#it's such a comfort season and era
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DOCTOR WHO
Smith and Jones (3.01)
#doctor who#dwedit#rtdedit#martha jones#tenth doctor#david tennant#freema agyeman#marthajonesedit#tenedit#timelordgifs#userbbelcher#chewieblog#usersource#tvedit#scifigifs#scifiedit#tvarchive#dailyflicks#the doctor#denim rose graphics#brotp: if that's how you still see me#love this season#it's such a comfort season and era#until the end lol; that's just trauma#but she was like fresh air
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ANNA TORV as Olivia Dunham (Fringe) | 1.19 The Road Not Taken
BONUS:
#Anna Torv#Olivia Dunham#fringeedit#giffing her face is my comfort food#can't believe i'm ALMOST done with season 1#im really gonna miss the loose hair#ponytail era just around the corner#1x19 The Road Not Taken#gifs*#olivia gifs*
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do you know that quiet kid experience of finally speaking up while in a group except you suddenly don't know what to do about eye contact so you always end up looking at only one particular person who you know will stop and listen to you, and then they do it with such attentiveness and authority that everyone else stops to listen as well. because i think that when they first started hanging out with lucas and dustin, mike would have been that person to will.
#even after he gets more comfortable and outgoing around them the habit still lingers. and then comes the season three era ☹️#byler#txt#🌟🌷
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❝Here for You❞
paring: Rick Grimes x f!Reader
summary: After Lori's death, you're there to comfort Rick in any way he needs.
Set in season 3 in the prison after Lori's death
word count: 1,569
content warnings: NSFW // smut // angst // hurt no comfort // pining
cross posted on ao3!
You've always had a thing for Rick. Ever since he arrived at the camp in Atlanta, you had your eye on him.
But he was married.
You weren't a home-wrecker. You wouldn't dare intrude on the happy relationship of a man who was reunited with his family he thought was dead. But that didn't stop you from stealing glances. Sometimes you swore you could feel his blue eyes staring at you too. At some point, those stolen glances turned into the two of you looking longingly at each other. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same about you?
But be was married.
The longing looks weren't the only thing setting your heart ablaze. It was the way Rick would place his hands on your hips whenever he needed to get by. The way his touch would linger. Not only that, but he was so protective of you, but never controlling . He even took the time to teach you how to properly use a gun. And he always, always made sure you had something to eat, even if it meant less for him. He had to have liked you just a little bit, right?
But be was married.
You knew for sure you'd never have a shot with Rick after you found out Lori was pregnant. Even if nobody could be sure the baby's his, he still stuck by her and who were you to get between that.
But still, that did nothing to stop the fleeting moments between the two of you. In fact, they seemed to happen even more. Maybe he indulged in his desires a bit to soothe his aching heart from the pain of not really knowing if his unborn baby was his. Despite all of this, you fought hope. You wanted him so so bad, but you knew there wasn't a chance in hell it would happen.
Because he was married.
But then he wasn't. Shit hit the fan: the farm was overrun by walkers, Sophia turned, Shane was killed, Andrea never came back, a prison became a home, a baby was born... oh , and Lori died.
It's not like that made you happy. You were sad that she didn't get to say goodbye, that she didn't get time with her newborn, that Rick lost his wife. It took a toll on him. He wasn't the same. He was crazy even. Everyone was on edge around him, constantly walking eggshells as to not set him off. There was just so much tension.
And the tension felt even more uncomfortable as the two of you made your way back to the prison after an unsuccessful run. The tension practically filled the little green car with all the words left unsaid, questions left unasked, feelings left unknown. So, you decided to speak to him for the first time in months.
"Are you okay?" you asked timidly.
His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
" 'M fine," he mumbled not taking his eyes off the road.
That was a damn lie and you both knew it.
"Rick," you said softly, "we're alone now. If you want to talk abou-"
"I said I'm fine!"
He may not have wanted to talk, but you could tell he needed to be comforted and you wanted to be the one to offer him that comfort, no matter how he wanted it. No matter how he needed it.
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, much like how he used to do to you before everything happened.
He sighed with relent before pulling the car over and putting it in park. He placed his hand on top of yours and looked over at you. You fought not to get lost in the sea of his blue eyes as you stared back at him.
"I'm.. I'll be fine, I promise."
You leaned closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch.
"Y'know I'm here to comfort you, right? In any way you need me, I'm here," you promised.
His baby blue eyes drifted from yours down to your lips. His whole demeanor changed. He relaxed for the first time in a while. So much so, he let his inhibitions go as he pulled you closer and crashed his lips into yours.
So many feelings rushed through your head the second your lips made contact. You were shocked. You dreamed and fantasized about this moment forever and now that it was finally happening, you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers. You reciprocated the kiss, indulging in every second before Rick hastily pulled away.
"I'm so sorry," he said between gentle pants "I shouldn't have done that."
Your heart sank. You resented that he regretted your happiest moment.
"Rick," you said with your forehead still against his, "I want this. I want you ." You didn't care how desperate you sounded. Once you got a taste of Rick, you needed more.
And perhaps he felt the same about you because he didn't hesitate to pull you back in for another kiss. Trying your best not to break the kiss, you climbed from the passenger seat onto his lap. His tongue found its way into your mouth and tasted you as if he'd never get another taste. You moaned against his mouth as you tangled your hands in his curly hair. His hands traversed your body before practically tearing off the button up shirt you wore.
"You sure you want this?" he asked. His blue eyes, glistening in the sunlight, looked at you with uncertainty. You could tell he wanted this, but even more so he didn't want to hurt you.
You responded by grinding against his hardening bulge as you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. His hands firmly gripped your hips as ground you onto his clothed erection. He pulled away from your mouth and placed open mouthed kisses down your neck. You didn't miss the occasional grunts you coaxed out of him which only encouraged you to keep going. He reached up and unclasped your bra, slid it off your arms, and tossed it aside. Embarrassed by the exposure, you automatically moved to cover yourself, but Rick caught your wrists.
"Don't. Let me see you. You're so beautiful," he rasped.
Oh Rick. He was even sweeter than you anticipated which set you ablaze and drove the butterflies in your tummy crazy. You needed him. You hurried to undo his belt as he was fondling your breasts while placing kisses along your collar bones. He lifted his hips just enough for you to pull his pants down. He took a nipple into his mouth as you palmed his bulge through his boxers.
"I-I need you," you wantonly moaned.
" 'M all yours."
You freed his rock hard erection from his boxers and stroked it a few times before moving to pull off your own pants. Rick helped you get out of them, stopping for a second to admire the wetness accumulated in your panties. He pulled them aside and lined his dick with your entrance, letting you slowly sink down on it. He stretched you so good that the pain only added to your pleasure.
"I've fantasized about you since you arrived at the camp in Atlanta," you confessed.
"I can't say I haven't wanted you this way for a while too. Whenever I caught you staring at me with those doe eyes, my imagination ran wild."
Once you felt comfortable enough, you began to move. You held onto his shoulders for support as you bounced on his dick. He threw his head back as he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. He couldn't take it anymore and held onto your hips again as he thrusted up into you. He watched you with admiration in his eyes as your breasts bounced with each and every one of his thrusts.
"You feel so good around my cock, princess."
"Oh god Rick, I think I'm gonna-"
You didn't get to finish your sentence since he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down for another kiss. Your walls clenched around him as his thrusts grew sloppy. You were both about to cum.
"That's it, cum for me Lori."
You both froze. The butterflies in your tummy were stabbed to death by the shards of your broken heart. You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to hold back the hot tears burning the corners of your eyes. Rick looked at you brokenheartedly with shame swimming in his eyes as you pulled yourself off of him.
"Lor- er, Y/N, I'm sor-"
"Don't."
God you sounded so... broken .
You both dressed yourselves in awkward silence. Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He sounded like he wanted to say something, but decided against it, which was good because you'd have ignored him anyway.
"The sun's setting, we should get back to the prison," you said cooly.
"Y/N, I-"
"Just stop!"
A beat of silence passed and Rick finally started up the car and resumed the drive back to the prison.
You let your tears fall silently as you stared out the window, but you eventually closed your eyes. Your stomach churned at the sight of his wedding band's reflection in the window, signifying that even though his wife was dead, he was still married.
#the walking dead#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#the walking dead smut#rick grimes x reader smut#rick grimes x reader angst#rick grimes x you#angst#smut#hurt/comfort#hurt no comfort#x reader#female reader#fanfic#lori grimes#twd season 3#prison era#prison
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Six Weeks
Read here on Ao3!
Whumptober 2024 - Day 22 - Prompts: Bleeding through Bandages // Reopening Wounds
Rated: T (for mentions of injury) | Words: 1391
“You have two choices, captain. You can spend the next six weeks in medical under the careful watch of a medic to make sure you don’t do anything stupid; or, you go home for six weeks and let your brothers make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
Omega rolls her eyes. “You forget it was my brothers who taught me most of my ‘stupid’ stunts, Hera.”
“Maybe,” Hera admits. “However, one look at your injuries, and I have a feeling they’ll become the most insufferable mother nexus you’ve ever seen until you’re cleared for active duty.”
“That’s not a feeling, Hera,” Omega groans, trying to shrug into her jacket with her one good arm, “That’s a kriffing fact. I’m never going to hear the end of it when they find out what happened.”
“You haven’t told them yet?” Hera gasps, helping Omega thread her injured arm through the other sleeve.
“Of course not. If I did, they’d be storming the base right now demanding to see me. It’s not like I’m on my deathbed, Hera. I crashed, I survived, I’m fine.”
“Your definition of ‘fine’ needs work.”
Omega slides off the medical cot, favoring her left leg. “I’ll take that into consideration while I’m forced to lie around for a month and a half.”
“Good.”
As Omega starts to limp out of medical, Hera stops her, pulling her into an embrace, carefully avoiding Omega’s cracked ribs. “I’m so happy you’re alright, Megs.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Omega mutters with a grin.
Hera laughs. “Don’t give your brothers too much trouble, got it?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
**
On General Syndulla’s orders, Omega is not allowed to fly herself back to Pabu. Instead, she is being transported by a shiny new recruit everyone calls Iggy, for whatever reason. They land in the middle of the planet’s night cycle, Omega directing Iggy to the cave that typically houses her own ship when it isn’t being held hostage by Hera.
“Need help with your bags, captain,” Iggy asks as Omega pushes herself unsteadily to her feet.
Omega waves him off. “It’s one bag, and I’ve got it. I’m not a complete invalid.”
That makes Iggy grin. “Understood, captain.”
Despite protests, Iggy does help her down the ramp and hovers as Omega gets her footing on the uneven cave floor. He tries to convince her to let him walk her up to the house, but Omega insists that she’s fine. She finds one of Batcher’s long pieces of driftwood the hound has a habit of hoarding in the corner. “See, I’ve got a walking stick, I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure,” Iggy relents. He gives a sloppy salute. “See you in six weeks?”
“Six weeks,” Omega agrees.
Omega watches him off, leaning heavily on her makeshift cane. Somehow, being so close to her brothers and their anticipated mothering makes her feel less valiant about her wounds. No matter how old she gets, how experienced she becomes, she feels like a child again with her brothers nearby to protect her.
As she makes her way up the worn path, her injuries make themselves known. The laceration on her thigh pulses under the bandage, her sprained shoulder and elbow ache in her sling, her cracked ribs throb with every intake of air. Maybe she should have let Iggy carry her bag.
Omega focuses on her surroundings, the familiar sound of nighttime breathing around her, the muted roll of waves on the beach. The scent of fresh air and sea laced with the sweet smell of local flora. How many dark nights did she sit with her brothers, watching the stars and listening to stories? Countless nights leaning against Hunter or Crosshair or Wrecker until she fell asleep to the rumble of their voices, to then be coaxed awake to go to bed.
When she finally makes it to the back door, she pulls out the key already tucked in her coat pocket, and makes her way inside. She drops her bag by the door, propping her stick next to it, then limps as quietly as she can to the kitchen. She hopes to find leftover supper put away, or, better yet, cookies in the corner cupboard.
She checks for the cookies first and finds them, plucking the box from the shelf and putting it on the counter before turning to get two cups. Right on time, the kitchen light clicks on, and Omega smiles.
“Omega?” Hunter asks groggily.
She doesn’t turn. “Took you long enough,” Omega says lightly. “Hungry? I was just making myself a snack.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. Did it work?”
Hunter snorts. “We would’ve waited up for you if we’d known.”
“Exactly,” Omega says, moving to get out the milk, “you old guys need your sleep.”
She hears Hunter step closer. “Omega, are you injured?”
“I’ll be alright,” Omega says, but her body betrays her and she nearly stumbles on a side step.
Hunter catches her bad elbow.
The pain is immediate, and Omega tries so hard to stifle the cry that reactively comes. It only partially works, the sound escaping like a shrill whine in the back of her throat.
“What–where are you hurt?” Hunter demands, withdrawing his grip but stepping closer.
Omega leans against the counter, waiting for the wave of pain to fade. “Uh, that’s not a short list,” she grits out.
“You need to sit down,” Hunter says. “Did you walk all the way here from the cavern?”
“Yeah, not the wisest decision I’ve ever made,” Omega admits.
She finally turns around, letting the light expose her visible injuries. She hasn’t looked in a mirror recently; however, she knows must look even more awful than she feels. The look in her brother’s eyes confirms it.
His expression tightens. “You should be in a medical bay.”
“Well, it was that or this, and I’d take an opportunity to visit my brothers any day.” Omega lifts her good arm, and Hunter brings it over his shoulder, taking most of Omega’s weight as she hobbles into the common room. Omega is thankful he doesn’t try to carry her.
Once she’s settled on the couch, Hunter looms over her. “Well, I’d like that long list of injuries now.”
With a sigh, she gives it to him, doing her best not to gloss over pertinent details. When she gets to the laceration on her leg, Hunter looks down at the bandaging. “Looks like you reopened it with your little hike from the beach,” he says, and Omega glances down. A small bloom of blood stains the careful wrap.
“Kriff,” Omega curses.
Hunter massages the bridge of his nose, heaving a lung deep sigh. “I’ll check it over and get it re-wrapped. We’ll send for AZI in the morning.”
Omega nods, sinking into the worn cushions. “Okay.”
Hunter stands up, but before he leaves, he rests a hand on Omega’s head, calloused fingers tousling her hair. “It’s good to see you, kid.”
“You too,” Omega returns softly.
She knows her brother will take care of her, just like he always has.
**
Omega wakes to sunlight pouring through her window. Miraculously, neither Wrecker or Crosshair woke up during the night while Hunter redressed her wounds and got her situated in bed. She can’t even remember Hunter turning out the bedroom light before she fell asleep.
She turns her head and sees an old comm unit on her bedside table, a torn piece of flimsi propped against it. Do not get up. Call if you need anything it says in scrawled letters. Omega rolls her eyes and smiles.
“Do you think she’s awake?” Wrecker’s version of a whisper practically rattles the door.
“If she wasn’t, she is now,” Crosshair hisses back.
Omega’s smile deepens. “I’m awake!” she calls out.
The door flies open, Wrecker’s exuberant presence filling the room. “Megs! Why didn’t you tell us why you were coming?” he cries.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Omega says, laughing, moving to push herself up on her good elbow.
Crosshair is leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Liar. You just didn’t want to tell us you crashed a stolen TIE fighter.”
“It’s a good story, I promise,” Omega assures him.
The ex-sniper smirks at her. “It better be.”
END
A/N: I actually had a little bit more written for this; so I might add a second part if I get that portion finished ;-;
Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!
Tag List: @followthepurrgil @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @merkitty49 @blackseafoam @illogicaalbraindump
#whumptober2024#no.22#bleeding through bandages#reopening wounds#Star Wars: The Bad Batch#Fic#Physical Whump#non-graphic mentions of injury#Omega Whump#TBB Omega#Hera Syndulla#TBB Hunter#TBB Wrecker#TBB Chrosshair#hurt/comfort#post season 3#rebellion era#rebellion Omega#fics by kyber
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Arcane season 2 aka The Gays and Lesbians' Divorce Era™
Spoilers For Arcane S2 Below
These poor babies
#arcane#arcane season 2#viktor arcane#jayvik#caitvi#jayce talis#divorce era#act 1? more like ANGST 1#who needs hugs? no? just me? aight#riot hitting with the hurt/no comfort this act
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okokok hear me out I've just seen a tiktok pushing remus lupin as James Acaster on taskmaster, therefore I'm thinking what if someone wrote the marauders in taskmaster, maybe with regulus as the taskmaster??
but also who would be little Alex horne (the guy that just gets bullies for the whole show and is also very gay with the taskmaster) because me personally I'm thinking james or have evan as the taskmaster and barty as Alex horne
someone please write this I'm begging I would literally pay for it or if anyone knows a fic please send it to me
#remus is literally james acaster even down to the swearing problem#like i might make a post on james acaster moments that remind me of him#theres so many possibilities with please i just want to read about my comfort characters doing stupid shit#someone write this im begging#i would literally pay for it#the marauders era#marauders era#the marauders#marauders#dead gay wizards from the 70s#marauders fic#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter#regulus black#evan rosier#barty crouch jr#i need to see more of them not being sad and just them being chaotic little shits#no need to even come up with new challenges literally just use the ones from previous seasons#specifically series 7
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Ohhh, I thought of an itafushi yuri au (but I guess yaoi would work too) for Halloween with Witch! Megumi and Werewolf! Yuuji basically taking the Farcillene plot from Dungeon Meshi.
Like, come on, there's a lot of tragic romance in you resurrecting your lover because you can't imagine the world without them and then it comes back to bite you in the ass.
And, wow, the more I think about it, the more excited I am getting (and because drawing Witch! Megumi is incredibly fun)
#What I have planned is more like a gothic adventure through the medieval era with Megs being a student of the witch Satoru Gojo (lol)#and on one of her trips to Sendai she meets Yuuji who is about to marry Osawa after his grandfather's death#it turns out that they become super friends and start to nurture romantic feelings#but hey! We have the wedding and Megs can't take Yuuji away from the comfortable life she deserves#but then Yuu kind of weel dies :D#probably something to do with mahito and a popular belief of “how tasty is the heart of a virgin about to go to the altar”#so the rest is just farcillene coded except that instead of a chimera Yuji turns into a werewolf#TA-DA#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#megumi fushiguro#jjk spoilers#fushiguro megumi#itafushi#itadori yuji#fushiita#yuji itadori#halloween#spooky#spooky season#happy halloween#halloween vibes
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*puts Draxum in a skirt again* anyway I decided to try a new lighting style
#rottmnt#minor interference au#rottmnt baron draxum#rottmnt fanart#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#my art#i don't draw him without his helmet much (mostly cause we're still in season 1 era and he wears his helmet like 99% of the time hes awake)#but this is absolutely an outfit he'd wear in the s2 equivalent of MI when he's more comfortable without his helmet on#and then leo asks him if he dresses slutty on purpose lol
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Hiya there, shippers & readers
After our usual game/watch-along round was profoundly derailed by some recent fandom events, we really feel like our response and the time we spent spilling our hearts in our fandom-vent channel made us that much closer. We got some new members and we've had a lot of new fun times. It feels like we're ready to embark on a new chapter of reading fic and discussing it together. It also brought about another sentiment; a special desire to interact with something in our beloved fanspace that doesn't always get a lot of love. That is, the steven fic.
And there is a lot of it, surprisingly. Ranging from the early years in the background of shyan or featuring in his own peculiar way in pairings and threesomes, either way, we decided that it was really time for us to show some love for fiction!Steven in hopes to inspire more. Due to that, we voted in 9 nominations and decided that the top 3 would stand as milestones in our Steven season journey. Among those three, the top of the vote was a very particular favourite of this mod's
under thy tongue by makemadej (santamonicayachtclub)
The book club as a whole seemed to agree that this fic is holistically a beautiful piece, that it reads like what it must feel like to observe the iconography of classic artists painting god and the angels in all their mythos as Steven navigates an ephemeral opportunity to be intimate with Ryan.
Rating: E
Summary: Ryan sprains his ankle because basketball and ends up staying at Steven's place. Guess how many beds there are.
Book Club Thoughts
First off, I'm a shyan shipper but…. this fic really sold me on this pairing we don't get enough opportunities to talk about steven/ryan as a pair esp since ryan is such an open book but he's the kind of guy who feels a lot of guilt about purchasing big things for himself and mean while Steven is more reserved but there has always been something so wonderfully hedonistic about him the setting of it feels very liminal, and it adds to the tone The nature behind Steven almost feeling like this is something he may not be allowed to have as the thought of Shane lingers over his head even though the dude is on the other side of the world, yet Steven is still there to take care of Ryan in all the terms. It's just how beautiful Steven's character and personality is written in this fic. i love stevens religion being used as a tool of indulgence rather than restriction. he is fully worshipping ryan. a man so beautiful you gotta experience him in a biblical sort of way And all of this being from Steven's pov just really fits his love of the nicer things and his appetite so well his saying "there's nothing wrong with wanting" feels so poignant to how he operates here to the end of the fic. He has always had desires but he doesn't steal and he didn't want to feel like he was stealing Ryan so when Ryan starts to ask him to do things that he--Steven-wants to do, it's surprising to him. it's about the devotion to god and Ryan's godlike physique that can't be anything other but the manifestation of god's love on earth i adore the dream-like quality of this fic. the liminal energy of the timeline and that they know they wont be staying together, yet it's still so intimate and loving There is such beauty in the way he is written; a kind, quiet, methodical individual. His language of love being acts of service is so fantastically written. It’s true service… and yet there’s the quiet self satisfaction Steven indulges in as he’s…. servicing Ryan….. This fic is a quiet, calming, dare I say meditative read. It’s comfort, somewhat bittersweet in the way their entanglement is temporary.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US FOR OUR NEXT DISCUSSION? CHECK OUT THE FAQ, AND SEND US AN ASK! IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR FIC RECS, PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR READS, NOMINEES AND BOOK CLUB REC LISTS!
#shyan#stryan#limgara#limgara fic#pre-watcher era#bed sharing#hurt comfort#biblical themes#somewhat unrequited#read of the week#sbbookclub#steven season
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In Your Darkest Hours, Part 2
A/N: The continuation of yesterday’s story.
***
When Deeks came back 30 minutes later, he looked marginally better, but completely wrung out. He’d thrown on grey sweatpants and an old t-shirt that hung loosely on his frame. Suddenly he looked noticeably thinner to her, and she wondered if he’d been eating regularly.
“Hey, I got some food from that Italian place you like,” she said, feeling unaccountably awkward. She’d felt the same last time, but she’d quickly pushed her discomfort aside in her concern for Deeks.
“I’m not really hungry,” Deeks said, lowering himself onto the couch with an exhausted sigh.
“Deeks, you need to eat. Even if you don’t feel like it, you’ll feel better.”
“Fine.” He sighed, accepting a plate of reheated shells and cheese with green beans and a breadstick. Kensi settled opposite him with her own plate.
Since Deeks wasn’t maintaining the conversation like usual, she found herself taking up the mantle and chattering away. She was halfway through a story about the time she ate half a family size bag of skittles, when Deeks made a small noise. It was the softest of sounds, but she stopped talking immediately.
His eyes were closed, jaw clenched so tightly the tendons were visible, brows drawn together in a wince while his fingers curled tightly around a handful of his sweats. He inhaled through his nose, quick little breaths that became increasingly short and uneven. Her heart sank as she recognized the clear signs of an oncoming panic attack.
Shoving her plate to the side, she dropped to her knees in front of him as he fought for control.
“Deeks, it’s ok,” she said, internally hating herself for saying such a stupid thing. Obviously everything was the farthest it could be from ok. “Deeks, do you hear me?” While she spoke, Kensi curled her fingers around his, squeezing lightly.
He nodded once, eyes still closed, and tried to inhale kore deeply.
“That’s good, Deeks. I want you to focus on my hands, ok?” He nodded again, body shaking. “Good. Ok, breathe with me.”
After several minutes, the tension in Deeks’ body slowly eased, and he slumped against the couch. He cracked his eyes open, any lingering energy gone.
“Can I have some water?” he whispered.
“Of course.” Kensi rushed off to get it, returning with a full glass of cool water and pain medication. Deeks accepted both without a word. His hand shook when he took the glass, so Kensi stood close by just in case until he emptied it.
When he was done, she set it to the side, sitting next to him.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I needed a revision on one of my implants,” he explained softly, eyes dull and unfocused. “Because of the—the damage. Sometimes it hurts when I chew and,” his tongue flicked out to lick his bottom lip. “It puts me right back there.”
“Oh my god, Deeks. I’m so sorry,” Kensi apologized. “If I’d known—”
“It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you,” he interrupted quickly.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kensi couldn’t completely hide the the hurt in her voice. She’d thought he trusted her.
“It caught me off-guard.” He lifted one shoulder in a tired shrug. “I thought I could handle it on my own. Besides, it’s not exactly a good look if you’re constantly falling apart.”
“Deeks, we all care more about your well-being than your performance at work,” she said. Deeks gave her a sad, bitter smile.
“I wish that were true. I’m lucky I got to stay this last time,” he mused.
Kensi pushed down her outrage at the revelation; Deeks needed her support now. Confronting whoever had made him hide his symptoms out of fear for his job could wait until later.
“Well, if I have any say in it, you’re not going anywhere. You just need to worry about taking care of yourself.”
“I’m not so great at that,” he murmured.
“That’s why I’m here.” Giving into impulse, Kensi brushed his bangs off his forehead. “Is there anything I can do?”
Deeks turned his head slightly, his eyes soft and vulnerable. “I’ve been having more nightmares again.” She could tell how much the admission had taken. “Could you distract me like you did last time?”
“Anything,” she agree immediately. Leaning forward, she grabbed the remote off the coffee table and switched on the TV. “The first step in a Kensi Blye distraction scheme is good garbage television. So, do you want to watch Monster-in-Law or a reruns of the original ‘Dark Shadows’?”
“Uh, second one,” Deeks decided. He pushed himself more deeply into the cushions while she flipped through channels.
“Ooh, it’s the 1890s era. The best ones in my opinion,” she commented.
“Mm, definitely.” She heard the hint of a smile in his voice.
A few minutes later, his head fell to her shoulder. She froze for a second, then when he didn’t move, she rested her cheek against soft curls brushing her skin.
#densimber 7.0#densimber 2023#ncis la fanfiction#densi#marty deeks#kensi blye#angst#season 5 era#hurt/comfort#densimber day 4#by ejzah
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Made some easy meat tomato sauce for dinner and mmmmm even though the tomato part was pre-done it was still so so good and satisfying. Look
So filling. So delicious
#ghostly posts#food#I say 'easy' but it took me like two hours because I had to clean the counter and the stove and the pan and spatula for the sauce#and then chop garlic and onions (and then realize there are no more onions) and add mini sweet peppers#and then I dug around the potato drawer (weird) and found a shallot so I chopped that up. and I did it all super fine to avoid large chunks#in the sauce cause I'm picky abt that I guess#then you gotta cook the meat most of the way and then add the veggies and cook That for a while and then add the tomato sauce and cook and#season all that and make sure you can boil some moisture out of it without burning the sauce#anyway. there were a lot of steps but I simplified it a little by using pre made tomato sauce#my favorite kind = Newman's own organic marinara. my parents used to get it a lot growing up#so it's a bit comforting#takes me back to an era where I was really young. before I got really sensitive to tomatoes like I am now#(still made and ate this sauce because it's good)
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Still crazy to me to see people saying the moffat era was terrible like its an objective fact when it is just so so beloved to me
#doctor who#11s era is magical and nostalgic#12s is more mature and relatable#the story lines are my absolute favourite#the characters are everything#the episodes are both addictive and comforting#before getting involved in fandom the words ''moffat era'' meant nothing to me- i had no idea who wrote what#but ive always loved those seasons
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early dean is just soo much fun to write like why is that baby boy
#well. early spn generally is always a lot of fun to write#with sam though i think it’s harder to explore his character in early seasons through writing bc a lot of it is already SHOWN? you know?#he was supposed to be the main character after all right#but dean got so much more attention later on in the show and idk it leaves a lot to be desired about early on#what happened in his drifter era#deancassie#dean and john dynamics while sam was gone#dean’s grapple with unrooting his brother from the comfortable life he deserves#wait maybe i should say pre series#pretend this says pre series#mar speaks
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I swear I’m a patient person (I’m not) and I trust that it’s all for buildup and is good in the long run and will make things even juicier when the payoff comes but...
I miss season 4 Buddie :(. I think I’m gonna rewatch just season 4 because they were so cute that whole time. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love me some create distance or at least absence and snap back like a rubber band with extreme emotional intimacy and depth but...I miss my domestic buddie! They were so cute! The dynamic duo!
Yeah. I think I’m gonna rewatch season 4. (contemplating whether to stop after 412 or not though)
#911fox#buddie#season 4 buddie#buddie dynamic#they were in their besties era#i just rewatched clips from the crossover#and like i know that if they got too comfortable in it they would get stuck forever bc that's how this stuff works and they need to maintain#some sort of momentum for it to be a romance ofc#and maybe i'm just missing it because it feels like there's less when it's week to week but#i'm straight up forgetting what they're like like#i know they love each other but rn it's in a balling love confession way#i miss the bromance without the b if you know what i'm saying#403 game nights and all that jazz#im i'm sure they still have that lord knows there's plenty of zoo type stuff offscreen but#i miss seeing it!#and again like i KNOW them being the drama and not just the background tea with their joint reactions is good but man oh man i miss that#LITERALLY WHERE IS THE DYNAMIC DUO#like i made another post about how it's good they're spending more time w/ people onscreen to establish people they would ultimately talk ab#out their feelings more with and even just to give rep to more dynamics more#and i love hen and buck and i love eddie with bobby#but it's like those are their besties and each other is their family#why can't it still be both!!!#anyways
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The Field Mouse
Read here on Ao3!
Whumptober 2024 - Day 24 - Alternate Prompt: Vermin
Rated: G | Words: 796 A/N: I imagine this story taking place early-mid season 1 ;-;
Hunter’s senses follow Omega as she wanders around the meadow a little distance away, humming and murmuring to herself. He and his brothers work to unpack the cargo hold and organize it, a task they’d been putting off since before the war ended. But now, with credits hard to come by, unless being undercut by a sleazy Transdoshan, it seemed high time to try and sell off anything they didn’t absolutely need.
They had come across Crosshair’s crate of armor. Hunter isn’t even sure which of them managed to get it off Kamino; however, they wordlessly set it aside in the “keep” of the clearing.
Originally, Omega had tried to help, trailing after each of them with endless questions about what she could do and where she should be. Under the circumstances, she became more of a tripping hazard than helpful. So Hunter gave her the crucial task of scouting the perimeter of their camp (which he had already thoroughly done when they arrived while she was occupied with Tech’s discourse about the planet’s atmosphere).
And as Hunter hoped, Omega’s scouting has now evolved into aimless exploration. She is safe and she is happy, which is all he truly wants for her.
Then Omega cries out, a sharp, panicked thing that drives Hunter’s blood cold.
“Omega!” he calls out, dropping the crate of parts from his arms and running in the direction he knows she is. He hears his brothers behind him, keeping pace but letting him lead.
It doesn’t take more than a minute to find her. She’s kneeling in the tall grass, little hiccuping sobs emitting from her shaking form.
“Omega?” Hunter asks, kneeling beside her. “What happened? Where are you hurt?”
Omega looks up at him, face tearstained and lower lip trembling. “I’m not hurt,” she tells him, her voice so grief stricken it breaks his heart. “The baby mouse is!”
That catches him off guard. “A baby mouse?” he asks.
Omega points to the ground in front of her, and a small, round eared creature lies there on its side, tiny chest panting rapidly.
“An animal came out and tried to catch him. I chased it away, but I think it still hurt the mouse,” Omega wails, balled fists coming up to scrub at her face. “Is he going to die?”
“Uh,” Hunter says dumbly. He can’t lie. Well…no! He can’t lie. “Yeah, kid, it's not gonna make it.”
Omega cries harder, voice warbling out, “He’s my f-friend! He was try-trying to find some seeds on the ends of the grass, and I gave him-him some and then he started following me–” A sharp intake of choked breath. “--and I didn’t protect him from that terrible thing that tried to eat–to eat him!”
Hunter looks up at his brothers, silently pleading for one of them to step in. They avert their gazes from his. Cowards.
“You did your very best, Omega,” Hunter says, reaching out and putting a hand on her back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “But things still happen. It’s not your fault.”
“He trusted me!”
“He saw you as a source of food,” Tech says.
Hunter sighs. Maybe he doesn’t want his brothers’ help after all.
“Isn’t there anything we can do for him?” Omega pleads, now lifting her eyes to all-knowing Tech specifically.
The engineer sputters out, “Well, there is, uh, not anything to do. It appears the creature will succumb to its injuries in short order.”
“If the little guy’s dying,” Wrecker says, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously, “Least he’s got his friend with ‘im so he’s not alone. Sounds like you were a good friend to the little guy.”
Omega nods and sniffs noisily, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
Hunter catches Echo making a face, but the man doesn’t say anything.
The little rodent only lasts another minute before going still. Omega sniffles, her breathing shuddering in quiet little sobs. Hunter is about to suggest they head back to the ship when Omega asks in a tiny voice, “Can we bury him?”
It isn’t how Hunter expected their quiet afternoon organizing their ship would go, standing next to the miniscule grave of a field mouse, his brothers beside him while Omega puts a bouquet of wildflowers on the mound of dirt.
“Did he have a name?” Wrecker thinks to ask.
“I hadn’t decided yet,” Omega admits.
“I think Whiskers woulda been cute,” Wrecker says.
Omega offers him a wobbly smile. “I like that.”
“Whiskers it is then,” Echo says.
A few weeks ago, Hunter would never have dreamed of taking care of a child. This morning he would never have dreamed of having a funeral for a rodent named Whiskers.
But life is full of strange surprises.
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#whumptober2024#no.24#altprompt#vermin#Star Wars: The Bad Batch#fic#pet loss#emotional whump#loss#angst#hurt/comfort#tbb hunter#tbb omega#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#tbb echo#season 1 era
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