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#we need a Graham version now
holdinbacksecrets · 5 months
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Hi! Can you please write BTS version of the voicemails they will send hinting their feelings? Thank you 😊
thank you for requesting 🖤
voicemails from bts, hinting feelings
namjoon: “i was in a bookstore the other day and started to imagine a book you wrote being on the shelves someday. everything you do, down to the indentation of your steps, leaves behind a story. do you remember your birthday two years ago? you drank one glass too many, and it’s like the fiction unleashed. i recorded a voice memo, but i never played it for you. i want to.”
jin: “are you scared? this morning you sounded really scared on the phone. i’m sorry i didn’t say more or say enough. i was caught off guard because you’ve never showed me scared before, not like that. i’ve seen your apprehension. i’ve seen your insecure. i’ve seen your anxiety, but this was consuming fear. i’m making dinner, and i feel like you probably haven’t eaten today… if your anxiety gives anything away about your scared. come over when you’re off. i’ll greet you with a hug and bowl of soup. or two bowls. i have cheese and bread too. the good bread. the loaf you turned me on to.”
yoongi: “you used the notes app on my phone to write out your grocery list, and i’m amused. it sounds like you’re having a conversation with yourself: right now, i want rice crispies, but i’ll probably change my mind once i’m in the cereal aisle. trust your gut, or get two boxes. you’re 26. no one is stopping you. oh! get some apple juice too. i keep having dreams about twelve year old me at a friend’s house. we’d sit at the kitchen island after school with graham crackers and apple juice, and i miss her. i miss those simple conversations. you’re so pure and magnetic. sometimes i wonder where you came from, but then i’m just glad you made it here—tumbled into my life because you did tumble. you’ve always made the story sound too elegant. the tumble was charming, i promise.”
hoseok: “you’ve been sharing recipes with me, or i guess i should say the final product of your recipes has been shared with me, repeatedly, and now i’m starting to wait for the knock on my door or the ring of a text. is that bad? i wouldn’t want you to ever think i’m demanding treats, but i love… i love the time we spend together when you bring them over, and your eyes sparkle when my expression changes because of how good everything always tastes… i love that too.”
jimin: “did you say everything you needed to yesterday? i swear your lips parted and you leaned in so many times to never say anything. i know it was a busy place, and it’s not that fun sitting at a table for twelve. but i was ready to listen. i’ll be ready at 2 am too. whatever you need. there’s something to this, right? to the ease of our conversations. you trust me?”
taehyung: “do you want to sculpt clay with me? i bought a whole bag and a bunch of tools. i thought about booking a private lesson, but i wanted my record player and access to a kitchen and the ability to get my hands dirty whenever i want to—need it. do you need it too? if not, keep me company while i try to make something?”
jungkook: “can i pick you up today? this is going to sound ridiculous, but your smell used to linger in my car, and i can’t quite make out the notes of your perfume anymore. i can imagine them, but they don’t meet me when i open the door… i can’t leave this as a voicemail on your phone. can i leave this as a voicemail on your phone? i sound insane.”
bonus: “i’m calling to tell you i’m proud of you. sometimes when we were kids, i used to think our dreams wouldn’t make it higher than the trees. i thought they’d get caught in the leaves, die on branches come winter, but look at us. look at you. you’re incredible. we did it.”
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pesky--dust · 2 days
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We all laugh (or get annoyed) at Jack for being stupid. I do it myself, but let me stand up for him right now.
Let me start quite obviously: Jack had no ill intentions when he brought Will Graham into the FBI's work. He was convinced that Will could save lives and was ready to support him in that — he wanted Alana Bloom to be his psychological support, and when she refused, he went to the psychiatrist she recommended — Hannibal Lecter.
Yes, I'm annoyed myself with how he keep putting pressure on Will (e.g. episode Coquilles: "You go back to your classroom and there’s more killing that you could have prevented, it will sour that classroom forever") and his way of thinking, which he admitted to Hannibal Lecter in Buffet froid, which I will show with a fragment of the script of the said episode:
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(that feeling when you agree with cannibalistic serial killer)
It was after Coquilles in which Will said that he want to quit because it is bad for him, so no Jack, I don't think Will feels the same way.
But this post was supposed to be a defense of Jack Crawford, so let's get back on topic.
Jack didn't know the truth about Hannibal, he didn't know that Will had autoimmune encephalitis, and he had no reason not to believe Hannibal that what was wrong with Will was psychological. After all, Dr. Lecter was the psychiatrist recommended to him! And Jack had every right to believe that Hannibal was giving Will the psychological help he needed in his work with the FBI.
And Hannibal prepared the ground for the version that Will has a mental disorder. The story that Hannibal presented made sense: due to his empathy disorder, Will began to believe that he was G.J. Hobbs and continued his work, ultimately taking the life of his daughter.
Jack recruited Will to work with the FBI, believing in his abilities, but Hannibal made him believe that the job had broken Graham mentally. And it's not unusual for disappointed patients to blame their therapists, so it would be quite a natural turn of events for Will to start claiming that Hannibal is the copycat killer, just to avoid being the one to blame. And there was no evidence against Hannibal, because he took care of it.
And now let me focus on the episode titled Yakimono.
Miriam Lass turned out to be alive. Hannibal's partial fingerprint was found at the place where she was held! And on top of that, Dr. Chilton referenced a cannibalistic joke he heard from Hannibal! And Jack ignored it all!!!
But are you sure? In my opinion, he was already planning to use Will again. I think Jack started to suspect something when Beverly Katz was murdered. In Futamono, he tested the food served at Hannibal's party. No human flesh was found there. With Yakimono though, Will's honey pot act in regards of Hannibal begins.
And my theory may seem to make no sense to you, but let me dig into it.
Let me show you a deleted scene from Kaiseki which I find particularly important, crucial one, here:
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Tl;dr: Hannibal is social anti social, Will can shape him somehow, because Hannibal believes that Will is as unique as him himself.
Which leads to the conclusion that…
To catch Hannibal, the FBI must take advantage of his weakness towards Will.
And during his honey pot act, Will was still working with Jack, so why wouldn't Jack trust him? However, in Mizumono, Will called Hannibal, warning him, which led to the bloodbath, so why, even after hearing in Aperitivo that Will wanted to run away with Hannibal and a part of him would always want to (Dolce), did Jack continue to trust him? I think it was because Jack thought Will blamed himself for Abigail's death and since he was trying so hard to be a parent to her, he thought that if he ran away with Hannibal, Abigail would be still alive. And in the end, Will "got" Hannibal arrested, right?
Why did Jack allow Hannibal's fake escape in The Wrath of the Lamb and involved Will in that?
In my opinion it connects with the paragraph from earlier. Three years had passed, Will had gotten married, adopted his wife's son, so he had mentally recovered from the bloodbath and the death of his surrogate daughter, right? He told Jack he was really happy, right?
Will may have warned Hannibal and wanted to run away with him, but he was the reason Hannibal was caught. Three years have passed and Will has gotten himself together. In front of Jack he was playing (at least partially) about how he doesn't want to be drawn into the "game" he was playing with Hannibal again, he warned Molly that when he came back he would be different (he didn't come back), he said Alana that seeing Hanniabal for the first time in three years made him feel like Hannibal was looking through to the back of his skull; felt like a fly flitting around in there (... and the Woman Clothed with the Sun), he assured her that he wouldn't let Hannibal into his head again. Will seemed to be traumatized by all this. Up until...
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This is the scene where Will is in Jack's office watching what the Dragon has done to Chilton (The Number of the Beast is 666). He looks terrified, panicked, and then suddenly… he becomes sort of relaxed, calm? Would you agree with that? I guess so. But have you ever noticed that there is a transition between these two reactions? It is in front of Jack and Alana that he is terrified, in front of Bedelia he is calm and admits to her that maybe he exposed Chilton to the Dragon on purpose because he actually hates him (just like in the book, although in the book he set Freddy Lounds up to the Dragon).
Will played in front of Jack until the end. Even when suggesting using Hannibal as bait, Will pretends he's not 100% sure it will work, even though he already had a deal with Francis Dolarhyde (The Wrath of the Lamb). It was us as the audience who knew this, not Jack.
I think that Jack believed Will, because he wanted to; it was his way of trying to rehabilitate himself after what Will had to go through because of him because Jack didn't believe him from the beginning that Hannibal was the Copycat. I think that after it turned out that Hannibal was not only the Copycat Killer, but also the Chesapeake Ripper, Jack decided to never doubt Will's abilities again. And that doomed him, just as Kade Prunnell and Alana Bloom predicted.
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spartanguard · 1 month
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when Emma falls in love [from the vault]
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Summary: When Emma falls in love, I know that boy will never be the same | When she came to Storybrooke, finding love was the farthest thing from Emma's mind. Until she started to get to know Ian, the bartender down at the Rabbit Hole. A crush is the last thing she needs—not when she's in the middle of a murder investigation and her son keeps talking about curses. Or maybe it's exactly what both of them need. [Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift] A/N: This is the next in my series of fics inspired by Taylor Swift's vault tracks (mostly from Speak Now (Taylor's Version), but there will be more!). Wanted to post this before we all died from TTPD tomorrow ;) I think this is also my favorite of the ones I've written so far; hope you like it, too! And, as always, thank you to @optomisticgirl for being the best beta ever. rated T | 6.2k words | AO3
When the door swung open, Emma was half expecting it to be someone from downstairs yelling at her to stop her pacing; too many years living in crappy apartments had done that to her. But it was just Mary Margaret, coming home from work.
That said— “Uh, you okay? If you pace any harder, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” her roommate remarked.
“Ugh, sorry,” Emma answered, taking a seat at one of the barstools at the counter. “It was that or attacking the toaster again.”
“You didn’t get fired again, did you?” Mary Margaret asked as she set a bag of groceries on the counter. “‘Cause last I checked, you were your own boss.”
Emma scoffed. “No; just…other stuff.” She swallowed. “Boy stuff?” (She wasn’t sure why she said it like it was a question, other than the fact that she’d never been one to talk about relationships or anything—never had anyone she could talk to about that, so she wasn’t sure if this was the right way to start.)
“Well, that’s convenient,” Mary Margaret said, and reached into the paper sack. “I bought wine,” she finished, pulling out a cheap screw-top bottle of rosé.
“Might need more than that.”
“Good thing I got two,” she answered, producing another.
They curled up at opposite ends of the couch, not even bothering with wine glasses. After a few (hefty) sips, Mary Margaret looked at her pointedly and Emma was suddenly very aware of why her students respected her so much. “Okay. Spill.”
Emma sighed, but obliged. “Okay, you know the bartender down at the Rabbit Hole?”
“Not well, but I know who he is. Ian, right?”
“Yeah, Ian Johnson. He, uh…I mean, I…” She hummed. “I think I like him.”
“Oh my god, you sound like one of my fifth graders,” Mary Margaret replied. “You’re attracted to him? Or maybe a little more?”
Emma took another pull from her bottle. “Maybe a lot more.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
(His ass was fantastic, but that was beside the point.) “But…you know how I am. My history. It hasn’t really been that long since Graham…” She still had a hard time saying died.
“I know,” Mary Margaret said softly. “No one says you have to rush into anything. But if you’re feeling something, it doesn’t hurt to pursue it. Especially if he seems to reciprocate.”
Well, that was her other conundrum, wasn’t it: did he? Much like her, he wasn’t really prone to showing emotion—not noticeably, at least; he wore an air of apathy as well as he did his dark-wash jeans. In fact, she didn’t give him much thought after she first met him—when she’d been called to the bar to drag Leroy to the drunk tank on one of her first overnight shifts as a deputy. 
She’d definitely seen him, though; Ian was certainly easy on the eyes—perfectly disheveled hair above light blue eyes, just the right amount of gingery stubble, and a hint of chest hair visible through the open vee of his appropriately tight henley—but her thoughts towards him didn’t go deeper than the surface. She also hadn’t missed the quick once-over he gave her, though she couldn’t tell if it was in appreciation or merely assessment.
It wasn’t until her following visit (Leroy’s next trip to the station’s overnight accommodations) that he did more than hum at her, but there was very little effort in the casual pickup line he threw at her (and she did her damnedest to ignore the lilt of his foreign accent).
She knew his kind—or so she thought: the type of asshole who hid behind a pretty face and a quick come-on and that was all it took to get into a girl’s pants. Frankly, that was something she’d fallen for a few too many times, but not here—not in Storybrooke. Not when Regina was constantly looking for a reason to send her out of town (even if she won that sheriff election fair and square, Gold’s involvement notwithstanding) or limit her time with Henry.
It wasn’t until the first time she got a call at the bar after Graham died that she exchanged more than passing pleasantries with him. Ian wasn’t the first to express his condolences, but he was the first to say, “It’s just not fair.” That was exactly how she felt, too. And that’s when things started to shift between them.
(Apparently, he and Graham went way back—he didn’t specify how far, but it sounded like a while, the kind of vague forever that seemed prevalent in such a small town. Graham had helped him out of a few scrapes, and vice versa. “He was a good man,” Ian had concluded. “Seems those always go too soon.” It felt like there was more to go with that statement, but then “Only the Good Die Young” had come on the jukebox and it was a little too on the nose and she had to get out of there.)
But it really took a turn the night he intervened while she was breaking up a bar fight, getting in the way of a drunken punch meant for her and taking it in the cheek instead. (That was also the night she finally noticed his left arm ended not in a hand, but a prosthesis, as she made the assailant wait in the squad car while she put together an ice pack for Ian’s face; she also found out that night that he mixed a mean whiskey sour.)
So they were…she wasn’t sure if they could really say “friends” after that—not quite a team, either; allies, maybe? Whatever it was, it was definitely something she needed. 
She started to run into him at Granny’s after that. The first time, she was getting her morning coffee before heading into the station; he was getting some tea before heading home after closing the bar. Then they’d see each other at lunch hour; if the diner was full, they shared a booth. But then that became something of a habit, too, on the days he didn’t close and she didn’t work overnight (though they eventually started another of sharing a drink at the end of their late-night shifts).
Admittedly, it was a little awkward at first; Emma had never been great at the whole small-talk thing (and even worse at the making-friends thing)—but on the bright side, so was he. She found out little things, like when a favorite song would come on (“Behind Blue Eyes” was up there, unsurprisingly/heartbreakingly), or when she’d ask for a liquor recommendation (rum—always rum). She let slip at one point how much she enjoyed Motown, and he quickly picked up on her hot chocolate order.
More solid information came to light later; as she’d guessed, he was a loner, too—no family left, and had drifted around England and the US until he ended up in Storybrooke, somehow. He made an appreciative comment about her being a fellow jailbird over a beat-up copy of that awful article in the Mirror, but his face fell when she mentioned how old she’d been—a rare emotional moment for him. (But not as intense as when she’d commented on the tattoo on his forearm late one night, and the unmistakable look of loss took over; all they could do at that point was make a toast to living through heartbreak.)
It was…she didn’t want to say easy, but it was nice—there were no expectations, no responsibilities. Just the pleasure of each other’s company, and a sense of kindred comraderie. 
She was also aware, but ignoring the fact, that the less she knew, the better. There was less chance that he was lying to her or holding something back; less chance for him to get disappointed in who she was. (Less chance to be hurt.) 
“He does, right?” Mary Margaret’s question dragged her back to the present. 
Which brought Emma to the downside of being attracted to someone whose walls abutted hers: it was hard to get a read on what was going on in his head, especially when he wasn’t outwardly expressive (more than when they first met, but it was still rare). All she could do was shrug at her roommate and take another pull of wine. 
“Yeah, he’s always come off as kind of aloof,” Mary Margaret agreed. “Not altogether unfeeling—more like, not a lot?”
Emma was the last person to make any comments there. What was it she’d said to Graham? “Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you're feeling sucks.” They both had reason enough for that. 
“But it looks like you’ve gotten closer to him than anyone in a while,” her roommate went on, “and vice versa?”
“More or less,” Emma conceded. “Present company notwithstanding.”
“I’m honored. And you know what I say about hope,” she answered. 
Emma did, but wasn’t sure she was ready to say she was that far in. She extended the end of her bottle to Mary Margaret, who clinked her own against it in solidarity. 
By the end of the night, she had no further clarity on the situation and the beginnings of a hangover. Maybe she was overthinking it—or maybe it wasn’t even worth overthinking; it’s not like these things ever worked out in her favor anyway.
But…she did keep thinking about hope. 
———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———
Her friends eventually dragged her out to the Rabbit Hole for a girls’ night. They’d cited the fact that she missed all the excitement on Valentine’s Day, with Ashley’s engagement, so she needed to make up for it. 
Despite still being new to the whole having-female-friends thing (having any friends, really), she had fun. Ian poured the drinks strong and sent more than a few small, sideways grins her way as he watched her dance with the others. She was hoping her subsequent blush could be blamed on exertion or alcohol, except—
“Oh my god,” Ruby yelled at her as they returned to their booth for a refreshment. “Just go screw him already.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been eye-fucking the bartender all night! Go do something about it!”
Well, now her cheeks surely matched her bright red dress—and, to make it worse (or better, Ruby would probably say), when she glanced over at Ian a moment later to see if he’d heard, he was smirking and raised an eyebrow as soon as she caught his eye.
(They hadn’t crossed that line yet but—it had been close. She’d been all too aware of the proximity of their lips when she was helping him shut down last week and they’d collided in the back hall—her hands on his firm chest, his coming to her waist, the dart of her eyes to his mouth—she’d basically sprinted out of there.)
There was definitely an itch to scratch, but she wasn’t about to go there with him. Because she knew, with him, it would be so much more than that. (And if he didn’t reciprocate…that would be even worse.)
“So I hear you’ve been hanging out with the bartender,” Regina asked her one day after she dropped Henry off at the mayor’s house.
Emma shrugged. “I guess,” she answered, downplaying whatever it was they had—if only because she had a feeling Regina would find a way to weaponize it. 
(Also, he was good with Henry—like, really good, maybe even better than she was. For someone who didn’t appear to care much about…anything, he always seemed to brighten and engage so much more around her kid whenever they ran into him at Granny’s. He even indulged Henry’s theories about the “curse”, but her son hadn’t decided who Ian was in this supposed other life. Emma didn’t have any ideas, either, if only because that meant Ian was the one person safe from Henry’s childlike scrutiny.)
“Even with everything he’s done?”
That got her attention. “What has he done?”
“More like what hasn’t he done; you’re the sheriff—you could look up his rap sheet. He’s got some blood on those hands—well, hand. Has he even mentioned how that happened?”
“No,” Emma said stiffly. “He hasn’t.”
“I don’t suppose he’s mentioned anything about his ex either, then. Who was married.”
“Uh, no.”
“Well, maybe you should look into it—so you can be aware of just who you’re allowing around my son.”
The mayor pointedly closed the door at that, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts—never a good combination. She was mulling it over on the drive to the station—how much did she actually believe what Regina was saying? 
But her curiosity was too piqued to let it rest. She felt like the biggest asshole, but after she got settled for the start of her shift, she ended up in the records room, particularly in front of the drawer labeled H–J.
As much as she didn’t want to—she had to know. She slid the drawer open and dug through the folders, until she found the one near the back labeled Johnson, Ian Brennan.
It was thick.  His ‘jailbird’ comment from a while back returned to her; she thought he’d been joking at the time.
She didn’t look inside until she was in her office, with the door shut—not that she expected any visitors, least of all him (he was working anyways), but she still felt like she was doing something wrong, even if she had perfectly legal access to these files.
She took a deep breath and flipped it open.
Ian was glaring at her from the photo paper-clipped to the stack of forms—a bit younger, a bit angrier than the man she knew, with a fire in those blue eyes she’d never seen, even from behind a layer of guyliner and shaggy bangs. 
Beneath it, typed out, it listed his name, birthdate (although the year was smudged beyond recognition), that he was born in England, and a charge for drunk driving.
The next sheet: illegal possession of a firearm.
The next several that followed included a handful of drug-related charges, mostly involving the transporting of them.
The last page said manslaughter.
She slammed the folder shut and threw it in the empty bottom drawer of her desk.
In vain, she tried to pretend she hadn’t seen it. Maybe someone planted it there? She wouldn’t put it past Regina, though as to why, she couldn’t guess. The comments about an affair, though—she’d done the whole dating-a-married-guy thing; it hadn’t ended well, but it still wasn’t something she was keen on.
For the next week or so, she managed to avoid him—took all her Granny’s orders to go; sent Ruby to deal with anything at the bar; and one time, ran down an alley when she saw him coming the opposite way down the sidewalk. (She didn’t say she was mature about it…or subtle.)
When she got home later that week, there were two bottles of rosé on the counter again. “My turn,” Mary Margaret said, handing one over.
Was infidelity just a thing here? Because now her roommate was dealing with it, too. Emma’s opinion of David wasn’t the highest at the moment—he couldn’t string her best friend along and stay with his wife—but the longer Mary Margaret pursued this, the more heartache it was gonna cause.
“Thanks for talking to me about it,” she said, halfway through the bottle. “What about you? How are things with Ian?”
Emma took a long, long drink. 
“Gotcha,” Mary Margaret said knowingly.
———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———
It came to a head when she was in the station one morning, having arrived to her shift early in order to avoid seeing him at the diner. She was dealing with some paperwork when she heard the front door open. “In here,” she called out, assuming it was Regina telling her off for something she hadn’t done right. Footsteps approached. “What would you like to yell at me about today, Madam Mayor?” she asked sarcastically.
“I hadn’t planned on yelling, but I did want to ask why you’ve been avoiding me.”
Oh shit. Ian was there in the doorway, a coffee cup and bag from Granny’s in his hand, and a serious set in his stare.
“I haven’t,” she lied, then turned back to the computer screen (not that it was doing anything—it still ran Windows 98, after all). “I’ve just been busy.”
“See, I’m actually quite perceptive,” he replied, then stepped forward to set the foodstuffs on the corner of her desk. “And this? This is avoiding.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Yeah,” she had to admit. They’d always been honest with each other, even if they’d clearly withheld some things. And given how poorly her attempted lie a moment ago went, it would be dumb to try to again.
“What is it, love? Did I do something wrong?”
She opened her eyes to look up at him, and regretted it—he looked genuinely hurt. What she was about to do probably wouldn’t help.
Staying seated, she bent down to open the bottom drawer on her desk, and then pulled out his file. Then she carefully set it in front of her.
He immediately recognized it, she could tell. “Ah.”
“I’m sorry; I was talking to Regina and she said some things and—curiosity got the best of me.”
“I see.”
She couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt—or both—but either way, she felt like an ass. May as well throw fuel on the fire. “She mentioned something about your ex, too—specifically, her marital status.”
“She did, did she?” His words were suddenly emotionless.
“Is…is that all you’re gonna say?” she eventually asked quietly.
He blinked slowly, as when he opened his eyes, they were just a bit duller—a bit more reserved. (That was worse than anything else she’d seen recently.)
“What else needs to be said, Swan?” he shrugged. “You apparently have all you need to know right there, between that and whatever the mayor has told you.”
His gaze settled somewhere near the floor and silence stretched uncomfortably between them. Even louder to her, though, was the fact he was just…accepting it. 
“Seriously?” she snapped. “You’re not gonna defend yourself, or fight back at whatever is incorrect in my assumptions?”
He furrowed his brow. “What good would it do?”
“Show me you give a crap!” she shouted, standing so fast it sent her rolling chair sliding into the wall. “Because I’m trying to figure out whatever the hell this is,” she went on, gesturing between them, “but I can’t tell if you actually care or not.”
Finally, something steely settled in his gaze. 
“Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you’re feeling sucks,” he stated, plainly but pointedly. 
She swallowed at the recitation of what she once had said to Graham. She already knew she wasn’t the first sheriff to strike up a friendship with him, but she was probably the only one Ian had thrown their own words back at. 
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it go away,” she countered. 
“If you do it long enough, it does.”
“And then what? You just never feel anything for the rest of your life?” God, Mary Margaret was really rubbing off on her—though that didn’t mean her calling him out wasn’t a little hypocritical. 
“It had been working well for me.”
“Fine then,” she spat. “You can go back to your lonely existence and I’ll fuck off to mine and we’ll just leave it at that.” She crossed her arms and curled in on herself; she was definitely pouting, but the alternative was flopping back in her seat and crying. 
His face relaxed, almost going the other way into a frown. “Bloody hell, that’s not what—no, love, I—I just thought you knew me better than that,” he admitted, almost apologetically. 
“Well, apparently I don’t,” she parroted back. “I’m wondering if I know anything about you. This is some serious shit, Ian.”
“And I thought you of all people might understand that,” he said matter-of-factly. “I remember the headlines after you arrived in town; just because you have a badge now doesn’t mean you’ve always been on the right side of the law, either.”
“I’m not pretending I didn’t!”
“Neither am I. I just don’t go broadcasting it, given that I still have the option not to.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be telling people I killed someone either.”
“I—” He started to talk, but then closed his mouth and clenched his jaw. After taking a deep breath, he said, “Not that I really need to, but can I tell you the full story? Before you completely write me off?”
She nodded, but held back what she was really thinking: that she didn’t want him to write himself off. 
“I did get into some bad shit,” he started. “My brother was gone, my ex had just died, and I was suddenly an amputee, so I was alone and spiraling. Fell in with the wrong crowd—classic story. Got in deep with a drug ring, and then I got caught. Killed a member of a warring cartel in the process. But, by some miracle, I had a great lawyer. They got a few of the charges thrown out for lack of evidence and I reached a plea deal on the others, along with a heavily reduced sentence for my cooperation in taking down much of the rest of the ring. Did my time, now I’m here. And I regret it every day.”
“Damn.” That was heavier than expected. 
“Aye.” He scratched nervously behind his ear. “Anything else?”
She chewed her bottom lip; she was nervous to ask, but she had to. “So, your ex…”
“My ex was married when we met. But it wasn’t a happy marriage. And I didn’t lure her away, or whatever may have been said—she ran off with me. But I loved her, so I went with it. Until her husband found us and went mad. Tried to cut off my hand; stabbed her. Doctors had to take it the rest of the way off,” he explained, raising his prosthesis. “Add that to the list of reasons why I fell in with the wrong people.” 
Fuck. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”
“Indeed.” He toyed with the fingers on his false hand for a moment, and then looked back up at her. “But Swan, why couldn’t you just ask me that? Rather than take the word of a woman who we’ve all seen lie to you—to everyone—before.”
She swallowed. “Because I couldn’t take the chance I was wrong about you.”
“Were you?” 
It took her by surprise. “Was I what?”
“Were you wrong about me?” He was staring back at her intently, like he hadn’t just asked a simple but potentially earth-shattering question—but also looked like he was bracing for impact.
She nearly stopped breathing. Not that she had planned any part of this conversation, but when she imagined talking to him again, she thought it’d be more about her figuring out whether he’d let her inside his walls. Logically, it was only fair that he did the same; it was just the first time anyone had followed her in—not to mention challenged her once they were there. (Especially not someone with intense blue eyes, bolder than she’d yet seen them.) And she didn’t know how to respond.
“Because I know I’m not the biggest catch or anything—I’m certainly not Graham—” he went on (and apparently knew where to sting her), “and yeah, I probably still drink a bit more rum than is advised, but other than this—” he nodded at the folder, “—I’ve been nothing but honest with you. So now it’s up to you to decide: whatever it is you’re worried about—were you wrong?”
It had been a long-ass time since anyone had been that bluntly honest with her. (And never someone she was interested in.)
He was right—her lie detector had never gone off with him, either. (It also hadn’t when Regina was gossiping, but it was a little less accurate with noticing exaggerations or omissions.) 
He’d never really answered her earlier question, though. “I just need to know one thing,” she said as she stepped around the desk. “I’m not alone in feeling…this, right?” she asked, blatantly stepping into his space. 
“No,” he confirmed on a breath.
“Then no, I wasn’t wrong. I think what I was actually scared of…was that I was right.”
“Right?”
She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and quickly found his lips, kissing away any further confusion. (As she was finding out, they were both a bit better at nonverbal communication.)
(And he did taste a bit like rum, but—she liked it.)
———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———
She wanted to say things changed from there—they took it fast, or slow, or whatever—but in reality, their relationship really didn’t change. There were still the meals at Granny’s, the nights at the bar. She’d never really been a date-night kind of girl. But emotionally—woah. 
It was like she was seeing a whole other side of Ian—but at the same time, it felt like it had always been there, just hiding below the surface. It wasn’t a universal thing—he was still a bit reserved while at work, or around just about anyone other than her and Henry—which made what they had feel all the more special.
There were also more than a few makeout sessions sprinkled in there, too. (Being chased out of the back hall of Granny’s by said proprietress, giggling like teenagers, was one of her more cherished memories since arriving here.)
For a short while, it was simple and sweet and it made her happy. For a little bit, she maybe had the kind of life she’d always hoped—with her son, friends, and a guy she really liked.
But it was like the universe noticed or something—no, Emma Swan couldn’t simply have nice things. Shit always, inevitably hit the fan.
Starting with having to arrest and book her roommate for murder.
She texted ahead and he had a shot waiting for her when she got to the bar after, then a couple more after that. She was definitely loitering—and he could tell. “What is it, love? Aside from the obvious.”
One thing she’d realized: he was exceedingly good at reading her, like a book he couldn’t put down.
“I don’t want to go back to the apartment,” she admitted. “It’s not that I’m afraid to be alone, but knowing that she’s in a cell and I’m there—and that someone may have been in the loft—I just…it freaks me out a bit.”
He swallowed. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but…I could go with you,” he offered. “At least to make sure everything is safe.”
“I’d like that.”
The walk to the loft from the Rabbit Hole was short but filled with energy; there was literally no reason for her to be any sort of excited, but she never invited guys back to her place. Even if she had no plans of anything intimate happening, this was something of a big step for her.
Of course, it ended up being anticlimactic—there was nothing amiss in the flat—but she was still hesitant to want to leave his presence, while at the same time not wanting to seem needy or like she was coming onto him in a subversive way.
“I, uh, could sleep on the couch, if you’d feel better,” he offered, doing that adorable nervous scratch behind the ear. Right—it had been a while for him with this kind of stuff, too.
“Um, yeah, I would. Thanks.”
That was the night she learned he snored—but the sound eventually lulled her to sleep, too.
As it did for the next few nights.
Then came the one after she narrowly escaped that crazy Jefferson’s house with Mary Margaret. She was still shaking as she took the stairs to the apartment and almost didn’t notice Ian sitting on the landing, nearly tripping over his feet.
“Swan, what’s wrong? You never answered my texts so I got worried and came here and, well—I wasn’t sure who to call when the sheriff is the one missing.”
She invited him in—or tried to, but she was trembling so much, she could barely get the key in the lock. Not until his steady hand wrapped around hers and helped. 
Once inside, she nearly collapsed just closing the door—both out of relief, and because her adrenaline was finally wearing off. But Ian caught her. And for the first time in years, she let herself be comforted by someone else. (She didn’t cry—she wasn’t ready for that kind of vulnerability yet—but this was kind of a big deal.)
“Do you want me to stay on the couch again tonight?” he murmured when she began to sway, fatigue winning over. She shook her head into his shoulder. (Also: he smelled good. Like, real good.) “Should…should I go?” She shook her head again.
Emma wasn’t a spooner. She took what she needed and then she left. But that was the night she understood why people enjoyed it so much. And waking up still wrapped in his strong arms was a kind of comfort she hadn’t known existed.
There was a brief—but weird—reprieve from the emotional heaviness when it turned out Kathryn Nolan was miraculously alive (despite her heart supposedly being outside her body), and then they held a party to welcome Mary Margaret back home. She shared (more than) a few drinks with Ian after the former; their first official outing as a couple, if it could be called that, was the latter. Mary Margaret arched an eyebrow and smirked at her as she and Ian moved around the kitchen getting ready. Emma just blushed—and then blushed harder when Ian pressed a quick kiss on her cheek as he stepped past her.
Then August kind of went crazy—his offer of help in dealing with the Regina-Sidney-whatever turned into another journey of emotional whiplash. She slumped onto what had become her usual stool at the bar, just a few minutes before close. Ian put some tea in front of her rather than anything stronger and took her upstairs after he’d locked up. He lived there, apparently, in a pretty spartan studio apartment. 
“Tell me,” he said gently. Not long ago, she would have brushed something like that off—but not anymore; not with him.
“I’m just tired of all this crap. Not just Regina—the whole curse thing, too. It was fine when it was Henry and I could play along, but now August? And he just—expected me to solve his problem? Just like that? No—no way.” She sighed. “It’s like everyone wants something from me or to fit some role; no one wants just Emma.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he teased lightly. “Because I do.”
Well. She couldn’t argue with that.
And it became all the more obvious when she attacked his lips—and realized the rest of him was in agreement. She’d hesitated to take their relationship to that level; physical relationships were what she was used to, but adding in the emotional layer was something else—something more. 
But, as she learned, that was in a good way.
And while drifting off into a post-coital slumber while wrapped in Ian’s steady arms, she didn’t really care what went on in the outside world—as long as she had this.
———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———
Should have known that’s when it would all really, truly crash down on her. Henry—god—seeing him in that hospital bed…and not being able to do anything…but it worked: she believed. In magic, the curse—everything. (Especially once Regina confirmed it.)
So now she was on a mission, practically storming from the hospital—when she ran into a pair of arms she’d give anything to just be able to take shelter in right now. “Love—is Henry okay? What’s going on?”
For a minute, she just looked in Ian’s eyes: that now-familiar blue that carried a wisdom beyond his years and echoed his every emotion, so different now from when she’d first met him—but in a good way. The way his worry creased his brow, the weight of his hand on her waist. If the world was about to change, she wanted to memorize him—them—in this moment. “Is everything alright?” he asked again.
She rose up on her toes to give him a firm, but all-too-brief kiss. “It fucking will be,” she told him, then ran off to save the world—or something.
———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———
An eternity later (really only a couple hours, but holy shit did it feel longer), she had fought a dragon and then apparently broken a goddamn curse with True Love’s Kiss. All that really mattered was that Henry was okay, but all around her, everyone was coming to terms with what had been done to all of them.
She’d never expected to find out the waitress was a werewolf, or the therapist was a freaking cricket—and really never thought she’d be reunited with her parents. It was amazing, but it was also a lot.
She left Henry with his grandparents—god, grandparents—so she could take a minute and just—breathe.
The salty sea air hit her nose and she realized her feet had taken her to the docks. The view of the sea was soothing, but then she saw someone else there taking in the horizon—someone familiar. He wore the same clothes—the same motorcycle jacket, the black sweater that fit him extremely well, atop his usual dark jeans. But rather than the hand-like prosthesis she’d come to recognize, there was a hook—a freaking stereotypical pirate hook—at the end of his left arm.
(Henry had told her the fairytale counterpart of just about everyone in town—except for Ian. The illustrations in his book were good but maybe not distinct and there were a few options. She had a pretty good idea who it was narrowed down to now, though.)
“Ian?” she asked as she approached, partly to get his attention—and partly because she wasn’t sure who she was talking to.
He turned at the sound of her voice, but looked confused. Until he blinked and shook his head. “Aye, it’s me,” he answered, moving toward her. “My real name, though—it’s Killian, Killian Jones; it…took me a minute there.”
Killian. Similar, but different. It suited him. 
But also: Kill-Ian—was the man she held so important now gone, effectively killed by his new—true—self?
“So…how much was real? About you?” she had to ask.
“Some of it.” Apparently that nervous ear scratch carried over. “I am—was—am? A pirate, for decades, until I was caught.”
“Captain Hook?” she wondered, nodding at his prosthesis.
“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he smirked. It was similar to the one she knew—the same dimple—but it had a darker edge to it.
“Who hasn’t?” she replied, ignoring the bit of discomfort that was…well, adding to her overall sense of unease.
“The truth—my actual life—is a bit more gruesome than what I once told you. I wanted revenge for the murder of my love. That part was true—she had been the Dark One’s wife, and he killed her, then took my hand.” He emphasized it by toying with the (rather sharp) end of his hook.
Right; Mr. Gold was apparently—actually—a centuries-old sorcerer. “I’m not gonna have to lock you up for going after him, am I?”
“No. See, I got sloppy; I lost sight of things, and that’s how I was caught—by your parents’ kingdom, actually. Was about to be hanged when the Evil Queen’s knight rescued me. Graham.” Her heart skipped a beat. “In return, I offered them my services should they ever need them. Never heard from them again, and then got swept up in the curse.”
She swallowed. “Did she ever take you up on it? During the curse?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“So, us…” God, she couldn’t even put it into words. If what they’d shared wasn’t…hadn’t meant…she couldn’t fathom.
He very quickly moved into her space and took her hand. “That was very real, Swan.” His gaze had never felt more intense as he went on. “It was my understanding that the curse twisted things—changed us. I had always been someone who felt things very strongly and deeply; it’s why I was so single-mindedly focused on revenge for decades. But then under the curse…I felt nothing—not a bloody thing, for years on end—until I met you, and it all came back. It was like my heart was turned back on—like you brought me back to life.” He rubbed his coarse thumb over the back of her hand. “I know you’re probably questioning things again—especially given that you don’t fully know me, the real version, now—but Emma, I still know you, and I still desperately want you.”
She sighed in relief and nearly sagged into his arms. “Good. Because I think I love you.”
He smiled; it started as a small thing, but he couldn’t hold back from turning into a grin. “That’s appropriate, because I’m fairly certain I love you, too.”
There was a lot she needed to figure out—her life was all kinds of a mess right now—but him—this—whoever he was, he was hers. Even if she didn’t fully know him, it still felt like her heart fit right in the palm of his hand (and vice versa).
She wasted no further time in wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his; he was equally quick to reciprocate.
And, actually? Killian kissed even better than Ian did.
———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———
thanks for reading! Tagging some friends (including the fabulous and supportive Word Forge): @ohmightydevviepuu @shireness-says @iverna @thejollyroger-writer @wistfulcynic @phiralovesloki @initiala @idoltina @xpumpkindumplingx @cocohook38 @kmomof4 @colinoeyebrows @pirateherokillian @annytecture @stubblesandwich @wingedlioness @scientificapricot @snowbellewells @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 and I know there's more I tend to include but tumblr is being weird about it rn.
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its-vannah · 1 year
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Along For The Ride | Graham Dunne x Reader
A/N: Y'all need to prepare yourselves, this is as devastating as it gets. Also the CHOKEHOLD this man has over me. I'm posting an alternate version of the same prompt sometime later today, I had two ideas that I just couldn't merge.
Warnings: Groupie lifestyle, angst, implied sex, drug use, alcohol consumption, smoking, OD
Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist
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Warren: Being on the road was fun, and it wasn't just because of the drugs and cheap booze. We had girls from thirty different directions coming at us. That had never happened before.
Eddie: The groupie scene was enjoyable, but I never really got into it. I'd see some of them, but I didn't take it to the level Warren or Graham did. One slept with every girl in a fifty mile radius and the other fell for one he couldn't have.
Warren: We had a few girls go to almost all of our concerts, at least the ones in the states. They couldn't all afford going overseas and we sure as hell weren't going to pay for it. There's no shortage of women who love a guy that can play the guitar, sing, or in my case, play the drums.
Eddie: Graham became infatuated with this one girl, Y/N, while we were touring. It was nice to see him actually get a girl, but he never shut up about it. It was enough to drive you crazy.
Graham: Y/N wasn't just a groupie. Not to me, at least. She was different.
Warren: The thing about groupies is that they only care about one thing: sex. I know from experience. That's not a complaint, by the way.
Graham: Y/N was only seventeen when I met her, and she had ready been through so much. I just wanted to help her.
Eddie: Graham thought he could "fix broken women". He was convinced. None of us had the heart to tell him that some women just don't want to be fixed.
Graham: She'd grown up loving music. In that way, she was just like us. The only difference is that she followed bands around. She got taken advantage of.
Warren: Y/N was a sweet girl. Easy on the eyes, had a fire to her. But she was sad. You could see it. Something wasn't right.
Graham: She sort of just melded right into the band. Started going on tours with us. She'd sit in the backseat with me, laying her head on my chest. It was a good feeling, being with a woman who saw you. Really saw you.
Eddie: Graham was caught up in his feelings for her. He didn't realize how self-destructive she was.
Graham: I found out she was addicted to coke not long after meeting her. She was doing lines in the bathroom while I slept in one of the hotels we were staying at. I begged her to stop, to think it through. I told her I'd be there to help her. She walked out.
Eddie: When I heard she had left, I wasn't surprised. That's what girls like her did. And when Graham told me what happened, I knew why she did.
Graham: I don't think anyone had ever told her they'd help her. It scared her.
Warren: It was quiet without her. Graham wasn't as chatty as he usually was, which was great for Billy, but it made tours boring.
Eddie: Graham started seeing Karen after Y/N left, something we didn't find out until much later. I think he was trying to heal from losing her. Not that he didn't love Karen, he did, but he was so lost. He really wanted to help her.
Graham: I found out she overdosed a few months after she left. I was devestated. The band had already split up, and music couldn't pull me out of that sinking feeling in my chest anymore.
Warren: I don't think he ever really got over her. Even now, she's in the back of his mind.
Graham: I started a foundation to help women struggling with addiction. We get them in counseling, room and board until they get a job that can support them, teach them life skills they may not have been taught when they were younger. It's all to prepare them for adulthood, even if theyre already in it.
Billy: One thing about Graham is that he's got a heart of gold. A part of me always knew it, but I never really acknowledged it. I'm proud of him, being able to turn something that overtook his mind into something that can help other women.
Graham: I don't want another girl's life lost to overdose or addiction. I don't think I could handle seeing it happen again. The band will always be an important part of my life, but I think the foundation is where my heart is.
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beybaldes · 1 year
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maybe you can’t see how much you mean to me
Graham Dunne x Fem!Reader
djats masterlist
word count : 2k
summary : basically a Graham!version of they long to be (close to you) OR the one where you and Graham get a good nights sleep.
thank you for the request @p4landia <33 i hope you like it - i sure enjoyed writing it!
Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered your fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more warren fics xoxo
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"No, it's okay Warren, you go to bed." Warren scooped you up in his arms, placing you down in the spot next to Graham who had already opened up his blanket for you, then pressed a kiss to your cheek. "I'll leave the door open for you."
You'd spent the last 20 minutes convincing Warren to go to bed while you stayed up in hushed tones, not wanting to alert any of the others to your agreement, but not wanting him feel alone. It was never fun trying to sleep in the new environment that was the LA house, but you and Warren were doing your best to make it through a bad situation, whatever the means. Besides, it was nice to have someone to cuddle up with on the colder nights, even if it was someone else in the house you'd rather be cuddled up with.
You let your head fall to Graham's shoulder as Warren placed you down, who pulled his arm out from between the two of you and wrapped it over the back of the sofa. He allowed you to tangle your legs up in his pyjama covered ones, making sure you were comfortable before he turned his attention back to the tv screen. Maybe he'd one day be brave enough to press a quick, but loving, kiss to your cheeks the way Warren just had.
"You and Warren are sleeping together?" Karen had been the one brave enough to ask, the conversation between the two of you not unnoticed by the rest of the group - it being the only thing to break the silence in the past 40 minutes.
All heads turned to you, attention suddenly on something that had the potential to be more interesting then the rerun of Scooby-doo that had just started. "Not like that." You answered softly, eyes still focused on the cartoon dog and his gang on friends, not noticing how everyone else was now looking at you. "We both just like the company of it. I don't think either of us realised how lonely it would be coming out to LA."
Relief swept through Graham's body, him letting out a breathe he didn't realise he'd been holding in as he waited to hear your answer. Sure, you were much more casual with affection then anyone else he knew was, but with Warren it always seemed like more - he was glad to know it wasn't.
"Cute." Camilla mused, a warm smile curling on her lips as she took in that even in your sleep you were reaching out for the touch and warmth of someone else.
"You're always welcome in my bed, sweet-pea." Karen added, a smile curling on her own lips as she managed to take your attention away from the tv. "I swear you run cold. Would be nice in the LA heat."
"You can't steal my blanket buddy." Graham gasped, pulling you tighter against him and furiously tucking the blanket around the two of you. Your head fell from his shoulder and now pressed against his chest at the movement, the beat of his heart a soft call to sleep beneath you. "She's the perfect amount of cold. The windows open, with the blanket, with y/n is the perfect temperature for me."
A smile curled on your face at the possessiveness behind Graham's words, liking how he sounded when he was referring to you as his and perfect. It was something you could easily get used to hearing more often.
"I'm going to have to pass on that one Karen, unless you want to come down to my room." You countered her offer with a soft smile, attention moving back to the tv once more. "Warren says your room is haunted."
Laughter spread through out the room as you sided with Warren even in his absence; he was so sweet to you, and that's what friends do, so how could you not?
"What?" You asked, laughing yourself. "We left it empty until your arrival for a reason." That caused another round of laughter to break out in the room, everyone enjoying the way the two of you were slowly but surely morphing into one person with the more time you spent confined in the LA rental.
A particularly loud shout of "scoob!" from the TV had everyone's attention turned back to the cartoon, letting the nature of your relationship with Warren lie for at least the time being.
By the end of the third episode, only you, Graham and Eddie remained in the room. Graham and you were fast asleep, his head leaning atop yours, the two of you wrapped in what looked like a tight hug, although the blanket hid your entangled legs, and Eddie was sat in the armchair against the wall, legs curled into the seat and a bottle of warm beer in his hands that he'd been nursing for the last half an hour.
As the intro to the next rerun of Scooby-doo blasted from the TV, Graham startled awake, literally jumping out of his seat and pulling the blanket with him. He grumbled some attempt at what you thought was a goodnight, and went to stumble sleepily out of the room, the warmth of him and the blanket leaving you alone on the couch.
Reaching out for him at the last second, you slipped your fingers through his, intertwining your hands. Shuffling through the room to meet him, you murmured a command of 'sleep' dropping your head against his chest once more.
Graham pulled his arm up to rest over your shoulders, his hand in your hair and scratching at your scalp, lulling you back to sleep exactly where you stood.
"One second." You pleaded, removing yourself from his hold and making your way over to Eddie who opened his arms out to you as you waddled into his side. "Goodnight Ed's." You murmured dreamily, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw as your couldn't quite reach his cheek now he was stood up.
"Goodnight birdie." He replied, guiding you back into Graham's arms as he left the room, making his own way to bed. Graham wrapped his arms around your shoulder, keeping you as tucked under the blanket as he could give the situation, and began to lead the two of you back to his room.
"This okay?" Graham asked as he guided you into his bed, pulling the duvet back and getting you settled before he tried to do so for himself. "Want to stay nice 'n warm 'n cuddled up with you."
"Yeah, 'course." You hummed, waiting for Graham to get into the bed with you before you wiggled yourself into his arms, intertwining your legs with him just as you had done on the couch moments ago. You tucked your head under his chin, burrowing yourself into the warmth Graham provided in a much easier way then you had done on the couch.
"Goodnight sunshine." Graham whispered, noticing that you'd already dropped asleep with one of his hands tangled in your hair and the other running up and down the length of your back. He pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, smiling into your skin as he closed him eyes. "Goodnight."
The two of you slept right through the night, tossing and turning though still holding onto each-other, each movement accompanied by the other immediately moving as well to continue the comfortable sleep. Like usual, you were the first awake, you an early riser and Graham waking up as soon as you tried to move out of his hold. Though you'd tried to convince him to go back to sleep, shushing him and running your hands through his hair, he insisted on getting up with you.
And that's how you'd ended up here, your legs tangled with his once more, the little blue blanket covering your lap and two rather large bowls of cereal in hand. The tv had been left on, and now an episode of The Walton's was playing, the early morning tv not being watched but just adding a gentle hum to the room.
Graham had yet to take his eyes off of you since the two of you woke up, his cereal left uneaten in his hand despite you encouraging him to eat it before it got soggy. "You're beautiful, you know that?" He asked, tucking your hair back behind your ear.
"What?" You practically choked on your cereal, moving the bowl to the coffee table and giving Graham your full attention instead.
"You're beautiful." He repeated, cupping your face with one hand while the other reached for your own, intertwining your fingers. "I've just been thinking about it, that's okay."
"Yeah?" You asked, the undivided attention you were giving the brunette having his cheeks flush pink, his eyes moving between your lips and your own.
"Yeah." He answered breathlessly, looking back to your eyes and wetting his lips. "Can I... can I kiss you?"
"Yeah." You answered, not leaving another second for him to make the first move, ducking down and pressing your lips to his in one swift movement. Graham was stunned into stillness, though only for a second, quickly regaining his senses and kissing you back, his lips moving in sync with yours.
Your hands moved up to his hair, tugging and pulling him closer to you as his cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss with every movement of his lips and swipe of his tongue against yours. Graham's other hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you up and guiding you into his lap, you leg swinging over him and settling on either side of his hips comfortably.
At the sound of a door creaking open somewhere down the hall, you pressed your lips against Graham's in one final, long kiss, then another quick softer one, sliding off his lap and cuddling into his side - pulling the blanket over the two of you. As the footsteps got closer to the room, Graham grabbed your cereal for you, picking up his own as well and forcing his attention onto the tv screen a little too hard.
"woah, morning guys." Eddie stumbled through the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tried to find the kitchen with his eyes half closed. "you're up earlier."
"She always is." Graham answered, eyes unmoving from the episode of The Waltons that was beginning to come to an end. "I'm just tagging along."
"So you weren't making out when I came in here?" Grahams hand was quick to smack against your back as you chocked on your cereal, your coughing going away quickly as he helped you. "And you didn't get into bed together last night?"
"If we say no, will you believe us?" You looked at Eddie over the back of the couch, a glass of water in his hands and his eyes squinted tightly shut in an effort to keep the daylight out.
"No. I have eyes." Eddie sassed, taking a sip of his water and running his hand over his face, his hair immediately flopping back in front of his eyes after he pushed it back. He could do with a headband, you thought, making a mental note to but him one the next time you were out. "But I'm not going to say anything. You do you. Night guys."
As soon as you heard Eddie's bedroom door close again, you were back on Graham's lap, letting your empty bowl of cereal fall to the floor and not caring, knowing you'd clean it up later.
"Really?" Graham asked, reaching around you to place his bowl down carefully, unlike how you'd all but thrown it down.
"Really." You didn't waste another second before pulling him in for another kiss, threading your fingers through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, rocking closer to him as the kiss deepened. Pulling back only enough to whisper words against his lips, Graham went in for another kiss, but you stopped him with a gentle push to his chest. "He's definitely gonna tell Warren isn't he."
"Oh, for sure."
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l-1-z-a · 11 months
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Halloween 2003 at Maxis: The Social Bunny
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At the Maxis 2003 Halloween Costume Contest, we were visited by the Social Bunny. In the new version of The Sims, the Social Bunny appears only to those who are in need of extra social, so it's not such a good sign that we could all see it.
Photos courtesy of Komei Harada and Andreas Ramos.
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The social bunny hops into the middle of the crowd to begin a few impromptu socials as (L to R) Kelly Riley, Marion Gothier, Kevin Byall, and Emmy Toyonaga watch.
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Poor social bunny! Someone has rejected the bunny's social attempts, and now he walks away sad. Who wouldn't want a hug from a soft, fuzzy, ratty, stained, one-eyed bunny? Kevin Byall and Charles London watch this sad sight.
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Here's the bunny with a collection of other spirits from the Costume Contest. Back row (L to R): Lisa del Toro, Alvin Go, the Social Bunny, unknown, Justin Graham, BJ West, Cory Tsang, Kevin Byall, David Benson, Wendy Bliss.
Front row: unknown, Suzanne, Jenna Chambers, Gretchen Carlson, unknown.
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Whew! After a hard day of spreading sociality everywhere, the bunny waves goodbye.
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At right, the bunny takes a well-deserved rest. The bunny learned to respect the entertainers who populate our nations' amusement parks... those heads are hot!
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But you can't keep a bunny down for long! Later that night, the bunny popped back up at Patti Wilson's Halloween Party. Patti's friend Naomi looks on as the bunny sees more people in need of social. It's unclear how the bunny's eye returned for this picture, when in fact it was sewn shut until after the evening was over.
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Pay attention to the first 2 photos. They have a printed screenshot on the wall that shows a hot tub. But the UI in this screenshot is not from E3 2003, but from earlier builds with Purple UI:
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The third photo hanging reference photos to something and to the Marrocan style of objects in game.
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goatcheesecak3 · 5 months
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Bus stop Pt. 5
Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x F!reader
M!reader version will be out in the next few days :^)
Includes: brief mentions of past violence, allusion to ptsd/trauma, fluff, angsty themes
Summary: after much persuasion, Adam starts going to therapy. After a few sessions he's ready to face one of his biggest fears.
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Adam and y/n sat in the waiting room of the therapist's office. The couple had been together for six months now, and y/n, who had always proudly gone to and advocated for therapy her whole life, had finally convinced Adam to make an appointment. This was y/n's regular therapist, Dr Luther Graham, a grey haired man in his sixties. He was exactly what you would picture if you imagined santa claus working a day job, a plump and rosy cheeked man with a long snowy white beard stuffed into a suit and suspenders. He was the sort of person anyone would feel safe talking to, which is why y/n was so sure that Adam would benefit from a session with him. Of course Adam, who was skeptical about therapy as a whole, was reluctant to pay him a visit, and only conceded that he would be willing to give therapy a try if y/n promised to go with him.
The waiting room felt like a living room from the sixties, with brown walls, art deco chairs (which looked fun, but weren't the most comfortable), and yellow mood lighting. The room felt welcoming, but in a clinical way, as though it was an alien's perception of what a human home was supposed to feel like, Adam supposed. The brown walls were adorned with certificates and plaques boasting Dr Graham's qualifications. Adam assumed that these were meant to inspire confidence in patients that this was a legitimate doctor who knew what he was doing, but for him they only reminded him of his own lack of high school diploma.
Adam's fingers were entangled with y/n's as the pair sat quietly, waiting to be called into the office. He suddenly felt a small squeeze on his hand, and turned to look at y/n.
"You're biting at your lip again, sweetie" she whispered, "what's wrong?"
Adam shook his head
"Just... this is all kinda new to me"
Y/n gave him a sympathetic smile
"Doctor Graham is lovely, I promise, you don't need to be frightened. If you really don't like it once we get in there, we can go straight home, but you'll be so proud of yourself for at least giving it a try"
Adam smiled weakly, and held y/n's hand tighter.
A wooden door creaked open, and out popped a smiling Doctor Graham's head.
"You must be Adam" he beamed, "come on in, I'm sure y/n's already told you about how this all works"
Adam shot y/n a terrified look.
"Oh, Doctor Graham, Adam was hoping I would be able to come in with him for his first session, just to make him feel more safe" y/n said calmly
"That's absolutely fine, whatever makes you most comfortable, Adam" Dr Graham smiled.
In the office were two sofas facing eachother, one which seated Doctor Graham, the other Adam and y/n. The silence was punctuated only by the ticking of an ancient looking grandfather clock, until Dr Graham spoke.
"So Adam, why don't you start by telling me a bit about yourself?
Adam turned to look at y/n, almost for approval. His eyes were asking "can I trust him? Can I tell him about me?"
"Go on, sweetheart, you don't need to be afraid" y/n encouraged him.
Adam let out a deep breath and began to speak.
"My name is Adam, I'm twenty-six and I'm a photographer. Oh, and I was kidnapped by a serial killer a few months back" he scoffed, in that familiar unserious tone.
It wasn't that Adam took what he went through lightly, quite the opposite in fact, it was just that he could only even begin to broach the subject in a jokey manner or else he'd begin to spiral.
"Would you care to elaborate on that last point for me, Adam?" Doctor Graham enquired.
"I don't really like talking about it" Adam replied.
"I understand that, not wanting to talk about a traumatic event isn't unusual. But I'm certain you often think about what you endured. Perhaps you might find some comfort in articulating those thoughts out loud, Adam. Legally I can't tell anyone about what's said in this room, so it would be just as private as your thoughts, only this way you get some advice in return" Dr Graham said.
Adam stared at his feet and considered what the doctor had said. If he was being honest with himself, it sounded like a good deal, but he was still unsure.
"You know, Adam," y/n said,  "maybe you'd feel like you could talk more freely if I stepped outside? People tend to get the most out of therapy when they have privacy"
Adam shook his head
"No, I can't do this without you, don't leave" his voice had a tinge of desperation to it, and his grip on her hand tightened, something which Doctor Graham seemed to pick up on.
"You've made it clear that you feel safer in y/n's company, why is that, Adam? Enlighten me" he asked.
Adam let out a deep breath that he didn't know he was holding.
"Y/n takes care of me and we love eachother, why wouldn't I want her to stay?"
"Well that makes sense, but judging from your reaction when you thought she might leave the room, perhaps it's less to do with you feeling comforted by her presence, but moreso afraid of her absence. Tell me, Adam, have you experienced any significant abandonment in your life?"
Adam was absolutely floored by this, Doctor Graham seemed to be able to read him like a book. His bit his lip and stared at the floor, his body tense and uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat.
"I suppose you could say that, yeah... when I was being held captive there was this doctor who was being held with me, he managed to escape and he said he'd get help but the asshole never came back."
His voice was laced with anger and hurt.
"Thank you for sharing that, Adam, I know that must have been difficult for you" Dr Graham said, "is the fear of abandonment a regular thought for you?"
Adam nodded
"I try not to let it get to me but... I don't know, I guess it's something I worry about a lot"
The conversion got a lot deeper over the hour long session, Adam opened up about his time spent in the bathroom, about how he was scared of the dark and how the sound of metal clanging put him straight back in that room. And of course, how bathrooms as a whole were something he did his best to avoid, only showering if he really had to. Dry shampoo and deodorant had been his best friends for the last few months.
"Well, that about wraps it up for today's session. Well done for being so candid and honest Adam, I hope you'll benefit from this"
"Um... thanks" Adam bit his fingernail nervously, but managed a small smile. He really was proud of himself.
"Do you think maybe... I could book another one of these? For like next week or something?" He asked shyly.
"Of course, I'm very glad you've found this helpful" Doctor Graham beamed, "I'll book you in for the same time next week?"
...
Later that day, y/n was over at Adam's apartment folding up some of his clothes and putting them away, while Adam sat on the bed bundled up with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He had been feeling somewhat vulnerable after opening up and reliving his trauma earlier on, so he was enjoying being babied a bit. Y/n had made him a warm mug of tea and taken care of any chores he needed doing around the apartment, just to give him some time to recover.
Although Adam did indeed look adorable all wrapped up, he was beginning to smell... ripe was the kind way to put it.
"Sweetheart?" Y/n asked
"Hm?"
"I was thinking about what you said earlier, about not liking bathrooms... and I was wondering if I could help you with that?"
Adam froze, his entire body tense and immediately afraid.
"Only if and when you're comfortable, maybe I could run you a bath and I'll get in with you, to make sure you know you're not on your own?"
Adam bit his lip and looked away, embarrassed.
Of course he wanted that in theory, sharing a relaxing bath with his beautiful girlfriend was any man's dream, but the reality? He was frightened. He could barely take a two minute shower, let alone a full bath.
"You don't have to make any decisions yet, but when you're ready I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?" Y/n said, her voice soft and gentle, as though she were worried that she may scare him away.
Adam nodded, and retreated further into his blanket, feeling uneasy at the prospect of taking a bath.
"Oh sweetheart, come here" y/n said lovingly, taking a seat beside him and wrapping her arms around him, "I don't care how long it takes, I'm never giving up on you baby"
She pressed a kiss into Adam's temple, as his body relaxed and fell into her, clinging onto her tshirt tightly.
...
A week later,  Adam was due to stay at y/n's house overnight. He'd had an appointment with Doctor Graham earlier on in the day, alone this time, and had reached the conclusion that he was ready to tackle his fear of bathrooms. He was terrified, but he knew it was time. He texted y/n.
Adam: I think I want to try having a bath
Y/n: sweetheart, I'm so proud of you! Do you want to try at my place tonight?
Adam: yeah, I think I do
But I'm still really nervous
I might chicken out at the last minute
Y/n: the fact that you're even considering it is such a huge step, well done baby :) how about when you come over, ill run you a bath and you can decide later if you think you're ready to get in. We'll take this at your pace, okay honey?
Adam: that sounds good. Thank you :)
Adam arrived at y/n's apartment feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He hated feeling so helpless, so vulnerable. He wanted nothing more than to overcome his fear, but it was difficult for him. Every thought in his brain was screaming at him to turn on his heels and run home, but he wanted to be brave, and he knocked on the door.
Y/n welcomed him in with a smile and a much needed hug, before escorting him to the sofa and placing an already made mug on hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of him. She'd made it just the way Adam liked, with marshmallows and lots of cream- he had a real sweet tooth.
"I know you're nervous, but I want you to know that you don't have to do this if you don't think you're ready. Just relax and enjoy your drink, no one's gonna be upset if you don't think you can do it yet" y/n cooed, sensing Adam's fear before he had even spoke.
"Thank you" he smiled weakly, "I was thinking, maybe we could start with me just standing in the doorway to the bathroom, and I can watch while you run the bath? Just to get myself prepared?"
Y/n felt her heart ache. She was so proud of her sweet boy for being so brave, he really was trying, but it just killed her to see him so scared. Something so small, just being in a bathroom made this grown man tremble with fear like a beaten dog. She silently cursed the name jigsaw for doing this to such a sweet man.
"Alright sweetheart, if you think that might help" she replied, wiping a small bit of hot chocolate off of the corner of Adam's mouth, making him chuckle slightly.
Adam finished his drink, and hesitantly followed y/n to her bathroom. It was a simple room, not much that was worthy of note, but one thing which comforted Adam was the cleanliness of it all. No dirt, no grime, it even had a light floral smell emanating from a bowl of potpourri on the windowsill.
He stood in the doorway to the room, hugging himself and watching longingly as his girlfriend fearlessly entered the room. He wished that he could do that too.
"Alright, babe, I'm gonna turn the tap on now, I'll make sure we get the bath nice and warm okay?"
Adam couldn't speak
"Look, I've even got some bubblebath to try and make it feel a bit less serious" she comforted, showing a bottle of lavender scented bubblebath to him.
"O.. okay" Adam nodded.
As the minutes went by, Adam watched as the tub filled up, and the time to actually enter the room drew closer. With every passing second his heartbeat grew stronger, until he swore he could practically taste his pulse. He swallowed a lump that seemed to be forming in his throat and bit his lip, like he always did when he was anxious.
"Are you ready?" Y/n's voice interrupted his train of thought.
Adam shook his head, "I don't ever think I'll be ready" he laughed wearily, trying not to let himself spiral. Despite the way he felt, Adam began to get undressed, pushing through his fear as best as he could.
Y/n had removed her clothes as well and was ready to get into the bath.
"You wanna do this together?" She asked, holding her hand out for Adam to take it. His own hand trembled like a leaf, he breathed heavily through his nose, as he shut his eyes and took a step forward into the bathroom.
"Well done, sweetheart, you're doing so well"
He flinched slightly as his bare feet touched the cold tile ground, a feeling he knew all too well, but soon his feet found themselves on a soft and fluffy bathmat, and his fears depleted.
Stood next to the bath, hand in hand with y/n, Adam stared down into the water. The last time he'd been in a bath was when he had woken up in one, fully clothed, freezing and shackled to a pipe. This was nothing like that, he thought. The water looked warm and enticing, almost welcoming.
"You don't have to if you don't want-"
"No." Adam cut y/n off, "I need to do this. I.. I don't want to be scared anymore"
His words sounded confident, but his voice trembled. Tightening his grip on y/n's hand, he stepped into the water.
Y/n stepped in with him, her soft hands making their way around his body, holding him in a tight hug.
"Baby, I'm so proud of you" she whispered, kissing his cheek.
Adam gulped, he could feel his breaths becoming shallow, but he knew it was now or never.
"If.. if I sit down will you hold me?" He asked, his lips quivering
"Of course honey, I'll even wash your hair for you" y/n replied, her voice calm and reassuring. Everything about her brought Adam peace, she was his personal sanctuary. If she was with him, he could do anything.
With a deep breath, Adam sat down in the bath, leaning back into y/n's chest and letting the warm water run over his body. Y/n was hugging him tightly from behind, placing gentle kisses into the crook of his neck.
"So brave, I'm so proud of you honey"
Adam relaxed into her touch. He didn't say much, just allowed himself to feel her loving hands all over him. The way they carefully massaged his scalp with a sweet smelling shampoo, the way they gently caressed his bullet wound, accompanied by whispers of how handsome he was. An endless string of "I love you" and "I'm so proud of you" was all Adam could hear, not the sound of cold, damp dripping, the rattling of chains, or even his own thoughts. Unbelievably, he felt perfectly calm.
Once the bath was over, Adam got changed into a pair of pyjamas that y/n had bought specifically for when he stayed over. Snuggled up in bed together, he felt a sense of hope for the first time in a while. He was getting better, life was starting to be worth living.
A/n hello! Sorry this took so long to get out, I've had the flu and i haven't been able to write much without falling asleep lol. Sorry this isn't my best work, but I'm sure it's at least enjoyable! Also, I need Adam related suggestions because I'm feeling a bit lost for new ideas lately, so please leave a request! It can be something you might want to see in the bus stop series, or perhaps just a standalone fic with Adam, or some headcanons etc - anything really! I love getting requests :^)
Hope everyone is having a good new year so far! :^)
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harrisonarchive · 10 months
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Recording “Don’t Bother Me” at Abbey Road Studios on September 12, 1963; photos by Norman Parkinson.
“The first song he wrote was ‘Don’t Bother Me,’ ‘and that pretty much summed up my state of mind at the time,’ he admits. ‘John and Paul were really getting into writing songs. I took a look at them and thought, “Well, I’ll get in on this game. I’m gonna try hat.” But having them as the other writers in the group, it was very difficult,’ he notes with considerable understatement. ‘So I tended to just write on my own for years and years, because I didn’t know how to communicate like that with somebody else. And it was very difficult to write songs that would be good enough for the albums.’ As a consequence, Harrison’s relatively small output with the Beatles — about 20 songs — are mostly gems. In any other ‘60s groups, a guy who wrote ‘If I needed Someone,’ Taxman,’ ‘You Like Me Too Much,’ ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps,’ ‘Here Comes the Sun,’ ‘Something,' 'Within You Without You’ would have been hailed as a pop savant; within the Beatles Harrison might as well have been playing Graham Greene’s The Third Man. And as the Lennon-McCartney copyright was more or less sacrosanct, Harrison’s contributions to their songs were never credited. ‘I had my one or two songs occasionally, but really I was more involved than that,’ he says. ‘I know now, writing with friends, that when you’re all sitting around and a song comes out, you have to think carefully about assigning how many percent each person gets. ‘Cause there’s nothing worse than being involved in a situation where you think, “Wasn’t I there?” ‘A lot of Lennon-McCartney songs had other people involved, whether it’s lyrics or structures or circumstances. A good example is “I Feel Fine.” I’ll tell you exactly how that came about: We were crossing Scotland in the back of an Austin Princess, singing “Matchbox” in three-part harmony. And it turned into “I Feel Fine.” The guitar part was from Bobby Parker’s “Watch Your Step,” just a bastardized version. I was there for the whole of its creation — but it’s still a Lennon-McCartney.’ ‘Tell me about it!’ Paul McCartney smiles when told of George’s comment. ‘I wrote “Yesterday” singlehanded and not only do I share it — now with Yoko — but the Lennon names comes before mine.’ Paul concedes the point about ‘I Feel Fine’ but suggests that ‘if you were together picky about all that stuff there’s a million woes and a million reasons to sing the blues. In actual fact we just decided to split it down the middle. Me and John were the writers, unless George came up with something. Anybody who threw half a line in, it just really didn’t count.’” - Musician, March 1990 (x)
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letterlifter · 1 year
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i forgot to mention a few things regarding graham's creation, so i will just list them here along with a few other extra fun facts
how its made: pacesetter (cont)
i struggled designing him early on. but when i design cogs, i sometimes start with very rough, incomplete brainstorming sketches that need further refinement. about 3 years ago now, i sketched ideas for a design intended for a different project that we didn't end up using, and that design looks... familiar... because i ended up going back and reusing this as a base when creating graham later on:
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like i edited onto the initial post, graham was originally much less robotic looking and didnt have those steel face elements. I re-added them because i was told he looked too human
i recently made an HD version of graham's model with greater facial control for personal use. just for fun
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it's also where this gif comes from:
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parkerslatte · 1 year
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Songbird || NINETEEN
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Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2.1k
Part Summary: The band arrive in Pittsburgh and enjoy a sense of calm.
previous chapter / next chapter
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Taglist
•••
TRACK NINETEEN;
NOBODY LOVES A GLOOMY FACE
Y/N L/N: When Teddy had his heart attack, I didn’t know what to do, he was the one who believed in my music. I was glad I had the people I did surrounding me.
The clinical feel of the hospital waiting room made Y/N feel unseay. The band and Rod sat in silence, no one said a word. Y/N’s leg bounced up and down, a habit she picked up when she was anxious. Reaching with his hand, Eddie placed his hand gently on her knee, and the bouncing ceased. Y/N looked over to Eddie as he took hold of her hand in his, gently rubbing the back of her hand. 
As the doctor walked into the waiting room, everyone was immediately up on their feet. Y/N stepped forward, standing just behind Daisy.
“There was a blockage in the bloodflow to his heart.” The doctor says.
“What does that mean?” Billy questioned.
“It means we might not know the extent of the damage for a while, but he’s stable.” 
“Okay,” Daisy says letting out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”
Y/N nodded and stepped back into Eddie as he wrapped an arm around her. She let out a sigh of relief. Y/N sat back down in the seat and placed her head in her hands letting out a long sigh. Eddie placed his hand on her back, rubbing up and down gently. 
GRAHAM DUNNE: I remember after that a sense of calm. 
KAREN SIRKO: The usual band stuff, nothing really out of the ordinary. 
EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Other than Warren dating a movie star.
WARREN ROJAS: I was dating a movie star!
Y/N L/N: I was jealous of Warren, I can’t lie.
DAISY JONES: And Billy and I were…well we were never just one thing. But for the first time I think I could imagine a version of us that might last.
Y/N finished her eyeliner in the mirror and admired herself. For the first time in along time she felt like herself. Everything was calm, the shows were going well and she was just enjoying the days performing with the band, knowing that she wouldn’t be doing it again after the tour. Standing to her feet, Y/N smoothed down her outfit. 
“Woah, where are you going?” Eddie says walking into the room, looking at Y/N’s attire.
“Karen and I are getting lunch,” Y/N says, fixing her hair and turning around. 
Stepping up to Eddie she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see you later, love you.”
“Love you too.” Eddie called back to her as she left the room. 
Y/N walked the short distance to the room Karen and Graham were staying in. Knocking on the door, Karen stepped out quickly. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she noticed the expression on Karen’s face.
“Are you okay?” She questioned, concern lacing her tone.
Karen looked at Y/N and nodded and tried her best to give her a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. Y/N gently took Karen’s hand and walked her down the hallway to her and Eddie’s room. As they entered Eddie looked up. 
“I thought you were going out for lunch?” He questioned.
“Plans changed,” Y/N says, “Now go and bother Warren or someone else.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed though he got up from the bed and slowly began to walk out of the room.
“What’s going on?” He whispered to Y/N.
“Doesn’t matter,” Y/N says, “Now go, we’re having a girls day.”
As soon as Eddie stepped out of the room, Y/N closed the door and walked over to Karen who perched herself on the end of the bed. Sitting down next to her Y/N took hold of her hand once again. Karen looked at Y/N and it wasn’t a look Y/N was used to seeing on Karen. But that one look communicated everything Y/N needed to know
Y/N pulled Karen into a hug, “It’s okay.”
Karen held onto Y/N and the two sat in silence for a while. 
“Does Graham know?” Y/N asked.
Karen pulled away nodding, “He really wants to be a father, Y/N.”
“But what do you want?” Y/N says.
Karen only looked at Y/N and it was enough of an answer for her, “Karen, whatever you decide I will support you, but make sure you make the decision for yourself no one else.”
Nodding, Karen nodded before Y/N stood up and offered her hand to Karen, “Now how about we go for that lunch and have the day to ourselves? Get your mind off it for a little.”
Karen smiled for the first time since she left her and Graham’s room. Taking Y/N’s hand the two left the room. Karen feeling a little better in Y/N’s company. 
GRAHAM DUNNE: The next day we went home.
KAREN SIRKO: Fucking Pittsburgh.
Felicty sat with Lisa on the plane to Pittsburgh. She stared out of the window as they were landing, a mix of emotions swirling through her. They had a few days free to do whatever they wanted before the show and in that time Y/N knew that Eddie would introduce her to his family and that was something she had never done before. 
“You okay?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Y/N says. 
Lisa cocked her head, “You could never be an actress.”
Y/N chuckled, “That bad?”
Lisa shrugged, “With practice you can be better.”
Y/N sighed, “I’m just nervous to meet Eddie’s family.”
“They’ll love you,” Lisa says, “I’m nervous to meet Warren’s family.”
“You’re nervous?” Y/N says. 
Lisa rolls her eyes playfully, “Yes I am, but you don’t need to worry, Y/N. Eddie’s family will love you.”
“And Warren’s family will love you.”
The plane came to a stop and the doors began to open. From across the plane, Y/N made eye contact with Eddie and he had a wide smile on his face. It caused Y/N to smile, his smile always had that affect on her. Standing up from her seat, she walked the short distance to Eddie.
“You excited?” Y/N asked.
The smile on Eddie’s face gave himself away instantly, “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”
Y/N let out a puff of air, “I’m excited to meet them as well.”
Eddie held her hand tight, “They’ll love you.”
As the two exit the plane and were finally back on land, Eddie let go of Y/N’s hand and rushed over to his family, “Grandma!” He exclaimed, pulling the woman into a hug followed by hugging his mother. 
Smiling at the interaction, Y/N stood a little away letting Eddie greet his family. As Eddie pulled away to hug his mother fully, Eddie’s grandmother spotted Y/N standing behind.
“And you must be Y/N.” Eddie’s grandmother says, “It’s great to finally meet you.”
Eddie’s grandmother pulls Y/N into a hug that she wasn’t expecting, “It’s great to meet you too.”
Eddie smiled at the interaction.
“My grandson won’t stop fawning about you every phonecall.” His grandmother says pulling away and clutching her hands. 
“That’s enough of that Grandma,” Eddie says, embarrassed. 
A smile spread across Y/N’s face as Eddie’s mother pulled her into a hug. Between both of the women, they made Y/N feel extremely welcomed. 
Wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist, Eddie pressed a soft kiss to her hairline, “I told you they’d love you.”
***
“It’s so good to see you again!” Camila says as she wraps Y/N in a hug.
“I missed you a lot.” Y/N says as the two embrace in the middle of Mrs Dunne’s garden, “And I missed Julia, she’s gotten so big!”
Camila smiles fondly at the mention of her daughter, “I know, she’s growing up too quickly.”
“How has she been, with Billy touring?” Y/N asks.
Camila sighs, “She misses him a lot but she’s managing with her phone calls.”
“You should meet us in another city, I’m sure everyone will appreciate it,” Y/N says, “But mostly me.”
Camila smiles, “I’m coming to Chicago but I don’t have any plans after that.”
“Just join us on the rest of the tour, we’ll give you a triangle or something.” Y/N jokes.
Camila laughs but it soon fades away, “How are you holding up? You know still being in the band?”
Y/N had confided in Camila about her decision to leave the band weeks ago, just after she told Eddie. She needed someone else without a bias to tell her that she was making the right decision. 
“I’m enjoying it, I am,” Y/N says, “I feel like I should be grateful, I mean, I’m in the biggest fucking band in the world.”
“But it isn’t what you want.” Camila finished.
Y/N shook her head, “I’ve been writing again recently whenever I’ve had time and I forgot how much I enjoyed it, sure it also drives me crazy and takes me forever to finish one song, but it’s what I should have been doing all along, working on my own music.”
“Y/N, you can leave earlier if you want to, if you feel like it’s right.” Camila says.
Y/N shook her head, “I can’t let anyone down.”
“They’re your friends, they will understand.”
“The tour ends in a few months,” Y/N says, “I can hold out that long.”
Camila sighs, “If it’s what you want.” 
“And this is my beautiful girlfriend.” Eddie says, cutting in the conversation. 
Y/N turns around and looks at Eddie, “What’s happening?” She whispers.
“This girl appeared from nowhere and I don’t know how to get rid of her.” Eddie says, standing behind Y/N a little.
“Hi,” Y/N says, turning to the girl, “I’m Y/N, Eddie’s girlfriend.”
The girl looks surprised before she quickly bids goodbye and leaves and Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank god, she’s gone.”
Y/N and Camila laugh at hs reaction before Camila turns to Y/N and places her hand on her arm, “I’m gonna talk to the people over there but think about what I said, okay?”
Y/N offers her a smile, “I’ll think about it.”
Camila squeezes her arm before leaving her and Eddie alone. 
Eddie looked between Camila’s retreating figure and Y/N’s face, he wanted to question it but it was best not too. Instead he offered her his drink which she took gratefully, taking a few long sips.
“I didn’t mean for you to drink all of it.” Eddie says as she hands back the bottle with barely a sip left.
“Oh hush,” Y/N says, placing a short kiss to his lips, “You can get a new one.”
Eddie smiled at Y/N as she took his hand in hers and dragged her to the drinks table. 
***
That evening Y/N sat on the couch in Eddie’s mother’s house. The television was on which was the only source of light. Y/N sat with her back to Eddie’s chest ad his arm wrapped around her. Everything felt calm. For the first time in years, Y/N felt normal, she didn’t feel like a rockstar. She didn’t feel like she was in the biggest band in the world. 
Y/N tilts her head up to look at Eddie. He was focussed on the television. Smiling Y/N admired Eddie. 
Eddie, feeling someone looking at him, looks down at Y/N, “What you looking at?”
“You.” Y/N answers. 
Eddie smiled before he cups her cheek and presses his lips to hers. Like Y/N, Eddie felt calm. Being back in his home and being with his family was a main cause of that but another one was his relationship with Y/N. Whenever he was with her everything else didn’t matter. 
Eddie suddenly pulled away and moved off the couch, turning off the television.
“What are you doing?” Y/N questioned, her voice quiet to not wake Eddie’s mother.
Eddie didn’t reply, he only bent down and connected their lips again, reaching to pick Y/N up from the couch. She let out a quiet laugh as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“We’re in your mothers house.” Y/N says.
“Then you’ll have to be quiet.” He mumbled against her lips.
Y/N smiled as Eddie carried her to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 
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117 notes · View notes
guardian-of-fandoms · 4 months
Text
"This is him?"
"Yup..."
Everyone crowded around the bed, staring at the stranger in a mix of confusion, astonishment, and dread.
Doc stared at the cybernetic in fascination, then studied the charts.
"Incredible... While damaged, this technology is astonishing! Powered by the body's natural bio-electricity, INGENIOUS!!!"
Dani nodded, glancing back at the charts.
"Doctor Mcswain said his body produces an unnatural amount of it, though. From what he did to the traffic light, we know he can absorb power, would that explain it?"
"Excellent deduction!"
Doc nodded, carefully scanning the metal and wires.
"If my guesses here are correct, our visitor has some truly unique abilities! It appears that the Cybernetic's ability to absorb power converts it to bio-electricity, which our visitor requires high amounts of. Not only does he require high amounts of power to power the cybernetic, but it appears that his body has simply.... altered itself to accept this electricity as a natural function. This process would've taken years.... astounding..."
"And i noticed something else.... Shields, shooting electricity, Isn't that familiar? It's just like Cody- Our Cody's- Repulsor Badge... before it blew up, anyway..."
Doc nodded again, musing at Dani's observation.
"Interesting... By the laws of the Multiverse, anything is possible! Perhaps in this other reality, the technology was perfected, and never encountered the shortcomings it did here."
Kade scoffed, leaning against the door.
"Yeah, yeah, he's a cool science experiment. Look, Can we find out who he is or not?"
"Ah, right!"
Doc held out his tablet, and a small scanner.
"I'll simply preform a Biometric scan! If he really is a version of Cody, then in theory, he should match identically on a genetic scale."
Kade rolled his eyes, watching as Dani examined the stranger's gear.
"Let's just get this over with... Once Doc does his science thing, we'll prove once and for all that this guy isn't Cody!"
Dani examined the back panel of his armor plate, frowning as she stared at the engraving.
Like she'd spotted earlier, it was the insignia for the rescue bots, but something was off.
Going diagonally across the mark was a large crack, but not a real crack. It was clearly part of the design, but she couldn't understand why....
".... Whoever this guy is... it seems like he went through a lot..."
Charlie stared at the scars, at the damaged cybernetic, the signs of struggle and pain.
"... What happened to you..."
A small chime came from Doc's scanner, and he stared at the tablet.
".... I'll be..."
Wordlessly, he handed it to Charlie, who let out a long, slow hiss.
".... My god..."
It was a match.
Dani and Graham instantly leaned in for a peek, a similar shock washing over them.
"So... That's it, then? He really is a version of Cody?"
"It... It's a genetic match.... If the Biometric is accepting him, then... that means-"
"Absolutely nothing."
Kade threw his hands out, groaning as he pinched his brow.
"No offense, Doc, but your Tech's bugged out how many times now?! No, no, it's...... it's a fluke or something!! I've said it before, THIS. ISN'T. CODY."
"WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?!?!"
Dani groaned, pushing past Graham to jab a finger at Kade's chest.
"Even if he's not Cody, he's clearly in trouble and needs our help!!! Why are you being so hard on him?!"
"Needs our help?! Are you all forgetting that he attacked us?! No matter why he's here, we can't just trust him!"
"We should at least hear him out."
Charlie tried to calm things down, coming between both his kids.
"Listen. Doc, why don't you scan him a few more times, just to be sure? In the mean time, we can at least make sure he recovers from his injuries. Once he wakes up, we'll let him tell his side of the story, and decide where to go from there."
Dani and Kade couldn't meet the other's eyes, but seemed satisfied for now.
Doc leaned over with the scanner, musing to himself as he eyed the cybernetic.
"Incredible... such advanced designs... as well as ironing out the flaws in the repulsor badge...."
He leaned in for a closer look, and gently ran a hand over the shoulder, trying to take in the connective wires and delicate parts.
"Perhaps once he wakes up, I can asess the damage, and attempt base repairs..."
Doc gently grasped the damaged plating, as Kade shook his head.
"Sure, give the random guy his electricity powers back...."
Dani shot him a dirty look, and Charlie could only sigh.
"Look. We don't know what's going on here, but we're going to find out. we just need to-"
"AH!"
Doc suddenly yelped, and everyone glanced over, the stranger's left arm tightly gripping Doc's wrist.
Everyone tensed, as the stranger quickly sat upright, his eyes wide as he gasped for breath, whipping his head around the room.
"WHERE AM I?!"
Charlie ran up to the Bed, throwing his arm in front of Doc.
"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay. We're not going to hurt you, we took you to the hospital. You're safe here."
He gasped, but his breath slowly evened out, and he let go of Doc, the man wincing as he rubbed his wrist.
"Quite the grip..."
"Sorry... You scared me, Doc."
"You... know me?"
The stranger stretched out, examining the damage to his arm.
"Well, yeah, You look just like the Doc Greene from my world. You even have the same tie."
"Fascinating!"
Charlie couldn't help but chuckle over how quickly Doc bounced back from the scare, but leaned closer to the bed.
"Look... We need to ask you a few questions..."
The stranger sighed, rubbing his neck.
"I figured... But first, what happened to Morocco?"
"He escaped, but-"
"YOU DIDN'T TRACK HIM?!"
He shot up, sliding his legs over the side of the bed.
He could be anywhere by now!! Do you have any idea what he's capable of?!"
He attempted to stand, but instantly felt weak, his knees nearly buckling as Charlie rushed to steady him.
"We'll find him, I promise. But you're in bad shape, you need our help."
Charlie wasn't prepared for the darkness in his eyes.
"None of you are supposed to be involved in this. I came here for ONE JOB, and i FAILED. I have to find that... Monster... before it's too late..."
"Well, we're involved now, deal with it."
Kade glared, slowly coming closer to the bed, his face set in a deep scowl.
"Don't think for one minute that i trust you. I know sketchy when I see it, and I'm not letting you out of my sight. I want answers, so start talking."
The stranger was quiet, then slowly let out a dark, sarcastic chuckle, pulling away from charlie as he leaned on the bed's railing.
"Ever stubborn, Kade... You're just like mine used to be..."
"Used to be?"
Kade felt uneasy at that, as the stranger sighed, before looking around at everyone in the room.
"My name is Cody Burns. I came here from another Dimension, a reality parallel to this one. If i'm right, i'm guessing I ran into my dimensional counterpart already."
Kade's glare didn't drop, his eyes sharp.
"You told him and Frankie your name was Cole."
"It's best if they don't get involved. I feel bad for lying to them, but it's for their own safety."
"That why you kicked our butts earlier? For our own safety?"
"I was trying to keep you all out of this, I was just trying to keep you out of the way."
"If you know so much about us, then why don't you know that it's our job to get involved with this crap?"
The visitor met his eyes, a pointed, cold, sense of emptiness in them.
"Don't do that... Don't pretend you know me...."
Cautiously, Charlie gripped his shoulder, feeling a pang in his heart.
"... How old are you?"
The visitor looked surprised, hesitating, but sighed.
"... Nineteen..."
"Nineteen..."
Charlie studied him carefully.
Was this was Cody- his cody- would look like?
He was slim, but near Kade's height.
But despite the scarring, the damaged cybernetic, what haunted him most, was the emptiness in his eyes.
His Son's eyes, so full of life, so vibrant, so kind, were now dull, pained, haunted by a darkness Charlie couldn't understand.
... What happened to him? What happened in his world to cause such pain?
"... Son-"
His face changed instantly, and he quickly pulled out of Charlie's grasp, his jaw clenching as he hissed out a slow breath, his eyes meeting the floor.
"Don't... I'm....I'm not yours, I'm not your son."
Charlie pulled away, another pang shooting through his heart as his eyes widened.
"I... I'm sorry..."
The air in the room grew tense, a heavy weight hanging overhead.
All except Kade, who only narrowed his eyes.
"... Look, Uh... Kade has a point."
Graham nervously trailed his eyes to the floor, feeling everyone turn to look at him.
"I'm sorry, but, you can't take on your Morocco alone. You're hurt, and most of your equipment needs repaired, if not completely rebuilt. As the Rescue Team, it's our job to take care of emergencies, and i'm pretty sure this counts."
Dani nodded, adding,
"Yeah, Alternate Dimension or no, you're still a Cody, right? That means you're family, and family takes care of each other. You're going to need us."
"... You have no idea how dangerous the Morocco of my world is!"
Dani practically snorted.
"He's Doctor Morocco, we have a guess. And, maybe you should tell us, then!"
"Is he... Human?"
Graham reflected on what he's been in the woods, the monster of twisted metal.
The visitor only sighed.
"... I don't even know anymore. Doctor Morocco.... He had this obsession with... Immortality."
Dani only groaned.
"Is there a version of him that doesn't?"
"He was obsessed with living forever, keeping his mind perfect for eternity. Once he discovered Cybertronians... He got... Ideas."
He leaned away from the bed, now able to support himself, but unsteadily.
"After he learned about them, he was convinced his human body was holding him back. So... he decided to upgrade. He fused his immortality technology into a robotic body, and implanted his brain inside."
Jaws dropped, and even Kade looked surprised.
"... Woah..."
"All he is now is a ghost of what was. But it doesn't matter what form he takes. He's dangerous. And he needs to PAY for what he's done..."
The pain in his eyes sent a flurry of dark possibilities through the minds of the team.
He slowly rubbed his right shoulder, His eyes closing as he grasped the metal.
".... I promised i'd hunt him down to the ends of the earth. Instead, i followed him across the fabric of reality. I won't stop now. I won't stop until I tear him to pieces with my bare hands."
Silence rang out across the room, heavy and swallowing.
Everyone exchanged glances with one another, shock and horror filling them.
Despite himself, a dark, ominous feeling sank deep into Kade's gut.
The visitor took an unsteady step forward, his face dark.
"Got any smart comments about that, hothead?"
Kade was quiet for a moment, then shook his head.
"Just wondering what happened to you."
The visitor stared at him, then slowly, barked out a slow, bitter laugh.
"Sometimes, I wonder that too..."
Charlie awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to redirect attention.
"Anyways... What do you say? Will you accept our help?"
Charlie gazed at him softly, trying to sound convincing.
"I Promise. We'll do anything we can to help you catch him."
The visitor stared at him, then sighed.
"... Do i have a choice?"
He moved to the side, spotting his equipment.
"Seeing as I don't have a choice, fine. But let me make one thing clear. Morocco. Is. Mine."
Charlie nodded sollemley, and the visitor sighed.
".... So, what now?"
"First, we need to talk to Doctor Mcswain about discharging you."
"Wait!"
Dani suddenly remembered something, explaining,
"Doctor McSwain has him on file as a John Doe, she's going to need a name."
The visitor sighed, pulling his jacket on over his bandages, surpised that somebody had apparently washed the blood out.
"Look, to avoid any confusion with my counterpart, why don't you all just call me... Cole?"
Charlie nodded, handing over his chest plate.
"If that's comfortable for you, we can call you Cole."
"Thank you..."
He buckled his chest plate in place, but struggled, his cybernetic sparking as it made erratic movements.
"Here..."
Charlie held him get it in place, frowning at the massive dent in the front.
"Hmm... After we get your discharge in order, Doc, can you fix him up at the lab?"
"Certainly!"
"No, No, I don't have time!"
Cole sighed as he pulled away from Charlie, clutching his Cybernetic as he took a step back.
"I need to find Morocco as soon as possible!"
"And we'll find him. Alright... How bout this? Doc, Graham, you and Boulder take Co- Cole... to the lab, and get him fixed up, and find a way to take out this Alternate Morocco. Dani, Kade, we'll do patrols of the island, and see if we can find any trace of him."
Cole reluctantly nodded.
"Alright... I'll go along with this, for now. But the second you find anything, i'm handling it from there."
Kade scoffed.
"Oh, I bet you will, "Cole"."
"And here we go, classic Kade!"
"Oh, I bet you know all about me, huh?"
Cole took a heavy step forward, jabbing a finger at kade.
"Yeah, I do! I know you're an arrogant hothead, and you HATE accepting that MAYBE, SOMEBODY KNOWS MORE THAN YOU!"
"You know what I know right now?"
Despite the near match in height, Kade was just barely taller, and kept his tone even as he stared into "Cole's" eyes.
"I know a thing or two about putting on a phony Tough Guy act. And I know that if you storm out there like this, you're gonna get yourself killed."
"You don't get to lecture me.... You have NO RIGHT to lecture me."
"And why not?"
"Because I've survived this long without you!"
He cut himself off, his eyes going wide, a thin gasp escaping him.
Kade's eyes went wide, before he sighed.
".... We done here?"
The visitor clutched his arm, pain etched across his face as he turned his back.
".... We're done..."
The implications of his statement rang cold, and charlie rubbed his neck.
"... Kade... Take a walk."
Kade shrugged, then motioned to Dani and Graham.
"A word?"
They followed him out, and as the door closed behind them, dug a hand through his pocket.
"... So... I think that's telling."
"You were too hard on him."
Dani gave Kade a pointed glare, and he only sighed.
"We needed answers, didn't we?"
"I wouldn't exactly call those answers a victory."
Kade stopped, and held out his find from the forest.
"... He dropped this, earlier."
"Is that... a comn?"
Kade clicked it open, revealing the photo inside.
"He hollowed it out, like a locket or something."
"Woah..."
Dani gingerly took it from Kade's hands, recognizing the photo instantly.
"Isn't that-"
"Yeah."
Graham leaned over Dani's shoulder, frowning as he studied the device.
"I don't get it... why a Comn?"
"Think about it."
Kade leaned against a wall, his eyes trained on the comn.
"We use the comns to comunicate, to talk to each other. If this one wasn't getting it's intended use-"
Dani traced the photo, a dark realization clicking inside her.
".... Then there's nobody to talk to..."
Kade nodded solemly, and Graham clicked the comn closed.
"... I guess that's it, then."
"Wasn't that hard to figure out."
Kade took the comn back, his eyes softening as he glanced back at the door.
"I'm not saying i'm totally on board here, but... IF that really is Cody... Then there's no way any version of us would just send him on a crazy mission like this alone. At least...."
Dani finished the thought, slumping against the wall.
"... Not willingly..."
21 notes · View notes
fxlling13 · 9 months
Text
Just before I get into the story I would like to explain a few things. Originally, I wrote this story on wattpad. It did quite well on there and, seeing as it is unfinished, I thought I would; rewrite, improve and upload it here chapter by chapter. In this version, im going to be uploading a prologue first in the 3rd person eith the rest of the chapter's being in your (the readers) pov. So, I hope you enjoy my story.
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For You
13th doctor x female reader
Synopsis: The doctor finds you on her first outing in her new body. But who are you? And how will you impact each others lives.
Prologue:
Sunlight shone down harshly on the desert like planet below. Looking up to the sky, the doctor sighed and looked at her new gang. Only two-three days into a new regeneration and she had already found herself friends. Hopefully this incarnation would be more open than the last (she hoped anyway).
"Those suns are starting to set. They're moving way faster than I realised. "She told the others absently, not really paying attention to detail until Graham piped up.
"Well, back in the tent, that bloke Ilin said do not travel by night." Realising he was right, she nodded to herself. Nothing could ever be simple.
"We need to move, fast." The doctor stated only for the group to turn around and come face to face with a group of armed, inhuman creatures.
"Whoa! They weren't there when we came in." Graham stumbled back slightly in shock .
"Where did they come from?" Ryan shouted out to no one in particular. Pulling her sonic out the blonde, scanned over them rapidly.
"I don't know. "Her voice was calm but, in actuality, the doctor was panicking and she hated that. Yasmin groaned angrily and looked at her for a way out of this. After all, the humans were only there due to a fault in the doctors original method.
"Oh, my God, Doctor!"
"So much for no life forms on this planet." Looking at them The eldest began to explain , or rather try to.
"They're not alive. They're robot guards. Why would you need robot guards on a deserted planet? Good news is, they're not fully active. So, what we all need to do is very slowly, totally unthreateningly, back out of here."
From inside they suddenly heard the sound of two guns going off within seconds of each other. There was no guessing it was Epzo's doing. Being so aloof, he had probably got himself shot in the progress. However, the robots gears began to turn and they came to life in less than a second.
"Argh! They've been activated! Run!" The doctor yelled and began to rush past the armed robots.
"Move! Move, everyone! Come on!"
Graham encouraged everyone as the others followed. But the robots were too smart.
"Ah! Ah! Swerve! Don't run straight. They're predicting our path! In here!" The doctors voice echoed in the small space as she tumbled into the room that looked like a shooting range. After making sure everyone was in and the guards had lost them, the doctor let out a breath. Waving her hand, she leant against the wall.
"Sit, catch your breath." Not needing to be told twice, Ryan flopped down with a groan.
"You are so dramatic." Yaz scoffed, joining him in a calmer manner. Graham laughed at the younger man's face, he looked deeply offended.
"I am not dramatic."
"You so are." The doctor watched them bicker affectionately and smiled. She loved humans and all their weird little quirks. Gazing ahead, she took in the state of the room. It was big, empty and extremely dusty. Some of the targets had dents and holes from bullets and blasts. At some point, there was working lights on the ceiling. Now, however, there was big gaps or smashed glass in place of them. Also, it was so quiet. So still. In fact, the place looked like it had been barren for many years. Who knows how long. From the corner of her eye, the doctor saw something. Only slight movement, but still, something. Maybe it was sone sand falling. No, it couldn't be. There was a noise, subtle but defensive there.
"Shush.." She muttered, swearing that she'd heard a small cry. Which, should have neen impossible. Why would anyone be there? When the group didn't go quiet as the doctor needed, she huffed and turned to them.
"I said shut up!" And they stopped. Hearing another whimper she put a finger to her lips, signalling for them to be silent as she approached the noise. Behind a pillar, in the corner of the room, sat a huddled figure. Their face buried into their knees. 
"Hey..."The Doctor tried to sound gentle as she sat on her knees in front of the person. They whimpered and tried to get even further away. She frowned, sensing the fear this person was radiating. It took a minute, but she eventually spoke, trying hard not to spook them.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Can you look at me? Maybe we could help you?" After a few seconds the person finally lifted their face. The Doctors eyes softened as she saw all the deep wounds. Some looking old, some fresh. It was a girl. A young girl. Her face was cut up badly in some places. Neck covered in dark bruises, she was trembling and trying to hide as much of herself as possible.
"Oh I am so sorry sweetheart. Can you tell me your name?" She looked at them clearly scared. Her eyes almost shook in fear. The doctor could feel her hearts constricting. Or, maybe, that was the pent up regeneration energy. Sure, she had fainted but it was barely any time to recharge.
"Its (y/n)." A cut by her mouth opened up and began to bleed as she spoke.
"Gosh, you're really beaten up. We can help. I promise you." The doctor smiled warmly, gently wiping the blood away. The two locked eyes, the doctor instantly feeling a sense of knowing.
"Doc I don't mean to alarm you but they're nearly here." Graham spoke gently . Probably trying not to scare (y/n).
"Ok ok. Quick introduction then. This is graham, Yaz and Ryan. Oh and I'm the doctor." She nodded startled with how quick they were going.
"Can you walk?" Yaz asked her, offering a smile as well. (Y/n) thought for a moment before attempting to move. Very slowly, she got to her feet. Just as she took a step, her knees gave out. The doctor was quick to react, catching her instantly.
"Is it okay if I pick you up?" Shyly, the girl nod, allowing the doctor to lift her gently.
(Y/n)'s arms wrapped around the tallers neck, the doctors arms holding her up with ease.
"Want one of us to help doc?" Graham asked as they headed towards the exit. Glaring slightly, the timelord shook her head.
"No. She's fine with me." Taking the hint. He simpered and nod. All the while, (y/n) let her head rest upon the doctors chest, listening to her heartbeat. Wait, no. Heartbeats.
52 notes · View notes
t3acupz · 23 days
Text
🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻
3. “Squeeze my hand”
Will was becoming desperate to remember what Hannibal had done to him when he was experiencing his encephalitis induced loss of time. He knew that somewhere in the wellspring of his mind were all the buried memories that would exonerate him but he just had to dig deeper. Chilton was equally just as frustrated from getting nowhere with Graham. The curt response, and uncouth eye rolls were starting to wear on him. Sensing that the FBI profiler was reaching his limit, the former surgeon suggested a rather unorthodox approach to jog Will’s memory.
“Electroconvulsive therapy,” Chilton announced, puffing up his chest to add emphasis to his brilliant idea.
Will looked up from behind the bars of the cramped iron cage that made him feel like one of his dogs when they were misbehaving. He suppressed a growl that was trying to go up his throat. Seeing Chilton looking so smug while proposing something that would cause Will to experience even more pain than he was already in was enough to make him want to wring his neck.
“Do you really believe that would work?” The question escaped Will’s mouth before he could really consider the consequences of opening Chilton’s version of a Pandora’s box.
The green eyes of the orderly gleamed as he stopped playing with his keychain, and straightened up from leaning against the wall. Matthew was assigned to be one of Will’s personal orderlies. The high-profile serial killer, The Chesapeake Ripper, was right in front of him yet — he wasn’t.
Matthew had read the file on Will Graham every night before switching shifts with the next group of BSCHI orderlies. It was the only time he could read it in peace without someone looking over his shoulder. Graham didn’t fit the description of the cold, heartless cannibal that sadistically murdered his victims. There was a darkness in Will, Matthew saw that clearly, but he wasn’t a monster.
“Brown!” Chilton hollered at the young man across the room. “Prep the ECT equipment. We don’t want to waste the precious daylight hours, Mr. Graham is a very impatient man.”
Will glanced at Matthew, and for the first time since becoming an inmate, made eye contact with him. The blue-gray eyes saw right through Matthew, sending shivers down the younger man’s spine. Matthew nodded at Chilton, and left the room.
After half an hour, Brown returned. “Finally, what took you so long, go cuff Will and bring him, I will meet you in the room.” And with that, Chilton limped away, creating an echo with his cane that seemed to reverberate through the entire building.
“Will it hurt?” Will asked Matthew as he stood with his back to the orderly, waiting for his hands to be bound.
“I’ll give you a muscle relaxer but I won’t lie to you, it hurts like a bitch.”
Will let out a sarcastic laugh, and walked out of the cage. Matthew placed a hand on Will’s arm, and guided him through the winding corridors to the only source of light at the very end of a dark hallway. Once inside, Will saw Chilton standing there, and impatiently tapping the vintage-looking machine.
Matthew removed the handcuffs, and helped Will onto the solid looking bed. The faded leather was worn down at the edges, and as Will placed his head down he realized that it smelled just as bad as it looked.
“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s true that we haven’t used the Somatics machine in years.” Chilton spoke, careful not to scare Will into changing his mind. “But you’re a special case, and you shall receive the best treatment this fine establishment can provide.”
Matthew rolled his eyes, and looked down at Will. “I’ll now give you two injections, one is a muscle relaxer, and the other will help with anxiety.”
”Just the muscle relaxer,” Will replied, wincing as the first needle pierced the skin, and the muscle relaxer was injected into his cephalon vein. “I need to be able to feel any emotion that could be associated with a memory.”
“Wise choice,” Chilton said while starting the ECT machine. “Let’s continue.” He nodded at Matthew to begin placing the electrodes to Will’s temples.
After Will was strapped down, and all the necessary equipment was attached to his body, he suddenly found himself hyperventilating.
“Mr. Graham, we are moments away from starting your treatment, please get a hold of yourself.” Chilton sighed, finger edging towards the red button.
Matthew leaned close to Will’s face, smelling the faint hint of fevered sweetness coming from the anxious man. “Squeeze my hand.” He whispered softly, placing his hand near Will’s. Will grabbed it, and Matthew felt the jittering, clammy hand grip much harder than he had expected. Matthew bit his lip to ease his own pain, and let Will continue to hold his fingers in a vice grip.
“I will do the countdown,” Licking his lips, Chilton began, “3… 2… 1–”
120 volts passed through Will’s brain, lighting up his neurons, and causing a generalized seizure. Matthew felt Will’s hand loosen as he lost control of his senses. His eyes rolled back, showing only the whites. Chilton looked pleased with himself.
Will was at his home, sitting down even though he doesn’t remember how he got in that position. Hannibal was rubbing his face with a latex glove. “Wh—”
“Now, now.” Hannibal shushed Will as he opened his mouth wider, and guided a clear plastic tube down his throat.
Will jerked from the pain but couldn’t fight back. He could see Hannibal smirking down at him, running his hand through the brown curls that stuck to Will’s sweat-soaked face. “Just a little more, that’s it.” Hannibal tutted at him.
Five seconds passed in the blink of an eye, and Chilton turned off the machine. Will tried to sit up but was held down by the straps that ran down the length of the bed.
“That bastard!” Will hissed as Matthew began removing the electrodes from his temples.
“Did you remember something, Will?” Chilton asked eagerly.
Will shook his head, refusing to look at Chilton’s self-satisfied expression.
“That’s alright, we will keep doing this every other day until you do.” And with that, Chilton exited the room, leaving Matthew to clean up the mess.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Matthew finally broke the silence in the room. “He has listening devices all over the place so don’t start talking to yourself out loud.”
Will gave the orderly a curious look then smiled. “How do you know he has listening devices?”
“Because he asked me to rig it for him,” Matthew smiled back.
“Thank you.” Will replied, letting Matthew place the handcuffs on him again.
“If you need anything, just say the word.” Matthew’s hand was still numb from how forcefully Will squeezed it earlier. But he didn’t mind nor did he want the feeling to go away because it meant Will needed him, and Matthew was happy to be used by Will in any way the older man wanted.
11 notes · View notes
stxrshxpxd · 11 months
Text
those who have kissed before
pairing: 90s graham coxon x reader
word count: 796
warnings: none
prompt: reader is playing a game of truth or dare with the boys and graham and her relive some untold memories
* * *
“I said from the start this was a bad idea,” I reminded Graham as he grimaced at the question he had just been asked. Being one of Damon’s oldest friends, I had tagged along for the UK shows of their European tour. It was about to be 2 am and we were all sitting in a circle around a small table in the back of the tour bus, lazily playing some sort of card version of ‘truth or dare’.
“No, I’m trying to count,” Graham laughed, thinking hard about his body count. To my right Damon rolled his eyes, laughing, and slid down in his seat till the back of his head was lying against the low backrest.
“Right.. Depending on what counts and what doesn’t, somewhere between ten and thirteen,” Graham said, his cheeks shifting to a light red shade. Everyone around the table was grinning and I could swear we all felt like giddy teenagers. We were definitely a good few drinks in and all nearing delirium.
“Did you count Damon?” Dave asked with a jokingly serious tone and expression.
“Fuck off!” Damon chuckled and tossed a bottle cap at him and the rest of us laughed.
“Alright,” he muttered and sat up straight again, picking a card.
“Oh shit.. This one’s for all of us.”
He looked around and we were all quiet again now, expecting the worst.
“Those who have kissed before need to kiss again,” Damon said in a calm voice. My eyes somewhat discreetly shot up at Graham right away. I imagined we were both remembering at the end of a party last year when we had sat on our friends’ balcony and somehow ended up kissing for a solid minute, before someone had stumbled out to puke onto the street and the spark between us was killed. What’s weird is I don’t remember us being that drunk.
“Alright, sluts first,” I announced and nudged Damon in the side, earning a dramatically offended expression.
“Oh, have you not kissed every single person in this room?!” I argued and Alex, Dave and Graham held in giggles. Damon sighed and heaved himself over the table, placing quick and rushed pecks on all three boys’ lips and ended it with one on mine. We were all back to falling in and out of laughter and I took a sip of my beer.
“I haven’t seen you two kiss before,” Alex said but it sounded like a question and he was pointing at me and Damon.
“Oh, please, he was my new year's kiss like every year from when we were twelve to like.. nineteen.”
“Fair enough,” Alex laughed and shrugged and then he suddenly turned to his left to grab Graham’s face and pull him in for an unnecessarily wet kiss. Dave, Damon and I collapsed in a pile of yelps and laughter as Graham was let go and his cheeks grew even redder.
It seemed everyone had kissed who they were supposed to kiss and were coming down from our giggling highs for a moment. But my heart was beating hard and I was avoiding eye contact with Graham.
“I would quite like to cleanse my palette after that,” he said at last and I couldn’t help but return the obvious stare he was directing at me. Our eyes met and everyone got completely quiet for a second. Damon’s eyes frantically flickered between the two of us a few times.
“You’ve kissed?”
Neither one of us answered for a few seconds. Then I exhaled and nodded.
“Last year.”
Damon was shocked neither of us had told him. I didn’t know why I hadn’t. It was just that it didn’t really feel like it was a silly drunken sloppy thing between laughing friends. It was something else entirely, and neither of us had talked about it since. Hence why it felt incredibly strange to do it again now in front of the boys.
“Shit. Well, go on then.”
Graham and I shared eye contact again and he laughed softly and forced a shrug of his shoulder, and he began to stand and lean across the table. I couldn’t do anything other than to follow his lead, and forcefully suppress any emotions so as to not let him feel them. We kissed shortly and sweetly. It was definitely more than a peck but there was no tongue.
I found my brain had instantly blocked out all the sensory details of the kiss, and being sad about having done so, when I sat down again. I wished it had lasted longer and I felt I desperately missed his tongue from the party last year.
My ears tuned back into the scattered laughter all around the room and I was back to avoiding Graham’s glances again.
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char-lie-spirals · 4 months
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Assigning my screwdrivers to each of my Graham Folger fics
Keep in mind, most of them are tiny screwdrivers that are a part of a multi-tool, but! If it works as a screwdriver, it's a screwdriver! I will also be providing explanations, of course! But, since it's 5 screwdrivers + a bonus, this will be long, so! Under the cut it goes!
AUGHH Tumblr posted the wip instead of the finished post. Horrible. THIS is the final version
1) Impossible Tastes and Endless Hallways
My emotional support flathead! I've had it for ages, I've used it to fix countless things, and it also functions as a stim toy if you're stubborn enough about it! AND it genuinely used to make me feel safe :] I'm assigning it to the 1st ever Spiral Graham fic I wrote because I LOVE that AU and I've also had it for ages and I have like. 10+ AUs OF the AU in my head, but they all follow the events of the 1st fic, so! It's also usable for many things! And also I love it so much I want to bite it :]
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2) The World Isn't Ours (but we'll manage)
This one is a part of a multi-tool that I got surprisingly cheap, but it's very reliable! It doesn't wiggle, it's very sturdy, and I've taken it with me on countless trips and such when I need something small but good. It wasn't my first multi-tool, but it was much better than the previous ones, too! With like 10 more tools in it! So, I think it fits this fic because it's also not the 1st one in the AU, but in this one Graham overcomes some of the things he struggled with in the previous ones and overall grew as a person (/avatar (?)), too! AND he finally sees other places than Zemlya Sannikova in this fic, just like the screwdriver has seen many places :]
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3) The One You Could Never Forget (you did)
This is a flathead from a multi-tool! Which is unusual because I usually only see them with Philips endings? Regardless, this whole multi-tool was gifted to me and it is Incredibly good quality. I mean like, it's super sturdy and will survive many many years... but then again, I'm honestly a bit scared to use it just because of how good it is. I think that matches the fic - Graham is given back kind of like a gift, and everything that follows is a bit,, unusual, I'd say, but also I have so many plans for this fic, so many more chapters planned... I'm kinda scared to work on it?? Oops?? BUT that just makes it fit that way, too!
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4) (Un)familiar Faces
This one is also a part of a multi-tool, what a surprise! The multi-tool itself has my name on the left and a text in Polish on the right, which translates to "The king of the forest". But It Has My Name On It. Considering how the first chapter and a half of this fic deals with Graham and Sasha not remembering their names/who they are, and then try to remind other people of that as well, and how much comfort stems from just... knowing themselves? I feel like this one is very fitting :]
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5) If We Get Through One More Night
This one is a very small multi-tool that I was given by my grandpa :] The screwdriver part is very unstable, it wiggles around, but it still works and in spite of everything, it prevails! And this fic was much shorter compared to my other ones, and written based on a prompt a friend gave me, which,, kind of makes it a gift as well? And I feel like the plot of the fic itself (Graham survives Just Barely, but finds himself in an environment in which he can be okay again) fits how the handle threatens to break but never does
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And now a bonus!
This isn't exactly a screwdriver, it's a bottle opener, BUT its end "can be used as a screwdriver in extreme situations" and the bumpy surface on top (xx side in the image) is nice to rub when I'm nervous. So, comforting AND has a skull!
So, this is a bonus "screwdriver" to any of my fics that feature DeathNote :]
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In a transformers-to-humans au:
The rescue bots didn't have time to flinch before the relic activated.
Heatwave came back to consciousness to Dani putting stitches in the neck of a screaming and wriggling nine year old, the painkillers clearly working a little too well on the struggling boy.
"Kid! Kid, stop, you are going to drown in your own blood if you don't stop moving. Dad, help me. Kade, check on the bots."
Kade offered Heatwave- a hand? And he took it, noting his now brown skin. Brown was the wrong word for it, but all he could think of to describe it was food names, and that wouldn't go over well with the audience of this fic. Anyway, Heatwave was now Hispanic with salt and pepper hair, and Blades is an aged up version of his canon holoform. Please don't murder the author over the character descriptions. He's the color of boiled chicken and can't describe a human being to save his life.
Chase was white with black hair and blue eyes, and Boulder was also white with grayish brown hair and a big smile. There, all the information you need, now let's move back to the boy vomiting up blood all over Dani.
Surprise, the boy had, in fact, started vomiting up blood that he had previously swallowed. He had also started to claw at Charlie, who was pinning him to Blades's stretcher so the gash in his neck could be sutured and stitched shut. On Charlie's orders, Graham removed a sedative from Dani's medical bag and handed it to her. She stepped back from the stretcher, measured out a low dose, and injected it into the boy's thigh.
After a few more seconds of thrashing, the boy relaxed, and Charlie stepped away from the stretcher and helped Kade with the transformed Rescue Bots. Miraculously, the vehicle modes were separated from the new humans, and the former Bots were all unharmed but confused.
Luckily, the town was cued into the alien thing, so this fic won't be a nightmare to write.
Blades, who were the last to wake up, rushed to Dani's side. "Dani, what can we do?"
"The laceration missed all major arteries but shredded the vocal chords. As much as I hate using chemical restraints, having dad help me was making him even more distressed, and his vitals were already not great. He's stable now, and you can keep an eye on him while I fly the helicopter back to the mainland." Dani had gotten the stretcher into the helicopter while she was talking, getting into the pilot's seat.
A very tired sounding Optimus redirected Dani to a military base near the Canadian border. There, she wasn't surprised to see Ratchet's alt mode and a grumpy human that looked exactly as you would expect a humanized Ratchet to look like.
An old white man with red glasses and graying ginger hair, with a five year old white boy that was dressed as if he had stepped away from a NASCAR pit crew, minus the dirt and stains, clinging to his lab coat. Ratchet had track marks in his elbows, a leftover from his brief experiments with Syth-en. Smokescreen was shaking, a very patient June crouched next to him, trying to convince him to let Ratchet go.
Ultra Magnus had none of it, the man pulling him away with a yank on his shoulder. His military general dress uniform was impeccably clean, though Miko wiped her sticky, powder sugar-coated hands on the tail of his jacket before handing Smokescreen a jelly glazed one. Apparently, they had stopped for Dunkin Donuts.
Ultra Magnus ran a hand through his short black hair, bemoaning Smokescreen's longer cut. They could have easily passed for father and son, and now that the author thinks about it, Chase looked a lot like Magnus too...
That's besides the point, Bumblebee is nine and was puking blood ten minutes ago.
Optimus picked the former bot now identified as Bumblebee up and carried him into Unit E's military hospital, careful to make sure that Bee's head was angled in a way that he wouldn't choke if more blood came up.
The doctors confirmed Dani's theory, and besides a neck brace and some pain medication, there was nothing they could do to repair the boy's vocal chords.
Bee woke up in a hastily thrown together bedroom, Optimus waking up at the sound of Bee's strained gurgle, pink tinged drool trailing down his neck. Optimus wiped it away and sat him up, where he threw up nothing but bile. June came in with some water and rubbed Bumblebee's back while he drank in small sips. Luckily, he kept it down well enough to try some food from June's bag, which he gobbled down eagerly with his medicine.
"The Decepticons are human too." Optimus said. "I am shipping out tonight with some Marines to kill him. If I want to keep him and Smokescreen in our care, I have to go. Bee, hopefully I will see you in two weeks. If not, Fowler will help to get you and Smokescreen into good foster homes." Bumblebee reached for a hug, and Optimus wrapped him in one, pulling the hood over his cleaned and returned cat-eared yellow hoodie. Bee smiled, and June pulled out two somethings she had picked up for him when she went shopping for Smokescreen and Bee.
Bee snatched the Minecraft bee plush as if he was afraid June would take it back, burying his face in the soft plush, a goofy smile on his face.
"And, I have something else too. I was talking with some of the medical staff, and we decided that this might be the best option for the time being." June pulled out a tablet in a blue case. "Bee, this tablet has a special software package called an AAC. Through it, it has thousands of words programed into it that you can use to speak without speaking. Of course, if you want to learn and use sign language, that is completely up to you, and we can arrange that. But, for now, this might make communication easier if you are up to using it. It's also a normal cheap kids tablet, so if you decide you don't like it, I can take the software off, and you can use it like an iPad."
"Yes. Want. Will learn. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Crap. Vagina. Stomach. " Clearly, Bumblebee liked it.
"June, why the swear words and organs?" Optimus asked.
"The software isn't able to be age locked, and it's not like Bumblebee doesn't know what those words mean."
"Yeah, you're right." Optimus got up and left to get packed up to ship out to the downed Nemesis.
Spoiler alert, assassinations are a lot easier when sniper rifles are an option. The war was over in literally three gunshots. Optimus had a laugh over Predaking being turned into a Great Dane wearing a harness with foam butterfly wings. He fell asleep on Optimus's feet on the way back to base, the Burns being gifted a very big lapdog.
Fowler arranged for the purchase of a big old house on Griffin Rock for Ratchet, Optimus, and Bumblebee, who were very happy to live out their old gay couple and adopted son dreams on an island where nobody even batted an eye at them.
Chase took in Smokescreen and Strongarm, who oddly enough was fifteen, a seventeen year old Sideswipe staying with a forty year old Grimlock at the junkyard.
Ultra Magnus joined the military as a strategist, Wheeljack as a ballistics expert.
Breakdown and Knockout opened a luxury auto body shop.
Arachnid, unsurprisingly, continued being a horrifying serial killer and is still at large to this day, though she is buried behind Knockout's auto body shop after she tried to kill Breakdown yet again.
Also, Knockout did give Arcee Arachnid's skull and hands as trophies, but if anyone asks, Optimus definitely doesn't know about it and certainly doesn't have Megatron's brain in a jar in his closet.
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