and tries to imagine a scenario where his dad doesn’t find out about this. His — his hands are shaking. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t drawn a breath in about forty-five seconds. “Jesus Christ, Kinard, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

Evelyn Carrini is just another dumb teenager who has no fucking idea how badly things are about to turn for him.

And then she isn’t.

“Oh my god,” she says, delight in her voice, and Tom cringes, hands curling into fists in Evie’s purple duvet as she swings off of him and scrambles for the shirt she’d tossed over the side of the bed a good twenty minutes before he’d worked up the courage to pop the clasp on her bra. “Oh my god,” she repeats as she stuffs her really very nice breasts back underneath the croptop. “Tom, can you stop having a panic attack for five fucking seconds, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Tom blinks, dazed, but it has the intended effect of forcing him to pull in three sharp breaths, drawing him right the fuck out of his swirling thoughts. He can see his own expression in the mirror over her shoulder, and is suddenly incredibly grateful they hadn’t managed to get any further. “You’re the biggest gossip I know,” Tommy snarks back, which is a terrible fucking idea when she’s just discovered the exact weapon she needs to completely obliterate him.

She cocks a hip, rolls her eyes, blows a crinkled lock of hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, dumbass, do you think the biggest gossip you know doesn’t know how to keep a secret?”

Which is a fair point, actually. In between makeouts and actual studying and bland stories about their day, she’s told him a litany of secrets that have never seen the light of day beyond their little bubble of privacy. Jerri Danvers secret abortion. The DUI Travis Evans dad had called in favors to have swept under the rug. Cheryl G cheating on her boyfriend with Cheryl K. Chris Harper selling ritalin and coke out of the mens room in D Hall.

(”What’s the difference?” he’d asked, like Evie had all the answers, and she’d rolled her eyes. Lethal, that eyeroll. “The price, idiot. Snow’s a lot easier to source.”)

It still takes him a while to really believe she won’t tell.

But she doesn’t. Week after week, game after game, party after party. He asks her to Homecoming half convinced there’s a secret plan to Carrie him in the middle of the gym, but instead she drags him into a bathroom stall in the girls room, fucks up the hair he’d spend twenty minutes slicking just right, unbuttons three buttons of his dress shirt and slips the loop of his tie around her own neck while she makes obscene noises and rattles the rickety stall wall. She kisses her bright red lipstick onto his lips and only drags him out once they have a crowd.

He carries her bookbag out to her car from her locker at the end of the day, and listens to her bitch about her older sister in med school, and lets her experiment with perming on his hair, gives the JT ramen noodle look a total of three hours before he attempts to wash it out and, failing that, brings a pair of clippers back to her place she that she can buzz all his hair off.

The make it through the holidays, and Valentines, and Tommy sends her an extravagant bouquet of flowers on her birthday, right in the middle of a pep rally, the delivery guy flummoxed as hell as every upperclassman packed on the bleachers hoots and hollers about it, and it’s not what he wants, not really, not quite, but he’d buy her flowers every day just for existing and allowing him to exist as himself for the few hours of privacy they carve out away from everyone else.

Somewhere in the early hours of dawn, three months before graduation, she finally gets him to admit that basketball star Jason Ledecky with his stupid long legs and his thick heavy Boston drawl is Tom’s exact brand of smokin’.

“You could do so much better than Jason Ledecky,” she tells him, and Tom laughs as he presses his nose into the give of her stomach.

“Also he’d beat the shit out of me for trying,” Tom says, and Evie gets the sad kind of quiet, like she does every time he skids away from talking about his dad, like she does every time he talks about his mother, quiet and soft.

“Someday it’ll be different,” Evie says, carding fingers through the hair that had grown back in time for the class picture, and Tom nods like he believes her. “Some day some guy with legs for days, with the biggest heart and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen is gonna sweep you off your feet and I’m gonna shake his fucking hand.”

Tom hums.

“And maybe show him my tits just to make sure,” she says with a gentle tug on his hair, and Tom laughs until he can’t breathe.

Tom can’t say why he doesn’t tell her The Plan. Prom comes and goes, and as graduation approaches Tom attends all the parties, sneaks up the lattice to curl up next to Evie on her bed on nights that his dad comes home smelling like he bathed in hops, settles the last of his business, packs a bag he hides far enough under his bed that even snoopy Evie wont notice.

His dad’s drunk on the day he graduates, and at the end of the ceremony, after they’ve all made a plan for a bonfire at the quarry, Tom presses a lingering kiss to the crown of Evie’s head, and while her friends all roll their eyes at Evie’s perfect boyfriend, Tom slips away, grabs the bag he’d left in his old gym locker, and he leaves.

_____

“Okay so at eighteen I’m not sure I knew there was even such a thing as bisexuality,” Evie says, sipping at her glass of wine and eyeing the half of Evan’s cheesecake he still hasn’t eaten. “And my tits aren’t what they used to be, anyway.”

Tommy and Evan both shoot her incredulous looks.

“Yeah, they’re still pretty good,” she admits around a laugh, and beneath the table, Evan’s knee knocks into Tommy’s. “You gotta admit, though, Tommy — I fucking nailed your type years before you ever did.”

Evan’s grin goes ear to ear, absolutely proving her point when he shifts to reach for the hand Tommy’s been resting on his knee for the last few minutes.

“That’s what the steak dinner was for,” Tommy tells her, and they share a look Tommy hasn’t shared with anyone in twenty years.

Evan slides the rest of his cheesecake across the table without having to be asked, and tucks himself neatly against Tommy’s side as Evie’s eyes go wide and happy.

[dadvans]

Like what’s even the point of a bucktommy break up where Buck sluts it up with men if you can’t even show them both in a dark gay bar back room getting head from other men while not being able to look away from each other

[callmebrycelee]

MAN CRUSH MONDAY

LOU FERRIGNO JR.

Louis (Lou) Jude Ferrigno Jr. was born November 10, 1984 in Los Angeles, California. The 39-year-old actor is best known for portraying SWAT team leader and decorated officer Donovan Rocker in the CBS procedure action drama television series S.W.A.T. His other TV credits include Louis in How I Met Your Mother, Deputy Haigh in Teen Wolf, Dave Lancellotti in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Officer Kramer in The Young and the Restless, Jett Masterson in Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn, firefighter Tommy Kinard in 9-1-1, Weston Wade in Old Flames Never Die, Ryan in Outer Banks, Trent in Resisting Roots, and Jackson Jacobs in Blackout. Lou is 6 feet and 2 inches tall.

[min-kit]

"I don't think Buck is attracted to Tommy" be so for real and clean those biased glasses right now.

[buckevantommy]

i've seen a lot of talk recently about the uncertainty of tommy returning for season 8 (including comparing him to buck's previous partners) and like. why are you doing that? how did you even come to that conclusion? it baffles me how little story and media comprehension some of you guys have.

everything they've done with the bucktommy storyline is setting them up to be longterm (or at the very least: together in season 8). to name a few:

tommy is the first partner buck can be himself with (not just the bi thing, but his personality and vulnerability too) and that's not something to be easily swept aside.

tommy has relationships with everyone in buck's life (the og!118 from his own history, and they made a conscious effort to give him a friendship of his own with eddie) which means he can be written into the plot independant from being buck's boyfriend.

gerrard. hen and chim have history with him but so does tommy (they brought them both back in the same season, it doesn't make sense to not include tommy in that storyline).

abc is not fox. abc made bi!buck happen whereas fox shut it down. (they wouldn't introduce such a significant relationship for a main character only to sweep him under the rug the following season; if they wanted to introduce bi!buck without a boyfriend they could have, but instead they chose to go with a meaningful relationship where the feelings are reciprocated).

the cast and crew love lou and he loves working on the 9-1-1 set and he cares about tommy and is committed to the bucktommy storyline (this is huge).

we might not get much of lou in season 8 (depending on plot and contract stuff) but we will get some of him because the narrative and the interviews from tim and the cast and the co-interview with lou and oliver tell us bucktommy is significant to buck and the show in general. even when tommy is not in an episode we'll still know buck is with him - like we know hen is with karen - and that's not nothing.

the pessimism spreading on tumblr and twitter and discord rn is unfounded imho. even when you take the shipper goggles off the evidence is clear that tommy will be back for season 8.

[god-i-hope-so]

What if Jee picks up Tommy's finger guns and does it to everyone with her little fingers and her awkward hand agility.

Chim: Jee, it's time to brush your teeth! *Jee finger guns*

Maddie: Jee, you're staying with uncle Buck today, mommy and daddy have to go somewhere. *Jee finger guns*

Buck: Jee, do you want to watch a cartoon? *Jee finger guns*

Buck to Tommy: You know she learned this from you, right? *Tommy finger guns*

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

Truly just paused in my tracks because my brain had A Thought, and that Thought is Marcus Sköld (from young royals) and Tommy Kinard (from 9-1-1) give off the same vibes. Granted, they both have very little screen time in their respective shows. They’re dismissive of their partner’s signals and verbal requests (Simon not wanting anything serious with ANYONE post-video/breakup with Wille, Buck talking about his struggle with Bobby’s near death experience while Tommy makes a daddy joke). They’re both so clearly plot devices for a different endgame ship (Wilmon, Buddie), but a few wild corners of each fandom started shipping them with their temporary love interests anyway. They don’t fit in with their partner’s inner circle (we barely ever see Marcus interact with anyone besides Simon, Tommy has bad blood with basically Buck’s entire family that knew him before the two of them met). They’re willing to take shots at their partner when they feel like they’ve been done dirty (Marcus during the ENTIRE breakup scene with Simon at the stables, Tommy making a closet joke and almost outing Buck to Eddie and Marisol bc Buck didn’t cop to being on a date the first chance he got). Neither are genuinely trying to connect to their partner, or if they are, it’s done with a marginal amount of effort (Marcus coming to the dance at Hillerska, but later berating Simon for not appreciating this effort taken enough, Tommy coming to the bachelor party for Chimney that Buck plans, but without an actual costume, and leaving as soon as everyone decides Chimney’s a no-show…unlike Eddie, who sticks by Buck’s side for literally the rest of the night).

[until-i-set-him-free]

BuckTommy in A Softer World, part 5 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[nyxenthusiast]

I can’t be the only one who thought of this

[deluweil]

What in the amount of blocked bummies tell my "for you" dash that I want more loons on my dash?

Just when I thought I blocked them all, another racist bummy rears his ugly head on my for you dash and bash Eddie, before even watching S8.

Yes, we get it you joined in for the two white males and the daddy kink joke, but for the love of God at least try to watch the entire thing before spouting crap like a racist old man with a 'stache getting along with the brown haired tanned Latino on his crew, that even if he kept his head down he would still make a handsome target if only for his skin color and slight accent.

Oh and also his last name.

All you white ppl need to just shut up and see where the wind blows, before you start to sound unobjectively racist while hating the racist captain for MAYBE picking on the one white male of the group.

And how the hell are they still only five?!

I want Ravi. But that's for another post. Probably for the best, though, for him to return after Gerrard kicks it out to early forced retirement. (De ja vu anyone?)

[silasplaskett]

really into the headcanon that tommy once had a little crush on chimney back in the day and how complementary it is in my mind to my other headcanon about bucks crush on connor

[station-118]

Can we all as a fandom agree, that Tommy Kinard is Abby’s ex-boyfriend Tommy?!

Cause like, the idea of Tommy and Buck both being Abby’s ex and now they’re dating each other is to funny to pass up!!!

[rdng1230]

writing patterns

tagged by @herrmannhalsteadproduction @desert--moonchild

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

lol I don't even have 5 (I'm just a lil fanfic author baby) but here ya go!:

“Whose genius idea was it to have a backyard ceremony in July?

Ain't That A Kick In The Head (Saltommy big ole Italian American Friends to Lovers Romcom)

“Have I told you lately that your Nonna is one of my favorite people on this planet?”

You Saw The Whole Of The Moon (A Drunken Sal crashes a Bucktommy date night in. It leads to some surprising conversations. Platonic Saltommy only btw)

“Who’s this?” Buck leaned in to look at one of the photos on Tommy’s wall.

In Bocca Al Lupo (Good Luck) (Prequel to prev, Buck meets Tommy's Nonna, Chim and Tommy form the Buckley Parents Support Group)

Dunno if we have any Young Royals fans in the house but here's my little August future fic. Next time I re-binge the series I think I might try and write that August x Sara follow up but who knows.

“I think you were right, Wille.”

That's The Last Time Anyone's Calling Me That

Ok I definitely knew I tended to start with dialogue. I've always preferred starting the story kind of in the middle of a conversation. Didn't realize how often that dialogue was a question though!

I love how every single one of the 911 ones are either about somebody's Nonna or spoken to somebody's Nonna. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I fucking love my old lady characters and you can pry them out of my cold dead hands. I gotta write something for Toni one of these days because I LOVE Marsha Warfield. Mrs. Lee too she's awesome.

I just checked my WIP's and all the rest of the first lines are dialogue too, but not questions.

NP tagging: @evansboyfriend @racerchix21 @cliophilyra

[hardly-an-escape]

I miss Tommy Kinard :(

[exhaustedpirate]

why do they make'em so goddamn loveable?!

[peapodbond]

that was us part three

sam's in the hospital. he's going to be fine, but they're recommending that he stay in the hospital for a few days just in case. abby agreed immediately, telling sam that it would give her enough time to book them flights or a car home. they'll be avoiding trains for awhile, even though abby knows that derailments are rare and if they've already been in one, they'll probably never be in another. but she'd had to call sam's daughters and tell them what was going on, and really. one phone call like that in her life was more than enough.

she needs coffee. sam's been asleep for an hour and abby's been drifting off, but her elbow keeps slipping off the arm of the chair, jolting her awake just before she can truly fall asleep. abby makes sure to let the nurses know that she's stepping out for coffee before she leaves the floor; sam is generally a heavy sleeper but she has no idea what today has done for that.

the elevator is empty when she gets on and she can feel herself drifting off again. the cafe is only three floors down; she'll probably make it there before she falls asleep on her feet.

the elevator doors open and abby startles awake. for that brief second she's waking up to find out her mom has wandered off, waking up to tommy screaming himself out of a nightmare, waking up to realize the train has gone off the tracks.

tommy's standing in the elevator doorway, blinking at her. she's too tired to know for sure if he's really there or if she's still half asleep and imagining him. abby slides to the side and pats the railing, inviting him in. he's wearing a flight suit, which is a point for him actually being there — she's never seen him in one before, has no idea how to imagine it.

he slips into the elevator just before the doors can close, looking as tired as she feels. abby tips her head back against the wall, smoothing her hands down her thighs and trying not to notice them shaking.

she's only gone down one floor.

no one gets on the elevator before they reach the cafe. tommy holds the door open for her and abby orders them both a coffee, the habit still ingrained after all these years. it's terrible coffee. it always is, in hospitals, and abby thinks that if they just brought a better roast in than people might not be in such terrible moods every time they had to come for a visit.

tommy gives her a few minutes before he starts talking, telling her about the hiker they rescued earlier who'd skidded over the edge of a cliff — to get a selfie, god, was she ever that young and silly — and that he's finally started watching downton abbey, makes her laugh when he imitates the dowager saying "what is a weekend?", tells her that he's hit his maximum flight hours for the day and is just waiting for the truck to come and get him and switch out with another pilot.

abby knows she's being handled. she recognizes the grounding technique she'd used with tommy when he had nightmares, wonders if this is going to be what finally triggers some ptsd in her. but she's still grateful for the distraction — tess and natalie are states away and asleep anyway, and she can't really see herself telling two teenagers about how scared she was their dad wasn't going to make it.

she'd begged buck to save him and he'd done it even though abby had hurt him.

(she's really never deserved everything he offered her.)

she tells tommy she was on the train. his gaze darts up to the gauze over her left eye and she shrugs, tells him that was all that happened to her. tells tommy that sam got the worst of it, that he's sleeping upstairs. they don't think that they'll have to do surgery, but they told her what to expect anyway. tells tommy no, sam isn't the firefighter but she saw him at the accident.

asks if he was one of the helicopters she saw picking up passengers all night.

they've finished their coffee. abby checks her watch and it's been half an hour. she should get back upstairs.

tommy buys the coffee this time. he gets a third cup for his partner but takes the elevator up to abby's floor, walking her back to sam's room. she doesn't doze off in the elevator this time, thank god, or she'd probably have hallucinated buck. sam's awake when they get back, and abby has the pleasure of introducing her first fiancé to her last fiancé. it's funnier than it should be, and she swallows another laugh because she's worried she might be tipping over the line from tired to hysterical.

sam stays awake long enough to say hi to tommy, but then the medication and the pain take him back under. it should probably be awkward that they're all in the same room, but it just doesn't happen. abby walks tommy back to the elevator, thanks him for keeping her company, and then.

she's not really sure why she does it.

abby waits until the doors are almost closed and tells tommy that if he wants to tell her about a boy the next time they catch up, she'd be happy to listen.

the doors close on tommy staring at her. abby waits in case tommy wants to come back up, but the doors don't immediately open again.

she heads back to sam's room.

they've got a few more days in los angeles and she's determined to tie up the rest of her loose ends.