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jungle-angel · 7 months

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A Journey In The Desert (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You, Bob, The Daggers and your kids get to experience a journey unlike any other

Warnings: Some biblical and religious references

You and Bob were excited beyond words that you had gotten the travel opportunities that you had. Everyone was having the time of their lives, most of all Bob who had gotten the opportunity to unleash his inner Indiana Jones.

"Daddy, can I feed him?" Auggie said, looking at the rather friendly camel who was already laden with the beautifully woven saddle blankets and saddles to match.

"Wait for Youssef to come back and we'll ask," Bob told him.

"Ah let him Bob," Youssef said, coming back with a bucket full of grasses, grain and oats for the funny looking beasts. "Fatima and I let the kids do it all the time."

Bob let Auggie go with Youssef to feed the camels while you and him watched the others and how they interacted with them. It seemed as though the entire herd had taken to the Daggers, save for Jake who hadn't a single clue about what to do with them.

"You think she likes you Phoenix?" Bob asked, noticing Natasha.

"Well, she tried eating my hair an hour ago so I'd say that's a promising sign," she chuckled.

You and Bob laughed when you noticed Mickey and another member of the camp moving their hands back and forth, the camel moving his head and neck with their motions.

"I wanna take him home so bad dude," Mickey remarked.

"Well, unfortunately we can't," Bob told him. "I don't think TSA would want us bringing an entire camel herd back to the states."

"Yeah plus the fleas," Rooster added, brushing a bug off the camel that one of the guides had affectionately referred to as "Old Fart".

It was barely a half hour before the head guide had to tell everyone to cut the shenanigans and saddle in to begin the trek. Youssef's wife, Fatima, helped tie the baby wrap that kept Deidre strapped to your back, tightening it enough so that she would stay put.

"Here," she said, placing Deidre's little pink Red Sox hat on her head. "Keep that on her head. I don't want her to burn once we're out of the shade."

"Thank you Fatima," you told her. "Are you going ahead?"

"I'll be in the back with Youssef," she answered. "Gotta go wrangle the brats first."

You laughed a little as she disappeared. You looked around as Bob saddled in with great ease, his dark brown Stetson cowboy hat on his head and his khaki shirt and jeans covered in dustings of red dirt from the desert. He fixed his gaze on you, smiling as he gave you a cheeky little wink which made you blush, filling your cheeks with heat.

Bob was the first one up and then you after you had given your camel the command to do so. The bellowing of the animals filled the camp as they rose up from the ground, jerking their riders back a little and then forward.

"Woah, slow down there big guy," Coyote laughed as he jerked forward and back a little in his saddle.

Phoenix, ever the lady, kept herself straight, fixing the loose, charcoal colored scarf on her already sunburned scalp once her camel had stood up. A loud yelp next to her had caught her attention, turning her gaze to Jake who grimmaced as he grabbed at a rather sensitive area between his legs.

"S'matter Bagman?" she chuckled. "Ever been in the saddle of a camel before?"

"No," he squeaked.

Natasha snorted a little.

"Horses," Jake squeaked again. "Why couldn't we have taken horses? They're at least easier to get on."

"Hangman we've got almost a twelve mile journey ahead of us in the middle of a scorching desert," Rooster explained. "I don't know if a horse would make it that far."

"You'd be surprised!" Youssef called from a bit further back.

Jake rubbed his rather sensitive junk to get some of the feeling back in, ignoring Coyote and Payback's snickering.

Penny wiped some of the dust from her face when she noticed the smile on Maverick's face, his eyes hidden behind his aviators.

"Don't gimme that look Pete," she told him.

"It's the only look I've got sweetheart," he said.

He took Penny's hand, kissing her close to where her wedding band was, engraved on the inside with their names. "Ready my lady?" he joked.

"As ever," Penny told him.

The caravan began moving forward, out of the sheltering shade of the red rock cliffs and into the open desert. The sun scorched land held a beauty of its own, the swirling sands twisting and coiling into dunes like orange snakes while close by, the dried up wadis lay cracked and sticky where water had once flown.

Hot winds blew across their path with clouds of dust flying into the air, yet the herd still kept going. You and Bob walked side by side with Auggie hanging fast to him and Patrick safely being held by his Uncle Rooster. Over the dunes and far away you had all gone, never once losing sight of one another and sticking as close together as possible.

The afternoon had begun to turn to evening when at last they had crossed one of the rivers, wading up to their knees in the cool water. "Wish we could stop for a swim," you said to Bob.

"We've gotta keep going (y/n)," Bob said. "The guides said we've gotta make it there by nightfall so we can set up camp."

The caravan pressed on into the sandy nothingness as the afternoon turned to early evening, the sun showing obvious signs of waning soon. "Look Daddy! Look!" Auggie chirped. "It's the cliffs from Indiana Jones!"

You nearly gasped when you saw the canyons coming into view, looming like a huge, red gate that guarded a place that you and Bob had only ever dreamed about. The further you went, the more you could feel that there was something else here altogether, something ancient and old, older than you could ever hope to comprehend. Your mind had begun to fill with images of the ancient days when trading caravans had come through here, when rivers of gold had flown through the deserts and stories of kings that could have only been found in the pages of The Bible. You had even begun to wonder if these too had been the very same roads that Jesus, his disciples and his family had traveled when they preached in the desert or if it had popped straight off the pages of The Arabian Nights.

Your jaws dropped when at last you saw it, that familiar structure you had first seen in Indiana Jones. Petra loomed high in the desert canyon, carved into the cliff face and standing tall and proud against the burning sunset. It was so beautiful and eerie to look at, a place with legends as old as time.

Everyone set up camp and made themselves comfortable for the night while you had made Auggie, Patrick and Deidre's beds. Everyone else had their own tents and could do as they would, but soon, you knew it would be bedtime for your three little ghouls.

Dinner smelled amazing as it cooked with chicken and lamb being cooked at least a hundred different ways in big pits while big pots of rice simmered over the open fires. All the smells, the herby and the smoky, the savory and the spicy, made everyone hungrier than they had realized. Auggie had practically eaten his weight in the chicken and saffron rice before he wanted to go back to the tent. Once they had settled into their little bed mats, Bob pulled a book from his pack and had begun to read them a story.

"And so it was, that Sinbad the Sailor had returned home to his family, retelling his adventures for his wives, his children, his children's children and their children too and soon the world would know the great things he had done," Bob read, finishing the tale of the wily sailor and his adventures.

Auggie, Patrick and Deidre were all fast asleep when Bob finally tucked them in, letting them snore away. "Bob," you whispered, poking your head into the tent. "Bob you've gotta see this."

Bob hurried out with you into the chilly night when he gasped at the magnificent sight before him. The flickerings of hundreds of tiny candles and lamps lit up the night. Somewhere, you could both hear voices of people singing, drums and ouds being played, the words so otherworldly and beautiful that you didn't care if you could understand them or not.

You and Bob joined the others as one of the people in the camps had given everyone one or two tiny little votives to light. On each one had been scrawled a name, each a loved one for the Daggers. Maverick of course had one for Goose while Rooster placed another one for both his father and mother in the red dust. Mickey lit one for his uncle, Diego, hoping that it would light the way for his journey to the states. Natasha lit one for her Grandpa Earl, hoping too that he would be able to get back on his feet after having been sick for so long. Jake tried to hide his tears when he placed one close by for Grammy Seresin, his father's grandmother who he had been particularly close with until she had passed at the age of a hundred and one. Coyote placed his for his brother, a police officer for the city of New Orleans and another for a family member who was trying to leave Brazil for the states. Payback's was the next, lighting his for his Aunt Nina who still lived in The Bahamas, hoping that no matter how far from home they were, that they would always be able to hear from each other.

You and Bob were the last, one for his parents and one for his Meemaw and Papa. In the quiet peace of the desert, you two had grown closer than ever, your bond unbreakable and your love for each other burning like the sun.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #reuben payback fitch #penny benjamin mitchell #penny x maverick #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

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magnet-magnett · 1 month

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One of Farrukh's many partners.

He's having a love affair with a priest. Farrukh calls him "Father" because he thinks it's funny. His name is Abraham and he's a well spoken middle aged man who's internalized homophobia has always been like a noose around his neck. He keeps a journal where he expresses his negative emotions and sinful thoughts, and he never lets anyone take a look at his journal as he's ashamed of most of the things he writes in there. He isn't harsh towards other queer people and doesn't condemn them (he has queer friends and family), he only punishes himself for being a homosexual and isn't out to anyone except five people. He's also a bit awkward and neglects his health from time to time. He also has a terrible sleep schedule. He doesn't joke around much but so he catches people off guard when he does.

He tries to be kind to everyone, rarely gets overtly angry and has enough self awareness to not express his questionable beliefs. He justifies dating Farrukh as not being homosexual as Farrukh isn't a "real man" (im not gay, my boyfriend has a fat pussy ☝️🤓) but he feels guilty and disgusted over thinking this. He loves Farrukh deeply but is too scared to express his love publicly and avoids him at times.

He does recognize his flaws and tries to be better for his community and for Farrukh. Yet a lifetime of indoctrination cannot be completely undone. Farrukh occasionally stalks him from afar and tries to get his attention at the church because he doesn't get to spend as much time with Abraham as he wants. He usually meets Abraham at night and they both kiss and hold hands and don't do anything NSFW ever I swear! Farrukh sometimes slips gifts into his bag like a cat bringing in objects for you it finds outside. His church is also filled with queer nuns although they suspect the other to be homophobic so the tensions are high 😭😭. Alot of them became chose this life to avoid being pressured or forced into being married (same reason for Abraham)

The only other person who knew much of their affair was Fatima (the short messy haired person with the mustard colored shirt). Fatima is a good ol atheist and debates Abraham's beliefs every now and then. Xe wants to help him live a life not dictated by religion (xe is especially keen on helping him because xe has also grown up experiencing religious trauma). Xe also enjoys his company and discussing film, music and poetry with him (Fatima is a nerd). Fatima also confides in him after xyr breakup with Farrukh.

He has a younger sister named Naomi (13 years younger 💀) who is openly a lesbian who was in the closet herself for a long time but came out to the family one Christmas and got disowned 💀💀. Abraham is supportive of her and doesn't want her to feel the shame he feels. They don't talk much, they never really had a strong bond to begin with but they check on each other when they get the time.

Sketch of Naomi and Abraham

They both hate their parents because they recognize how they've been traumatized by them. I'm also reading and watching videos on queer people's experiences with Christianity (religious trauma) and how parents play such a big part in the alienation of their queer children. Honestly I'm doing way too much research for a dumbass oc but it's so fun.

#artists on tumblr #oc lore #my ocs #queer artist #queer artwork #oc artwork #art #artwork #digital art

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gryffindormischief · 2 years

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Hey if you are still looking for requests for Hinny fluff can you please write something about Harry being hit on by muggles and him being confused because he is not “the chosen one” in the muggle world, and Ginny having to explain that he is good looking?

A/N: idk what even happened to this lol xD I hope it brings a laugh or two.

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"That looks amazing on you.”

Harry startles and turns, putting an end to his examination of his own reflection. “I - thanks.”

Refocusing, Harry fumbles for the tag. It’s a bit too pricey, honestly. He just saw it on the mannequin in the window and Harry nearly mistook it for Sirius. It feels childish, really, to impulse buy a coat because it reminds him of his godfather.

Then again he does need -

“Especially with your styling.”

His fan club has grown - two women linger just off to the side, watching. All Harry can think is this is one of those fancy shops where salespeople earn commissions.

“I’m not quite sure but - ”

“Well you should be,” the dark haired woman steps closer and brushes her hand over his shoulders, “It fits like a glove.”

Harry stiffens and sidesteps away, pulling the jacket off and reclaiming his own. “What’s your return policy?”

“Return - ” shoulder toucher shoots a glance toward her friend, “Oh well we actually don’t work here.”

Harry pauses his retelling and ruffles his hair.

“So then what happened?” Ginny prompts.

“They asked me to dinner!” Harry yelps, earning a couple of odd glances from patrons nearby.

Dinner arrives and Harry barely registers any of it until his napkin-bundled silverware nudges his hand. “It actually is dinner time Potter.”

Harry glances up at Ginny, who’s currently buttering a roll, apparently without a care in the world. “Why are you - ”

“Did you buy the jacket?” Ginny asks, eyes rolling back a bit when she bites into her roll. “You won’t like these - I’ll go ahead and eat them. Spare you.”

“You aren’t - ”

“Surprised? Upset?”

He grabs a roll and breaks off a piece, the scent of baked cheddar tickling his nostrils. “Well. Yeah. I was,” a pause while he chews - the roll and the thought, “it was a muggle shop!”

Ginny finally does look surprised and perhaps a bit upset, pausing halfway through her second roll to stare across the dimly lit table. “Are you - ” she blinks slowly, “You’re not fucking with me?”

“Well - ”

“Don’t say ‘not currently’ and wriggle your eyebrows.”

Harry pouts.

“Do you not know you’re fit?” Ginny finally asks after a few false starts.

“I’m alright - less scrawny than I was at Hogwarts,” Harry shrugs, sipping his cider.

“No I mean you’re fit Harry,” Ginny says with a shake of her head, “Like brooding rockstar throw you my knickers fit - you get knickers owled to you!”

“Maybe don’t shout that in a muggle pub, dear,” Harry laughs, “But really that’s my point. Those women didn’t know I’m The Boy Who Lived. I get knickers because of my reputation.”

The waiter chooses that beautifully perfect moment to check in about the status of their entrees and Harry barely manages to carry on the back and forth. It’s essentially a one man conversation as Ginny has dissolved into giggles and poor Henry is blushing head to toe.

Once he departs with promises of imminent food delivery and a refresher on their drinks and Ginny’s tears let up enough for her to dab them away, she pins him with a long look. “Harry, Boy Who Lived or no, you are an absolute treat for the eyes.”

“I’m a treat?” Harry smirks.

“Delicious,” Ginny nods with an answering grin.

“Yummy?”

“I could eat you up,” Ginny confirms with an exaggerated wink.

“Am I lickable?”

A choking sound followed by the clattering of some dinnerware comes from somewhere over Harry’s shoulder and he turns to find Henry covered in what appears to luckily be two fresh ciders as opposed to a roast chicken and accompanying sides.

When said meal does appear, a nervous busboy does the honors, and later the expected bill is brought by Fatima, who apologizes for Henry’s abrupt ‘personal emergency’ and subsequent departure before the close of their dinner.

#blarg writes things #hinny #hinny fic #harry x ginny #blarg writes hinny

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talesofmetamorphosis · 6 months

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Craving Simplicity [IQ Drain/ABDL]

The morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains of Elise's simply furnished living room, casting a gentle glow on the carpeted floor. Sitting upright on a comfortable armchair, Elise focused intently on Clara, her caretaker for the morning, as she began the verbal cognitive test.

"Elise," Clara began with a clear, measured voice, "What is the capital of France?"

"Paris," Elise responded without hesitation.

"Can you spell 'elephant' for me?"

"E-L-E-P-H-A-N-T," she replied confidently.

The test continued in this manner, and Elise's answers flowed effortlessly, painting a picture of a sharp and educated mind. Every question Clara posed, Elise answered correctly. This was the beginning, the baseline from which her chosen journey would commence.

As the final question concluded, and Clara noted down Elise's perfect score, one couldn't help but wonder: How did someone come to such a decision?

The story began several months ago when Elise's life took an unexpected turn. Winning the lottery was a shock to her system. Suddenly, she found herself unburdened by financial constraints, yet the weight of societal expectations seemed heavier than ever. She longed for a simpler life, free from the complexities, decisions, and burdens of intelligence.

The idea began as a fleeting thought, but it consumed her over time. She researched extensively and found that her goal was likely possible, to shed the layers of her intellectual capabilities. The decision was made. She would embark on a journey to mentally simplify herself, completely escaping the intricacies of life.

Elise's home had been bought as a reflection of her desire. Simplicity ruled every corner — from the basic furniture to the muted colors. Spaces were designed to be safe, easy to clean, and accommodating for her eventual decline.

The task of finding the right team to guide her through this transformation was meticulous. She needed professionals who would respect her decision, support her through the process, and ensure her safety. Enter Clara, Naomi, Giselle, and Fatima, each accomplished caregivers and willing to deal with her strange request.

As the cognitive test concluded, Clara smoothly transitioned to the next task on her list. "Elise," she began gently, "May I check your diaper?"

Elise nodded, a soft smile on her lips. "I'm clean," she assured. But there was no hesitation in her posture as she shifted slightly to allow Clara easier access. Both of them knew this routine was more about the future than the present. As Elise's journey progressed, there would, hopefully, come a time when her self-awareness would diminish. Establishing these habits early ensured an ideally seamless transition.

With a practiced hand, Clara swiftly verified Elise's claim. "All good," she affirmed with a nod.

As Clara moved to the kitchen to prepare lunch, the sounds of pots and pans clinking echoed lightly. While Elise was perfectly capable of feeding herself at this point, minimizing her responsibilities was integral to the process they had embarked upon. Every day, bit by bit, Elise's once fiercely independent life was being simplified. And while outsiders might find it puzzling, for Elise, it felt like a logical path to tranquility and peace, giving up logic.

The smell of a warm, freshly prepared meal wafted through the house. Elise sat down, picking up her fork and beginning to eat. Clara sat adjacent, keeping a watchful but discreet eye on her, ensuring she ate safely, even though Elise was more than capable of handling the meal independently, the ‘for now’ hung in the air.

Once her plate was empty and the table cleared, the two made their way back into the living room. Clara grabbed the remote and turned on the television. The screen flickered to life, revealing bright, animated images paired with upbeat music. It was a children's show, the kind designed to capture young minds with its colorful animations and repetitive, simple narratives.

Elise's surroundings were carefully curated to foster her decision. The TV had been specifically modified to only broadcast children's programming. While such content might seem juvenile to someone of Elise's cognitive ability, the aim was to limit her exposure to mentally stimulating material.

She sat, looking at the screen with a concentration that was almost endearing. Her bright eyes followed the animated characters as they went about their adventures. The depth of her intellect meant that she couldn't immerse herself in it, but trying to was a necessity — the simplicity didn't challenge her mind, which was precisely the point.

After a while, Clara glanced at the clock, noting the approaching appointment with the hypnotist. Turning to Elise, she softly inquired, "Elise, do you need a diaper change before the hypnotist arrives?"

Elise paused for a moment before nodding. "Yes," she said.. "I’m wet." Though Elise still maintained full control over her continence, she had chosen to utilize her diapers completely, embracing each aspect of her journey towards simplicity. Her admission was calm and without embarrassment, an acceptance of the path she had chosen.

Guiding Elise gently by the arm, Clara led her to her bedroom. The space, filled with soft hues and functional furnishings, reflected the practicality required for their daily routines. Once in the room, Clara assisted Elise onto the changing table, moving with practiced care. The process was conducted clinically and professionally, ensuring her charge was perfectly clean before putting a fresh diaper onto her.

Once Elise was fresh and clean, they headed back to the living room to await the hypnotist, the most essential part of Elise’s descent.

A rhythmic knock on the door interrupted the TV. Clara turned it off before quickly moving to answer it. Standing outside was Dr. Naomi Lavelle, her striking green eyes taking in the interior of the house with a practiced glance. She gave Clara a nod of acknowledgment, her sleek bob reflecting the soft glow of the living room lights.

"Dr. Lavelle," Clara greeted, offering a respectful smile, "Please, come in."

"Thank you, Clara," the doctor responded smoothly, stepping into the home. She immediately caught sight of Elise, who had risen from her seat in anticipation of the doctor's arrival.

The two women exchanged pleasantries briefly, the air filled with an underlying sense of purpose. Clara then turned to Elise, her voice gentle, "Do you need anything before I leave?"

Elise pondered for a moment, then shook her head. "No, thank you, Clara. I'm ready."

Clara gave a reassuring nod, her gaze lingering on Elise for a second longer than necessary, betraying her concern for her charge’s wellbeing in subtly disagreeing with her choice. "Alright then, I'll see you later, Elise. Dr. Lavelle, please let me know if you need anything." With that, Clara quietly left the room.

Dr. Lavelle moved gracefully towards Elise, gesturing for her to take a seat on the comfortable armchair. As Elise settled in, the doctor began her preparation, retrieving a small pendulum from her satchel. "Are you ready, Elise?" she asked, her voice carefully practiced to possess a mellifluous quality, designed to soothe and calm. Elise nodded, her gaze locked onto Dr. Lavelle's.

The doctor began her induction, her voice dropping an octave, filling the room with a deep resonance. The pendulum began its hypnotic swing, and Dr. Lavelle wove a tapestry of words and imagery, guiding Elise deeper into a trance state. Minutes flowed like seconds, and soon, Elise's breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she entered a profound hypnotic state.

Dr. Lavelle's voice was soft yet guiding, her tone sure and steady as she began:

"Elise, imagine yourself in a big, colorful balloon. This balloon is taking you to a place where everything is easy, like floating on a cloud.

Up here, the world is simpler, brighter, and full of joy. Feel how light you are, how free you are from all the knotted strings and heavy weights.

Now, think about all the big, complicated things that used to take up so much space in your head. Imagine them like heavy books in a backpack.

Each time you think of something difficult, that book goes into your backpack, making it heavier and heavier.

But up here, in your balloon, you don't need those heavy books.

You can let them go. Just drop them, one by one, and watch as they fall away, getting smaller and smaller until they disappear.

Feel how much lighter you become with each one you let go.

Your caretakers, they're here to help.

They're like gentle breezes guiding your balloon, making sure you're safe, making sure you float easy.

When they talk to you or ask you things, don't think too hard about it.

Responding with easy, light answers is like letting a bit of air out of the balloon – simple, freeing. And if sometimes you don't know the answer, that's okay too. They'll help you, and you'll float on.

With each passing day, your balloon will rise higher, away from the world of heavy books and complicated things.

Instead, you'll float among the clouds, where everything is soft and easy, where the sun is always shining and the air is always light.

Remember this place, Elise. Whenever you feel yourself getting tangled in difficult thoughts, come back to your balloon.

Let the heavy things fall away, and embrace the joy of floating easy. Because in this place, simple is good, and easy is best."

Dr. Lavelle let her words hang in the air, allowing Elise to fully absorb the message, and to begin embracing the simplicity and ease that lay ahead. Elise blinked slowly, her eyelids feeling heavy as the session with Dr. Lavelle came to an end. There was a lightness in her head, almost as if the thick fog outside had seeped in, making everything feel distant and dreamy. She tried to recall the specifics of the session but found it challenging to piece together the words that were spoken, like trying to catch smoke with her fingers, she didn’t even realize Dr. Lavelle had left.

She noticed the door open, and Naomi walked in, her soft features illuminated by the evening light. "Hey there," Naomi greeted gently, her voice kind. "Let's see if you need a change, shall we?" Without waiting for a verbal response, Naomi gently patted the front of Elise's diaper. It was wet, but not overly so. "I think we can wait a bit longer, after dinner maybe," she commented, more to herself than to Elise.

Naomi headed to the kitchen, and soon, the delicious aroma of something cooking wafted through the air. The sounds and scents felt comforting to Elise, adding to the gentle cocoon the hypnosis had wrapped around her.

Once dinner was ready, Naomi helped Elise to the dining table. The meal was simple but tasty, and even though Elise was quite capable of feeding herself, Naomi stayed close, watching her with attentive eyes, as was her job.

After dinner, they moved to the living room. The TV sprung to life, its screen filled with vibrant colors and cheerful characters from a children's show. Elise, in her foggy state, found herself more captivated, or perhaps just more distracted from her haze, than usual by the simplistic storylines and exaggerated expressions of the characters. Each scene felt new, and each character's emotion seemed to pop.

As the show progressed, Elise felt a familiar pressure in her lower abdomen. Not wanting to break her focus on the television, she let herself relax, releasing her bowels into the diaper without hesitation. Once done, she turned to Naomi, "I pooped," she stated matter-of-factly, her voice devoid of embarrassment.

Naomi nodded, turning off the TV. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed." With practiced ease, Naomi helped Elise into her room, gently changing her and making sure she was comfortable.

Tucked into her crib-like bed, Elise felt the last remnants of the day's fog start to lift. The world around her began to come into sharper focus, but there was still a softness to it, a gentle buffer that separated her from the complexities and intricacies of the world.

With Naomi's soft goodnight, Elise closed her eyes, allowing sleep to claim her, no concern for what the next day would bring.

Over the next month, Elise's life fell into a sort of routine. The days were punctuated by her bi-weekly hypnosis sessions with Dr. Lavelle, whose words seemed to create a gentle ripple in Elise's consciousness. The effects of the hypnosis weren't immediately striking or drastic; in fact, the changes were so subtle that only someone paying very close attention would notice.

One day, while Clara was on duty, she observed Elise trying to tie her shoelaces. The process seemed to take just a touch longer than before. Elise would look at the laces, her brow furrowing in concentration, before successfully tying them.

"Need some help there?" Clara inquired, her voice neutral, avoiding any undertones of condescension.

"No, I've got it," Elise replied, her tone slightly distracted. After a few more seconds than usual, she finally secured the knots.

During breakfast one morning with Naomi, Elise paused longer between bites, her eyes occasionally drifting into the distance as though she was gathering her thoughts or trying to grasp onto a fleeting memory.

On another occasion, Giselle asked Elise a question about a book she was reading a week ago. "Do you remember that character's name from the story?" she inquired. Elise's face scrunched up in thought, and it took her a few moments before she hesitantly responded, "Uh, was it... Emily?"

Fatima noticed that during their evening strolls in the garden, Elise's responses to her casual questions or observations about the flowers and trees seemed to have an added pause, as if she was taking an extra moment to process the information.

Yet, these instances were few and far between, like blips on a radar. The majority of the time, Elise still functioned very much like her old self, albeit with a slightly slower pace in thought and action.

None of the caretakers treated her any differently. They interacted with her as they would with any other adult who needed a bit of assistance or had specific care requirements. Conversations remained mature, though they might occasionally require a bit more patience.

As the month drew to a close, it was clear that the hypnosis was having its intended effect, but it was also evident that this was just the beginning of Elise's journey.

As the calendar pages turned, heralding the arrival of the second month, subtle shifts in Elise’s behavior and cognition began to blossom into more noticeable changes. The house was quiet on a particular morning as Clara prepared to administer the routine cognitive test. Elise sat across from her, a blank expression on her face, waiting.

"Okay, Elise," Clara began, her tone clinical yet gentle. "Can you name the objects in this picture?" She presented a series of simple images to Elise - a ball, a tree, a cat.

Elise's eyes flickered across the images. "Ball," she said without hesitation, but as her eyes moved to the next image, there was a perceptible pause, "Tree," and then another slight hesitation, "Cat." Her answers were correct, but the sluggishness of her responses was slightly more pronounced.

In the evenings, when the television flickered with the colors and shapes of children’s shows, Elise seemed more absorbed. Her eyes followed the movements on the screen with a greater sense of fascination, and she would occasionally let out soft chuckles or mimic the simple actions of the characters, her eyes reflecting the gentle, uncomplicated joy of the presented stories.

Reading time became a more engrossing activity for Elise. Naomi would often find her settled comfortably in a corner, a colorful children’s book spread open in her lap. The books were incredibly simple, designed for young children, containing minimal text. Elise would turn the pages slowly, mouthing the few words silently, her fingers tracing the bold illustrations. The simplicity of the content seemed to captivate her in a unique way, the straightforward narratives and vivid images holding her attention more effectively.

Another calendar page down, as it did every morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the living room floor. Elise was sprawled on the couch, her eyes glued to the television screen. The animated characters danced and sang, prompting their young viewers to clap along or shout out answers. While Elise didn't actively participate in the back-and-forth of the show, her attention was undeniably captured by the unfolding storyline.

After a particularly vibrant song sequence, Elise turned her head toward Giselle, who was nearby, tidying up the room. "Can I color?" she asked, her voice holding a hint of childlike enthusiasm.

Giselle smiled, "Of course, but let me check you first."

Elise shifted slightly to accommodate a check, "I'm dry," she stated confidently.

However, as Giselle approached and gently checked the state of her diaper, she felt the unmistakable dampness. "Seems like you've had a little accident," she noted softly.

Elise's brows furrowed in surprise, touching the front of her diaper. The realization of her accident washed over her, but her face didn't register much distress or embarrassment. Instead, she shrugged slightly, "Can you change me later? I really want to color now."

Giselle, emphasizing the importance of cleanliness and comfort, replied, "Let's get you changed first, and then you can color as much as you want." Elise didn't protest, nodding in agreement.

After the swift changing process, Giselle handed Elise a coloring book and a box of crayons. Elise settled down on the floor, flipping to a page with a large, intricate butterfly. As she began coloring, it was clear she was deeply engrossed in the activity. Her tongue occasionally peeked out in concentration, and she took special care to ensure her crayon strokes remained within the lines. The world around her faded away as she immersed herself in the simple joy of coloring, a vivid testament to her evolving mental state.

The seasons changed, but within the confines of her simple home, the rhythm remained consistent. Each morning began with one of her four caretakers, either Clara, Naomi, Giselle, or Fatima, administering the cognitive test. Elise, who once breezed through it, now paused often, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. Especially after a session with Dr. Lavelle, she struggled more with the memory questions.

When it came to her diapers, she often sat unaware of their dampness until one of her caretakers checked and informed her. She'd just nod and wait to be changed. At times, she'd be engaged in something on the TV or a coloring book, only to repeat a word she heard, her voice sounding like she was trying it out for the first time.

Coloring used to be a task she found simple, but now her hands seemed to rebel against her intent, lacking the precision they once had, often went slightly outside the lines as she hurried.

Meal times had their challenges too. More than once, Clara or Fatima would have to clean up a spill, gently chiding Elise to be more careful. It wasn't long before they introduced a bib, which she wore without protest. And her regular glass was replaced with a cup with a lid to minimize spills.

Yet through it all, Elise didn’t seem upset. She accepted her changing capacities, not with joy but with indifference, as if that’s the way things should be. The world was getting simpler for her, more straightforward and easier to navigate.

One sunny morning, Elise was seated on her comfortable couch, eyes glued to the vibrant colors and cheerful voices emanating from the children's show on the TV. Clara was on duty, ensuring Elise’s needs were met. The room filled with the exaggerated enthusiasm of the show's host, encouraging the viewers to clap and sing along and Clara was surprised when Elise obeyed, clapping her hands with surprising eagerness. Her face, usually calm and passive, was animated with a childlike excitement.

Clara observed quietly, noting the change, "You're enjoying the show today, Elise?"

"Yeah! It’s fun!" Elise responded, not shifting her gaze from the screen, and along with the obvious simplicity that she was exhibiting, it seemed she had little concept of what was appropriate left, as Clara observed, one of hands coming to rest between her legs, obviously stimulating herself through her diaper.

"Elise" Clara gently cautioned, grabbing her hand and holding it, redirecting her attention skillfully. But the moment passed unacknowledged by Elise, whose attention remained riveted on the lively antics of the television characters.

A few weeks later, with Naomi present, Elise was again engaged in a kids' show. In the midst of playful tunes, she suddenly announced, "I pooped." as if commenting on the weather, and she continued to watch the show, seemingly unbothered by the state of her pants.

While mildly surprised, Naomi responded professionally. "Alright, Elise. Let’s get you cleaned up," she said, guiding Elise toward her bedroom.

On another day, Giselle was present when post-lunch, Elise had evidently taken a liking to sucking on her fingers, a habit that seemed to comfort her. She sat there, fingers in her mouth, eyes vacantly watching the tv.

"Elise, let’s try to keep our fingers out of our mouth, okay?" Giselle encouraged, offering a stuffed bear instead for Elise to hold.

Elise followed the suggestion momentarily but soon reverted to her fingers, finding solace in the repetitive action, oblivious to the appropriateness or the watchful eyes of her caretaker.

Through each phase, the caretakers maintained their professionalism, adapting to Elise's evolving behaviors and needs without imposing stringent corrections or overt discomfort. They were the quiet pillars, managing each day with adaptability and a focus on Elise's comfort and care.

One morning, mid test, Elise sat at the wooden dining table, her eyes drifting towards the television which was currently off. Fatima noticed her distraction and gently cleared her throat.

“Elise, focus here for a moment,” Fatima said, placing the test booklet in front of her.

Elise blinked, pulling her gaze away from the television, "Can I watch cartoons after?"

"Yes, after we finish the test," Fatima replied patiently. "Ready?"

Elise nodded, though her mind was clearly elsewhere.

"First question, Elise: Can you tell me your full name?"

"Elise..." she hesitated, "... um, Elise Smith?"

"Correct," Fatima noted down. "Now, can you count backwards from ten for me?"

Elise squinted, thinking, "Ten... nine... um... seven?"

Fatima made a note, "That's alright. Moving on. I'm going to name three items: banana, chair, and sun. Can you repeat them back to me?"

"Banana... chair... and... um...?"

Fatima continued, holding up a picture of a dog, "What is this?"

"Puppy!" Elise responded, a hint of enthusiasm in her voice.

"Good. Can you subtract six from fifteen?"

Elise’s fingers began to move as she counted, but she lost track quickly, "Um... eight?"

"That's close," Fatima encouraged. She then held up two cards - one with a face showing anger and another showing confusion. "Can you tell me what these faces are feeling?"

Elise pointed to the first one, "Sad?" And then to the second, "Sad?"

Fatima nodded, jotting down the answers. "Last question, Elise. If I have two apples and I eat one, how many do I have left?"

"One!" Elise said confidently.

"Good job, Elise," Fatima praised, closing the booklet. "You can go watch cartoons now."

Elise's face lit up instantly, "Yay! Cartoons!" She eagerly hopped off the chair and scampered towards the TV, the test already a distant memory.

Elise's cognitive decline became more evident with each passing day. Her behavior during the cognitive test was now expected; she would become distracted easily, often looking around the room or becoming engrossed in the texture of the paper the test was printed on.

Her speech had changed noticeably as well. One day, after Clara had offhandedly referred to Elise's soiled diapers as "poopy," Elise, without a hint of embarrassment or hesitation, started to use the term herself. "I poopied," she'd announce, as simply as if she had said ‘I have to go to the bathroom’.

Naomi, curious about the extent of Elise's reading abilities, one afternoon presented her with one of the simple children's books from the shelf. "Can you read this to me, Elise?" she asked, watching closely. Elise looked at the book, her fingers tracing over the colorful illustrations. "The... ca...cat," she began slowly, sounding out each syllable with effort. It was clear she was relying heavily on the pictures, her eyes darting between the words and the corresponding images, trying to make the connection. When she reached a word she couldn’t immediately decipher, her brow would furrow in concentration. "The cat... likes... mmm... milk," she finished, sounding out the word "milk" with a long pause between 'mil' and 'k.'

Naomi hid her concern behind a gentle smile. "Good job, Elise," she encouraged, even if somewhat disingenuous.

With each passing day, the remnants of Elise's former intellectual capabilities became more scarce, replaced by a simplicity and innocence more akin to a child.

By the sixth month, Elise was a different person than she had been when they met. The sharpness that once defined her had dulled considerably.

In the living room, the glow of the television cast a colorful light, as animated characters danced on screen. Elise sat cross-legged, her eyes wide, fully engrossed. Every so often, a character would pose a question, and Elise would respond with innocent enthusiasm.

"Where's the moon?" the animated rabbit on the screen asked.

"Up in the sky!" Elise exclaimed, pointing upwards, a genuine grin on her face.

During her cognitive tests, it was clear her skills had faded. Giselle, or "Gigi" as Elise now called her, held up a set of fingers. "Elise, how many fingers am I holding up?" Elise squinted, counted her own fingers, then said, "Five?"

"That's right," Gigi replied, even though it had been four. The goal of the test was her inability to complete it anyway. She noted the difficulty in the record book.

Personal boundaries? What personal boundaries?. When Clara, now affectionately termed "Claire" by Elise, came into the room, Elise jumped up and wrapped her arms around her in an unsolicited hug. And once, while sitting on the couch, she tried pulling Naomi, or "Noms", down next to her, giggling when she almost lost her balance.

"Elise, sweetie, I'm too big for you to pull like that," Naomi chided gently.

Elise's bottom lip protruded. "Cuddles," she murmured, her eyes looking up pleadingly.

Some mornings, as the sun streamed through the blinds, Fatima, or "Tima", would walk into Elise's room to wake her up. Today, as she approached, Elise rubbed her eyes, looked up, and exclaimed, "Morning, Noms!"

"It’s Fatima, Elise," Fatima corrected habitually, it was hit or miss if Elise would identify the two of them correctly, both having dark hair and skin despite the fact they didn’t look very similar otherwise.

Mealtimes had become messier. Utensils lay untouched in the drawer, as Elise used her hands to pick up food, she had begun holding forks and spoons like a toddler held a crayon and ended up spilling more food onto the floor. Pasta sauce smeared on her face, her fingers sticky with residue. Naomi watched, holding a napkin ready for the inevitable cleanup.

In the afternoon, Elise often colored. But now, instead of the neat lines she once adhered to, her crayon strokes were wild and uncoordinated. A coloring book lay open, with more color outside the lines than within. Giselle peeked over her shoulder, "That's a nice... flower?" she guessed.

Elise giggled, "It's the sun!"

The days had become indistinguishable for Elise, each one flowing into the next with the same rhythm of children's shows, coloring, and naps. The afternoon sun streamed in, casting a warm glow in the living room where Elise lay, her head resting on Giselle's lap, sucking on her fingers absentmindedly.

Giselle's nose crinkled as an unmistakable odor wafted up. She looked down at Elise, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Elise, did you poop?"

Elise pulled her fingers out of her mouth and blinked up at her with innocent eyes. "Didn't poopy," she declared confidently, returning her fingers back to her mouth.

Giselle, however, knew better. She gently shifted Elise's position and pulled back the waistband of the diaper just a little to peek inside. As suspected, Elise had, in fact, had a bowel movement and hadn't realized.

"Oh, sweetie," Giselle murmured, "you did have a little accident."

Elise looked genuinely surprised, her eyes widening slightly. "No poopy."

Giselle offered a gentle smile, trying to keep the situation calm. "Come on, let's get you changed."

She helped Elise sit up and held out a hand, but Elise pouted, her brow furrowing slightly. "Wanna watch TV," she mumbled, but Giselle persisted.

"It'll just take a minute, and then you can get back to your show," Giselle assured her.

With a slight huff and the promise of returning to her show soon, Elise begrudgingly followed Giselle to her room for a much-needed diaper change.

From that moment, things seemed to nosedive for Elise. She no longer recognized the feeling when she soiled her diaper, often too engrossed in what she was doing. As days turned into weeks, Elise's lack of awareness became even more pronounced. She would sit, her diaper messy, seemingly unperturbed until her caregivers would gently, but firmly, guide her to be changed.

The cognitive tests were soon thrown out. Each time she took them, it became increasingly clear that Elise had ‘passed’. The last test she took saw her easily distracted, her gaze flitting around, her answers either incomprehensible or entirely incorrect. After each had their turn her caretakers had unanimously decided the test was to be shelved.

Reading, once a daily routine, even if just childrens books, now became a task beyond her capabilities. She could no longer follow the simple words on the pages of children's books. The only way she connected with them was through the bright and colorful pictures. When her caregivers read to her, her eyes would light up, but it was evident that her understanding was tied primarily to the images she saw and the intonations she heard. Words, in their meaning and depth, seemed to have slipped away from her grasp.

A year after Elise’s descent had begun, it seemed to have reached her desired conclusion. Morning light had barely started filtering through the curtains when Clara entered Elise’s room. The sight that met her eyes was both surprising and dismaying. Elise sat amidst a chaotic mess on her bed, her diaper partly off, its contents smeared across the sheets, walls, and clothes. Clara noticed some of the mess perilously close to Elise’s grinning mouth, "Poopy" she said clumsily in two distinct syllables, a grim realization settling in, there wasn’t much left in that pretty head. It seemed that they would now have to consider additional preventive measures like hand mittens or back-zipping sleepers to prevent such incidents in the future.

Carefully, Clara began the clean-up process, gently steering Elise to the bathroom for a thorough wash. Elise seemed oblivious to the enormity of the mess, her eyes vacant, but a small, contented smile playing on her lips. Post-cleanup, dressed in fresh clothes and a clean diaper, Elise was led to the living area where she plopped down, immediately drawn to the vibrant colors and sounds emanating from the children’s television show playing, despite the fact she had seen the episode dozens of times and words were a bit past her understanding.

After breakfast, which Clara fed to her, as Elise’s clumsy hands generally ended up putting food everywhere but her mouth, they moved on to a different set of activities. Coloring seemed to engross Elise, but her lack of coordination and understanding made the activity more chaotic, past using coloring books, a wild array of scribbles across a blank page.

Diaper changes punctuated the day, fitting into the natural rhythm of activities. Clara noticed that Elise's bowel movements had become remarkably regular since losing her control, typically occurring an hour after meals. Elise’s awareness of her own bodily functions was non-existent, except apparently when it was disgusting playtime; she showed no signs of discomfort or realization, even when her diaper was soiled.

Naomi took over in the afternoon, subbing in like clockwork. Safety had become a more pressing concern as Elise seemed to have lost a sense of danger or hygiene. Naomi had to be extra vigilant, ensuring that Elise didn’t put inappropriate objects in her mouth, a behavior she had increasingly started displaying.

The day unfolded with simple, structured activities - playing with soft toys, watching more children's TV shows, and some time spent idly flipping through cardboard picture books, her caretakers no longer trusting her with the paper ones as they would often end up damp with saliva. Elise’s face close to the pages as she tried to make sense of the vibrant images.

As evening approached, Naomi helped Elise with her dinner, doing the strap on her chair to keep her in place as she fed her, followed once again by more cartoons. Naomi maintained a watchful presence able to intervene if necessary, like the many occasions things find their way into her mouth.

Night fell, bringing with it a soft, enveloping silence as the TV was clicked off. Elise, fresh diaper on, and nestled comfortably in her bed, drifted off to sleep.

Elise's transition over the year had been remarkable, not just for her but for her caregivers too. Clara, Naomi, Giselle, and Fatima had begun their roles with the understanding that their task was unique. They had been given the responsibility of assisting a competent adult through a process that would gradually diminish her capabilities. But as the months wore on, their duties shifted from that of unconventional overseers to something much more familiar. Their roles mirrored what they had trained for: caring for someone functionally disabled.

It was a profound change to witness. Elise, once self-sufficient and independent, now needed constant oversight. Her day-to-day activities, once complex and filled with variety, had simplified to the point of predictability. Each of her caregivers now found themselves falling back on their foundational training, tapping into their skills and knowledge of caring for someone with significant cognitive limitations.

Yet, through it all, there was a solace in knowing Elise was content. Whether it was the genuine smile that played on her lips as she watched a children's show or the soft humming sound she made while coloring, there was an evident joy in her actions. Elise might not have the capability to understand the full spectrum of her choices or the depth of the journey she had undertaken, but in her limited awareness, she was happy. She was ensconced in a world of simplicity, colors, and comforts. The once complex tapestry of her life had been replaced with broad, vibrant strokes on a nearly blank sheet of paper.

And so, life carried on. The caregivers, dedicated and compassionate, continued their roles with diligence and care. And Elise, in her own world, found a unique kind of peace.

#ai assisted #age regression #talesofmeta #diaper regression #diaper dependent #iq drain #iq reduction #dumbification

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romanarose · 1 year

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Take Your Time Masterlist

Beautiful moodboard by my dearest @welcometostayingawake thank you for always supporting this universe <3

Frankie Morales x Fem!OC (Jana Fernandez) Summary: 6 months into sobriety, Frankie is still struggling, and understandably so. After a near-relapse, he calls Jana, his ex-girlfriend and the mother of his daughter for help when he hurts himself. Ridden with guilt, Frankie tries to push everyone away by picking fights and not answering calls, convinced he is a grenade doomed to hurt anyone in his proximity. Can Jana work with the guys to get through to him? Can Jana convince him he in worthy of her love, and the unconditional adoration of their daughter?

General Warnings for whole fic, heed individual chapter warnings: Addiction, self-harm, self-hatred, drinking, smut

Unknown number of chapters at this point but:

Chapter 1: Francisco calls Jana late one night, trying not to relapse. She comes to him, finding him in a deeper emergency than she anticipated.

Chapter 2: The next day, Jana and Frankie deal with the fall out of the night before, and Frankie begins spiraling.

Chapter 3: Frankie gives up, but those around him don’t.

Chapter 4: Frankie talks to Rosie, apologizing for not being the dad he wanted to be; flashbacks to Frankie leaving for Colombia.

Chapter 5: All flashbacks to periods of time in Frankie and Jana’s relationship; meeting, Frankie’s relationship with Jana’s family, and finding out they were having a baby.

Chapter 6: Jana and Frankie decide the time is right.

Bonus Chapter: Learning to let go

Chapter 7: Frankie feels insecure, but Jana is always there for him. Laci and Santi take a big step

Takes place after Leather and Lace, but not at all necessary to read before this one.

Spotify playlist

OC'S

Jana Fernandez: Frankie's "lady" he referred to in the movie. Jana and Frankie met in the Army during Jana's brief stint to pay for college, where Santiago introduced them. Jana comes from a loving family, and doesn't take shit; including from Santi. Her and Frankie fell into addiction, but Jana got sober shortly before becoming pregnant with her and Frankie's baby, Rosie. Jana is someone who will always call others out on their behavior (often Santi) but is a powerful ally to have, and a loyal friend. This is shown by the fact despite breaking up, Jana has always remained on Frankie's side. Jana has thick, curly hair, medium dark skin, and is, in Santiago's words ''only half an inch taller" than him, hence her calling him ''Santito". Frankie absolutely has had to measure them. Multiple times.

Fatima Rosa-Maria Morales Fernandez (Rosie, Rose, Rosa): Named after Santi's sister, a surrogate mother to Frankie, who died of an overdose, Rosie is the 2-year-old child of Frankie and Jana. She's starting to talk, her favorite words are mama and daddy (and shit, but that's Uncle Benny's fault). Rosie adores her aunts and uncles, and is damn near spoiled by her godfather, Santi, and both Miller brothers. Santi's girlfriend, Laci, often watches Rosie if Jana and Frankie are both busy, and the two bonded immediately when Laci came into the guy's lives. Rosie's hair takes very much after her maternal grandfather and is very thick and dark. She is a giggly and happy baby, and the light of her mother and father's eyes. Frankie wants, more than anything, to protect his Rosa from himself and his past.

Lacina Dumas (Laci): Santiago's girlfriend, who he is absolutely head over heals in love with. The pair are a frequent source of groans from the guys, being disgustingly in love. She is besties with Benny Miller, but has become friends with Jana, and is part of the reason Jana has been seeing more of Frankie these days. Laci comes from a very traumatic background, which you can read about (as well as her and Santi's journey of love) in Leather and Lace, which is why Santi is so protective of her. Laci is emotionally fragile, and prone to not talking, or having non-verbal episodes if her anxiety is high enough. Outside of where she volunteers, she needs to have someone who trusts with her out in public. She had medium, straight, blonde hair, and is very petite and short. Laci is a gentle soul. She has battled addiction in her previous life, so she's been a support to Frankie during this time.

Alice McCartney: Benny's girlfriend, introduced in chapter 6. Alice had long, wavy, sandy brown hair, and struggles to fit into the group's dynamic, as well as understanding everyone. Alice is suspicious of Laci, and makes a bad first impression on Jana, making things difficult from the get-go. Alice is curious and has no filter, saying what she thinks and asking the many questions she has.

Any and all art, collages, anything like that that any of you make will go here, as if anyone write's stories within this universe!

Hope you all enjoy!!

#TF RomanaVerse #Take Your Time fic #Frankie Morales #frankie morales fic #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #frakie morales hurt comfort #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal #Santi and Laci #Leather and Laci universe

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densi-mber · 4 months

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With Mistletoe and Presents for Pretty Girls

“Ok, what else do we need?” Deeks asks, surveying the spread in front of him. There’s a meat and cheese tray (he refuses to call it a charcuterie board), fruit, desserts, a variety of snacks, and drinks.

“A kitchen sink?” Kensi suggests wryly, peering over his shoulder. A tiny hand grabs ahold of his shirt, and he turns his head, grinning up into Caleb’s round face.

“What do you think? Should we add some peanut butter and jelly, maybe some spaghetti?”

“Tootie,” Caleb whispers with a grin that shows two tiny, perfect teeth. It’s pretty much Deeks’ favorite thing ever. Sophia has an almost identical set.

“Oh, you’re totally right. We definitely need more cookies,” Deeks says, leaning in to give Caleb a smacking kiss on the cheek. “How’s everyone doing out there?”

“Great. Your mom is entertaining Kilbride with scandalous stories from her past. I’m not sure if he’s amused or horrified,” Kensi reports.

“Hey, it’s got to be better than Arkady.”

“Kady,” Caleb repeats solemnly, looking around the room expectantly.

“Otherwise, everyone has drinks and food. They seem pretty happy.”

“Are we crazy to host a Christmas party when we’ve got twin one year olds running around?” Deeks asks.

“Probably,” Kensi confirms lightly.

“Speaking of twins, where’s Soph?”

“Oh, I left her with Eric and Nell.” Deeks purses his lips at that revelation, and she quickly adds, “Don’t worry. Sam’s on standby.”

“Good. I trust them. But they also are slightly insane,” Deeks says.

Smiling, he turns, bracing his back against the counter. He settles his hands on Kensi’s hips. “Hey, did I mention that you look fantastic?” he asks, smoothing a thumb over the soft fabric of her dress.

“If you like this, wait until you see tonight’s wardrobe,” she murmurs, leaning forward to brush her nose over his. Deeks’ breath catches, and he chuckles softly.

“Can’t wait.”

“Mm.” Kensi stays pressed against him for a few more seconds until Caleb decides he wants to be included and smushes his face between them. “Ok, ok, time to rejoin the party,” she says, snatching a mini quiche off the counter and popping it in her mouth.

Together, they head out into the living room, which is at capacity with the tree, manger, and guests packed inside. Said guests are gathered in a semi-circle, their attention focused on something in the center of the room.

The reason behind that focus becomes obvious when Deeks sees Sam toss Sophia above his head, and Nell says,

“Ok, ok, enough of that. Kensi left her in my charge and I’m not gonna let anything happen to Sophie.”

“Like I’d drop her,” Sam scoffs.

“All right, quit hogging the baby,” Rountree’s voice filters through.

“Oh no, it’s my turn,” Fatima protests.

“Looks like we didn’t need to provide any entertainment after all,” Deeks drawls, watching Sophia unwittingly participate in a round of musical baby. “Small children are sufficient.”

“Just so long as we get them back at the end of the night,” Kensi comments, stretching her neck to follow Sophia’s progress around the room.

“Ca down!” Caleb requests, kicking his legs as Kensi crouches to set him down. As soon as he hits the floor, he’s off running on his chubby legs, towards his sister, and the guests.

“Caleb!” Nell shouts out, squatting and holding her arms out. He runs towards her willingly, letting her scoop him up into her arms. “I call dibs.”

“Nell, it’s not a contest,” Callen reminds her, but she ignores him in favor of taking Caleb to a clear space and spinning him in tight circles.

The next few hours are spent enjoying food and drinks while the twins keep them entertained. Everyone has brought a gift of some type as well, and soon the room is littered with little strips of wrapping paper and tissue.

“Best Christmas party we’ve ever had,” Deeks sighs. Kensi’s curled up against his side, Sophia and Caleb settled on his lap. Most of the guests have left by now, but Eric and Nell are passed out on a chair together.

“It was.” Kensi lifts her head, pressing her lips to his for a lingering kiss. “How about we open that present?”

“Now?” Deeks asks in surprise.

“Yeah, the twins are asleep,” Kensi says.

“With Eric and Nell in the house.”.

“Eric sleeps like the dead and Nell drank a lot of egg nog,” Kensi reasons. “They’re not going to be waking up for a while.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon let’s be risky.” Pulling away from him, Kensi gives him that look he can’t resist.

“You are a menace,” he says with a grin.

***

A/N: Perhaps not the most traditional Christmas Party, but I hope you enjoyed it.

#densimber 7.0 #densimber 2023 #densimber day 13 #ncis la fanfiction #densi #kensi blye #marty deeks #and co #Christmas party #fluff #by ejzah

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soleilnomoon · 1 year

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hi i would like to order a honey lemon drop with frozen yogurt for nanami. and ftm he/him pronouns if possible

so sorry for the long, long, long wait omg 😭 so ty for being patient💛, but i finished and i really like how it turned out (i hope u do too 😊) anyway i think this is my first nanami fic, so naturally i love that you wanted angst

1.9k words, ftm reader (he/him), sfw (surprise surprise), 18+ mdni, angst city all dayyy, no real warnings except that reader is a little bit of a coward (but i, too, would be unable to confess to nanami ok i understand), feat. one bed trope, forced proximity, nanami being capt. of the delulu squad (as usual), i think that's it! maybe.

“how can i not love you violently when / all i have ever known is / violence in the name of love?” — fatima aamer bilal

on a rainy thursday night, you find yourself in a second-rate motel room with one nanami kento. the situation you’ve found yourself in is less than ideal, but it’s too late to travel back home now — the distance alone puts both of you at risk, especially since you sustained an injury on your mission.

you wince as you canvas the room — a habit you’ve yet to break since childhood — and when you find that it’s safe enough, you relax a bit. but even with a soft exhale, you find yourself holding onto your side with your hand, a strained expression etched carelessly onto your soft features. you tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that you can take whatever pain comes your way. it works to distract you quite a bit, until you remember that you’re not occupying this space alone.

nanami kento thinks you’re an idiot — possibly a bigger one than gojo satoru, although that’s debatable depending on the time of day. his reasoning is simple. only an idiot would leave themselves wide open during a fight; only an idiot would push their superior out of harm’s way without any regard for their own life; and only an idiot would wave off an injury like that and pretend that they’re fine when they’re clearly not.

but, most importantly, only an idiot with a heart much too pure for this line of work, would consider the life of someone like him worth saving.

nanami clenches his jaw for what feels like the hundredth time that day, his nerves frayed despite the nonchalance he insists on presenting to you. the room is tinier than he expected, but he doesn’t have the option of being picky right now. he shrugs off his jacket and neatly drapes it on the back of a nearby chair before running a hand down his face.

you groan a little louder than you mean to as you try to find a comfortable position while sitting on the bed, which only furthers his frustration with you.

when nanami caught you just as you fell over, he thought he’d lost another partner — although, is partner the right word in his instance? he’s not so sure now. the thought of you losing your life when you have so much more to live for, forces a different kind of fear to settle heavily in his stomach.

humans — both sorcerers and non-sorcerers — are fragile, much more prone to crumbling under the strength of supernatural entities. nanami’s wondered for a while if this line of work is suitable for someone like you. someone who, despite him telling you to save yourself first, has a blatant disregard for their own well-being, even in the face of danger.

it's absolutely infuriating to him. he was being careless, which is wholly unlike him. maybe it’s because his focus shifted slightly, where he watched you a little more closely than he should have — to ensure your safety, of course — and by the time he realized, you’d already taken the hit for him.

foolish. very, very foolish.

you watch nanami carefully, biting down on your bottom lip, wondering if he’s going to lecture you to death over your actions. he was silent during the car ride and hasn’t said much since you arrived at the motel — so you’re nervous, and why wouldn’t you be? you’re sure he doesn’t hate you, but sometimes you wonder; you always mess up in front of him, and no matter what you do you can’t seem to keep it together.

if only you could channel some courage to tell him that it’s alright, that you didn’t mind getting hurt, that you just wanted to make sure he was okay. you know that he’s much more adept at fighting, his own physical prowess out ranks yours significantly, but he’s always given you credit for your determination and insistence on trying over and over again. you assume that his silence is his attempt at keeping his anger at bay — and you’re partially right, it is.

but not for the reasons you think.

nanami hasn’t gotten the hang of properly expressing himself, because you also make him nervous — and it annoys him greatly. he recognizes it as some sort of affection for you on his part, but since he’s so good at denying himself — of the things he really wants, of anything that might bring him a sliver of happiness — it took months for him to piece together his feelings.

maybe it’s because your own feelings for him overwhelm you constantly; they make it difficult for you to keep eye contact for longer than a few seconds, makes it damn near impossible for you to be near him without feeling like you’re out of your element. you don’t entertain those outlandish daydreams anymore — the intimate ones, where he sees you as something more than a colleague — but from time to time, the compulsion hits you.

you happen to glance down at your shirt and realize you’re bleeding through it, so you unbutton it without thinking, careful to not agitate your wound. nanami’s frown deepens; he reminds himself to never be that careless again. and although he sighs that signature sigh of his, he grabs the first aid kit and walks over to the bed.

“let me clean that,” he says quietly, placing the supplies on the bed next to you before rolling up his sleeves.

the sight of his forearms is enough to send you into cardiac arrest. thankfully, you somehow manage to survive the ordeal — although your heart feels like it’s beating faster than it should, you’re surprised nanami doesn’t hear it.

swallowing hard, you try and stop him. “n-no, that’s fine. i don’t need your help.” you continue rambling and stumbling over your words, face burning from embarrassment. he grabs a chair and sits in front of you, barely paying attention to your protests. your voice is comforting — dulcet tones, soft and unsure, but very much you; it helps to take the tension away from him, and he suddenly starts to feel himself relax a bit.

when you impulsively grab his wrist to stop him, he fixes you with a stern look, effectively snuffing out any rebelliousness on your end.

it’s not that he thinks you’re incapable of cleaning it yourself, it’s that he knows you’re still in pain, and it will be more efficient if he does it himself. his excuse is that he’s gotten quite good at patching himself up over the years, and he somehow rationalizes that it makes the most sense for him to be the one to help you with this.

you let go of his wrist and try not to move, instead finding yourself watching nanami up close. heat beat slowing, yet somehow still a thunderous sound in your ears, you try to remain calm despite his close proximity. a heat radiates off your body — one he certainly feels but ignores for the sake of his own sanity. acting on emotions, on physical impulses, on outlandish dreams — those are things nanami simply cannot do.

or, rather, that he shouldn’t do.

nanami is classically handsome, with sharp features, an elegant nose, and long, fair lashes. you think you’re being inconspicuous as you watch him, committing his face to memory, so that you can think back on this exact moment later and anguish over unsaid words and actions you were too cowardly to take. you’re not exactly as subtle as you think you are, so nanami catches you fairly quickly. not that you realize any of that, you’re still trying to piece together your courage as nanami’s fingers graze your skin softly.

he moves with precision, albeit much slower than he normally does; he’s not sure if it’s an inherent selfishness on his part, but this is the only form of intimacy he’ll allow himself to have with you — as he knows the likelihood of you both living a full, enriching life is slim. still, he cleans your wound much faster than you’d like, the tips of his lithe fingers lingering dangerously close as he runs them along the bandage.

that touch alone causes you to sit up straight, breathe in sharply through your nose and grit your teeth together; it’s an attempt at grounding yourself, despite the goosebumps that crop up along your arms. still, you feel… full, somehow — and hopeful. your heart also feels too big for your chest now, almost as if there’s some sort of possibility of this being something more than a daydream.

nanami goes to wash his hands, although he looks over his shoulder at you to tell you, in that low, gravelly voice of his, that you can take the bed while he takes the armchair.

“that’s ridiculous,” you blurt out without warning, “we can share the bed, it’s not that small.”

there are so many reasons why he should not get in that bed with you, but none of them come to mind now; he wants to protest, though, very badly — but there you are, looking so fragile and seemingly angelic, that he acquiesces right away. you try not to let nerves get the best of you, as you didn’t think nanami would really agree to the demand. and by the time you both settle on the bed, nanami does his best to keep a respectful distance from you.

on a whim, because the lights are off, the rain soothes you in a way that easily invites fatigue to claim you right away, you shift closer to him. nanami stiffens immediately, not understanding why you keep insisting on trying his patience like that but relaxes eventually. he won’t admit it, but he likes that you’re completely vulnerable with him.

your eyelids grow heavy, making it impossible to stay awake, and you start mumbling as you drift off to sleep. holding his breath and keeping still, nanami strains his ears to hear you — almost like he knows that if he doesn’t, he’ll miss out on something very important.

the courage you’ve been desperately seeking comes unexpectedly, and of course it would happen while you’re delirious with exhaustion. you talk sometimes in your sleep; normally, no one is around to hear it, but tonight, nanami will be subjected to the one confession you thought you’d never be brave enough to say out loud.

you say, “i’m a little bit in love with you,” so quietly that nanami thinks he imagined it. he closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath, telling his mind to settle, before looking at you again. your words will haunt him for eternity, mostly because you didn’t mean to say them to him — not now, anyway — and he understands that.

but—

what is he supposed to do now that he knows? it complicates things even more for him, and as someone who hates unnecessary complications, he now has to reconsider his approach with you. still, he doesn’t get off the bed, doesn’t move away from you; instead, nanami traces the shape of your lips with his finger — slowly and with purpose. he doesn’t know what compels him to do that, except that he just wanted to. when your lips part, he pulls his hand back, nerves barely keeping together. he closes his eyes again and prays that sleep finds him soon; at this rate, he’ll end up telling you how he feels too, and he can’t possibly have that happen. not now, not ever.

#phewww finally i am done #i actually died 384 times while writing i want u to know but i survived!!!#🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event 🧁✨🍭#fic request #500+ followers event #milestone event #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento angst #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami angst #makin my way thru requests slowly but surely

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mobinkhan14m · 1 year

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Itrat e #Muhammad (s) Aur Aulad e #Fatima (a) #YounusAlGohar #GoharShahi #ImamMehdiGoharShahi #ifollowGoharShahi #sufism Click: https://youtu.be/JB02rv0Kto8 #Watch #ALRATV #Live at 4:00 AM IST. #WhatsApp For #Spiritual #Heart activation +447401855568 & for #Questions +447472540642 https://www.instagram.com/p/ClghNNntGk8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#muhammad #fatima #younusalgohar #goharshahi #imammehdigoharshahi #ifollowgoharshahi #sufism #watch #alratv #live #whatsapp #spiritual #heart #questions

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tasmiq · 15 days

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Jumu'ah Sohbet: 5 April 2024

Alhamdulillah for another productive Ramadan week in the lead up to Laylatul Qadr (The Night of Power / Decree), where we continued to contemplate on and practice taqwa (self-vigilance).

#1. Anne spoke about Laylatul Qadr (The Night of Power). It involves the Angels where Prophet Muhammad PBUH saw them in person on Laylatul Mi'raj (His blessed night journey and his ascension into Heaven). We may even be blessed to see them as our helpers because they witnessed our creation, and they help us to maintain Allah's order.

Thereafter, Anne said that she hoped that our taqwa (self-vigilance) practices were coming into effect when we were feeling disconnected, angry, or forgetful of turning to Allah. We ought to spend the time in Ramadan with Allah regardless of what is happening around us! The reasons we get angry could be because of injustice or feelings of control, entitlement, or fear. Surely, these are all reasons for us to turn to Allah. Ramadan is the ideal opportunity for detoxing our bad habits.

Ramadan gives us an extra incentive to practice taqwa, which is the actions that Allah is happy with. When we are contemplating on taqwa and we're watching our actions, we keep Allah's pleasure in mind! Many of us reported that this is the most spiritually connected that we've felt, with gratitude for Anne's spiritual leadership acumen.

#2. Fellow murids (followers), Sister Hayat and Wakil Rosieçim reflected that when they were running out of sabr (patience), they practiced taqwa, which moved them into love. One actually feels taqwa in one's body, muscles, and emotions. You have to be involved physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually with love. Similarly, as reflected by Sister Fatima, there is a place where Love is loving itself! It's Allah's love where humans are able to bring it back and reflect Him, insha'Allah.

Khalifa Rubina reflected that because we are studying taqwa so deeply, there were definite changes within our bodies. We perceive the change in our actions, where we experience peace and calmness. Anne astutely picked up another point, where we are experiencing Allah within ourselves. Our brains help us to understand, but our whole beings bring us to live with Allah. That is why it is said that Sufism should be learned by living our individual experiences of Allah.

#3. Our brother Daud referred to observing taqwa through difficulty. Anne postulated that there were two ways to deal with the difficulty. One way could be to surrender to Allah by accepting and witnessing what is happening in the subsequent moments. We pray for it while turning to Allah and saying, "What would You like to show me through this?" This is the moment-by-moment unfolding of my post-accident life which I have entiled my "Accidental Epiphany"! The other futile way is blocking and ignoring it.

Anne reminded us about the legacy of Hazrat Musa AS and Hazrat Khidr AS. When things go wrong, we should be asking the "what" questions rather than the "why" questions. What does Allah want to show me here? Am I seeing what is really happening, or am I seeing the veil? Who will open the veil? Allah will, insha'Allah. It won't happen while we're blocked and turned away. It is through witnessing, acknowledging, and feeling through our human faculties. We are not robots that are locked and closed up. Instead, we open ourselves to Allah.

In conclusion, I am left with humbled gratitude for our Tariqa as a deep spiritual school of like-minded hearts, from myriad walks of life, that have mystically been brought together ...

Shukran Ya Allah (Divine gratitude)

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typingtess · 7 days

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NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch: “Flesh & Blood”

The basics: Investigate a Navy wife fleeing the scene of her husband’s murder.

Written by: Chad Mazero co-wrote “Internal Affairs”, “Revenge Deferred”, “Where Everybody Knows Your Name”, “The Noble Maidens” and “Pandora’s Box”. Wrote “Tidings We Bring”, “Can I Get a Witness”, “All Is Bright”, “Diamond in the Rough”, “High Society”, “Murder of Crows”, "Overdue" and "Sorry for Your Loss".

Directed by: Daniela Ruah directed “Russia, Russia, Russia”, “Lost Sailor Down”, “Pandora’s Box” (co-written by Chad Mazero) and “Live Free or Die Standing”.

Guest stars of note: Pamela Reed returns from season 11’s “High Society” as Roberta Deeks, Bar Paly returns from “Of Value” as Anastasia “Anna” Kolcheck, Natalia Del Riego is back from “Game of Drones” as Rosa Reyes, Kavi Ramachandran Ladnier is back from the previous episode “Dead Stick” as NCIS Reserve Agent Shyla Dahr, Marnee Carpenter as Alice Morgan, Lauren "Lolo" Spencer as Ella and Rif Hutton as Navy Commander Albert Burns

Our heroes: Work with an abused wife to find some explosives while working through some home issues.

What important things did we learn about:

Callen: Waiting for Hetty to get married. Sam: Worried that Callen is avoiding getting married. Kensi: Feels like she’s not prepared for motherhood. Deeks: Bad baseball game in June of 1990. Fatima: Absent. Rountree: Looking to put his Beale bucks to good use. Kilbride: Not pleased with Deeks’s attitude about the Navy spousal abuse response.

What not so important things did we learn about:

Callen: Orphan. Sam: Once again looking for a caretaker for Raymond. Kensi: Hanging with Bertie, buying cleats with Rosa at the mall and negotiating teen angst. Deeks: Owes Kensi for hanging with Bertie. Fatima: Not around. Rountree: Called “Shark Tank” by Shyla. Kilbride: Not pleased with the Navy’s spousal abuse response in the cut scenes.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Don’t know but Anna wants her found so she can marry Callen.

Who's down with OTP: Anna and Callen are trying to negotiate their way around a wedding date. Kensi and Deeks are trying to negotiate their way around Bertie.

Who's down with BrOTP: With the teams mixing and matching all episode, not a lot of BrOTP time but Shyla worked well with all.

Fashion review: Callen starts the episode in a black running shirt and black shorts. Wears a button down medium blue shirt for the rest of the episode. Sam has a wine colored long-sleeve tee-shirt. Kensi is in a white tee-shirt with thin blue stripes. Cornflower blue long-sleeve tee for Deeks. Rountree is wearing a light brown long-sleeve tee. Kilbride is in his civilian uniform with a medium blue three-piece suit, pale blue dress-shirt, blue tie.

Music: Not today.

Any notable cut scene: Finally! As Rountree is packing up for the day, Shyla asks him if he wants to go out for some tacos. He can’t – he’s meeting with his friend David Packer about his investment money. Shyla asks him not to. Understanding that she may be overstepping, she knows Rountree has a real fire inside after what happened with Jordyn and the LAPD. The person Rountree needs to invest in is himself.

As they leave, Sam is find a caretaker for his Dad. The Admiral says that gets Sam a good night’s sleep. The Admiral also thinks Alice Morgan deserved better. The Admiral thinks maybe they should blow up the whole damn book on abuse cases. Then promises to if Sam tells anyone he said that, the Admiral would make sure Sam didn’t get a good night’s sleep ever again.

Quote: Deeks: So it's, uh... June 30, 1990. And my mom decides she wants to take me to watch the Dodgers play the Cardinals. And I will never forget that day.” Alice: “I don't care about sports.” Deeks: “That's funny, 'cause I don't care about sports either. No, the reason I remember it is because it was so hot. Like, L.A. had been coming off this massive heat wave and I can still see the ice cream cone melting as it's being passed down the row.” Alice: “Now you want to talk about weather?” Deeks: “Actually, I do, because...that is the other thing that I can still see from that day, is my mom. And she's sitting next to me in this 90-degree heat, except for the fact that she is wearing...she's wearing jeans and a long-sleeve turtleneck. And she was covered up like that the whole entire summer. Not that it matters, because she couldn't cover the bruises on her face.” Alice: “Did he spare you, at least?” Deeks: “No. I mean, but I was a kid, right? Kids are supposed to have bruises. I'd just tell the teachers that, um...I got another fight in the playground. What do you tell people?” Alice: “I don't have anyone left to tell. He made me push everyone away.” Deeks: “Yeah, they do that.”

Runner up: Rountree: “Was all that true? About your dad?” Deeks: “Every word of it.”

Anything else: At night in a suburban neighborhood, a woman is frantically packing her things. She gets a phone call from her father and tries to blow him off. Seeing her in a mirror, her clothes are covered with blood. Her father is recommending a Tom Hanks movie as she is trying to get him off the phone. She tells her father she loves him as she tries to leave the house. A man’s dead body is making it hard to open the door. But she succeeds.

Callen arrives home with two smoothies. He’s worn out which surprises Anna. She ran for six-miles, he “bailed” after two. Since the bagel place didn’t have bagels, he brought smoothies. Anna wanted bagels before her job interview that day. She also wants to pick a wedding date. Every time of the year Anna mentions, Callen has a reason not to get married at that time. She offers him an out when it comes to getting married. He wants to get married, Callen assures her, just find the right time to do it.

At the Blye-Deeks home, everyone is running around as the day starts. Rosa is missing her backpack. When Kensi tosses it, Deeks walks right into the tossed backpack. Rosa and Deeks review her latest assignment as they hustle to leave. Deeks gets a phone call – it’s Bertie. She’s been on the road for six months of “eat, pray and loving” her way across the country. Deeks thinks this is all TMI. After seeing “Nomadland”, Bertie rented out her apartment so she is going to crash at the Blye-Deeks residence. She needs someone to be there to let her in. Rosa really needs to leave for school so they are going to figure something out.

Walking near the gym, Shyla hears Rountree working out and quoting “300”. He’s working on an ancient martial arts technique to strengthen his grip and arms. When Rountree gets a text, he asks Shyla to look at his phone – they could have a case. Instead, Rountree has a text from “Packer” who is talking about his pants being on fire. Packer is a friend of Rountree’s from Quantico. Packer is starting a clothing line and Rountree is a possible investor. He’s looking to grow some of the money Eric left them all last year. After what happened to Rountree and Jordyn, he's looking to invest that money into a growing business. Shyla would have taken the Eric money and spent some time in Tokyo.

Sam has a call and so does the Admiral. Both are unhappy with their calls. Sam lost another caretaker for Raymond, NCIS is making Kilbride go through another round of approvals for expenses. Cranky men in Ops alert.

The Admiral looks around an empty Ops and wonders where is everyone. On the screen is the dead man blocking the door from the opening scenes. He is Lt. Jeff Morgan, an intelligence officer working out of a DoD Task Force. Morgan was stabbed several times. There are real concerns because Morgan was part of a team developing software to integrate intelligence gathered by all branches of the armed services. If an outsider or foreign government got access to that software, they’d have access all U.S. military intelligence. Sam asks if there are any suspects – China, Russia, Iran or Alice Morgan, Jeff’s wife. She’s was seen leaving the house at the estimated time of death.

In the office driveway, Kensi and Deeks are arguing about who is going to help Bertie unpack. Deeks is owed a favor by Kensi and he’s calling it in. She’s not interested in helping unpack all of Mama Deeks’s Michael Bublé fannish things. Besides, Deeks should help his mother. Callen arrives but isn’t interested in hearing any of this – he’s an orphan. Deeks says that funny, Callen doesn’t agree.

Sam joins the trio, the most we’ve seen of this foursome together in a while. He's been working since 8AM and everyone else just arrived. Callen and Sam are off to the boatshed to meet with Morgan’s CO, Sam would like Kensi and Deeks to join Rountree at the crime scene. Sighing Kensi mentions she has some accrued leave Kilbride wants her to take so she’ll help Roberta, get Rosa from school and Rosa can meet Bertie. Deeks tells Kensi he owes her.

At the house Morgan household, Rountree found a locked laptop – Shyla is getting a warrant to get in. Deeks is looking through some magazines while Rountree picks up the Morgans’s mail. One magazine has expensive furniture. Speaking of money, LAPD found a Rolex on Morgan’s wrist and a Lexus in the garage – this wasn’t a robbery gone bad. Rountree is confused – a junior officer like Morgan doesn’t make Rolex money.

Deeks flips through Morgan’s credit card bills – they are big. Since Alice Morgan didn’t have a job, the only way they could afford their lifestyle was if Jeff Morgan was selling military secrets. Deeks sees that the credit card bills include electronic toll charges – an EZ Pass. They can find Alice Morgan’s location that way.

In the boat shed, Morgan’s CO, Commander Burns, is not thrilled to be there. There are cellphones for meetings like this. He should be in his office dealing with the fallout from the tragedy of Morgan being killed and not sitting in the boatshed – a “Bubba Gump’s”.

Sam asks about the software. According to Burns, it tracks everything from emails between intelligence offices to weapons and ordnance use and supplies. Morgan was doing data analytics for the team but a month ago, he started visiting weapon manufacturers to make sure their software would work the with military’s new software. Burns really didn’t have much of an opinion of Morgan except he was a good kid. With hundreds of men under his command, he really didn’t know much about him. He remembers Alice Morgan was quiet and unfriendly. Burns is done with Callen and Sam. He’ll answer any other questions by phone – he has work to do. Callen and Sam want to check into Morgan’s travel vouchers to see where he went and who he saw.

In Ops, Shyla was able to get into the locked laptop but most accounts were logged out. She was able to get into Alice Morgan’s text messages – the laptop and Alice’s phones were synced up. There was a confirmation code for a company called Home Connection – discrete vacation rentals. Shyla finds Alice Morgan booked a home on Larchmont an hour after she was seen leaving her home the night before.

In Larchmont, Rountree is really impressed with the area. Good investments homes, water views – Rountree is talking about investments when Deeks says “Alice Morgan” who he sees leaving the rental house. Rountree says “Alice Morgan” which has the same effect of yelling “federal agents” since Alice starts to run. After she throws a branch cutter at Deeks, Rountree gets her to stop as she’s climbing a fence. She is armed but surrenders.

In interrogation, Deeks is on the right side of the table while Rountree is in the corner. Deeks is rattling on about the “Chose Your Adventures” books when Rountree says they have witnesses who saw her flee the scene of a murder. Rountree and Deeks can sit with Alice in interrogation all day or they can help her. Alice wonders where they were six months ago when she asked for help. Deeks wants to know what happened six months ago. Alice says she talked and talked and talked and nobody wanted to help. She moves in her chair, making sure her jacket and long sleeves cover her arms. An obviously bothered Deeks wants to take a break. He’s getting everyone coffee.

Callen and Sam return to the office. Cheryl, Raymond’s latest caretaker who is very into birds according to Callen, quit when Raymond started talking about war pigeons. Mentioning that Raymond’s previous caretaker quit when he wouldn’t ride in her Mazda – Raymond likes American-made cars – Callen thinks Sam is avoiding the real issue. Sam loves this conversation because Callen is all about avoiding issues…like his wedding date. Sam is sure Anna will understand whatever is holding Callen back. The Admiral walks by – everyone to Ops.

Shyla tells an arriving Callen and Sam that Alice Morgan isn’t talking. Commander Burns sent over Morgan’s travel vouchers. Comparing the travel vouchers to Morgan’s EZ-Pass charges, “something is rotten in Denmark” according to Shyla. Morgan visited a number of companies that made high-grade military explosives. After every meeting, he would go someplace 20-miles past his home. Using Kaleidoscope, Morgan is seen driving into a storage facility in El Monte two-days before he was killed. Sam gets a call from the caretaker agency. He’s taking it outside of Ops.

Deeks returns alone to interrogation with a cup of coffee for Alice. He explains it is June 30, 1990 and his mother takes him to a Cardinals-Dodgers game. He remembers that day. Alice doesn’t care about sports. Deeks doesn’t either but he will always remember that day. It was so hot. Ice cream cones were melts as they were being passed down the row. Alice doesn’t want to talk about the weather either. Deeks does. Because all he really remembers from that day – his mother wearing jeans and a long-sleeve turtleneck. Not that it really mattered – she couldn’t cover the bruises on her face. She wore clothes like that for the entire summer.

Alice asks if “he” spared Deeks. Deeks says no but kids are supposed to have bruises. He would tell the teachers he was fighting in the playground. “What do you tell people?” Alice said she had nobody to tell. Her husband made her push everyone away. Deeks asks how long has the abuse been going on. Physically, Alice tells him, three-years. “Mentally, who knows.” She doesn’t have access to their bank account. Morgan controlled every part of her life.

Deeks asks if a few months ago, she told the Navy. There was a military hotline and she called. She didn’t hear back. She filed a report with the family advocacy center who told her they’d look into it. Deeks has to asks and understands if she did – did Alice kill her husband? She didn’t – she found him dead when she arrived home. What surprised Alice was even after everything he did, she tried to save him. It doesn’t surprise Deeks.

Deeks asks why did she run. Alice explains that her husband was a valuable asset to the military, “I’m not.” She was afraid her reports would be used as motive. She asks for a few minutes and Deeks agrees. As he’s leaving, she mentions that her husband would smell like motor oil after he returns from his business trips.

At home, Bertie is telling Rosa about skinny dipping at a Ramada Inn off the Strip in Vegas. Kensi isn’t thrilled. Rosa is really entertained. She would like to see Adele in Las Vegas, a friend has a condo and the family would let her use it. The friend, Tay, is from her calculus class and Bertie is down on calculus. With a disastrous marriage, three dead-end jobs and a brush with a pyramid scheme, she never used the Pythagorean theorem. That’s really geometry, Kensi notes but Rosa is in love. Bertie is the coolest. Since Rosa needs to soccer cleats, she asks Kensi to take her and Tay to the mall. Bertie moves on to a story about taking a sound bath behind a DQ in Marfa.

At a storage unit facility, Callen, now teamed up with Shyla, is brought to Jeff Morgan’s storage unit by the manager. The place was cleaned out but still smells like almonds and motor oil – explosives manufacturers put the scent into their product on purpose. Callen finds a small piece of C-4. Shyla doesn’t think Morgan was killed for the software, he was killed after using his access to these explosive manufacturers to procure some product. Callen worries about where the explosives are now.

The woman managing the storage unit place wants all the inside scoop if there is a dead body – she has a true crime podcast. Three men were removing boxes from the back of the storage facility when the woman started her shift. She doesn’t have access to the video surveillance, however, only her boss can do that. Shyla wants the woman to call her boss – they need the footage now. Shyla is also going to contact Commander Burns to figure out what is missing.

In Ops, Kilbride confirms that Alice Morgan contacted the military abuse hotlines to Deeks and Rountree in the boat shed. The people running the hotlines say they take all abuse complaints seriously but there wasn’t enough information to move it to NCIS. The Pentagon invested $1-billion to remedy this situation after past failures. Deeks wonders how much of that money could have been saved if this was a priority from the start. The Admiral is not pleased with Deeks’s statement. He says since Alice didn’t kill her husband, figure out if she knows who did and disconnects.

Looking at Deeks, Rountree asks how much of the story he told Alice was true. “Every word of it,” is Deeks’s reply.

Bertie finished doing laundry though Kensi out of the dryer sheets. Asking for Rosa, Kensi explains that she’s negotiating between Tay and a friend over a disagreement. She also tells Bertie that she doesn’t have to do laundry. Bertie missed doing the laundry. Kensi tries telling her mother-in-law that she and Deeks missed her but Bertie knows better.

Bertie also knows Kensi is feeling a bit overwhelmed by parenthood. Kensi notes that she’s not “technically” Rosa’s parent. Bertie asks Kensi if she loves Rosa and wants to keep her safe. Kensi does on both. Bertie follows up - does Kensi fear she isn’t doing enough even though she’s exhausted from doing too much. “Every single morning.” Bertie doesn’t care about “technically” – Kensi is Rosa’s parent. Kensi spent her entire NCIS career being one step ahead of everyone else. She thought she could do that with being a parent. She couldn’t.

Bertie offers some words of wisdom from her mother about being a parent – it’s like being pecked to death by a chicken. That’s not helpful.

Shyla has news for “Shark Tank” – Rountree. She’s sending video of the three men who took the explosives from the storage unit but the footage is awful. Rountree goes into interrogation to see if Alice knows any of the men. Alice recognizes one of the men – she met him at a wine festival. She remembers the date – it was her birthday. She thought he was doing something nice for her birthday. Obviously not. As Rountree goes to tell Shyla, Alice asks Deeks what happened to his father. Deeks tells her he shot him and two weeks later, he was in jail.

Callen and Shyla return to the office. She gets a call as she returns to Ops, Callen goes to see Sam in the bullpen. They are on a video call with Commander Burns. He assures Callen and Sam that he’s been working with ATF. 15 to 25 pounds of C-4 is missing with a lot of blasting caps and detonation cord. Callen asks abuse complaints about Morgan. Burns did not have enough evidence to move forward. Before Callen and Sam could press him, Shyla needs them in Ops. They quickly end the call but promise to call back.

In Ops, Shyla found Morgan had several bank account Alice Morgan knew nothing about. Several of them received $9,000 deposits in the prior week – a transaction amount just under the amount of money a bank would have to report to Feds. Met World Holdings sent the money. It is owned by an Ivan Parson, who looks like one of the man in grainy video. Met World Holdings is an import/export business – they move fine foods and fine wines. Parson is connected to extremist groups in Ireland, Germany and Indonesia.

The Admiral is looking for a sitrep. Met World Holdings has an unoccupied space in Hollywood. Deeks is getting Alice to a safe house so Callen, Sam and a seven-minutes out Rountree are at the unoccupied space. The Admiral reminds everyone that the job is to get back the explosives without blowing up a city block. The only way LA is going down in flames is if the Admiral has the match.

Callen and Sam move near the building. They can see some shelves of items and a man but he’s not Parsons. Going through the back door, Callen and Sam see Parsons. Sam throws a wine bottle to get one of the men’s attention. Sam quickly takes him out but makes enough noise to get Parsons and a minion to run. Callen tackles the friend but Parsons gets to his vehicle. An arriving Rountree stops him but Parsons throws his bag of explosives in the air and shoots them. That sends Rountree flying but Sam takes down Parsons with ease.

As Parsons is being taken away, Callen tells Sam and Rountree that Morgan wanted to back out of the deal but Parsons already paid for the explosives. Morgan was either scared or greedy. He also wasn’t as tough as he thought he was.

Deeks joins Bertie on the back porch. They share a couple of beers as Bertie asks if he got all the cats out of the trees. Deeks said he did his best. Deeks wants to talk about “Dad”. Bertie isn’t interested in her past. Deeks doesn’t think that’s fair – it is their past. He only wants to know how she made it through. “Vicodin and Sally Jessy Raphael,” is her answer. She doesn’t know.

Bertie explains that Deeks’s father took everything from the two of them, including the person Bertie used to be. But when he was gone, with Deeks’s help, she got that person back. She’s made a lot of mistakes since that in her life but it is her life. Deeks approves.

Kensi and Rosa join Deeks and Bertie on the patio. They’re just back from the mall. Rosa would like to visit San Francisco and Deeks is all in on that. Bertie invites herself – she knows a thruple up in Barstow that can rent then an RV. Deeks is horrified by his mother being in a thruple. Bertie assure him she’s not a part of the thruple, she just knows one.

Anna returns home. She thought they were going to dinner but Callen has a candles and some wine. He also got bagels. He loves Anna and he’d marry her tomorrow. When they get married, he wants to be surrounded by everyone that means everything to them. Arkady and Hetty are part of the package. Anna isn’t happy but Callen explains Hetty has been in his life from the beginning. He can’t get married without her. She has more of the story and he needs her to tell it. If he doesn’t do this, Hetty will always be the other person in the room. He doesn’t need a lot more time but Anna is giving him all the time he needs. She only asks the he tell the truth, even with it is hard, especially when it is hard. He promises he will.

What head canon can be formed from here: While the case of the week wasn’t much, that felt intentional. The guys who stole the explosives were plot points. They weren’t the typical bad guy – they were a bunch of dudes. The hour instead was about family relationships. It started with the Kolcheck-Callen and Blye-Deeks households, moved to Rountree talking about his sister, Sam with his father and then the case of the week.

This was a terrific Deeks episode. Light and goofy dad/husband at home, sad and serious with Alice and later with the Admiral, Rountree and Bertie. There should be a bonus for the person who decided Pamela Reed would work as Deeks’s mom. Just as light and goofy she could be in most of the episode, she was sad and serious near the end. That scene with them alone wasn’t just family, it was two survivors who built themselves the lives they enjoy.

For a program and an NCISVerse that is mostly pro-military, there was a real sense of disgust by Deeks and disappoint/disgust late in the episode by the Admiral over the handling of Alice’s abuse case.

Loved the explosion that sent Rountree flying – that’s the show I know and love.

Episode number: Episode 307 overall, the fifth episode of season 14.

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