#investigation still pending!

[the-sound-of-her-wings]

USFS and SafeSport I am in your walls

[transgendz]

This goal has been met! Anything else received will go towards food, which we are out of, but ultimately simply is not as important as rent.

This is going to be short bc i already have a post up explaining this situation, but I started having seizures, which led to medical costs I couldn't handle bc I have an autoimmune disorder that's been going untreated for years. I got the appts covered bc of an extremely generous friend on here, and had some additional medication costs which I thankfully had enough for. I've been applying to at least 10 jobs a day and had tons of interviews. I'm going through interviews and assessments for several jobs (got more scheduled for tomorrow) Then my card got stolen, and now I am screwed as far as rent goes, even if one of these jobs comes through like today we will still fall short because rent is due on the 1st and we don't get a grace period. I am trying to get the money that was taken when my card was stolen back, but I have been told to wait to hear back after submitting all the details, and have yet to hear back.

Dm me for proof or more details. I will do art for anyone who helps with this and you can commission me at my art blog @theartistrans I just desperately need to get rent. My roommates and I have a huge food garden planted and are working towards self-sufficiency, which we have no hope of if we can't pay rent.

PP -- $C -- V -- kofi

$45/$650

[abandoned-as-mustard]

i procrastinated for a week on applying for this job but now i finally have, can’t help but think i’d have a much better chance if i’d actually forced myself to edit my cover letter sooner. oh well.

[theflyindutchwoman]

One thing that stood out to me during this episode is how the camerawork was used to highlight Lucy's feeling of isolation. Particularly during the shooting in the alley and at the hospital. In these two scenes, she is seen mostly on her own, separated from everyone. And because of this, it is so easy to relate to her sense of anguish and pain. But at the same time, the camera zooms in on the team. When Lucy is in the alley, we can see how worried Angela and Nyla are. But Lucy can't. When she goes down, we can see the look of horror and fear on their faces. But Lucy can't. And then there's the perfect symbol of her radio being shot down. Her mean of communication with her team is broken, she has to rely on signs. And that's a perfect metaphor. So when Nyla compliments Lucy's ingenuity, we're the only ones who can hear it. Lucy can't. And then, there's the hospital scene where we progressively see Nolan, Bailey, Aaron and Celina showing up for Lucy. But she can't see that because she is in another room, because she has to be isolated pending IA investigation. When Grey asks Wesley how she's holding up, she can't hear that. She can only see the side glances. She is not even technically alone, there's a guard there with her in the room but he can't talk to her. We don't even know if they know each other. The way the camerawork showed the duality of this story is so important. Lucy is technically not alone and yet, you can still feel that sense of isolation. Because it looked like only Tim was there to comfort her. Making him her only lifeline at the moment. And that is going to make the next part even more heartbreaking when he disappears without telling her.

[sayruq]

The UK government has suspended the Civil Service Muslim Network for being anti Israel

The Civil Service Muslim Network has suspended its activities pending an investigation after reports that it had hosted events during which speakers had encouraged officials to “lobby” colleagues to change the government’s policy on the conflict in Gaza. Deputy prime minister Oliver Dowden said he had ordered an immediate suspension of the network after The Times was handed a memo with the details of several webinars it has held to discuss the government’s stance on Israel and Gaza. The convenor of one of the webinars in December, who the newspaper said could not be named for legal reasons but works in the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, described the war in Gaza as a “fight between good and evil”, implying that Israel was on the side of evil. UK government policy is that Israel “has the right to defend itself under international law” following the attack by Hamas and its kidnap of Israeli hostages on 7 October. During one event, an official allegedly claimed that the “Israel lobby” has an “insidious influence” on British politics, and that the mainstream media is “biased” and “full of lies”.

A convener was quoted as encouraging staff to raise the issue in one-on-one meetings with their line managers, saying: “You make just as much of the same impact – if not more, because you can do it consistently – by saying it indirectly; ie. addressing your mental health, how you’re feeling, right? One-to-one check-in with your manager, ‘How are you?’ ‘You know what, I saw some footage on my phone’, or this or that sort of language, you know, a baby’s head blown off, or a family under the rubble and they’re all dead, or children in a mass grave. Things like this, right? People know who’s responsible for that. You don’t have to say, ‘I condemn this people, this nation state, who’s done this’. People know.” The convener added: “If you want to say that, in a team meeting, ‘sorry if I’m not with it today, because I just saw this’, or ‘this is really getting to me’. Then you’re reaching your team, you’re reaching your manager, and you’re raising your voice still. You’re not doing it recklessly. You’re doing it from a mental-health perspective, because that’s the lens you want to approach it from, a wellbeing perspective, right?” The convenor said staff who raised the conflict as a mental-health issue would not face disciplinary action “because you’re not even condemning who’s right or wrong here, you’re just talking about the human toll”.

[wardenparker]

If You Were Mine, pt 1

Javier Peña x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature. But this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.8k   Warnings: Mentions of sex work, smoking, food/alcohol, mentions of past Steve x reader, angst, yearning, the love in requited but they’re both idiots, there’s only one bed, Chucho is the best, this fic has a cockblocking dog and I’m ecstatic about it. Summary: When you and Javi are both suspended and deported from Colombia pending investigation, the truth about what got you into trouble and the onus of trying to decide what comes next hangs over you like a black cloud. Out of guilt - and maybe something else - Javi invites you to stay at the ranch with him while you wait for your hearings. And that’s when things start to get more complicated. Notes: Part one of two! I told Keri that I wanted to write a little wedding date one shot and it got wildly out of hand. And I’m so glad it did, because I love these two idiots.

“So, uh, call me when you land.” Steve Murphy looks decided unhappy, maybe a little nervous as he looks between you and Javi. It’s all out in the open now, the secret spilled, but he’s still not sure how his other partner feels about the revelation that had been the nail in the coffin for sending you back to the States. “Gonna miss you both.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” What had passed between you and Steve didn’t damage your friendship with him or change your working relationship in any way, although it had threatened to. Now, though? Now that everyone knows? You had no work at all. “I’ll let you know where I end up. Don’t know how long it will take me to get back on my feet.”

Guilt is a heavy thing, weighing around Javi’s neck as he shuffles and shifts his bag on his shoulder. You’ve been suspended indefinitely and he doesn’t know what that means for you. Although there’s a long flight back to Miami to talk about it.

The time is ticking by interminably slowly, but you swallow and give Steve a tight, brief hug. “We should go.” You’re on the same flight, so there’s no escaping having to talk to Javier, but you’re not looking forward to it. The whole thing has been a whirlwind.

Javi watches you hug Steve, wondering if there was anything there beyond what had been said. A drunken, sad night where partners decided to fall into bed together. The pang of jealousy is surprising and unwanted.

"Call me when you get back to Texas?" Steve claps Javi on the back and clears his throat, holding back the fact that he's actually pretty fucking emotional about the whole thing. Both of his partners being ejected from the country in one fell swoop isn't a good situation to be in.

“Get the bastard.” Regret laces his words, hating that he had worked so fucking hard and done so much only to be kicked off the team here at the end. He can feel that it’s close, Escobar is backed into a corner.

"Promise." One more pat to his shoulder and Steve is stepping back to shove his hands in his pockets. Colombia is going to be a hell of a lot more lonely without you and Javi here to keep him sane. Or, at least, mutually insane.

The call to board the plane comes over the airport speakers and Javi looks at you. “Looks like that’s us.” He murmurs, hating how defeated you look.

One more round of goodbyes and you’re picking up your purse to hand your ticket to the gate agent. You and Javi have seats right next to each other because the secretary who booked them had thought she was being nice, but the fact that you’ll have hours to talk might not be the best thing in the world. You don’t know yet. There’s a lot Javi doesn’t know about you still – after all, you’d only been in Colombia for a year. Less time even than Steve.

There’s a certain familiarity with storing the bags, getting settled into a seat. You are on the inside seat with Javier sitting on the aisle; but he wonders if you are comfortable with that. “Do you want to swap seats? Or are you good being by the window?”

"I like the window." It's a kind of meditation, but you don't know if he would understand that or not. "Unless..." You glance up at him from your place a few feet away. "Did you want it? I can deal with the aisle."

“No.” He shakes his head and steps back to allow you to move into the seat. “I’ll put your bag up.”

"Thanks." Your oversized tote bag goes to him and you keep only a book for yourself, knowing you won't be able to concentrate on much. The two of you settle into your seats as the other passengers file in and settle down around you. "So you're going back to Texas?" It's what Steve had said, so you figure it must be the case.

“Yeah.” Javi taps his fingers, wishing he could smoke but they had stopped that years ago. “Where are you headed?”

"I'll find a hotel when we get to Miami." There's nothing for you to go home to even if you did go back to your hometown, so you'll have to figure out how to start fresh. Your job experience is intensely specialized, but you'll figure something out.

“You—I’m sure they will call you back to D.C.” he offers quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to let you go. It’ll probably be some bullshit slap on the wrist.”

"Then I guess I'll find a place in DC if they decide not to kick me out on my ass." You shake your head and sit back, shrugging a little when you look over at him. "There's no guarantees in life, Jav. You know that."

“Give it a month.” He predicts with a very guilty conscience. Barely able to look at you. “You don’t want to go home?” He asks. “Visit with your folks?”

"Can't." The fact that he can't even meet your eyes stings more than it should, and you look out the window at the runway instead. "Sister says I'm ungrateful for not dropping everything and coming home when our Mom died, and Dad left when I was a kid. So a heartwarming family reunion isn't exactly in the cards."

“I’m sorry.” He winces slightly and swallows. “That’s– that's shitty. Not the welcome home I guess you imagined.”

"I kinda didn't think I'd be going back at all," you admit with another half-hearted shrug. "At least...if I did it would either be with a job or in a bag, ya know?"

A real possibility in the line of work that you’ve chosen. He musters the courage to finally meet your eyes. “Why did you do it?”

"Which?" The hammer had come down on you for two reasons, but he hadn't known about either of them. "Why did I get drunk and sloppy, or why did I get sentimental?"

“Whatever it was that made them send you home.” He doesn’t believe it’s all because of fucking Steve. There’s something else that he hasn’t been told.

"I'm surprised we got separate meetings, honestly." Sitting back, you tilt your head at him and wish like hell that you could still have a cigarette on an airplane. Or that they would hurry up and start serving alcohol already. "I went to Judy and Don Berna and tried to bargain for your safety," you tell him quietly. "After you told me...about everything. When it was getting bad. And Judy threw me under the bus right along with you." It had been an impulsive move, trying desperately to get Javi a grasp of freedom after getting in bed with Los Pepes, but it had ended up just backfiring spectacularly and getting both of you kicked out of the country instead. Suspended pending investigation, and then they had tacked on the charge of interdepartmental fraternization to boot. Steve got a slap on the wrist. You got a plane ticket.

“Fuck.” Javi squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. Regret souring in his stomach and he desperately wishes he had a whiskey, or something to drink. “You shouldn’t have risked your career for me.” He responds, voice raspy with unspoken emotions. “I’m not worth that.”

"Too late now." He doesn't need to know why you did it. That you had developed feelings for him slowly but surely over the course of the year you had worked together and had been trying to talk yourself out of it unsuccessfully since you know he has no interest in you. "I did what I thought was right. It's not your fault that it bit me in the ass."

The doors to the plane close and Javi leans back in his seat. “Shit.” He hisses, shaking his head. “I'm sorry.”

"It's not your fault, Jav." It isn't. Not really. He didn't ask you to try to help him or involve you in any of the dealings with Los Pepes. In fact, he had actively warned you against it. "I made my decision and now I'm living with the consequences."

“I’m sorry I dragged you into my shit.” He slides his hand over his face and sighs, closing his eyes as the weight of the fallout from his mistakes bleakly shoves themselves into his face again.

"We're both adults, you didn't drag me into anything." Your own stupid sentimentality did that, but he doesn't need to know it. He doesn't need to know the details. "I'll find something new. Get back on my feet. The DEA isn't the end of the line for me."

“Come to Texas with me.” The offer pops out of his mouth, but in reality, it’s a good idea. It's not like there isn’t room at his Pop’s and that way you aren’t spending money you don’t need to until the DEA is done punishing you.

"You don't have to do that." When you look back up at him he looks surprised to even have said it and the small spark of hope that he might have meant it fizzles immediately. "Pity is worse than hatred, ya know."

“It’s not pity.” He immediately argues. “I just hadn’t – it’s a good idea.” He shifts slightly and turns in his seat to face you. “The ranch isn’t luxurious, but it’s comfortable.” For him, it’s home. “Pop has a spare bedroom that is never used. He’d probably be grateful to have more than my sullen ass to talk to.”

It's not that you don't want to say yes. To spend time with him or at least around him. To get to know his family and see where he's from. The problem is that you want to do those things for all the wrong reasons. "I don't know what help I'll be," you warn him, like reminding him that you grew up in a very different way than he did might somehow deter him. "But..." But you could have just a little more time with him before never seeing him again. You deflate a little, knowing that your only other option is throwing money at a hotel for a while. It's not like you can just knock on Connie Murphy's door when you get to Miami – she certainly won't want to see you. "If you don't think your father would mind too much? I'll stay out of both your hair."

“Nah, he won’t mind at all.” Javi promises. He had too many cousins or friends stay over when he was younger for the elder Peña to care about his house being used as a way station. “I’ll give him a ring when we land in Miami.” He promises. “Just so you know it’s okay.”

"Okay." Suddenly you wish you had a drink even more. More time spent with your partner – former partner? – before you let go of him altogether might be more than you bargained for. But still, you don't think you could pass up the chance. Even just a few more days. "As long as it's okay with your dad."

He relaxes slightly, shooting you a small, rare grin. “Okay.” He nods, feeling better about the entire situation. He wouldn’t want to leave you in Miami by yourself even if he knows you are more than capable. Hell, you’re a better agent than him and Steve, but he would still feel uneasy about it.

******

The flights are long, and you end up buying a new book in Miami just to have something to read on the way to Texas. Being back stateside isn't the triumphant return that Javier wanted it to be and his father didn't seem fazed at all by the idea of him bringing someone back to the ranch so you had nodded gratefully. By the time you land at Laredo International Airport you feel about ready to drop but Javi seems as near to relieved as you've seen him in months.

“I need a fucking cigarette.” The non-smoking rule in the airport had killed him, the idea that you couldn’t light up at the restaurants in the States had been irritating and he anxiously waits for his checked bag so he can hopefully get one before his dad shows up.

"You and me both." At least you'd been able to drink on the flights. A steady stream of scotch had kept both of you from getting too irritable.

He spots your bag first, a hideous maroon color that he had teased you about, but it’s handy for spotting it as the conveyor belt rolls around. Stepping forward, he grabs it and turns back to you. “That all you checked?”

"Yeah." You shoulder the bag before he can tease you about the color again and shrug. "Murphy said he'd ship me the rest of my shit if they decide to fire me." Technically you're just under investigation, but anything could happen. "It's boxed up at his place for now."

Javi nods, frowning slightly as he waits for his own bag. Wondering what prompted you to sleep with Steve. Not that it was his business, but you never seemed like you were interested.

"Here." His nondescript black bag swings around the carousel and you nab it for him, not mentioning that the reason you have such an awful colored bag is so you can actually recognize it. His stupid black bag had probably passed by you four times before you had even recognized it. "We, uh...we're waiting for your father to pick us up?" Surely that's enough time for a cigarette, isn't it?

“Yeah.” Javi guides you towards the revolving door and sighs as soon as the warm night air hits him. The airport was artificially freezing. “He should be here soon.”

"Is it bad that the heat is actually comforting?" Colombia might have varying climates, but you had gotten used to the damp heat of the jungles and busy sunshine of the city. "The office is always way too fucking cold."

“Why do you think I kept a jacket around?” He huffs with a grin, fishing in his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. When he finds it, he pulls out the lighter and offers you the pack to take one if you want it.

Humming in thanks, you take a cigarette from the pack and easily lean forward so he can light it after he does his own. It's a practiced ritual, something the two of you have done a hundred or a thousand times before, and a calming one. The air is warm here but it's dry, and seeing that it's the end of the day you can tell it's going to start cooling off quickly. "So this is where you grew up, huh? The original hunting grounds, so to speak?"

He blows out the first, satisfying puff of tobacco and nicotine and chuckles. “You could say that.” He hums, looking out to watch as the last plane of the night takes off. Watching the blinking lights lift into the sky. “Got into a lot of shit around here.”

"I bet." It isn't hard to imagine him as a charming trouble-maker of a teen, talking circles around the adults in his life and pitching that signature Peña smile at anyone with a grudge. "A whole line of swooning country girls left behind you when you took off for bigger things." It wouldn't be that different from all the swooning women he had left behind in Colombia. After all, he has no idea that he brought one of them with him.

“One very bitter, jilted fiancée.” Javi confesses. He had told Steve about Lorraine but he hadn’t said anything to you about her. It had seemed wrong for some reason.

"No." You practically choke on an inhale of smoke and whirl around to look at him instead of watching the parking lot. "You were engaged?"

“Yeah.” Javi admits it wasn’t his finest moment, leaving her at the altar but it was better than the alternative. “I was.”

It casts things in a different light, to think of him that way, but you nod and pretend that you don't have a single care about it in the world. When you had thought of him as having no interest in marriage before, that had been a presumption based on what you had seen. Now, it seemed to have slightly more concrete evidence to support it. "She doesn't still live around here, does she?"

“Think so.” He rolls his eyes slightly. “Her husband Randy is some kind of investment banker.” He scoffs, never having much use for them. They are right up there with used car salesmen and pimps.

"Randy?" You snort at the name, letting it conjure images of either an idiot in a garish suit or else that actor whose last name you always forget from National Lampoon. "Sounds like she traded pretty far down. Might be glad to see you in spite of the break up." Imagining him with just about anyone hurts at this point, why not add insult to your own injury by picturing him getting back together with his ex?

“Doubt it.” He eyes you, waiting to see your reaction. “Left her at the altar with about a hundred of our friends and family.”

"Madre de Dios, Javi!" The Spanish curses are far more fun to use and roll off the tongue more often after having spent so much time in Colombia, and when you swerve to look at him with your cigarette hanging out of your mouth you nearly punch him instead of just shoving him in the arm. Your usual playfulness comes out when you're surprised, apparently. Even if that surprise is tempered with a bad situation. "That woman is gonna murder you if she ever sees you again!"

He shrugs, having accepted that as his fate a long time ago. “She’s moved on, got two kids with her husband. Better with him than me.”

"God forbid the great Casanova himself, Javier Peña, should ever settle down." You nearly huff when you roll your eyes, but a truck in the distance saves you the trouble. "Looks like your dad is here."

He doesn’t know why that comment makes him frown, but he tosses down his cigarette and grinds it under his heel. Annoyed that your off hand teasing has him defensive. “Can't wait to take a shower.”

"Can't wait to sleep without worrying about getting shot or kidnapped," you gripe before painting a smile onto your face. Is your work important? Of course it is. But they took it away from you and branded you the office slut when that title clearly already belonged to someone else, so you'll take whatever comforts you can get at the moment.

He can agree with that, although he never slept well anyway. There was too much on his mind in a constant stream of worry and regret. The pick up truck rolls to a stop and Javi steps forward to open the door. “Pop.” He greets his dad and then turns towards you for a proper introduction. Telling his father your name and that you are his partner, he looks back at you. “Chucho Peña.” He flashes a small grin. “Just call him Pop.”

“It’s really nice to meet you.” Chucho is jovial and friendly, offering you a hug immediately and getting borderline emotional to see his son after you-can-only-guess how long. He hushes you when you try to thank him, ushering you into the truck instead and promising you that he’s glad to have the company.

It doesn’t take long for bags to be thrown into the bed and for the three of you to be loaded up in the truck. “Thanks for picking us up, pop.” Javi knows he could have rented a car, but he doubts the counter is even open at this time of night and the one taxi service that Laredo has is notorious for not answering the phone after 10pm.

“Mijito, I’m not going to leave a beautiful woman stranded.” The elder Peña aims a wink at you and chuckles as he turns over the truck’s engine. “It’s been far too long since we had a face this lovely at home.”

His brows arch up at the flirtatiousness of his father. For a moment, it’s the perfect example of where Javi learned his smooth moves.

“Don’t look so shocked.” Chucho laughs when his son tilts his head and laughs straight from his belly to see your amusement when you snicker on the bench seat next to him. “Your mamá was much too good for me. I had to get her to stick around somehow.”

“Don’t believe a single second of that surprise on his face,” you tell the older man, still laughing. “The flirting is genetic in Peñas, apparently.” Not that he ever aimed it at you. As his partner you might as well have been completely sexless to Javi - a fact which bothered you far more than you would like to admit.

Chucho chuckles again and looks over at you and his son. He’s surprised that Javi had finally brought someone home. “Then I taught him well.” He teases.

The bench seat of Chucho’s truck keeps you tucked neatly in between the Peña boys for the drive home, and the warm air from outside the truck swirls around each of you while the radio plays ranchera and Javier’s father gives you both a rundown of how things are running on the ranch these days. The ride isn’t long, but it’s enough for Javi to get updates on some family members and such, and to find out that his dad’s got a new pair of dogs that he’s doting on.

“That sounds good.” Javi’s never been opposed to dogs and he knows that Chucho has been lonely the last few years. He hadn’t been able to come home often.

"They tend to get up early," he warns his son, laughing at the idea of his puppies waking Javier up when he knows his only boy is not a morning person at all. "Just so you know."

“Great.” Javi rolls his eyes and sighs. Not even one day to sleep in. “Don’t shoot the dogs when they wake me up, got it.”

“We’ll train them to make your coffee,” you tease, knowing that Javi before caffeine and nicotine is barely Javi at all.

“You’re worse than I am.” Javi reminds you with a grunt. He always treads warily before 9am around you.

“I am not!” The tease does make you laugh, though, and you end up shrugging in between the Peña men. “Maybe a little.”

Chucho grins, admiring that you have no issue with Javi’s sarcastic sense of humor. You’re good for his boy, he can tell.

When you pull up to the house it’s smaller than you expected at first but it’s obvious that the ranch house rambles on. Rather than being tall it is long, a sprawling thing that seems to carry on to room after room instead of room on top of room. It’s welcoming and homey, and the two dogs out front are most definitely the puppies that Chucho had talked about on the way here.

“Home sweet home.” Javi is conflicted, opening the door to the truck and stepping out. He turns towards you and reaches for your handbag so you can climb out.

“And with playmates!” The dogs perk up immediately upon seeing two new people, and rush over to you with tails wagging and tongues lolling from happy mouths. “Hi boys!” Without hesitation you’re on your knees in the dirt giving them all the pets and cuddles they could possibly want.

Raising his brow, Javi’s surprised at your enthusiasm for the dogs. Not like there was much time for animals in Colombia. “She’s going to fit right in.” Chucho hums in approval, getting the bags out of the bed of the truck.

“Shit, let me get those, Pop.” Javi hurries around the truck to take them from his father.

“Leave mine, Jav.” Scattering the dogs’ fur with kisses, you flash both men a smile before reaching to take your suitcase from Javi. “Sorry, I just…I grew up around dogs and I miss them like hell.”

“I’ve got it.” He insists, “The bedroom is going to be the first door on the left.” He tells you, imagining that you would be in the ‘guest bedroom’ rather than the old room Javi had grown up in.

“Second.” Chucho turns halfway to the horse with confusion on his face. “Have you forgotten where your room is?”

“No,” Javi shakes his head, now confused himself. “I thought you would put her in the spare bedroom.”

“Mijo…” The elder Peña furrows his brow in confusion. “Why would I put your girlfriend in a different room? You’re not sixteen anymore.”

Javi’s eyes widen, realizing the mistake his father had made. He thinks you are with Javi. That he’s brought you home to meet. “Pop—”

“Danny is getting married in a couple of weeks.” Chucho remembers suddenly. “I told him that you will be bringing your girl.”

“I don’t think that’s—” Standing up fully, you look between both men and clear your throat awkwardly. Javier’s father has made the jump - the assumption - that partner meant in business and in pleasure, and you’re the only woman in the world he hasn’t tried to fuck. “It’s not…” You should never have come here…

“Don’t worry.” Chucho doesn’t want to embarrass you; but he wants you to know it’s okay. “The boy has been charming girls into his bed since he was sixteen, I know what he gets up to. But he’s never really been one to bring someone home, so you’re special.”

“Less special than you think I am.” You mutter under your breath, looking to Javier for help in clarifying the situation without being rude.

“Pop…” Javi frowns slightly. “I think she’d be more comfortable with her own space. She didn’t, we didn’t live together.”

“The second bedroom is basically a junk closet,” Chucho admits, looking a little sheepish. “I didn’t think you would be needing it.”

Shit. Javi knows you aren’t happy but he can talk about the sleeping arrangements when his father isn’t listening. “Okay.” He agrees, pointing you down the hall. “Last door on the left.”

Standing in that room with him ten minutes later is more awkward than the first time you had to go to a brothel with him in Medellín, finding that he knew the name of every girl there and discovering exactly how jealous that made you. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” you tell him without hesitation.

“Don’t be stupid.” Javi shakes his head. “We can share. Or I’ll sleep on the couch if that makes you uncomfortable.” There is no way he would let you sleep on the floor when you are a guest in his house. Or, technically, his Pop’s house.

“I’m not stupid.” Even if he doesn’t mean it, the offensive comment does make you bristle and you frown. “And I’m not uncomfortable.” Daydreaming is what you’ll be, but you’ll be damned if he finds that out. “Fine. We’ll just let your Pops think we’re sleeping together, if that’s what you would prefer.”

“He already thinks we are sleeping together, muñeca.” He reminds you, tossing his bag down on the bed and rubbing his neck. It’s awkward and he doesn’t want to think about why his father would think he was sleeping with you. “We are adults. It’s a big enough bed to share.” It’s not a king like his bed in Colombia, but he had shared a queen-sized bed with plenty of women before.

“Just tell me you don’t kick or talk in your sleep or anything.” You’ll just stay on one far edge of the mattress and find someplace else to stay ASAP. That’s all there is to it, you tell yourself firmly.

“Not that I know of.” No one has told him about shit like that, but it’s been awhile since he’s slept beside a woman. “I’ll even wear underwear to bed.”

“How noble of you.” You huff and roll your eyes.

“If you don’t care…” he chuckles quietly, wondering if you're annoyed or embarrassed.

“Poke me with that thing in the middle of the night and you’re gonna wake up without it.” Better that he should never know what your real reaction to his cock would be. Let him think you don’t want him like he doesn’t want you.

Javi frowns and looks away. “Don’t worry about that.” He grumbles, never happy with the idea of losing his manhood.

“Fine then.” Even with knowing that he isn’t interested in you, it still stings when he assures you that you are safe from his attention. Why are you the one woman Javier Peña won’t put his dick near and why do you still want him to so badly? It’s like a sick joke from the universe.

He can tell you aren’t happy with the current arrangement and he knows that he will be busting his ass to make sure the spare bedroom gets cleaned out. “It’s late.” He bites his lip. “I’ll shower and you can…settle in.”

“I shower in the morning.” He knows that. You’ve had plenty of long stake outs and hikes through the jungle and fuck only knows what else — shared hotel rooms where Steve always took the pull out couch and gave you the second bed. He knows you shower in the morning. But still, when you open your bag to pull out clean pajamas and your toothbrush, you pause. “Unless that would weird you out? Some people think it’s gross to sleep on clean sheets without showering. And it’s…it’s your bed.”

“Whatever you want to do, muñeca.” Javi murmurs quietly. He tries not to think about you in a shower, focusing on unzipping his own bag to pull out clothes. It’s late, so any unpacking would need to wait until tomorrow.

“Tomorrow, then.” You have a feeling you’re going to need a cold shower after sleeping next to him anyway. “And I’ll write your dad a check for having to call long distance. But I promised Steve I’d check in.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He shakes his head and turns to look at you with clean boxers and his toiletry bag in his hand. “I’ll pay the long distance bill. Phone is in the kitchen.”

“We’ll figure it out later.” You tell him with a shrug, not wanting to think about Javi naked or Javi wet. Or Javi all clean and shiny crawling into bed with you. You’re never going to get any sleep tonight. “Now go so I can put my pajamas on. I’m still exhausted from that kid screaming all the way from Miami to here.”

“Yeah,” Javi winces. “The kid had a set of lungs on them.” He motions towards the bed. “Take whatever side you want.” He offers. “Not picky.”

The awkwardness of changing your clothes in Javier Peña's childhood bedroom is very real, but you stack your things up neatly in one corner and slip under the crisp, clean covers and put your head on one of his pillows without letting yourself wonder too often how many girls were in this bed before you. And for very different reasons.

He doesn't take too long in the shower, even though he's tempted to jerk off. Knowing that it will be awkward if he wakes up with his cock pressed against your ass. It's not like you would want that. You wanted Steve. Once clean, he steps out of the shower and towels off, swiping the deodorant under his arms and slipping on a pair of rarely used boxers to sleep in. It was better than sleeping naked, like he normally does.

Javi returns to you leaning half out of the bed petting one of his father's dogs that had nudged its way into the room while he was showering, and you're giggling like an idiot with all awkwardness forgotten at the way the sweet cattle dog is giddy to be getting so much attention.

Javi shakes his head, tossing his dirty clothes into the basket that is near the closet door and he does double back to open the door to the hallway so the pup can leave again. "Why do I feel like the dog's gonna end up in the bed?" He asks.

"He's a good boy," you insist with the most dedicated talking to a puppy voice you can possibly manage.

He rolls his eyes, but it's not in annoyance. Even offering to pet the pup when he comes over to curiously sniff Javi before rejecting his affections to return to the woman who is just basking in his presence. "I'm sure he is."

"You gonna come snuggle up with us, MacGyver?" Javi's father has a habit of naming his dogs after television characters, and these two are no exceptions. MacGyver the cattle dog jumps excitedly before bounding up onto the bed and wiggling right up next to you. "See, Jav? He's a sweet baby."

He sighs, but doesn't protest as the dog wiggles happily and licks you repeatedly as you giggle. You laughing and enjoying doggy kisses is much preferred over the depressed moping that had come with your suspension. He doesn't blame you, his moping just isn't as obvious. "The 'sweet baby' better not hog the bed." He grunts, lifting the covers to get in beside you. Maybe having the dog between the two of you would be a good thing.

"He won't," you promise, even though you have no idea what this dog's sleeping habits are like. You do know that getting cuddles from a dog is the best and happiest you've felt in months, so you're just going to accept it and let the good boy snuggle up to you. "See? He's my snuggle buddy."

“I see that.” It’s impossible to be jealous of a dog and Javi isn’t that ridiculous. His watch and wallet set down on the nightstand, he sits up in the bed and reaches down to pat him a few times and scratch behind his ears.

MacGyver might be the happiest dog in the world right now, and you laugh again before settling down. Tucked down under the blanket with a sweet dog between you and some distance from everything that has happened today, things don't seem quite as helpless as they did this morning. "Thanks for this." As ridiculous as everything is, it's thanks to Javi that you have a place to sleep tonight and a soft place to land. It's not his fault that sleeping in the same bed as him is your own personal hell.

“No problem.” Javi nods and then thinks about something. Hopping out of the bed. “I’m going to get some water.” He tells you. “Want some? So you aren’t searching in the middle of the night?”

"Sure. Thanks." As long as he's offering, you're not going to turn it down. Especially since a tour of the house was waiting for the morning.

“Be right back.” Javi disappears down the dark hallway, sure of his footing and the layout of the house he had been born and raised in.

The light in the kitchen at the end of the hallway is still on, illuminating the large room where Javier's father is babysitting a pot of milk on the stove with Matlock halfway through destroying a chew toy at his feet. "Javi?" He barely turns around. "Need something, mijo?"

“Getting some water.” He knows his Pop has a problem sleeping most nights. It’s gotten worse since his mamá passed, the warm milk helping the older man settle down. “Don’t want her trying to find the kitchen in the dark and tripping.”

"Probably for the best," Chucho chuckles. "Can't find where MacGyver went, she might trip over him in the night."

“Dog’s curled up to her like they are best friends.” He snorts, walking over to the cabinet next to the sink where the chipped glasses from his childhood still sit on the shelves.

"Well, damn." That makes him laugh a little harder, and he ends up leaning back on the counter a little with a contented sigh. "Might be for the best." He can't resist needling his son a little. "Keeps the moaning to a minimum if there's a dog in the way."

“Pop.” Javi groans, feeling like he’s fucking fifteen again, being teased about Mary Louise from his class. Of course his dad had known about the groping and experimenting in his barns after school, but there’s no chance of moaning with you.

"I'm not wagging a finger at you, mijo, I just don't want to be woken up in the middle of the night." He laughs, taking his pan off the stove to pour its contents into a mug. Normally he carries it back to his room to sip while he reads, but it's so nice to have his son in the house again. "She seems nice," Chucho commends. "And she's a knockout, to boot."

Javi grunts, aware of how attractive you are. He moves over to the sink and fills the glasses halfway with cool well water. “She’s a good woman.”

"Hell of a lot sweeter than that Lorraine." Chucho remarks sharply, but he shrugs immediately after. "But that's just a first impression. I'll get to know her well enough soon. Y'all stay as long as you want or need to. It's nice to have life in the house again."

“Thanks Pop.” He means that. Both of you need a place to lay low and rest. Once he gets you into your own bedroom, the uneasiness will pass. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

"Night, son." The nod Chucho gives Javier as he ambles from the room comes with a pat on the younger man's shoulder, and soon enough Javi's father has disappeared out of sight with Matlock right at his heels.

Javi sighs, carrying the two glasses of water to the bedroom and contemplates going outside for one last smoke. Pop doesn’t condone smoking in the house, a rule set by his late wife and Javi respects it. In the end, it’s the hassle of brushing his teeth again so he doesn’t accidentally breathe cigarette breath into your face if he rolls over during the night, that convinces him not to. “You two look comfortable.” The dog is halfway sprawled over you, greedy for your pets and praise like he was a lap dog.

“I miss having a dog,” you admit with a sheepish, sleepy grin.

He hands you the water for your side and nods. “Grew up with dogs out here.” He knows that it’s common, but there hasn’t been time for a pet with the work in Colombia.

Even a single sip of the cold water is refreshing, and you put the glass down on the nightstand beside you with a hum. “There were always a lot of animals around when I was growing up. Dogs, cats, the horses, a goat for a while, a bunch of chickens…” You shrug a little and settle down under the covers with the dog still sprawled out over you. “Guess I missed it more than I thought.”

“Goats are funny things.” Javi chuckles as he gets back into the bed. The door is still open to let the dog out when he wants but he’s not worried about it. “We used to have some that would fall out, stiff as a corpse.”

“We had one that did that whenever my sister got near it. Funniest fucking thing in the world, it made her so mad.” The memory makes you giggle a little, but you’re also pretty punchy from being tired and upset all day, so you scratch lazily behind MacGyver’s ear and blow out a breath. “We should get some sleep.”

“We should.” Javi pushes down and twists his body so he can turn off the bedside lamp and plunge the room into darkness. “I know you are tired, muñeca.” He murmurs as he wonders how long it will take him to fall asleep beside you.

“Mmm.” You are, but you doubt you’ll do anything tonight but pet the dog and stare at the wall. His age-old habit of calling you ‘doll’ seems so much more intimate when it’s said in a shared bed and you can’t do anything about it. Masturbating four inches away from him on the same mattress is out of the question. “Night, Jav.”

“Night.” Javi shifts, settling into the bed and sighing softly, tucking his arm behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. The next few days until that room can be cleaned out will be interesting.

******

The most interesting part, unfortunately, was finding out that the old guest room bed hidden underneath ten years of clutter was broken in two places, making it completely unusable. After more than a week of pulling things out of that room, you and Javier had stood in dusty clothes and looked down at the frame in defeat, deciding to deal with it when you got back from your hearings in Washington, which would begin after the next weekend. A few more days in that bed together with the dog between you wouldn’t kill you — although you were increasingly frustrated at this point — and you would be in DC for however long they saw necessary. After that? After that you would know if you were headed back to Colombia or another field office. Or if you still had a job at all.

“At least we have Danny’s wedding this weekend.” It will be an opportunity to see a lot of family, although there has been a steady stream of visitors to the ranch after word got out that Javi was home.

“Right.” Wincing slightly, you nod and sit back in the chair you parked yourself in when MacGyver came bounding into the house to demand attention. “I should probably make sure I have something other than jeans to wear to that.” The idea of shopping for Javi’s cousin’s wedding is vaguely outlandish, but you’re not sure you have much of anything in your bag from Colombia that would be appropriate.

Javi chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m wearing jeans, I don’t think you’d be out of place.” He honestly doesn’t know if he’s ever seen you in a dress outside of work.

“I think the ghost of my granny would rise up and smack me upside the head if I wore jeans to a wedding.” You laugh at the image and sigh, pushing up from your seat. “C’mon, sweet boy,” you coax the dog. “Let’s go see what’s left in that suitcase that I haven’t unpacked.” Over your shoulder, you throw Javier a familiar smile. “Maybe I have something from that undercover stint I did a couple of months ago.”

His brows rise and he stares after you for a moment. That undercover stint had not been family friendly and he had tried so hard to ignore how good you looked.

“What?” When Javi’s reaction is the opposite of what you were expecting, you stop halfway down the hallway and turn. “Too inappropriate? I might not even have anything with me, anyway.”

“It was…a nice dress.” He comments, shaking his head. “It will look good.” You would be the sexiest woman there, though that wouldn’t be hard when everyone else is either family or lifelong friends. His problem is that every person there believes that you are his and he will be fielding ribald jokes all day.

“Wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed to be seen with me.” It picks at you in a way you haven't expected, that he has just let everyone believe you’re together. Even Chucho is still convinced of it and at this point there is probably no telling him otherwise. Every subsequent night you spend in his son’s bed is proof to him, even if you sleep with the door cracked open and the dog between you, and have never shared physical affection in any way.

“Never be embarrassed about being seen with you.” He frowns, wondering where that comment came from. You’re a good looking woman and know that. You got hit on all the time, the men around the embassy and the members of the Bloc. You are probably the one embarrassed to be seen with him. “You call Steve?”

“Yeah.” It’s awful when he bristles at you like a cat with its fur standing on end, but since you have no clue what you did to deserve it this time, you just turn into his room to look at what’s left in your suitcase. “He’s gonna hang on to my stuff until I know if they’re transferring me or outright firing me.”

“I’m sure he misses you.” The close proximity to you is starting to gnaw at him. The ache in his cock matches the hollowness in his heart. Reminding himself that this isn’t what you want, he sighs at the broken bed, putting on his gloves again to toss the ruined item into the large pile of junk that’s been amassed to take to the dump.

“Sure. I mean…that’s what you do with friends, right?” Rummaging in the bottom of his closet, you come out of your suitcase with a little black dress and a pair of stylish high heels that you’d bought for the op, using it as an excuse to get something nicer than what you wore for work everyday. Telling yourself that you’d kept them on the off chance that you ever got asked out on a date. “Are these okay?” You ask, appearing in the guest room doorway a second later. “I have some colorful jewelry so I won’t look like I got lost on my way to a funeral.”

“Whatever you want to wear.” Javi doesn’t know much about women’s fashion besides how to peel a woman out of her dress, but it seems fine to him. “You will look good.”

"Okay." It was an attempt to engage with him, to maybe hear an anecdote or get encouragement, but he's closed himself off again. It just makes you want to shrug it off and walk away so you go back to his room to put the clothes away and grab your book off the nightstand. You'll go read and get out of his hair for a while. Clearly spending so much time around you is grating on him.

Javi sighs again when you walk away, watching you and he can’t help the way his eyes tip down to your ass. It’s a nice ass. Making him frown when he remembers Steve saw it. He’s never been a jealous man, but fuck if he’s not jealous of that fucking hillbilly right now.

Finding Chucho out in the garden shouldn't have been a surprise, but when you flop down on the porch swing in back of the house with your book and look up to see him smiling and waving from the herb pots, you still startle a little. "H-hey Pops." You wave back awkwardly and silently congratulate yourself on being dumb enough to accidentally trade one Peña for the other. There's no escape though, because if you flee Chucho's presence you'll just have to explain yourself later.

“Mija.” Chucho notices the unhappy look on your face that you quickly decide to suppress. “My son giving you heartburn?” He asks, swiping his hat off his head to wipe the sweat. “I keep telling him that he does not have to be so glum all the time.”

"It's nothing, Pops, I promise." The last thing you want is for him to be thinking that you and Javi are having relationship problems when you have no relationship to begin with. "I'm just a little anxious." Good. You'll go with that. He knows the hearings are coming up anyway.

“They would be fools not to take you back.” Chucho grunts, although he keeps his opinion on whether you should go back to himself. “If they don’t, you can stay here as long as you want. Javier likes you here.”

"The standards are different for me." It's bullshit, but it's true. Being a woman, you have to out perform every single one of your male coworkers in order to just keep your head above water. And you had let yourself get sentimental over Javier - the one man in your universe who never seemed to care what you thought of him in the first place.

“They know that one day you will be telling them that you are carrying Javier’s baby.” Chucho huffs, shaking his head. “Stupid men believe women cannot carry a child and do a job. Even though women are stronger than men.”

"That—um—" To hear that from his father flusters you beyond imagination, and you nearly vibrate in a very uncomfortable way. "That isn't...Chucho that's not...Javi and I don't have that kind of relationship." You hate feeling like you're lying to the man when he's been so incredibly kind to you. Maybe it's better that he knows the truth. If you're not Javi's girlfriend he might not want you here — and that's something you need to know.

“Not now.” Chucho huffs. “When the boy gets his head out of his ass and decides to make an honest woman out of you, he will want babies.” He leans against the railing and smirks. “He’s actually good with the bebitos.”

"No, that's not what I—" You stop though, tilting your head slightly in confusion. "I've never seen him look anything but terrified in the presence of babies or small children."

“Really?” Shock turns to amusement and Chucho nearly doubled over laughing. “He said he was going to pretend he knew nothing.” He gasps as he chuckles after a long minute. “Mija, Javier is the oldest of all the cousins. He was changing diapers before he was eight. His tía swears he was the only one who could get Danny to stop crying.”

"Really?" The idea of Javi taking care of any kid is unexpected to you, and you hate the way it warms through you. The way it makes you yearn.

“He is a good boy, a bit stubborn.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But throw a baby in his arms and the boy would light up.”

"Not in Colombia." You shake your head a little. "Our other partner...he and his wife had adopted a baby while she was in country with us. I don't think I ever saw Javi go near her."

“Olivia.” Chucho nods. “Javier blames himself for what happened to her mother.”

"Sometimes the best thing we can do is work toward the best solution for a bad situation." Sweet little Olivia is with Connie now, and although you don't know what will happen between Connie and Steve, you know that baby will be loved and looked after. That's all you can really hope for sometimes. Love and care.

“That is a good way to look at it mija.” He nods, looking back out at the garden. “You will be good for him.” He promises you. “Everything he’s ever told me about you is true.” He reaches over and pats your hand before he turns back to go down the porch steps and back into the garden.

He's talked about you? Maybe Chucho just means the things that Javi has told him since you've been in the house, you really can't be sure. The best you can do is try to push it out of your mind and open your book.

******

Once the bed frame and mattress are tossed, Javi strips down and climbs into a cold shower. Groaning at the refreshing feeling of the water as it calms his overheated skin, he leans against the wall. You are upset at him, and he wonders if he can take you into town for a meal or something to get you to forgive him.

It's been almost an hour before Javi emerges again, looking very much like himself in that blue shirt with the pinstripes that makes him look taller and crisp, clean jeans. The dogs are the first to notice him, woofing excitedly and jumping up onto the porch to get dusty pawprints on his thighs before you can even turn around.

Javi snorts and shakes his head as he scratches the dog's ears. “Do you want to go into town?” He asks casually. “Get a drink and a meal no one in this house cooked?”

Though the voice in the back of your head wonders if he's asking out of guilt, it does sound nice to get out of the house and you had started feeling hungry about a half hour ago. Cleaning the guest room had been a bigger task than either of you expected and you're pretty sure you skipped lunch most days by accident. "Sure," you nod, plucking your bookmark out of the back cover of your book and saving your page for later. "Sure, that sounds nice."

“Okay.” Javi nods and shoves his hands in his jeans. “I’ll — you go get ready and I’ll get the truck keys from Pop.”

"Okay." You nod in return and disappear back into the house to wash up and change into clean clothes. That black dress is the only nice piece of clothing you managed to pack, but the jeans you routinely wore to the office were decent looking and several of the blouses that you had brought back to the States were nice, soft, floral things that you had bought in Colombia. So when you reappear a little while later in clean clothes with your face washed and hair tamed, it almost feels like the date you know you're never going to get with him.

“Ready?” Javi pops up from the rocker and he swallows harshly at the sight of you all cleaned up. He’s going to need a double in order to not say something stupid. “Got the keys.”

"Okay." Yeah, this feels exactly like getting ready for a date, and you seriously hope that wherever he's taking you has a liquor license because otherwise you're gonna make an idiot of yourself. "Where are we going?"

“There’s this bar in town.” Javi saunters down the porch steps and out to the truck. “Looks like shit but they serve the best damn food.”

"That's usually how it goes." You follow him out to the truck and hide your surprise when he opens the door for you. The dogs are pouting from the front door to see you go but you settle back in your seat when he climbs behind the wheel. Town isn't too far of a drive and it isn't like you've never been alone with Javi. You've just been alone with him a hell of a lot more since getting suspended from the DEA than you ever were when you were active agents.

“Wings are good, but the chili rellenos are probably the best in town.” Javi throws his arm on the bench as he backs the truck up to turn it around. “And add it to a burger? I used to live off of them when I was a sheriff’s deputy.”

"A chili relleno burger?" The idea has you nearly drooling, but you tilt your head at Javi as he starts to drive. "You were a deputy? Seriously?" As much as you know him as a law enforcement officer, he's so prone to break the rules that imagining him as a small town cop just seems so unlikely.

“Yep.” He shrugs and continues to guide the truck down the long drive from the house to the road. “A million years ago when I got out of college.”

"I wanted to be Secret Service." There's no reason to tell him this, but you find it rolling off your tongue anyway as the truck rumbles down the dirt road. "I started the process and ended up with the US Marshals instead. The DEA is where I went afterward. We worked a big joint operation with the DEA in LA and they offered me a transfer for my good work." Sometimes you wonder what would have happened if you had never taken that transfer at all, if you had stayed with the Marshals, but it's too late to do anything about it now.

“No shit?” Javi is impressed, looking over at you with a grin before he hums. “No damn wonder you run laps around us.” He had always admired your work ethic. It was one of the reasons he had kept clear of you, wanting to make sure you weren’t smeared by his reputation, although the joke was on him since you were fucking Steve.

"Yeah." You nod your head and shrug like it doesn't matter, because to some degree it doesn't. After all, Javi had been DEA for far longer than you. "Doubt they'd take me back, though."

“They’d been fools not to.” Javi sighs. “I think they will. Maybe some shit hole assignment for a few years. But you’ll overcome that.”

"You'll get to go back to Colombia. I know you will." For some reason you're certain of it. Not only because Javi tends to overcome his own shitty hardships pretty well through charm and perseverance, but because he's a damn good agent. He worked that case against Escobar longer and harder than anybody and he damn well deserves to get to go back.

“Doubt it.” He frowns and shakes his head. “It hurts not being there. Knowing that they are close to getting the bastard.”

"You will." Your hand rests on his arm on the back of the seat and you give it a supportive squeeze. After all, regardless of what else you feel for him, he's your partner. Your friend. "I can feel it."

“Thanks.” Javi sighs again and tries to shake off the glumness. “Maybe after Escobar is caught…you can figure out what you are doing with…Steve.”

"I really wish you would stop bringing that up," you tell him, letting your own sigh loose. "It was one time, we were drinking, and it was a mistake. That's all. He missed Connie and I—" He doesn't need to know, you remind yourself sternly. "I let it go too far."

He didn’t know that. He had assumed that it was something more. At least more than once. “I’m sorry.”

"We were never going to tell anyone." It feels like an explanation is warranted, since you snapped a little, and you sit back in your seat. "I don't know what happened. Somebody found out and it got back to the higher ups." Stupidly, you shrug. "Sometimes you do shit you shouldn't have for dumb reasons. That's all. He's my best friend, and it shouldn't have happened."

“I thought you two were having— that it was something more.” He admits, shrugging slightly. He doesn’t want to admit that he was jealous. He’s not your best friend.

"You thought we were having an affair." You swallow a sigh and wish you had brought your cigarettes. "It wasn't that. We just...neither of us could have what we wanted, so sometimes when that happens you make the dumb decision to cling to whatever is closest."

“Why couldn’t you have what you wanted?” He catches that and frowns slightly. Wondering what you couldn’t possibly get.

"Doesn't matter now." He's perceptive as hell as an agent, but shit sometimes Javi is oblivious. And the last thing you want is to make shit awkward between you by admitting that you want him and pretty much always have. Since you met, at least.

He frowns and wonders why you are being cagey. Unless it was someone in Colombia that you had left behind. “Well, I’m sorry.”

"You didn't do anything to be sorry for." It's not his fault that he doesn't want you. It's not like he sat back and consciously decided not to be attracted to you. That would be kind of insane, to be honest.

“No, I did.” Javi snorts. “Spent so much time making sure no one thought you would sleep with me, I didn’t notice you and Steve.”

"You made it very clear that you didn't want to sleep with me." And it fucking stings that he would be so casual about bringing it up. Maybe dinner was a mistake. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

“Oh I wanted to sleep with you.” Javi snorts. “That’s why I made sure everyone knew I wasn’t.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “There was a betting pool on how long before I fucked you when you showed up.”

"You–I–there was a what??" There is no way to disguise the shock in your voice, and you probably should have taken a breath before you opened your mouth, but you're too dumbstruck for logic at the moment.

“Yeah.” Javi shakes his head in disgust. “Bastards, every one of them. Acting like it was just some kind of game. That you weren’t an agent and just another worker at the brothel.”

"Okay, but–" Your mind is spinning a little and you reach to shut off the truck's radio, hoping that it will help you think a little more clearly. "But you–you said that–Jesus fucking Christ this can't be happening..."

“You didn’t know?” Javi looks over at you and wonders why this seems to be rocking you so harshly. “Even the damn ambassador had a stake in the pool.”

"No I didn't fucking know!" And right now it feels like it's going to drown you, the disbelief and the frustration crashing over you in equal measure. "And Steve sure as fuck didn't know. Otherwise he should have fucking said something instead of sleeping with me."

What the fuck does Steve have to do with it? Javi frowns and shakes his head. “They all talked about it in Spanish. You know he can’t fucking understand half of a conversation on a good day.”

"He can't even order in a restaurant." Which was a source of endless amusement, but it doesn't answer your biggest question. The one that has you turning to watch him while he drives with exhausted curiosity. "So...you were protecting my reputation? Is that it?"

“You’re a good agent.” Javi insists. “If they thought you were fucking me, they wouldn’t give you any of the respect you are due.” It’s bullshit and completely wrong, but it’s what would have happened. “So I just….acted like you were a man.”

That makes you groan, and you cover your face with both hands as he drives. “Fucking, of course you did.” That certainly explained a hell of a lot, even if you’re not thrilled about the answer. He had done it out of respect, knowing that you couldn’t get both. Meanwhile, you would have gladly taken the option to be banged like a screen door in July.

You don’t sound happy about his decision as you groan and he is utterly confused. “Sorry?” He practically asks it, unsure why you are annoyed. You know how men act.

"You didn't do anything wrong." In fact, he did less wrong than you had originally thought, which makes it so much more difficult to be mad about.

“You sound pissed.”

"I'm surprised." Pissed is the wrong word, although you're not exactly excited to find out after the fact that you didn't have a chance for entirely different reasons than you thought.

Silence falls in the cab of the truck and Javi feels you shifting beside him as he drives. It’s probably that it was kept from you, he decides. You never like being kept in the dark, but he had never shared anyone’s proclivity for locker room bragging. The awkwardness and discomfort of the whole situation makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells, until eventually you shift one too many times and can’t stand it anymore. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you murmur, staring out the window.

“Oh.” Javi is shocked you would feel that way, but he guesses it’s not too much of a stretch. “I thought you didn’t care. You never seemed to think I was anything but a manwhore.”

The times you had teased him about it or made side comments were very definitely not your finest moments, and if you could fold up into a pretzel in this truck as he pulls into town, you would. “Of course I care.” This is barreling dangerously close to a confession, but you don’t know what else to say. The idea that you don’t care about him is absolutely the furthest from the truth.

He had thought that you were judging him for how he spent his time and who he slept with. There had seemed to be an edge of disdain to your barbed comments, so he had assumed that you hadn’t approved. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.” Javi huffs. “I’m not sleeping with anyone.”

“That’s…technically not true.” And the realization makes you huff at your own ridiculousness and even roll your eyes. “You’re just actually sleeping with me, not the euphemism.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “And the dog.” He reminds you, MacGuyver deciding that his favorite sleeping spot is between the two of you. Javi slept on the edge of the mattress most nights.

“I love that dog but he is a bed hog.” It’s sweet, though, and has kept you from doing anything stupid, which you have to stay grateful for.

“So it’s not just me?” Javi grunts. “I’m almost falling off the damn bed by morning.”

“We’re both sleeping on the edge and MacGyver’s got the whole bed to himself.” A half-laugh makes it out of you as he pulls up in front of a nondescript building and you shake your head. “This it?”

“This is it.” Javi puts the truck into park and shoots you a grin. “Just say no to the Hellspawn Boilermaker.” He advises you before he climbs out of the truck.

“Why would you tell me that?” You’re out of the truck and onto the sidewalk in an instant and throwing him a pout. “Now I have to know!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He cautions, striding up to the door and holding it open for you.

Inside is dimly lit and a little on the loud side, with plenty of people drinking and just as many eating while the jukebox plays and the pool tables in the corner stay active. It’s a hole in the wall for damn sure, but an inviting one. “Do you want to sit at the bar?” Javi asks, spying a small table in the corner of you don’t.

“Wherever.” This is his town - his place - and you are flexible as long as he feels comfortable. You’re going to be in your head the whole dinner now that you know he used to want you anyway, so you truly couldn’t care less.

“Let’s sit at that table.” He would rather not answer a dozen questions on being home. So he guides you over to the small table.

A waitress notices you quickly enough, bringing over two thin menus and taking your drink orders while simultaneously making it obvious that she finds Javi extremely attractive. Not that you can blame her, but she is awfully blatant about it. What if you were on a date or something?

Javi studies the menu quickly before setting it aside and leaning back, reaching for the ashtray. He has been dying for a cigarette and needs one now.

"So this is an old haunt?" The menu is nothing surprising - basically barbecue and some house specialties, but it all sounds damn good.

"Pretty much." Javi smirks slightly. "We all used to drink underage here, back when that wasn't horrible." He explains. "Then most of us became solid citizens. Half the police force in Laredo used to come here."

"Boilermakers for all?" You guess, shooting him a grin.

Javi chuckles and shrugs slightly. "I'm surprised that it wasn't offered when we ordered our drinks. Wonder if they still do it. It was a tradition."

"When I was in the Marshals, we used to do these awful tequila bombs after missions." For better or for worse, you haven't had one in years. Although it almost feels like a sentimental memory now, it was more like hazing back then. "Thank god we could get good tequila in LA. If I had tried that where I grew up, it would have been cheap shit and bad beer and tasted even worse."

He chuckles again and nods. "This is a habanero infused whiskey with a shot of pickled jalapeño juice dropped in it, all dropped into a glass of Budweiser. Have to drink it all in one shot."

"Ugh." The grimace on your face is immediate, but still you're laughing. "So the kind of thing Milgroup would make their boys drink and tell them it's a Colombian specialty?"

"Yep." The waitress swings back by, dropping off drinks and lingering for just a moment, so Javi picks up his whiskey and looks up at her. "You still offer the Hellspawn?" He asks curiously before he downs the shot in one toss of his head.

"Only to people brave enough to try it," she simpers, clearly meaning dumb instead of brave, but not wanting to put him off.

Javi smirks and looks over at you. "Give us two and a basket of cheese fries to cool down with." He orders.

"We're both going to do the barbecue burger." There isn't even a debate on that – the burger boasted cheddar cheese, thick cut bacon, house barbecue sauce, and onion straws with house-made pickles on the side and that has both your name and Javi's written all over it like a neon sign. When the waitress nods and walks away with your menus, you sit back and laugh at his expression. "You didn't think we'd both gravitate toward the same thing? That's the quintessential burger for us."

"I expected you to go for the chili relleno burger." He admits with a small grin.

"I thought about it." You really did, especially since he had mentioned it on the way here. "But...onion straws. You know I'd probably climb through the jungle in high heels for anything having to do with fried onions."

"That is true." He frowns. "Haven't you already run through the jungle in high heels though?"

Only once, but it had been early on and Javi had made you out to be something of a legend for managing it. "Yeah, so I know what a pain in the ass it is."

"I wouldn't want to find out for myself." He picks up the glass of water that had been delivered with the other drinks and takes a sip. "Word of advice, don't try to drink water after the Hellspawn. Makes it worse."

“Noted.” Although that has you morbidly curious, you don’t ask questions. He ordered the cheese fries, that’s what is going to happen after the drink of doom.

The jukebox starts to play and Javi looks around the bar again. Noting that not a lot has changed over the years. "So we just need to get through Danny's wedding." He broaches the subject. "I'm sorry, but I think pop has told the entire family that we are together. So expect questions and tales about the wedding that wasn't."

“Why didn’t you ever tell them that we aren’t?” It is such a point of curiosity and frustration that you need to ask. As much as you don’t want to upset him, you need to know why he never just told his family that you aren’t his girlfriend.

He sighs and shakes his head. "It's–" He doesn't want to admit that he had talked a lot about you with his Pop, giving the man the impression you were very important to him. Because you were. "I don't know." He admits with a shrug, figuring that it was easier to say that than to admit that he wondered what it would be like to be in a relationship with you.

“Bullshit.” It is, and you’ll call him out on it any day of the week. There’s apparently shit he’s been hiding from you, but this isn’t going to be on that list anymore.

He frowns, lips curled unhappily and he reaches for his cigarettes again after crushing out the one he just finished. "What the fuck do you want me to say?" He demands, shoving the cigarette between his lips and flicking the zippo open.

“The truth.” Your beer is going to be empty pretty quickly at the rate you’re drinking it, but fuck it. You’re annoyed after everything that got said in the truck. “I’m not gonna get mad, Jav, whatever it is. But I just found out you’ve been keeping shit from me and you’re lying about this and I hate being lied to.”

"I haven't lied." Javi shakes his head, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag off of it before blowing the smoke up into the air. "Not to you. And I've kept plenty of shit from you." It's not the best argument but you don't let it go, just staring at him and waiting for your answer. He sighs and catches the waitress's eye, lifting his glass to indicate he wants another drink and sighs again. "Because I didn't want to tell them you weren't my girlfriend."

“But I’m not.” The lackluster explanation has only made you more confused, and you drain the end of your beer with your eyes pinched closed. “You just don’t want them to know you’re single? Jav, I would have given you shit about it but I would have played along. You could’ve just asked. I get having an invasive family.”

"I don't give a shit about that." Javi scoffs and shakes his head. Looking away from you in embarrassment. "You– you're the closest I've been to a relationship since Lorraine." He admits quietly, shrugging one shoulder. "It's kind of nice."

“Lorraine is…the fiancée you left at the altar?” If you’re the closest he’s been to a relationship since that, he’s even worse at them than you thought.

"Yep." Javi huffs and leans back when the woman brings over his next drink.

"Those Hellspawns are almost ready." She tells him with a wink.

He nods but he doesn't watch her walk away, finding your eyes again. "Talked about you enough that Pop thought...well, he thought I was hesitant to admit we were dating."

“You talked about me?” All of this is news to you, but at least you can keep your voice down with that no one is looking your way. “Like…before you told him I was coming here?”

Javi frowns again, picking up the new glass of whiskey. "Of course I did." He tells you. "You didn't ever talk about me?"

“I don’t talk to my family.” They don’t want to hear from you and you don’t want to fight with them, so it was just easier to avoid by not calling. “The people I talked to most were you and Steve.”

He rolls his eyes, aware that any conversation with Steve about him wouldn't be a good one. "I–" He tosses back the drink and shakes his head. "It's nice, okay?" He hisses. "Fucking normal. I feel normal. Imagining that we– that you–" He breaks off and slumps back. "I'll tell them."

“He wanted me to tell you.” The words come blurring out of your mouth like you had tried to swallow lava, and it’s immediately too late to take it back.

"Tell me what?" Javi barely pays attention to you, clenching his jaw as he thinks of how to break it to his Pop that the woman who is 'perfect for him', isn't even someone he's ever kissed.

The waitress comes back, this time with a tray with six items on it. Two shot glasses, two whiskey glasses and two beer glasses. The makings of the Hellspawn. "Here we go."

With the moment broken, your sudden burst of bravery deflates and you sit back, very nearly pouting sullenly. “Right. Let’s just drink.”

"Okay." Tessa sets the tray down and smiles at Javi. "You know how this works right?" She asks, sure that he might be the most handsome man she's ever seen. "Drop the jalapeño juice into the whiskey and then drop both glasses into the beer." The glasses of beer were only half full, making sure that it's not too messy. "And those cheese fries are coming right up."

“Can’t take the barely legal waitress home if you’re still fake-dating me,” you mutter after she walks off, feeling bitter at your own stupidity at this point.

"What?" Javi frowns, confused at what you are talking about. "I– her?" He shakes his head. "I haven't even looked at her."

“Until twenty minutes ago in the truck I was under the impression that your rule was anybody but me, so I’m still adjusting,” you tell him curtly before dropping your drink together with determination and putting the concoction to your lips so you can’t say anything else stupid.

"Fuck you." Javi drops the juice into the whiskey and glares at you before he picks up that glass to drop into the beer. "I always wanted you. Still do." He picks up his own drink and starts to down it.

It isn’t until your glass is down – the foul drink being oddly tasty at first but soured by the mood that you find his eyes again. “I slept with Steve because I was depressed that you never looked at me twice.”

Javi grimaces and coughs slightly at the burn of the capsaicin in the drink before staring at you. "Probably because when I looked at you, you were walking away from me."

“He told me to tell you.” You repeat, wishing you had another drink to down, like maybe you could drown yourself in them. “Said you deserved to know. So there. I’m telling you.”

"So there?" Javi reaches for the water out of reflex. "Like I was expected to know you wanted me to look at you when you scoffed every time I left the office." You knew where he was going, what he was doing. He hadn't hidden it. You had made your feelings about his affairs very clear.

“Shockingly,” this time your sarcasm is aimed at yourself. “I didn’t handle being in love with you very well. Being jealous of every other woman in Colombia grated on me just a little.”

The water is halfway gone when Javi realizes his mistake. The burn of the peppers in the whiskey immediately increases and he feels his tongue start to burn. "Shit."

“Shit?” Not having registered the drink or the water or any of it, you sigh only so you don’t scream and squeeze one hand into fist as hard as you can. “Forget it. Never mind. I’ll get my shit out of your Dad’s house and find a hotel tonight. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Eyes watering, Javi squeezes them shut and prays that the fries come quickly. "H-hot." He wheezes after a moment of trying to speak but being unable because of how bad his mouth is watering.

“Wha—oh!” When you finally realize what happened – remembering what he said about water making the drink hotter and realizing that he had half of his glass – you are up and out of your seat in a heartbeat to go straight to the bar for a glass of lemonade or juice or even tomato juice. Anything with acid. The confused bartender gives you a glass of tomato juice with lemon and says he’ll put it in your tab in the same breath that you’re thanking him and bringing it back to the table.

Breathing hurts and Javi's trying not to inhale too much as you rush back over with the glass of juice. Shoving it into his hand as he greedily starts to gulp it down in an effort to quell the burning of his mouth and esophagus.

Acid helps heat. Carrillo told you that once when you had dinner with him and his wife and got in over your head with his wife's fantastic and incredibly spicy salsa. It won't cure him instantly but it will help, and now you're sitting at the table feeling like an idiot for getting mad about his reaction when he was in pain.

Once every drop of the juice is gone, Javi sighs, setting it down and cursing himself for being so unnerved by you and this entire situation and he had fucked up and done exactly what he had warned you again. "Thanks." He grunts, reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth and wishes he had another beer to wash down the taste of the tomato juice.

"Sure." The awkward shuffle of two people who can barely look at each other is mercifully interrupted by the waitress arriving with the plate of fries and two more beers, and she takes your glasses away silently after reading the tension between you.

"So." Javi takes a large swallow of his beer. "Let me lay this out. I made sure not to hit on you so it wouldn't ruin your reputation. And you were mad at me for not hitting on you?" He asks, finally glancing back over at you.

"Not...technically?" Thank god there's food to concentrate on right now and you can be justified in not looking at him. "I was jealous and frustrated. Not quite mad."

"And I'm jealous that you fucked Steve." He confesses. "When I found out, I figured that was why you never seemed to like me."

"He was upset about Connie and I was upset about you." You poke at a few cheese fries with your fork and try not to curl in on yourself. "I said your fucking name in bed with him Jav, it's not like I'm not fully aware that I fucked up."

"Oh don't tell me that." Javi winces, his own fries halfway to his mouth. "I– that's– ouch."

"I just said I fucked up." You point out. "I did. And we both knew it. That's why he told me I should tell you."

"You have told me." He murmurs, shoving the fries in his still overheated mouth. "And look like you want to be anywhere else but here."

"I'm not chomping at the bit to be rejected, that's all." There is a difference between wanting someone and you just admitting to being in love with him, and you are absolutely as fully prepared to be told that he doesn't feel the same way about you that you have been the whole time. It's just that now he actually knows the extent of how you feel.

He never thought you were dim witted. Out of the three of you, Javi had personally felt you were the smartest agent there. Yet you still have not made the connection despite all the pieces being in front of you. "And you are here because I could not admit that you and I aren't together."

A long moment of silence passes between you before you close your eyes and sigh, feeling even stupider than you had a minute ago. "...fuck."

Javi doesn't say anything. Letting the moment hang between you. If you want to clarify, to ask something, you can.

"I honestly can't decide which one of us is more of a dumbass," you mutter, wiping one hand over your face. "Probably me, honestly. But fuck..."

"Did you work with Los Pepes?" Javi snorts, shaking his head. "I think that honor would go to me."

"No." The shift at the table is only your awkwardness, and you gulp another breath. "But I did go to them to beg them to let you out of your agreement, so I guess I'm specifically a sentimental dumbass."

"You shouldn't have." Javi insists. "They would have just slapped you on the wrist for fucking Steve if that hadn't come out. You would still be there. In the hunt for that bastard."

"Well, I did." The things you do for love apparently include tanking your career. "You had been there a hell of a lot longer than any of us. You deserved to see it through."

"Apparently not." Javi grumbles, shaking off the sense of disappointment. "That's life though."

"I'm sorry." It's not as though you made it worse, but you certainly didn't make it any better.

"It's not your fault." Javi knows he has no one to blame but himself. "I'm sorry." He is the one who is ultimately responsible for you being sent back to the States. He is the one who needs to apologize.

"You didn't make me go to them. For that matter, you didn't make me get drunk and stupid with Steve, either." You sigh, shaking your head. "I did what I did for my own dumb reasons and you have nothing to apologize for."

"You felt like you had to protect me." Javi hums quietly. "You put your career on the line for me."

Picking up your beer, you stare into the golden bubbles for a second before nodding. “The shit we do for love, right?”

"You don't love me, muñeca." Javi shakes his head. "You don't know all the things that I've done. You think you love me.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” You tell him flatly. “You don’t have to feel the same way, and you don’t have to be my friend, or even my partner. But you definitely don’t get to decide how I feel about you.”

That shuts him up. Staring at you for a moment before he frowns, nodding at the truth in your comment. "I am– I am not a good man."

“Does that immediately disqualify you from deserving every morsel of happiness?” Some people might say that it does, but you’ve never believed that.

"I will let you down." He sighs softly, revealing his worst fear.

"How do you know that?" Considering you haven't actually asked him for anything, the possibility is extremely miniscule. The worst he can do at this moment is tell you no, and that's what you're fully expecting. So it can't be a let down at all.

"It's what I do, muñeca." Javi snorts. "My mother, Lorraine, Helena, Oliva, Horatio, Steve, you, I let everyone down."

"And you don't deserve a chance to redeem yourself ever?" That makes you put your drink down again, and actually hold his gaze across the table. "I can't decide for you, Javi. I never thought in all the time I've known you that I actually had a chance at all, so you telling me 'no' is exactly what I expect. But if you want to give whatever this could be a chance, you very literally know where to find me."

“Don’t turn this into me rejecting you.” Javi shakes his head and leans back, folding his arms over his chest. “This is me protecting you.” He insists. “Don’t you see that?”

"I'm not trying to pick another fight." There has already been plenty of that for today. "If forgetting we ever had this conversation is what you want, that's fine. I'll smile pretty and play your fake girlfriend at your cousin's wedding, and I'll get myself out of your hair just as soon as Washington decides what to do with me. Seriously, Javi. It's fine." You've dealt with plenty of heartbreak in your life. Javier Peña won't be the first or the last person to break your heart, but you're a big girl. You'll carry on.

Javi frowns, unhappy with your answer but he can’t blame you. He’s pushing you away. “It’s not smart.” Javi shakes his head. “We’ve been drinking.”

"Fine." Despite the fact that you can feel your heart breaking in your chest, you just shrug and fold your hands in your lap under the table. "The dog takes up the whole bed anyway."

“Muñeca.” Javi murmurs quietly, his dark eyes fixed on you. Sighing softly when you won’t look at him. Hating how much you look like he’s crushing your heart.

****** To say the meal is tense is a bit of an understatement, but you pick up your book for a few hours when you get back to the house and mercifully find that Chucho has had some friends over to play poker tonight so no one is paying much attention to you or to Javi. It's just you and the dogs for a while before you figure it's safe to go to bed, seeing as you haven't seen hide nor hair of Javi since you got home.

The barn has always been a place where Javi has been able to think. The monotony of manual labor helps clear his mind and just work. Even after years away, he knows how to clean out a stall and lay fresh bedding. So the animals are getting it tonight instead of tomorrow morning? What’s a few hours when he can exhaust himself instead of going inside and begging you to let him touch you. To burn off this need that is clawing under the surface and threatening to overwhelm him.

"Looks like it's you and me, bud," you tell MacGyver, placing a kiss between his ears and shutting the bedroom door temporarily so you can put on your pajamas. It takes just a couple of minutes before you pop the door open again and crawl under the covers to give him your undivided attention. Five or ten minutes of devoted petting before shutting your eyes is good for the soul, and maybe tonight you won't end up crying yourself to sleep.

By the time that Javi closes the barn door, it’s late and every muscle in his body aches. Sweaty and needing another shower, he quietly makes his way into the house and into the bathroom. He can’t climb in the bed filthy, that wouldn’t be fair to you. Quickly showering, he wraps a towel around his waist and makes his way to the bedroom.

The dog is snoring soundly but you barely managed to stop the tears when you heard him start up the shower across the hall. With your eyes closed and the blanket pulled up to your chest you hope you look convincingly asleep, just trying not to get into another argument before sleeping.

Pushing the door open, Javi stops, listening to hear if you are still awake. “Muñeca?” He whispers softly. “Are you awake?”

It's better not to answer, you decide quickly. Better to let him think you've already drifted off so he can just settle in and fall asleep. For that matter, maybe pretending will actually help you fall asleep.

He sighs softly, unsure of why he even bothered. You hate him now. Moving over to the dresser, he pulls out a pair of boxers and slides them on. Easing his way into the bed so he doesn’t wake you, he fights for the tiniest piece that he can squeeze onto, pushing the dog over. “I wish you knew how much I love you.” He murmurs after a long moment of staring into the darkness. “How much I want to be with you.”

It's too late to say anything now, but at least you're facing away from him so he can't see that you're tearing up all over again. Of all the men in the world, you had to go and fall in love with an emotionally closed off idiot who talks to you when he thinks you're asleep. And you know for damn sure it's love because you catch yourself thinking it's cute.

“You’re going to be reassigned somewhere else.” Javi whispers. “You’re too good of an agent not to be. And if I’m– if we are together, you won’t take it. You’d give up your career for me. Again. And you’d hate me for it.”

Barely suppressing a sniffle, you squeeze your eyes shut facing the windows and say nothing. You don't move and don't make a sound, listening to him pour his heart out when he thinks you can't hear him.

“Every damn day I want you. Crave you like you’re the purest fucking cocaine that has ever come out of Colombia.” He sighs. “I’m fucking tired of jerking off in the shower, imagining how you would feel, how you would sound. But I can’t touch you and lose you. I can’t, muñeca.”

A tear actually escapes this time, damn him and his sentimentality, but you don't move to wipe it away or even flinch. His confessional is his alone. You're not supposed to be hearing a word of this.

“If it takes you hating me to keep you safe, to keep from hurting you, I’ll do it. I’ll sacrifice my own happiness for you. Anything for you.”

A sob nearly shakes you, and it takes biting your lip to keep still and silent. Thank god for MacGyver, that dog could drown out anyone with the sounds of his sleeping. He's trying to protect you. And as noble as that is, you'd rather have him than safety any day of the week.

He had imagined it would be cathartic to confess this to you. That it would be a weight off his chest, but it’s not. He doesn’t know why, but the hollow ache is still there, the weight pressing down on him. “You asked me why I didn’t tell my family that we were together.” Javi has to add one last thing and then he will bury these feelings. “I wanted to imagine what it was like for a while. Pretend that you are mine. So I could go on without you when you leave.”

Biting your lip, squeezing the pillow, muffling your mouth with your hand, none of it could possibly be enough this time. With those words out of his mouth and the raw sob that wracks through you, the best you can do is hope that he doesn't feel the bed shake - or maybe that he isn't looking at you while he's talking. Otherwise the ruse of being asleep is completely useless at this point.

“Goodnight, muñeca.” Javi whispers again, feeling the dog shake the bed. “I always called you ‘doll’ because you are precious to me.” He closes his eyes and sighs, turning towards the door so he can try to sleep even though he knows he won’t.

______

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[inawickedlittletown]

Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) - 1/4

Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.

Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

Words: 3.6k

Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles

Read on Ao3

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Part One

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“Tommy! Hey, man, what are you doing here?” Chim called out. 

Buck followed his line of sight. He didn’t know the man standing up on the loft, hands resting on the railing, already in uniform. He also didn’t understand why Bobby was coming up behind him still in jeans and a button down. Neither of them said a word, but the guy — Tommy — offered them a nod. 

“Hey, who is that?” Buck asked as he and Chim made it into the locker room. 

“Tommy? He used to work here, transferred to the 217 a few years ago right before you started. Come to think of it, I guess you replaced him,” Chim said. 

“And now he’s back?” 

Chim shrugged his shoulders and Buck settled for getting out of his street clothes and into his uniform quickly. Eddie ran in looking confused too. After the week they’d had they had all been looking forward to things going back to normal. No heists, no police raiding their homes, and no more questions from detectives. 

They made it up just in time to join Hen and a few of the others. Bobby had them gather around the table with Tommy standing somewhere behind him. It seemed it was more than just Chim that knew him going by the fist bumps and high fives and nods and smiles exchanged. Buck couldn’t keep his eyes from straying towards Tommy because there was something so absolutely captivating and Buck couldn’t put his finger on it other than to acknowledge that yes Tommy was one of the most beautiful men that Buck had ever seen. 

And then, Bobby told them he was being investigated. He was suspended pending the investigation and Tommy Kinard was taking over as Captain for the time being. Bobby seemed resigned more than anything and behind him Tommy just stood silently as they all tried to argue that Bobby shouldn’t be investigated for something he’d more than atoned for. Buck was the one that walked Bobby out to his car. 

“It’s okay, Buck,” Bobby said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if this is the way it goes this is the way it goes.” 

“Is there anything I can do? Anything any of us can do?” 

Bobby smiled at him. He pat his shoulder. “Not at the moment. Just gotta wait and see.” 

“How are you this calm?” 

“I always knew it was a possibility. You should get back in there. New Captain and all.” 

Buck grabbed Bobby’s arm. “Wait, who is that guy?” 

“Tommy? He’s good people. It was going to be Chim, but Tommy was available and the Chief decided Tommy could do it. Not permanently—”

“Because you’ll be back in no time,” Buck said. 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “We don’t know that. For now he’s your Captain, don’t make things any harder than they need to be.” 

“Sure. Sure.” 

“I mean it, Buck.” 

He headed back in and found Chim, Hen, Eddie, and their new interim Captain in the kitchen. 

His eyes found Tommy and it was hard to look away, especially when he was smiling. His teeth were just so white and the skin on the edges of his eyes crinkled. His jaw was defined, sharp as can be and his chin had a cleft. He was captivating. 

“Buck, come over here and meet Tommy,” Chim called out, motioning for him. “Tommy, this is Buck.” 

“Buckley,” Tommy said. “Your name isn’t Buck Buckley is it?” 

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. Buck was struck by Tommy’s gaze. His eyes were blue and piercing, it was as if he were looking right through Buck to his very soul. 

“Uh, Evan,” Buck said. 

“Evan,” Tommy said and he said it like it was important, like Buck was important.

—

Tommy wasn’t happy about the placement. It felt like a punishment, especially for someone like him. Of course, it was better than the alternative. He was grounded. No flying for him. Captain Reid had given him a choice and as dumb as the whole situation was, he supposed that being at the 118 as acting Captain was better than having to sit out on air support calls at the 217 and watching everyone else get to climb into the helicopters and go up leaving him to respond with the ground crew. He’d see the judgment from some and the pity from others. So, no thank you. 

Of course, going back to the 118 meant that he’d be facing his past and that…well, that could go wrong if Tommy let it. 

The timing had just happened to work out and though Tommy wasn’t privy to why Captain Nash was getting investigated, he just knew that it would blow over. There was no way they had anything on him that would lose the man his job. The short time that Tommy had worked with him, he’d been impressed and if it hadn’t been for the opportunity to get back in the air, he would have stuck around. Maybe he would have even managed to tell them all the truth. Or maybe, he never would have built up the nerve. 

The moment he stepped into the 118 again it felt like going back in time. His bag was slung over his shoulder as he walked past the trucks and he found Captain Nash regarding the trucks. He looked mostly resigned. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Tommy said. “Can I ask what happened?” 

“I wanted to tell them myself. It’s my past catching up with me. I always knew it could be a possibility,” Bobby said. “I’m sure you heard about the bank heist we almost got framed for?” 

Tommy chuckled, bemused. “What? No. I didn’t.”

He’d been a little too busy dealing with his own shit to pay attention to something like that. 

Bobby chuckled in response. “It was a long week,” he said.

“The Chief didn’t say much,” Tommy said. 

“Well, we had a call to a bank and afterwards money and diamonds were missing. Someone put the cash on the truck, so they looked into all of us pretty deeply. They found stuff about my transfer and here we are.” 

“I’m sure this will all get cleared up,” Tommy said. “There have been worse people that managed to keep their jobs in the LAFD.” 

He could tell that Bobby wasn’t convinced as he walked past him to the familiar locker room. Tommy had loved this place once, had thought that he’d found where he belonged. Of course, it had also meant compromising who he really was. He’d been so deep in that closet, but it was entirely about self-preservation. Leaving the 118 as much as it had been about flying, had been about being ready to embrace who he was. It had been about telling the truth. 

Returning to the 118 felt like falling backwards. Back into the lies. Back into the closet. Back into the mindset that he had to build up a wall to keep himself safe. Except that…he could choose differently. He didn’t need to lie. He was the Captain, they didn’t need to know anything about his personal life. If they asked, Tommy wouldn’t lie. He wasn’t going backwards. 

He met back up with Bobby at the loft. It still looked the same as when he’d left. 

“Circumstances aside, how do you feel about being back here?” Bobby asked. “I know this wasn’t your first choice.” 

“It was my only choice,” Tommy said. “I’m excited to work with Chimney and Hen again. Timing worked out, I guess. Who would they have gotten the position otherwise?” 

“Chim,” Bobby said. “But once the Chief mentioned you might be up for it, I figured that worked just as well. You know this house and you know the job.” 

Tommy ducked his head. “And I’m rooting for you to be back as soon as possible,” Tommy added. 

“There’s that, too.” 

“Chim would have made a good Captain,” Tommy said. 

“Yes. I just don’t think he would have liked it.” 

He could tell that Bobby hadn’t been told why Tommy was available, and Tommy didn’t offer the information. He wondered if Bobby would be alright with him taking his spot if he knew? Somehow, he did think that Bobby would be on his side. Hell, even Captain Reid was on his side even if his hands were tied. He thought that Bobby was about to ask, but Bobby was too professional to ask even if he did look curious. 

Bobby took him through a few things back in his office — the office Tommy would be taking over. He was warned about the paperwork, but Tommy already did more than his share of paperwork back at the 217. 

It had never been a goal of his to make it to Captain. He wondered if giving Sal a call as the acting Captain of the 118 might be warranted. He’d wanted it so badly back then and now it was Tommy in the position even if temporary. Sal might get a laugh out of that. He could send Gerrard a postcard too with just two words on it “Fuck-You”. Tommy never said he couldn’t be petty. All things considered, it was nice to think of doing things like that, but Tommy wouldn’t. He and Sal had lost touch a while back a little bit on purpose and Tommy hoped to never have to see Gerrard ever again. 

By the time that they heard the A-shift getting in, Tommy was as prepared as could be. He wouldn’t live up to what Bobby was as a Captain, but he would try his best and rely on having good people working under him. If nothing else, Tommy had time and experience on his hands and he was a damn good firefighter. A pilot too. 

What Tommy was not expecting was the gorgeous man walking in with Howie. So maybe, it’d be a little more complicated than he’d expected. 

-

So maybe he checked out a guy every once in a while. Buck was appreciative of the human form and sometimes those forms were male. It was normal. Completely and absolutely normal and everyone did that right? He had never really thought about it, but could easily admit to himself that Tommy Kinard was a beautiful man. 

Throughout that first shift with Captain Kinard in command, Buck might have let his eyes linger on the man more than should be normal, he just couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that Tommy was competent too. No one could ever replace Bobby, but he could admit that Tommy knew what he was doing. Within a few calls, he seemed to know who worked well together and who did what best. He was creative, too, and open to suggestions. 

The one weird thing was that Tommy insisted on calling him Evan. Not in a condescending way or anything, but just because that’s the name that he felt like using. Stranger still was how much Buck liked it, it was why he didn’t correct him, not even when Chim made a face at him.

“Evan, get the jaws,” Tommy ordered. “Hen, how’s it looking in there?” 

The car accident wasn’t major, luckily. The girl inside couldn’t have been more than seventeen and she’d been panicking ever since the shock wore off. 

Buck returned with the jaws just in time to see Tommy lean to speak to the girl from the passenger side. His voice was calm and reassuring. It was so smooth and was it bad that Buck wanted to just listen to him speak forever? Could he narrate every book that Buck wanted to read? Or start a podcast? 

“Buck, what’s the hold up?” Hen asked. 

He blinked and rushed forward. “Sorry.” 

He thought he saw Tommy quirk an eyebrow. 

With help from Eddie, he got the door open and removed. Hen did a more thorough check up and Tommy stayed nearby. The girl seemed awed by him and Buck didn’t blame her one bit. 

A couple rushed towards them, escorted by Athena. 

“Amelia!” the woman shouted.

“Parents,” Athena said. Before any of them could move, Tommy got to them. 

“Your daughter is fine,” Tommy told them. “Just give my paramedic time to check her over. We don’t even think she’ll need to go to the hospital.”

On their way back to the station, they started discussing their dinner options. Buck was sure that if a few of them — not Eddie — got into the kitchen they could come up with enough edible food. Nothing on par with Bobby’s cooking but edible, Buck had picked up enough over the years. Tommy didn’t seem to trust that. 

“Maybe we’ll attempt that another day,” Tommy said to Evan.  

“Pizza it is,” Chim said. “You know, Cap is the one usually doing the cooking. You don’t want to give it whirl, Tommy?” 

Tommy laughed. Hen joined in. 

“If you want to get food poisoning.” 

“You can’t cook?” Buck asked. “Can’t be worse than Eddie.” 

“Hey, I can microwave stuff,” Eddie said. 

They all burst into laughter. 

When they got back to the station, Buck somehow found himself on his own with Tommy. Chim had been tasked with ordering the food and Hen had gone with him to make sure he got it right. Eddie was already on the phone with Shannon which was the norm for him since they’d reconnected. Buck thought that Eddie was looking a lot happier, as complicated as it all seemed to be. 

“How do you think I’m doing on my first day?” 

“Uh…you want my opinion?” Buck asked. “I’m…I mean you’re doing good. You cl-clearly know what you’re doing.” 

Tommy stared at him and then gave a nod. “Thanks, Evan.” 

Buck didn’t want him to walk away. He still knew very little about Tommy. Just that he’d transferred out of the 118 right before Buck arrived as a probie and now he was back to his old house. He’d also been a firefighter longer than any of them, going by how he’d talked about Chim’s first day as a probie. 

“Hey, so how come you left the 118?” Buck asked. 

“It was time. And I wanted to get back in the air,” Tommy said. 

Buck lost a step, but caught up to Tommy’s strides. “Wait, the air? So you’re air support? Like planes? Or helicopters?” 

“Both. But mostly helicopters,” Tommy confirmed. 

It only made Tommy that much hotter. And wait…since when did Buck think that men were hot? Maybe not like in general, but Tommy was…if you had eyes there was no way to miss that he was hot. 

“You were the one Chim called that time at that fire. Saved Eddie’s life…well, Eddie and the kid he was rescuing.” 

“Yeah,” Tommy said with a chuckle. 

“That’s really cool. So why — why give that up to come and boss us around?” 

At that, Tommy lost the smile. The crinkles around his eyes went away, replaced by frown lines on his forehead. 

“I should go fill out some reports,” Tommy said and walked away. 

“Touchy subject, I guess,” Buck said and watched as Tommy walked away from him, unable to tear his eyes from his back and yes, maybe checking him out just a little. Was it his fault that Tommy’s ass filled out his uniform really well? 

—

They really were a family. It wasn’t shocking to him, but it still left him feeling more than a little jealous because this is the thing that Tommy had always wanted. He’d thought he would find it in the Army and then he thought he would find that as a firefighter, and then his expectations had been lower when he transferred to Harbor and as much as he liked it there, it wasn’t a family. They were co-workers and some were friendlier than others, but it was nothing like whatever was happening at the 118. 

He watched them banter throughout the day, and as welcoming as they were, he didn’t quite fit. They had inside jokes and a way of communicating that made their work quick and efficient. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be their friend, that kept him outside of it too. He didn’t know how Bobby had managed to balance it all. 

“Tommy, you joining us?” Hen asked. “You know we all eat together around here.” 

Tommy let out a breath. “I’ll be right there.” 

“How are you holding up?” Hen asked, always perceptive. “Being the Captain?” 

“I have a good team. It’s not too bad,” Tommy said. “Different, I guess. I haven’t been on this many ground calls in a while.” 

She asked him about Harbor and as long as Tommy didn’t have to talk about the events of a week ago, he could discuss it. He could see Evan and Eddie listening in, but other than Chim, no one chimed in. 

After dinner they had a call out to an attempted suicide. He stood back and watched as Hen and Chim worked to get the guy out of the car he’d landed on after jumping off a building. His gaze then found Evan. 

Evan who was helping with the gurney and talking to the owner of the car. Evan who was capable and well meaning and who had been his replacement when he transferred. It would have been easier if Evan was less interesting and less adorable. He was straight, though, and there had been mention of a girlfriend. Tommy had crushed on enough straight guys to know how it went, but there was just something about Evan. Maybe it was the happy-go-lucky attitude, or how confident he was out on calls. Or maybe it was just how good he looked while wearing turnouts. 

By the time their shift ended, Tommy had been cajoled into joining them out for a drink. Eddie turned them down because he had a date with his wife. He almost expected Evan to excuse himself too in favor of spending time with his girlfriend, but instead he was happy to have an excuse not to go home. 

“You don’t have a home,” Chim said. 

Tommy looked between them. 

“Just because I’m staying with Maddie, doesn’t mean I don’t have a home,” Evan threw back. Turning to Tommy, he said, “I’ve started searching for my own place. It’s just hard.” 

Hen didn’t comment, but she shook her head and pat Evan’s arm. Tommy found all of it curious. 

At the bar, Tommy found himself in the booth with Evan to his left and as the night went on he felt like Evan had gotten closer and closer to him. He didn’t mind, liked the line of his warmth, and liked how every time Evan moved, he brushed up against him. It was dangerous, though, and Tommy couldn’t let this infatuation grow. 

“So, Tommy, you seeing anyone?” Hen asked. 

Tommy shook his head. “Not at the moment,” he said and this was his moment. It was presented to him perfectly. He just needed to say it. 

It was the time to tell them he dated men and that to be entirely clear they were first dates or hookups because Tommy was not luckily enough to find someone that wanted something deeper with him. Everytime he tried…well, Tommy just wasn’t lucky enough to find someone that fit. 

On apps they were all interested because of what he looked like and then he took the time to set up a date and then he was disappointed because those guys wanted to sleep with him and weren’t actually interested in getting to know him. Half the time they didn’t even want to go on a date as much as meet up for a romp in the sheets. The same thing happened at bars. He’d be approached, sure, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. Tommy was actually getting sick of trying. 

“Really?” Evan said. “But you’re so…I mean, who wouldn’t want to date you.” 

And then, Evan reached over and felt up his arm. His fingers lingered and Tommy glanced down at Evan’s hand and then back at Evan. Evan went pink and he dropped his hand to his lap as if he’d had no control over his hand. He coughed. 

“Sorry.” 

“That’s precisely why,” Tommy said. “Seems all anyone sees is the muscles.” 

“Their loss,” Evan said, staring at him. “You are definitely more than just brawn.” 

When he met Hen’s eyes, she looked like she was squinting at him. Tommy decided it was time he get their next round. He was surprised when Evan bumped his shoulder a moment later. 

“Wanted to help you carry,” Evan said, but he looked like it was actually more than that. 

“What is it, Evan?” 

Evan shifted on his feet. “I just…I wanted to say that I get it. Not, uh, not being seen for more than one aspect of who you are. I only met you today and I’m…I mean, you’re impressive.” 

“Impressive, huh?” Tommy asked, looking at him, askance. 

Evan was…was he blushing? Because the pink on his cheeks was definitely more than a result of the beers he’d drunk. 

“You fly helicopters,” Evan responded and seemed on the verge of listing other things, except the bartender arrived with the four beers he’d asked for. 

Tommy could have carried them on his own, but he let Evan grab two of them. When they got back in the booth, he tried to keep some space between them, but it didn’t matter for long. 

“Buck, you haven’t talked about Ali lately,” Hen said and it felt pointed even if Hen wasn’t looking at him. 

Evan leaned back. “She’s in Seattle for a few days,” he informed them. “Not much to say when I haven’t seen her in a while.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

Looking at Evan, Tommy couldn’t tell if that bothered him or not. He did see Hen and Chim share a look that Evan missed. Was there a story there? If there was, no one was willing to tell him.

[dairy-farmer]

Potential continuation to this ask (I think I was the original asker too lol): https://www.tumblr.com/dairy-farmer/745698630594396160/hmm-jason-having-some-weird-oedipal-feelings-where?source=share

In order to get free access to Tim and revenge against Bruce at the same time he uses the evidence he gathered to ruin Bruce. No amount of money could make a video of Bruce Wayne fucking his underage adopted son go away when it is spreading online like wildfire.

Jason elegantly gains custody of Tim by posing as his uncle Eddie who recently recovered from injuries after the destruction of Blüdhaven.

Jason also has evidence of enough superhero identities to threaten Tim into compliance.

And so starts the process of conditioning Tim into being Jason's perfect little mommy/house wife/fleshlight/breedslut

!!!!

oh tim plays at resistance at first, jason recognizes that. he knew it'd be the biggest mountain to overcome given the cult-like fervor bruce probably used to indoctrinate tim into letting him do things like making him be robin and sucking his cock. so jason is prepared for the crying and the tantrums and the attempt to escape and find a way to break bruce out of where he's being held in a cell in a half billion dollar bail pending the investigation. he's not getting out anytime soon because jason made sure to leave some fake trail about bruce's taxes and assests so the IRS has frozen all of bruce's accounts pending THEIR investigation.

jason knows dick has returned to the city and is picking up as batman and he knows from tapping his and barbara's comm line that the two are frantic and trying to clear bruce's name even though jason knows that no matter how hard they try they're not going to be able to prove the video is fake because it's not.

dick has broached trying to speak to tim but that avenue is closed as well because jason has filed a restraining order as 'eddie drake' against the whole wayne family. dick is trying to juggle being batman, clearing bruce's name, AND clearing his own because jason has pretty publicly stated as tim's "concerned" guardian that perhaps the entire family had known about the abuse going on and had kept quiet to protect bruce.

jason knows dick is taking that whole thing pretty personally. which means there's a good chance he'll continue avoiding tim out of shame for the moment- at least long enough to convince tim this was for the best.

that he'd enjoy being with jason and forming this little family unit with him.

especially since jason has something over other heroes, most notably their identities which he doesn't hesitate to use on tim to be able to fuck him the first time.

his and tim's first time together is even better than jason imagined it. bruce did a good job training his robin's little kiddie cunt. tim practically gets wet on command, jason doesn't even have to go down on him. he also slides in with barely any resistance, his pussy still tight enough for it to feel good as he slams into tim's sweet cunt, grunting and cursing while asking if this was how bruce did it.

tim doesn't even cry just whines and arches and rolls his eyes back in his skull because his body knows exactly how to act when a cock is shoved into his puffy little hole.

god jason hates to admit it but bruce did a damn good job training his robin. jason can fuck him fast and hard with barely a protest. tim does something with his muscles where he goes tight around jason and jolt around him, grunting with effort as he milks jason through an orgasm that has jason almost passing out from how good it is.

he made the right choice- fuck jason's never been more right in his life. he could barely even hold the whole 'fucking a teenager' against bruce. if he were him jason doesn't think he'd have been able to hold back either.

the first few days they're together jason spends them just fucking tim, taking him every way and everywhere in the little apartment he got them. he fucks tim until he'd too tired to even think of escaping, keeping him dumb from being fucked stupid and full of his cum.

he hides tim's clothes from him too, making him wander the apartment in wrapped sheets to protect his modesty while jason transitions him into his wife and mommy duties. jason uses those old 1940s tv shows that used to play all the time on the free channels jason would watch as a kid for inspiration.

he has tim shine his shoes, prepare his drink, iron his shirts, make him bacon nice and crispy but without all the fat rendered out. he kisses tim on the cheek, calls him 'dear' and 'sweetheart' and 'my girl'.

he treats tim all nice and soon...tim stops fighting so much. starts reaching up at jason while they're fucking, starts leaning into the kisses.

jason comes home with a gift of a silky and short powder blue nightdress and a pair of stockings with garters. it's what jason's mom used to wear around the house because willis had loved seeing her in tight short things. the way it hugged her and her little tits. willis had a jealous streak a mile wide. he'd hated when anyone made eyes at his cathy. even jason hadn't been safe. when his mom would dress up she'd put on a little makeup, slip on an old charm bracelet and some earrings and look so pretty. jason remembered thinking about how much prettier his mom looked but then he'd get a harsh smack on the head from his dad for looking at his mom 'like that' and get sent away to his room for the rest of the night.

jason didn't know if he really had been looking at his mom differently but it didn't really matter. when tim stands in front of him in a powder blue slip and stockings looking so sweet and nymp-like.

its the hardest jason has fucked tim in a while. tim squirms and whines under him, grinding his hips back against jason's as he hammers his cock into his perfect cunt while grunting out a 'mommy mommy mommy you look so pretty mommy i love you so much mommy'

jason cums hard, his whole body tembling as he snarls against tim's perfumed neck and tenses up at the hot jolts of cum splattering into tim's waiting womb.

jason won't deny trying to get tim pregnant.

bruce had tim taking nightly pills to make sure no unfortunate accidents happened but once jason took custody of tim that had stopped.

so it'd truly been a matter of time before tim got pregnant.

jason doesn't even test for it or stay vigilant or try to track tim's cycle.

just that a few months later tim's front starts getting a little rounder and his tits a little redder.

and jason realizes it as he has tim on his back with his legs on either side of jason's hips. and jason is all the way inside, pressed flush to tim's twitching cunt when he strokes tim's little bump and whispers reverntly-

"mommy," he breathes, "mommy i think i put a baby in you mommy, look-"

and tim, eyes soft and glazed strokes jason's cheek and just as softly coos yes and that jason is such a good boy for making a baby with mommy that jason's going to be a daddy soon and isn't that so nice?

the words please something so deep in jason and he and tim don't leave the bed for days, jason only able to chant 'mommy mommy mommy' against tim while thinking about how he put a baby in his mommy, that he made a baby with his mommy, that he was going to be a daddy.

it probably would have gone on for longer.

but then the doorbell rung and someone had made it clear they weren't leaving with the amount of knocking. so jason forces himself to get up, making sure tim is comfortable before getting the door.

dick is on the other side and his mouth that was parted to speak just falls open when he sees jason shirtless and in sweats answering the door.

jason watches as his stunned eyes register and catalog everything in front of him before mouthing a silent 'jason?'

jason hears rustling behind him and turns to see a glazed eyed and messy haired tim stumble and grip the corner of the hallway leading to their bedroom.

jason hears a sharp inhale beside him and a choked "tim?"

that's when he decides he's heard enough and prompty shuts the door, locking it with a chain and pressing a nearby button to turn on his special red hood security measures.

dickhead has made a mistake breaking the restraining order and jason will make sure to tell the officers that when they arrive.

after all, jason has a family to look out for now and he can't be having dangerous people showing up at his doorstep.

[the-wandering-mage]

Gotham Bats ruin and save Spiderman's Operation Nest

This is like a story concept written out for a Spider-Man Batfam crossover fic I don't have the time to write fully. This is more developed than a prompt but, still is thought I'd share and maybe you guys will enjoy it and/or somebody will pick it up and develop it into a fully fledged fic. So here it goes-

A more spidery Spider-Man is dropped into a DC universe right into Gotham. It's the beginning of fall in Gotham which is a problem for a Spider seeing as he is stranded in another universe with nothing but his Spidey suit and his AI companion. He has no access to the synthesized hormone cocktail he's been taking in the winter to keep him from going into hibernation. Now Peter could get together the stuff to synthesize the medication but, he need a stable place to set up a running lab to make it as he'd need it fresh and take it on the regular. That is a lot of work and resources he'd have to come up with and maintain. Also he is a depressed boi and a long nap actually sound really good. So instead of trying to set up a lab he starts Operation Nest. He is going to find a small enclosed space and prepare it for his long winters nest.

Peter also decides pretty quickly with all the crazy dangers of Gotham and all the warnings of what Karen was able to find after connecting to this world's version of the Internet to keep the suit on and just be Spider-Man full time. The suit would keep him safe from chemical attacks and the overall pollution of Gotham as well as keep him anonymous in the very likey event he has to use his powers to defend himself. Which will let him keep a nice civilian identity that Karen crafted come spring if he chooses to.

Peter's first two objectives in Operation Nest are to get money and find a location. The first Karen helps him with easily setting up a company, then filing and selling some benign patents, since this world is really behind in tech. She also helps him get more immediate cash without crossing into stealing just by doing online commissions for simple tech support type things while the patent money is still pending. Peter gets a laptop that he uses to help with some of the tech work even though Karen can literally do five jobs at once under several fake IDs she made herself.

Most of the day for Peter however is spent looking for real estate. Which is harder in Gotham than one might think considering the rival gangs, rival super villains constantly blowing up things, and all the homeless fighting over whatever is left of the abandoned buildings. The only good thing about all this is a giant spider nest will go relatively unnoticed amongst all the other craziness. Peter's adventures running all over Gotham trying to find a place to hunker down for a couple of months cause him to run into all sorts of characters.

Peter is in a weirdly apathetic state towards himself with all his trauma so he saves people obviously, and is still empathic, maybe more so with trying to get the villians to be better people and just talking with them like real people but, he is really basley about his own safety. He has already lost everyone he cares about and he's faced down Thanos, so none of the villians at this point faze him. He doesn't see them as a threat to himself. He ends up making a bunch of friends with villains by continuing what May believed in, what Ben believed in, and helps the villains out so they can hopefully make a change.

The bats hear about him and decide to investigate but all of them get terrible first impressions and they assume he's a villain or going to be one if they don't find him. Peter is OP and scary. He's not given up his friendly neighborhood spider-man but he has stopped trying as hard to look human type of friendly. He just has slow given into being a spider and is creepy. He also leaves spider webs everywhere, since his natural ones don't dissolve like the artificial ones that he uses sparingly. This also freaks them out and there is debate on whether what they are hunting is a meta human or an intelligent spider creature. Also at least one bat at the beginning runs into one of the webs and at least one gets temporarily stuck to a criminal they are trying to free from a cocoon

By the time the bats find Spider-Man they are all convinced that he's a villain plotting something big but really they've just been stalking Peter as he completes his to do list for Operation Nest. All the dangerous equipment and suspicious purchases from villains were really to get his nest set up. Peter knew his friends had some of the stuff he needed like a cytogenetic freezer to keep some of his food from spoiling over the course of a few months since he doesn't want anyone making deliveries to his house while he's hibernating. His friends were happy to help although he still paid them despite their insistence not to.

Karen thinks it's hilarious. Although they acknowledge itd be better to just explain the situation to the bats before Peter is in active hibernation and let them find them. They totally ruin their bust by opening the doors of a small dilapidated old tailors shop in the fashion district, where Peter had set up his nest in the basement. Peter isn't happy with them feeling very territorial. He wants them not to touch anything as he shows them into his nest. He warns them and they are a bit freaked out when he hisses at them when they inevitably ignore he's instructions out of curiosity but then settle a bit when they notice how tired he is. Cass probably gets them to back off. He explains things enough so they leave him to his hibernation with the promise of hanging out in the spring.

Or alternatively. Karen is too busy setting things up she doesn't notice with her smaller processing power disconnected from Stark Tech as she is to notice the Bats noticing them. Then she is being wired into the Nest when they start getting close so, she doesn't know they are closing in. Then she is doing system checks to make sure she is able to monitor Peter when he's hibernating and can use the machines and mechanical arms to help Peter for the parts of his hibernation he will be awake or partially awake to handle his bodily needs before cocooning back into his Nest made of his natural webs and blankets.

Karen doesn't know they are there until they break her perimeter alarms and she is forced to use her defensive measures since Peter has just gone into hibernation like a day ago. The bats having more resources than Karen at their disposal and coming at her from all angles breach her defenses and get into The Nest. Karen does her best to rouse Peter with alarms blaring but she is only able to get him into a semi state of consciousness. Not enough to move him without drugging him which would be dangerous for his health and with so many coming for her charge she does her best to throw her mechanically arms in front of him to guard him where he is.

The bats once they see a sleepy confused Peter with a strange woman's voice begging them to leave him alone they feel bad realizing they judged him wrong. Especially after seeing him adorably yawn with his fangs popping out.

[opencommunion]

"A formal investigation of the 'Situation in the State of Palestine' has been pending in the ICC for nearly three years. If the ICJ were to make a finding of genocide, the ICC would not have to determine that genocide has occurred. The ICC would just have to decide which individuals are responsible for the genocide. ... If a state party to the Genocide Convention were to submit the matter of Israel’s genocide to the ICJ, the court’s decision could have binding authority.

On December 12, Craig Murray, the U.K.’s former ambassador to Uzbekistan, attended a UN session in Geneva called by Palestine. More than 120 countries were represented. Murray spoke to several delegates about why no country has submitted the matter of Israel’s genocide to the ICJ.

'The answer is now clear to me,' Murray wrote. 'It is not that people are worried that a claim of genocide will not be successful at the International Court of Justice. It is that everybody is quite sure it will succeed.' 'The problem is that once the ICJ has determined that this is a genocide, it follows that not only are Netanyahu and hundreds of senior Israeli officials and military personally liable,' according to Murray. 'But it is absolutely plain that ‘Genocide Joe’ Biden, Sunak and members of their administrations are also criminally liable for complicity, having provided military support for the genocide.' Murray added, 'The International Criminal Court cannot ignore a judgment of genocide from the International Court of Justice and will have no choice but to issue arrest warrants.'"

🕯️🤲🏼🕯️🙏🏼🕯️ genocide joe has got to go to the hague🕯️🙏🏼🕯️🤲🏼🕯️

[softpascalito]

Beyond Saving - Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Javier is on office duty when he learns that someone close to you has passed, causing both of you to spiral.

Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader, Javier Peña & Reader WC: 1300 Tags/Warnings: can be read as romantic or platonic, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Suicide, Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Breakdown, Crying, Soft Javier Peña, Protective Javier Peña, Author urgently needs therapy, Trauma, she/her pronouns for reader Read on AO3

notes: please take the tags seriously. this is not a happy fic in any way. make sure your mental health is stable enough to read about the mentioned topics. more detailed warnings are on ao3 if someone needs them.

For my love.

Leave me, like you do (like you do). If you need me Wanna see me Better hurry 'Cause I'm leaving soon.

-‘listen before i go’ by billie eilish

It’s not one of those days that he thinks will be difficult. He doesn’t expect anything bad to happen. It’s not supposed to. But it does.

Javier never sees it coming.

He is seated at his wooden desk in the embassy, ready for a day loaded with frequent trips to the coffee machine and lots of paperwork. It’s his turn to file away reports. Reports that usually aren’t interesting to him, that aren’t relevant to his case. The numbers of the dead that are written down on the reports of the Colombian police stay numbers in his head. They don’t turn into the people they represent.

Until they do.

His coffee mug hits the floor a few moments after he reads the name. The brown liquid runs over the tiles, pooling in the crevices between them, as he reads the name again. And again.

Javi’s eyes fly to the cause of death. 

Investigation pending. Suspected suicide.

He doesn’t even grab his jacket as he stands up abruptly, the shards of the mug that held his coffee moments ago crunching under his feet. For all he knows, they could be piercing his skin and he wouldn't notice. His body acts of its own accord.

It's Steve who approaches him and it's Steve who realizes in an instant that something must be very wrong. 

“What is it?” The voice next to him is gentle but still stern enough to get through, “Javi?”

“I have to go.”

He is surprised at how solid his voice sounds compared to the feeling in his stomach, the one that makes him sway slightly on his feet, the impact of the world seemingly having stopped turning.

“Can you drive?”

At that, Javi clears his throat and nods, his brown eyes now flying up to meet the blue ones in front of him, “I'll be okay. I- I'll let you know.”

Steve's voice is low as he nods, “Okay.” As Javi turns to leave, the other man gently reaches for his hand, placing the car keys in them, “You'll need those.”

“Right,” is all he can choke out in return. He doesn't catch the way Steve watches him leave with a concerned look on his face or the sigh that leaves his lips as he reads the paper that is still on the desk next to him.

Javi functions on autopilot. He's not sure how he makes it to her apartment, how he remembers which pedal is for what, how he knows how to get his body to move out of the car and up the stairs.

The keys are already in his hand as he reaches the door but he doesn’t remember taking them out of his pocket.

The apartment is dark.

For a split second, he considers if she has left, if she has gone to see someone, the parents, maybe.

Then he hears a noise that sounds like a whimper, one that is so loaded with pain that it causes him to rush forward in an instant.

She is on the floor in the kitchen, back pressed tightly against the cupboard, knees drawn up to her chest, the entire form below Javi shaking with each small sob that reaches his ears.

Javi drops to his knees rough and uncoordinated, ignoring the pain that shoots through them and his back as he steadies himself and leans forward to cradle her in his arms, one hand sneaking beneath her knees as the other wraps around her back.

He immediately feels the reaction to his touch, as the sobs get worse and his heart breaks the way his coffee mug had earlier, with one quick motion, shattering into a million pieces that will be stepped on and discarded by someone who doesn't care for them.

“Estás bien. Estás bien, querida,” he mutters under his breath, repeating the phrase over and over, a phrase that he doesn't believe. There's no way she is even close to okay.

“I'll get you to the couch, okay?” Javi whispers as he gently scoops her up into his arms, taking the few steps over to the living room, focusing hard on his feet to make sure he won’t trip.

“Hold on to me,” he commands softly, making sure to take it slow as he lowers them both onto the leather sofa, his arms not once breaking their touch. He doesn't let up, trying to absorb the sobs and the trembling as much as he can. He wishes he could absorb the pain too.

“Estoy aquí. No te dejaré,” (I’m here. I won’t leave you,) Javi whispers, bringing one hand up to brush the hair away from her face, leaning back enough to look at her. He's met with messy hair and behind it with bloodshot eyes and a mixture of snot and tears, with pain and grief so evidently written on her face that he himself winces slightly.

Her voice shakes when she finally speaks, the first words she has spoken since the call. They feel wrong in her throat, like throwing up food that was already past its expiration date. They feel even worse when they reach the air of the room, floating between the two of them.

“How did you know?”

Javis eyes soften a little more at that. He doesn't even want to think about the fact that he only knew by chance, that it had been his shift to read the reports, that he wouldn't have had any way of knowing without it.

“Saw it at work,” he replies, honestly, keeping voice soft and his eyes carefully trained on her expression.

“So you know how…” She whispers and Javi nods quickly, not wanting her to say it out loud. Not wanting to hear it said out loud. 

It makes it feel too real.

“Do you know how?” He asks back, using his left hand to reach for a blanket and gently placing it around her shoulders, making sure it doesn't slide off.

“I don't know- I don’t know details. Just that-” A shuddering breath leaves her throat, “that it wasn't an accident.”

There is a fear in her eyes, one that Javi has never seen in her before. One he has seen in very few people. And he has seen enough bad and evil to last him several lifetimes.

Even in the dim light, he can clearly recognize it for a terror that is beyond comprehension, one that he will never be able to put into words.

“It wasn't an accident, was it?” She whispers again, her voice breaking and Javis grip around her tightens a little as he shakes his head.

“No.”

He suddenly feels like he's going to cry, even though he's not sure why. It still feels like the world stopped turning and like he’s stumbling against gravity, against a movement he was so used to until a moment ago. Like a faucet that’s been dripping for ages and finally runs dry or a screen that shuts itself off, fading to black. Like the movement of something inside his chest, inside of her chest, not only a movement that he doesn’t think he can live without but one that he actually cannot live without.

“No, it wasn't an accident,” he repeats, his hand still caressing her skin.

“I'm so sorry, cariño.”

Her face is buried in his chest again as she cries, hot tears leaving her eyes and finding refuge in his shirt. A blue one, the one that she complimented this morning while kissing him goodbye. Waving to him as he headed out the door, a smile on her face. A carelessness that is not only gone now but that seems beyond reach, that seems to be waiting for its funeral the same way the body in a morgue is, a few streets over. Cold and alone and above all, beyond saving.

[alocon]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [8] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko.

Summary: Mini chapter. When the FIA tries to stop you driving at the next grand prix weekend, the drivers decide to take a drastic, but necessary, turn to stand up for you.

Before you read: Use of Y/N

fc: Blanca Soler

[Previous Part] [Masterlist]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be- - MV¹ x Fem!OC

“So, question for Y/N.”

You were currently sat in the interviews before the next race, in a press conference with you, Lance, Zhou, Logan and Nico. You had been expecting this question when it came but had not expected it only 3 minutes into the questions.

“We hear you're under investigation by the FIA, would you like to expand on that and what you are under investigation for?”

“Yes,” you sat up in your seat, more than happy to speak. “I have been put under investigation for creating a hostile work environment since 2019. Apparently, I have been acting hostile towards Christian Horner, despite the fact its more like the other way around.” You shrugged.

“Right.” The interviewer shrugged. “And how might this affect your driving?”

“Well, pending the results of the investigation, they may, as a punishment, revoke my super licence.”

“So let me get this straight,” Crofty said, speaking up. “You're at risk of losing your racing licence because of you allegedly being hostile to the Team Principal of Red Bull Racing since 2019?”

I nodded.

Lance then spoke up. “I think it's suspicious that these rumours suddenly came around just after a podcast episode about some of her treatment at Red Bull and a post of her and Geri together.” He said. “It seems very strangely timed.”

“Almost like they're trying to silence her for Christian's actions.”

The drivers in the conference all started defending you, putting a smile on your face. It was sweet to see them all so defensive over you, instantly jumping to your protection without even being asked their opinions.

“It had been oddly timed.” You said. “All of a sudden, after me putting in a complaint about Christian Horner to the FIA, I was the one under investigation. I think that it's ridiculous to be honest. I provided evidence - more than enough. And yet I am still the one under fire.”

“I hear a lot of drivers and other staff are supporting you.” Crofty said. “Do you have anything to say to that?”

“Yes. I am so grateful for the way that the drivers have treated me, and other staff, both at Mercedes and other teams. I appreciate that they have been defending me to the FIA, and taking a stand with me against the unfair treatment that I have been under by Red Bull and the FIA in the past couple of weeks, and Red Bull since I joined.”

“So are you still racing this weekend?”

“No. They've told me I'm not allowed to race until the investigation is over.” you explained, frustrated.

The rest of the press conference went well and, soon, you were back in your drivers room and soon heard the door open. You looked up, seeing the drivers slip into your room. All of them.

“We're here to take your mind off of all the bullshit going on. So. We have fifa, Uno, monopoly, Mario Kart, we got your switch so you can play animal crossing if you want,” Lando began to list off everything.

You chuckled, smiling sweetly at them at the kind kind actions of going out of their ways to try to cheer you up. So that's what happened. You all sat on the floor talking, playing games, chilling out and discussing how to sort this out when Charles came up with an idea.

“A strike.”

“A what?” You looked at the Monegasque, confused at the sudden outburst.

“We could go on strike. Refuse to race until Horner is gone and the investigation is dropped.”

There were some cheers from the drivers.

“Guys. What?” You said when you saw the agreements. “You don't have to do this.” you said.

“Let's vote then.” Charles said. “All in favour?” 19 hands went up. “All against?... Then it is decided.”

After some planning, it was in order.

El Plan (2025 Driver's Strike edition)

Step One: Pack our stuff.

You all got to work, packing out bags, everything we needed.

Step Two: Prepare the vehicles.

That went by quickly too.

Step Three: Tell Our Team Principals

You walked into the emergency meeting with George and Toto, sitting down.

“What's this about? What's going on?” He asked, confused.

“We're going on Strike,” George announced.

“You're doing what?”

“This wasn't my idea,” you started. “But one of the drivers suggested a full driver Strike. Because of the investigation.”

George started explaining the details. The plan. Afterwards, there was a moment of silence.

“Fair enough,” Toto said. “I wouldn't be able to stop you and to be honest, I don't even want to. I don't want you losing your seat, Y/N. Go wild. Have fun. Call me when you're off strike and keep me updated, yes?” He said. You and George looked at each other, surprised it went so well.

Over in the Red Bull office, it wasn't going as well.

“You're doing what?” Christian snapped, angrily.

“Going on strike.” Max leant back in his chair.

“Until the investigation is dropped, we will not race.”

“This is insane! What is wrong with you?” He snapped angrily. “You shouldn't do it if you want your contract renewed, Max.”

“I'm sure there are other teams who would happily take me,” He said standing up, walking straight out the door without another word, being quickly followed by his teammate.

Step Four: Announce the Strike.

“Right, hello,” Crofty said, looking at the camera. “So, we've got a sudden broadcast request from the drivers so… that's what is happening here.”

Bernie spoke up. “We have no idea what this is about. Take it away.”

Your designated speakers - Charles and Max - stepped up to take the mics.

Max got up his script. “Today, Charles suggested something and we did a vote, getting back unanimous agreement.”

“All of the drivers on the current Formula One grid will be going on strike. None of us will drive until our demands are met.” Charles paused before speaking again. “Demand Number One: The investigation on the Mercedes-AMG Petronas driver, Y/N L/N, is dropped. The treatment she has received from both Red Bull and the FIA recently, and since 2019, has been absolutely unacceptable. They are trying to silence her and stop her from racing, so if she can not race, we will not race.” He looked at Max, nodding for him to read the next demand.

Max smiled, looking at the camera. “Deman Number Two: Christian Horner is removed as the team principal of Red Bull Racing indefinitely and an investigation is opened on Red Bull, Christian, and the head of the FIA. I should've stood up for the treatment of Y/N back in the day, and I didn't. But I will do it now. The treatment she had endured was something I would never wish on a driver. The constant hours of berating her for doing her job, and blackmailing her by threatening to reveal that she miscarried are unacceptable and they, Christian especially, should be taken into account.”

“We want to make it clear that this was not the decision or suggestion of Y/N L/N. This was entirely my suggestion, and all of the drivers instantly agreed. Do not send her hate for this. We will ensure that anyone who has attended any races or paid to attend any of the races get compensated somehow, and we will ensure that every single person who has paid to attend the races gets an apology that it has had to go this far. Action will not be taken until we make a drastic move, so this is our drastic move.” Charles then said his final sentence. “None of us will drive until our demands are met.” Charles repeated again.

-word count: around 1,300-

Hi All!!

Hope you're well. Here is a mini chapter for the Max story. Expect some drivers' strike chapters soon. This is unedited. Love you all x

Have a good day

Alocon

Taglist: @c-losur3 @itsjustkhaos @reidsworld @d3kstar @casperlikej

[wifegideonnav]

i haven't seen much about this on here, so for people who don't know, nex benedict was a nonbinary and native 16 year old who was severely beaten in a fight with (currently unidentified) bullies and died the next day (feb 8 2024). police are now claiming that the injuries, including serious head trauma, were not the cause of death, and that the cause is still unknown pending the results of other tests.

while this go/f*n/dme has far surpassed its initial goal, the family definitely needs all the financial help they can get. they have now put out a statement that they will be conducting a private investigation into the incident. every penny counts for this family as they pursue justice for their child, and they have promised that any excess funds will be put towards supporting other lgbt children.

[additionally: the gfm deadnames/misgenders nex, however the mother very quickly posted an update apologizing for the mistake. make sure you read the note before you get mad]

[nightwngz]

LIPS RED ENOUGH TO KILL A BIRD !

tim drake x fem!oc

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . smut. porn with plot. age gap (the original character is older for 13 years, but Tim is legal age), fem dominance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, the original character is a villain, probably this may have a part two. Teasing, oral sex, riding, dirty talk, fingering and hair pulling.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I had this idea a long time ago and I want to share it with you. On the other hand, I have a few pending requests, but I'm working on all of them, so don't worry. Enjoy, and I hope you like it. 🌷

She was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met.

Don't get him wrong, he could admire the beauty of a female villain without being completely attracted to her. But he swore he had never met anyone like Adeline, known to the Gotham Mafia as "The Queen of Hearts," so fierce and domineering that she could easily take your head off.

Batman had been in contact with her since Dick Grayson was Robin, and Tim had heard stories of her iconic fame throughout his training. She was even described as a woman who used her physical attractiveness as a method of hunting and getting what she wanted.

It was just a rumor. Until Tim Drake finally met her.

She was dangerous. Neither the Falcone family, nor Maroni, nor even Two-Face dared engage in illegal activity in the territories she protected. She ran every criminal organization in Gotham, and the rest were probably just her subjects. Because of this, she has always had an extreme rivalry with Batman, as they competed to be the most feared figures in the city.

And besides, Adeline was fascinated by the hunt, but Batman would never be her prey, but unfortunately the little bird would not have the same luck as the bat.

After a period of apparent inactivity by the Queen of Hearts, during which she was actually plotting in secret, the current Robin was forced to relinquish his mantle to Damian Wayne. Now an independent vigilante, he called himself Red Robin. It was at this moment that the Queen began to play her cards again and regain her influence as the most prominent figure in Gotham's criminal underworld.

These were reasons enough for Red Robin to be forced to investigate her.

It didn't take him long to realize that she was an incredibly smart woman. She managed every part of her plan to perfection. Thanks to old files, he was even able to learn that she built her own empire all by herself, without anyone lifting a finger to help her. She had easily earned her place in Gotham's underworld.

She and her clan were a cancer that Tim Drake had to eradicate from Gotham before it was too late.

Adeline returned to her penthouse that night, and Red Robin waited for her in the shadows of her living room. The apartment was so spacious that only an incredibly paranoid person would think someone was hiding there; she was probably one of those people.

She approached the long leather sofa, her red stiletto heels echoing on the floor with each step. The room was still dark and Tim stood at the far end, admiring her curvaceous, graceful silhouette as she sat down and lit a cigarette.

— Do you smoke? — She asked, aware of the vigilante's presence.

He did not answer.

— Mm... my doctor told me to stop. But it's the only way to calm my anxiety. Strange, isn't it? How many packs of cigars does a Mafia leader have to smoke to be completely calm?

Her voice was just like her: attractive, haughty, and most of all, sharp as a razor or even a playing card.

— You killed five men on the docks last week. I want to know why — He ordered, as if she was somehow obligated to give him answers.

However, she smiled with incredible superiority. Despite the distance, Tim could tell that her lips were painted with a deep red lipstick. She had an exaggerated obsession with the color red, but he couldn't blame her, considering how good it looked on her.

— You know very well, dear little bird, that everything in this world is governed by two things — She said, and started to walk towards the standing figure of Tim, who was standing on the mat in the room. —Love and money... and believe it or not, I am very selective about the things I lend, so you can already guess what happens when someone in this city owes me money for a long time. Bills are bills, Boy Wonder.

Tim was completely silent as soon as he heard the woman say his former nickname. How could she know that he was the former Robin?

— You're wrong about the nickname, Queen. I have no relationship with Robin, let alone Batman.

She approached without taking the smile off her face for a moment. She circled the man's figure, touching his hair with her gloved hand, teasing him.

— Don't try to fool me, Red Robin. I know everything there is to know in this city, which is everything. I know about you, how you were replaced. You were neither the first nor the last Robin Batman had, with the incredibly handsome Nightwing being the first and the red-hooded mercenary the second. If you lift a stone in this city, I know it. I have informants on so many sides, you probably won't know when you meet one. So don't try to play my game with me, I made it, and that's why I always win.

Tim felt like he was being devoured by Adeline's withering gaze every second. He felt cornered, contained, disappointed that he had underestimated her and believed that she didn't know everything about him, his past and his family.

— So... you probably know that I have been investigating you. I've been watching your every move for months.

She moved closer, so close that Tim could have sworn he felt her lipstick on his ear, and whispered:

— On the rooftops, in the windows of the buildings in front of this penthouse, everywhere I go, nothing escapes me, little bird. And although I've always loved the hunt, I must admit that this cat-and-mouse game you're playing is turning me on.

He wasn't quite sure how he had left her apartment that night without being attacked by her henchmen or her guards, but even though she was aware of it, Tim continued to watch her from a distance. He came to believe that the Queen of Hearts was so used to being followed that she didn't even flinch when she learned that she was a victim of it.

She went all over the city, from that fancy bar in Chinatown to certain abandoned businesses in the Warehouse District and finally to the same address as always: her apartment on the east side of the city.

From the moment Tim saw her through the large window, sitting on her couch, he knew Adelaine was waiting for him. With those black eyes, she seemed to be inviting Red Robin to pay her a visit. And under no circumstances could Timothy Drake refuse.

Adeline was not surprised to see the black silhouette in the room again. It would be a lie to say that she had inadvertently neglected the security of her apartment; deep down, she knew that Red Robin was trained to overcome even the tightest security systems. After all, he had been trained by Batman.

— You disabled the alarms. — He said, walking slowly toward her. — Were you expecting visitors?

A mischievous smile lit her lips. He noticed that she looked even more stunning than the last time, even though she was alone in a silk robe and classic red polish on her nails, enjoying a bottle of wine. Without a doubt, she was dazzling.

— Honestly, I was just waiting for you — She admitted, leaving Tim perplexed. — Did you enjoy spying on me from the rooftops today, as usual? This time it was even adorable; no man had ever shown that level of interest in me before.

Red Robin was distracted when he noticed a brown folder on the coffee table that appeared to be a collection of files. Confidently, he picked up the folder, eager to discover its contents.

— What is this? — He asked, lifting the folder so that the distinguished woman could examine it.

— Open it and you will know. No fear, little bird.

As he opened the folder, Tim froze. It contained a detailed file on himself: Timothy Drake Wayne. The document covered his childhood, the death of his parents, his legal adoption by Bruce Wayne, his career as Robin and additional details about his current alias. Unable to react, he simply studied the contents in silence.

Tim placed the documents back on the coffee table and watched her in surprise. He had profoundly underestimated Adeline, even going so far as to think he might be able to surpass her in intelligence and strategy.

— Believe me, I was also surprised to discover that the most influential family of millionaires in the city dressed up as vigilantes and fought crime. — She confessed, her classic red lipstick smile sending shivers down the young man's spine. — Though I must admit I wasn't surprised to discover that Bruce Wayne's third son was my stalker bird, I expected nothing less from a man as formidable as he.

Slowly, she approached him and motioned for him to sit down. Tim felt himself tense, aware that Adeline knew his secret identity. Now it was up to her to decide whether or not to reveal it to the world. He was sure that Adeline would not keep such a revealing secret without getting something in return.

— What do you want from me? — He asked. He was sure that even if she revealed his identity, he would not give in to blackmail or make deals with the mafia.

— Nothing from you. — She replied, approaching him and resting her hand on his knee — What Red Robin or Tim Drake may have is of no interest or use to me. To reveal your identity would expose you to my enemies, and I do not wish to do that. There is, however, something I can offer you.

He was on the verge of despair, convinced that he would have to reject any offer she made. But Adeline was breathtaking. He couldn't help but desire her and wonder what it would be like to feel her red lips and smooth, manicured skin. Her exquisite perfume almost intoxicated him. He knew he was behaving badly and would regret it later, but he thought he should not give in under any circumstances.

The next thing he knew, she was straddling him. Despite his attempts to pull away, Tim's body would not follow the commands of his brain. Instead, she placed her hands on his bare thighs and he closed his eyes, allowing her to devour his neck, leaving marks that would probably last for days.

Her robe had slipped down, revealing red lace underwear that immediately caught Tim's attention. Accustomed to her perfectly clothed body, she looked even more sensual than usual, half naked.

— I... — He hesitated, struggling to control himself. — I shouldn't.

Adeline pulled her lips away from Tim's neck and looked up at him with her classic mischievous smile, although this time her lipstick had smudged a little.

— You shouldn't, but you want to. And we both know you won't be able to resist.

Fuck, she was right. In her presence, Tim felt himself questioning his own intelligence. For a moment he decided to let her be right. After all, as she had told him, the queen of hearts always wins at her own game.

He sealed his lips with hers in a passionate kiss, accepting that he could not resist his urges. He kissed her with the intensity of one who surrenders at the last moment, and she reciprocated with the same fervor, allowing her tongue to meet his.

Tim soon realized that she was in control of the situation. Although they were both on the bed and he was naked, she remained clothed and dominated the scene by being on top of him.

— Fuck, what a good boy — She whispered, leaning down to kiss his chest and trace the contours of his torso with her lips. Tim shivered with excitement as he felt the brush of Adeline's lips on his defined abs, and then her tongue sliding along the curve of his waist. — But too impatient, I see.

Tim quickly grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans. At that moment, Adeline descended until she was in front of his thighs and saw his towering erection, dripping with pre-cum.

A smile lit up her face. Gently, she began to caress him, instantly sensing the pleasure Tim was getting from her caresses and the woman's graceful movements. He moaned intensely against the fabric of the pillow and moved instinctively to pull her closer.

— Fuck, fuck... — He groaned, biting his lip.

Tim looked up and watched as Adeline stroked his hair, her eyes fixed on his body. Her hands moved gently down his cock, even going so far as to gently circle the head. From her perspective, the image was stunning; she had never been with a man in his twenties who looked so incredibly attractive. Despite his disheveled hair and the beads of sweat that accentuated his toned abs, he looked magnificent.

— Fuck, baby bird, you couldn't look hotter. — She told him, leaving short kisses on both sides of his inner thighs. — I want to devour you.

Immediately, Tim brought his hands up to Adeline's hair as she worked on his erection. Through her underwear, he could see the obvious wetness that showed her arousal. Meanwhile, she watched him enjoy her action and noticed the veins in his arms stand out as he held her hair.

Although she was an expert at it, she found it difficult to get something that big into her mouth without running the risk of gagging. Although the idea turned her on, she would not allow Tim to fuck her mouth. She was in charge, so things would be done her way.

— I'm going to cum. — He moaned loudly.

Since discovering her sexual attraction, she had found that she had a weakness for male moans. Tim's moans, however, were different; they were so hot that they completely captivated her.

— Hang in there like a big boy. — She said, pulling away for a moment to look at him — You'll have to fill me up later.

Tim was overcome with despair. He didn't know how long he could keep his cock in the woman's mouth before he climaxed and spurted down her throat.

He began to recall unpleasant moments in his life, hoping to distract himself and extend the time. After barely two minutes, however, he realized that he couldn't hold out much longer and that if she was going to fuck him, she should start now.

— Fuck me now, please. — He begged, almost crying. — I don't think I can resist much longer.

She paused for a moment and pulled away to remove the rest of her clothes. Then she approached him again and straddled him.

Tim watched her and was shocked to see her naked and realize how unbelievable it was that a woman like her was with him. Especially considering that although he was of age, she probably still thought of him as a young man.

— All right, baby bird. You've done surprisingly well. And for your good fortune, I usually reward those who behave.

Without thinking too much about it, she moved gracefully on his hips, allowing him to fill her completely. In a way, it was she who was enjoying herself, moving her hips to enjoy herself and at the same time to see him enjoying as well.

Tim struggled inside, aware that she was in control, but wanting to please her at the same time. He considered sliding his fingers to her pussy, and to his relief, Adeline moved to allow his touch.

As he had suspected, she was completely wet. Her clit responded immediately to his caresses, causing her to tremble with pleasure, which made her moan softly. Meanwhile, Tim caressed her throbbing clit with his fingers while Adeline's hips continued to move on him.

— Who assured you that keeping your identity secret would be free, little bird?

[femsolid]

So the french police killed a teenage boy during a traffic stop. They asked for his identification papers and he refused to give it to them. They shot him in the head and he died on the spot. They later claimed that he was charging at them when they shot him, but someone recorded the scene on their phone and it showed no such thing.

This caused a lot of upset, especially in all the "sensitive" neighbourhoods where they pile the poorest people, typically people of colour, and where the police is known to be harassing and assaulting people a lot. Men and boys manifested their anger by rioting, burning cars and garbage bins or destroying and looting shops all around France. It isn't very smart as they are typically destroying their own neighbourhoods or their neighbours' property, who are just as poor as them. And who comes when that happens? The police.

The french police has built quite the reputation during the yellow vest protests, it's notorious for being the most violent, racist and sexist police in Europe. They typically use rubber bullets against protestors which are still dangerous weapons: they aren't supposed to be used at close range nor to be aimed at the head and obviously shouldn't be used on people who pose no threat. That's not what the police does with it of course, during the yellow vest protests we used to count how many people were loosing their eyes, some had their hands ripped off, and there were countless videos of policemen aiming at random protestors who weren't doing anything, and aiming at close range too. So what happened next should come as no surprise.

During the night of the riots a young man was shot in the thorax and died. Another lost an eye. More than 30 people have registered a complaint to the police of the police (not very efficient, as we've come to understand) for assault and injuries caused by the police during that night. But one specific case shocked the nation, that of a young man who was just passing by and was assaulted by the police, who didn't ask for any sort of identification and left him for dead. They took him to a back alley and beat him senseless, broke his jaw and shot him in the head. He lost a part of his head, literally, it had to be removed. He's now blind from one eye. They did this to a young woman during the yellow vest protests as well. She also was not a protester and was just passing by. In both cases the police is not looking to make an arrest, they are lashing out, like a rogue militia, and leaving the person for dead. It's up to us, the civilians, to help the dying person and call for an ambulance. The person is left with permanent disabilities and trauma. In fact, in recent years a lot of people have developped trauma reactions towards the police, some were first time protesters, peacefully marching on a sunday afternoon and did not expect to be charged by a mob of policemen, to be insulted, gased and shot at. The population's trust in the police has plumeted.

But in this case, one of the policemen involved in the assault was identified and is currently in jail pending investigation. As a result, the police, nationwide, is going on a strike. Yes, apparently when one of them is temporarily jailed for an obvious and extremely violent crime, they get outraged. Their unions called for a strike to show their support to their incarcerated colleague. Policemen support each others as they commit crimes, publicly, with the director of the police saying that a policeman's place is not in jail if he hasn't be trialed yet. Since policemen are not allowed to go on strikes, not legally, they went to the doctor and asked to be put on sick leave. It's not really a strike if you're still getting paid but they aren't used to protesting so we'll excuse them, maybe shoot them in the face to show them how it works? The police unions are asking the government to create a special status for police officers preventing them from being jailed while they are investigated for crimes committed while on duty. I guess they really think the law shouldn't apply to them. They also ask that policemen become anonymous, impossible to identify. Make it more obvious why don't you?

All the french racists are in full support of the police right now, saying that, yes, shooting "thugs" is totally acceptable (thug = arab = french guy with north african parents or grandparents). Someone on twitter counted how many men with arab names had been participating in the riots and thought he was making a point against immigration. But the fact that it's mostly black and brown people who are poor and live in ghettos says more about France than about "arabs".

Anyway that's the state of things in my country.

[anim-ttrpgs]

"All our projects" so there's other ANIM projects in production? anything you're able to talk about?

Yes, we plan to have a long-running career in the TTRPG space, and have several backburnered!

I’m just gonna rapid-fire these off the top of my head. We don’t know exactly which one of these is coming after Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released, because it is actually our patreon subscribers that vote on that.

Mastadon(title pending)

Yes, this is intentionally misspelled though we might change that in the future in case it hinders search results and stuff. This is a world where dark fantasy and 90s retro-futurism collide, literally. Think of knights with machine guns, space marines with enchanted swords, high-calibre rounds leaving dents in mythril breastplates, and men-at-arms on cybernetic horses. In the distant future of 2016, a scientific experiment on a lunar research station opened a portal to another world. At the same time, in a dimension of sorcery and feudalism, a council of wizards opened a portal to another world, and explorers from each land found themselves in the same mysterious place.

Cultures and technologies have clashed and mixed in these mysterious lands since. The PCs are mercenaries, taking odd, usually violent, jobs to get by.

Gameplay-wise it’s largely a combat-focused dungeon crawler emulating retro-FPS combat in TTRPG form, with an emphasis on making every type of gun feel totally unique by tying them to entirely different dice mechanics, which in turn makes warriors using these guns strategize entirely differently.

Bone Grinder

Bone Grinder is a “dumber” game, but still with an emphasis on combat. It has a notably more punk and metal aesthetic. Imagine a rocker with a mohawk and leather jacket killing a demon with an axe guitar that is also actually an axe. One of the core mechanics is that players will “bone” the game master by “throwing the bones” at them, which means literally trying to hit them with dice. A successful hit will add a bonus to whatever dice roll comes up when the thrown die lands. When it is the monsters’ turns, the game master will throw that same die right back at them. So if you throw a D6, that’s a D6 attack coming back at your PC next turn. If you throw a D20, that’s a D20 attack coming back at your character next right, so you better make it count, better kill ‘em in one shot!

(We recommend using plastic dice for this one, no metal dice!)

Death Bed

This is another working title, and it is a very serious attempt to emulate Dark Souls and Dark Souls style combat in a turn-based TTRPG in response to the abysmal Dark Souls: The Role-Playing Game that was just a lazy D&D5e book.

This game will be a bit more OSR-y, with D20 roll-under mechanics like old-school D&D for skill checks, and very simple attack determinants. It will have an emphasis on predicting enemy movement, stamina management, and choice between blocking or dodging attacks. It will also feature a system whereby the PCs are not permanently dead after being killed, but do “hollow” after each death. There are several stages of hollowing, each with downsides and upsides. Fully alive PCs will be more nimble, alert, and powerful, but stand out more to mindless hollow enemies, drawing more aggro. More hollowed PCs will have stat debuffs, but hollows are less likely to attack other hollows, giving them less aggro priority. Of course, if a PC dies too many times without restoring their life force, they will become a mindless hollow themselves, becoming an enemy that the party must slay if they want to recover that PC’s equipment.

Untitled Mushroom Game

A working title of course. This game takes a lot of inspiration from the earlier Paper Mario games, and like Bone Grinder, it will have actual physical things you can do with the dice to gain bonuses to your characters’ attacks, which is meant to emulate the “action commands” from Paper Mario in TTRPG format. One example would be building a larger dice pool for an attack based on how many D6s you can stack into a tower before they fall down, with the tower falling down constituting the rolling of the dice.

Eureka Adventure Modules Vol. 2

(Vol. 1 is the set of adventure modules that are coming with the Kickstarter.) Eureka fully releasing won’t mean we’re done with it. We plan to support all of our games for as long a time as possible with new adventure modules and other supplements. (But expect the other supplements to be very cheap if not outright free. We don’t want to make Eureka a game where you have to buy 15 $50 books just to have the full experience.) This will be a set of 5, 10, maybe more pre-written adventure modules for use with Eureka. For a few teasers, one of our ideas features the PCs getting stranded in the Mojave desert, one of them features the PCs getting trapped in underground drainage tunnels with a mysterious creature stalking them, and more horrifying mysteries.

The Eureka Mobster Manual

Another working title, but it’s pretty catchy. This will act as a “monster manual” for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, featuring prémisse stats and GMing advice mundane NPCs like cops, mafia enforcers, hapless bystanders, etc. and also actual monsters, both human and inhuman. One of the monsters I am most excited about introducing is actual demons. Not just some red guy with horns, in fact they’re likely to be completely invisible. I know this term gets thrown around a lot by people who don’t know what it means, but in Eureka demons will be more “biblically accurate.” Think more The Exorcist and less DOOM. A demon doesn’t want to go “blahrarawa!” and kill you, a demon wants to gradually talk you into killing yourself. This also may feature additional playable monsters, such as the gorgon and dullahan(Kickstarter stretch goals for the main rulebook that I don’t think we’re going to meet unfortunately), plus others if we can come up with more.

Overdose

A working title again. This will be a large collection of “drag-and-drop” tactical combat encounters for Eureka, for when a GM needs a fleshed out and challenging final showdown between the PCs and the bad guy goons. These will feature plenty of cover, alternate routes, and “woo roll elements”(stuff that can get knocked over, exploded, destroyed, etc. by stray bullets, thereby changing the environment in exciting and unexpected ways.). All of this is so that the GM doesn’t have to come up with all the complexities of a good Eureka combat encounter on the fly.

That’s about all I can think of right now. After Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released and the dust is settled, we will hold a vote with out patreon subscribers to find out what the fans most want us to work on next.

However, all of these things that I have mentioned are in a very raw state of completion, or even just in the idea stage. If you want to see all these projects, and more, release in the coming years, then RPG-making needs to be a long-term viable career for us. I, personally, am disabled and have a very hard time finding regular, sustainable work at “real jobs,” so this is especially important for my financial future. It’s about the only (marketable) skill I’m good at, and it’s something I enjoy doing, so I’m making this push now for my future.

The best way you can make this a viable long-term career for us is to support the Eureka Kickstarter (only 24-hours left at the time of posting this), buy our games, and subscribe to our Patreon.

The more successful the Kickstarter is, not only does more art and stuff get added to the Eureka rulebook and adventure modules, but the more buzz it generates, and the more buzz it generates the more journalistic support and more financial support we get. Even if it’s just for charity purposes to help me pay future bills when I can’t hold a normal job, pledging $10 is enough to get your name in the Eureka rulebook, and if you can’t give anything, we totally understand—we’d rather you put food on your table than go broke supporting our dreams. If you can share the Kickstarter to discord servers and the like in the last 24 hours of its crowdfunding window, or just share news of the game with people after the Kickstarter closes, that is a huge huge help on its own.

We, and especially I, am thankful beyond my ability to express in words for how much support the Kickstarter has already gotten, and the patreon subscribers whose support paid for all of our advertising budget to get Eureka as well-known as it is. This is a project of extremely professional scope and calibre, and I’m proud to say that we probably shouldn’t have been able to pull it off with as small a team as we are, we’re just that talented and persistent, but no matter how talented or persistent we are, it is the fans and supporters that make it possible for us to pursue a creative career. Thank you all.

24 hours left on the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Kickstarter, crowdfunding closes at 2:00 PM CST on Friday, May 10th! That’s mid-day tomorrow! Please support it while you still can! If you’re reading this after the Kickstarter has closed, you can support us through ko-fi or patreon, and if you’re a $5 subscriber or more to our patreon, you will get regular PDFs of increasingly finished beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and its adventure modules as we continue to work on finishing it using the Kickstarter money.

You can also help us by checking out our merchandise!

If you just want to play, you don’t have to pay. You can get a beta PDF of the Eureka rulebook plus character sheets and adventure modules FOR FREE from our website or itch.io page.

Join our TTRPG Book Club We nominate, vote on, and split into groups (based on schedule compatibility) differnt indie games, then discuss, just like a book club! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.