The mission was over. The target neutralized. The city quiet. And the rooftop—secluded. Mostly. Jason sat back against the cold ledge, his helmet discarded beside him, the night air cool against his sweat-dampened hair. His legs were spread, a deliberate invitation, a challenge. Tim was on his knees between them, the rough fabric of his suit pressing against Jason’s tactical pants. “I still can’t believe you convinced me to do this on patrol,” Tim muttered, his voice a low rumble of complaint that did nothing to hide the tremor of anticipation in his hands. His fingers, sure and steady, curled around the heavy buckle of Jason’s belt, the leather creaking softly as he worked it open.

We apparently have no love for reforms in this timeline

… which renders the Bible an unreliable source of information.

I try to recognize this bias in my own thinking so can view the world more objectively.

I try to see this bias in myself so I view the world in a more objective way.