#Bobby is a complete stranger to her and she hates his guts

[sewellsheart]

Introducing Agent Mallory Crane, President of the Specialist Agent Morgan fan-club and she doesn’t even know it :)

I used these meikers! x | x

[solllaris]

boys like you — bobby mckenzie. 

summary: despite only knowing him for a week, it never entered fallon’s mind that bobby might not be as genuine of a guy as she thinks he is. but that’s before the mean tweets challenge and now her mind is completely consumed with thoughts of him being a player. 

pairing: bobby/mc, mentions of bobby/lottie

word count: 2424

note: i cannot even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts just collecting dust. but!! the release of s3 really gave me the inspiration to finally finish it and after some editing i’m pretty proud of it! pleeease go easy on me b/c it is my first bobby fic so if he’s ooc please tell me and i’ll work on it. anyway i hope you guys like it!! :)

The strings of words on the page before her blurred together as her mind continued to drift. She was stuck in a never ending cycle of rereading the same lines over and over again, her brain never quite able to comprehend their meaning. The unwarranted, dangerous thoughts seared through her as her eyes, once again, shifted to the gentle lapping of the clear pool water against the coping. On any other Spanish night the sound of tranquil water would’ve soothed her to no end but the claws of self doubt and anxiety had sunken into her too deeply and there was no way for her to return. She was at their mercy and she despised it.

A loud resigned sigh huffed between the redhead’s lips, her berry colored lipstick having faded from the nights earlier festivities. She tipped her head back until it rested on the lounge chair she sat upon as she attempted to relax and loosen her tight muscles. The days busy events of the ‘mean tweets challenge’ and two boys — Rocco and Lucas — being dumped from the island had successfully wound her up until her nerves were shot. Yes, she was admittedly a bit sad to see the latter leave the Villa so soon but she was not as concerned about that as she was the challenge.

Her belly fluttered and twisted painfully as the tweet plastered onto the board flashed behind her eyelids. The words “player” and “Bobby” were never ones she’d even considered putting together before that challenge; but suddenly the ginger couldn’t drive them from the forefront of her mind and the seed of doubt in her body couldn’t be unplanted. It had sprouted its roots into her gut and raised tiny red flags where they hadn’t been previously.

Before, the teasing and little touches with Lottie had been easily brushed aside, reassuring herself that they were only friends; Bobby was a very friendly and affectionate guy to begin with, so it came as no surprise he was the same with his mates. However, as the redhead watched the way his muscular arms wrapped up her friend, peppering kisses to the top of her head to comfort her as Rocco left the Villa behind, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering. Was it all platonic? Did he really need to kiss into her hair? Did that simple act of affection mean anything? The questions were never ending, bouncing and ricocheting off either side of her skull until a dull ache began to split across her forehead.

Just when she’d snapped her book shut, the pages thumping together harshly as she swung her legs off the side of the chair, a tanned and defined chest came into view. He was still dressed in one of those wacky printed button-downs that only he could pull off. Only four buttons were done up, the remaining ones popped open and left his delectable pectorals on display for everyone to admire. His freckled cheeks were tinged pink from probably one too many drinks and she kind of hated how good he looked; it made it all the more difficult to be a bit distant and leery of him — especially with the way he gazed down at her, hazel irises holding all the affection and tenderness in the world.

With downcast eyes, she watched his feet move until he settled onto the lounge chair beside hers. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his widely spread knees and he was close enough to reach out and touch. The twitch of his clasped fingers suggested that the same thought had flitted through his mind, so she was a bit disappointed when he didn’t move towards her.

“Hey,” Bobby murmured in his sweet Scottish twang that the redhead absolutely adored. “Fallon, are you feelin’ okay?”

Fiddling with the paper cover on the hardback book in her lap, Fallon hesitantly glanced upwards to look him in the face. God, he looked so, so pretty in his outlandish shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly — like the seams around the arms would burst and unravel. His short dreads were a little disheveled from who knows what and although all of his physical attributes were beautiful, Fallon was always utterly enamored by his eyes. They spoke the words he couldn’t illiterate, the vulnerability that he found it difficult to express oftentimes. As he looked at her by the pool that night, the twinge in her chest worsened because how could he be a player and look at her like that?

“I’m fine, love, I promise,” Fallon reassured and forced a smile that she hoped solidified the white lie she’d told.

Bobby cocked his head a bit to his right and studied her, his gaze flickered over the entire expanse of her face. She knew he could see straight through her; he always could. “Are you sure?” A mischievous, teasing smile stretched across his face. “Usually I can’t keep you off me, lass. Practically jumping my bones all t—“

Fallon’s foot knocked against his leg, shoving him back lightly as she laughed for the first time in a while. “That is so not true,” She giggled.

He beamed at the sound of her musical laughter, his lone dimple cratering itself deeply in the surface of his flushed cheek. He quirked a brow and his innocent grin morphed into a lopsided smirk, “S’not what it looked like this morning in the sh—“

“I will shove you in the pool, Bobby, I swear.”

Chortling, he caught her hand that had shot out to strike his shoulder and ran his thumb along her skin delicately. The playful pool-side atmosphere slowly filtered itself out as the couple fell into a few beats of silence and his smirk faded into something softer, something that Fallon quickly picked up as concernment. The gentle but firm squeeze he gave her significantly smaller hand had her heart thrumming a bit more heavily against her rib cage and she knew the conversation she had been dreading was looming over them. Truthfully, she had hoped their short moment of joking with one another had successfully diverted the focus off of the distance she’d put between them the entire day, but she should’ve known better; he was a person of validation, craving it to ease the insecurities in his mind from past relationships, so of course he’d picked up on her guarded behavior and wanted to fix it.

Dipping his head low, Bobby pressed the softest of kisses to each of her knuckles and she couldn’t help but watch in awe of the man across from her. His lips lingered against her last knuckle for a few seconds longer than the rest and with a cute nuzzle of his nose to the back of her hand, he rose back up to look at her properly. Vulnerability was written all over his normally smiling face, brows drawn together to form a tiny crease between them, and Fallon despised the fact that she was the cause of his worry.

“What did I do, lass?” He asked quietly, barely to even be heard over the lapping pool water.

The clear-cut sadness in his voice sent a ripple of a throbbing ache through Fallon’s chest. She suddenly felt really silly for worrying about that stupid tweet because how much could an absolute stranger know about someone they’d never met anyway? It was complete stupidity on her part for believing a random person on the internet over the man she was undoubtedly falling for after only eight days.

Fallon set her book aside and dropped Bobby’s hand just long enough to move to the lounge chair opposite her, sitting so close to him that every inch from their knees to their hips touched. She pressed her cheek against his left shoulder as their hands found each other’s again, digits slotting together like they were drawn back by an invisible force.

“It’s dumb, really,” She admitted shyly, a tinge of shame coating each word. “I feel stupid for worrying about it.”

“M’sure it’s not dumb.” He shifted his body to face her a bit more, his free hand cupping her jaw reassuringly. “I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about how you feel.”

She tilted her head to the side and pushed her lips to the warm skin on the inside of his wrist where his hand held her cheek. “I know,” She hummed softly. “I just… I dunno why I didn’t pull you aside to chat about it. I guess I just needed some time to clear my head. Figure out what I wanted to say and how to say it.”

Bobby’s heart plunged dangerously low. The cogs in his head whirred startlingly fast as he immediately assumed the worst. He wore his fear and insecurity plainly on his freckled face and Fallon instantly squeezed his hand, beginning to backtrack before the poor Scottish boy had a heart attack.

“Hey,” She whispered as his hand dropped from her cheek. “I’m sure it’s nothing, okay? It’s just about that stupid challenge…”

Her soft, musical voice trailed off and loud bursts of laughter from somewhere in the Villa carried across the lawn to fill the deafening silence. The ginger haired girl studied the side of Bobby’s face and watched as his slender fingers slid over his plump bottom lip. His dark brows scrunched together in contemplation, recalling the mean tweets they’d read earlier in the day before realization dawned on his face. When he turned his face to look at her again, there was a subtle glint of disbelief twinkling in his amber colored eyes.

“Ah. The infamous player tweet, huh?” His bare knee knocked against hers and a small amused grin ghosted across his mouth in spite of himself. “You know me. Player is my middle name.”

Fallon’s stomach twisted and she was sure her expression mirrored the irritation she felt. Moving her leg away from where it was pressed against his, she pulled her body up off the lounge chair with a frustrated sigh but she didn’t make it very far. She’d taken maybe half a step towards the villa when his warm fingers latched onto hers, gently tugging her back.

In his haste to get her to stay, Bobby had quickly stood up to catch her. The hand that wasn’t softly stroking over her knuckles came up to rest on her jaw, tilting her head up slightly to meet his gaze. Fallon felt a tug at her heart when she saw how alarmed and afraid he looked, a vulnerability that she caught quick glimpses of in only the mere week they’d known each other. It made her physically ache to consider the woman before her and what she had said or done to make him feel so afraid to lose what they’d built together.

Her resolve softened and her very short-lived irritation melted away; she could never stay upset with Bobby for long. It was like attempting to be mad at a puppy—a physically impossible feat.

“That is why I’m upset about it,” Fallon said quietly, making a conscious effort to keep her voice calm and level. “You keep cracking jokes about it but it’s not funny to me.”

His pretty, freckled face pinched in shame at the prospect of his thoughtless actions hurting her the entire day. “M’ sorry, lass,” He murmured. “It's just the idea of me being a player is so off-base that I thought it was funny. I forget sometimes we’ve only known each other for a week and you wouldn’t really know that about me.”

The redhead’s stare fell to the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were popped undone. She found herself instinctively tracing the clusters of freckles scattered along his sternum, collarbones, and pectorals—as if it were second nature and she’d been doing it her whole life; maybe she had been in another life and the familiarity of it bled into the one she was living.

When Fallon spoke again, she noted how her voice sounded tired. “You should’ve just told me that instead of laughing about it.” And then even weaker— “I was starting to believe that maybe you were just playing the game after all.”

Bobby’s thumb stroked along the curve of her cheekbone attentively. “Hey,” He hummed and the tenderness in the way his Scottish twang caressed that one word was enough to draw tears to her waterline. “Hey, baby, look at me.”

Embarrassment crept onto her cheeks and she felt her sun kissed skin burn against the palm of his hand but she obliged and the second her watery blue eyes peered up at him, all rounded out and doe-like, he felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. His brows scrunched together and his heart tugged. Seeing her cry because of him was absolute torture.

“I’d be the dumbest bloke around if I screwed us up.” The tip of his thumb caught the one stray tear that slipped over the rim of her lower lash line and he dipped lower to kiss it away. “I decree that you let me see that pretty smile of yours right now.”

The tiniest of smiles quirked up the corner of Fallon’s lips at his silly decree and Bobby frowned, clearly unsatisfied.

His expression softened into a loose smirk that reeked of mischief and the glint in his pretty eyes had her stomach flipping in anticipation. “Shame. I guess this calls for more extreme measures.”

With a brow arched in confusion, she started to curiously ask what these extreme measures were but the question died in her throat when he stooped to press his forehead against hers. The pace of her heart picked up in her chest and she was pretty certain she was holding her breath until the tip of his nose bumped hers. Fallon’s  breathy, blissful laugh filled the silence between them and his grin only grew wider as nuzzled her nose with his, back and forth a few times like an Eskimo kiss.

For a few content moments, her eyes fell shut and the worry weighing her down lifted. Bobby’s gentle Scottish lilt whispering a cheeky ‘boop’ had her lashes fluttering and she was met with one of his radiant smiles. There was no doubt in her mind that his smiles could rival those of the sun.

A boy like him with sunshine for smiles could never be a player.  He was sunshine embodied and he was the sweetest, most beautiful boy she’d ever known.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Ready now; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

To the anon who requested this from way back when, I first wanna thank you for being SUPER PATIENT with me.  I was going through a lot at the time you sent the request but I am slowly but surely getting through them. Eventually once I get the chance, I may open requests back up again.

Now there’s not really any serious warnings other than swearing, fluff, and angst.  I hope you all enjoy this fic and until next time stay safe, stay healthy, stay positive.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@platawnic

@queensdivas

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie

____________________________________________________________

*Oklahoma city, Oklahoma, 1976*

It was like every other Wednesday night at COWBOY’S.  The live dancing, bull riding, and of course the famed karaoke night.  I’ve been coming to this club for as long as I can remember, in fact I think I was a kid when I first came here.  It was to see my mama sing for karaoke night and of course my dad is known around here as the world champion bull rider.

He kept that title from the time he was 16 up till just before I was born.  And because of his reputation, I (and I hate to admit it) but I get special treatment every time I go to Cowboy’s.  In fact the current owner, he was my dad’s longtime friend and fellow bull riding competitor.

As I walked inside I could already see the place was packed with people.  Line dancing and really lighting up the dancefloor making this club a real Hoedown. I first went up to the bar and there running it was the owner’s son, Jensen.  He and I go way back, even though he’s like seven years older than me, he treats me like his little sis.  Always keeping the boys away.

“Well, well, well, well, well. Look who walked in. It’s the singing sensation (Y/n) (L/n). Can I just say I am a huge fan of yours!” He teased me at the end.

“Oh Jensen stop it. You know I’m not famous yet.”

“Not yet, but you will be soon.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Okay hang on, let me get your usual and then you spill your guts.” He walked away and got my usual beer and filled it almost up to the rim.  He slid it towards me and he said as he leaned up against the bar, “Alright now talk.” I took a sip of my beer before saying.

“What if no one likes my song?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Jens you know as well as I do that no one really sings original pieces here. It’s always covers of famous songs, and the last time someone did do an original he was booed off the stage.”

“First off, his song sucked and he kept screwing up on the guitar. So of course he was thrown off the stage. But you—you’ve got a serious talent in song writing. And your voice—baby girl the only other female singer I can compare you to here was your mom.”

“You really think so?”

“Coming from a Texas man forced to move here when we first met, you’re bout the only good thing in this one horse town. Hell you’re way better than just sticking right here. Especially since—well you know.”

“I know. It’s……it’s been rough. Ever since the car crash mama’s been—well not herself lately. Music is bout the only thing I can do to make her happy.”

“So you get up on that stage and knock these cow-folks right off their boots. Now go relax on the dance floor and I’ll let my old man know you’re here.”

“Thanks Jensen.” I pulled out my wallet to pay for the beer but he stopped me.

“No need, this one’s on my tab tonight. But expect to pay me back once you hit the big time.” I smiled at him and pocketed my wallet back into my jeans.

“Thanks Jensen, you’re like the brother I never had.”

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you yah silly little day dreamer.” He teased as he placed his cowboy hat on top of my head, teasingly rocking my head from side to side till I stuck my tongue at him and took another swig of my beer.

I then headed off to the dance floor to cool off (dancing always helped me calm down, especially when it’s with a group of people) and I danced with some of my old friends from high school, just letting my hair down as I danced the first hour of the night away before they would call up the performers for karaoke night.

*3rd Person POV*

Unbeknownst to (Y/n), it was also on that night that the most famous rock and roll band would also be there on that night to see her perform.  Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon, otherwise known as the band Queen, had just arrived in Oklahoma city to do their two night concert they had scheduled for their “A day at the Races” tour.

To let down some steam and relax after a few days on the road, Freddie had heard about this club from a friend of his and convinced the other three to come along and check it out.  All four of them wearing cowboy hats, so that they wouldn’t stick out like sore thumbs, they entered inside and saw the whole place buzzing.

“Wow, this is even more filled than the Disco club Veronica and I met at.” Said John.

“Well Tony said this was the one place in America where you would get a traditional Southern treatment.” Said Freddie. “And I like it. It’s reputation proceeds itself.” He continued with a smile as he adjusted his hat.

“Remind me again why we had to wear these though?” Roger said.

“Don’t be such a party pooper blondie. Besides you see every man in here. Tony said that everyone in Oklahoma wears cowboy hats. Anyone who doesn’t is automatically labeled a stranger. And I don’t want no Wanted poster of me across the state for refusal to wear a cowboy hat.” Freddie said as he playfully shoved Roger.

“It’s not so bad.” Brian said as he fiddled with the string of his hat.

“You’re just saying that cause you can’t feel it on your head.” Quipped John.

“Alright, alright Deacy darling you’ve had your shot at Bri. Now I don’t want any more brawls tonight. I wanna enjoy this night, you three know how much I love to party. So don’t fuck this up for me.”

“If you wanted that Fred then you should’ve left Roger on the bus.” Brian said.

“You know what yah curly haired space poodle……”

“Gentlemen.” The four of them turned to see an old man around his mid-50’s walk up towards them.  He wore a traditional brown colored cowboy hat, his grey goatee reflected off the lights, and the spurs off his boots jingled with each step. “Now I get it we all need to let off some steam, but if you’re gonna cause any trouble I’m gonna ask you all to leave.”

“No worries my good sir. You must forgive my friend here, he didn’t quite have him fixed yet so his testosterone can run him ragged like one of your bulls.” Freddie sweet-talked the man.

“Watch it Fred!” Roger sneered as he took out a cigarette and lit it up.

“Alright. I’m trusting you to keep an eye on your friend there. I get enough drunks brawling every night here, I don’t need another damage fee added to my billing. Bobby Singer, owner of Cowboy’s.”

“Pleasure to meet you Bobby dear. I heard about this place from a friend of mine and this place does not disappoint.” Freddie praised as he and Bobby shook hands with each other.

“Thank you son. Built this place myself with my own two hands before moving the wife and son up here.”

“How long has this place been here?” asked Brian.

“Well came up here around 51, bought this property at around 53-54 and the doors finally opened by the start of the 60’s so…..about 16 years this club has been around. And she’s still going strong.”

“Impressive.” Freddie praised.

“What kind of drinks do you serve here?” asked Roger.

“Well if you mosey on down to the bar, my son Jensen will lay down everything we got. We mostly do beer but if you can take something stronger, we got that as well. Enjoy yourselves boys.” As Bobby walked away, the boys bid him farewell.

“He seemed nice.” John said.

“A friendly old man, kinda reminds me of Miami. Firm, strict, knows when you’re starting trouble Rog.”

“Watch it Fred.”

“Alright come on, I think we can all do with a drink right now.”

“Yes.”

“Or ten.” the band members walked over to the bar to see Jensen cleaning out a mug.

“Excuse me darling!” Freddie cried out to Jensen.

“Yes can I he—he-ha-ha……oh shit! You’re….you guys are Queen!”

“Yes. I take it you’re a fan of ours?” asked Brian.

“Y-Yeah.” Jensen squeaked.  He then cleared his throat before continuing, “I mean yes. When I first heard Bohemian Rhapsody for the first time, it changed my life on how I look at music. Not even some of my favorite bands can do what you guys do.”

“Well thank you darling. Bohemian Rhapsody was a masterpiece.” Freddie said.

“But a complete nightmare to make.” Roger added in.

“So what can I get for you guys?” asked Jensen.

“What all do you got?” asked John.

“Well you guys actually came on a good day. Wednesday nights are our special’s night. Every drink at half price. We’ve basically got every beer imaginable, but we also do vodka, gin and juice, margaritas. And of course we have the basic water and soda for those sensitive to the strong stuff.”

“Well then my darling, we’ll go ahead and take three of your finest beer and a vodka shot please.” Freddie said.

“Coming right up.” Jensen walked off to prep the drinks for the four young band members.

“He seems like a nice chap.” Brian said.

“He does indeed.” Agreed John.  Before another word could be said, Bobby soon came up on stage and said.

“And that was Carol Anne with ‘Sweet home Alabama’.” The crowd then cheered. “And now ladies and gents, it’s time to be graced by our very own special songbird. Please welcome our very own Southern Belle. (Y/n) (L/n)!” the crowd cheered and it was then the four English rockers soon saw a young woman coming up on stage.

She looked to be about John’s age, maybe a couple years younger.  In her hand was a 12 string acoustic, she got onto the stool and adjusted the mic.

*My POV*

God my nerves were really starting to get the best of me.  What if no one liked the song? Oh god I wish daddy could be here, he always knew just how to calm me down.  I adjusted the mic and plugged in my guitar.

“Hello everyone. I uhh—” I cleared my throat. “Tonight I’m gonna do something a little different than my last few performances. This is an original piece I’ve been working hard on. Hope you all like it.” I turned towards the ensemble band and nodded to them.  They nodded back and as I began playing the opening on my mama’s guitar, Aaron came in with the violin and Jack soon came in with the bass.  

By the chorus, Daniel came in with a soft drum beat and as I passionately sung out the chorus, I could already hear some people cheering or whistling at me.

She was driving last Friday on

Her way to Cincinnati on a

Snow white Christmas Eve Going home to see her mama and her daddy

With the baby in the backseat Fifty miles to go, and she was running low

On faith and gasoline It'd been a long hard year She had a lot on her mind,

And she didn't pay attention She was going way too fast Before she knew it she was spinning on a

Thin black sheet of glass She saw both their lives flash before her eyes She didn't even have time to cry She was so scared She threw her hands up in the air

Jesus, take the wheel Take it from my hands 'Cause I can't do this on my own I'm letting go So give me one more chance And save me from this road I'm on Jesus, take the wheel

*3rd Person POV*

Everyone was involved in hearing (y/n) sing.  Like her mama before her, the adults all whistled and cheered for the young girl for she truly did sound like her mama whenever she sang, maybe even better than her.  But the one most intrigued by her was the leading frontman of Queen.

“Just who is that talented young lady?” Freddie spoke out as (Y/n) played a small instrumental break in the first chorus.

“That there is (Y/n) (L/n). Her parents were known in this club. Her mama for her singing and her dad, God rest his soul, he was the world champion bull rider. She’s got a gift with that voice of hers.” Jensen said as he cleaned out a mug.

“She does indeed.” Freddie muttered in awe as he continued to watch (Y/n) sing the next part of the song.

There was one point of the song where she held out a note so long, it felt like she was running on endless air.  The crowd all hooted and hollered as she held that note before finishing the song.  Everyone soon cheered as loudly as they could while (Y/n) smiled under the spotlight and stood up from the stool and took a bow.

“Wow she was amazing.” Brian praised.

“I’ll say, she held that note for like 10 beats. Not even I can do that.” Roger said.

“Excuse me, Jensen.” Freddie called out.  Jensen who had just gotten done serving another round of drinks for a bachelor party, came back over and said.

“What’s up?”

“Where can we meet that talented young lady?” he asked him.  The other three band members looked at Freddie confused.

“She’ll be out back. That’s where she usually goes when things get too hectic here.”

“Thank you so much darling.” He dowsed the last of his vodka and stood up and walked out of the club with the other three members behind him.

*My POV*

After the performance I went outside to cool off. I stared up at the starry sky and whispered.

“I wish you could’ve seen it daddy. It seems I really wowed everyone tonight.”

“You did more than just that dear.” I froze and slowly turned around and—pinch me I must be dreaming.  Cause right there in front of me stood my all time favorite rock and roll band Queen.  I closed my eyes and shook my head trying to wake myself up from this dream and found that I wasn’t dreaming.

Freddie Mercury, Brian May, John Deacon and Roger Taylor were really right in front of me.

“You—you’re……”

“Yes darling we know who we are. But what I’m more interested in is who you are. How long have you had that lovely voice for?” Freddie said as he came up to me and actually wrapped an arm around me.

“Well I uhh—for a while I guess.”

“And that was an original song you sang back there?” Brian asked.

“Yeah just…..a little something I came up with. Was it bad?”

“Au contraire darling, it was unlike anything we have ever heard. And that’s saying something.” Freddie said.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. The way you managed to have utter control of your voice as you belted out certain words of the song. Only one other person has been able to do that and that’s me.” Freddie bragged.

“Umm hello what about me?” Roger piped in.

“Oh yes you and your dog whistle range. That takes skill too.” I softly chuckled.  Man this was definitely not how I pictured this night would go (well except in my dreams). “Now then (Y/n). How would you like to be an opening number for our concert?” wait what?

“What?” I asked.

“What?” I heard the other three echo back.

“You’ve got the voice, the talent, you are too good for just singing at the clubs. What better way than to finally dive in and take this opportunity.”

“Uhh Fred can we talk to you for a second?” John soon spoke up.

“Just stay tight for a moment (Y/n) dear.” Freddie said as he bopped my nose before walking back towards his bandmates.  Okay what the hell just happened?

*3rd Person POV*

Freddie and the boys walked a few feet away from (Y/n) so that she couldn’t hear them.

“Fred are you crazy right now?” Roger hissed softly.

“What?”

“We can’t just go picking up random singers off the streets and ask them to open up for us!”

“I agree with Roger. No offense, but I don’t think Reid or even our tour manager Bill will go along with this.” Brian added.

“You don’t believe she’s worth giving a shot too?” Freddie asked.

“No, no it’s not about that. She is talented, beyond talented. We just—can’t do something like this. Picking up a random teenager and ask her to leave everything behind for the rest of our tour.”

“They do have a point Freddie. Plus how do we know she even wants this? I mean maybe she just sings for fun. To be honest I never thought we were that serious till our first album went on the shelf.” Deacy said.

“Okay first off that hurts Deacy dear. How dare you think that. And number 2, I have a feeling she does want it. She may not physically show it but there’s something in her eyes that show that she wants a chance at the real spotlight. And who am I to crush a fellow singer’s dream? Especially one as beautiful and adorable as her, just look at her!” they all turned towards her. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get an additional family member in our rag-tag band.”

“Whoa wait hold on now you’re saying we need another person involved with Queen?” Roger snapped.

“I’m thinking broadly Roger dear. Don’t be so dramatic about it darling. Now then, are you three with me?” Brian, Roger and John looked at each other and Deacy was the first to speak up.

“You’ll never let it go either way. I’ll say yes.” Fred smiled before turning to Brian.

“I mean—” he sighed heavily. “Okay fine, she can come with us. But only if her parents say it’s okay.”

“Well blondie?” Fred questioned as he turned to Roger.  Roger sighed heavily and said.

“I’m already ruled-out even if I say no.” Freddie cheered and hugged his bandmates before heading back over to (Y/n) to discuss his brilliant idea.

*My POV. 1 year later*

If you had told me that on the night I would perform my first original piece live before the people at Cowboys and then told me I would soon be standing before Queen, who not only saw me sing but also offered me the chance to perform alongside them, I would’ve called you crazy and laughed in your face.

But it happened.  With Jensen’s and uncle Bobby’s approval I was able to tour the rest of the North American tour with Queen.  I’ll admit it was frightening to perform in front of my first crowd of over 12,000 people, but once I got on that stage and just sang it felt good.

We had just gotten done doing a concert at the Hammersmith Odeon.  As par-celebration we all headed to a nearby pub the guys had rented out for the night and anyone who was involved with the concert was invited to come.

By 1am everyone was either completely drunk and were passed out on the floor, or they were having sex in the bathrooms. Wanting to perk myself up, I went to the restrooms to splash some cold water on my face but before I could walk around the corner toward the sinks I heard some girls talking.

“I mean don’t get me wrong Roger is amazing especially in the sack but why would he allow someone like her on stage?”

“Yeah all those songs she sings are soooooo boring!” I peeked around to see that the girls who were talking were some of Roger’s groupies.

“Queen is just being dragged by that little bitch who can’t sing for shit.”

“All her songs about Jesus or God or whatever. She doesn’t fit with them. I think they just pitied her so she could go on stage and sing her little country songs.” It was a stab to the heart.

I raced out of the bathroom and tried to contain my tears.  But it only got worse from there.  Walking pass the men’s bathroom were a few of the roadies who were talking about me.

“She brings to band down don’t you think? I mean her songs just aren’t up to par with where Queen is at. In fact I’ve seen sales going down at our concerts because of her.”

“Dorothy should’ve just stayed in Kansas singing for pubs. She’s nowhere near concert stadium material.” At that point a few tears ran down my face.

Was I? Was I really that bad? Did the guys really pity me? Was this all a big joke to them? I ran out the back way and just ran down through the streets of London.  

Not caring where I was going, or where I’d end up. I just figured the father I ran, the farther I would be away from those people and their cruel comments.

The next morning I was at my apartment (technically it was Freddie’s old apartment that he and his ex-girlfriend Mary had) lying on the couch holding the couch pillow close to me.  The things that the groupies and even some of the roadies said last night still rang through my head like a church bell.

Maybe I should give it up. I mean after all like they said, no one really listens to me perform.  So I decided to pack up my stuff and go back to America, back to Oklahoma, maybe try to get a job at Cowboy’s or something.  As I was packing up my last bag, the door suddenly opened and I heard Roger’s voice call out.

“Oi (n/n) you here?” shit why did Freddie have to give out spare copies of the keys?

“(Y/n) you in here?” I then heard Deacy’s voice speak up.  Oh great, not one but two of the Queens are here.

“Is everything okay poppet?” Brian’s voice echoed out. Great could this day get any worse?

“Everything’s fine.” I called out to them.  I quickly came out of my room and shut the door before walking towards the living room. “Hey guys what’s up?”

“Well you disappeared from the party last night darling so we came to see just why that was?” Freddie said.

“You didn’t sneak off with anyone last night did yah?” Roger teased.

“No! I—I felt kinda tired after last night’s concert so I just took a cab home.” I gave them a white lie.

“Why didn’t you tell one of us you were leaving? You know how dangerous the streets can be at night.” Roger said as he plopped himself on the couch.

“I’m not some fragile flower Rog. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can. I just can’t help it sometimes, you’ve become like another sister to me, plus Jensen made me promise to keep an eye on you less he shoot me in the arse.” I rolled my eyes as I chuckled.

“(Y/n) dear~” Freddie sang out as he peeked from the hallway. “If you don’t have anyone here, then why is your door shut?” oh shit.  I quickly turned towards him and he just grinned as he raced towards my room.

“Fred no! Don’t!”

“Oh so there is a handsome beast you’re trying to hide from us!” I ran behind him trying to stop him from getting in my room. “Oh-ho-ho this must be serious then, he not dressed or something?”

“No Freddie there’s no guy now please don’t go in my room!”

“Technically it was my room first so I get first—” he opened the door and that’s when he saw the suitcases.  “What’s all this?”

“I didn’t want you guys to see that.”

“So what were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye!?” By now I’ve seen Fred literally explode on some major temper tantrums but this—this wasn’t anger.  This was disappointment, and when Fred lowers his voice, looks you straight in the eye almost to the point where it’s like his eyes are piercing your soul, that really tears you up.

And you never want to make Freddie Mercury disappointed in you.  Cause let me tell you, it is the worst.

“Fred—”

“No, no, no. Please I would like to know as well.” Roger’s voice soon rung out.  I groaned internally as I turned to see the remaining three band members standing right outside my door.

Roger’s eyes glaring right at me with his arms crossed over his chest.  Brian’s eyes in shock at seeing the suitcases, and Deacy—he looked like he was about to cry.

“Well!” Roger snapped impatiently.

“Hey Rog lay off on her will yah?”

“Brian are you not as upset as we are about this?!” Fred asked.  At this point the three hotheads began screaming at each other.  God this was a nightmare!  I was hoping to just leave without any drama and now I’ve done and caused it!  I held my hands to my ears and shut my eyes trying to drown out their shouting and screaming.

Next thing I know I feel a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and there stands Deacy. His eyes soft, not looking at me in anger or disappointment.  He gestured with his head to follow him and the two of us snuck out of my room.

We both sat down on the couch, him sitting close to me as his arm wrapped around me.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked me.  I shook my head no.

“Umm…..I don’t know if I’ve totally ruined this but—could I get a hug?” a soft smile spread across his face and immediately his arms wrapped around me.

“You know you will always get a hug out of me sis.”

Since Deacy and I were the youngest members of the band, we kinda clicked more than the rest.  Guess our shy natures also kinda mixed in together so we kinda had our own special psychic bond with each other.  We always knew what the other was thinking or needed, we would pull the other aside when things got too chaotic (just like now cause I never liked getting or hearing fights).

His fingers stroked through my hair as I adjusted my head so that it rested over his heart.  We sat there in comfortable silence (well besides the still arguing hotheads in my bedroom).

“I’m not good enough for you guys.” I finally confessed.

“What?”

“I—I heard some of Roger’s groupies and even some of your roadies literally talk about how I don’t fit with you guys. That I’m not even that good. Or that you guys just pitied me in order to help me get on stage.”

“I knew those tramps would be trouble.” I heard him mutter.

“But they’re right.”

“No they’re not.”

“Open your eyes Deacy!” I removed myself from his embrace. “My music and Queen’s music they just—don’t mix. I don’t do hard rock songs like you guys do. No rock fans are gonna wanna hear me sing just plain country or folk songs for 20 minutes. They’ll just be going out to get beer or go shag till you guys come up. I’m boring!”

“You’re not boring. Those arseholes are boring. If they can’t withstand a 20minute first act then they shouldn’t even be at one of ours. Because we most certainly perform longer than that.”

“Well you guys give a performance, not just a show. For me; it’s just me and my guitar. I mean yeah there’s people that may like a song or two from mine. Hell you guys allowed me to have a song on A Day at the Races and News of the World. But—in person I’m plain.”

“You’re raw.” I looked up at him confused. “I don’t mean raw in the sense of bad or disgusting. I mean you’re vulnerable. You don’t do the flashy lights, the loud hard rock of drums, or extremely, overbearing, long ass guitar solos.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “It’s just you up on that stage. Just you and your guitar.”

“And people should see you as that.” We looked up and finally ceasing their arguments, Freddie, Roger, and Brian now stood there.  Freddie came up behind me, Brian knelt down in front of me, and Roger sat to my right.

“But they don’t.” Freddie began to massage my shoulders.

“Darling when I first heard you sing back in the states, It was like anything I’ve ever heard in a female singer. You have this rawness that can make anything a song. You could write a song about taking the piss and it’d be a hit.” I rolled my eyes.

“More like a flush down the sewers.”

“Oi you need to stop with the negative thinking!” Roger playfully growled as he took my head between his hands and playfully shook it, almost as if he were trying to shake out the negative thoughts out of my head.  I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics as I tried to free myself.

“Cut it our Rog!” I laughed.  He stopped then said as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Forget about what those rotter’s said. Never, ever doubt your talent. Because you have got something that not even Queen could ever have.”

“And just what is that?” I asked doubtfully.

“Rawness. Like John said, it’s just you up on stage. Most of the rockstars like us come up glammed out to the max, prance about the stage and do the headbanging hits. You—you connect with the audience just as yourself. And if people can’t see that, then they’re fools.”

“So you guys didn’t pity me when you asked me to join you guys?”

“Absolutely not! Whoever says that you just tell me and they’ll be dropped like yesterday’s rotten tomatoes.”

“Thanks you guys. I—I really needed that.”

“Hey, you’re part of this family now. We look out for each other.” Brian said as he gently took my hands in his, his thumbs gently stroking the back of them.

“There’s just one last thing that needs to be taken care of to ensure you’re feeling your normal happy self again.” Freddie said.

Oh no. Please not that!  At this point all four of them had the look of evil on their faces.

“No. Guys don’t you dare!”

“Too late lovie, we gotta make sure you’re back to your full-fledged happy self again. And we’ve got Jensen to thank for sharing with us your deep, dark secret.” I tried to make a run for it but it was too late, Brian trapped me in his long arms and soon I was gang tickled by Queen.

A couple weeks after that, we had just gotten done playing an arena in Houston, Texas.  Wiping the sweat off of my forehead (after not only doing a few of my own songs, but also joining alongside Queen playing guitar or piano) I accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh sorry I—wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s quite alright. Say you’re the young woman who just performed alongside Queen correct?” this man had a strong Tennessee accent.  From underneath his cowboy hat I could see sandy blonde hair and he had the most striking blue eyes.  He looked to be about his mid-40’s.

“Yes.” I said wearily.

“Oh sorry I know this must seem a bit creepy, please allow me to introduce myself. Stan Singer.” Wait what? Oh my god!

“Wait, Stan Singer? The Stan Singer, manager of Glen Campbell?”

“The very same, you a fan of his?”

“Yeah. My—my daddy first introduced me to him when I was just 5 years old.”

“Man has good taste.” We both laughed. “How long have you been performing with Queen?”

“A year.”

“A year? Now that I don’t believe.”

“Well truthfully I’ve been performing on stage back home in Oklahoma for a few years at a bar a family friend of mine owns. Cowboy’s.”

“No kidding. I was just there last month.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Quite a shindig that place.”

“Oh yeah, it gets crazy some days. But it’s the best place to go to.”

“Listen (Y/n), While I have enjoyed managing Glen and don’t get me wrong he’s a great guy and a great singer. I’m also looking out to see if there’s a next big thing I could help mold. And seeing you up on stage, you’ve got that special little niche in the realm of country singers. How about joining me for lunch so we can discuss a contract.”

“Me? You—you want to sign me up for a record deal?” I asked ecstatically.

“You’ve got something I’ve never heard from any male artist. Here’s my card, just give me a call whenever you’re ready to talk.” He handed me a business card and said his goodbyes as he tipped his hat at me.

Wow I—I can’t believe it.  I’m actually gonna get a real shot with my own manager.  And Glen Campbell’s manager, nonetheless.  I can’t believe this is actually happening to me.

Wait….what about the guys? What would they say? Would they be mad if I took this deal? Left them when we’ve already grown so close with each other?

During our bus ride to the next city of New Orleans, I was looking at Stan’s card debating whether I should call him or not.

“What’s that?” Roger spoke up.  He soon plopped down beside me with his arm over me. “Ooh a name and phone number! Already got yourself a groupie huh?” he teased as he nudged my shoulder.

“No Roger it’s nothing like that.” I nudged him back.

“Hey did I just hear (Y/n) got someone’s name and phone number?” Deacy soon piped in peeking his head from the curtains of his bunkbed.

“(Y/n) you sly little minx.” Freddie teased.  Oh man was I really not gonna miss this.

“Alright you guys lay off of her will yah. Now just who was it that gave you their phone number (Y/n)? Will there need to be any—talks we need to do with this boy?” Brian said.

“I already told Roger Bri, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it? I mean normally a guy wouldn’t give you his number unless he wants a date or something else.” Roger spoke. Deacy came up and slapped Roger over the head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being an idiot.”

“It’s a business card guys! For Stan Singer. Glen Campbell’s manager.”

“Wait I’ve heard of that guy. Yeah he’s like one of the best country singers out there.” Roger said.

“Yeah. Well Stan actually saw the show tonight and well he—he offered to be my manager. He wants to sign up a contract with me.”

“Oh my god darling yes!” Freddie cheered as he came up and embraced me tightly.

“Congratulations (Y/n).” praised Brian.

“But—” I started off.  Fred separated from me and he said.

“But what dear? You’re finally on your way! This should be a celebration!”

“But what about us? You guys? What if—what if this is the last time we’ll ever see each other?” at that point the guys grew quiet. They looked at each other and that’s when Deacy spoke up.

“The future is uncertain. Maybe someday we will meet again. But (Y/n), if you don’t take this shot now you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“It’s like Deacy’s song says. Time to spread your wings and fly away.” Brian said as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked between the four of them and they all had the same look.

Acceptance and love.

I felt my eyes watering up and I choked out.

“I’ll miss you guys.” They immediately hugged me and told me they would miss me too.  We remained in that group hug for the rest of the night till we arrived in New Orleans later the next day.

As soon as we got to the hotel, the guys sat with me as I called Stan up and told him that I would like to have lunch with him to discuss the contract.  Stan agreed to fly down to New Orleans and once that date was made, the guys brought me in one last final group hug telling me how proud they were of me, that they loved me and knew that I would become big in my own way.

On June 27th, 1977 I preformed my last concert with Queen as their opening act and the following day, I met with my new manager Stan Singer and together we went over the rules of my contract.

By the end of the 1970’s into the 1980’s my name had flown to the top of the charts in country artists.  So far in the 3 years of my growing career I had toured America twice for my 2 albums I had released under Sony records.

As I expected I was mostly popular in the southern states where country music reigned supreme on the radio.  But I did have some fans in the northern, Mid-west and western countries but I mostly toured around the South.

I was now performing back in my home state of Oklahoma to an arena of 20,000 people.  I had just gotten done preforming my biggest hit “Jesus take the wheel” and everyone went crazy for it.

“Thank you!” I turned and saw one of my roadies hand me a stool and I thanked him before setting it down right at the edge of the stage.  I adjusted the mic stand as I sat down. “This is a new song that I wanted to do especially for you my home sweet home. So you guys will be the first to hear this song coming up on my next album.” The crowd cheered. “But this song is also dedicated to four special men in my life. Without them—I wouldn’t even be up on this stage before all of you. It’s called Ready now.”

Then with just me on the guitar I began to sing my newly finished song “Ready now”.  As I sang the song, during the long instrumental breaks, I thought back to the guys.

All the fun memories I had with them while on the road with them.  Being there with them during their recordings, getting to do a song on their albums, or hanging out at the bars together after the shows.

Play video

You saw through me All this time I'd forgotten People are kind

I was hurting And you knew So you showed me What to do

You said, "I will listen Tell it all When you're finished We'll talk more"

But I didn't know how So we took it in turns And to my surprise We found my words

Feet firm on the ground We stood hand in hand The world seemed to tell me That I have a plan

Together we sang I'm ready now

Something new Something strange Ten feet taller I had changed

I believe you I'm not wrong Oh it suits me To feel strong

You said, "I will listen Tell me it all You don't like the ending Then we'll find on that's yours"

Oh, how did you know That's all we need A promise of hope Is enough to feel free

Feet firm on the ground We stood hand in hand And I told the world That I have a plan

Together we sang I'm ready now

By the end of the song, I heard the crowd cheer and as I looked up at the ceiling I did a silent thank you to the boys.  Even though we would never see each other in our career’s again, I would always keep their memories alive in my heart and mind.

Without them, I would never have been ready to even get to this point.  And I will always be grateful to Queen.

[killrqueen7]

Fate and Other Fairy Tales

A Worstthrust fanfic for the BRCU (Brandon Rogers Cinematic Universe)

Summary: A look at the events of Blame The Hero from the perspective of two villains in love

This work is also on AO3!

Bryce Tankthrust was never an affectionate woman and would never pretend to be. Growing up in a single-parent household, and with that parent being a highly successful lawyer with a no-bullshit, no fuck-up's, and absolutely no weakness policy, she could count on one hand the times she'd received a hug from her mother and still have fingers left over.

Bryce's mother was a cunt, to put it nicely. She was cold and manipulative toward every human being in her life, including and especially to her own daughters.

She was Bryce's fucking hero.

When Bryce was 7 years old, she met Bobby Best. He was a frail child with a wild temper and possibly the most dysfunctional father-son relationship she'd ever witnessed in all her seven years. The boy was mercilessly teased in PE and despite her desperate need for social validation, she stood up for Bobby against those other brats. In the way that children do, they became friends almost immediately and both, feeling a new sense of companionship and understanding no one else had ever given them, developed an innocent crush on one another; formed by mutual ostracization and strengthened by the hot summer sun.

To this day, 40 years later, Bobby Best was the only person in the world Bryce Tankthrust had ever loved.

Their friendship lasted only 24 hours, but in that time, Bryce had the world in her hands. Bobby made her laugh until she cried and that night, they talked, secretly on the phone, for hours. Bobby looked at her like she put the sun in the sky and she would be lying if she said that didn't make her feel like the most important person in the world.

As they lay in the dewy grass that day, grinning at each other under that hot sun and discussing the philosophy of fate and their every decision bringing them together for this very moment, Bryce made a secret promise; to herself and to Bobby: I'm never going to let it go.

But like all good things in Bryce's young life, the joy and innocence of childhood was short-lived. It all came crashing down around her, when in a moment of pure devotion to her new and very best friend, she'd presented her own beating heart; freshly pulled from her ribcage and held aloft like the precious gift that it was.

Bobby Best, in an admittedly appropriate reaction to seeing such gore and carnage, lost his lunch all over it; tainting both her heart and her entire worldview. A chorus of laughter hammered at her skull; the teacher joining in the act of pushing Bryce Tankthrust to the extreme bottom of the totem pole. You did not come back from something like that.

 Bryce's heart slipped from her slick, blood-soaked palm and landed on the hot asphalt below, breaking in two like some kind of dumbass metaphor. From where she knelt, it seemed as if glitter exploded from the damaged organ, scattered around it along with all of her joy and laughter. Every good and pure thing that made her who she was laid out on the ground at Bobby Best's feet and she was being ridiculed by the rest of their second grade P.E. class.

She only stared at it for a few seconds before standing in a rage and charging her teacher with the very knife she'd used to carve out her very soul. She plunged the blade into Mr. Best's gut several times before turning it on the rest of the class. Despite feeling woozy and weak, Bryce threatened the lot of them and fled, stomping on her stupid broken heart as she ran.

She never looked back, knowing that what she had with Bobby, as wonderful as it was, was over. She had to grow up now; love was for pawns and the easily manipulated. Now, she craved only power.

When she got home early, her mother didn't even question it or the red staining the front of her gym shirt. She simply received a glance and then her sister, that stupid, fussy little monster, began wailing again from upstairs.

"Bryce, will you see what your sister is crying about now? I need to make another phone call." Mrs. Brownstein picked up the landline and then turned her back on Bryce to signal the conversation was over. Helen was her responsibility until mom got off the phone.

Bryce quickly changed her shirt as little Helen cried, her little face wrinkling like an old lady's already. She never stopped when Bryce held her and Bryce was convinced that Helen just didn't like her. So much for girls sticking together.  Bryce was alone now.

Oddly enough, she was okay with that.

"Hearts are a waste of time, " she explained to her sister as she sat criss-cross on the floor with her, Helen sitting up and looking around for something to chew on, "I'll teach you to ignore it. They're just stupid. We're better off with these." Bryce tapped the baby's forehead lightly and then smiled when the little one tilted her head toward the touch.

 _

As Bobby sat in his cell, during the first few years of his sentence, all he felt was rage.

Rage at Bryce for killing his father and destroying any chance he would ever have of making him proud.

Rage at his father for treating him like a stranger in public and like garbage at home.

Rage at his mother for passing away and leaving him with someone who would never love him.

Rage at his classmates for ruthlessly teasing and abusing him.

And rage at himself for allowing all of that to happen.

Bobby swore, as soon as he got out, as soon as he was adopted by a family who actually wanted him, he would find Bryce Tankthrust – the catalyst for the single worst day of his life – and drive a stake through that empty cavity she called a chest.

Some say that there is a thin line between Hate and Love, and for Bobby, that line was nearly microscopic. There were days where he would close his eyes and imagine the sun on his face, the grass on his legs, and her hand in his.

There were nights where he would hear her laughter and see her grinning over at him from across the jungle gym.

All it took was one person to give him a chance. Maybe she did it out of pity or because she knew he would bend the knee and do anything she asked of him, but Bobby didn’t care then. It was the only shred of kindness anyone had ever shown him, regardless of ulterior motive.

“She was so profound.” He wrote out, tears welling in his eyes. “She was my everything.”

Bobby chewed at the eraser of his pencil and frowned at his own words. That was the Bryce he loved. The Bryce he wanted to remember. Except the memory of her rushing his father and driving a blade into his gut was glaring red and dangerous. Dare he admit that he was angry he hadn’t done it first?

No…despite everything, he missed his father. The man was a bastard, but Bobby was completely alone now. More alone than he’d been in his entire life, serving a sentence for a crime that he hadn’t even committed while the real killer roamed free; probably making other boys fall in love with her so she could fuck them over the same way…and never visit.

No, killing her gave him a purpose.

“One day, I will have my revenge on Bryce Tankthrust. She better sleep with one eye open because I’m getting out of here the second a family wants to adopt me.” 

_

As Bryce scowled at the pink and red hearts decorating the walls of her office, the Elmer heart inside her chest grew more and more bitter. Ever since her ex-lover had given her the one gift she couldn’t send back…and then mysteriously “disappeared” after declaring her a, quote, “unlovable, cold-hearted cunt” she’d hated this holiday more than any other.

Baby vomit didn’t easily come out of linen and silk.

His name was Robert and he was…well, he was a baby. And then a toddler. Part of Bryce hated herself for being unable to love the child like the mothers she saw in public. She thought that it might all come together when she held him in her arms for the first time. It was the moment all mothers seemed to speak of with peace and longing, but Bryce felt little more than pride.

She’d made that. A little human with fantastic genes who would never want for anything. But she didn’t feel the tug in her chest or the connection that she was told about. Robert was a stranger to her; and she knew he could feel it.

Her son was well-behaved, it was true, but outside of operating within the same large home, their scheduled interactions were limited. When she had attempted to hold him; to feed him or whatever one did with an infant, he just cried. He wouldn’t stop until Bryce handed him off and that hadn’t changed.

So if she couldn’t even buy his love – with expensive toys, clothing, and food – who else would dare?

This year, like every year before, she hadn’t even received one lousy card. Not even from her precious little Elmer army.

She took their hearts, though. In a way, it was similar to receiving a Valentine several times a month, even if she did use them up and throw them away.

It wouldn’t hurt, she supposed, to hire a boyfriend this year. There were plenty of men who would bend to her every whim; some on speed-dial even, and it would be a charity. Bryce was a woman of authority and fortune and it was good, every now and then, to give to the less fortunate. For a service, of course. She wasn’t in the habit of giving free money.

How much could love be worth? Half a million?

_

Bobby paced the floor of his cell, chewing at his nails as he went over his evil plans once again. He was going to get back at the world for treating him like garbage, tossing him away, and forgetting about him. One day, they would all know the name Bobby Worst and know that it was he that brought about the end of their cruel world. 

And Bryce would suffer with them. More if he could help it. He wanted to watch the life drain from her body and watch as that intelligent spark faded from her deep...chocolate eyes.

FUCK

Bobby slammed his palms against the iron bars and then tried flipping his bed. However, it was securely bolted down; something that had been done to it just a couple months after he was sentenced. He always seemed to forget that in the heat of the moment.

"Agggh it's not fair!" He cried out behind grit teeth and then sank down onto the floor.

And it wasn't. Why would he still be in love with the girl who had put him here and caused him so much pain? Why couldn't he just hate her like any normal person would?

"It's not fair," he muttered at himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and picking at a thread on his striped sleeve.

_

If Bryce still had a heart when she discovered that Bobby had escaped prison, it would have stopped for a moment.

It was front page news and she'd read it on a newspaper on her way into work. Bryce snatched the paper out of an old man's hands and quickly scanned the story with wild eyes.

"Shit!" The old man had gasped, "try me, bitch."

Instead, Bryce shoved the newspaper against his ugly yellow sweater-vest and stormed in to the elevator and then to her office, ignoring the whispers of her Elmer employees and the eyes of her little sister.

Bryce paced the floor and then stood at the window, looking down at the little ant-people below. Just when she was about to take a couple Xanax, the phone rang.

"Ms. Tankthrust? There's a man here insisting on adopting a baby. It's the persistent one."

Bryce nearly crushed the phone in her grip, but kept her voice even and authoritative. "Send him to the big room with the table-"

"The conference room?" The Elmer on the other end asked.

"Yes, whatever. Send him back. I'll deal with it." She slammed the phone down and then rubbed lightly at her chest. The surprise really had done some damage. She'd need a new one if she wanted to be convincing.

Bryce cracked her neck slightly and then went on a search for the fresh hearts, prepared to get this over with.

Then, she would decide what to do about Bobby Best.

_

When Bryce woke up, she was in a cell, lying atop a hard cot. Was this Hell? The last thing she remembered was looking down the barrel of a gun, held by a fucking baby. Baby Elmer; a name she'd decided to keep after stealing him from his true mother.

She didn't enjoy ripping a child from his mother's arms, but she'd been without a heart for nearly a month and it was a struggle to even get out of bed some mornings. She was weak, like a fourth stage cancer patient continuing to breathe out of spite.

In a way, that was exactly what she was living for.

By the time the first Elmer heart was ready, it had to be placed inside her chest cavity by Robert, who begged his nearly comatose mother to stay with him despite having been completely distant from him for most of his little life.

When the heart was shoved inside her chest, it was as if Bryce had done a bump of coke and drank 5 of her favorite double, half-sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato's.

However, she now felt as if she'd been run over by a truck...and then again as it backed over her lifeless corpse.

It felt so similar to the moment when Bobby lost his lunch all over her heart. That crushing, hollowed-out, desperate, clawing, pain.

"Hello!?" She called out, eyes desperately darting back and forth, taking in her surroundings, searching for weaknesses. "Hello, where am I?" She didn't want to sound vulnerable. Even now, she had to remain strong.

 "Hello Bryce," the voice came suddenly from the dark, where a man with platinum hair and a bored expression peered at her from the other side of the bars.

"Hi, would you kindly explain what's happening here?" Bryce gave him her most "pleasant" grin; one that barely hid her confusion and boiling rage.

"I resurrected you," he answered, and suddenly, Bryce knew exactly who this man was, standing there, staring at her with only malice in his eyes and a sparkling notebook under his chin. “With this.”

At one time, he'd been her greatest creation; not because she loved him at all, but because this clone had a heart that would be compatible with her body. He was the first in a long line of Elmer clones who had all...reluctantly donated their very beating hearts.

"I'll be damned, is that my first Elmer?" Her voice sounded almost fond. To say they had a history would be the understatement of the century. "Glad to see you could walk again, and you said that me kneecapping you would ruin your dance career. Oh, how you screamed in pain."

It was true; the removal of an Elmer's heart did not entirely remove the person inside. Some of her creations still held an interest for things like nature, theater, and - god forbid - art. But whatever kept them silent and complacent was fine with Bryce, just as long as they showed up to work on time and made her filthy fucking rich.

Her first Elmer displayed the most personality and had the strongest heart of any Elmer she'd ever made concurrently. She let him keep it, in a rare moment of motherly kindness or whatever, however as he discovered his love of interpretive dance, she could see that the boy was...stifled. He assured her that he was completely devoted to her; "like a son to his mother" (she never put much stock on that) but had tried to run away just a couple of weeks later. To Broadway, or what have you.

When Bryce broke his knees, she felt nothing but vindication. He'd tried to outwit and out-manipulate her.

As Elmer cried in pain, for just a moment, she thought she'd felt something; almost like a vibration or a...tear somewhere in her chest. It was the first shimmer of empathy she'd had since she was seven and it made her nauseous.

That night, Bryce ordered an army of Elmer clones be made and with each subsequent heart she stole, that tiny twinge of emotion faded. She'd "breed" it out of them if she had to.

Bryce watched as hate flashed in Elmer's eyes, a sure sign that things were not good for her.

She was fucked, and not in the fun way. 

_

After escaping prison, Bobby Worst did whatever the fuck he wanted to do. He fucked anything that walked...or crawled as well as various fruits and maybe some things that were not made to be fucked. Whatever, he'd put his dick in anything, because he was Bobby Worst; the absolute worst version of a human being he could ever conceive of. And he'd had a lot of time to think about that.

His diabolical plan was going to turn everyone into the worst versions of themselves. He would simply set off a nuclear bomb and whoever made it out alive would be just as fucked up and shitty as he'd felt for so many years.

And if everything went to plan, Bryce Tankthrust would be caught in the blast. If it didn't kill her, she would become soft, compassionate, and weak. The worst version of herself.

He could only hope she'd been lonely and miserable her entire life, but from the interviews he'd seen, she had more cash than several countries combined and she was never without a man who could dick her down. While he'd been stuck in a cell, pissed off and dreaming of revenge, Bryce had become the wealthiest and most powerful woman in the country, possibly the world.

She also mentioned that he was the skeleton in her closet and for a moment, it seemed like there was something behind her eyes. Regret? He'd replayed that moment again and again, pausing it on her face and searching for anything that said she thought about him.

 Of course, she could have been talking about any "skeleton" in any prison (who knew how many men she’d fucked over). Was he really so foolish to believe she even remembered him? That he was so important for her to regret that day for most of her life?

Bobby grit his teeth as he stared at those cold brown eyes, nearly crushing the remote in his hand. "Suck! Swallow! Set up the computer! I have a message for the world." 

_

Bryce hadn't seen the sunlight in so long. For days she was forced to kill herself and then was brought back only to do it again. She had died in every single way possible and she'd felt fear for the first time since she was a child.

She was strong until she no longer could be.

"No wait stop, Elmer, please, I can't take this anymore!" Her hand shook as she stretched it out to him, begging her tormentor for mercy though she knew she didn't deserve it and probably would not get it.

That audacity made her eldest Elmer pause, walking toward her with a glint in his eye so awful and so evil that she swore he'd adopted her own way of survival. He was enjoying this. 

The momentary distraction - his anger and vindication - was all she needed to snatch the all-powerful "Shit book" and pen, snapping both of Elmer's twig legs once again with the flick of a wrist. Once again, her entire body vibrated with power; power over her enemy, the smallest taste of freedom.

Until she discovered that even godly notebooks of infinite power had a limited number of pages. Oh the things she could have used that book for.

Elmer had had his fun with her and now, they were going to execute her. As she stared down the barrel of the gun in her face, she refused to allow them to see anything. Regret, fear, hopelessness, grief; it all swirled inside her, but her eyes were glassy and cold.

She always thought that it might come to this, though she always imagined the person on the other end of that barrel would be him.

It said a lot of Bryce that she would be happier to have been killed by his hand than to never see him again.

She tried to picture his face, but the only reference she had of him was the smiling face of a seven year old boy and the one very blurry mugshot.

"Last words?" The Elmer holding the gun asked.

Bryce tilted her head back and gave him her brightest, winning smile. "Get fucked, shitbag."

"How eloquent." Elmer said with a stony resolve.

Yet, at the last moment, the door to her lonely cell slid open with a hiss and the execution was called off by the very Elmer who had ordered her death. For now.

_

So there she remained, wrists chained to the walls, waiting for days on days for whenever the world needed her.

They say solitary confinement can break even the strongest of minds, and she had definitely had her weak moments in that cell, wishing even for the torture to continue if it meant having any sort of human interaction.

With her head hung low, she closed her eyes and wondered how baby Elmer was doing in the care of that closeted nitwit, Sam, and his disturbed vampire of a roommate...god, that had to be 17 years ago now. Did he remember anything?

Briefly, her mind wandered to Robert. Her only living relative; her continued bloodline. What would he do with her companies? Her amassed fortune? Was he happy?

In her weakest moment, her mind was stuck on a replay of that day with Bobby Best. The last, beautiful time she'd ever felt anything. The horrible last moments she'd had with him; leaving him heartbroken and confused. She wondered if he ever thought about her, all alone in his prison cell, and if he was still angry with her. She wondered if there might have ever been a chance for them. If he might have broken this door down and slaughtered the Elmer army to save her if circumstances were different.

 Bryce hissed as the stolen heart in her body gave a squeeze.

_

When Elmer rolled back into her cell, followed by a kid who couldn't be more than 29, explaining that the world had been blown to shit and he needed her help, she couldn't help but be amused. How dare he tell her what her purpose was? She knew exactly what she'd been put on this earth for and it wasn't to carry out some bastard's suicide mission. As soon as she was free, she was ripping his fucking heart out and eating it whole, right in front of him and any blonde bastard who tried to stop her. 

But then he dropped the biggest "fuck you" yet.

It was Bobby. Bobby Best. Her Bobby.

Apparently, he was Bobby Worst now - an evil bastard who had escaped prison and done all sorts of mildly horrible things until he finally managed to end the world. Oh, and he was on his way to kill her.

Bryce's snarky smile dropped from her face, and with a force enough to drop a bear, ripped the chains from the wall and stormed out into the bunker.

Unfortunately, the heart in her chest had been long since shriveled and useless and she dropped like a bag of bricks, crying out with the pain. It had taken too much. She wouldn't make it. Not even to Bobby's feet. And she still needed to get that stupid time machine.

"I'm too weak," she explained, clutching at her chest. "I'm gonna need a new heart."

Elmer didn't believe her. "You need to Get. Up."

"I ain't gonna make it 20 yards outside this stupid bunker without dying." She tried to explain. Why would they weaken their only hope?

"Yeah, but what's 'bunker' mean, though?" The kid standing behind Elmer's wheelchair asked...was this guy serious?

"Shut. Up." Bryce demanded, slapping the floor with her palm. "I need a new heart and I want yours."

Elmer just looked bored. "You can have one of the other Elmers'."

"I want yours, Professor X, and I wanna watch it come out of your body." It was only fair. Sure, she'd been cruel to him, but she'd never killed him. Not this Elmer specifically. And he had killed her. Many times.

There was a loud knock on the heavy bunker door, the other Elmer clones announcing the obvious arrival of a guest and working to unlatch and open the door as Bryce and their eldest argued over the possession of his heart.

Time was growing slim. He would have to make a quick decision and that's what she was counting on.

The sudden burst of gunfire made Bryce  jump and duck behind the chair. For a moment, everything was chaos. She didn't have time to stop and think about the voice she'd just heard. She knew it was him. Of course it was him. But she wasn't yet ready to face him. Didn't know if her weak heart could take it.

While Bobby descended upon Elmer in the chaos, Bryce and Blame - apparently that was the kid's name -  slipped out of the door and she earned a pop in the nose for her troubles.

Sure, hearing Bobby's voice demanding to know where she was after years of wondering if he even remembered her was fucking her up a little bit. That, paired with the failing organ in her chest made her a little testy. A bit feral. And it didn't take much for her to snap at Blame about the hazmat suit he was complaining about wearing. When he offered her the Elmer heart in his hand, she latched onto it like a hungry widow spider did its prey, shoving it inside her chest with a shudder.

It wouldn't last long out there, but it was better than nothing. 

_

Bryce was absolutely disgusted with the state of the world. The green assholes she’d met on the outside were even worse than she’d been rumored to be while she was the reigning CEO of multiple Fortune 500 companies. Even the low-income, tattooed heathen she was stuck with seemed like better company. If anyone wanted to know if she’d grown soft on the boy, they could eat a dick and choke on it.

But she did feel a bit bad when they stumbled across the bodies of his friends, giving him a moment alone with them to say his goodbye’s. They were all so young; probably just around her own son’s age. It was a shame, really.

As she roamed the Corn Hole Café, she could hear Blame speaking words of love to his friends and she wondered what it must feel like to lose someone like that, or to care if she did.

“Hey assholes!” Bryce’s head whipped around to the door so fast she rocked a bit in her heels. How the fuck did he find them?

“The lesbian..” She muttered to herself, suddenly regretting not killing her when she had the chance.

“Come out here with your hands up and we’ll fuck you with lube!” Bobby and his disgusting little henchmen laughed to themselves. What was it with villains and laughing like maniacs? 

Rolling her eyes, Bryce made her way back over to Blame, stepping over bodies as she went, but the idiot had decided to antagonize the assholes outside instead of staying quiet and going over a plan.

There was a series of several gunshots and Blame ducked out of Suck’s line of fire, crawling quickly toward the time machine they’d come for in the first place.

Bryce knew what she had to do.

40 years imagining and going over this very moment were thrown directly out of the window. Fuck what Elmer said, this was her purpose. Bobby was her beginning and her end.

“Don’t hurt the boy, Bobby. It’s me you’re after, remember?” She slowly made her way out of the café, putting herself between Bobby and Blame, her hands raised in surrender. She wasn’t even going to try to fight this. “It’s me you nuked this entire fucking planet trying to destroy and yet, here I am, standing like a boner.”

Bobby actually looked…hurt, which was what she was afraid of. Those damn sad fucking eyes - until they filled with rage.

“Nothing ever goes my way!” He cried, every bit as much the pissed off seven-year-old he used to be.

“I got access to a time machine,” She bargained, gesturing over her shoulder, “We can go back and fix all this. Not just the apocalypse but…everything, Bobby.” She wanted that more than she’d ever wanted anything. Standing here, seeing him again, she realized that he was the piece missing from her life; his absence in her life the reason she was so miserable. She hadn’t realized just how fucking much she missed Bobby until he was right in front of her. All she wanted to do was go to him; maybe…hug him. It was all very confusing and uncomfortable. 

Bobby was the one who got away and she had no one to blame but herself. But she had a chance to fix that. To keep him in her life and keep him out of prison. To have him forever.

“I’m sorry, Bryce.” He seemed to hesitate, bouncing on his feet like he did when he was anxious. Did he…have tears in his eyes? “But I waited forty goddamn years in prison for this fuckin’ moment, now I’m gonna skin you like a goddamn pig!”

Bryce was almost disappointed. Not surprised though; prison did awful things to the mind. Bobby was a child when he entered the system; and an innocent child at that. She was the reason he’d grown up that way and he’d had a long time to ruminate in his hate.

She sighed, the smile on her face waning with the ache she felt in her chest. A hollow, awful kind of pain. She knew exactly where this was going. They wouldn’t get a happy ending.

“Well shit, I figured as much.” She turned back toward the café where she’d heard the door creak open softly. “Get out of here now, Blame!”

“Yeah, but what about you, dawg?” How sweet. He was actually concerned about her safety. It would figure that she’d gain some attachment to humanity when she was prepared to leave it.

“This is my purpose,” she told him  and then scooped up the rifle at her feet, pointing it directly at the green man in front of her. He had a knife. He planned to murder her and make it personal.

_

Bobby took a step back, brows furrowed, holding the knife out in front of him warily. He was terrified to admit that his feelings toward Bryce had never really changed. He had missed her and now here she was. Was he prepared to lose her again?

Would she do it? Would she use the gun on him? If her interviews were anything to go by, Bryce Tankthrust was an absolute force of power. She was not to be underestimated or to be fucked with. At this point, Bobby wasn’t sure what to expect.

There were gunshots from the café behind her, where the boy she’d been protecting had disappeared, but Bryce didn’t even flinch. Her focus was narrowed, and it was all on him. The force of it was crushing.

Could he do it? Could he actually take a knife to her?

_

Bryce’s hands tightened and then loosed on the rifle at least three times. No matter what she did, she could not make her finger tighten on that trigger. A heat bubbled up inside her and everything came rushing out all at once. “DAMMIT!” She cried in anguish, dropping the gun from Bobby’s face. “I can’t do it!”

She stared at the ground, ashamed of the guilt; the weakness she felt for Bobby. Even now.

“I thought I was heartless, but there still seems to be people I can’t bring myself to kill.” It didn’t matter what Bobby did to the world or even to her; she wouldn’t take the first shot.

_

Bobby let out a small breath of relief when Bryce dropped the nose of the rifle.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hurt him.

It almost made him reconsider what he was about to do. It almost made him drop the knife and run to take her hand. To live out the rest of their days as the worst living couple in existence. Almost.

“Well then allow me,”

_

The next thing Bryce felt was the plunge of metal in her abdomen, and then three more just like it. And then heat, more intense than she could ever fathom. There was so much blood and so much pain. She was dying; she'd died enough times to know it immediately.

“You stupiiiiiiid cunt!” Bobby gloated, kneeling over her to laugh in her face. Bryce coughed with the pain, blood leaking from her parted lips. "You call yourself evil. You couldn’t even kill me and I’m a fucking terrorist!”

“You’re right,” Bryce sighed, meeting Bobby’s eyes. She was resigned to her fate now, but that didn’t mean she had to do it alone, “I just need a little push.” Bryce ripped the hazmat suit from her face and took a deep inhale of the radioactive oxygen around them. Immediately, her skin flushed a deep green, altering and corrupting her very cells, turning her into someone who could actually kill the love of her life.

Bryce lifted the blade from her stomach, watching as it slid out of her flesh covered in her blood. Bobby held her wrist the entire time, eyes wide and full of fear. He knew, as well, where this was going.

As Bobby screamed about the deep injustice of it all, Bryce plunged the blade into his torso; once, twice…and then four more times, crying out as if it was killing her too. The pain she felt was much more than just physical. It ripped at her insides and squeezed at her throat. She didn’t want this. No matter what Bobby did to her, she never wanted to hurt him. But to save this disgusting planet, she needed to bring down the very worst of the assholes inhabiting it.

Bryce rolled onto her back beside her childhood friend who was staring up at the smog-hidden sky above them as they both gasped and choked on their last remaining breaths. Bryce watched his face, wishing that he might reach out and take her hand in these final few moments.

“You know what’s crazy?” Bobby forced out between gasps. “Every decision we’ve ever made has led to this moment.”

Bryce felt herself relax into the grass as she laughed warmly. He remembered.

Bryce felt her heart give out when she heard Bobby take his last breath. Her eyes lost their focus and she imagined what life might have been had they been able to start over.

Bobby had once been the most important person in Bryce’s life. More than the son she’d named after him. More than her own living, breathing sister.

In another world, perhaps, Bryce would have taken Bobby’s hand and they would have run away together. They might have fallen in love; genuinely and immensely. She might have become the most powerful woman in the world – president, even – supported at every step by her super-hot, super-villain boyfriend.

In another world, maybe they’d have started a little evil family of their own – she’d always liked the name Delmar (would they even make good parents??). Maybe they’d have a wedding on the roof of a skyscraper and start their honeymoon by blowing some shit up.

Maybe they’d be happy.

And she’d never need to steal a heart again, because she’d already have one freely given.

Author’s Notes:

 I realized after writing this that Helen and Bryce are not actually sisters in this universe but I can’t be bothered to change it. They are sisters in this fic, though it doesn’t really change the story. If you know Helen, growing up with Bryce Tankthrust as an older sister would explain a lot.

Bryce does have a son, mentioned only once and briefly. The biological father is unknown and he does not currently have a name. It doesn’t seem like he and Bryce are close. In my fic, I named him Robert (after Bobby T-T), BUT I have since decided that Delmar Lysol (from Brandon’s video, Family Friendly Halloween) could have only come from the loins and environment of these two fucked up assholes, so he’s their son...in another timeline.

This is NOT a healthy relationship (then again, is anyone healthy in the BRCU??) but Bryce and Bobby are villains for a reason. They’re assholes. To everyone. Everyone in this universe is an asshole (except for precious Sam, I do believe, though he has his moments)

[inawickedlittletown]

The Heart is Hard to Translate (buddie one-shot)

Summary: In which going to therapy helps Eddie figure out his feelings. 

Ship: Buck/Eddie

Words: 3,342

Notes: This was a plot bunny from the other night. I was thinking about Eddie in therapy and also his conversation with Bobby and so this happened. Enjoy.

Title from Florence and the Machine's "All This and Heaven Too" which is absolutely fitting and just a gorgerous song.  

Read on Ao3

----

“So, tell me, Eddie, how does this all fit in with Buck? Why were you so angry at him?”

Therapy was kind of...no, it was stupid. Eddie hated it. He wasn’t good with talking about things and he was especially not good at talking about his feelings. But going to therapy was one of the conditions of being able to keep working after Bobby found out about the fighting. And if Eddie was going to be really honest, he had to admit that there was something to it even if he didn’t feel entirely comfortable being there. 

“Because of the lawsuit,” Eddie said. “It was so dumb. He does stupid stuff like that all the time.”

The therapist, Frank, nodded. “Okay. I get that. But he wanted his job back, right? That’s why he did it.”

“I know,” Eddie said. 

In retrospect, he understood Buck’s side of it a lot more. He understood that Buck wasn’t being selfish or doing it maliciously but that he was doing it out of sheer desperation. Buck had been angry at Bobby and angry at the situation and he’d done the only thing he could think to do. Eddie understood that. He more than understood anger. 

“He didn’t talk to me about it,” Eddie said. “He just — one day we’re hanging out and he’s babysitting my son and then the next I get told by Bobby that I’m not allowed to talk to him and that he’s not allowed to talk to me. He just left us. He left us with no warning and without a care because what he wanted mattered more than anything else that might have been going on.”

“Hmm. So this would have been better if he came to you about it first.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. Probably.”

“Except that if he came to you with the idea, you would have told him not to do it. Right? Even if Buck felt that it was the only way he was getting his job back the possibility that you would change his mind was there.”

“The job was always his. He’s on blood thinners...he just had to wait until he didn’t need them anymore. The job was always his.” 

Eddie didn’t understand why they were talking about Buck. He didn’t get the point of it when he and Bobby had already established that his anger and his pain and all the repressed feelings were about Shannon and Shannon’s death. Maybe all the stuff with Buck had been going on at the same time, but it all went back to Shannon. Not Buck.

“So, you were angry with him.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“But why did Buck doing that make you so angry? I mean, I get it...he’s your partner at work and you’re close friends. You rely on him for child care—”

Eddie cut Frank off. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand that I couldn’t call him when I needed him and that I couldn’t see him. My son kept asking for him and after the tsunami and everything they went through together I knew Buck was the perfect person to speak to Chris. But I couldn’t call him. I wasn’t allowed to. And somehow, he was okay with that. He made that choice. He didn’t care that he couldn’t call me...he didn’t care about Christopher or his well being. Buck just cared about Buck.”

His therapist wrote something down on his notebook. “But Buck didn’t owe you any of that. He’s not your child’s primary caretaker, he clearly had his own problems to deal with. Including his own trauma from the tsunami.”

“He wasn’t supposed to leave us. He wasn’t supposed to leave me. Not like—”

“Shannon,” Frank finished for him. 

Eddie felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It was all right there. It made absolute sense. It was about Shannon, but it was about Buck too. He’d come to rely on Buck and then Buck wasn’t there anymore and the way that Christopher had asked for him had felt like when Christopher was asking for his mom the first time she left them. Buck left them...it was just like when Shannon did. 

“But he did and he came back. Are you still angry?”

When he thought about it, maybe, but not like before. It was different...more muted. 

“I’m not angry with Buck,” Eddie said. 

“And what is the nature of his role in your life now?” Frank said and he seemed to be scrutinizing Eddie closely. 

“He’s my friend. I work with him,” Eddie said and he had no idea what he was getting at. 

“But in your mind you see him as important in your life as Shannon was and not just yours but your son’s as well. I want you to think about that, Eddie.”

Eddie did think about that. He sort of thought about it a lot. The thing of it was that maybe he’d allowed Buck to become so important in his life that when he wasn’t there it felt like Shannon all over. He’d come to rely on Buck for too much...maybe more than he ever should have at all. But Eddie had never had a friend like Buck before — a best friend. So maybe that’s what it was. Their closeness and how lost he’d felt when he couldn’t reach for his phone and text or call Buck. How in his anger he’d ended up arrested and unable to call the one person that would bail him out no questions asked. Lena had been an option only because she was practically a stranger. Eddie was lucky that he’d had her phone number at all. 

And then, Eddie had to wonder about how he would have felt if anyone else at the 118 did what Buck did. He was friends with Hen in part because Denny and Christopher got along well enough to prompt playdates, but if Hen had been the one in Buck’s shoes...well, Eddie didn’t think he would have been mad at all. Not like with Buck. 

That night, he and Christopher went over to Buck’s place. It was only the second time that they were hanging out outside of work since Buck had returned and Eddie forgave him and Eddie could easily admit that all the therapy in the world could never hold candle to how much better he felt about everything when he was standing next to Buck and when they were together. 

It was all the therapy that Eddie needed. 

Maybe he did need Buck to stop apologizing for everything less. Because he was forgiven and because all of Eddie’s anger...it was misplaced and wrong and it wasn’t because he was angry at Buck at all. More like maybe he had been angry at himself. 

He had another session a week later and he spent a lot of the time between sessions ruminating over all of it. In the meanwhile, Buck was his partner at work and they could work side by side and bump shoulders and share smiles. Some days they went to their separate homes, but other nights they were together at his or Buck’s with Christopher. It was how they belonged, he realized. Together. Him and Buck and Christopher. 

“So, Eddie, did you think about what I said last time?” 

Eddie nodded and he couldn’t help a smile. “I did.”

“And?” 

“I think maybe I love him. I love Buck.”

“Yes. I think so too. And is that cause for panic? Or is that a good thing?”

Therapists asked too many questions. They pried and they wanted to get to the bottom of things and it wasn’t something that Eddie enjoyed. Per Bobby he really only had a few more sessions to go. 

“No. I don’t think it is. I think it makes everything make sense.” 

Eddie just didn’t know if Buck felt the same way or if he could even consider them an option. Hell, Eddie didn’t even know if Buck was attracted to men. Clearly, Eddie was, even if it was a part of himself that he hadn’t thought about for a long time. He’d had a wife and that had eliminated everyone else from his radar, even the gorgeous blue eyed firefighter that made him take a double take the first day they met. 

“And that explains your anger better, doesn’t it? And now, Eddie, I do want to make it clear that what you’re going through cannot be fixed by another person. Buck can’t be the answer to your problems. It isn’t fair to him and it isn’t fair to you. So you love him. But loving him isn’t enough to extinguish all your pain or your anger and the fear of abandonment.” 

“But—”

Frank shook his head. “I can’t say it’s wrong that you’ve figured out how you feel about Buck. I’m completely behind you on that but are you ready to tell him that? Are you ready to find out what that means for him? I don’t want to be negative, Eddie, but if he doesn’t return these feelings, will you feel abandoned again? Will that bring the anger back?”

Eddie didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. The thing was that Frank only really knew Buck through everything Eddie had told him. He couldn’t know the kind of person that Buck was. Buck wouldn’t leave. Even if he never felt the same way about Eddie, he wouldn’t leave. That wasn’t Buck. 

“He won’t leave,” Eddie said. 

“Why?”

“Because he’s Buck. He doesn’t run away from anything. He fought to get back to his job and to me. I didn’t even realize that’s what it was — I was mad at him over it. He fought to find Christopher during the tsunami. He isn’t Shannon.”

Frank was smiling. “No, he’s not. And it’s clear your faith in him is strong. I think there’s still a lot we can keep discussing. I think everything you’ve gone through has left marks that we can keep working through. I want to keep meeting with you, Eddie, even after our mandated sessions are over.” 

Eddie nodded. Maybe he could keep going to them and he could keep talking through his problems. Frank, after all, had been the one to get Eddie to realize his feelings. 

That afternoon, when he got home he found Christopher curled up with Buck on the couch. They were watching Dumbo of all things — the classic animated version. 

“Daddy! You’re home!” Christopher’s head poked over the top of the couch and Eddie leaned over to give him a quick hug. 

“Hey, kiddo.” 

He managed to kiss Chris’ head as he turned back to the movie. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, looking at Buck. “Where’s Carla?” 

“I was bored so I stopped by. Told her she could go home early if she wanted. I figured I could hang out with Christopher until you got home. How was it?” 

Buck’s head was tipped back on his couch. His lips were turned up into a smile and his eyes were so deeply blue in the light. 

“It was good. Kind of getting the hang of the whole thing,” Eddie said. 

“Oh. That’s good. No more impulses to hit something?” 

“Nope. Not currently.” 

There were other impulses instead. He wanted to reach out and touch Buck’s face and trace his features with his fingers until he could memorize him under touch. He wanted to mess up his hair. He wanted to kiss him and to kiss the birthmark on his eyebrow because he loved the way it stood out on his face, making him just that much more interesting. Eddie wanted to hug him and never let him go. He wanted to grasp his hand. He wanted more than he could ever hope to get.

“Eddie? You alright, man?” 

Eddie blinked. He’d been standing there just staring at Buck. 

“I — yeah, I’m good.”

“Well, you don’t have anything to do right now. Come join us.”

“Yeah, daddy. Come watch the movie.”

Eddie nodded. He dropped his things on the table by the couch and then sat down on Buck’s side. He tried to keep his distance but Chris reached over Buck to grab his hand and so he had to move closer. Their legs were touching and so were their shoulders and Buck’s weight sort of settled into him. It felt right. 

It was later. Much later, after they’d watched another two movies and gotten take-out for dinner, that Eddie realized that any tension that he’d had left over from the therapy session was gone. Any worry about what might happen if he told Buck had dissipated enough that he could consider doing it. 

It was a school night so even though Christopher tried to argue against it, Eddie made him get up and get ready for bed. Buck jumped in to help and wound up reading a quick bedtime story to Christopher once the boy had made it into his bed. 

“Goodnight, buddy,” Buck said. 

“Love you, Buck.” 

“Love you too,” Buck said and his voice was tinged with emotion. 

Christopher would always be braver than him. Eddie had no idea if he could say those three words out loud and directed at Buck. 

“Love you, daddy,” Christopher added after Eddie had kissed his forehead. 

“Goodnight. I love you, kid.” 

“That was something,” Buck said afterwards, back in Eddie’s living room. 

“What can I say, you’ve made an impression on us,” Eddie said. 

“Us?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie said and looking at Buck and how he shifted his feet nervously, it gave Eddie the strength. If he didn’t do this, he would regret it. “I talked about you a lot in therapy.”

“Because you were angry at me?” Buck asked. 

Eddie gave a short nod and then because he thought that standing made the whole thing weird he motioned for Buck to sit and he sat down next to him. They were turned towards each other leaving space between them. Their knees brushed together. 

“I don’t think I was ever really angry at you. I was angry because you weren’t here and it felt like that meant that I wasn’t enough for you because you just went and started that lawsuit and you didn’t even think about talking to me about it first. You didn’t consider me or Christopher in your decision and Frank helped me realize why I felt like I should have had a voice in all of it.”

Buck didn’t seem to know what to say and Eddie didn’t know if he could continue. 

“Ed, you know it was a spur of the moment decision, right? I was angry at Bobby. The lawyer had already put the idea in my head and it made sense. I wasn’t thinking about anything else but the job and getting back to it and to you and everyone else.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “I know.” They’d gone over it enough times. 

“It was me not thinking about anyone. Not because you’re not good enough. That’s — that’s ridiculous. You can’t ever think like that about yourself ever again.”

Eddie let out a sigh. “I guess Shannon did more damage than I ever noticed. Did you know she wanted a divorce? Told me so a few nights before she—”

Buck’s hand had found his and Eddie focused on the touch. It was grounding. It was necessary. It was everything and Eddie wanted to always have the option of holding that hand. 

“It felt like that, when I found out about the lawsuit. Like when Shannon left,” Eddie admitted. 

“It wasn’t about you,” Buck said. “I was just—”

“No, Buck. I know. I know. I don’t blame you for what you did, Buck. I get it. I really do, now. But at the time it hurt and it was because I connected the two things and not being able to talk to you was the last straw in my sanity. I don’t know.”

Buck squeezed his hand. “It was hard for me too. Harder when you kept giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Oh, god. I know. I know. I’m so sorry about it, Buck. I was such an—”

“You were understandably upset, dude. We’re past it.”

Eddie nodded. They could leave it at that. It could be enough. But looking at Buck and knowing that Buck’s hand was on his...Eddie had to tell him. Even if Buck never saw him that way, he couldn’t keep his feelings secret. 

“There’s a reason I felt so strongly. It was my therapist that helped me see it.”

“Yeah?” 

“I, um, it’s because I...I have feelings for you, Buck.”

“You have feelings for me,” Buck said. “Eddie, I—”

Eddie was quick to interrupt. “You don’t have to say anything. Buck, I’ll understand if you don’t—”

Buck’s index finger pressed against his lips and when their eyes met, Eddie could tell that Buck wasn’t upset or angry or any of it. He wasn’t even confused or trying to figure something out. Instead, he was a touch amused and maybe nervous and his lips were quirking up into a smile. 

“You’re more than enough, Eddie. To me, you’re enough. You’re everything.” 

Buck’s finger remained on his lips, so Eddie reached up and grasped Buck’s wrist, pulling his hand away but keeping his hold on Buck’s wrist.  “What are you saying?”

“That it’s possible I’ve been in love with you from the first time I saw you.”

“And then you were kind of a jerk?” Eddie asked.

Buck chuckled. “Didn’t really know what to do about it, did I? And, I was a little jealous.”

“A lot.”

Buck scoffed and he looked like he was ready to argue but he shook his head. “That...it doesn’t matter. Is this going to be like this always? Because if you’re going to keep teasing me, then I’ll take it back. Maybe it’s Chim that I love. Maybe I’m only here because of your kid and—”

Eddie loved him. He loved this man that loved him back. And Buck was talking but Eddie was hardly hearing it, so when he leaned forward and pressed their lips together when Buck was mid word, he had no idea what he’d interrupted. Buck kissed him back in less than a second, pressing back into the kiss but letting Eddie lead. Their lips moved together and when Buck’s hand came up to cup Eddie’s jaw, Eddie pressed ever closer, his arms drawing Buck against him until Eddie was pressed into the armrest of the chair and Buck was leaning into him and they just kept kissing and kissing and kissing. 

He loved him. 

Buck loved him back. 

When they were giggling against each other little giddy school children, Eddie felt like everything was finally right. Buck kissed down his jaw and pecked his lips and then his fingers were tracing his cheek bones before they were kissing again. And Eddie never wanted it to end. 

A week later, Eddie told Frank that he told Buck. That Buck loved him back. 

“I’m glad. But, like I said, Eddie, there’s still a lot of work for us to do.”

“I know. I just...I think I’m happy.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. It’s a start for where I’d love for you to be.”

That night, Christopher cuddled between him and Buck. Christopher had insisted that after he was done with his homework that they needed to watch Cinderella. He was on a real Disney classics phase but Eddie didn’t mind. Even with Christopher between them, Buck had reached over and his fingers were a ghost touch on his neck and shoulder. Eddie turned occasionally to grasp his hand and kiss it. 

Things were going to be okay. And maybe the whole therapy thing wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. But mostly, he was glad for Buck and how much better everything was with Buck at his side. 

---

Notes: I do like to think that eventually Buck ends up going to therapy once all his trauma catches up to him and it happens to be with Frank and Frank already knows way too much about Buck before he even meets him. Let me know what you all thought! 

[cqlebrvrs]

destruction.

(a solo thread of caleb rivers vs. the stranger ;; tw: violence, tw: alcohol )

He hated every moment of this. It was like every part of him was screaming to turn around; to run back to the school and never look back. But he knew he couldn’t. Not with Hanna at stake.

He would do anything for her. And this was further proving it... as long as she understood that, things would be okay. They had to be, right? Hanna would understand that when all this was over, it was to keep her safe. It was to keep her, and everyone else he cared about safe.

Let’s just hope that sweet pea understood that, too.

he adjusted the beanie on his head as he watched from his hiding spot in the trees behind the wrym. right now it was just a waiting game. a game of being patient; waiting for the moment toni and sweet pea left the building. he had been in there just hours prior; he knew they were the only ones working that night.

just have to wait.

his pockets were empty, save for the few things he managed to snag from the lockers at school. it wasn’t asked of him, but he had to plant evidence somehow. Anything to get the blame off him. Anything to keep him from being exiled.

He even went as far as to snagging the bulldog jacket, with a last name emblazoned on the back. That’d be the finishing touch.

He heard the keys rustling before he saw the duo leave. They were laughing; bantering back and forth like he’d seen them do so many times. It made his heart sink further into his gut. Man, he hated this.

With them gone, and getting further and further away from the wrym... it was time for him to move. He didn’t have much time. He had to get in, do his thing, and get out.

As he approached the door, he slid the black gloves onto his hands.

His instinct was telling him to pick the lock. It would be easy; a quick bobby pin in and he’d be set. But this stupid stranger wanted the place to be destroyed. So once he knew his friends were out of earshot, he took out the hammer from his bag and broke the lock clean off, making quick work of the mechanics to allow him to inside.

If that alone was painful... he hated to think about the rest of it.

He let out a sigh as he stepped into the place that was now his own. The back room; the kitchen area, the dining area... it was all too much. He had to destroy it all.

So he started with the first room: the kitchen. He flipped the tables, threw around the cutlery, snapped every knife and tool he saw in half. Left open the freezer, breaking boxes of food and everything else. By the time he was done, the kitchen alone was a mess of broken plates, glass, and metal. He did the same to the back room, and pocketed the money he found in the safe after he broke that open, too.

If he was going to commit a crime... might as well go all out.

The stranger didn’t have to know what he planned on doing with the money, anyways.

Next was the bar.

He scanned the products, taking a few swigs of whiskey before storing a few bottles in his bag for later. He was going to need it after this, especially as he ran the hammer along the shelves, letting bottle after bottle fall to pieces on the floor. Whatever he saved, he threw the bottles across the room, letting them shatter against the other walls. He took the hammer to the bar itself, breaking the wood and smashing holes into it. The glasses fell, joining the bottles in a sad pile of broken glass and spilled alcohol. Erasing all the memories he shared at this very bar. The registers were smashed, the rags torn.

He didn’t even give the alcohol enough time to settle in before he moved to the dining area.

He snapped the barstools, dug into the booths, ripping out the stuffing inside. Flipped the tables and smashed them with the hammer. He snapped the pool sticks, threw the balls around the hardwood floor, creating dents that wouldn’t be saved.

He saved the pool table for last.

The table where he sat against right after completing initiation. The table where Hanna kissed him on the cheek, wishing him a congrats. Where he played with Joaquin, where he talked with peaches.

Where sweet pea himself welcomed him into the serpents.

Taking another drink from the bottle in his bag, he pulled out his switchblade and leaned forward, dragging it across the green felt from top to bottom.

It only felt right, before he laid the hammer into it.

That one hurt the most.

He planted his evidence before he left; tossing a jacket onto one pile of rubble; a torn lanyard on another. And last but not least, he dropped the school ID of Reggie Mantle behind the bar, just visible enough under the broken glass to be noticed and identified.

The last thing he did on his way out was throw one of the broken stools through the front window of the wrym.

His fingers moved quickly across the screen, sending a quick “it’s done” message off to this stupid stranger.

If word got out... he just hoped pea had it in him to forgive him.

[hekate1308]

Helping Hand

Happy Birthday, @ordered---chaos! I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. 

Angels. Revered, beloved, maybe even feared to an extent.

Until they actually made the leap to earth about a hundred years back and human realized: angels too are not without their faults.

In fact, most are downright dicks and their wings always, always get in the way. They can’t hide them on earth, so they’re stuck with giant appendages hanging from their backs. Oh, and they molt once every year, too. Needless to say, having an angel on the team doesn’t really make things easy in the workplace.

So when Dean first heard they’d get another EMT, an angel who decided to move to earth permanently, he groaned. Just what he needed, feathers near the instruments he’s always careful to keep pristine and sterile.

But Cas turned out to be pretty awesome. Sure, he made some rookie mistakes in the beginning, but who doesn’t? He’s smart, he’s great with the patients; the guy obviously knew what he was thinking when he decided to become an EMT.

Hell, Crowley liked him from the beginning, and Crowley is one of those guys who first hate everyone until they prove themselves to him. Before Cas came along, Dean held the record after which he was treated like an actual human being again – three weeks.

Cas, though... well, he snapped after one week of working with Crowley, one day answering, “Crowley, I can handle the fucking stretcher” in a completely calm tone that indicated he might as well gut him while he was at it when Crowley tried to admonish him, and he’s trusted the angel ever since.

It soon turned out that Dean and Cas are well suited to work together (and maybe – but no, Dean won’t think of that, he shouldn’t).

True, Dean was a bit wary in the beginning. For example, angels are not familiar with death. They know the concept of course, and they realize that if they locate to earth permanently they will grow out and cease to be eventually (which means that many of them just stay long enough to see the first signs of aging and proceed to hightail it back to Heaven) but few get what it really means.

So he was a little nervous when he was partnered with Cas the day the angel saw his first dead body. Part of him expected him to flee right there. Still, he’s nothing if not patient when it comes to his job, so he slowly led Cas to the body they had been called to.

An old man. He must have passed peacefully in his sleep. Dean was glad that was Cas’ first body, at least.

“Go ahead” he said gently. “Touch his hand. You’ll have to get used to it.”

Cas nodded and almost reverently reached out for the old man. Then, he closed his eyes and quietly prayed for him.

Dean was a gone right there and then. Not that anyone knows... Apart from his brother. He never could keep things from Sam. He’s been trying to get Dean to ask Cas out.

As if an honest-to-God angel would ever choose to date him. Dean knows that, no matter how much good karma he builds up with his job, he’s ninety percent crap. Plus, staying with him would mean that Cas indeed chooses Heaven over earth, and he’s not at all sure he’s comfortable with a guy literally dying out of love for him.

So he says nothing, just quietly admires Cas as they work together.

They make a great team, everyone knows it.

Everyone except their supervisor Lilith.

Dean knows Crowley has been after her job for a while now. The day he throws her of the throne cannot come soon enough.

She’s annoying, impolite, doesn’t care one bit about either the EMTs or patients, and only works at their place at all for her pay check every month.

Dean thought she hit rock bottom a while back, when she berated Cas for finding exactly one Feather on the bunk he’d collapsed on the previous day after a forty-hour shift.

But this might just take the cake.

Pie.

Whatever.

“Lilith” he says slowly, massaging his temple with his right hand, “Are you telling me you want Cas in the back with Ruby Cassidy?”

Ruby Cassidy is by no means a stranger to them. The pure girl was diagnosed with schizophrenia years ago, and there seem to be a few other mental disorders thrown into the mix as well.

She’s attacked at least four EMTs in the last year alone.

And here’s the thing: when she did, she claimed that they were angels and needed to be eradicated.

For some reason, she really hates angels.

And now there’s an actual angel on their team, and Lilith wants him of all people to ride in the back with Ruby.

“He’s our newest EMT” she explains to him, as if they’re on freaking Survivor and have to strategize who to eliminate.

“So you’re saying he’s expendable?” Dean fumes. Angel or not, EMT or not, Cas is a wonderful person, and even if he weren’t, he should still be protected by his own freaking boss. And Dean has met Ruby several times without being attacked; certainly it would be better if he were to ride with her.

“I am saying if something happens we won’t lose a well-trained operative.”

Well-trained. Of course Cas is well-trained. Anyone who makes it through the training is well-trained, for crying out loud. Dean’s old instructor Bobby made that pretty clear.

But there’s no arguing with Lilith, and soon enough, Dean is driving the car, Cas in the back.

He pretends that he isn’t nervous as hell. They gave Ruby a sedative before she even met Cas, and she was calm when she saw the wings, so he really hopes...

There’s a soft giggle from back and the hair on Dean’s neck rises. Then he hears Cas�� gentle murmur and knows everything’s fine. For now.

When they arrive at the hospital, Dean breathes a sigh of relief and hurries to help Cas.

“Really, Dean, I’m fine” he immediately assure him when they are alone. “She wanted to touch my wings.”

“She wanted to... what?” It’s not like Dean has wished for the opportunity almost from the first moment he ever laid hands on the black shiny feathers. He assumed it was taboo to even ask. How could he demand to touch something so beautiful?

“I think she’s actually jealous of us. She wished to fly. She told me herself.”

He can only nod.

“Dean” Cas says, suddenly nervous, “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

“No, why would you think – “

“That’s your unhappy face.”

Dean takes a deep breath. “Cas, it’s the whole situation, alright? Yes, everything worked out fine, but she could just as easily have attacked you.”

Cas nods. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Dean smiles. “You know I always do.”

“Yes” and Cas gives him one of his happy smiles, the kind that makes Dean’s heart beat faster and his throat constrict, and then suddenly Cas reaches out with his right wing and gently strokes his cheek.

“Thank you.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, so he just stands there, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Cas withdraws his wing. “We should get back to base.”

Dean nods, still feeling the soft touch of feathers on his cheek.

When they return, they find Crowley fuming. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Did Lilith use Cas as a human shield? Angelic shield. Whatever.”

“Something like that” Dean replies before Cas can, “Thank God Ruby was under drugs and rather enamoured by his wings.”

Crowley chuckles but is serious again in an instant. “But Lilith gave the order? She made you ride in the back?”

“Yes” Cas confirms.

Crowley nods and is gone.

“What do you think he’s going to do?”

“He’s after Lilith’s job; it’s rather easy to imagine” Cas says simply, “Although I’m not sure how to feel about it.”

“Cas, she made you –“

They were interrupted by Lilith leaving the base.

“Lilith” Cas calls out, clearly trying to see if she was worried about him. Turns out she wasn’t. She doesn’t even acknowledge them properly.

“Quite frankly” Dean tells him, “Anytime Crowley wants to take over is fine by me.”

Cas nods, clearly troubled.

“Hey” Dean says, laying a hand on his shoulder, “You did good tonight, alright? In fact, you did great. Our shift’s almost over. I’ll buy you a beer later, alright?”

“Alright” Cas confirms, his eyes shining, and Dean does his best not to remember the smile from before, or the touch of –

He clears his throat and steps away.

Over a few beers that night, they talk of their families, and Cas’ voice become wistful and gentle as he talks about the angels he left behind to live and die on earth, but there’s no regret. Dean answers honestly that he could never imagine leaving Sam behind, but the angel just tells him “I know. You love too strongly for that” and Dean almost, almost says it, confesses to the sin of loving something so pure, so good.

This night, he goes home alone, as always, so he should be used to it, but his place feels lonelier than ever before.

Crowley makes is move a few days later. Dean should probably have been expecting it, but he’s still tired since e only got four hours of sleep last night (the Skype call with Sam was still worth it, though) and trying to wake himself up with coffee.

“Lover boy isn’t working today I see, or he’d be by your side as always.”

“What do you want” he just mumbles tiredly.

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look so sad Squirrel, I’m sure he still loves you.”

Dean doesn’t reply.

“So” Crowley finally declares, breaking the silence, “This is it.”

“This is –“ before Dean can finish his question, Crowley dramatically pulls out a scroll and just... lets it unravel.

“Dude. We’re not in an Indiana Jones movie. How many feet – “

“I am quite as handsome as Harrison Ford, just so you know. And this is a 7 feet long list of grievances against Lilith, already signed by the majority of EMTs working here.”

“You are actually gonna send this in?”

“I’ll hand-deliver it. I can’t risk anyone destroying this beauty through incompetence. Will you sign? The story of her forcing Cassie to possibly die for a good cause is right at the bottom.”

Of course he signs, even though he still thinks the scroll is a tad overdramatic. But Crowley knows what he’s doing.

“Alright, now all we need is the angel’s scrawl and we’re good.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dean asks. Many of the higher-ups don’t think much of Castiel joining their ranks.

Crowley shrugs. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

And that’s that. He catches Cas at another time, it seems, because when Dean next partners with the angel, he says, “I think I underestimated Crowley.”

Dean’s pretty sure most of them did that, in the beginning, but then, they did the same with Cas.

Still – he never thought the guy would work that quickly, but a week later Lilith’s been given the boot, and they are celebrating their new supervisor don’t-call-me-Fergus-if-you-want-to-live Crowley.

“On this most auspicious of days, may I bring a toast” Crowley finally declares. It’s pretty later, and some of them who have the early shift went home long ago, but both Dean and Cas have the day off tomorrow, thank God.

He obediently raises his glass, blushing as he feels Cas’ wing brush his side.

“Here’s to Winchester finally admitting that he wants to sail off into the sunset with our very own angel”.

And just like that, he’s in the spotlight.

Cas turns to him, frowning.

“I can’t sail – “

And maybe he can save this after all –

“Oh for God’s sake” Crowley groans. “Winchester’s in love with you, Feathers. Have I made that clear enough?”

Dean can’t breathe.

“Dean? Is it true?”

There’s no point in lying. He squeezes his eye shut and nods.

He’s not entirely sure what happened, but the next thing he knows, he’s pressed against the bench he’s sitting on and Cas is kissing him within an inch of his life, and he’s pretty sure there are some catcalls, but who freaking cares?

Cas pulls back, his eyes shining. “Dean – will you fly with me?”

Dean’s heart beating fast. If an angel asks a human to fly with them, that’s it. They have chosen them as their equal, their partner, their one and only.

“Of course, Cas” he says roughly and then he’s enfolded in Cas’ wings and nothing else matters.

'

[presidentclaireunderwood]

2018 Emmy Predictions

Find under read more. Ranked from most to least likely to be nominated imo.

Best Comedy Series:

Atlanta (FX)

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon)

Silicon Valley (HBO)

Barry (HBO)

GLOW (Netflix)

Curb Your Enthusiasm (HBO)

Will & Grace (NBC)

Black-ish, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and Modern Family can totally get in though since they were all in last year and dropping three seems dangerous. The Good Place is a possible spoiler as well. Dropping Black-ish is my biggest risk here, but I feel like it’s time could be up.

Best Actor - Comedy:

Donald Glover on Atlanta (FX)

Bill Hader on Barry (HBO)

William H. Macy on Shameless (Showtime)

Anthony Anderson on Black-ish (ABC)

Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm (HBO)

Zach Galifianakis on Baskets (FX)

Eric McCormack can totally show up, but I don’t see the show really doing as well as people are predicting. Thomas Middleditch is on the bubble as well, but him not getting in last year is a bad sign. Finally, Matt LeBlanc and Ted Danson could be spoilers if Episodes or The Good Place happens this year.

Best Actress - Comedy:

Rachel Brosnahan on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon)

Allison Janney on Mom (CBS)

Lily Tomlin on Grace & Frankie (Netflix)

Alison Brie on GLOW (Netflix)

Jane Fonda on Grace & Frankie (Netflix)

Pamela Adlon on Better Things (FX)

Tracee Ellis Ross is the most obvious exclusion here, but I’m sticking with Black-ish having a bad yeah tbh. Ellie Kemper and Debra Messing are the other potential nominees I’m skipping. I don’t feel confident about anyone outside my top three though.

Best Supporting Actor - Comedy:

Sean Hayes on Will & Grace (NBC)

Marc Maron on GLOW (Netflix)

Alec Baldwin on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Tituss Burgess on Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Netflix)

Louis Anderson on Baskets (FX)

Brian Tyree Henry on Atlanta (FX)

Anyone can miss here and I wouldn’t be surprised lol. Henry Winkler and Tony Shalhoub are the only ones I can see sneaking in in anyone else’s place (maaaaybe Lakeith Stanfield if Atlanta is really loved). But any combination of 6 out of those 8 is possible. I’m just going with these 6.

Best Supporting Actress - Comedy

Kate McKinnon on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Megan Mullally on Will & Grace (NBC)

Alex Borstein on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon)

Leslie Jones on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Betty Gilpin on GLOW (Netflix)

Rita Moreno on One Day at a Time (Netflix)

McKinnon is the only safe bet, but I still feel cautiously optimistic about my top four. Gilpin is more just what I’m hoping for, but she’s definitely on the bubble and can totally happen. I’m very concerned about Moreno since she didn’t happen last year, but there’s really no better options. Laurie Metcalf could happen, but I think Roseanne is too hated and Emmy voting was when all the shit went down. I also think a random Saturday Night Live woman could replace Vanessa Bayer (and I’m thinking that would be Aidy Bryant or Cecily Strong).

Best Guest Actor - Comedy:

Donald Glover on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Bill Hader on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Lin-Manuel Miranda on Curb Your Enthusiasm (HBO)

Bryan Cranston on Curb Your Enthusiasm (HBO)

Katt Williams on Atlanta (FX)

Jon Hamm on Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Netflix)

I’m very confident on the top four and the last two are just kinda hopeful. Williams and Hamm’s episodes of their shows were so acclaimed I hope they can sneak in. If not, I expect Will Ferrell, Sterling K. Brown, Leslie Jordan or Bobby Cannavale.

Best Guest Actress - Comedy:

Jane Lynch on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon)

Tina Fey on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Tiffany Haddish on Saturday Night Live (NBC)

Molly Shannon on Will & Grace (NBC)

Blythe Danner on Will & Grace (NBC)

Laurie Metcalf on The Big Bang Theory (CBS)

I might be crazy discounting Wanda Sykes, but yeah...I’m completely destroying Black-ish here. The top three women are pretty much locks and the bottom three are just well respected women that they’d love to nominate. Sykes is certainly possible, maybe Elizabeth Perkins for GLOW, but I’m sticking with these six.

Best Drama Series:

The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

Game of Thrones (HBO)

The Crown (Netflix)

Stranger Things (Netflix)

This Is Us (NBC)

The Americans (FX)

Westworld (HBO)

This category is such a lock it’s not even funny. Killing Eve is really the only spoiler here, but I think it happened too late to really gain momentum. If it aired in the fall, it’d certainly be a contender. Maaaaaybe Homeland comes back but I doubt it.

Beat Actor - Drama:

Sterling K. Brown on This Is Us (NBC)

Milo Ventimiglia on This Is Us (NBC)

Matthew Rhys on The Americans (FX)

Jeffrey Wright on Westworld (HBO)

Liev Schreiber on Ray Donovan (Showtime)

Kit Harington on Game of Thrones (HBO)

The nominations barely matter because it’s pretty much down to those top three men fighting it out for the win. Wright should comfortably move up to lead and Schreiber always gets nominated so I can’t imagine him missing now. Harington is rocky and if I had to guess someone would replace him, I’d say Ed Harris. Freddie Highmore could happen, but his show was too blah. Maybe Jason Bateman, but I think him showing his ass during the Arrested Development press tour killed his Ozark chances. Jonathan Groff is a huge longshot, but maybe the Emmys really loved Mindhunter idk.

Best Actress - Drama:

Elisabeth Moss on The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

Claire Foy on The Crown (Netflix)

Keri Russell on The Americans (FX)

Evan Rachel Wood on Westworld (HBO)

Mandy Moore on This Is Us (NBC)

Emilia Clarke on Game of Thrones (HBO)

This category is competitive as hell. The top two women are 100% locks and Russell is an extremely safe bet. After that, anything goes. Wood had a dominant season so the fact that she got in last year makes me feel pretty good about her chances. Moore shockingly missed last year so that could happen again, but she was all everyone was talking about after that huge Super Bowl episode. Clarke is nowhere near safe, but the Emmys just adore Game of Thrones. Sandra Oh is the obvious spoiler here and I might be crazy discounting her because if she gets a nomination, she has potential to win. I’m sticking with my gut that Killing Eve just became big too late. Viola Davis is a goddess and could obviously happen. Laura Linney is an awards show favorite, Jodie Comer could happen if Killing Eve is a hit, Tatiana Maslany won for Orphan Black a few years ago and this is her last year, Claire Danes could always return...Hell Maggie Gyllenhaal could happen for her flawless performance on The Deuce. There’s so many options, but I’m gonna go with these six but feel like an idiot if Sandra Oh gets nominated tomorrow.

Best Supporting Actor - Drama:

David Harbour on Stranger Things (Netflix)

Peter Dinklage on Game of Thrones (HBO)

Justin Hartley on This Is Us (NBC)

Mandy Patinkin on Homeland (Showtime)

Joseph Fiennes on The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

Anthony Hopkins on Westworld (HBO)

This category is so open-ended with only Harbour and Patinkin as possible returnees from last year. Harbour and Dinklage are 100% locks. I think Hartley worked his ass off to get nominated so I’m throwing him in there and I’m keeping Patinkin in. I literally just put Fiennes in right now. He missed last year which concerns me, but I feel like Handmaid’s Tale is only getting bigger and bigger. I feel terrible about my Hopkins prediction since he did nothing and I hope he doesn’t happen, but he got a lead actor nomination last year and he’s just beloved. I have Noah Schnapp in seventh place and I’d love to see him happen because he killed it on Stranger Things but I’m not sure. Max Minghella, Matt Smith, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, and Noah Emmerich are on the bubble as well and can easily snatch a spot from any of the bottom four.

Best Supporting Actress - Drama:

Thandie Newton on Westworld (HBO)

Ann Dowd on The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

Lena Headey on Game of Thrones (HBO)

Millie Bobby Brown on Stranger Things (Netflix)

Chrissy Metz on This Is Us (NBC)

Yvonne Strahovski on The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

I’m very confident on my top three (though no one seems to be a 100% lock). I feel good about Brown and Metz since they got in last year, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they missed. Strahovski is kinda what I’m hoping for so I’m just trying to send those good vibes out there. It’s either gonna be her or Bledel and I think Strahovski kinda deserves it more (though Bledel won guest actress last year). I’d love to see Vanessa Kirby happen, but I’m scared she’ll miss. Maisie Williams and Uzo Aduba are totally in the running too, but I’d be pretty shocked to see them.

Best Guest Actor - Drama:

Gerald McRandy on This Is Us (NBC)

Ron Cephas Jones on This Is Us (NBC)

Peter Mullan on Westworld (HBO)

Michael C. Hall on The Crown (Netflix)

Jimmi Simpson on Westworld (HBO)

Matthew Goode on The Crown (Netflix)

Idk, I only feel confident with the This Is Us men. If they’re watching Westworld both those men will get in, but maybe they’re not watching and neither of them are really super famous. Cameron Britton is on everyone’s predictions for Mindhunter but I just don’t think they’re watching it and the only chance that show happens is for David Lynch in directing. I’m terrible with guest and I have no idea who else could get in. Beau Bridges or F. Murray Abraham for Homeland? Alan Alda for The Good Fight? Who knows.

Best Guest Actress - Drama:

Diana Rigg on Game of Thrones (HBO)

Samira Wiley on The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

Marisa Tomei on The Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu)

Rinko Kikuchi on Westworld (HBO)

Cicely Tyson on How to Get Away with Murder (ABC)

Pam Grier on This Is Us (NBC)

This category’s more fun than Guest Actor. Anyway, the top two women are 100% locks and Rigg probably has the win locked up unless something crazy happens. I feel pretty confident with Tomei, even if her role was kinda underwhelming for some, her name should secure the nomination. Kikuchi is a risk, but like with Mullan and Simpson in Guest Actor, if they’re watching the show she should be good. Tyson and Grier are both strong, beloved black women and I’d be happy to see them happen. Cherry Jones could maybe happen for The Handmaid’s Tale, but that would suuuuuck because she literally did nothing. Laverne Cox is in the running too just because she’s loved. Maybe Jodi Balfour or Elizabeth Perkins but I doubt it.

Best TV Movie:

Black Mirror: USS Callister (Netflix)

The Tale (HBO)

Paterno (HBO)

Flint (Lifetime)

Electric Dreams: The Commuter (Amazon)

Oh God this category is soooooooo tragic. The top three are the biggest locks ever, no chance they miss since they were actually decent. Everything else is a crapshoot since nothing good aired lol. Flint got a WGA nomination so that’s literally the only reason I put that in there. Electric Dreams has Philip K. Dick’s on it which helps it. So yeah. Fahrenheit 451 had the hype and the prestige but flopped so bad I don’t want to put it in. It might sneak in for a lack of better options even though it was awful. The Child in Time, Cocaine Godmother, Notes from the Field, and I Am Elizabeth Smart are floating around there too in the running since the cateogry’s so tragic.

Best Limited Series:

The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (FX)

Godless (Netflix)

Twin Peaks (Showtime)

The Looming Tower (Hulu)

The Sinner (USA)

This category’s not as tragic as TV Movie, but there was no Big Little Lies breakout really. The top two are pretty safe I’d say. Twin Peaks has the passion votes which should help it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was so inaccessible it missed. The Looming Tower has prestige but idk if anyone watched it. The Sinner has the ratings and some buzz thanks to Jessica Biel, but idk if it has the prestige. There’s a ton of options that could sneak in though...Patrick Melrose, Genius: Picasso, Top of the Lake: China Girl, Howards End, American Vandal, The Alienist are all in the running. And if there’s a God, Alias Grace will happen but I know it’s not gonna (Netflix isn’t even really campaigning it which is stupid since it was the best limited series of the year BUT WHATEVER).

Best Actor - Limited Series/TV Movie:

Darren Criss on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (FX)

Al Pacino on Paterno (HBO)

Benedict Cumberbatch on Patrick Melrose (Showtime)

Kyle MacLachlan on Twin Peaks (Showtime)

Antonio Banderas on Genius: Picasso (NatGeo)

Jeff Daniels on The Looming Tower (Hulu)

I am feeling pretty confident with these six. Michael B. Jordan was a safe bet for a long time till his movie actually aired and completely flopped. Maybe Jesse Plemons sneaks in but I think these’s too many big names he’s going up against. So yeah, I’m feeling good with this six.

Best Actress - Limited Series/TV Movie:

Laura Dern on The Tale (HBO)

Jessica Biel on The Sinner (USA)

Elisabeth Moss on Top of the Lake: China Girl (Sundance)

Michelle Dockery on Godless (Netflix)

Sarah Paulson on American Horror Story: Cult (FX)

Cristin Milioti on Black Mirror: USS Callister (Netflix)

This category feels kinda bleak, the top two are the only two locks. Hayley Atwell could get in, but I’m not sure anyone actually watched Howards End. Catherine Zeta Jones and Edie Falco starred in stuff that no one really cared about, but their names alone could get them in. I’m holding out hope for Sarah Gadon because she fucking deserves it, but I’d be shocked if she actually happened.

Best Supporting Actor - Limited Series/TV Movie:

Edgar Ramirez on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (FX)

Jeff Daniels on Godless (Netflix)

Jason Ritter on The Tale (HBO)

Bill Pullman on The Sinner (USA)

Brandon Victor Dixon on Jesus Christ Superstar: Live (NBC)

Peter Sarsgaard on The Looming Tower (Hulu)

I’m taking like a million risks here but that’s okay. The top two are totally locks. After that it’s a bit of a mess. The Tale was beloved and Ritter’s performance was fantastic. In such a bleak category, I don’t know why he’s expected to miss. I know he was creepy as hell, but Alexander Skarsgård just won despite that. Ricky Martin, Jimmi Simpson, Michael Shannon, Bill Camp, Michael Stuhlbarg or Cody Fern could totally sneak in, but I’m just not really seeing it. I don’t think anyone watched The Looming Tower and I can’t believe I’m even predicting one of them. Simpson & Fern aren’t famous enough, Martin was barely on the show and didn’t really do much. I would love to see Fern get in though, he totally deserves it.

Best Supporting Actress - Limited Seres/TV Movie:

Penelope Cruz on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (FX)

Laura Dern on Twin Peaks (Showtime)

Angela Lansbury on Little Women (PBS)

Judith Light on The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story (FX)

Ellen Burstyn on The Tale (HBO)

Nicole Kidman on Top of the Lake: China Girl (Sundance)

Like with most these Limited Series categories, I don’t feel good about this at all. I don’t think there’s a single lock. I feel very good about Cruz and Dern, but I also could see them missing. I really, really want to predict Merritt Wever, but I don’t think she’s that beloved yet (even though she won a few years ago lol). It just feels crazy throwing her in there over Nicole fucking Kidman. Jennifer Jason Leigh and Elizabeth Debicki are my other backups.