#i had to MAIL IT TO THE EMBASSY

[cinematicnomad]

i finally got my passport back WITH my ghanaian visa!! my upcoming trip to ghana and nigeria officially feels REAL! 

[pedrostylez]

How The Crow Flies: pt. 1

Javier Peña x fem!reader x Frankie Morales crossover

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Summary: Introduction into the HTCF world, Peña is a menace

Chapter Warnings and Disclaimers: 18+ only. I am not responsible for what you read on the internet. You have been warned! Locations and descriptions of places may be inaccurate in comparison to each story (Narcos and Triple Frontier). Timelines are obviously different between the two stories, so we are going to meet in the middle and say we are in the early 2000s. These are not necessarily canon characters in regard to how they act, how they treat people, and their current relationships. mean!Javier, violence, dubcon, SMUT!!!!!, anger, fighting, PTSD, mentions of rape, derogatory use of slut, whore, and the like

Please support by commenting, sending me respectful thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you!

Taglist: @thevoiceinyourheadx @suzdin @survivingandenduring @bariskaplans @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi (please let me know if I missed anyone that was interested or if you would like to be added)

You used to be new to Colombia. 

You had never really thought you would be invited to the Embassy as a guest DEA agent, struggling to pull your bag through the airport with your purse in your other hand, but you’d made it-and the heat was different from Miami heat. 

But you had worked hard in Florida, stopping drugs from passing through the border, starting your career in the mail office, and working your way up. 

You stood on the docks of Miami undercover so many times that you were considered the local siren, stopping drug mules in their tracks just to talk to you, only to find out that you were there to bust them. 

Your coworkers, male and female alike were proud of you, happy for you. You had been blessed with people who surrounded you and were supportive. 

When you got to Colombia it was like you were back at square one. 

Your boss, the well-known Javier Peña, had a stick up his ass. 

“Would you give these to Noonan?” Peña had swept by, plopping papers on your desk before trying to run further away. 

You stopped him, holding out your hand and wrapping your fingers around his suit sleeve. “Sorry, sir. But what are they?”

“You don’t need to know that.” He scoffed, pulling his arm from your grasp. “You’re sitting in one of my agent’s chairs, and I need you to bring that to Noonan as soon as you’re done setting up her computer.”

You scoffed back, standing up and placing a hand on your hip. His eyes followed your hand, eyebrows raised in interest until you said your name. “I am the agent that sits at this desk, Peña.”

“My apologies.” He said quietly with no hint of actual remorse. “Still, please bring that to Noonan. Our new employee meeting starts in five minutes.”

You immediately regretted wearing the pencil skirt, thinking it would be a good first impression as if that was the reason that Javier Peña had mistaken you. From then on you wore cargo pants and a fitted t-shirt, like the rest of the team, arguing with your boss at every corner. 

“I told you to stay here. And what did you do? You fucking went out there anyways.” Peña had this thing about slamming the door to make a point, even though everyone could clearly see into his office where you were standing, arms crossed, eyes rolling toward the ceiling. 

“Jason said he needed help. I helped him.” Standing your ground came naturally, and Peña clearly hated it. He wanted you to bend over backward for him, just like Jason, and just like David.

“You don’t need to help him by getting yourself killed.” Peña gritted out, turning to you before sitting at his desk.

A quick mumble came out of your mouth, “Would rather do that than push your pencils around like some secretary.”

“Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of the time you’re here? Because if that’s the case then maybe you should go back to Miami.” He was back standing, pointing at you and what he assumed was the general direction of Florida. Sweat beaded at his hairline, eyes dark with annoyance. 

“I’m not holding anything against you, boss.” You snark, twisting around to the door to look out into the bullpen, where everyone is pretending to not watch. “Are we all done here?” 

Peña was quick to brush you off after staring, motioning at the door resting his hands on his hips, and pacing behind his desk. 

But then after a successful mission, Peña brought you and the others out for drinks. A Friday celebration for “catching the bad guys” as Jason had always said, downing the free beer that his boss provided. 

You were all for taking advantage of Peña’s money if he was going to pay for drinks. Quick to order tequila sodas, letting them slide down your throat like water and sway back and forth as you spoke with office staff and the other agents. 

You avoided Peña like the plague. Any time you turned your head you saw his back towards you, speaking to any girl he could find that wasn’t part of the team he was paying for. 

One too many tequila sodas had you stumbling to the bathroom, struggling with the button of your pants, and taking much longer than you had the last time you went. You were thinking that it is about time to take yourself home, walk down the sidewalk for some fresh air, and then hail a cab, but when you finally manage to get out of the bathroom of this bar, your coworkers are filing out. 

“Where are y’all going?” You slur to Jason who is holding the door open for one of the archive girls. It’s like he doesn’t even hear you, stepping through the door wrapping his arm around her shoulder, and whispering in her ear. 

You mumble out a few curse words, turning toward the bar counter where that same head that you had been staring at all night is now facing you. His eyes are watchful, glass to his pouted lips as he takes a sip of what looks to be whiskey. “You want water?”

“Another tequila would be nice.” You perk up, slouching into the seat next to him with hooded eyes. In the back of your mind, you’re aware that you will be having a hangover tomorrow but don’t care enough to stop it. 

Peña motions at the bartender, nodding at you to indicate that you would like another drink. He takes a beat before saying, “So, you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” You hiccup, furrowing your brow as the bartender sets a glass in front of you. You take a sip, noticing that there is no fizz, and know immediately that you’ve been cut off. “Damn, he gave me a water.”

He chuckles, draining his glass and turning fully towards you. His eyes scan behind you and the surrounding area before settling on your face. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were Noonan’s secretary.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You sigh, taking another sip of the water. You’re suddenly extremely thirsty. 

Peña waits for you to say more, but shakes his head when you begin tapping your fingers against the counter. “I’m trying to apologize.” He huffs out, resting his head on one hand, propped against the bar. 

“You are?” You laugh, pushing the glass of water away. “I didn’t hear one.”

“I wasn’t thinking, that day I walked in and asked you to go to Noonan.” He sighs, explaining himself. Still not an apology. “I’ve been under a lot of pressure to get this right this time, and I was told I was having a female agent added to my team that had done great things in Miami but didn’t know anything beyond your name.”

You shrug, sliding off your seat. “Okay, boss. No big deal. It was months ago.” You give in, thinking it’s about time to walk home. 

When you stumble away from Peña, he reaches for your arm to hold you up, hissing out between his teeth. “You need a ride home.”

“No, I’m fine.” His hand is warm at your elbow, seeping through his skin to yours so quickly that you break out in a shiver. You attempt to yank your arm away, but his grip is firm and guiding. 

If he notices you trying to pull away from him or the shiver, he doesn’t say anything. “Wasn’t asking.” 

You think you roll your eyes, but you’re not too sure based on how the room is moving around you. “Haven’t you drunk too?” Your hand twists out to grip his shoulder, too dizzy to be pulling away now. 

“Not as much as you.” He mumbles with a short chuckle, guiding you to the door after slipping the bartender some bills. You aren’t sure how much he’s paid, but you think it’s a lot based on how happy the guy looks. 

The typically humid air is crisp against your skin as you step out, and you can’t help but curl your fingers into the sleeve of his shirt. The noises around you feel muffled, and when you turn to Peña he’s already looking at you expectantly. “What?”

He huffs out his nose, trying to keep his composure. “Where do you live? In the same block as the other agents or somewhere else?”

You shake your head, confused by his question but tell him your address anyways. “I can make it home–”

“No.” He cuts you off, lightly pressing into the small of your back to lead you toward his Jeep. “You’ve had more to drink than others, and I need you to be ready by Monday.”

“Oh, I’m definitely calling in sick Monday.” You hiccup, grabbing onto the handle of his car as you hop into the passenger seat.

Peña walks around to the driver's side, sliding in and watching you as you buckle in clumsily. “Don’t get sick in my car.”

“No promises.” You mumble, laying your head back against the headrest and shutting your eyes as he pulls away from the curb. The drive feels familiar, turning at the right moments, and the hum of his car seems to have you slipping into sleep. 

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until Peña’s warm hand was on your elbow again, shaking it gently. “Hey, you awake?”

You startle, sitting up straight and looking out the windshield before flashing your eyes over to him, glancing down at his fingers drifting over your elbow in soothing circles. You clear your throat, reaching for his door handle. “Yeah, sorry.”

“S’alright.” He reaches for his own door, gets out, and walks around the front of the car to where you are stumbling toward your door. “Where’s your key?” You mumble incoherently, reaching into your pocket and dangling the key in front of him for a moment before he snatches it out of your hand and into the lock. “Let me make sure you don’t get sick all over yourself.”

“I’m not even that drunk.” You scoff, brushing past him to the bathroom. You are mostly just dizzy, a nasty side effect of tequila that you’ve never been able to curb. “Since you invited yourself in, there’s soda in the fridge.” You clip from your mirror, reaching for a washing rag and turning on the water. 

“What, no beer?” He calls, chuckling quietly before you hear the sound of the fridge opening, his footsteps going quiet when he gets back to your living room and sits on the couch. 

When you’ve finished scrubbing your face, you step back into the living room and see Peña with his soda half tilted up, glancing at you and down to your coffee table where a glass of water is waiting. “Thanks, boss.” You mumble, sitting on the other side of the couch and taking a sip. 

He nods, eyeing you quietly before setting the half-empty bottle in front of him. “Javi is fine.” 

You quirk your eyebrow at him, humming to yourself before taking another sip. “Are we getting personal now?”

Peña squints at you, pursing his lips to hide a smile that seems to be growing on his lips. “Only if you tell me something personal.” 

You scoff, setting down your glass and leaning back. The air conditioner in your apartment is only in the bedroom, leaking out into the rest of the living space slowly and heavily along the ground. Your toes are cold, realizing suddenly that you have taken off your shoes and it seems like Peña did as well, his toes wiggling under his socks. “Something personal? What do you want to know?”

He shrugs. “Anything. I don’t know much about you at all besides that you worked your way up in a field that isn’t kind to women, and moved here from Miami on recommendation from Noonan to help catch the Cali cartel.” 

You tilt your head over to him to watch him, his arm flexing as he reaches for his soda again. You feel this sudden urge to lean forward and touch his arm– “I hate the heat.” You blurt, stopping yourself from reaching for him as he looks at you inquisitively. “I-I grew up in Utica, New York. Love the snow.”

He smiles, nodding his head. “Why did you go to Miami, if you hate the heat?”

You shrug. “Wanted to be different.” You laugh to yourself, leaning forward again for your glass. “Couldn’t stand staying in the same town, or just moving to the next city over like all my friends did.”

As you’re talking your hand knocks the glass off the coffee table, water spilling over your feet and onto the carpet. You jump, leaning toward Peña to lift your feet off the floor before they get wet, but you aren’t quick enough. “S’alright. Let me get a towel.” He says quietly, grabbing the glass from the floor and his soda before heading to the kitchen. 

When he returns with a kitchen towel that you think was hanging on the oven’s handle, you don’t expect him to sit so close and wrap his hand around your calf and lift it onto his lap. He wipes at your feet gently, hand still holding you steady as he glances up at you. “Texas.” He clears his throat, looking unsure before he continues. “I grew up in Texas. The heat was different than here, but…I’ve never seen snow.”

You smirk, watching as he slows his movements and rubs his thumb along your calf. “You’d probably hate it like everyone does.”

You both stare at each other, not sure if you should pull your leg away, ask him to leave and thank him for the ride, or see where this goes. 

You start to pull away, realizing that this is your boss for fucks sake when he tightens his grip. “I’ve always wanted to see snow on Christmas. With the lights and real snowmen…” He pauses, leaning forward and flicking his gaze to your mouth. “I don’t think I would hate it.”

You gasp when his hand slides up your leg to behind your knee, pulling you closer and over his lap more. “Peña–”

“Javi.” He breathes, taking a deep breath that expands his chest and has the buttons straining under the pressure. “I-it’s Javi.”

Your head is swimming with the feeling of his hand on you, over and over, looking from his parted mouth to his eyes. His pupils dilate, his hand tightening around you in anticipation as you start to lean forward. 

Your eyelashes flutter, closing for a moment before opening them again and finding your nose brushing against his, his eyes cast down to watch you ponder the next best move. “Javi,” You whisper hoarsely, swearing you can taste the mix of whiskey and soda in his mouth from how he lets his bottom lip run against yours. “You’re my boss.”

He nods quickly, the bridge of his nose running against yours as he takes a deep breath. “I know.”

It’s only another split second before you make the decision, tilting your chin towards him and sealing your mouth to his. 

He groans, wrapping his hand around the back of your head and into your hair to hold you to him. He swirls his tongue with yours, eager and ready to have you against him and not moving away to take a breath. 

He pulls you closer, bracketing his own hips with your thighs, digging his fingers into your hips to hold you against him. When you begin rolling your center against his, your jeans in the way of each other, he holds you firm. “Don’t do that.” He swallows, shaking his head and looking up at you. “Unless you want me to fuck you right now.”

On wobbly legs you stand, pushing away from him enough that you can reach for the button of your pants, sliding the material down your thighs. You break out in a shiver, forgetting how heavy the air feels right now. 

Javi reaches out with one hand, running his fingers down the side of your thigh before leaning forward to wrap his hand fully around you. His other hand is expertly undoing his own jeans, eyes on you, and a smirk rising on his face. “Needy, aren’t you?”

Biting your lip has little effect on your ability to keep your noises at bay, a groan coming out of your mouth as his fingers grip into the plush skin on your ass. “You’re just as bad.”

“Oh really?” He laughs, pulling you to your previous position hovering over him. “Work for it then.” 

Your thoughts stutter, furrowing your brow as you shakily bring a hand down to the opening of his pants. Gently wrapping your fingers around him, jeans halfway down his thighs already and not a pair of boxers in sight, you swear your mouth begins to water. You glance back up to his face, his knowing wink giving you pause. “What do you want me to do?”

He tilts his head, a small smile rising before he licks his lower lip. “Don’t just stare at it, ride it.”

You gasp at how quickly he reaches forward and slides your panties to the side. His finger glides at your center, opening you up to feel how slick you’ve gotten for him. He groans, satisfied with what he finds as he holds the fabric with his thumb, his other hand roughly guiding you by the hip to sit lower. 

The head of his cock presses into you in one instant, and in the next, you’re fully seated on top of him. Thighs tight, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead, you whine at the feeling of him inside you. He shushes you, bringing one bruising hand up from your hip to your face, moving your hair out of your eyes. “I know, Hermosa. Too big for you, huh?” You nod, feeling faint as you shut your eyes for a moment. He taps roughly with two fingers on your cheek.  “Easy now, don’t lose focus.”

Your eyes snap open as he shifts his hips up, his hair at the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit. He begins thrusting, holding you steady by where his hand is placed on your cheek, digging into the hair at the nape of your neck. Your mouth opens, slack-jawed at the feeling of him thrusting up into you. 

“That’s it.” He growls, pulling your head back tighter. “Just like that.” He pistons up, leaning further back on your couch and pulling you away from him so he can better get a view of you. You’re taking it, turned on, and pretty sure you’re ruining his jeans in the process. 

He doesn’t last long, and neither do you. His words, forced through his teeth and puffing breaths spur you on to the finish line, his own orgasm leaving a mess on your underwear and stomach. He pulls out quickly, hurriedly rubbing at himself with your slick covering him before closing his eyes and moaning as ropes of his spend stick to you. 

Standing on shaking legs, you walk toward your bathroom, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off before looking in the mirror briefly. You look like you’ve been fucked-hair a nest on your head, your underwear wet. When you step back out toward the living room, ready to offer him a towel or the shower, you stop dead in your tracks when you don’t see him immediately. 

Confused, you step into the kitchen, looking around briefly before stepping back into your living room. The soda is half gone on your coffee table, and the kitchen towel that he brought is tossed haphazardly on the couch. You look toward your front door and notice his boots are gone just as the lights from a car shine through your window. Peña had just fucked you and ditched. 

It hadn’t really been a surprise to you that Peña wanted to pretend like nothing had happened. Just a quick fuck, and nothing serious-you could handle that. Peña must have thought you would be beating down his door because he avoided you for two full weeks before reappearing in the office at the same time you were there. 

You had continued on; business as usual. 

It surprised Peña so much that when you had gone into his office to give him reports to review and then left soon after, he was at your apartment that night asking what your issue was. 

“It was a one-time thing.” Peña was circling your island, rubbing at his jaw and eyeing you every once in a while. 

“I figured.” You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorway. “Do you have something you need me to do, related to our job? Because if not, can you just leave?”

“Was I more hammered than I thought?” He questioned, looking at you incredulously. “I swear you came.”

“I did.” You confirm. 

“Then, how are you…are you not? I don’t-” he growled frustrated, running his hands through his hair. 

“I’m not obsessed with you. Is that what you’re asking?” You laugh, shaking your head. “We were drunk, we fucked. You’re my boss, I’m your employee. Let’s just move on. Now will you leave?” 

“I don’t want you to be obsessed with me.” He says quietly, face going red with embarrassment. 

“Great, I’m not.” You shrug, tapping your fingers against your pant leg. 

He stares at you, grinding his teeth before he steps toward where you appear relaxed. He’s silent as he reaches out, running the back of his finger against your exposed arm. You shiver, rolling your eyes at how he smiles. 

You tilt your head at him, asking with your eyes what are you doing? As he shrugs, he kneels in front of you, hands coming up to hover over your pants. “Let me feel you, hermosa.”

You and Peña continued like this, back and forth for weeks. He would eye you a certain way after berating you in his office as code to meet in the archives. 

You would say something snarky with Jason and David looking on, and he would show up at your apartment later that night. 

Or sometimes, you both would stay late, working until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore to then look up and see Peña still sitting at his desk in a similar state as you were. He would sigh heavily, call you into his office, and tell you to go home like everyone else had. 

You never did. 

This seemed to be the most stable thing in your life, even though you and Peña were not an item, and adamantly told each other so when he was deep inside you or when your throat was constricting around him. 

You thought everything was routine at this point-yeah, you fucked your boss, and you still argued with him, but the job wasn’t bad. You were making headway into things that Peña and your team worked on extensively to get to the bottom of the cartel. And when you were having another meeting with Peña, Jason, and David, you were shocked to find out that Peña had a new job for you. 

“I need you to go into the jungle.” He said, looking directly at you with a pinched mouth. 

You stared at him, trying to assess what that exactly meant as Jason and David stared between the two of you. “And do what, exactly?” You question, flicking your eyes over him. 

“I need intel on Gabriel Loreas. He is an upcoming drug dealer that is supposed to be the local cops' responsibility.” He says quickly, flipping through the file on his desk before leaning back and crossing his feet. 

“So why have her go out there?” Jason questions quietly, concern covering his face. 

Peña’s eyes flash in anger, raking over Jason. “Because I don’t trust the locals to not screw me over in the end. And…we have a mole.” David and Jason begin bickering, Peña cutting them off. “I need someone that can infiltrate his home without causing suspicion.”

“And why can’t that be one of us? No offense,” David turns apologetically to you. “But it’s extremely dangerous to be doing that alone.”

Peña rolls his neck, trying to hold his temper. “His security guards are looking for…working girls.”

It’s silent in the office as Jason and David look toward you, bug-eyed and scared. You take a deep breath, chuckling quietly. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Peña freezes, eyes widening briefly before leaning forward. “Now, listen–”

“You want me to whore myself out? For your little side mission? Like I’m some piece of meat?” Your voice is increasing in volume, Jason wincing at the sound of you wobbling through the last few words. He knew how you felt being used as bait while in Miami, and now it seemed to be happening all over again. 

“Everyone out.” Peña glared at Jason and David, waiting for them to file out of his office, and shut the door tightly behind them. 

When his eyes find you, he stays frozen while you remain stoic. He takes a deep breath, cursing under his breath briefly. “I need you to help me out, here.”

You attempt to not scoff. “Why the fuck should I be doing anything you say?”

“You don’t have to actually do anything.” He’s earnest, stepping closer to you while one hand rests on his hip. 

You can’t help the emotion lacing your voice. “You’re kidding.” Shaking your head, you open your arms wide. “How do you expect me to get anywhere without actually offering up anything?”

He growls in irritation, taking another step toward you. “I just need you to stakeout-talk to the men that come back into town, and get a feel for it. When things get heavier we will send Jason and David out.”

You stare at Peña for another minute, waiting to see if he flinches. If you can see the shift, the change of mind. When you don’t, you sigh. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

It’s like a blow to the chest as he steps back. “What?”

“You heard me.” You snarl, opening the door so Jason and David can hear your announcement as well. 

As you step out, not waiting to see if Peña has anything else to say, Jason follows you to the elevator. “I’ll talk to him, don’t–”

“It’s fine, Jason.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just need to get in the right mindset. Don’t worry about it; I don’t want you telling Peña anything.”

He shuffles, holding the elevator open. “Are you sure? He’s such a hard ass to you, maybe if I tell him what you told me he would change up his plans…”

You give him a forced smile, grabbing his wrist and pulling it out of the way. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As the elevator door slides closed with a small wave from Jason, you see Peña’s eyes watching, assessing the interaction. As the door shuts, you take a deep breath and exhale, trying to recenter yourself before stepping into the parking garage. 

You had an inkling of who it would be when you heard a knock on your door a few hours later. You sit on your couch, silent as you wait, and hope that Peña will just walk away. He will understand that you need space. 

You had already cried the minute you stepped over the threshold, feeling that pit in your stomach that you always got when you stepped out onto the docks in Miami. How hands and lips felt against your heated skin where you didn’t want them–

“Hermosa,” Peña calls through your door, jiggling the handle to test if it is locked. “I know you’re there. Let me in.”

You sigh again, waiting for another knock before slinking over to the door and quietly unlocking the deadbolt. He hears it, pushing open the door quickly after and coming face to face with you. 

He huffs, kicking the door shut and shrugging out of his suit jacket. “Were you not going to let me in?”

“No.” You say quietly, sitting on your couch and back down to the book you have bookmarked with a receipt from the corner store. 

He’s silent, standing above you while you refuse to make eye contact. He’s waiting for you to break, but you’re too tired to. When he finally caves, you try to control your lips from ticking up in the corners. “I really need this, hermosa.”

You pick at your fingernails, patiently waiting. 

He sighs again. “There’s a lot of money on the line. Like, millions, if what I’ve been told is correct. The local guys, they’re getting paid on the side by this guy and I need someone in there.”

He’s pacing now, back and forth in front of your coffee table. 

You break your silence, leaning back and crossing your arms. “What’s in it for me?”

Peña pauses, turning to you. He looks flustered, hands having run through his hair by how it sticks out away from the side of his head. “Cash. Cold, hard cash.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “So, I will really be a whore then, won’t I?”

He frowns, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want you doing that.” He stretches his neck, clicking his tongue in disgust. “You just, pretend. Don’t do anything crazy–”

You feel anger bubble up inside, over your tongue, and spitting out at him. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?” 

He freezes, shocked in front of you. 

“I don’t get to just say no. I have to be stronger to say no. I have to be strapped to say no. I have to be cute enough to say no. I can’t just not do something once I’ve pretended to offer those things, Javi. These aren’t college boys trying to not catch a rape charge.”

He waits, biting the inside of his mouth as he grows more frustrated. He must know you’re right, must understand what he’s asking you to do. “I won’t let them.” He says quietly, flicking his gaze up to yours. “You have my word, hermosa.”

“I can’t trust that.” You feel worn and tired of the argument. You’ve resigned to the fact that you will have to do this if you plan on keeping your job, and you do plan on it. “I’ll do what you ask of me. It’s my job.”

“I won’t let them touch you.” He growls, reaching forward and squeezing your arms so tightly you squeak. “You’re not going to get hurt in this. I won’t allow it.”

It’s pitiful, really, how you want to laugh in his face. He doesn’t understand, because he’s a man. No matter his reputation with working girls, he doesn’t know. You attempt to pull away from him, but his fingers dig harder into your skin. “Go home, Peña.”

He clicks his tongue at you, tilting his head as if to threaten you. “What happened to Javi, bonita?”

You go to protest, trying and failing again to pull away as he pushes you toward your couch. You clumsily sit back, frowning at him. “I’ll do the job. It’s fine–”

“Lay back.” He barks, kneeling in front of you, his fingers working quickly at the button of your pants. 

You shake your head, resting your hand over his in a silent question. 

He ignores you, pulling the waistline over your hips and down your thighs, underwear soon following as cool air wicks over your skin. You shiver, the contact of his warm fingers, calloused over and rough, over your skin has your legs relaxing wide. 

He lifts one leg easily over his shoulder, smirking when his eyes land on your center. Without further warning, his tongue swipes up your folds, spreading you wide with a groan. “I can’t stop wanting this.”

You throw your head back, unsure if what he said was meant for himself or for you. Words are stuck in your throat, fingers wrapped tightly in his hair, and pulling as his tongue swirls over your clit and down to your center. You want to tell him to keep going, to make you come, but you’re afraid that if you voice your want he will retreat from you. 

One hand squeezes into the skin of your thigh resting on his shoulder, his other working the buttons of his shirt open before coming to your entrance with a sigh. He lets his tongue rest there for a moment, pressing in with the tip and letting you contract around him.  

Javi pulls away, muttering under his breath as he slides one finger into you, a quick “Fuck, so wet for me.” before wrapping his lips around your clit again. 

You swear he would be laughing at you for how quickly you crumbled to his touch if he wasn’t busy with his mouth around you. “Please, I–”

Another smirk appears as he pulls away, curling his fingers inside you to search for that spot he has found again and again. “I won’t let you come,” He breathes, pressing a kiss to your shaking thigh. “Unless you agree to the job.”

You huff, breaths labored and your stomach tightens. “I already agreed.”

“Nuh-uh, mean it hermosa.” He nips your skin, chuckling as your hips jump in an attempt to get away, only pressing his fingers deeper. “Be my little slut, and I’ll share the cash with you.”

You close your eyes to try to focus, his fingers pressing, pressing, pressing against that spot inside of you that he has an obsession with, holding your breath. It’s overwhelming, the pressure in your core building and overheating. 

Sweat pools in the dip of your collarbone, the shirt you still have on soaking it up as you pull on his hair again. “Yes, yes–fuck. I’ll do it.” 

Javi hums, leaning forward again to press his lips to your center, his tongue and fingers working in tandem as a wave of ecstasy crashes over your skin. 

You’re floating, feeling him slow between your legs and breathe against your skin. He says something you can’t really hear, gently setting your leg down on the floor before adjusting himself. A pointed look is thrown your way, your furrowed brow indicating that you didn’t hear him. 

He shakes his head, wiping at his mustache for a moment. “Stakeout starts next week.”

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Wake Up Adam!

@fanofstuff02 About that ask from earlier.

Adam was exhausted, he hadn't slept for nearly four days. It didn't matter what he did, he tried tea, the tried different sleeping positions, he tried weird hacks from the internet.

Nothing worked.

He had his head resting on his hand at the breakfast table, eyes heavy but not enough to whisk him away to dreamland. Adam groaned as a headache started to set in. He closed his eyes and they throbbed with the need for sleep.

"Are you okay, Adam? You haven't touched your pancakes." Charlie asked from the other side of the table as she ate her own.

Adam opened his eyes to glare at her. "I'm fucking exhausted, I haven't slept in fuck knows how long. I think I'm starting to see shit."

"Have tried anything to get to sleep?" Lucifer asked as he sat down beside Adam. Adam looked awful, he had deep dark bags under his eyes, he looked slightly pale, and it looked as if he was going to face plant into his food.

Adam scowled at the King. "Gee, why didn't I fucking think of that! Oh that's right, I did!" Lack of sleep was making Adam rather snippy.

Well, snippyer than normal.

"Why didn't you just say something? I could have helped you get to sleep." Lucifer wiggled his fingers with a half smile. "You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks asshole." Adam put his face in his hands. "How would you do it?" He was far too tired to give a shit if Lucifer even tranquilized his ass.

Lucifer got up and motioned for Adam to follow him. They went into the lobby and he sat Adam down on the couch. It's almost like that one time back in Eden when Adam couldn't sleep and Lucifer sang him to sleep.

Only this time he wouldn't be singing.

"Okay, relax. This won't hurt a bit." Before Adam could question what he meant by that, Lucifer pressed his index finger to the middle of Adam's forehead. He watched as Adam's eyes rolled in the back of his head only showing the whites. Adam slumped back, eyes closed and breathing even. "Sweet dreams princess."

"How long will he be asleep?" Charlie asked as she entered the room.

"As long as he needs. Likely hours. But that's fine, it's not like there's anything important he needs to do." Lucifer sat down beside Adam's sleeping form, he looked so peaceful like this. He even started to snore a little bit and it wasn't even a loud obnoxious one. It was soft and quiet, you'd hardly know he was doing it.

It was at this moment that Angel walked in with an arm full of mail. "This came for you, Lucifer." He handed the envelope to the King and went in his way to go through the mail.

"Thank you, Angel." Lucifer knew just by looking at it that it was a letter from heaven. More specifically Sera herself.

Dear King Lucifer Morningstar,

I am writing to seek an audience with you and Adam. Since he has been in Hell with you for sometime now, I would like to see him in person to make sure that no one, including yourself is bringing harm to him.

Two o'clock at the heaven embassy tomorrow.

Be there with Adam unharmed.

Yours faithfully,

Sera

Lucifer looked over at the passed out sinner beside him. This was fine, they had plenty of time before tomorrow. Adam would have his good nights rest, tell Sera he's okay, and everything would be alright in the world.

Only by noon the next day Adam was still asleep and no one could wake him up.

"Wake up, Adam! We have to go see Sera!" Lucifer shook him but that did nothing. Strangely, not even his magic could wake him.

"Did you kill him?" Angel asked poking Adam's cheek.

"No! He's just sleeping." Lucifer needed to wake him up and fast. "If you don't wake up, I'll smash your guitar and set it on fire."

Nothing. Not even the slightest movement of an eyelash.

"He'll cut your nuts off big guy!" Angel tried and again, nothing.

"They're replacing rock music with jazz!"

"They're discontinuing reality tv!"

"There are no more ribs in all of Hell!"

"Lucifer wants to marry you!"

Lucifer looked at Angel with an unreadable expression. "Dude, seriously?" Sure, him and Adam were dating but it was way too soon for that.

Even if Lucifer has thought about how good the name 'Adam Morningstar' sounds.

Angel shrugged. "I thought that would wake him up, being with his true love forever." He placed the back of his hand on his forehead in dramatic fashion.

"If he were awake he'd smack you."

"That's how I know this is a super deep sleep!"

Lucifer crossed his arms, they needed to wake him before he went to see Sera. "Get me his guitar and amp." Angel did as he was told and Lucifer hooked it up and turned it up as loudly as he could.

This had to work.

Lucifer ripped a cord so loud it shattered every window in the hotel. Adam didn't even flinche. "Oh come on!"

"What!?" Angel yelled, his ears were ringing.

"Dad! What is going on in here?" Charlie walked in gesturing all around to the broken windows and glass. "Is Adam still sleeping?"

"We can't wake him." Lucifer put the guitar dowm. "Sera wants to see him in one hour and we can't fucking wake him!" Adam snored from his spot on the couch. "Wake up!"

"Oh, what if we did this?" Angel pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his chest fluff and places them on Adam's face. "You mimic his voice and Sera won't know!"

"That's crazy enough to work." Lucifer got in behind Adam and seized his hands, moving them around how Adam would. He cleared his throat and did what he thought was a good Adam impression. "Hey Sera it's me Adam! I fucking rock and am the best merely for existing!"

"Dad she's gonna know."

"Dad? Who's dad, I'm Adam!"

"Dad please stop."

Lucifer sighed and places Adam back where he was and moved away. "Well I don't know what to do! She's gonna think I killed him or some shit." He ran a hand through his hair. Of all the times for this to happen it had to be when Sera wanted to see him.

She never was good with timing.

"I'll have to take him as is and explain the situation." Lucifer scooped Adam up into his arms and opened a portal to the heaven embassy. He walked over to the desk and signed in. "Come on bud, wake up before Sera gets here and bitches me out."

Lucifer entered the meeting room and set Adam down in a chair, he slumped forward onto the table drooling slightly.

The lights turned on and Sera was ay the other end of the table with a neutral expression gracing her face. "Lucifer, why is Adam unconscious?"

"He's just sleeping, relax." Lucifer tried to sound nonchalant but he was freaking out inside.

"So wake him."

"I can't."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Can't or won't?"

This bitch. "Can't. He's a very deep sleeper apparently."

"Does this have anything to do with your devil magic?" Sera crossed her arms and glares firmly. "Lucifer, you wake him up or there is going to be trouble."

"That a threat?"

"More like a promise." He knew that Sera cared for Adam like a mother, but would she really rage war against Hell because Adam took an overdue nap? The hateful look in her eyes told him yes, yes she would.

"Give me a minute." Lucifer wheeled Adams chair into the hallway.

"Lucifer!"

He ignored her in favor of proping Adam up. "Come on princess, you've had enough beauty sleep time to wake up." He didn't know what to do and he was out of time. "Adam, come on sleeping beauty."

Wait.

Sleeping beauty.....

"If this works I'm gonna scream." Lucifer cupped Adams face and firmly kissed his lips for a few seconds. He pulled away and waited.

Adam inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, he stretched in the chair and yawned. "Luci, what are we-, when did we get to the embassy?"

"Well good morning sleeping beauty. I'll explain later. You get in there and talk to Sera."

Adam blinked, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Sera? The fuck does she want?" He got up and slowly made his way into the room. "Well if it isn't her all mighty majesity. What can I can do for ya?"

Sera relaxed and came over to Adam and fussed over him like he was a toddler. She kept asking if he was okay, if he was being tortured or abused, just a million questions being thrown at Adam.

"Chillax I'm fine Sera."

"Are you sure?"

"Scouts honor." He held up his hand in a mock salute. "Is this all you wanted? You could have just fucking face timed me."

"I just needed to see you in person." Sera smoothed out his hair. "Well alright, everything seems to be in order. I'll be scheduling another meeting soon, unrelated to this." They said their good byes and she was gone.

Adam turned to look at Lucifer. "What the fuck did I miss?"

"I'll fill you in on the way home." They walked hand in hand back to the hotel.

Adam removed the sunglasses from his face and gave the devil a questioning look. "What's with the sunglasses?"

"I'll get to that in the explanation."

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part thirty-one

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral with a angsty underlining

el's thoughts: i'm back to writing again! hope yall like itttt

masterlist

“Thank the Saints, Djel, and your Aunt Eva,” Jesper said gratefully and slid down the rope, followed by the others.

The roof of the embassy was curved, probably to keep the snow off, but it was a bit like walking on the humped back of an enormous whale. It was also decidedly more… porous than the prison roof. It was pocked with multiple points of entry—vents, chimneys, and small glass domes designed to let light in. Nina and Inej were tucked up against the base of the biggest dome, a filigree skylight from the dwindling rain, but should any of the guards on the ring wall turn their attention away from the approach road and onto the rooftops of the Court, the crew would be hidden from view.

Nina had Inej’s feet in her lap.

“I can’t get all the rubber off her heels,” she said, as she saw them approaching.

“Help her,” said Kaz.

“Right,” Jesper said as he crawled over to get a better look at Inej’s blistered feet. “Saints,” he muttered.

Inej grimaced. “That bad?”

“No, you just have really ugly feet.”

“Ugly feet that got you on this roof.”

“But are we stuck?” Y/N asked. The Elderclock ceased its ringing, and in the silence that followed, she shut her eyes in relief. “Finally.”

“What happened at the prison?” Wylan said, that panicked crackle back in his voice. Jesper gave him a quick reassuring glance. “What triggered the alarm?”

“I ran into two guards,” said Nina.

Jesper looked up from his work again. “You didn’t put them down?”

“I did. But one of them got off a few shots. Another guard came running. That was when the bells started.”

“Damn. So that’s what set off the alarm?”

“Maybe,” said Nina. “Where were you, Kaz? I wouldn’t have been in the stairwell if I hadn’t wasted time looking for you. Why didn’t you meet me on the landing?”

Kaz was peering down through the glass of the dome. “I decided to search the cells on the fifth floor, too.”

They all stared at him. Y/N felt frustration bubbling up in her chest.

“What the hell is this?” Jesper said. “You take off before Matthias and I got back, then decide to expand your search and leave Nina thinking you’re in trouble?”

“There was something I needed to take care of.”

“Not good enough.”

“I had a hunch,” Kaz said. “I followed it.”

Y/N’s expression was pure disbelief. “A hunch?”

“I made a mistake,” growled Kaz. “All right?”

“No,” she fired back. “You owe us an explanation.”

After a moment, Kaz said, “I went looking for Pekka Rollins.” A look passed between Kaz and Y/N. Everyone else shared a look as Kaz cleared his throat. “I screwed up. I made a bad call, and I deserve the blame for it. But that doesn’t change our situation.”

“What is our situation?” Nina asked Matthias. “What will they do now?”

“The alarm was Yellow Protocol, a sector disturbance.”

Jesper pushed at his temples. “I don’t even remember what that means.”

“My guess is that they think someone’s attempting a prison break. That sector is already sealed off from the rest of the Ice Court, so they’ll authorize a search, probably try to figure out who’s mission from the cells.”

“They’ll find the people we knocked out in the women’s and men’s holding areas,” said Wylan. “we need to get out of here. Forget Bo Yul-Batur.”

Y/N waved a dismissive hand through the air. “It’s too late. If the guards think there is a prison break in progress, the checkpoints will be on high alert. Right?” she looked to Matthias in a quick question. “They’re not going to let anyone just walk through.”

“We could still try,” said Jesper. “We get Inej’s feet patched up-”

She flexed them, then stood, testing her bare soles on the gravel. “They feel all right. My calluses are gone, though.”

“I’ll give you an address where you can mail your complaints,” Nina said with a wink.

“Okay, the Wraith is ambulatory,” Jesper said, rubbing a sleeve over his damp face. The rain had faded away to a light mist. “We find a cozy room to bash some partygoers on the head and waltz out of this place decked in their finest.”

“Past the embassy gate and two checkpoints?” Matthias said skeptically.

“They don’t know anyone escaped the prison sector. They saw Nina and Kaz so they know people are out of their cells, but the guards at the checkpoints are going to be looking for hoodlums in prison clothes…” Jesper’s voice faded to a buzz in Y/N’s ears.

She came on an assignment. A world-changing substance was out here somewhere and if it were to get into the wrong hands, it could reach and poison all Grisha. She had a duty to her people and fellow brothers and sisters. If she were to get caught then she would be caught trying to finish the mission. If she were to die then she would die on her feet as a Ravkan soldier.

“Forget it,” she said. “I came here to find Bo Yul-Bayur, and I’m not leaving without him.”“What’s the point?” said Wylan as he watched the Inferni with concern. “Even if you manage to get to the White Island and find Yul-Bayur, we’ll have no way out. Jesper’s right: We should go now while we still have a chance.”

“You are more than welcome to leave if you see it best. I came here with an assignment and I intend to see it through, even if it means I have to cross to the White Island alone. I will.”

“That may not be an option,” said Matthias causing her to turn her sharp gaze in his direction. “Look.”

They gathered around the base of the glass dome. The rotunda below was a mass of people, drinking, laughing, greeting each other, a kind of raucous party before the celebrations on the White Island.

As they watched, a group of new guards pushed into the room, trying to form the crowd into lines.

“They’re adding another checkpoint,” Matthias said. “They’re going to review everyone’s identification again before they allow people access to the glass bridge.”

“Because of Yellow Protocol?” asked Jesper.

“Probably. A precaution.”

It was like seeing the last bit of their luck drain from a glass.

“Then that decides it,” said Jesper. “We cut our losses and try to get out now.”

“I know a way,” Inej said quietly. They all turned to look at her. The yellow light from the dome pooled in her dark eyes. “We can get through that checkpoint and onto the White Island.” She pointed below to where two groups of people had entered the rotunda from the gatehouse courtyard and were shaking the mist from their clothes. The girls from the House of the Blue Iris were easily identified by the color of their gowns and the flowers displayed in their hair and at their necklines. There was another pleasure house that took Y/N a moment to recognize. It was a house located in Shu Han that Y/N had business with years back.

“I have a friend whom I met briefly while traveling with Sturmhond. She could help us get inside.”

“Inej-” Kaz started.

The Suli quickly interrupted him. “I can get two of us in for sure.”

The guys shared a silent look of hesitation while the girls wordlessly discussed who would go.

Nina spoke up, “I’ll go with Inej.”

Matthias had opened his mouth to argue but Y/N cut him off. “That’d be the smartest choice, a Heartrender would be a better fit than an Inferni. It’s likely you both would need a bit of tailoring as well…” She trailed off as she continued to observe the swarm of people below.

Inej nodded, “Then it’s settled. We go in with the pleasure houses.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy @skittleabyss @crispy-croke @cometsghost @auttumnsayshi

[stephensmithuk]

His Last Bow

Originally titled in full "His Last Bow. The War Service of Sherlock Holmes" and later "His Last Bow: An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes", this was originally published in 1917.

It is the final story in His Last Bow, the final short story in the canon covered by Letters from Watson and agreed by all the key chronologists to be the final canon appearance of Holmes and Watson.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had openly supported British entry into the First World War in 1914.

The story came about after a visit to the Western Front in 1916; asked by a French general what Holmes was doing, Doyle had responded that he was too old to serve. He then decided to write this story as a means of boosting morale.

To put it mildly, the British public had gone a bit spy-crazy in the lead up to the war; fearing "Teutons serving them croutons" i.e. Germans living in the UK acting as intelligence agents for the Kaiser.

The Riddle of the Sands is one such work of popular literature on this theme, which is the subject of Letters from Carruthers coming in September.

There was also the fantastical works of William Le Queux, who started off with the French and Russians as his enemies before switching to the Germans; he also had his works serialised in the Daily Mail, a British middle-market tabloid that was founded in 1896 and has been happily engaging in right-wing sensationalism since to the point Wikipedia has banned them as a source. Le Queux for his part believed the Germans were out to get him for exposing their spy networks - he hadn't, they weren't and the Metropolitan Police refused him protection.

The Benz company had produced the first practical motor car in 1885; they of course later merged with Daimler to become Mercedez-Benz. I cannot find a 100hp example of their vehicles.

The German Chancellor in 1914, Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg, was a moderate, who reluctantly went along with many German policies like unrestricted submarine warfare and tried to initiate peace proposals on a number of occasions in the war before being ousted in 1917.

Flushing is the historical English name for the Dutch port of Vlissingen; it had a ferry connection to Sheerness until 1994.

At the outbreak of war, diplomats on both sides were allowed to return home unmolested, after locking down their embassies and burning anything sensitive they could not take with them.

Britain, France and Prussia had signed a treaty in 1839 guaranteeing the neutrality and independence of Belgium. The German invasion of the country on 3 August gave the UK justification for war and moved a Cabinet divided over the matter to firm unity.

There was a fear of Irish civil war at this point; the Liberal government, reliant on Irish and Labour support for a Commons majority after the two elections of 1910, had passed legislation creating a devolved government for the island, called Home Rule. This was vehemently opposed by Ulster Protestants and both sides were receiving weapons - from Germany in fact - in preparation for a fight as Whitehall tried to arrange a compromise. The Germans in fact believed the British would be distracted by a civil war, but in fact the Home Rule legislation was suspended for the duration and both militias decided to support the war effort. That stopped things... until the more radicial Irish Republic Brotherhood launched the Easter Rising of 1916.

"Window-breaking Furies" refers to the suffragette movement that sort votes for women, some of who engaged in direct action like breaking windows and also planting bombs or arson, although they made sure the latter was done when the buildings were empty to avoid killing anyone. These tactics were as controversial at the time as the tactics of modern-day groups like Just Stop Oil. When the war broke out, the suffragettes stopped their militant actions and supported the war effort; their imprisoned members being released as part of an amnesty.

John Bull is a national personification of the UK, typically a stout middle-aged man in a Union Jack waistcoast, frequently seen in cartoons at this time. He rather fell out of popular use post-war and is rarely seen today, unlike Britannia, who remains a widely used figure.

The Rosyth Dockyard was built from 1909 for refitting Royal Navy ships and submarines; although now privatised, it retains that role and is currently building the five Type 31 frigates.

Carlton Terrace was the home of the German Embassy until 1945; after the war, the property and its contents were sold off at auction. The Federal Republic of Germany set up at Belgrave Square in 1951 and remains there to this day.

Junkers were the land-owning aristocracy of Prussia, who exercised considerable political power up until 1945, at which point most of their holdings ended up in the USSR, Poland or what became East Germany. The land was broken up, usually ending up in collective farms; accused of war crimes, those Junkers who ended up in Soviet hands frequently ended up in NKVD camps or even executed. Their descendants did not get them back after reunification.

The King's English is another name for Received Pronunciation, the "standard" dialect and accent of British English.

Tokay or Tokaji is a sweet wine from the Tokaj regions of Hungary and Slovakia, the designation being protected under EU law in a similar way to Champagne. Imperial Tokay, which was the highest quality Tokaji Essencia, was reserved for the Austrian imperial cellars, often being passed to other European monarchs as gifts. This stuff is still drinkable after over 200 years and even the relatively new stuff isn't cheap.

A naval flotilla would be based at Harwich in both World Wars.

The reference to Holmes being sixty here is where the common estimate of 1854 being his birth year comes from.

Portland is a prison and young offenders' institution in Dorset. Notable past inmates include George Edalji (whose miscarriage of justice was exposed by Doyle), John Babbacombe Lee ("The Man They Couldn't Hang") and the controversial comedian Roy "Chubby" Brown.

Fratton is an area of Portsmouth.

In reality, the Home Section of the Secret Service Bureau, later MI5, had managed to identify the key German agents by monitoring their postal correspondence. The police then rounded them up in August 1914 and once the cross-sea cables were cut, contact with any agents in the UK became close to impossible. Little intelligence of any use came from them in any event; the Germans seem to have not even been aware of the British Expeditionary Force being sent to France, which was hardly a small event. Gustav Steinhauer, head of German naval intelligence's British section, got subjected to a rant about his agency's incompetence from the Kaiser that lasted the better part of two hours.

Twelve German spies would be executed during the war, eleven by firing squad at the Tower of London, which hosted its final execution (also of a spy) in 1941.

Skibbareen is a town in County Cork, now in Ireland.

The final speech by Holmes at the end also featured in the 1942 Basil Rathbone film Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror, based on this story.

So Holmes and Watson drive off into the sunset. What happened to them after that? All we know is that both survived the war and at some point Dr Watson stopped writing about his dear friend. They deserve to have had a long retirement.

I will be doing these for the individual chapters of the novels next year; I have already done ones for the first two chapters of A Study in Scarlet that I will repost.

[rise-my-angel]

Waging Double Edged War

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Length: 6.6k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, fluff, mild blood and mentions of violence, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v

Notes: Takes place mid season 3, follow up to A Future of Unknown Dangers and The Complexities Of Defeat but can be read as a standalone

You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him as stressed out as he is now. A constant feeling that he’s at the edge of a cliff, and any gust of wind will push him off of it. He tried to play it off to you as if it wasn’t a big deal, but it was clear to just about anyone around him that his superiors wanted him to play their game no questions asked. As soon as Martinez left, the tide had shifted and the walls were closing in. 

Javier had tried to keep the worse details from you, but the kind of reception you got alone from Javi’s superiors told the story all on it’s own. He had been transparent about your relationship upon coming back, and considering you were a low level civilian who had no involvement in actual cases, they let it slip by. What they didn’t slip by though, is reflecting their opinions of Javier onto you as well. 

Walking into the embassy on your own now felt like a mission all on it’s own to avoid any run in with the ambassador. Asking you questions about settling in here and commenting how surprising it was you even wanted to come back a place you were ‘so eager to get out of’. Asking with a skeptical gaze how you and Javier were doing while implying that the only reason you paired so well together must be you had the same kind of mindset or integrity. It wasn’t lost on you that he certainly didn’t speak to you with a favourable tone, and he wasn’t the only one. 

It was when you were alone gathering new ink for the photocopier that Stechner miraculously found his way into the same supply closet. “Well isn’t it my favourite mail clerk.” 

Your shoulders tensed just a fraction as your jaw clenched, maybe hidden enough someone else couldn’t notice it, but he would. “You and I both know that’s not what I do here.” Just keep opening the box you told yourself, he was always seeking some kind of reaction. 

His frame slid just slightly into your peripheral vision, back against the shelves with his arms crossed, looking up at nothing around the ceiling. “My apologies. Simple mistake to make when that’s all I ever see you do, passing messages back and forth.” 

Your grip on the box tightened and your blood begun to heat up. You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but his voice was so grating on your ears it triggered an instant anger response. “Maybe that’s because you’re too busy shaking hands and kissing babies with politicians to notice anything around you. Not that you were ever good at that.” The last part you muttered under your breathe, but not enough to bother trying to hide it from him.

You were treading on thin ice and you knew it, Javi would have just told you to ignore him or walk away, but he stood between you and the door. Stechner wasn’t dumb enough to do anything, but he was bigger than you and far more dangerous, it intimidated you too much to push past him, all you could do was push back. 

At this point your hands remained at the box openings, your brain already forgetting to reach for the scissors you brought to slice it open. You could feel his head leaning more in as he now looked at you. “Is that anyway to speak to your superior?” 

The roll of your eyes was another thing you didn’t bother to hide, you were so tired of this game he had been playing for years now. “You’re a superior, not mine. I, in no way work for you. The only respect I have to show you is to restrain myself from telling you to piss off.” 

Stechner’s eyebrows raised almost in amusement. “Someone came back with a bite. What, that Texas sun burn that nativity right out of you or is that attitude just what happens when you tussle in the sheets with a certain DEA agent?” 

In frustration you turned abruptly to face him directly, your fingers tripping the box edge’s slicing through the skin, leaving a bright tear that instead left you hissing in pain. Holding your wrist to look at the long gash already starting to bleed more you could only look up at his taller frame slightly as he gave a tsk. 

“Already hurting yourself in here of all places,” leaning in there was a smirk you just knew was meant to agitate you. “How are you going to protect yourself the more your big shot boyfriend puts himself in danger?” 

His features flickered to one side in a dismissive mock before he walked away. Turning to you as he opened the door, “You’re out of first aid supplies by the way.” You winced in pain again as he finally left, your cut clearly hit a bad angle and while it wasn’t a dangerous amount of blood, it was enough to leave you feeling a bit uneasy at the sight of it. 

Letting go of your wrist your free hand pressed against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut as finally letting at least some of the anger simmer out. Turning to grab at least a package of paper only to drop it on the ground. You let out a frustrated groan and left, shutting the door a tad too loudly as you did so, no doubt catching some attention as you walked back to the office hoping there was a first aid kit laying around somewhere. 

Unfortunately for you, you had barley even gotten the only one you could find on the desk stashed in Javi’s office when he unbeknownst to you, walked in. You had hoped to get it wrapped up before he ever even saw it, he had a different level of desperate protectiveness this time around then you ever saw before you two came back. 

His eyes going wide at the blood covering your hand, “Fuck, what happened?” in and instant he was rushed to your side taking your cut hand out of your use and tossing the kit open and grabbing things. Most of the blood was from dripping down when you walked back to the office not really putting any pressure onto it, but you knew all he saw was what it looked like. 

Your free hand gently reached out to his working arm in protest, “Javi, really it’s okay it was nothing.” 

Paying diligent attention to you, he doused a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol. “This amount of blood isn’t nothing.” Before you could say anything he lightly swiped it over the length of the cut, you let out a sharp gasp in the stinging pain. Javi tossed it aside, his hand cupping the side of your head for a brief moment of comfort. “I’m sorry quierda, I know.” 

For such rough hands, they handled you gently as you started to relent. “It was just an accident, honestly.” You let him be concerned. It was the biggest feeling weighing him down seeming at every opportunity. No matter what he did, it seemed like every single choice was looked down on now. 

Part of you wondered if it was intentional. Wearing him down until he complies in defeat. You knew Stechner wasn’t there goading you out of sheer disrespect, no he was trying to get a message through to Javi, and you were a channel to that. Just go along with things and you’ll stop being bothered by people here.

If it was clear why you didn’t have Javi’s job, it was because you hide your emotions as well as you wished. It was written all over your face, a train of thought consuming you as you failed to notice Javi had finished wrapping your hand, and was now watching you. He knew you, and he knew that specific degree of frustrated only one man ever made you. 

“What did he say?” 

You shook your head, looking away from him as you tried to pull your hand back, but his grip was stronger then yours. Muttering your name with sternness, you instinctively obeyed and looked back. Only to see that dark penetrating gaze, doing what he did with those in the interrogation room. Figuring out what you weren’t going to say. “I’ve only ever seen Stechner piss you off like that, what did he say?” 

Closing your eyes for a brief moment only finding the energy to open them again half way through your sentence. “It doesn’t matter. He’s just trying to to get to you by bothering me. It’s hard to tell what he ever really wants I’d rather just ignore him.” 

You could really tell how much more exhausted this case was making him, before he would have pushed until you told him right away, but this time he just softened his face as he looked at you. Instead he saved it until you got home that evening. Quietly prompting you at the end of the day that they had things to do tomorrow and should get an early evening. 

It was only a half lie. Judging by the always anxious look on Stoddard’s face, you assumed he knew something about it as well. Javi wasn’t even the one to tell you about the wire tap, apparently your association to Javi made him just as bad of a liar to you as he was to him. Before walking out of the office, you looked at him and made an exaggerated inhale and exhale motion as watched until he did the same, his shoulders losing just a slight of their tension. 

Once out of earshot of anyone else, you and Javi finally felt far enough to relax more into one another. Javi wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you firmly into his side. You tried to make an attempt to lighten the mood. “I can’t tell if Stoddard is perfect for this job or completely out of his depth working for you.” 

Javi chuckled as he nudged you to the passenger side door. “He’s good at what he does, I just don’t think they thought out putting him with someone like me.” You shared a chuckle, but didn’t say anything more until you both were tucked in the confines of the car. “Honestly most of what I get him to do, I would’ve just given to you if I could get away with it. Considering half the things I convinced you to do for me before.” 

He started the car but didn’t quite make a move to drive. “You didn’t convince me to do anything. I trusted in what you were doing. Bureaucracy wants you to stand back and let it play out by itself, I’d rather help you in actually doing something than keep sitting back and watching you struggle to push through all the red tape.” Javi didn’t look at you, but moved his hand resting on the stick shift to grab at your hand. His thumb rubbing over the skin. “If I can’t help you here Javi,” you leaned over to move your conjoined hands over his heart. “At least I can still help you here.” 

As if there was too much stirring in his head, he shut his eyes and held your hand tight against his chest before finally letting it go, moving back to drive out. “I played ball as much as I could, but they just see numbers and names on a report. They have no clue what it’ really like out there.” 

It’s why he didn’t say much about tomorrow to anyone. It’s why you two never even discussed it until you both were in your shared bedroom going over everything. Javi sat on the edge of the bed, his body slightly twisted to lean over the bedspread to look at the papers in front of him, you sitting near the middle with your legs crossed reciting things out loud to make sure he was going in fully prepared. 

You both knew approaching Christina Juardo wouldn’t be a one way solution. Javi needed to get in the door, put who he is in her head, and let her slowly come to terms with what he wanted, but then the wiretap came though. And suddenly Javi knew exactly where her husband was hiding. 

It was all a mess, but that was the only state of affairs the DEA was allowed to function under anymore. For the first time though, you didn’t quite feel the gut wrenching fear you used too. Curaçao was a far cry from running through the streets of Cali or Medellín. It was one of the only times now where Javi leaving for a field job didn’t leave you sick inside at what could happen. Franklin Juardo was a money man, not a fighter hiding out in a city that posed no threat to Javier's safety. 

Neither were things you could be sure of after he gets back. Eventually he had to relent, everything was ready to go, just none if it made either of you feel any better. The last time you two had been in Colombia, a night before an arrest like this, Javi would have needed to let out that intense fire in his nerves, and your softy pliant body was the perfect place to let that out on. You’d take his cock however many times in whatever ways he needed, but tonight was different. 

The way you fucked now was intense, brought out of a painful helplessness you both experienced day after day. He was tense and so were you, and he never wanted to take that out on you. His anger was different now than it was before, and he was constantly aware of making sure not to let that turn into handling you so roughly.

So that night before his flight, it was just his lips against yours, and quiet whispers between them. It was tender, and it hit you right in the heart at how soft and vulnerable he was allowing himself to be with you. 

You just hoped thing’s in the upcoming weeks wouldn’t take away that deeply rooted feelings between you. That whatever was inevitably going to crash down, didn’t take Javi down with it. 

Waiting around the quiet office all day ruined whatever tenderness last night filled you with. Part of you felt bad, you didn’t know almost any of these people upon your return so they must think you’re just a quiet, tense bitch. Or at least stand offish. They knew you and Javier were together, he had disclosed that upon your own reapplication, but between Cali somehow remaining two steps head and the constant push back from the ambassador, Javi hasn’t come off as less stand offish than you have. 

As the only thing your mind could focus on was the clicking of keys and the ticking clock, you begun to wonder if this was how Connie felt. This feeling of knowing you won’t hear from them until they’re back and you just have to spend your day not knowing anything or if they’ll succeed, and what happens if they didn’t. More than once Stoddard tried to not so subtly bring things up, but you shut it down just as fast. You really didn’t want to talk about what Javier was doing with anyone not Javier. 

It wasn’t until there was hustling and rushed activity in the halls that you suspected he was back, and judging by the security making their way over there, had Franklin Juardo in custody. Your palms sat flat on your desk, eyes shut as you took a deep breathe in. You felt relieved he was back, but somehow it didn’t make you feel any better. 

At some point you had seen his lawyer enter the embassy, and if he had looked your way he definitely would have noticed the glaring squint sent his way. You didn’t want to even start wondering just how much he was being paid to sacrifice any dignity or integrity he had to protect these people. 

Whatever had happened once they returned, it also didn’t make Javi feel any better either. By the time he made it to his office, it was late. Late enough the sun had started going down and you were in his chair with your feet resting on the desk. Your uncomfortable shoes kicked off over an hour ago as you flipped through the same file over and over. 

Once again the droning of the clock distracted your brain enough not to realize anyone had approached until Javi quickly opened and more aggressively shut the door. Carelessly tossing his DEA jacket off onto a nearby chair before rubbing a hand over his face. Your head tilted with wide eyes as you waited for him to come to you. 

Finally he looked at you with a large breathe, hands on his hips. “Christina?” Shaking your head no, you could see his jaw tick in frustration. He walked further in and sat on the edge of his desk beside your resting feet. “Brave of a subordinate to think she can just use her bosses desk as a footstool.” 

As he nodded down your face fell in regret, immediately moving them up only to have Javi chuckle softly to himself. Grabbing your feet gently and pulling them into his lap, gently massaging what spots he knew were uncomfortable. You looked pensively at him before finding the courage to ask. “How bad is it?” His head turned more to you with a look of confusion before you clarified. “The lawyer. I saw him when he first got here.” 

Javi let a large sigh out, turning his focus back to the soles of your feet. Sometimes a distraction with his hands helped his brain focus, probably why the nicotine gum didn’t do anything to help. “Said he’s sure I can’t make the charges stick, that he’ll get Juardo off in no time. He’s good.” 

Your brows furrowed, sitting up properly and leaving Javi’s touch entirely so you could lean in closer to his face. “He’s not good, Javi. He just knows his own clients can throw money around to do whatever they want. He’s expensive and doesn’t give a shit about being moral, that’s all.” 

Deep brown eyes bled into yours, as the softer Javi returned slowly to you. Standing up you moved in front of him, his legs giving you just enough space to properly keep close. Your hands cupped the sides of his jaw, thumbs rubbing over the skin, an act normally soothing enough to see Javi’s eyes flutter shut but this time he just caressed one of your wrists with his as he held your waist with the other. 

“I’m just waiting for Crosby to pull me into his office and tell me that nabbing the cartels own money launderer was somehow the wrong move.” His hands raised just long enough to pull you in as close as the space allowed, guiding yours to wrap around his neck. Holding your chin with his fingers he nudges his nose against yours. 

“They don’t like anything you do because they want to keep you focused on the carrot on the string, rather then going for the food directly.” As soon as you said it you got it. A smirk along with a laugh as he runs his hair over the side of your head. 

 “That’s it. You’ve done it that was the worst one.” You started laughing as well, Javi pulling you in with a smile when you tried to get away. “Good thing we didn’t hire you for the marketing team.” 

Your foreheads eventually found a resting spot against the other as Javi switched from holding you static to squeezing where his hands lay on your body as he thought more and more. “You know what I mean though, Javi. They want you to think that you’re the one in the wrong for caring about how much harm these people actually do. You saw it, what looks good on paper is all that they care about producing. That doesn’t take away from what you’re doing, which is actually wanting to help the people men in Cali hurt.”

Javi finally nudged his nose against yours once more, but this time cupping your cheeks softly to pull you into a gentle kiss. A kiss that turned a little more urgent the longer you didn’t have the will power to pull away. 

You slid your hands down to his sides, tempted to sneak under the fabric of his shirt to enjoy the feeling of his bare skin, but managed to pull your lips away from him leaving a much more soft kiss to his forehead. Eventually you let each other go a big, Javi holding you at the waist while yours rested on his thighs. “If they don’t like this, they’re certainly not going to like what we’re going for next.” 

Your eyes remained firm. Out of the four only one remained in charge here in Colombia to have any major influence. “Miguel.” 

Javi nodded. “Miguel. We get him I may actually have a fucking chance at ending this.” One thing he still adored on you was that look you held right now. Focused and intense, always paying close attention to whatever he shared with you no matter how much of it you likely weren’t supposed to know. “If this informant of Feistl and Van Ness comes through, it’d give us the upper hand. Getting Miguel Rodriguez is huge at this point. Everything goes through him now, and if we take that away from they might not recover from it.” 

You both wished his tone was hopeful, but it was increasingly more touch each day to find the bright side of Javi’s gloom. What he needed now wasn’t that though, he just needed you there with him. That was enough to keep him going, for now at least. Your hands rubbed over his thighs now mindlessly, but the caress was strong enough that Javi could feel it. “When you said Cali was going to be completely different, I didn’t realize that meant having almost no one on your side. I mean I know it’s all technically the same, but this time just feels...” 

While you trailed off Javi knew exactly what words they were. “Bleak. Way more fucking bleak.” The tension in his jaw returned and it poked at your heart again. You glanced to see shut blinds at his office window and took a deep breathe through your nose as you turned back to him, hands rubbing over his thighs both higher and now a purposeful degree of firmer. 

Javi breathed an almost silent laugh out, standing up off the desk, pulling you close into him sharing a softer kiss than before. “Even here, you just can’t control yourself can you?” 

As your fingers danced up the length of his shirt he snatched them and shook them away. “Let’s go home, bebita. I’ve got a few ideas how you can cheer me up.” Smirking at the clearly flustered look your started to grow, Javi turned you around and nudged you to go grab your things. 

It wasn’t until you reached the door that you stopped and turned around, seeing Javi still standing there watching you. Before you could ask, he closed the gap and pushed you out with a hand on your lower back. It was easier to get Javi to open up at home than it was here. This place now kept becoming a constant reminder of his almost impossible mission. 

As much as you liked to tease Javi and his insatiable appetite, you preferred to properly take care of him first. You declined a very tempting and handsy offer to join him in a shower, wanting to make him something warm and comforting to eat. He did it for you, but never his own comfort food and never for his own sake. 

Focused on making sure everything was cooking right, you failed to notice the sound of the shower turning off at all until two strong arms wrapped around your front followed by a very large needy creature pulling you back slightly into his chest. Javi didn’t say anything, simply allowed you to cook while his face was tucked into your neck, whispering occasional compliments for how good everything smelled. 

From your position, you could feel his jean were back on, but forewent a belt and sat undone likely as a ploy to entice you with the coarse dark hair you might just be able to see if you looked long enough. A soft tee shirt covered his chest, which was rare these days for him to choose something casual. Almost as if he wanted to always be closer to be ready to go at a moments notice. 

His hands roamed your stomach and instinctively you flinched almost out of his touch, only to be gently pulled back in, one hand now playing with his palm flat against it and the other holding onto your hip. “Hey, there’s nothing to be self conscious about, queirda.” That one had been a slow process between you, accepting what you looked like without comparing it to what he’s been with before. 

Moving from your front, Javi slide his hand up to grasp your bandaged one. He seemed to think for a moment before the words whispered themselves out. “It wasn’t-” You felt a deep sigh of air on the side of your face. “Seeing that kind of blood on you, it knew it wasn’t serious but it still just..”

“Scared you.” Finishing his trailed off sentence, you turned the burner off twisted in his hold to face him. Moving the bandaged hand up to cup the side of his cheek. Your face was soft, but you felt the same kind of fear in your heart. “You’re not the only one.” 

It was a quiet moment standing in each others arms. There was worse things ahead that neither of you could predict, but you needed to keep your own head afloat, if just to help keep Javi’s up too. You watched whatever thought he was lost in, move on as a small smile took its place again. Tapping your side he moved to the cupboard. “You’ve done enough, let me do this go sit down.” 

Javi moved around the kitchen with a comfortably you don’t remember existing beforehand. It was there in when you two left for Texas, him and his father working in perfect synchronicity like he loved being in the kitchen, but being here it wasn’t one you had been used too. 

Getting together with Javi was both easy and incredibly difficult. The feelings between you two was the easy part. It genuinely surprised you how well you got on right from your first day, and he had to be the one to chase you. He took every opportunity to show you what you meant to him and how much he cared, and quickly it pulled the mask off. 

Javier cared deeply, more deep than most of the people he worked with. It’s why his actions were so brash and sometimes questionable. He did what he did because he’s not here to just shove cartels behind bars, you know he sees the country, walks in the city and sees the lives of the people those cartels effect. The people he’s watched get hurt, or worse along the way. 

Javier shows his heart on his sleeve, but so many people brush it off as arrogance or anger. But watching him, start serving the warm little meal you made for him, moving around the kitchen with little things you both finally added too. 

Last time you had been provided an apartment, but once things with Javi got started, he suspiciously got you to stay over with him more nights than not. Always suggesting you bring this or that over just in case you need it, and before you knew it you had decorated his place with some of your life. Now though, you both lived here, and it was the first time it felt like a home for both of you, not just a space you included yourself in. 

You wanted to hold onto this feeling for just a little while longer. Give him just enough to keep that content look on his face with you as long as you could before it all gets swept away the second he steps into the embassy. You had more than one idea for that, but food was first. 

It wasn’t until later, when you told him in a sweet but needy voice, hands playing with the open button of his jeans as your finger tips brushed his stomach. “I should get you out of these jeans, they can’t be comfy right?” 

Javi’s smirk read right through you, “What did you have in mind instead, quierda?” All you did was tug at the fabric a little more nodding to your bedroom. Laughing a bit, he kept a hand on the back of your neck suddenly. The gesture almost having you jump in surprise, Javi knew exactly what he was doing. His large band was so warm on your neck and it almost tingled down your spine as he held you firm enough that he could direct you elsewhere with any gesture. 

You knew where his path was though. Javi moved suddenly to crowd you up against the bedroom wall, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. His tongue heavy and demanding on yours as he kept that one hand on your neck. His groans coming out almost more aggressively as he switched from coaxing your moans out with his tongue, to forcing gasps from biting your bottom lip. 

He switched back and forth as if he couldn’t get enough of either taste. When your hands slipped under the softness of his shirt and gently raked over the bare skin, Javi made up his mind. 

His hold on you pushing enough to put you down on your knees. You wanted to look up at those daring aggressive eyes as he let his lust control him, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the dark hair just teasing you as it sat above his cock under the jeans. Your hands braced themselves on the meat of his thighs as you made your mind up. 

This was Javi’s show, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to take care of him. Javi murmured your name only to be interrupted with a hiss as you leaned your head in to nuzzle your nose against the impressively large bulge straining against him. Your mouth pressing harder against the fabric to just barley tease his cock, and by the twitch he let out, you knew his cock wanted to be treated well too. 

Sliding your hands up to just on either side of his hips, you looked up at him. “Will you let me take care of you Javier?” 

Javi nodded as he grit his teeth, “Pull me out, baby.” His hand rightly wound itself in your hair, jilting you head back just slightly as you pulled his jeans down just enough to get your hand around his cock. Jeans resting now just below his ass, you had enough space to move your hand gently over him as much as you wanted. 

The moan Javi let out as you kissed his tip was music to your ears. You almost instinctualy shut your eyes, your insides wanting you to lose yourself in the pleasure even just giving it to him, but Javi always pressed you to look at him. So you behaved. Licking and kissing the tip just enough to suck just that into your mouth you already could taste the precum spilling out. So you sucked more, uncaring that it was mixing sloppily with your saliva. Pulling away you properly wrapped a hand around his cock. 

You always were teased about having small hands, but it was only apparent to you when Javi’s thick cock would need two of your own hands to reach all the way around. But you kept one on his thigh as you used the slickness around his tip to coat his cock, unable to resist trailing you mouth down the sides your hand wasn’t touching. Adding to the slick mess as you stroked him. 

The sound was obscene, the wet slide of your hand as you left almost greedy kisses with your tongue down his length until the grip on your hair was almost painful. “This your idea of taking care of me?” 

Looking up, your hand was still stroking up and down as your mouth left him enough to give a much more warm and gentle tone, “I’ll always take care of you.” That gentle softness ruptured by you finally sliding his cock into your mouth. 

There wasn’t much room to work with, Javi had you pinned up to the wall. The most room you were going to work with was to suck him deep. Javi’s thighs trembled as your warm mouth sucked him over and over, his hand gently guiding you faster if you slowed down to teasingly. It had taken time to get such a small mouth used to his size, and the deeper he brought you the more your eyes stung from how much they were starting to water. 

But you sucked him more, your lips sealed tight around him, his cock sliding deep into your throat as if it was as warm and tight as your pussy. He was impatient, he always wanted to pull you off before he cums so he can fuck you. 

That look on his face right at that moment, his head thrown back with his mouth opening in a moan, is what you wanted to keep him feeling like. Just giving him something good for his own pleasure, nothing more and you were starting to think he was going to accept that, at least this time. 

Swearing, his tight grip in your hair shifts to rake through it almost more sensually, hazy eyes looking down at you he tries not to lose it then and there. “Taking me so well, don’t you? Always wanting my cock so deep.” 

One hand of yours drifted up from his thigh, winding up right at edge of his hip close enough that your palm partially siding behind him. Javi let out a wistful sigh, the tender almost innocent gesture pulling him far closer to the edge than expected, and this time what he wanted was exactly what you wanted. “Fuck- oh fuck, I’m close. I’m so fucking close, this fucking mouth..” 

You could feel Javi’s body tensing under your palms, a slight shake to his muscles as you pulled his orgasm closer and closer with every bob of your head. Your eyes slid shut totally, wanting to focus on nothing but how he feels and what he sounds like. The heavy weight of his cock on your tongue was so overwhelming, how thick and deep he was in your mouth sending your nerves into a frenzy of if you could handle it, but you did. 

Javi’s gentle groan of your name caught your attention, and you squeezed the part of his cheek that your hand had found itself cupping in response, but you never let him go without you. “Gonna cum down you’re throat, bebita. You gonna be good for me? Gonna swallow it all for me?” 

The closer he felt his orgasm, the more Javi talked, some nonsense, some muttered Spanish you couldn’t make out. “Let me fill your mouth, baby let me fill you,” his cock throbbed in your mouth and his voice moaned out in desperation as he came. 

You could barley pull off of him he was so close to you, so you pulled his hips into your mouth deeper, the dark hair around his cock brushing against you as Javi spilled into your mouth. Between you pulling him in and Javi’s hand keeping your head in place, he filled your mouth with his cum so intensely. 

Trying to swallow everything as he came, but your eyes watered more and more at how overwhelmingly deep he was and how much he came right down your throat. The sensation forcing whines out of you that vibrated more against his sensitive cock. Milking his cum for every drop he could spill. 

As the last of it was swallowed down, you could hear Javi’s breathing in pants as his entire body sagged in relaxation. You very slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth, the slide causing him to let out a mix of a gasp and a hiss as you did so. 

For a moment all he could do was look at you, your red eyes with tears drying on your cheeks but all with a dazed proud smile as you watched him come down to earth. Finally you moved your hands to gently cup his cock as you ever so lightly licked his length once over, cleaning him of what cum had been mixed with your saliva coating what you didn’t swallow. 

“Jesus, fuck, come here, queirda-” Javi pulled you up to your feet as he jaw clenched from the over stimulation. Wanting to put more force into it initially, Javi paused. Struck at how softly you cupped his cheek and the gentle press of your lips on his, demanding nothing greater than a chaste kiss.  

His hands moved to your hips and pushed you slightly against the wall, returning the kiss just enough to keep him stuck in that fuzzy overwhelmed state, your hands raked through his hair as you pulled him off your lips. Pressing a kiss into his cheek, you moved both of you so Javi could sit on the edge of the bed. 

As his hand tried pulling you into his lap, you snatched your arm away to grab some simple sweatpants for him. Turning your back to face him you had a cheeky grin on your face. “You think you can handle this part by yourself?” 

A full laugh left you as Javi’s face fell into a flat unimpressed look. By the time you both got into bed, Javi had laid down first, and tried to coax you up onto his mouth. His grumpiness only shining through at being denied giving you pleasure was endearing. You just shook your head, cuddling up to his side as he turned onto his to properly hold you. “Really? You’re denying me the pleasure of tasting you? How is that far?” 

You shared another gentle kiss before you nudged your nose against his. “Sometimes it’s not about me Javi. Some nights I just want to make it about you. You deserve good things.” 

There was an unspoken moment of silence between you, he could snark back at how much pleasure he got from getting to taste you, but it was the first time in days he truly felt relaxed. That his muscles could melt into the sheets, and for now he accepted it. Pulling you close into his arms he muttered things against the top of your head in Spanish that he hoped you wouldn’t catch onto quite yet. 

In the quiet of the night, the only words spoken between you were short and simple before sleep over took you both. Javi’s voice rung deep in your ears, “It’s only going to get worse from here, quierda.” You wound your hand up onto his face to pull him into a final sleepy kiss. 

“Whatever happens I have your back, no matter what anyone else feels.” 

[rhapsodynew]

John Lennon and Yoko Ono waving white flags at the press conference to launch Nutopia in 1973.

Everyone can get citizenship of Nutopia — the virtual state has launched a website where such a service is provided. After registering via e-mail, the user receives a digital identity card.

The citizens of Nutopia are celebrated on the globe. You can click on the dot symbolizing a particular resident and read the message, or you can click on the heart icon and "spread love."

John Lennon and Yoko Ono founded Nutopia in 1973.

"We are announcing the birth of the conceptual country of Nutopia. Citizenship of the country can be obtained by declaring your awareness of Nutopia. Nutopia has no land, no borders, no passports, only people. Nutopia has no laws other than cosmic ones. All people living in Nutopia are ambassadors of the country. As two ambassadors of Nutopia, we ask for diplomatic immunity and recognition in the United Nations of our country and its people."

The name of the country arose as a result of the merger of two words: "new" (new) and "utopia" (utopia). Thus, Nutopia acted as a living embodiment of Lennon's ideas about the ideal social structure, so vividly described by him two years earlier in the song "Imagine", - a state in which there is no religion, government and its own territory; where anyone can freely accept his citizenship or renounce it.

True, at that time, the only new Utopians were John and Yoko themselves, but according to other signs, Nutopia could be described as a completely normal microstate.

The Declaration on the Creation of Nutopia, signed by John Lennon and Yoko Ono on April 1, 1973.

The country's flag consisted of only one color - white, similar to the cover of the Beatles' "White Album", which personified freedom. However, the journalists saw this as a symbol of surrender, to which Lennon, waving a white cloth at the conference, replied to them as follows:

 "We surrender to peace and love."

The flag of Nutopia

Nutopia also had its own seal. On it, John depicted a seal holding a ball with yin-yang symbols on its nose, which can be explained by a clever wordplay (in English, "seal" it means both "seal" and "seal") or a reference to another pinniped, which John once proclaimed himself in the song "I am the Walrus".

And to top it all off, the Lennon couple opened the embassy of Nutopia, located in their New York apartment in the Dakota house. However, the corresponding sign was hung not at the front door, but at the black, kitchen, entrance to the apartment, which, however, did not prevent everyone from finding the embassy. (Decades later, Yoko Ono noticed that her guests still prefer to use the back entrance.)

The Embassy of Nutopia is the main entrance to the Dakota Building, Manhattan, New York. It was at this gate that John Lennon would be shot dead in 1980

Here's a funny April Fool's joke. Or was John Lennon not joking at all?

Happy New Yorker John

Fans of John's work, we can consider ourselves full citizens of Nutopia, even though neither its founder nor she herself has been gone for a long time. After all, Lennon's ideas are still alive. And what if not the idea was the only force that kept this small invisible country afloat...

[goddess1111sblog]

I came across this cool success story on reddit by u/celestial-form. It is worth a read.❤️

A long success story

Here is the summary of my wonderful experience of consciously visualizing myself into a drama that later materialized.

I was 11 years old, living in Tehran, Iran, my birthplace. I was a very strange child with an abstract, sort of a metaphysical mind. I was very perceptive and questioned every area of life. One day I was observing my life and suddenly came to the conclusion that I don’t like my life. I didn’t like the country I lived in, I didn’t relate to the culture and I knew I couldn't thrive there. As I was a very imaginative child I told myself, what if I can escape this reality in my imagination?

The same night I lay down and before sleep, I decided to experience what it would be like If I lived in a different country and went to school there. As I am laying down I hold steadfast to the joy I would feel if I actually lived somewhere else. I couldn’t specify the country but i could specify the wonderful feeling of ahh, my wish has finally come true.

I resided in that feeling, and I even remember my attention wandering off into randomness but I brought it back and again held it steadfastly on the wonderful feeling of my desire being my reality. I dropped into sleep while holding the feeling and I found myself in a vivid dream (imaginal act). I was sitting in a classroom, there were black people and blonde people, and girls and boys were sitting in the same room (this doesn’t happen in Iran). I was sitting in the last row of the class on the right end of the room and I was observing my classmates. Suddenly I had an overpowering feeling that “omg, I live here, this is my classroom, this is my home.” and I had a feeling of certainty that this is a different country from my hometown. The dream was so intense and vivid that when I woke up I had to take a moment to realize that was a dream. I was so certain that I was living there with all of my being until I awoke and realized it was just a dream and I was terribly disappointed that it was all a dream, I nearly wanted to cry.

Fast-forwarding to age 12, my cousin from Germany calls to ask my Mom if she’d be interested in applying for the DV lottery program for a chance to win a U.S. green card. She said oh it must be a scam but if it’s free we will apply. So, all of us 3 members of the family applied and let it go. My mom kept saying oh this is probably fake, nothing is gonna happen. But since it was free she thought well we don’t have much to lose.

Next year comes and we get a phone call from my cousin in Germany. “I have good news and bad news,” she says what is it. K (me) has won the lottery but you can’t go with her because she’s a kid. If you had won you could take the entire family and kids under the age of 21. My mom was excited but also disappointed. She said well it’s ok, we’ll send her alone so she can finish her high school and college there.

Fast-forwarding again, a year passes and my family applies for the lottery again in hopes that they might win. And surely, my mom wins just a year after I had won. I was prepared to go to the U.S. alone, I had an interview appointment at the U.S. embassy in the UAE but we had to cancel it because now that my mom has won, she can take her 13-year-old child with her. So, exactly this happens. We go to the embassy and my mom and I get an American Visa added to our Iranian passports. they said once we enter the U.S. they will send us a permanent resident card in the mail.

So, I come to the U.S. with my newly divorced mother. I spoke English fluently almost with no accent. I am now 15 years old and entered my sophomore year in high school. One day I am sitting in my world history class, in the back of the room on the far right end row and I’m observing the room when suddenly I feel, “I have been here before.” I was sitting in the same exact spot I sat in and some of my classmates had blonde hair and others were black which is something I could never have in Iran.

I just want to point out, that at the age of 11 I had no access to Neville's teachings, I didn’t consciously know what I was doing, I just intended to escape my life in my imagination and I did it at night before sleep and I intensely focused on it because I was so deeply in love with the idea of living in a different country. I didn’t think about what country or even what it would look like, I only resided in the wonderful feeling that my wish is true and I held the feeling so intensely that I fell asleep to it and my subconscious mind put me in the exact drama that would resemble the feeling as completely true. My subconscious dreamed the scene automatically. I didn’t pick it.

Another point is, after that, I always had a sure feeling in my heart that one day I will live in a foreign land, even a psychic had told my mom that she sees suitcases packed and we are leaving the country. I was 12 at that time. my mother thought she was talking nonsense.

From the story that I have shared here, you may be able to tell that I personally nor my mom didn’t lift a finger to make it happen. It all came to us, my cousin offered to fill out the application for us, and she did everything. And my mom kept consciously doubting, she said it will never happen, this is a scam and such words but my subconscious conviction and imagination were far more powerful than the doubts of the conscious mind (i personally didn't think it's gonna happen either, I just had a feeling one day I'll live elsewhere. When we actually won it felt like a miracle. My parents were in the middle of a divorce, they sold the house and all our stuff, I and my mom moved in with my grandparents and suddenly we had good news about moving to the U.S. and everything was at the perfect time. I can even say, it was mathematically perfect timing and the orchestration was done so smoothly and effortlessly. like, an extremely fine work of drama.

I moved to the U.S. at the age of 15, which is 4 years after the visualization experience. Now, I am 24 and received my American passport 4 years ago. Since age 22 I have been consciously manifesting and using the law. Before that, I didn’t have any practice or technique that would allow me to “direct” the law. I manifested a 7 figure business and healed my shoulder injury all from the state of being half asleep. From the drowsy state between complete sleep and wakefulness.

The last thing I want to add is that you want to replace your feeling of attachment to an idea with the feeling of conviction and certainty that it is already done. It is the present reality. Instead of the worry feeling of “what if it doesn’t come true?” reside in the feeling of, “ahh, how wonderful that I am this…”.

It is truly about changing your concept of yourself. Even when you worry and have anxiety around your life you are still in the center of the universe with the divine. And always remember that you have these wonderful capacities because you are God’s child. As he said “yee are made in his image.” that means, the wonderful mind of the creator of this wonderful drama of a universe resides within you. Therefore as he dreams, you can dream too. It’s just about controlling your mind and feeling. And remember, the cause of all our suffering is that we have lost touch with our true Self which is one with the Lord of the universe.

Take this affirmation with you:

“I know that God’s power is limitless; and as I am made in His image, I, too, have the strength to overcome all obstacles.”

and, always, always, always, focus on the feeling of the wish fulfilled before falling asleep.

Here's the link if you wanna read it on the app :- 🔗🔗🔗

[spider-xan]

Yeah, I think I'm fucking done with the museum I volunteer at tbh

Finally got an e-mail from the CEO/president via the volunteer part addressing the museum's attempted censorship of Palestinian woman artists for a new exhibit that was defended by bullshit about how the museum has a policy of not getting political, which is a lie bc the museum was previously perfectly happy to do pro-Ukraine, anti-Russia programming and special exhibits last year, not to mention it openly works with the Israeli embassy and has had an artist say anti-Palestine shit in a lecture with no consequences before (I was there bc it was for an exhibit on Holocaust denial I was a docent for that otherwise had no Zionist content, so it caught me by surprise), and the museum released a half-assed 'We believe in human rights, so we're sad for the innocents on both sides and condemn H*mas' statement wth zero acknowledgment of genocide, and I've been there long enough to easily to pull out many other examples of the museum being political.

Anyway, this bullshit letter basically whined about how the mean Palestinian women bullied them and misrepresented what the museum did and called them liars, which is trash bc it was very clear what the museum did - they wouldn't allow the artists to mention Palestine in their work, among other censorship, including of the Nakba - but if you want the museum's side of the story, you have to contact a senior manager, and it's like, if you're so sure you're in the right side here, why not share it right in this e-mail?

But yeah, I think the only moral thing to do is to resign and state why, and honestly, I should have done that a long time ago due to other issues that have come up where the museum didn't listen to marginalized voices despite making a big show of it (eg. the TERF wizard shit, for which I was on an internal LGBT committee trying to stop it, but ofc it was too late by the time we knew).

[get-back-homeward]

Spring 1958: Access to All The Records

A million years ago, I had heard somewhere about how the Beatles had early on gotten ahold of the Lomax ethnomusicology collection: recordings of black folk singers in the American South. I’ve always wondered when? how? I myself didn’t get the chance to hear them until college with access to the music department’s library.

Listening to their 1960 home recordings, I felt convinced they’d had them by then. I Don’t Know (Oh Johnny) especially sounds like a teenage boy’s attempt to imitate those recordings. But where on earth would have have gotten access to them as teens?

Well, it looks like Lewisohn tracked down the source. In Spring 1958, John meets Tony Carricker at art school:

By some distance, friendships were the most attractive aspect of art school life for John. He and Tony Carricker gravitated toward each other on the basis of a shared love of music. As Tony puts it, “Early rock freaks found each other like drug takers will find each other.” He still recalls their first conversation, as they walked down the hill into town: “It was like an interrogation: ‘Have you got this?’ ‘Have you heard that?’ ‘Oh, you’ve got that, have you?’—it was like being vetted. I was in.”41 Tony had “Bloodshot Eyes” by Wynonie Harris, he had red label Vogue 78s, he introduced John to Bobby Freeman’s “Do You Want to Dance,” he had country blues and he loved Chuck Berry; when John found out Tony had memorized all the words of “Roll Over Beethoven” he got him to write them down for him. He recalls overhearing John saying to somebody, “He’s got all the records!”

Tony was one of those enthusiasts not merely prepared to accept whatever was available in the local shops but to seek out scarce sounds. He was a gatherer, hungry to expand his knowledge. He’d discovered that the cultural department of the American Embassy in London loaned Smithsonian Institution and other rare records free to applicants, on trust. Packages containing discs by Bessie Smith, Ida Cox, Lead Belly, Big Bill Broonzy, Blind Willie Johnson, Sleepy John Estes and other such fabulously exotic creatures, remarkable field recordings from the American South and rare studio sessions of the 1920s to 1940s, would be dispatched via Royal Mail from Grosvenor Square to Tony’s tiny house in Widnes, the return postage prepaid.

—Tune In (Ch. 8), Mark Lewisohn

Thank Tony, the American Embassy, the Smithsonian, and Royal Mail.

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Gotta say when you describe these yandere situations and whatnot, I just gotta wonder how does one casually bring up the fact they are a semi immortal being which represents a whole ass nation to their darling because if I was them I would think they were on all kinds of drugs.

Dry, dying grass crackled like popping joints as (Y/N) ran through the sparce countryside. Each pant that escaped her dry, bruised throat felt like a hot, busted, lightbulb. Painful and unwanted in this peaceful land.

Though, she never felt peace. Instead, she had felt hunted and tormented by one man, no that was too nice a term for such a creature.

The being was a tall, orange haired, demon named, Sebastiaan De Smit, or Baas as he had urged her to call him.

Like a deadly serpent, he had slithered his way into her life. Whisking her away on adventures, showering her in compliments and love while keeping his true missions a secret.

It wasn’t until his coils had tightened with no possibilities of squirming free, that (Y/N) realized her mistake. The Dutch man had not only isolated her, but black mailed her. Her darkest fears and false rumors with fake evidence held above her head like a guillotine’s blade ready to drop unless she submitted.

For many months she was stuck in his home, forced to live in similar patterns of a housecat. Sleep by day, awake by night to deal with a maliciously happy captor. (Y/N) attempted to avoid him, hiding in various places around the house, but each time she would be found. Dragged into his blood speckled clothing.

It became too much. Even under the threat of a destroyed life, (Y/N) squeezed her way out of the second story window, falling on to a tree branch of the near by oak on her way down.

(Y/N)’s bruised ribs still ached at its remembrance, and a large root helped knock her back to the present. Knees bleeding from scraping against the dry ground.

Hissing, (Y/N) stood and brushed off the dirt, smearing the small red droplets. Glancing around, the foreign woman realized she had reached the edge of city. Its lights were like lighthouse guiding a ship and she was not going to refuse its assistance.

Energy renewed (Y/N) dashed toward the town. Her hair flew in the wind as she entered the city with the rising sun.

Trotting, (Y/N) wandered around the strange city looking for an open business. Her eyes flitting like a scared animal in fear that her openness could lead to her recapture.

A loud whoop made caused a rabbit-like jump from the panicked woman as she stared at its source.

The classic flashing lights turned the fear into joy as a smile widened her face. (Y/N) ran to the vehicle, tears of relief streaking her face as she bounced in place, waiting for the officers to exit.

Two officers slowly exited the car. Stoic faced and dark, armored uniforms were on the fit men. Their steps long as they approached (Y/N).

She showed no fear, as they questioned her about who she was and why she was wondering around bare foot.

(Y/N)’s hiccups broke up her sentences as she answered each one, multiple times asking to go to the nearest embassy. To let her go home.

The two men shared a dark look, as her tears dried, it’s unknown message sending a shiver down (Y/N)’s spine.

As she stepped back, they stepped forward. The awkward dance continued for a few steps, before the pressure became too much.

She ran.

Two feet then three feet of distance and it continued to grow as the cops dashed behind her. They yelled for her stop. Warned of worse consequences to come, but she didn’t care. Something within in her screamed at her to run.

Grabbing the dark street sign at the corner, (Y/N) attempted to use it as a way to round the corner without loosing speed. The metal squeaked as she rounded, ready to dash off.

When two metal prongs hit her arm. Jolts of electricity made muscles tense as she collapsed on the cold cement. A silent scream was obvious from the open mouth and wide eyes as her body entered a pattern of seizing and relaxing.

With the current slowing the world become hay. The officers closed in, grabbing (Y/N). They sounded far away despite holding her close. The last moment before she succumbed to the darkness was the car door closing.

When consciousness returned to (Y/N), she felt like stiff and on a plastic covered gym mat. Her heavy (E/C) eyes opened slowly and glanced around the grey cell.

There was nothing, but four walls and a door in the room. Nothing to help her escape.

Sitting up, the bed crinkled as her feet were placed on the icy floor. She began to chew on her lower lip, her teeth etching new scabs over an old scar.

Her mind didn’t have long to process the fullness of her situation when the loud clang of a door unlocking distracted her flustered mind.

Its iron hinges creaked as the door opened to a bright hall a dark silhouette within its frame.

(Y/N) gasped as Sebastiaan walked in with the grace of a predatory deer and a matching smile pulling on his cheeks.

“Hallo, mijn liefste.”

(Y/N) whimpered a small how as she pressed herself into the corner. The cinderblocks helping to hide nothing.

Chuckling, Sebastiaan covered his mouth, hiding his sharp teeth. “Why, the politie helped me.”

“Why would they help a monster like you?!” She cried. “You KIDNAPPED ME SEBASTIAAN FOR GOODNESS SAKE!”

His smile widened at the outburst, enjoying the emotions that (Y/N) was finally letting flow.

“It’s because as the second representee of the Netherlands, you” He pointed his clasped hands at (Y/N). “Have kept me from causing as much chaos. Thus, stopping me from ruining too many innocent lives for the hell of it.”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed. “Second representive? Wh-what is that?”

“Let’s just say;” He gestured like he was weighing two options in his hands, “That means not only will you and I be together for a long time, but each escape could be deemed a national crisis.”

Her confusion remained; nothing felt answered, but her gut sank with the realization that no one would be able to save her.

[itmeblog]

I spent way too long answering this so here

Text Below

Constantin X asked:

1: which timeline did he [Galu] come from? 17 seasons!!! 2: what's the name of her new ship and what's it's class type? 3: Is she an officially documented GU member as a Visa? I'm concerned her boss will rip her to shreds when she comes back to being an Inco. Five years AWOL. Don't think jean is going to take it well. 4: how did you come up with a spy mail company?

My answers

1.Galu?! The world may never know. Artina has been going on for so long, and the last time someone tried to cancel the show there was such an uproar, people have just decided to keep it around. And since the show can't be canceled, the writers have gone mad with power. The series stopped making sense seasons ago and has essentially become it's own fanfic with multiple canon AUs, timelines, and about 6 different discovered "parents" for Artina, each with a different noble background, and one that gave her magic powers for a season.

2. It's still a C-class ship...sort of, C-class has to do with it's expected travel (usually on planet), size, and cargo. It is, however, outfitted with the newest Eolaran tech so it's speed and durability and even the manner in which it travels, are yet unclassified but are likely better than most commercially available A-class ships

3. Alright, so technically Nova does have a planet of residence now (gifted to her by Hatov) she is a member of Eolara. Jeanne was actually very pleased. Eolara has access to the Galactic Union and a ~sort of~ membership now (this is more for PR reasons, the GU can't actually stop Eolarans from going anywhere they please, the GU simply doesn't have the tech) but Eolarans refuse to use the GU database as their sole source of information. The WILM initiative is still an information gathering mission to decide which planets are safe/welcoming (which involves knowing politics/power structures etc) . The person who knows best how to get that sort of information...is Jeanne (lol). Now, Jeanne loves this because not only is Eolara extremely wealthy, Jeanne has never been able to take on the Galactic Union head on before. They always had better tech, more people, and better PR. Working with Eolarans gives Jeanne access to tech, a little bit of political immunity, and the social power that comes with being an Eolaran consultant. And the reasons Jeanne won't turn on the Eolarans are simple, 1. that's a lot of power to give up and 2. she loves a steady client, particularly a very, very wealthy one. I believe access to that has more than made up for Nova's disappearance. Though Nova is not "technically" an InCo anymore, she is an "Eolaran ambassador" functioning under the WILM act, so, for Nova who primarily gathered information (didn't sell it) it's the same work except she's technically working for Eolara.

4. I was watching Ad Astra actually (movie with Brad Pitt). And there were space pirates on the moon and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how they worked?? Like they'd need air, and heat, energy, that they couldn't be stealing all that from the embassies without them, at some point, figuring out where they were based. In short, it didn't make sense, why let them steal valuable and incredibly expensive resources where you have to know where they are and when they're going to attack next (when they're running out of air, or water, or food). Why not just get rid of them (particularly in a setting where no one will find the bodies and an incredibly low chance of hitting civilians or making a false hit)?? The only answer I could come up with was that they had to be more dangerous dead, than alive. I.e. they had some information triggered to release in the event of their death. And then I hated the message in Ad Astra, "in the infinite universe, we're alone" because that's boring, so I expanded their jobs. What if these people with all that information did travel and there were aliens and people wanted to stop them, how would they work? What would they do? Who would take such a dangerous job etc and InCos were born!! (Full disclosure I fell asleep during that movie about five times, I had a ton of time to think about it)

[infinite-happiness]

GKS-G 2023 (1st Round Embassy Track) - Part 1

Hello world!

So this is my very first post here.

Maybe I'll be talking about my GKS application journey on this blog and share my experiences online with you guys (if you happened to stumble upon my writings or just somehow ended up here on this blog :D)! Let's get the ride together!!

Anyway, I made it to the 1st round selection (and hopefully will do so until the final round - Amiin *praying hard) of the Global Korea Scholarship program for the 2023 intake . Well, so proud of myself for making it so far (patting me on the back XD). You did well myself! :)

The application itself is such a tiring, long process which require time and dedication (money I could say hehe). Currently, I am waiting for the 2nd round result by NIIED (합격 고고) which will be announced on early May (dunno maybe in the first week? last year it was on the 6th!) And while waiting, I think it would be good to record my application journey so far, so here I am writing this! Hope this will helpful too for you guys who are interested in applying GKS in the future!^^

So first thing first, I had to prepare all the documents while working full time that it was quite stressing for me. I only had time after work to write my essays. In addition, as English is not first language in my country, I had to get my documents translated into English first and then going back and forth to get my documents apostilled (as I am not living in the capital city - it took me 2 hours one way). Another thing is about the recommendation letter (this consumed me more time and energy than I thought haha - you guys better prepare it beforehand). I asked my academic advisor to write one (I had prepared my draft before contacting him, which he then asked about it actually). I had to explain to him multiple times to make sure he signs across the backflap of the envelop as well. But when I got the document.. no.. nothing! my professor didn't sign on the backflap :( On top of that, the document was so messed up, it was crumpled here and there (JNE is not professional this time ㅠ). I had to contact my professor again and asked him to send me a new one (with sign on the backflap) and to put some cardboard along with the packet to make sure it arrived safely. In the end I got my letter back (safely), but it took about one week (obviously lol).

After that, I arranged all the documents needed and sent it to the Korean embassy like one weeks before the application closed (still using JNE tho wkwk). The applicants of the embassy track in my country (I'm from Indonesia) was around 699 people and the quota is only 27! YES, you read it right! I had almost like 700 competitors ㅠ but I was indeed so lucky to get selected (Thanks God!).

The Korean embassy in my country chose like 45 candidates in the document screening. They announced the successful candidates list on their website, but they only posted the applicant's given name (last year they published the full name), and there was my first name as well! But, but.. the thing is my name is not unique at all, most of the women in my country are having the same name with me :) and that was not cool all lol. I was afraid if it actually were not me (although I had a feeling that is was me ㅋㅋ) and got more paranoid after asking one of the 2022 successful applicants as he said that last year the embassy mailed the successful candidates first before posting the list on the website. And I didn't receive any mail from the embassy (had been checking every 5 minutes lol, inbox and spam). I couldn't concentrate on my work because of my anxiety (despite that my Korean ehm crush (?) kept telling me that I would make it because I have TOPIK level 6 - but still.. ㅠ). And then the lunch time came and I was about to do my Dhuzr prayer that I got an email from the embassy congratulating me! I was so happy and was about to cry until I finally read on the mail that I had to do the interview the next day (they said it would start from 8 to 11, first come first serve based)! Yep, the next very day! Congrats to me! lol . I felt overwhelmed because I'm new in my company, and I didn't know if one day notice for a leave is acceptable here. So as soon as I finished my prayer, I reached up to the HR representative in my Department and asked her about the matter. She said that it was okay as long as my supervisor okay with it. Fortunately, my supervisor let me to take a leave for the next day (thank you Mr~ - I told him that I had an urgent family matter lol).

With that, I started the interview preparation as soon as I got off from work. I studied my essays (read it again and again), watched videos related and read people's blogs as well (thank you people :)). I also made a list of questions that the interviewers might ask and recorded myself to practice my answers until late (not recommended but I had no choice ㅜ).

Well, this is going to be a loooong story so maybe I will split it into some parts (I know you guys will be bored to read a very long passage coz so do I :D). Will be back for the second part about my interview experience (and hopefully will be consistent with this blog XD)!

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day! <3

XOXO

[beardedmrbean]

(Reuters) - A U.S. woman was detained and fined by a Russian court on Wednesday for walking a calf on Moscow's Red Square that she said she had bought to save from slaughter, Russian state media reported.

Alicia Day, 34, was fined 20,000 roubles ($285) for obstructing pedestrians in an unauthorised protest and sentenced to 13 days of "administrative arrest" on a separate charge of disobeying police orders.

"I bought the calf so that it wouldn't be eaten," TASS news agency quoted her as saying.

Video shared by state media showed Day explaining that she had got a driver to bring the calf to Red Square by car. "I wanted to show it a beautiful place in our beautiful country," she said.

The U.S. embassy did not immediately comment when asked about the case.

Day had been living in a suburb of Moscow on a tourist visa, the RIA news agency said, and had carried out similar acts of protest before in other countries.

In 2019, the Daily Mail newspaper reported that she had "rescued" a pig she named Jixy Pixy from slaughter in western England, brought it to London by taxi and taken it for walks and restaurant meals, but had to hand it to an animal welfare charity after her landlord discovered she was keeping it in a small apartment.

[theneonpier]

The Pillar of Trajan by William Wordsworth

Where towers are crushed, and unforbidden weeds O’er mutilated arches shed their seeds; And temples, doomed to milder change, unfold A new magnificence that vies with old; Firm in its pristine majesty hath stood A votive Column, spared by fire and flood:— And, though the passions of man’s fretful race Have never ceased to eddy round its base, Not injured more by touch of meddling hands Than a lone obelisk, ‘mid Nubian sands, Or aught in Syrian deserts left to save From death the memory of the good and brave. Historic figures round the shaft embost Ascend, with lineaments in air not lost: Still as he turns, the charmed spectator sees Group winding after group with dream-like ease; Triumphs in sun-bright gratitude displayed, Or softly stealing into modest shade. —So, pleased with purple clusters to entwine Some lofty elm-tree, mounts the daring vine; The woodbine so, with spiral grace, and breathes Wide-spreading odours from her flowery wreaths.

 Borne by the Muse from rills in shepherds’ ears Murmuring but one smooth story for all years, I gladly commune with the mind and heart Of him who thus survives by classic art, His actions witness, venerate his mien, And study Trajan as by Pliny seen; Behold how fought the Chief whose conquering sword Stretched far as earth might own a single lord; In the delight of moral prudence schooled, How feelingly at home the Sovereign ruled; Best of the good—in pagan faith allied To more than Man, by virtue deified.

 Memorial Pillar! ‘mid the wrecks of Time Preserve thy charge with confidence sublime— The exultations, pomps, and cares of Rome, Whence half the breathing world received its doom; Things that recoil from language; that, if shown By apter pencil, from the light had flown. A Pontiff, Trajan here the Gods implores, There greets an Embassy from Indian shores; Lo! he harangues his cohorts— there the storm Of battle meets him in authentic form! Unharnessed, naked, troops of Moorish horse Sweep to the charge; more high, the Dacian force, To hoof and finger mailed;—yet, high or low, None bleed, and none lie prostrate but the foe; In every Roman, through all turns of fate, Is Roman dignity inviolate; Spirit in him pre-eminent, who guides, Supports, adorns, and over all presides; Distinguished only by inherent state From honoured Instruments that round him wait; Rise as he may, his grandeur scorns the test Of outward symbol, nor will deign to rest On aught by which another is deprest. —Alas! that One thus disciplined could toil To enslave whole nations on their native soil; So emulous of Macedonian fame, That, when his age was measured with his aim, He drooped, ‘mid else unclouded victories, And turned his eagles back with deep-drawn sighs. O weakness of the Great! O folly of the Wise!

 Where now the haughty Empire that was spread With such fond hope? her very speech is dead; Yet glorious Art the power of Time defies, And Trajan still, through various enterprise, Mounts, in this fine illusion, toward the skies: Still are we present with the imperial Chief, Nor cease to gaze upon the bold Relief Till Rome, to silent marble unconfined, Becomes with all her years a vision of the Mind.

[sysakiddo]

first I'd like to say that I adoreeee the diplomacy au to bitsss (gives me hope for my future<33) I am wodering if you're using like your own experiences for inspo/ basing it off the way it kinda works for whatever country you're from or its mostly imaginary? as a fellow IR survivor and current victim of embassy internships, it's soooo different from what I have seen (ofc this is a work of fiction but like where I've interned it was so rare to speak with the Ambassador 1on1 bcz you're just some random kid, to let alone go on vacation with him) so I'm like curious if it's maybe different where you're from or you're just playing it up for the sake of entertainment? sorry for the long ask lmao <333

heyyy!! thank you SO MUCH for this ask and I feel absolutely giddy about the fact that a fellow IR survivor reads my shit 🧡 (and also scared I'm going to write something incredibly lame) So, I originally started writing from my Parisian experience. But of course, you are totally right about the reality of being an intern - I've rarely ever seen our ambassador and our communication mostly consisted of the cringiest mails one can imagine (from HIS side). However, as I said here, my supervisor was the loveliest woman who really pushed me to do my best and gave me a lot of lessons about being a woman in the diplomatic world. We often had lunch/dinner together + with her husband (who was our economic diplomat and the funniest lad) and kept in touch after I left and she helped me a lot with my thesis. So it wasn't the ambassador directly but a diplomat nonetheless who took me under their wing and guided me through what definitely was the worst year of my life so far. BUT I heard some crazy stories from smaller (like 5 staff members small) embassies where the ambassadors are all buddy buddy with the interns and frequently take them out etc. just because they are so bored in their designated countries lmao. (my country is small and has some small-ass embassies, mainly in Africa) So yes, Anne/Max thingy is all made up and only here for the plot lmao. In this story, it's Daniel's situation (he has no idea if there are any interns at his embassy at the moment) which is the og real one. How is your internship going??? I need the gossip bestie 👀

thank you so much for this ask and I hope I answered coherently enough!! if you have any more questions feel free to ask 🧡🧡