#derek meddings
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"Stingray" by Matthew Teevan.
#matteline67#matthew teevan#derek meddings#gerry anderson#stingray#stingray 1964#submarine#supermarionation
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Remembering the great special effects pioneer Derek Meddings on his birthday. Superman (1978), Moonraker (1979), Thunderbirds Are Go (1966), Krull (1983)
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Krull (1983)
#krull#80s fantasy movies#promotional stills#peter yates#ken marshall#lysette anthony#prince colwyn#the glaive#derek meddings#special effects#80s movies#1980s#1983
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Derek Meddings concept art for the TV show UFO
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*comes back from Real Life™️ to thrust this at people if you’ve not seen it yet*
#pyre talks#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#fandom#thunderbird two#tb2#tb2 schematics#eeeeeeh#concept drawings#Derek Meddings
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Z.P.G. | 1972
#Z.P.G.#Michael Campus#Derek Meddings#dystopia#post apocalyptic#robot#cyborg#dog#70s horror#70s scifi#creepy#scifi#Christmas#Santa Claus#Santa#Hammersmith Horror
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UFO (TV) Concept Art by Derek Meddings
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REview: UFO: S01, E4 - Reflections in the Water
UFO was Gerry Anderson’s first live action television series (he typically worked with puppets, creating shows like Stingray, Terrahawks, Thunderbirds, and others).
The series revealed around S.H.A.D.O (Supreme Headquarters Alien Defense Organisation) and its mission to protect the Earth from alien invaders.
It’s a show I enjoyed growing up, particular due to the remarkable theme and incidental…
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#Barry Stokes#Derek Meddings#Gerry Anderson#Reflections in the Water#S.H.A.D.O#SkyDiver#Space: 1999#Stingray#Terrahawks#Thunderbirds#UFO
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Z.P.G. (Michael Campus, 1972).
#z.p.g.#z.p.g. (1972)#michael campus#frank de felitta#michael reed#dennis lanning#anthony masters#derek meddings
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https://archive.org/details/mpc-1975-catalog/page/n1/mode/2up
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MONIQUE!! LET’S CONTINUE THE BAD BOY!DEREK ERA
I'M LOST- him telling you he loves you for the first time (when you never expected him to even say it)
Derek wasn't sure if the happy smile on your face was because of him or because of the brown paper bag and ice cream cup in his hand but he was happy seeing it either way. When you'd called to cancel your dinner date because of your period you didn't know how he'd take it, which was silly to be fair because he'd been nothing but a perfect gentleman, taking every chance to remind you how grateful he was that you'd given him a chance. You were just grateful to see this side of him, you'd seen good behind that tough shell and it was so exciting seeing the good taking over.
"Baby," you crooned, making grabby hands in his direction, not doing much to ease his confusion but he quickened his pace still, didn't want to keep you waiting. "You came all the way here," you pouted and when you took his face in your hands instead of the ice cream his insides went wild. You kissed his lips quickly and when you took note of the Oreo McFlurry in his right hand you kissed the tip of his nose as well, tightening your hold around his cheeks. "And you brought me snacks too, you're the best."
"Hardly," he argued and he wouldn't dare be embarrassed by the way his cheeks tinted red and heated up right under your touch, stealing a kiss of his own before you let go of him, careful when he placed everything on the bed next to you, even more careful when you pulled him down to sit in front of you, eyes all dreamy to perfectly match yours. "I also put some pain meds in the bag, the lady at the drugstore said it works for periods but I got a backup just in case, called your friend Lydia and she told me what worked for her so I got that just to be safe," you were already two bites into your McFlurry so you couldn't reply immediately so you hoped reaching out to take his hand was enough to begin with.
"You didn't need to do all of that, Der, I just called so you wouldn't worry," his hand around yours felt like heaven, comfort you craved for more than you realized, you were torn between finishing the food he brought you and taking a nap in his arms- you wished there was a way to do both. "Thank you," you added, he was being so sweet, you wanted him to know how much it meant to you. "No one has ever done something like this to me."
"Well, that just means no one has loved you as much as I love you," he said it so casually, like a thought he'd had before had somehow made its way out, but he didn't even react to it, didn't even notice, just stole one of your fries and offered closed mouth smile while he brushed a cookie crumb from your chin.
"I think you're right," you admitted and offered him a spoon scooped high, and when you leaned forward to dip it into his mouth your heart soared. "In fact, I think that I love you just enough to share the rest of my cup with you," you hoped it sounded as casual from your lips as it did from his.
#got carried away bestie sorry#the idea of big bad derek hale stopping at the drug store with his helmet in hand asking for period pain meds is such a sight#derek hale#derek hale x reader#badboy!derek hale#teen wolf dialogues#monique's dialogue days#dear alice dialogue event
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🧽 Receiving a sponge bath - Derek
tw: post-prison whump, spongebath, light med whump
notes: read chapter one of derek's back first for context, if context is important to ya :)
from this ask game
✥ ✥ ✥
Derek Lewis, or what's left of him, anyway, sits on the center of the exam table. His legs dangle over the side, his hands limp in his lap. Looking at him, one might think he was completely absent of thought, absent of the ability to process any of the events of the last few hours. Something in the way he hunches his body, though, just a little bit, or in the way his black eyes, every so often, wander from the floor to the mahogany desk in the corner, to the large canvas paintings, to the American flag hung by the door, and then back to the floor, give Agent Brody Grant hope that, at least on some level, he’s aware that his circumstances have shifted.
He’s been stripped of his clothing, or, if not clothing, of the torn, ratted fabric that was constituting as clothing, which has been placed in a bin to be tested for parasites. So far, he hasn’t spoken.
When they arrived to the makeshift medical unit, pieced together on one hour’s notice in the middle of the night in the Consulate, he didn't speak. He also didn’t speak when he was led down the empty, dark hallway, or when his clothes were removed, or when every inch of his battered skin was photographed.
Now, with a nurse at his side, running a wet cloth over his body again and again, seven, eight, sometimes ten times before satisfied with each patch of skin, he still doesn’t speak.
“Mr. Lewis?” the physician asks, approaching Derek cautiously. Derek’s head lifts in acknowledgement, but his eyes do not.
“You need to drink,” she urges. She lifts his free hand and places a mug of water inside of it, then guides him to take a sip. He does not fight it, but immediately coughs the water back up. The doctor's lips are tight, but she sets the mug to the side.
The boy that Agent Grant collected from within the prison gates was unrecognizable from the pictures in his file. The ghost of the smiling, vibrant boy he had not expected, but hoped for, was deposited at his feet without a moment of hesitation. The guard inclined his head sharply toward the gate, handed the agent a well-loved backpack, and turned on his heels back toward the prison. They hightailed it down the gravel road and into the night, with a singular objective of getting Derek Lewis onto U.S. territory while they worked to understand the implications of everything that had gone down.
The nurse lifts his hand now, turning it over, and works to wipe away months of caked-on filth.
“When did you last access a shower?” he asks, his thumb brushing over Derek’s wrist, presumably to get a handle on what is bruising and what isn’t.
“I don’t know,” Derek whispers. Agent Grant writes it down. It’s not of particular interest, but he’s been tasked with writing down everything, and so far that has been nothing, so he takes what he can get.
“That’s okay,” the nurse tells him, dipping the washcloth in the clean water, wringing it out, and wiping away what can be wiped away. “What about food?” he asks next. No one is under any illusion that Derek wants to talk, but getting him comfortable answering questions may be in his best interest. “When was the last time you ate?”
This time, Derek does not look up. “I don’t know,” he whispers again.
“Are you hungry?” the nurse asks, as the doctor tilts Derek’s head down. Gloved fingers press into dark, matted waves, and Derek’s body curls in on itself, just for a second, before he realizes what’s happened and forcibly adjusts his posture.
“It’s okay,” the nurse whispers, moving to his other hand.
Derek nods, and they finish cleaning him up in silence. His hair is shaved, because it’s the only reasonable way to deal with both the matting and the lice. He’s photographed again, now clean, which he flinches his way through but does not protest. This time, the focus is solely on the injuries. On the scars that run the length of his back, on his wrists and ankles, on his neck. There won't be an investigation, nor will there be restitution, but it may help someone in the future to have these, so they take them. Derek is silent through it, but his suffering, well hidden just an hour ago, is clearer now.
He’s given an IV, because every time he drinks, he vomits. He’s given pain medication, he’s given anxiety medication, and finally, to everyone’s relief, he is given clothing.
He dresses quietly, but he trembles he does, and when he’s led to a cot in the adjacent room, he whispers a hoarse, “Thank you,” before collapsing into it. He’s asleep before he can be offered a blanket, so one is draped over him, and the doctor explains to Agent Grant that between the shock, the medication, and the clear sleep deprivation, it’s neither surprising nor alarming that he sleeps now.
By the time Derek Lewis’s family is called, it’s mid-morning. The Ambassador has arrived, and there’s an air of both celebration and frenzy within the Consulate. This has been something of a win for many of them, and a long-overdue one at that.
And, while it feels like a major piece of Agent Grant's time with the embassy is coming to a close, he can’t help but wonder what the next chapter looks like for Derek. There's no doubt in his mind that Jack will be on the first plane to Turkey, visa be damned, and the thought of their reunion, however tense, however painful it may be, gives him some hope that maybe, against all odds, Derek will find peace.
#look two asks in two days#derek's back#prison whump#post prison whump#med whump#sponge bath#i cannot actually do an ask every day probably BECAUSE#they are like 95% prompts#but we're 2/2 for the last two days!
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Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons (1967)
#captain scarlet and the mysterons#60s tv series#60s sci-fi#supermarionation#gerry anderson#sylvia anderson#derek meddings#british sci fi#puppets#sixties#1967
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
❝ Some stories may be 18+ as they contain smut and/or detailed descriptions of content that may be upsetting, so if you’re underage and see a mark next to a story please do not read. I’ll always try to carefully highlight the warnings before each fic but it can happen I forget some of them, in that case feel free to notify me with an ask. ❞
➪ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐉𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
• ℭ𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔤𝔬 𝔓𝔇
☾ 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝
☾ 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐮𝐳𝐞𝐤
• ℭ𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔤𝔬 𝔐𝔢𝔡
☾ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬
☾ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝
• ℭ𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔰
☾ 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧
☾ 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝
☾ 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
• 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔞 𝔒𝔫𝔢
☾ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
☾ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬
#masterlist#jay halstead#adam ruzek#kevin atwater#connor rhodes#will halstead#spencer reid#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#y/n#reader#female reader#chicago med#chicago pd#criminal minds#charles leclerc#lando norris#formula one#f1#c16#ln4#oneshot#imagine#fanfic#fanfiction#x y/n#reader insert
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i think we as a society moved on from derek danforth too fast
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The interactions between hotch and his brother are so cute and funny
I need more please
Maybe more dramatic reader being high on medicine after getting hurt on a mission
Warnings: injury, let me know if I've missed anything
Word count: 242
“This is it,” You say with a groan, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls.
“What?”
“This is it,” You said, “This is death.”
“This is not death.” Aaron huffed.
“How do you know? You’re not a doctor.” You chimed, Aaron rolled his eyes.
“You’ve literally just broke your leg,”
“Then why am I floating?”
“You’re not floating,” Aaron rubbed his hand over his face.
"They're trying to take my soul!" You exclaim, looking at Aaron with a panicked look on your face.
"(Y/N), I need you to listen to me," Aaron said sternly, "You're okay, I promise you that you are okay. Your leg is broken, but you're okay."
"Oh god, I'm going to lose a leg," You realise, leaning forward to look at it, "It was nice while it lasted. I'll see you on the other side."
Aaron groaned, turning to Morgan, "Morgan, you come and deal with him, he's driving me insane."
Morgan gave a laugh as you gasped, "How dare you!"
"Hey, (Y/N)," Morgan chimed.
You gave a grin, "Hi,"
"Heard you were worried, what about?"
"Feel like I'm floating," You replied.
Morgan nodded, climbing on the stretcher behind you, gently pulling you into his embrace, your back against his chest. "You're okay, your leg's broken but you're okay,"
You nodded, relaxing in his arms. Aaron scoffed, throwing his arms in the air, "That's what I said!" Spencer and Emily gave a snort.
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#david rossi#emily prentiss#y/n hotchner#asks#jennifer jareau#injury#broken bones#pain meds#derek morgan x male reader#derek morgan x reader
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