#its still technically the first of january

[micahdotgov]

i know she was listening to i brought you my bullets you brought me your love

[dreaming-medium]

Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. 

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale. 

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body. 

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same. 

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally. 

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on. 

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off. 

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this! 

If you pass. 

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face. 

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat. 

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his. 

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes. 

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use. 

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission. 

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination. 

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you. 

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face. 

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock. 

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can. 

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill. 

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction. 

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat. 

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon. 

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close. 

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own. 

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym. 

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table. 

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top. 

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket. 

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair. 

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest. 

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.” 

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers. 

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector. 

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top. 

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that. 

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job. 

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it. 

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you. 

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them. 

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are. 

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch. 

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Your eyes snap to him and you nod. 

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard. 

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined. 

“Yes.” 

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper. 

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick. 

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank. 

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth. 

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines. 

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl. 

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard. 

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick. 

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile. 

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper. 

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick. 

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips. 

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation. 

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance. 

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’” 

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…” 

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill? 

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end. 

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves. 

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you. 

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper. 

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you. 

Sheepishly, you look away from him. 

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest. 

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste. 

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks. 

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.�� He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue. 

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him. 

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were. 

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard. 

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either. 

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye. 

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you. 

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it. 

It’s weirdly comforting. 

It doesn’t feel weird at all. 

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens. 

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

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Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time. 

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to. 

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted. 

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond. 

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others. 

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all. 

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you. 

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went. 

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here. 

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly. 

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground. 

The others trickled in afterwards. 

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face. 

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others. 

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench. 

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet. 

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it. 

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere. 

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer. 

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger. 

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment. 

It should bother you. 

But it doesn’t. 

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it. 

But you would never tell him that. 

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you. 

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines. 

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects. 

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually. 

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans. 

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table. 

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead. 

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard. 

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. 

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that. 

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. 

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked. 

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie. 

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture. 

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning. 

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines. 

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you. 

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face. 

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself. 

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B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free. 

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table. 

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there. 

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside. 

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in. 

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office. 

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples. 

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore. 

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you. 

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants. 

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss. 

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk. 

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not. 

Instead, you focus on your job. 

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars. 

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada. 

“When and where was this taken?” you ask. 

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan. 

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow. 

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional. 

That’s for after the debrief. 

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind. 

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap. 

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse. 

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly. 

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you. 

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time. 

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

---------------------------------------

You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago. 

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair. 

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language. 

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance. 

Killing targets? Easy! 

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done! 

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple. 

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to. 

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves. 

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below. 

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk. 

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit. 

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach. 

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees. 

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky. 

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.” 

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say. 

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones. 

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head. 

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day. 

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around. 

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him. 

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers. 

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement. 

“What?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast. 

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder. 

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him. 

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

---------------------------------------

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in. 

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room. 

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice. 

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room. 

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway. 

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table. 

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.  

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body. 

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind. 

---------------------------------------

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side. 

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you. 

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin. 

You blend right in to everyone around you. 

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour. 

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold. 

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge. 

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman. 

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes. 

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino. 

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips. 

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally. 

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino. 

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him. 

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him. 

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting. 

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low. 

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering. 

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl. 

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle. 

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes. 

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie. 

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin. 

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath. 

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis. 

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap. 

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”  

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor. 

---------------------------------------

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head. 

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room. 

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear. 

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth. 

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum. 

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?” 

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker. 

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice. 

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in. 

---------------------------------------

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down. 

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath. 

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes. 

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over. 

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door. 

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear. 

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him. 

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise. 

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear. 

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle. 

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly. 

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder. 

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs. 

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot. 

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum. 

Oh my god, no, fuck, please. 

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings. 

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded. 

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it. 

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately. 

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer. 

“My room is up here, honey.” 

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away. 

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground. 

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner. 

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh. 

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head. 

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn. 

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too. 

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly. 

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you. 

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out. 

Your heart drops. 

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room. 

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe. 

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly. 

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled. 

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon? 

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second. 

You pull your own trigger. 

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head. 

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors. 

Empty. 

It’s empty. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear. 

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic. 

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room? 

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses. 

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open. 

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained. 

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle. 

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing. 

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap. 

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice. 

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more. 

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth. 

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot? 

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help. 

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock. 

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead. 

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert. 

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps. 

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders. 

He’s okay. 

Jisung is okay. 

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified. 

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling. 

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh? 

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction. 

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists. 

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow. 

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet. 

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie. 

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back. 

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more. 

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand. 

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed. 

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again. 

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed. 

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them. 

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung. 

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes. 

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad. 

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips. 

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more. 

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him. 

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck. 

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat. 

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane. 

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin. 

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline. 

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch. 

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad. 

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it. 

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats. 

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips. 

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent. 

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. 

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath. 

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up. 

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words. 

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent. 

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes. 

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount. 

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.” 

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty? 

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly. 

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground. 

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one. 

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs. 

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing. 

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously. 

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air. 

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite. 

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around. 

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet. 

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere. 

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed. 

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed. 

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs. 

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. 

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out. 

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more. 

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again. 

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours. 

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits. 

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts. 

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry. 

He groans and falls into your chest. 

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity. 

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another. 

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair. 

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not. 

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

---------------------------------------

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer. 

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

[sgiandubh]

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

[karl-jensen]

Henry and the Great Western Fiasco, 1919

This drawing that I made on December of last year was based on Henry's old shape and who built him. To pair up with the drawing, I also made a headcanon concerning Henry's old shape and who built him and it just so happens to be related to a failed Pacific locomotive that a certain railway experimented on.

H E A D C A N O N T I M E .

The Great Bear

Our story begins in 1908 in Swindon Works when Chief Engineer George Jackson Churchward designed an experimental engine that can haul passenger and freight trains. This came in the form of Number 111, also known as The Great Bear. The engine turned out to be a failure due to some issues with its boiler, which resulted in the engine being converted into a Castle-class Locomotive in January 1924. Churchward was distraught at his optimistic ambition being turned into a failure, but when he had heard news that Scottish-born Chief Engineer Sir Nigel Gresley was going to design a Pacific Express Locomotive, he remarked with "What did that young man want to build it for? We could have sold him ours!"

Churchward vs. Gresley

Illustrations of Henry's old shape in the Railway Series featured a brass-tip on his funnel which was common on locomotives of the Great Western Railway meaning that the original illustrator Reginald Payne associated Great Bear to Henry. Hints are present as to why I made Henry a Great Western engine.

Seeing a brass-tipped funnel on Henry looked very odd to me. Doesn't it remind you of the Great Western Railway?

During the design process of the now famous A1 Pacifics of the London and North Eastern Railway, an unknown engineer sent out thieves to steal plans for Gresley's express locomotives. People say that the engineer was old Mr. Churchward who still could not recover from the failure of his experimental Pacific. A Blueprint was stolen, but it wasn't the latest design that Gresley had drawn up, but an earlier design that he drew up in 1915 when the Great War was at full swing. The drawing had a boiler that was quite small which made Gresley think about the consequences. However, a certain Swindon Engineer decided to build it to satisfy his needs. That man was George Jackson Churchward.

And so, the engine was built under the orders of Mr. Churchward. He had placed William Stanier as the technical advisor of his latest Pacific project. Stanier recommended that he redesign the engine and add a larger firebox, but due to Churchward's decisions it didn't happen. The engine was finally built in 1919 and was given a name - and that is Vanguard. However, Factory Workers would often call the engine Henry.

When Henry rolled out of the factory, he was given a nice healthy batch of Welsh Coal for testing. Great Bear wasn't pleased when Henry rolled out and thought that he'll outperform him. When the first trial run came, Henry was steaming properly while pulling a heavy train consisting of twelve coaches jam-packed with passengers. Great Bear envied him, but when Henry was put into regular passenger service, the same problems from Great Bear finally showed up when he was given a batch of regular coal. With this, Henry was deemed a failure and was planned for scrapping. However, when a Railway Director was buying a locomotive (specifically a 4-4-2 Atlantic), he received a Pacific-type locomotive in the form of Henry. His remarks were quite enraged and profanity-filled.

"I wanted an Atlantic. But that stupid, son of a bitch gave me that instead!"

— Sir Topham Hatt I, 1922

Henry was planned to be scrapped indeed, but when the Director saw Henry's sad expression, he had no choice but to give him a chance. The rest is history.

Mr. Stanier's Chance

After Henry's infamous crash with the Flying Kipper in January 1935. He was sent to Crewe Works to be rebuilt entirely. The engine was skeptical until he met a familiar face that he had seen years ago back when he was in Swindon.

"When I first met Henry at Crewe, I was very surprised to see him in such a beaten-up state. I had intentions in redesigning him prior to being built, but that impatient old man [Churchward] did not listen. Seeing him like this made me want to redesign him entirely, but would cost me plenty of money to create a new boiler and frame for him, as well as a new tender. Instead, I went for the cheaper alternative and turned him into a Black 5 instead of what was supposed to be a 'prototype' for the Coronation class."

— Sir William Stanier, 1948 Interview

Sir Topham Hatt did not have enough money to completely convert Henry into a Princess Royal or redesign him entirely. Instead, he decided to turn Henry into a Ten Wheeler. His smokebox and front wheels remained, but the trailing wheels were discarded. Everything else were parts from the Black 5, including his Tender.

"Being rebuilt entirely was a huge blessing for me, and many people sent me 'Get Well Soon' cards and flowers while I was at Crewe. My smokebox and wheels were retained while many of my old parts were scrapped or perhaps reused as spares. I now felt better after that fix up at Crewe, and I managed to share stories with Mr. Stanier, whom I first met in Swindon when I was in my old shape."

— Henry, 1963 Interview

During his rebuild, he met several Princess Royals that were being maintained. Mr. Stanier explained to him that he was the inspiration into building a Pacific locomotive.

"Seeing those beautiful engines made me want to cry, since they told me that I was the inspiration for their design. The Princess Royals were meant to be the success that Mr. Churchward wanted, but failed to achieve. I do envy him and wished that he had the patience to make his dream come true. Great Bear would have seen those beauties."

— Henry, 1963 Interview

The rest is history...

And as for the laconic version or the TLDR:

Henry was designed by George Jackson Churchward as a second attempt for a Pacific Locomotive for the Great Western Railway.

[violetasteracademic]

Hi , I want to ask if you think Lucien was always meant to have a rejected mating bond with an Archeron sister ?

Hello lovely anon!

So.... this is a tough question to answer- because where does always begin in the writing process?

Does it begin in the first draft? Does it begin in the wild prophetic visions you have at three am that you want to scribble down but you don't because you are trying to sleep, but still, it lingers? Does it begin in a beat sheet, a plot outline, a Pinterest board?

I'm not sure if SJM always intended a rejected mating bond. To be completely honest, I go back and forth. I think that Sarah has let a lot of things slip that she wrote that were never going to even be submitted to her editor on a first draft (like the famed Nesta/Cassian/Azriel batwich, RIP and I'm still waiting on SJM to write a threesome). And yet when she shares those things, people almost consider it canon and analyze it to death and use it to prove certain things. At some point, she probably really genuinely considered making Lucien and one of the sisters a couple, but I can't say for sure where in the process that died.

I remember seeing Emily Henry share on her stories recently an addition to her "RIP" character list- as in characters that she had written that literally did not even make it into the book. The first draft of Beach Read was actually a love triangle, involving some local guy who owns an ice cream business or something of the sort who is also trying to romance January. I can see what she might have been trying to do there- give January two options reflecting two sides of her. Ice Cream Steve (not sure if those details are correct but we'll go with it) would have served as a perfect foil to Grave Digging, Bleak Literary Fiction Author Gus. But ultimately, Ice Cream Steve did not even make it to the book. Do we treat him as real? Do we wonder if he may have been a better fit for January? Do we analyze what this means for January and Gus?

I'll get a little bit into the technicality of what developmental editing is and how it can completely reshape a story, erase characters, create characters, and shift their storylines, but what I do know is this- the function of Lucien being assigned an Archeron sister, any Archeron sister, is completely clear: To win him over to the Night Court as an ally and embolden him to help Feyre get away from Tamlin. This is absolutely critical. Lucien's role in the story since this hasn't developed romantically because he is mated to one of the Archeron sisters, it has spun off in a new direction plot wise with the Band of Exiles, Vassa, Koschei, and the human queens- which also develops a tentative relationship between himself and his brother Eris again, with his mating bond hovering in the background. However, his mating bond began this new direction, and it wouldn't have existed without it:

Lucien would not have left if it were not for the mating bond. I believe that is the element that was always true. Lucien's mating bond, be it with Elain, or Nesta as originally planned, was always going to be a plot device. And I can answer where I believe the story of a love triangle at the very least began its groundwork- which is A Court of Mist and Fury. I personally think that as of publishing ACOMAF Lucien and Elain were already done, fizzling out in the developmental editing process, and Azriel and Elain were endgame, but I'm open to those who see it differently.

Before we move on, here are the different types of editors:

A development editor basically edits the story at large. They focus on elements like theme, character development, plot holes, ECT. When dealing with a series, often times an author will provide a detailed packet to their developmental editor before doing dev runs. This is because the developmental editor needs to understand where the story is headed. They need to understand what needs to be appropriately foreshadowed, what themes to highlight, and keep their eye on the big picture so that everything comes to a well developed, emotionally charged, and thematically satisfying conlcusion.

What is clear to me is that Azriel and Elain were being developed emotionally and thematically in ACOMAF:

These are the types of passages that focus on the big picture. Before Feyre's sisters have become Fae, Feyre is musing on what her sisters would be like in Velaris. She thinks about how Nesta would like it, despite herself, and become fast friends with Amren (true) and how Elain would like Velaris, but she would cling to Azriel for peace and quiet. True. Feyre considers how handsome Elain and Azriel would be together if he ever stopped loving Mor.

Developmentally- what is the purpose of this? It's the same book that Lucien and Elain's mating bond is revealed, so why muse on Elain and Azriel as a couple if Azriel could get over Mor, which he now has because of Elain? Meanwhile, Elain is engaged. Feyre doesn't say a word about that. She sees how her sister would want to be with someone like Azriel, and Feyre doesn't even think twice about Graysen because Azriel is right for her sister. This isn't Feyre being an unreliable narrator. Everything else in this passage came to be true.

These are the types of moments developmental editors hone in on to make sure theme and foreshadowing are strong and successful.

Of course this is already after the beautiful moments Azriel and Elain have together- Azriel getting shy and self conscious before dropping one of the most beautiful lines in all the books about being born hearing the song of the wind. Elain already being able to read Azriel- looking to him and smiling and finding comfort and assessing his countenance to see if everything is going okay.

If I'm a developmental editor, and I wanted it to be really clear why Lucien and Elain were right for each other- why would I keep all of this in? Why tie Elain and Azriel together thematically and emotionally? So again, this is where the question "where does always begin" comes into play. Did SJM realize in her first draft that Nesta and Lucien weren't going to work, so she switched to Elain, only to realize that Elain and Lucien don't have chemistry either? Was it after a developmental edit? I can't say for sure on that end. Maybe ACOMAF truly was just setting up a love triangle, but personally I think Elain and Az were always endgame as of the books being published, and trying to explore Elain and Lucien as a couple probably died out before the final draft of ACOMAF and SJM realized Lucien still needed to be mated to one of the sisters, thus ideas about the rejected mating bond started stirring instead and then were hit HARD in ACOWAR. I can see the argument that the door was being kept open for Lucien in ACOMAF, though I personally think Lucien's mating bond reveal was strictly a plot device. But what is extremely clear is that as of ACOWAR the path was set in stone.

Again- these are the things where, not to take credit away from Sarah, a developmental editor really comes into play. If Sarah is going, okay- who is Lucien going to end up with? Nesta? No, it can't be Nesta, even though that was originally the plan. Elain? Maybe, it could be Elain. What does that look like? Maybe it was Lucien and Elain in the pitch packet. Then a developmental editor goes, okay- where are we headed? What are the themes? What are the character arcs and growth we are looking for?

Then we move on to ACOWAR, and both of them were developed to have a theme of choice threaded into their interactions:

What these moments make clear is that the mating bond makes it impossible for Elain and Lucien to get what they truly want out of love with each other- for someone to love and choose them beyond the circumstances placed on them. Lucien wants this just as much as Elain does. They are now thematically connected in that way- in wanting to be chosen above all, despite everything. That's where this Facebook comment makes soooo much sense:

Nesta didn't have any growth or healing to offer Lucien, because thematically there was not really anything there between them. Nesta and Cassian also had this instant, intense connection that could not be ignored or played slowly. Nesta also didn't lose her fiance, she herself saying she had as little at stake in Velaris as she did on the other side of the wall. Nesta had anger and resentment. Elain had loss, which on the surface could thematically match Lucien, but then we dig deeper to learn that they aren't only needing to heal from the loss of love, they are needing to heal from the loss of choice.

Elain was engaged to a man who hates fae. And Elain was always going to become Fae.

Lucien had his history and story with Jesminda since book one. He thought Jesminda was his mate. The woman who loved him for him, not because he was a High Lord's son or because of any other High Fae customs Lucien rejects. This is where you see the development. Lucien and Elain could have worked on an incredibly surface level, both of them having lost their first loves, but deeper themes revealed themselves that showed they mirror each other in a way that doesn't make them right for each other, but that allows them to face what needs to be faced: being strong and brave enough to choose for themselves instead of letting the world control them.

For Elain and Lucien to have made sense together thematically, everything should have been reversed. Elain should have been mated to Azriel, and then Elain and Lucien should have met somehow and fallen in love, and the choosing each other above all, love trumping even a mating bond, Lucien being chosen and loved without question, without hesitation, would have belonged to them.

But again, without the mating bond, Lucien and Elain wouldn't even have met in the first place and Lucien would not have left Spring. So where does that leave us? The mating bond as a plot device. It was literally required to move the story forward, but thematically is anticlimactic for both parties in terms of the kind of love they want for themselves.

So- was Lucien always going to have a mating bond rejection? Probably not. But where in the years long process did all of this reveal itself? Only Sarah knows that. But I think what is quite clear is that it was always going to happen if we start from what is published in the books between him and Elain.

I think it's very possible that SJM did really intend for Lucien to wind up with one of the sisters. But if you've ever gone through the writing process yourself, you realize pretty quickly how many things fall apart and don't work/make sense/are actually anti-thematic to the characters you've created. Maybe she'll tell us one day exactly when Elain and Lucien fell apart, just like Nesta and Lucien fell apart. But we do have to keep in mind that an author like SJM, who was able to sell a trilogy all at once, probably had to have at least a 25 page packet outlining the trilogy and it's development. So- was it Nesta and Lucien in the pitch packet? Was it Elain and Lucien, because even while structuring a pitch she realized Nesta and Lucien would never work while outlining, but thought Elain and Lucien would? Only to discover Elain and Azriel connecting while drafting ACOMAF?

Writing a book is years of plotting, outlining, writing, rewriting, editing, writing again, and sometimes what you come up with is unrecognizable from the plan. And considering SJM contracted a trilogy, she would have pitched in pretty significant detail what would happen in book two and book three. We'll see what Sarah does and does not choose to reveal!

I think that's everything! I love getting these questions from you guys. I still have a cue in my inbox, and I am sorry it's kind of random when my inspiration strikes and I have a clear answer and can quickly think of the passages and ideas! But I will try to get to my older ones that have been sitting for a minute, I promise!

What do you guys think? I know everyone has different thoughts on this and I love to hear them!

[myrquez]

Do you know what's dovquez relationship like currently? Ik marc has said (in preseason maybe?) that he wants to ride with dovi and they have a good relationship(but idk where is this from) also i saw a post where dovi said that he and marc have a "special" relationship but they aren't friends and he regrets it(in his book maybe) or maybe i'm hallucinating ( sorry i'm new to this)

HI AND WELCOME TO THIS WHOLE MADNESS ANON

Don’t worry, I got you!! This will be LONG but I hope it’s also gonna be helpful if you want to “dig” into their lore a bit more!!!

As for the two episodes you mentioned, first one was in the Gresini Team Presentation on January 20th in Riccione, and if you want to watch the whole thing its here!! They did ask Marc if he had any plans to go training in some of the motocross tracks in Romagna, like the 04 Park, while he was there. And Marc said that just that morning he thought something like, “Im gonna call him and ask him if he’s busy?”, but then he basically had no time so he couldn’t actually go. And then he said something like “I would still like it very much, especially to go riding around Dovizioso’s track, whom I have a beautiful relationship with!”. And then we all cried. (me, i cried)

As for the book! Yes, he did say that he would’ve liked to have relationships and connections with other riders in general, because there’s not many people in the world that have the privilege to share their same experiences. He spoke a lot about how the relationships work in the paddock, which he describes as a shark tank basically (literally says minefield). And he said it’s a shame he basically had no friends within the motogp environment, but it’s how it works, because in that world everything it’s about money and feral competition. About Marc (the book was published in 2018 if i’m not wrong, so as for their relationship in 2018 at least) he said they’ weren’t technically friends, but they thought highly of each other, respected each other, smiled to each other when one saw the other one! He spoke a lot about how the connection grew stronger in each one of their battle. How at the end of every race he felt like they just climbed a mountain and they arrived right at the peak together. “The connection has deepened. The relationship was preserved”. It’s one of my fave part of the book, maybe I’ll try to translate the whole thing!

And finally!, as for their current relationship, I’d say it’s still… very good? Dovi was in Mugello this year, and he had this beautiful interview with SkySport Italia where he praised Marc for his outstanding work. If you want to watch it, it’s here! He never stops showering that little menace with compliments. He cannot help it.

Apart from this, no new crumbs? FOR NOW!! Motogp will be in Misano for a few weeks since Kazakhstan got cancelled, so we basically have 1st race in Misano, Misano tests and THEN 2nd race in Misano again which means pleeeenty of time to go and have a bit of fun at the 04 Park i guess <3 manifesting this so hard anon

If you feel the need to have some more lore to dig and stuff, here there’s a beautiful post with some fun facts AND a list of people on the motogpblr that basically are the Dovquez scholars, so there you will find everything you need to know and even more. Have fun!!! <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Shut In (Eyeless Jack x reader oneshot!)

Basic plot: its really cold outside, and you urge Jack to stay in your home with you... he decides to stay despite knowing full well that he will be fine out in the freezing temperatures. You both decide to do things to pass the time and stay warm! Turns out Jack can make a mean cup of hot coco, too

Extra notes: I dont usually write fanfics, and the last one I've written was a personal one from late August... so to say I'm rusty and underexperienced is an understatement! I feel this one ended up a little.. weirdly paced imo but I think I'm still happy with the end result! Dialogue I feel I could have done better on but I'm going to be nice to myself since I mostly write hc posts so this is way out of my comfort zone.. Drafted on Tumblr then sent through google docs to pick up on some mistakes I missed, briefly reread no proper proof reading imo... lets hope this isnt a train wreck + it copied back to tumblr okay!! LMAO

Brief joke about pregnancy/making a pregnancy but its like one small snippet but I know that can make people uncomfortable + implies at least one of the characters is AFAB

Word Count: 2915

Extra Admin's note: I want to say again that I am so so happy about this blog hitting 1k followers, when I first started this blog I was originally going to use it to burn time and have something to do on the side, as well as having a place to put out my cringe ideas and hcs. I never thought this many people would be interested in my dumb thoughts, but here we are! I intend to keep writing this year, and perhaps even make more non-celebratory one shots this year? Maybe? I don't know I guess we'll see the reception on this fic!

It was the middle of the night, around the middle of January. Your boyfriend and you were holed up inside your apartment, you having locked the man up with you after seeing that it was below freezing out, as well as raining. You had to practically beg your boyfriend to stay with you for the night.

Your boyfriend, who also just so happened to be a man eating demon with tar dripping out of his hollowed out eye sockets. Your boyfriend, who was currently sitting still and staring forward, the only sound in the apartment coming from the dripping of your faucet. You had asked him to come visit you, it'd been a while... and he would never ever let you go to his cabin when it's this cold out. So here you both were now.

You pat the palms of your hands on your knees, sucking in one of your cheeks and working the flesh through your jaws for a moment. You were both technically stuck in the apartment now; you didn't want Jack to go out and risk getting sick, and Jack more than likely wouldn't want you to step out for the same reasons. So, you were both confined to what you already had within the space. You were about to open your mouth to speak but Jack broke the silence first. "You're shivering, do you want me to get some blankets?", blunt and almost robotic. He was never that expressive. "Or would you like to go to your room?" He added after a brief pause, his fangs poking just over his lip before he readjusted his mouth. You were both in the living room, sitting together on the couch; the front door to your left and a view of the kitchen to the right. You thought for a minute as your eyes lingered on the kitchen for a moment. You'd already eaten, before your partner arrived... but..

"That's fine, I'm probably going to make some hot coco," You pulled yourself up, stretching up. "Powdered stuff ooor..?" Jack mimicked you. You only shook your head, earning a disapproving look from him. "What?" You questioned, but he only dismissed you. "Why don't you get some blankets, I'll handle it," and he turned on his heel to make his way to the kitchen. "Maybe put on a movie, too, your choice." He added as his voice carried off. "Are you saying I can't cook?" You called back, following after him. No answer as he tugged out a pot. "I'll have you know-" you started once more

"Do you have half and half?" He was already opening your pantry to grab things.

"No, I don't,"

"Heavy cream? Whipping cream? Whatever it's called..." He mumbled as he placed various ingredients on the counter. Cocoa powder, vanilla, salt and sugar. You only nodded, and as he was about to begin working he paused. "Do you want anything else in it? Cinnamon? Nutmeg?" He paused and through gritted teeth, "Coffee?"

It was almost midnight, of course he would be opposed to you having caffeine so late.

"Cinnamon is fine," You watched him get to work. He measured everything out; even mixing the heavy cream with some milk to make a substitute for half and half.... was that really all it was? You weren't sure what you expected it to be, if it weren't..

He pulled his head up and stared at you. It was then that you noticed he had actually taken his mask off and set it at the end of the counter and out of the way. The black ooze dripping from his eyes was slow and posed little threat to dripping into your drink. He had a fistful of napkins on standby to dap his face dry should the flow quicken. "Aren't you going to get the blankets?"

You pat your hands on your thighs, pausing... watching him. His body had a warm glow on him from the old light bulb in the ceiling; it flickered every now and then. Under the yellowed light he almost looked healthy and alive, though there was no glint where his eyes should have been. His sharp nail tapping on the counter brought you back to the moment, blinking a few times. "Yeah.." you mumbled, defeated at the chance of making a drink for yourself stolen from you. But was that so bad?

You backed out of the kitchen, dragging your feet across the floor. Your apartment was.. a little on the smaller side so within a few steps you were in front of your bedroom door. You didn't really pay much attention to your surroundings as you shuffled through the blankets on the bed.. eventually you settled on just grabbing an arm full and waddling back to the living room, dumping everything you had grabbed onto the couch.

The house smelled of cinnamon and chocolate.. with a hint of vanilla.

Turning your gaze to the tv, your eyes scanned across the DVDs you had stacked messily. Nothing sounded good. "Is there anything you want specifically?" You called out as you settled yourself down criss cross in front of the tv and pulling all the cases onto the floor next to you. "Movie wise," You added as you pulled the first case into your hands. The DVD collection for Child's Play.. you had gotten it a few weeks ago, finding it on sale at your local store. You still hadn't popped it in to watch..

"I have.. Chucky, uhm..." You shuffled for the next case. "All the movies by the way.. I have that and.. most of the Friday the 13th movies," You called out. No answer, the only sound coming from the kitchen was the noise of a whisk gently being stirred. "I don't have Jason goes to hell... But!" You pulled out a third case with the Nightmare on Elm Street DVDs. "I DO have Freddy vs Jason," You mumbled and spread the three disks on the floor in front of you. Most of the disks you had, you noticed, were mostly older slasher movies. Still, Jack hadn't answered you. You pull yourself to your feet and trudge back into the kitchen. His back was to you, too preoccupied with the stove... He hadn't noticed you, not yet. An idea blossomed in your head, a smirk pulling itself across your lips. You steeled yourself, trying to force yourself to stop shivering.. Jack was always paying attention to his surroundings, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

You take a step forward and he still doesn't notice your approach.

Another step.

And another.

Jack wasn't the tallest, in fact if you wanted to you could rest your chin on his shoulder... and that's what you ended up doing, while wrapping your arms around his thick waist. You could feel his body seize up just a little bit against you, before relaxing. "You didn't answer, what sounds good?" You pulled your eyes down to look at the pot. Your drink was nearly finished. You view rocked as your boyfriend shrugged, still silent but the twitching of his pointed ears let you know he was listening.

"Anything's fine," Another shrug as he cuts the heat. "You're the one cooking for me, you get to pick the movie," You insisted. He paused mid-whisk, letting out a soft huff. Suddenly he spun around, his face just a few inches from yours. In the dimmed light his eye sockets seemed deeper, it's black ooze lazily dripping down his cheeks. You noticed the smudges on his face, from wiping the streaks. You briefly wondered what it was like to sleep with them, but your thoughts were cut short as he pulled a blackened and clawed hand to your hair; tucking a lock behind your ear. "How does...." He paused, sucking in his teeth. He looked almost embarrassed. "Bride of Chucky sound?"

"What? Want to study the characters again so we can dress up again this year for Halloween?" You tease. You had convinced him a few months ago to dress up with you. With him as Chucky, and you as Tiffany... It had taken some begging and convincing but you ultimately got him to agree. Although you didn't go out to get candy, you were both fine with staying inside watching movies together in costume. It was also that night you got him to watch the movies..

His ears darkened, before he scoffed. "No... actually this year I was thinking of..." He took a long pause, visibly scraping his brain for names of characters, before seemingly giving up. "Look I don't watch many movies I don't know any.. characters.." He grimaced, before gently pushing you off of him so he could turn his attention back to the hot cocoa. "We've still got nine months, more than enough time to come up with something..." You shrugged, then smirked. "Not enough time to make a Glen... or Glenda," You teased before turning on your heel. You held back a snicker as you heard Jack splutter, finally processing what you had just said to him.

"W-"

"I'm gonna go ahead and put in the disc, I'll leave it paused for you," You cut him off, still grinning to yourself as you kneeled down to do as you had said.

Soon enough Jack walked into the room with a mug, as well as a platter of cookies. "You didn't have to," You mumbled as you eyed the treats, but he only waved you off as he placed the plate and mug onto the coffee table. "You don't have to eat them, but I figured you might want a snack while watching the movie," He mumbled. You took the mug, and swirled the drink inside of it. "I hope I didn't put in too much cinnamon," Jack added as he watched you. He leaned over and started the movie.

You took a sip, smiling a little as the warmness crept in. "You did good, probably the best hot cocoa I've ever had." You offered a grin to him. "That has got to be the fakest compliment I've ever heard," Jack shot back, though you could see the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry! I believe this is the most decadent and satisfying beverage I've had ever been graced with in my life, and-" You began, only for Jack to hush you. "I'd rather you throw it on me, don't... say words like that again," He grumbled as readjusted himself into the couch. You took a sip and shrugged, "It's just absolutely immaculate," and he lightly smacked you on the arm. "I'm never making anything for you again," He snorted, before turning his attention to the movie.

You weren't going to lie, you felt a little bad treating yourself to the cookies, knowing Jack was unable to eat them without upsetting his stomach. Being a man-eating monster must really be hard. You purse your lips, and shoot a look at him from the corner of your eye. He must have been doing the same, because he turned his head to look at you. "Do you want to do something else?" He asked lightly, his grin from a few minutes ago already faded. "Do you ever miss eating.. food?" You asked before you could stop yourself. He didn't bother pausing the movie, instead he just fell silent and stared down, into the space between the two of you on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, I know it's a touchy subject for you," You mumbled and put the mug on the table. You sucked in the air between your teeth, flicking your eyes up to the movie, before bringing them back down to your lap. It stayed like that for a minute before Jack broke the silence. "I mean... yeah, I do. But at least I don't have to eat every day like you do, means I can have more time to do what I want," He said. Clearly, he was still bothered, tip-toeing around the big.. thing about him. The air was still tense and thick, all of the previous joking gone now. It was nearly unbearable. Nearly.

"You know," Jack began after a few more seconds of silence when you didn't reply. "I've never tried cinnamon in hot cocoa, I didn't know that was a thing people did," He was changing the subject. "You haven't?" You asked, raising a brow. He eyed your mug, but you both knew there was no way he was going to take a sip.

"It's really good," You mumbled, and took the drink, "The combo, I mean," You added. He hummed, patting his knees lightly. You swirled the drink again, watching the... what was it called? Those lighter swirls in the drink.. Did that have a name?

"You've had hot cocoa before, right?" You asked. He hummed again, nodding his head. "Well.. the cinnamon makes it warm. Taste wise.. It makes it.." You took a sip and thought for a minute. "Richer, I guess? It's hard to explain," You muttered, then looked back at him. You tore your eyes back down when you saw he was looking right at you, totally hooked onto your words. "I hear nutmeg goes good in it, too.. but I've only tried nutmeg and chocolate together in baked goods," You shrugged. "You did really good with this, you know... not too much cinnamon.. not spicy, at least." You smiled. He nodded, before turning back to the movie.

"Woody, I hear people describe cinnamon like that," He leaned back into the couch, a dull pop came from his back.

"Woody," You repeated, then took a large sip of the hot cocoa. You put the mug down onto the table, and leaned into your boyfriend as the warmth crept and settled into your bones. You weren't even paying attention to the movie, your mind was now occupied with how tired you were. Your eyes slipped up to the clock on the wall, It was nearly one in the morning. Had it only been an hour since Jack walked himself into the kitchen?

You lean deeper into Jack, not caring about his body's natural chill. His clothing still smelled a little like the cocoa from earlier.. "Gotta invest in some cologne, you smell nice like this," You mumbled into his arm. "The cinnamon?" He asked, not looking down at you. "No.. the cocoa, I mean cinnamon would be a nice touch... but you don't seem like a sweet smelling guy, do you?" You muttered. "Are you already getting tired?" Jack asked, and he leaned over you to grab the remote, pausing the movie. You muttered, the heat of the hot cocoa doing way more than you expected on the tiredness you didn't notice you had. "A little," You shrugged, "But we can still try to finish the movie," You offered, but he shook his head. Of course he would, as much of a hard ass or party pooper he came off as, he was going to make sure you were going to get your rest.

You put your hand in his, the one that had the remote.. you unpaused the movie. He paused it, and you unpaused it again. It kind of kept up like this before Jack conceited and kept it playing, although he did lower the volume.. The subtitles were already on, though. "I win," You smirked up at him, before crawling into his lap. You placed your head on his chest, pausing when you felt him stiffen before relaxing against you. His heart beat for a moment before settling to its barely there rhythm. For a minute you thought about asking about his heart, as far as you knew he explained himself like he was becoming a walking corpse... how does that work?

You decided against it, you already asked about him earlier.. and besides, your mind was already beginning to blank as Jack reached to the side of the couch, and turned the lamp off.. It was dark now. It was still raining, you could more clearly hear the drops outside now that the movie was turned down. Plus, Jack was running his fingers through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp. It wouldn't be long until you finally gave in and fell asleep.

"Are you going to still be here in the morning?" You asked, melting into his chest as he hummed in response. "Plan on it, I still need to clean up the kitchen," He added as he curled your hair around his hand. "It'll still be cold in the morning," He added, "I need to make sure you bundle up before you go out for work," He added. "I'm not that dumb," You muttered and lightly slapped his arm. You swear, if he still had his eyes he would have rolled them.

"How do you see? I know you're not.. a normal person, but," You blurted out, lifting your head. He pushed your face back down, shushing you. "Sleep," He ordered, before loosening his hold on you a bit so you could get comfortable. It wasn't an order but it may as well have been with how your body started to loosen into him within the next few minutes, quickly snuffling out your curiosity and questions.

He'd still be here in the morning, you could pester him then. After all, it's what he signed up for when the two of you started to date one another..

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 23: Frost

Word Count: 1719 Rating: General Summary: You and Din wake up one morning to discover the volcanic planet you call home has been plunged into a deep frost. You are awestruck by the gleaming ground and the icy crystals that cling to every surface. You and Din decide to head out for a walk with Grogu, who is fascinated by the way his favourite pond has frozen over. Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: Poor Grogu. I keep making him suffer, I promise I love him! He's just a funny little green gremlin. The last two entries will tie pretty closely to this one but wow, can't believe it's almost over. I've had so much fun writing this series and I'll miss it, but there are some ideas in here I'll expand on come January!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

Despite the lava flats dotted throughout its surface and the fact that it was technically a volcanic planet, Nevarro was not always sweltering and had different seasons. Throughout the year, it rarely rained; the climate remained mild throughout most of the year, but the temperature would drop towards the end of the year, particularly around Life Day. Although there was lava to be found on Nevarro, it was nothing compared to a planet like Mustafar, a volcanic hellscape. The entire planet was an angry red thanks to the lava that boiled on its surface. Surely it was a blisteringly hot, punishing environment. You had never been, but the planet was legendary, known throughout the galaxy.

There was an expression you had heard used often since childhood. When something was unlikely to happen, people would laugh and say: “Mustafar will freeze over first.” It was an amusing expression as obviously the thought of a planet as sweltering as Mustafar freezing over was ludicrous. Similarly, the thought of Nevarro freezing over was an idea that you thought equally ludicrous until, one morning, when you woke up to an empty cot and Din calling your name. You swung your legs over the side of the cot, wiping your bleary eyes with the back of your hand as you blinked rapidly to adjust to the light. There was a certain stillness and quietness; the light that filtered in was weak and pale. It appeared to be early morning. You and Din did not have plans and you had planned for a relaxing day, you wondered what had roused him from bed so early. 

Din was standing by the window in the main room of your little cabin, still clad in the cotton clothes he slept in with a curious look on his face. There was something out there that was clearly capturing his attention . As you made your way across the room to discover what it was, you wondered what he was captivated by. As soon as you moved to stand next to him, though, you understood perfectly. 

The usually ashen, grey-brown surface of the volcanic planet you called home had turned white. Every surface was glistening, reflecting the low sun in the sky. By some festive miracle, the entire planet was covered in what appeared to be a deep frost. You had never seen anything like it for all the time you lived here. You had encountered snow before, but frost was something different, the way the ice clung to every inch of the planet, the little icicles gleaming as they coated the plants by the pond just in front of the cabin. The pond itself had frozen, creating a pristine, glassy surface that you had a strange desire to skate across, even though you had no idea how deep it was. Besides, it had been years since you had ice skated. The rocks at the frozen pond’s edge looked like some precious jewel, the way they sparkled as you turned your head to take in the sights.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Din finally asked, breaking the awe-struck silence that the two of you had fallen into, utterly mesmerised by the frozen surface of the planet before you.

“I’ve never seen anything like this on Nevarro before,” You agreed, nodding in wonderment. 

“No, I wonder what caused weather like this,” Din pondered. “I don’t think this is normal.”

“It’s a miracle!” You exclaimed. “Just in time for Life Day, too,” You added, referring to the rapidly approaching holiday

Din looked around at you, raising an eyebrow, the corners of his lips pulled down into a slight frown. His eyes were shimmering in mirth though… you knew there was no genuine disapproval there. You conceded that perhaps your enthusiasm had been a step slightly too far for him. Considering Din had limited experience of the season’s traditions before he met you, he approached the traditions you introduced him to with as much enthusiasm as someone who had celebrated Life Day all their life. But you still got the sense that Din did not entirely share all of your festive merriment, so sometimes you liked to be a little cheesy to get underneath his skin. 

“We should go for a walk,” Din suggested, “After Grogu is awake and we’ve eaten, we should appreciate this frost while it’s here.”

“Sounds great, Din,” You sighed. 

You went to the fresher to prepare for the day while Din woke Grogu up and did the same. Din had already been to the kitchen and brewed a much-needed pot of caf, which you gratefully helped yourself to, given the early start to your day. You then placed some bowls, milk and cereal on the table in preparation for a simple family breakfast that would fuel you for the long frosty walk.

Din and Grogu eventually made their entrance. Din had dressed in his beskar’gam, save for his helmet. Grogu was clad in the red snow suit that Din had purchased before your little getaway in the snowy mountains. The garment was coming in surprisingly handy now as it would keep the little boy warm from the cold outside. 

The three of you enjoyed your breakfast together; you and Din continued discussing how surprised you were at the remarkable frost and memories of such frozen conditions at other times in your life. After cleaning away the dishes, it was time to head out on the walk. You laced up your boots in the hallway and pulled on the red coat that you had had such a stressful time finding, but were now delighted with. It fit you perfectly and matched Grogu’s red snowsuit. You were ready to head out.

“Are you warm enough?” You asked Din, wondering how warm his armour really kept him.

“Yes thank you, cyare,” Din nodded, his helmet now resting on his head. “The flightsuit can be insulating or cooling depending on the temperature, and my helmet is climate controlled,” Din explained.

You nodded, he had probably informed you of such functions before but this time, you had an ulterior motive for such a line of questioning. You just had one little addition to Din’s outfit though. You smirked as you grabbed the red scarf that you had bought for him from a local tailor on your snowy vacation to the moutains. You and Grogu were wrapped up from the elements in red items of clothing, so it only seemed proper that Din joined you. You put the scarf around Din’s neck, tying it gently and smiling as you stepped back to admire your handiwork.

“Much better,” You nodded. “Now we’re all matching.”

Din scoffed and shook his head. Then he grabbed your hand, holding Grogu in his other arm. The three of you headed out into the frosty winter wonderland. You delighted in the sound of the frost crunching underneath your boots, it was instantly comforting. It was a sound you had not heard for many years, believing that moving here to Nevarro would mean you would never experience such cold weather again. How wrong you were. Now, you had made memories in freezing temperatures in a picturesque snowy moutain village thanks to the trip Din had treated you to and, shortly after returning, there was this unseasonable frost on Nevarro.

Grogu was seemingly delighted by the freezing conditions too, his eyes wide in amazement as he took in his surroundings. You and Din had intended to go for a long walk, but you didn’t make it far before Grogu began chirping loudly. He gestured his little hands towards something. Din stopped and you looked at him questioningly. 

“The pond, perhaps he’s worried about his frogs,” Din shrugged.

“Awww, I’m sure they’re alright, little guy,” You reassured Grogu. “The surface is frozen, but they’re probably still swimming around underneath.”

Grogu nodded at your reassurances, but he continued gesturing towards the pond; clearly something was still on his mind. You and Din walked towards the edge of the pond and Din eventually placed Grogu down on one of the rocks so he could see the ice up close and watch for any of his frog friends beneath the surface. But Grogu was seemingly not satisfied to watch from afar; the mischievous little boy was soon pushing himself off the rock and making tentative steps towards the ice, before you and Din could do anything to stop him.

“Grogu!” Din exclaimed, moving towards his son as he stepped out onto the frozen surface. 

But before Din could scoop Grogu up, the child used the Force to leap into the centre of the pond, out of Din’s reach. Your heart was in your mouth as you watched him, fearing that you would soon hear the distinctive cracking noise of ice breaking. But mercifully, that did not happen. As Grogu took cautious steps across the frozen pond, his little feet were scrabbling against the icy surface and his arms were outstretched to keep him balanced. You and Din marvelled at both how cautious he was treading and how well he was maintaining his balance, given that he only had the red booties of his snowsuit on his feet, rather than any shoes made specially for ice.

“He’s a natural!” You commented in amazement at Grogu’s balance on the ice.

“He is,” Din said proudly. “We should get him some real skates.”

It seemed that you had spoken too soon. Everything was going so well, until there was a heartstopping moment where Grogu’s legs went from underneath him and he flopped down onto the ice. You waited with baited breath to see how Grogu would respond – was he hurt? But mercifully after a few moments, you heard the most wonderful sound: Grogu's laughter. It seemed that Grogu’s little tumble on the ice had not affected him too badly.

“You alright, bud?” Din asked as he leaned over to scoop Grogu up, fortunately the little boy was sufficiently close to the edge of the pond that Din could reach him.

Grogu gave a happy chirp and you reached over to stroke his cheek with the back of your fingers. You were relieved that he was alright and your walk could continue. You were eager to explore the planet that had been transformed into a frost-bitten paradise and make the most of such a rare occurrence.

With a spring in your step, you set off for a walk across the gleaming surface of Nevarro, holding hands with an equally shiny Mandalorian. Din's armour, too, was gleaming, save for the red scarf slung around his neck, a way to ensure the three members of your little Clan were matching. You sighed deeply and smiled at the sound of the frost crunching underneath your boots as you gazed around in wonderment at the deep frost.

[alternativeminiatures]

Ok, let's talk about Lost In Space.

In the early 2000's there wasn't as much 40k fanfiction as today, you had Turn Signals on a Land Raider, and... I really can't remember. But I do remember Lost In Space!

This is probably one of my favorite 40k comics, even if it only has around 50 strips and never was completed. Sadly the website was nuked on january 2006, and nowadays, it's a bit hard to find all its published content. But hey, guess what? I'm a data hoarder, and found almost all the comic on my external hard drive, and the four strips I didn't have, I found them on a russian website, in russian, but @varanguard did me the favour of translating them back to english.

So, what now? I think I'm going to put it here with tags, so people can find it; lost media is something we should take more seriously, books, videogames, series, music, etc... all human creation should have a place.

What happened to the website? I asked a friend if he remembers and he told me back then James was throwing a fit about copyright, and closed many fan content websites, so yeah, it could be the answer.

And what about the author? Ok, this is a complex subject. Technically, the last we know about the author is a post on DeviantArt where they talks about getting a copy of all the strips and wanting to publish them there, they started on september 2006, and the last one is from october 2006, there are only 11 strips, I think I have near 80 between LiS, Meanwhile and Grail Quest.

Soooo... I still wanted to know if it was ok to put the comic here, and you see, I am a very good internet sleuth, very good, so good that from a complete stranger putting funny drawings on the internets 20 years ago, now I may know their complete name, where they live, where they work, I got 4 different emails and their work telephone number*. And at this point I realized I had jumped head first without parachute into creepy territory (I blame my autism, when you focus onto something it's hard to know when to stop).

And now, contacting the author with the information I got that they didn't put out there to be contacted, to talk about something they haven't talked about for almost 20 years, feels disturbing, like crossing 30km of red lines and boundaries, and way worse than putting the comic out there without their permission.

I think I'm going to follow the spirit of their last post and share the comic, but if somebody has any idea, comment or observation, please, let me know.

*be vigilant about your internet privacy and what you put out there!! I'm just a basic nerd and was able to get all that information with just google! All the people telling you to be careful are not paranoid, they know how easy is to find information about somebody!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

S.V. Dáte at HuffPost:

WASHINGTON — Special counsel Jack Smith Tuesday announced that a grand jury had reindicted former President Donald Trump on four charges related to his Jan. 6, 2021, coup attempt to honor the direction given by the U.S. Supreme Court in its July ruling holding that Trump was immune from criminal prosecution for “official acts.” “Today, a federal grand jury in the District of Columbia returned a superseding indictment,” Smith wrote in a separate filing to U.S. District Judge Tanya Chutkan, who is handling the case. “The superseding indictment, which was presented to a new grand jury that had not previously heard evidence in this case, reflects the Government’s efforts to respect and implement the Supreme Court’s holdings.”

Trump’s first public reaction to the new indictment was to repost a message on Truth Social by Mike Davis, a former Senate lawyer who supports him, that ends with: “Bottom Line: There’s no chance this case goes to trial before the election. Trump wins. Jack Smith fired. Case closed.” About an hour later, Trump personally responded with a five-post screed on his social media platform in which he called Smith “deranged” and claimed, without any evidence, that the prosecution was being directed by President Joe Biden’s White House. He also repeated his lie that Democrats had cheated to win the 2020 election. He ended with: “PERSECUTION OF A POLITICAL OPPONENT!” The “superseding” indictment, as it is known, charges Trump with the same four counts as in the original indictment that was filed a year ago: Conspiracy to defraud the United States, conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding, obstructing an official proceeding and conspiracy to deprive millions of Americans of their right to have their votes counted. It follows the same narrative structure, laying out how Trump spent months after losing his 2020 reelection bid laying the groundwork for the violent assault on the Capitol by his mob of followers.

“Despite having lost, the defendant ― who was also the incumbent president ― was determined to remain in power,” Smith wrote. “So, for more than two months following election day on November 3, 2020, the defendant spread lies that there had been outcome-determinative fraud in the election [that] he had actually won. These claims were false, and the defendant knew that they were false.” But Smith’s new indictment does not reference Trump’s efforts to enlist federal government employees in the executive branch — who all technically report to him. For instance, the original indictment had mentioned a Department of Justice official whom Trump considered making his attorney general because of his willingness to tell state officials that voter fraud had occurred. The new indictment does not include the official as a co-conspirator, but does still include the other five individuals who were not in government. The Supreme Court ruled in July that Trump had immunity from prosecution for “official” acts, and specifically cited the ability to hire and fire executive branch employees to carry out his wishes. The revised indictment, now at 36 pages compared to the 45-page original, still centers on Trump’s scheme to have allies in key states won by Biden create fake Electoral College slates and send them to the Senate. The plan was for then-Vice President Mike Pence to use the fake Trump slates instead of the legitimate slates for Democrat Joe Biden and declare Trump the winner.

A new grand jury issued a superseding indictment on Donald Trump on the same charges as the original indictment in regards to his coup attempt that led to the January 6th Insurrection in a bid to stay in power: Conspiracy to defraud the United States, conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding, obstructing an official proceeding and conspiracy to deprive millions of Americans of their right to have their votes counted.

The new indictments, with respect to the SCOTUS’s Trump v. United States ruling, omitted official business acts.

See Also:

The Guardian: Special counsel files new indictment against Trump over 2020 election

[raina-at]

Year in fic review 2023

Total number of completed stories: 4, I finished Spare Parts in 2022, just finished posting in 2023.

Total word count: About 50 k (published, god knows how many words of unfinished WIPS and abandoned one-shots)

Fandoms written in: BBC Sherlock, I'm a one-trick pony these days ;-)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Hm, I suppose less? And not the things I expected. I started writing a lot of long, plotty fics but apparently, it wasn't the year for long and plotty fics. I suppose I didn't have the brain space for long and plotty.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Probably Nothing Gold Can Stay, because I had this idea months and months ago, of John having a bit of a crisis before his wedding. I had this one piece of a core of a fic, the whole nucleus where John tells Sherlock nobody ever sticks with him, ever. And then I had three different fragments of fics trying to make it work, and every one had something amazing in it, but I just couldn't make it gel. And then I thought of the famous The thing you wanted to say, say it now, and the scene on the bench in TSOT, and bam, I had a fic. It came out in stops and starts of 200-word chunks, while John laboured with whether and how and when to trust enough, to have faith enough to actually say how he feels. I'm really proud of how it came out in the end, and I'm very happy you guys responded to it the way you did.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I don't know about risks, but I wrote 31 ficlets in pretty much a month, which came out to 26000 words, and that was no mean feat. And I actually still like most of them. Gave me a bit of writers' burn-out, I won't lie, but what a ride!

Do you have any fanfic goals for the new year?

I want to finish my Christmas fic. I would like to re-visit the Nothing Gold boys because I think there's meat on these bones and I always wanted to do a series of shorter fics that hang together. So maybe I can do something with that. But last year was so stressful at work and I don't see this year going any better (we have three big conferences this summer, so it's probably going to be So Much Worse). So, I'll be grateful for what I can accomplish, and accept that it might not be everything I want.

Most popular story of the year?

Nothing Gold Can Stay for sure.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

Hm, I got a lot of lovely feedback this year, so I generally feel loved and appreciated by fandom. My May ficlets especially got a lot of responses here on tumblr, and I loved that dynamic interchange between writing and reading and commeting, especially with the others who did the challenge.

If I had to pick one underappreciated story, my Spare Parts 'verse January 29th fic The Stars Walk Backward didn't get a lot of eyeballs, but it's understandable given that it's a one-shot in a 'verse that not that many people are famliar with in the first place. It's a bit of a stepchild of a 'verse, but I love it, and I love this story for its unabashed sentimentality. It's very sweet and very calm and has a lot of 'we're back together and I don't want to fuck this up again' energy. I love re-visiting this fic if I need a quick pick-me-up, so. You know.

Most fun story to write:

Most of the ficlets were fun to write, and Tipping Point was somehow the opposite of Nothing Gold Can Stay in that it came out in a big rush over four days, like a writing tsunami. But my Christmas fic is also super fun to write, I just hope I can sustain the fun and actually finish it.

Most unintentionally telling story:

Probably Nothing Gold Can Stay, I suppose. Grief is really complicated, and it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that you can sort of stumble into pockets of it, and that you sometimes grieve things that are technically still there but have changed a lot. Essentially, the story is about a John who has to stop running away from his grief and turn around and face it, and a Sherlock who sees that if he wants to truly get John back, he has to face it with him.

Biggest disappointment:

With myself for being unable to finish the many, many, many fics I've stared but didn't remotely finish. But also gracious to myself for letting life happen.

Biggest surprise:

Not surprise but gratitude for the love and support of this fandom. You guys are awesome. I'm so grateful whenever someone tells me that something I wrote made them Feel Something(TM). It's the greatest compliment a writer can receive, and I feel truly blessed that I heard this a fair bit this year. I write because it makes me happy, and if people reading my fics experience something similar, then that makes me even happier. So thank you, fandom.

[apas-95]

Please bear in mind that I'm not disagreeing with you or anything like that, in fact I appreciate your views on Russia-Ukraine and this is why I just want to ask this. So, to simplify, you believe that the conflict is of two imperial powers, NATO vs Putin's Russia. Okay. What I struggle to understand is this, and um I myself am from Kazakhstan, so I guess bear that in mind. So if Russia is seeking new colonies (Crimea as the source of oil, famously), why wouldn't they rather colonize Kazakhstan? We are richer than Ukraine, our oil reserves are greater, we can mount no defense like Ukraine and obviously would not receive any help from NATO. In fact during January events we explicitly asked them to help us, their army entered, and then left (even though many claimed they would overturn our government). Idk how much you know about our country, so you might claim that Russia already has us as their colony, but I know for a fact that the most of oil reserves belong to Italian, German and American companies. Our president (Tokayev) while might seem like Putin's puppet, even during this war has gone against Putin - remained neutral about the conflict (like Belarus we technically could help), and also accepted the greatest number of refugees from Russia who refused to join the war (in my country many have argued that he's done more than the West to truly stop the conflict with this act). There are 14 Post-Soviet Republics, if not us, why not colonize any other country except the one that gets help from the States? (Armenia famously got their help during the whole Azerbaijan invasion) Also - you might say that Ukraine bc of their crimes against Russians gave a better reason, then we, too, have anti-Russia's movements that technically could provide a reason. Again, I'm not pro-Putin, obv, and mb this isn't important in the context, mb I shouldn't include such a narrow point of view, just, if you have anything to say about that, I would love to hear it, thanks!

I would say that there are a few main points that should be got across.

First: taking it as given that the Russian Federation is an imperialist country, in the Marxist sense of the term, we would have to conclude that it's a much weaker imperialist country than the USA.

From the start of the Russian Federation, it was a very impoverished country, one that survived mainly by selling off its natural resources and cannibalising the industrial base it took from the USSR. However, imperialism relies more on the wealth of the capitalist class than the country as a whole, and there was a lot of Soviet wealth and expertise to cannibalise. In Marxist terms, the key feature of imperialism is the export of capital, rather than resources or commodities, becoming the key part of the economy. The bourgeoisie of the Russian Federation has been able to build up enough capital to begin making this possible.

As it stands now, in the cases of CSTO countries, while the RF is often not even the largest investor, it is still a substantial investor, when looking at Foreign Direct Investment figures. Kazakhstan specifically has far more European investment (in part because of its resources compared to other countries), but it's undeniable that the RF is an influence - that we could describe the CSTO as, broadly, the RF's sphere of influence. While the US's sphere of influence is basically the entire world; and the EU's sphere of influence is all of Europe, most of Eurasia, and most of Africa; the Russian Federation would have a comparatively much smaller sphere of influence with a lot of overlap.

The second thing is: the Russian Federation's invasion of Ukraine is not, principally, an attempt at simple economic expansion, but motivated primarily by competition with the US imperialist bloc.

You are right - if the RF was looking to just invade and directly take control of whatever country it wished, it wouldn't choose Ukraine, it would choose somewhere closer to home. However, direct colonisation isn't how modern imperialism operates. Financial control with the threat of military action is far easier to maintain, once you've built up the capital. Being an imperialist country is exactly what makes 'primitive accumulation' through seizing territory no longer necessary. The reason the Russian Federation invaded Ukraine in 2022, and began military action against the country in 2014, is specifically because the prior neutral government was overthrown in a US-backed coup which installed a right-wing, nationalist government, which was explicitly hostile to Russia.

This isn't fueled by a simple, moral justification of 'well they hate Russians, so we should invade them' - it's a political move based on the fact that this new government was explicitly allied with the USA. From the USA's side, it was a move specifically to split the EU and RF blocs. The EU was becoming less interested in the alliance with the USA, and more interested with closer ties with the Russian Federation - the USA provoking a war both weakens the RF, as well as demonstrates its military dominance to the EU. Had the Kazakh government instead called for NATO to assist it, the Russian response may have been different. Imperialism is fine with nominal independence - it wants influence, not direct control - but when that influence is threatened, when a country takes a hard, military stance against it, then it acts violently.

So, again, I'd say the character of this conflict is inter-imperialist competition, instigated mainly by the US imperialist bloc, in order to weaken ties between the RF and EU imperialist blocs. The war is fought between the capitalists of each nation over which group of them gets market access to which territories, and the working people gain nothing either way. The workers, once united under a socialist state, now kill each other, so that the oligarchs that keep them poor can get richer. Neither side of this conflict fights for the workers.

Hope this helps explain my position! Also, for what it's worth, I lived in Kazakhstan for a time as a child, in Almaty.

[mariacallous]

A battle for control is taking place inside iPhones across Europe. While Apple introduced new rules that ostensibly loosen its control over the App Store, local developers are seething at the new system, which they say entrenches the power Apple already wields over their businesses. They’re now breaking into a rare open revolt, mounting pressure on lawmakers to step in.

So far, they have accused Apple’s new business terms of being “abusive,” “extortion,” and “ludicrously punitive.”

“Apple holds app providers ransom like the Mafia,” claims Matthias Pfau, CEO and cofounder of Tuta, an encrypted email provider. The tech giant treats iPhones as its territory, Pfau complains, tightly controlling developers’ access before taking a chunk of their profits. “Anyone wanting to provide an iOS app must pay a ransom to Apple; there’s no way around it.”

For years, Apple has rejected Tuta app updates if they include links to the company’s website, he says. Like all iOS apps, Tuta has also been unable to take in-app payments directly from its customers. Apple acts as an intermediary and charges a fee. Pfau was hoping the App Store reforms mandated by the EU’s Digital Markets Act (DMA) would make companies like his less tightly bound to Apple. Instead, he is left disappointed by the new terms on offer. “What they came up with is the best proof that they are massively abusing their market dominance,” he says. “Apple is basically behaving like a dictator.”

Apple was designated a “gatekeeper” under the DMA after the EU decided that the App Store acts as an important gateway between businesses and consumers. The company, along with other tech giants, has until March 7 to make a raft of changes. To avoid fines that can reach up to 20 percent of global revenue, the smartphone maker announced its new rules in late January.

The rules technically make it possible for users of its hardware to download apps from alternative app stores and also for developers to use their own payment systems—bypassing Apple’s commission.

But in order to access these new features, developers have to sign up to new business terms. Those terms include restrictions that disincentivize any developers moving away from the status quo, according to Pfau. If his company Tuta were to take advantage of the new system, iPhones would issue warnings—known by critics as “scare screens”—informing users about security risks linked to using payment systems that are not managed by Apple. From Tuta’s testing of how popups affect in-app upgrades, he estimates these warnings would dissuade 50 percent of users from proceeding with their purchase.

Additionally, although the new terms allow Pfau to make Tuta available in an alternative app store, they would also expose the company to a “core technology fee” every time it was downloaded or updated more than 1 million times in a one-year period. Pfau accepts that Tuta, which he claims has over 100,000 paying subscribers, might not have to pay this fee in the first year. “But we are growing,” he insists. “So we would definitely have to pay it within the next couple of years.”

For Sweden’s Spotify, the download fee is more of an immediate problem if the company were to accept Apple’s new business terms. “With our EU Apple install base in the 100 million range, this new tax on downloads and updates could skyrocket our customer acquisition costs, potentially increasing them tenfold,” Spotify CEO Daniel Ek said on X soon after Apple released its proposal. “While Apple has behaved badly for years, what they did yesterday represents a new low, even for them.”

For that reason, Spotify, like other apps, believes it has no choice but to stick with its current agreement, Ek elaborated in a call with investors last week. That means still paying commission to Apple and listing their iOS app exclusively on Apple’s App Store. “No sane developer wants to pick any of the new terms,” Ek said. Sticking with the current system doesn’t make the situation worse for companies like Spotify, he added, but it does mean they are missing out on revenues from users buying products such as audiobooks, a new focus for the platform, through the company’s app. (Spotify does not sell audiobooks in their iOS app in order to avoid Apple’s commission fee.) “So some of these more innovative things that we would like to do, we’re currently restricted in doing on the iOS ecosystem.”

Apple maintains its changes are compliant with the DMA while also being necessary to protect its EU users’ devices from the security risks that, it says, are introduced by the new law. “Apple’s approach to the Digital Markets Act was guided by two simple goals: complying with the law and reducing the inevitable, increased risks the DMA creates for our EU users,” says Apple spokesperson Julien Trosdorf. “That meant creating safeguards to protect EU users to the greatest extent possible and to respond to new threats, including new vectors for malware and viruses, opportunities for scams and fraud, and challenges to ensuring apps are functional on Apple’s platforms.”

App developers don’t have much power on their own to make Apple change course. But they hope their criticism will force the European Commission, a branch of the EU’s government, to take action. After the March 7 deadline, officials are expected to assess both Apple’s proposals and the market’s reaction. “Now [the European Commission] must reject Apple’s proposal and even consider imposing a fine if no further improvements are made,” says Sebastiano Toffaletti, secretary general of the European DIGITAL SME Alliance, an industry group.

Andy Yen, CEO of Swiss email and cloud service Proton, is less diplomatic. “If I was the European Commission, I would probably look at this as an insult,” he says of Apple’s proposed business terms. “It’s a slap in the face.”

[anathemafiction]

Inflation prices

Hosted Games is going to raise the price of all of their games on January 19th — it's been years, but it seems inflation has caught up with them. This won't affect newer releases much, like the Rose, but it may have a pretty substantial price increase in some of the older titles. 

The Golden Rose will go up 15% percent — so if you want to buy it, now's the time to do it! Outside of Steam sales, it'll never be this low price again.

However, some old gems will have bigger price changes, and I wanted to take this opportunity to shine some light on a few of my old favorite HG games. If the summaries interest you, give the free demos a try!

(I'll be linking the COG page, where you can find the links to Steam, Google Play, the App Store, and Amazon at the bottom of the screen).

Tin Star (50% price increase) — Step into the shoes of a US marshal in the old, wild west. It's a very big game, full of hard decisions and a great cast of characters (Preston, you cocky bastard, I love you). You can be a terrible person, a saint, or anything in between. 

Zombie Exodus (60% increase) — Try to survive a zombie apocalypse. There are dangerous missions to navigate, complicated power dynamics between survivors, and, of course, friends and lovers to remind you what it is you're fighting for. This is an old game, but it was one of the first IFs I read, and to this day the story and characters hold a special place in my heart. 

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven (40%) — This one isn't really an old game, but I want to include it since the price increase is still substantial and, if you enjoy the first ZE, you will LOVE this. The author took everything from the first game and made it better. You can see how much he has improved. From customization (it's mind-blowing), to relationships, to writing atmospheres - I was legitimately scared in some parts! Plus, the different prologues are so good and... just try it! I adore this game so much. 

Way Walkers: University (40%) — Play as a student in a prestigious magic school. The magic system is super interesting, as is the world at large. But, by far, the best thing about this game and its sequel are the characters. It has one of my favorite ROs in any IF games, Semryu, and the way your friendship develops into a tentative romance is so well done. There's also mystery and tension, and I cannot wait for Book 3! 

Double/Cross (60%) — Okay, I'll admit: I don't remember a lot about this game. It's been years since I read it, but I do remember, however, really liking it! You work as a bodyguard for the richest man in England, and not everything is as it seems. I like it because it subverts your expectations, and when I got my "happy ending" I... did not feel happy at all. It's really interesting and not very long, so I encourage everyone to give it a try!

So, You're Possessed! (50%) — Oh, how to explain this game? You start as a pizza delivery person, and then you meet a demon and your life is thrown upside down. It's been years since I've played it but it has always remained a special little gem. I don't want to spoil the story too much, so just give it a try!

Evertree Inn (40%) — Again, not exactly old, but I think the price increase warrants it on the list. I also think most of you are familiar with the game and its sequels, but I want to mention it anyway. Solve a mystery in a secluded tavern and watch out for the murderer! You can play as a number of fantasy races — dwarf, elf, etc— and interact with a cast of colorful characters. It's just such a fun game, and it leads to a great adventure in the sequel. 

Fallen Hero: Rebirth (40%) — Okay, okay, I know. You all have the game already plus, it isn't technically "old". Well, may this serve as an announcement that Fallen Hero is about to get 40% more expensive, and if by some chance some of you haven't played it yet, you should absolutely do so now. The sequel is coming, and it's held as one of the best IFs ever published. A reputation that, in my opinion, is more than deserved. 

Happy reading! I hope you find at least one game that'll bring you joy.♡

[scotianostra]

On January 1st 1600 Scotland celebrated the New Year for the first time on this date.

Scotland actually adopted January 1 as New Year’s Day in 1600 when it switched from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar. England wouldn’t do this until 1752. Under the Julian calendar, the new year began on March 25th.

The Julian calendar, had been used throughout the Christian world since ancient times. But by the 16th century, scientists agreed that the old calendar improperly calculated the length of a year and was therefore falling gradually behind. During the reign of Pope Gregory XIII, a new calendar was created, called the Gregorian calendar. The new calendar, which began the year on January 1st, was adopted by most of Europe in 1582, but England and Henry VIII had broken with Rome and therefore did not adopt the new calendar.

The Scottish government decided that January 1st made a better New Year’s Day than March 25th, so the decision was made to make January 1, 1599 the new January 1st, 1600. As a result, 1599 had only nine months.

Most of Europe adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1582 and 10 days were dropped from the calendar. Though Pope Gregory’s papal bull reforming the calendar had no power beyond the Catholic Church, Catholic countries—including Spain, Portugal and Italy—swiftly adopted the new system for their civil affairs. European Protestants, however, largely rejected the change because of its ties to the papacy, fearing it was an attempt to silence their movement. It wasn’t until 1700 that Protestant Germany switched over, and England held out until 1752.

Scotland did not follow suit completely, we kept the same amount of days as the Julian calendar, so year after year in Scotland, as in England, the Julian calendar fell gradually further and further behind so we had changed New Years Day but technically we were still using The Julian calendar, this continued until 1752 when Westminster implemented The Gregorian calendar and dropped 11 days. The last European country to adopt the reform was Greece as recently as 1923.

Another wee New year fact is that The Guinness Book of World Records has listed “Auld Lang Syne” as the world’s most-sung melody, even more than “Happy Birthday.” Poet Robert Burns actually transcribed the lyrics from an older Scottish folk song, and it was later paired with the music to create the traditional song we know so well. Radio play in American starting in 1929 helped to popularize the song on this side of the Atlantic and contributed to it becoming a tradition worldwide.

The pic shows the first page of the papal bull “Inter Gravissimas” by which Pope Gregory XIII introduced his calendar.

[liskantope]

Do you think that a more successful version of 1/6/2021 (either via more violence or successfully pressuring the Vice President not to certify votes) would not be a threat to democracy? To me that seems like the most likely way for Trump's general antagonism to liberal democracy to manifest itself.

A fair question.

So first of all, I would say January 6th was the biggest embarrassment to MAGA people, and to Republicans in general, of the last seven years or so. You can see this just by listening to the political discourse surrounding Trump. Democrats love to bring it up as much as possible, while Republicans find every possible way to be on the defensive ("Yeah, it was bad, but its badness is exaggerated -- it doesn't technically fit the definition of coup or even insurrection -- nobody brought guns or was actually killing people -- you just want to make everything about January 6th -- what about the BLM riots around the country the previous summer?"). I once was confronting a previously staunchly liberal friend who started voting Republican and seeming to abandon most of her left-wing stances on a variety of issues following being pissed off at how Democrats in California dealt with school closures during the pandemic, and asking her whether her new convictions really outweighed the horrors of another Trump term; when I brought up January 6th, the best response she had was, "That was terrible and the truth is I think most Republicans feel terrible about January 6th."

My point being that January 6th, 2021 was a disaster for MAGAism and the Republican party in general (if Harris winds up winning narrowly in November, I'm going to say that if January 6th hadn't happened, she would have lost, and that is truly a silver lining), and most Republicans know it. Unfortunately, Trump himself and his most impassioned cult followers are among the only ones not wise enough to know it. So yes, I expect a worse version of January 6th could occur, which would be an even bigger disaster for the Republican party and likely spell the death of MAGAism altogether (as opposed to, say, turning us into a one-party state under Trump and the MAGAists) but be a very, very horrible event in and of itself. I guess my point is, what effects would this have beyond the immediate? I guess the worst-case scenario -- which is admittedly historically bad for our country -- would be that that the VP is willing not to certify votes this time, that a constitutional crisis is triggered which has to be decided by various courts now stacked explicitly in Trump's favor, and a Trumpist president (which could only be Trump himself if he managed to ram through an end to term limits and if his health is holding up at 82) and/or members of Congress wrongly get elected.

This would be a highly, highly undemocratic event in the history of our country, but not much more undemocratic than, say, Bush's election in 2000 was; meanwhile, I predict that Trump himself will be not much longer for this world, that a very solid majority of Americans will be awake to the dangers of MAGA and fight against it like nothing we've seen before, that an actual focused policy agenda would fail to come to fruition, and that the political backlash would be decisive (the basic form of our government and mechanisms for elections would still be in place, and could those in power really fix the results if they were losing by a true landslide rather than marginally? I tend to think not.)

Would this worst-case scenario be an absolutely appalling sequence of events? Yes, and plenty of reason to fear Trump's return to power (even though it still relies on a lot of "if"s). Would it unravel the structure of our government to turn it into something more like a dictatorship, or in other words, "destroy democracy"? It's hard for me to concretely imagine a way that it would.

I suppose I'd prefer that phrases like "insult to democracy", "degrade/undermine democracy", and "antidemocratic" be used over phrases like "destroy democracy" and "make himself a dictator". But, I don't know, if the latter are doing a better job of turning swing voters against Trump than they are at giving Trump supporters more ammunition for diagnosing half the country has having Trump Derangement Syndrome, then I guess I'm in favor of that rhetoric for the short term of the next three months.