#blunt force

[ejzah]

Blunt Force, Part 17

***

A few days later, Kensi had spread out across Deeks’ couch, one elbow propped up on a pillow and her feet propped up on his thighs. He wasn’t sure if this had been typical for them pre-memory loss, but she seemed pretty comfortable right now. He didn’t exactly mind it either.

She’d brought a stack of romance and cheesy horror DVDs, declaring a movie day since she had the weekend off and he—well, he didn’t have anything in particular to do most days. Kensi had also brought a large bag of snacks and drinks which they’d put a serious dent in. So far, they’d watched “Titanic” and “Somewhere in Time” and now were on a 90s remake of some sixties show.

Deeks raised an eyebrow, gently knocking Kensi’s shoulder with the back of his hand as a character on screen killed his latest victim.

“Ok, why has no one connected the uptick in murders to the newfound relative who never comes out in the daytime?” he asked, eyeing the TV screen dubiously.

“Shh. Don’t bring your logic to my show,” she objected. “He’s a vampire.”

“Oh yeah, no I figured that part out the first time he bit somebody.”

Kensi shook her head in apparent disappointment at his lack of enthusiasm. “This from the guy who loves CHiPS.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. That show’s amazing,” he insisted, laughing and dodging Kensi’s jabbing elbow.

“That’s some of the worst acting I’ve ever seen.”

“You watch reality TV.”

“Don’t come for my shows,” Kensi said warningly. Even though she tried to keep a straight face, she couldn’t hide the laughter in her eyes. She shook her head, grabbing a few more pieces of popcorn as she settled back again.

He tapped her legs, gesturing for her to move. “I gotta pee. Don’t eat all the Pringles.”

“No promises,” Kensi called back as he walked out.

His real reason for leaving was a nagging headache. It had started after the first movie and slowly gotten a little worst, likely from the extended screen time. He didn’t want it to ruin the night with Kensi worrying about him.

Being with Kensi like this felt good. Normal. Like they’d done this before, even if he couldn’t remember it.

After swallowing a couple Tylenol, he wiped his face. Hopefully if he squinted, his headache wouldn’t escalate into a full-blown migraine.

When he walked back into the living room, he found Kensi pouring over one of his legal reference books, the snacks pushed to the side.

“I knew there was no way you actually liked that movie,” he commented and Kensi rolled her eyes. “If I knew we were switching activities I would have brought my legal pad for notes.”

“I saw the books stacked up over there and couldn’t help myself,” she explained, shifting the book in front of her. “Are brushing up on your legalese?”

He sat down beside her, flipping through the pages. Most of the material was content covered in the first couple years of law school. He’d pulled it out with everything else, just in case.

“It started out as cleaning out closets, and uh, kind of devolved into rediscovering some old files from pro bono cases I took,” he explained. Kensi’s brow furrowed in response to this.

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

“You are. In came in handy during some of our cases. Sometimes you’d go under as a lawyer,” she said. “You were pretty convincing.

Deeks fiddled with his hair, brushing the strands to the side. He hadn’t intended to bring this topic up just yet, especially not when they’d been having such s good night. He couldn’t lie to her. Not now when she was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What would you say if I told you I was thinking about pursuing law again?” he asked her softly. She leaned back slightly, as though the question physically shocked her.

“Uh…well, I thought you were miserable when you worked for the district attorney,” she blurted out.

“I was. The thought of going back makes my skin crawl. There are other settings though. Family law. Civil law. Divorce court.” He threw in the last one to ease the tension, but Kensi didn’t smile. He dipped his head; he’d expected as much after how often Kensi had talked about him returning to law enforcement. He’d just hoped for a better reception.

“When we first started working together, I’d been mostly working alone, right?” he started. She nodded slowly. “What was I like?”

Pressing her lips together, Kensi pivoted to face him. The easiness of earlier was long gone.

“When we met you, you were,” she sighed with a weight to it he couldn’t fully interpret, and smoothed her hands over her thighs. “You were jaded. You’d spent at least a couple years with almost no backup, weeks to months undercover, and really not trusting anyone. With good reason, I suppose.”

“And during that time, did I have an alias named Max Gentry?”

“Where’d you hear that name?” Kensi asked cautiously.

“It doesn’t matter. What kind of guy was Max Gentry?” he asked. He wasn’t about to throw Eric under the bus.

“I mean, he’s a roll you play to stop terrible things from happening.” When Deeks didn’t say anything, she sighed and added. “Max Gentry is a criminal who has worked with thieves, drug runners, and a lot of other unsavory people. He’s known for having a temper when pushed and isn’t above getting his hands dirty. He’s loyal and surprisingly sweet to those he cares about,” she rattled off as if reading from a character profile.

Deeks had figured as much from the couple of times Eric had missed redacting the alias from reports. Even with missing information, he’d gotten enough context.

“I know on the surface it looks bad, but you stopped criminal activity and saved people’s lives,” Kensi hurriedly to explain. “And you’re really good at it.”

“Great,” Deeks said with a humorous laugh. “I love hearing I make a convincing criminal.”

“Deeks.”

“You have know my background, Kensi. What my dad did to me and my mom.”

Based on her slightly guilty expression, she did. She stared down at her thumb running over her nails.

“I never want to be anything like him,” he continued. “Even if it’s for a good cause.”

“Ok, so you can retire that alias,” Kensi said reasonably, but he could see a hint of concern underneath.

“It’s not just that. I noticed the two scars on my chest. I figured it happened during a case. I’m not sure I want to live that way again.”

“You got those scars when someone wanted me, so they targeted you. You were shot twice,” Kensi said softly. She made a small noise, almost a laugh, but not in the least amused. “As selfish as it is, if you hadn’t been there, I would probably be dead.”

“Or you wouldn’t have been out in the open because I wasn’t in that hospital,” he countered.

“No, the man who wanted me would have found some way to isolate me,” she disagreed. “I don’t think anyone else on the team would have made the connection in time or gone to the lengths you did to save me,” she said, looking up now in wonder, directed right at him. “You ran through the hospital, tearing your stitches in the process, and shot the man aiming at me. I still don’t know how.”

“You make me sound like some kind of hero.”

“You are to a lot of people.”

“Kensi.” He shook his head, but she didn’t back down.

“It’s true. Look, I’m not going to try and sway you either way, but if you don’t come back, I’ll be losing an amazing partner.” She paused, squeezing her hands together so tightly, the skin tightened around her knuckles. She snuck a nervous look at him. “And if you don’t come back, I hope you’ll decide to stay in my life anyway, because I can’t live without you around. I tried. It doesn’t work.”

“And what if I never recover all of my memories?” he asked, which was still the biggest question lingering over both of them.

“My answer’s the same,” Kensi said firmly. “You’re still my friend and partner. Whatever you decide. Even if I don’t get to work with you any more.” She freed a hand and took his, holding it between them. “Because…you’re my everything. Deeks.”

[crownedhades]

i should probably get a brain scan at some point.

i have had a lot of blunt force trauma to the head throughout my life, and i wonder if that has contributed to... everything.

[whumpookies]

Whumpingo: Blunt force trauma

Kan çiçekleri knocked out from behind.

Hey look @99point9percentwhump I got 1 line 🤣

[adobe-outdesign]

Pokemon Legends Arceus: if you fall too far you'll break both your legs and die

Pokemon Legends Z-A: I'M PARKOURING ACROSS THE ROOFS WITH MY IPHONE FUCK YOUUUU

[forcefemdemonprincess]

Trying to hit someone with the forcefem hammer but they keep rolling dark souls style. You'll run of of stamina eventually you little shit

[venaacavaa]

This is so real

[wombywoo]

/my head is bloody, but unbowed/

[strawberrinoz]

i made a new save file to fully experience 1.6. here’s a farmer redesign (click for better quality if you’re on the mobile app… 🙁)

she goes by ruru. she has rbf. she’s an aspiring crazy cat lady and she has no concern for her well being

ok that’s it ty

[ejzah]

A/N: I’ve been working on this particular chapter for over a week. It’s definitely been a struggle, so I hope you enjoy it. Happy Friday!

***

Blunt Force, Part 18

Kensi spent the majority of the Saturday after Deeks dropped his bombshell on her in a state of near panic. She’d been using work to distract her, but now she had two days to dissect every word he said and overanalyze the situation. She’d tried running, cleaning her guns, and a reality TV marathon, but even wanna-be supermodels couldn’t keep her attention for long.

Deeks had said he hadn’t made a definite decision and still needed to figure out his options, but she knew he wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t serious.

Even though they spent almost as much time together now as they did as partners, she had the increasing fear she was slowly losing Deeks. Maybe it wouldn’t happen at first, but as work kept her busy and he went his own way, she’d see him less and less, eventually to the point where they maybe saw each other a couple times a year. She’d had it happen before with friends from college and the academy.

Honestly, what terrified her most was that she’d missed her opportunity for more with Deeks. They flirted, and teased, and danced right up to the line, but never put their true feelings into words. The hazards of working for NCIS and policies were a ready-made excuse to avoid it.

If Deeks didn’t return, the she wouldn’t have that excuse to fall back on. Which meant she’d have to decide on her own. That was an equally terrifying thought. She hadn’t trusted anyone like that since the day she woke up to an empty bed and a note from Jack.

Deeks certainly hadn’t brought up the night she kissed him or anything else related to their relationship. She had a feeling that wouldn’t change unless she made the first move again.

She just had to decide if taking that leap and risking her heart, and everything else, was worth it.

***

“What is Phantom of the Opera,” Deeks responded, lifting his head long enough to get confirmation he’d earned his imaginary $400 before turning his attention back to the surfboard laid out on a taro on the floor. He still had a few more weeks before he’d be cleared to go out on the water, but decided to prep a few of the boards that looked more worn. Not to mention, he actually enjoyed the process.

As the next Jeopardy! category was chosen, the doorbell rang. Deeks grabbed the remote and muted the TV, jogging around the tarp. He opened the door to Kensi standing there with a take out bag and a pack of drinks. She held them up with a tight grin.

“Dinner?”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over,” he said, stepping to the side. “I know my memory isn’t the best anymore, but I’m usually not that forgetful.”

“It’s a surprise,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. I uh, didn’t exactly prepare for visitors.” He gestured to his shorts and old t-shirt.

“I think I’ll survive,” she teased him. Her eyes flicked over him and she seemed about to say something else. Instead, she just smiled again and brushed by him, heading into the living room.

He followed along, taking the opportunity to observe. Something was off. She didn’t seem upset, but definitely overly bright, maybe even edging towards nervous.

“Looks like I interrupted a project,” she observed, nodding to the surfboard.

“Yeah, no, I was just passing the time. Manifesting I clear my next concussion check if you will,” he told her.

“I’ll slip the doctor five dollars,” she joked with an awkward little chuckle that made him smile in return. He grabbed the edge of the tarp, dragging it to the other side of the room.

“Have a seat. I’ll grab you a beer. Eric brought some by the other day when he visited. It’s not really my taste, even if I could drink right now.”

Kensi stopped him before he could leave the room. “No need, I’ve got it covered.” She held up the case of bottles. “It’s this fancy flavored sparkling wonder. I also got Chinese, a little sushi, and some Italian, because I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for.” She rambled on, laying out bottles, containers, trays and sporks.

Deeks pursed his lips to conceal his amusement, and sat down, deciding to wait her out. They split up the food between them, and settled onto the couch.

Kensi started in on a story about one of their early cases, waving her fork through the air, but not actually eating much of the food on her plate. He’d never heard her talk this quickly or this much at once. He couldn’t imagine what had her this worked up.

“—so of course we couldn’t get back into the dorm, and we knew if we got caught sneaking in after curfew, we’d be in so much trouble. Of course Tiffany suggested we climb up to a window and get one of our other friends to let us in but—”

“Ok, what’s going on?” he interrupted, halfway through the third meandering story from her college years. Highly entertaining as it was, clearly giving her time wasn’t working,

“What do you mean?” she asked, rubbing her hands over her thighs. “You love my embarrassing stories.”

“That’s true. Normally I have to pry some of the details out of you. You’ve been all squirrelly since you got here. Something’s up,” he said, and Kensi let out a sharp, exceedingly nervous cackle.

“Deeks…”

“Hey, I thought we were being honest with each other.” He nudged her shoulder and nodded encouragingly. “Whatever it is, I won’t judge. I’m just here as a friend.”

“Oh god,” she sighed, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere else right now. Turning, she smiled, anxiety radiating off of her. “I’ve been thinking about this for days, well worrying would probably be the better word. Trying to figure out what to say, how to say it, and um, I still haven’t really managed that yet.” Pausing again, she grabbed his hand in one of her, her palms a little sweaty and her fingers shaking against his.

“Kensi, what are you doing?”

“I am,” she paused to exhale slowly. “Being brave.” Then she cupped his face in both hands, kissing him deeply. He leaned into it, threading his fingers into her hair to hold he even closer. He let himself enjoy the warmth and pressure of her lips on his for a few moments before he drew back, gently untangling Kensi’s arms from around him.

A hint of hurt and embarrassment flashed in her eyes, shoulders tensing, and he could almost see her considering running again.

“Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you weren’t ready for this,” he said gesturing between them. Kensi exhaled ever so slightly, the tension leaving her body.

“I wasn’t,” she agreed. I’ve never been because we’re partners, or it might ruin our friendship, or…” she waved her hand. “I might lose you somehow. This week I realized I’ve spent way too long being afraid of making the wrong choices and the what ifs. I’m done. So, if you’ll have me, I want to give us a try.”

He felt a rush of affection for her mixed with regret that she was so afraid of taking this step. Whatever they’d shared previously, had clearly scared her off the possibility of them dating.

“I’m willing to take the chance.” He licked his bottom lip, needing to be fully honest with her. “The question is, are you willing to be with me if I never go back to being the guy you know? I might not ever recover all of my memories.”

Kensi lowered her head, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. After a few moments, she looked him directly in the eye, her gaze steady and certain. “You’re still my Deeks,” she told him, cupping his cheek again. “That won’t ever change.”

[gremmlingamer]

[stealingpotatoes]

ideal Star Wars blunt rotation? Alternatively, ideal dinner guests

i'm gonna say anakin and obi-wan bc i think if qui-gon had lived long enough to give obi-wan and anakin a blunt or even a xanax the entirety of star wars would have been fixed

[bee-ina-boat]

I have a vision

[bugeyedfreaks]

This is a work of art from Ace’s miserable face to Grubber’s ridiculously key-filled pants.

[funkervogt]

Im not good at project zomboid at all but heres my girl her name is Tiffany Grace and she loves her life so much

[tennessoui]

Obikin for number 41 of the ask game, if you’re up for it - thanks!

absolutely!

[from this list of prompts]

[5. 'are you jealous' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

41. "you did all of this for me?"

Vader's precious padawan blinks down at him, lovely blue eyes wet and wide. He's sitting in an empty Council seat, Anakin's Council seat, and Vader is kneeling at his feet. Vader had once sworn, years ago now at the time he first earned his Sith name, that he would never kneel at another's feet again.

What a fool he'd been then.

Or--not a fool. Just so incredibly shortsighted.

"I don't understand," Obi-Wan tells him quietly, and Vader gives him a smile, shakes his head in fondness. There is very little in the entire galaxy that his padawan can't understand should he put his mind to it.

Obi-Wan simply does not want to understand, though the evidence is laid out so neatly before him. Physically before him, for that matter.

His padawan's stubbornness would be endearing if it were not so inconvenient. If it did not come with the boy drawing his knee up and out of Vader's reach the moment he goes to touch him.

As if he cannot bear his master's touch. As if he does not recognize him.

Vader lets out a measured breath, searching to calm himself. It is hardly his padawan's fault that he's reacting this way. Vader had always envisioned himself coaxing Obi-Wan into the truth in order to let him accept it.

Tonight had hardly gone as planned.

For all parties involved.

"I had no choice," Vader tells him now, grasping his knee with his flesh palm and pushing it up--allowing himself to touch, to feel. He'd returned to the Temple long past sunset. Had stopped here in the Council chambers first for a moment before fetching his padawan from his bed. Obi-Wan is still in his night clothes, pale and vulnerable and suitable only for Vader's eyes.

But then, Vader has always thought that.

"You killed the Chancellor," Obi-Wan tells him. His voice jumps up, high and distressed and his eyes flicker back and forth between Vader and the body behind him. The Chancellor's head is somewhere further away still, though his padawan cannot bring himself to look at it. "The Chancellor of the Republic!"

"Yes," Vader agrees. It had been a death long overdue, but Obi-Wan does not need to know that.

"He was my friend," Obi-Wan says, eyebrows furrowed and eyes so wet and beautiful. It means something, Vader thinks. That Obi-Wan is not running away. That he isn't screaming. That he has allowed himself to be pushed into Anakin Skywalker's Council seat even after seeing the body that Vader has brought him. Even after seeing Anakin Skywalker's golden eyes.

"He was my master," Vader says, and watches carefully--greedily--as the realization slides across his padawan's face. There is pain and sadness and disbelief and hurt and anger and agony, and his padawan wears them all so beautifully.

"You said--" Obi-Wan stops, wets his lips. His eyes jump to Vader's face and then remain there, pinned and punishing. "You said it was for me. That you...you did it for me. All of it?"

"Yes," Vader agrees easily, though Obi-Wan has not been very specific. It is true nonetheless. Since the boy came into his life all those years ago, hurt and angry and wounded at the tender age of fifteen, everything Anakin Skywalker has done has been for the boy. All of it. Always. He Fell for him. He killed for him. He protected him from every silent threat that could have hurt him, every lustful Jedi who got too close to him, every disappointment, every skinned knee. Or he tried to, at least. And took away his pain when he couldn't be there to stop the insult in the first place. All of it has been for the boy. His boy. His precious padawan.

"But I...I never wanted anyone to die," Obi-Wan whispers, eyes tugged back to the headless body of the Chancellor. "I never...I never wanted you to Fall. Master, this isn't you, this isn't--"

Vader leans forward. Obi-Wan's night clothes have slipped up his leg from the touch of Vader's hand, and his padawan's skin is exposed. Vader has spent years exercising control that fails him now. He presses his lips against that fragile, soft skin, and the Force rears back with desire.

Not his own desire.

"You have a choice, little one," he murmurs, reveling in the feeling of his lips brushing against skin that has for so long been denied to him by his own self-control. If he were a weaker man, perhaps he would have given into his padawan's desires long ago. Before things were ready. Before the moment was right. "You have many choices to make, actually. And so little time to make them."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says, pleas, really. His hands tangle in his hair, though if the boy means to tug him away, he forgets to. Instead, the touch simply lingers. "Please, Master, I don't--I won't--"

"The Chancellor had plans to destroy the Jedi Order and the Republic," Vader says, low and sweet. "He has placed control chips in the minds of the clones. The right phrase, said into the right comm-link, will trigger the downfall of the Jedi."

"No," Obi-Wan breathes, which is what Vader had thought his padawan would think. It is so sweet to be proven correct.

Though it is a pity, really. He thinks he would have liked to be emperor now that Sidious has fallen. But though the tug of the Dark Side encourages greed, there is undeniably something that Vader wants more than the galaxy.

"I know," he soothes his padawan, using the Force to tug him closer. The boy doesn't resist, as if he has forgotten that he can. "I know, it would have been horrible, sweetheart. But I killed him. He is dead."

He is dead for unrelated reasons, of course. Dead not because of his plans or because of the Order. Dead because he dared invite Obi-Wan for tea while Vader was off planet. Dead because he touched his padawan, put his hand on his shoulder during a public appearance at the opera.

Obi-Wan does not need to know this.

"I have to go though," Vader tells him instead. A whisper. Heartbroken and gutted and utterly false. "He manipulated me into Falling, sweet one. And now I have to go because the Jedi Order will imprison me should I stay."

And, like the sweetest of victories, Obi-Wan's hands clench tighter into his hair. "No," he says. "No, they wouldn't--we can explain. You can--can explain--"

"I cannot risk my freedom in that way, sweetling," Vader says, and his voice is hurt and hard and so, so false. "They will not listen. Or they will see a Fallen man, a Sith with golden eyes, and they will fear him. They will take you away from me. Give you to another master to train."

"They won't--"

"They will," Vader murmurs. He pushes his hands higher up Obi-Wan's legs, taking the nightrobes with him as he goes. Exposing more of his padawan to the cool night air of the Council chambers, to the heat of his master's eyes. "If not because I am a man Fallen then because they will certainly check the security holos of this room. And they will see this. My mouth on your skin. Your hands in my hair. Of course they will take you away from me should we stay."

Obi-Wan trembles beneath his lips. He trembles and his Force signature sways, burning hot with guilt and shame and desire. Longing. Love.

"So you have a choice, baby. I need to leave. Because of what I did to protect you. And you--you can let me go alone, or you can come with me."

His padawan's hands tighten in his hair, and Vader could be Force-blind and still feel the pulse of want at his words. But it is not enough to have Obi-Wan Kenobi want him. He needs to need him.

He needs to follow him.

"I would never leave you," Vader tells him. This, finally, after everything else, is the truth. He wonders if his padawan understands it for the threat it is. "Please, Obi-Wan. Do not leave me either."

Obi-Wan's blue eyes, so lovely, so loved, blink down at him. He opens his mouth and wets his lips. "Master," he murmurs. It is the most beautiful sound, his capitulation.