#nothing will make you appreciate the amateurs in a field more than trying that shit yourself and realizing oh god

[spheciform]

Like the more new creative forms I try the more I realize how much a miracle it is that anything gets made at all because it all requires so much incredible effort and skill. Like for real even the most scuffed thing you've ever seen has hours and hours of effort and love put into it and I think that's beautiful

[shini--chan]

Yandere England HCs

I remember somewhere around here in my inbox somebody requested yandere England hcs. If I recall correctly, there handle was @hehehhewaitwhat  Sadly, the ask has vanished from the box, but I still recall receiving it! So here you go:  

Yandere England

Arthur would be one of the yanderes that would play it cool at first. No cool isn’t the right word – it is cold. He would believe in keeping a tight control on his emotions, least they take over him and he is no longer his own master. All in all, a very good idea, it is just the matter of execution that matters – Arthur would be doing this in a very unhealthy way. He’d bottle up his feeling on a large part, refusing to analysis them and locate the source, not to mention expressing his emotions in healthy ways. And here would be where the yandere tendencies start to blossom.

It would result in all his ignored and unacknowledged feelings for you start to seep through in the most eery ways, ways that would be borderline toxic. What could have potentially been love would become twisted and wrapped, some of Arthur’s other issues just amplifying this. In the end, he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from either manipulating you into his web, or outright kidnapping you.

The insistent burning in his veins never ceased, rather it grew even worse when you weren’t close to him. It was magma rolling in his veins, eradicating even more of his rational thoughts the longer he attempted to ignore it.

In an attempt to remedy it, Arthur turned the water in the shower to ice-cold. A mistake on his part. It had gave a sharp contrast and thus made the concoction of emotions stand out all the sharper. It made him wonder if the only cure would be to give into them and let nature take its course.

Yet that was something he couldn’t allow. Emotions were the leftovers of a primordial past – notions that didn’t follow any logic or decency. If they weren’t controlled, then they would control.

He turned his face up to the stream of water, as if it could wash away all the sinful thoughts about you that had begun to haunt him. That was a tragedy on its own – he never could be rid of you. You would come to haunt his dreams uninvited, invade his thoughts unwelcomed. He remembered when his interest in you had just been a mere sapling. Now it was a field of weeds, a contagion that was completely out of his control and still demanded his attention.

He shouldn’t have ignored his love when it had started to sprout, for now it had turned into obsession.

Of course, he’ll try the former way first before anything else – he would know that you wouldn’t really appreciate it if he abducted you. England would turn the charm on and boy, can he be charming when he wants to be. It wouldn’t be in grand, over the top gestures – that is for amateurs. It would come in small, effective gestures that would become bigger over time – freshly picked flowers from his garden, biscuits he made himself and then he would go over to bigger presents like a dinner in a fancy restaurant. His aim would be to have you completely smittened before he would start to cut you off from the rest of the world and to mould you into what constitutes for a perfect person.

It was a fine day; the sun painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of warm colours and caused the green of the hills to become so saturated. Or maybe it was because you were in love that the world was all the more vivid, that the air smelled sweeter and the arm that was curled around your waist felt so right.

Arthur was being charming, a good-natured smile making his sharp features softer. He had taken you out to dinner tonight, a brief affair at a rustic inn out in a no-name little village. Yet the simple meal had been the best you had had in a long time.

So, with a full stomach in satisfaction in your heart, Arthur was accompanying you back home on this summer’s evening.

“My dear, that was a very wonderful day with you”, he remarked warmly, echoing your thoughts.

“Yes, it was. You couldn’t have picked a better place to go out. I would like to do such a thing again.”

He chuckled lowly at your affirmation. “Oh, love. I wouldn’t mind doing that every day with you for the rest of our lives.”

Under other circumstances, if you weren’t so smittened with him, you would realise that what he had said couldn’t be right. Good days can’t be copy-pasted on the future forever, happiness can’t be played constantly on repeat. It has to be experienced, the cause ever varied and reinvented so that it doesn’t become dull.

Yet you weren’t not in love with him. You were neither alarmed by the clinginess the statement implied or by how sappy it was. And that was exactly what Arthur wanted.

To be clear, he wouldn’t want a weak, stupid lover. There would be nothing more off-putting to him than a whiny, spineless idiot who can’t do anything on their own. In that way, you could say he’d have high standards. He’d want somebody who is a challenge, you’d be tactful in their conduct and somebody who’d have wit to match his. Arthur has a sharp tongue and even with you he wouldn’t shy away from dispensing chidings and sharp remarks. He’d also demand you have a spine of steel, that you wouldn’t simply cave in the face of danger. If you wouldn’t have these qualities, then you’d have to adopt them, and he would be never uncompromising about that.

Ironically, while he would manipulate you into having these qualities, he wouldn’t tolerate you having them to the extent would make your relationship impossible. He wouldn’t want to be taken care of in the terms of you being the breadwinner, doing business and all that. He would want to fulfil that roles for you, whether you’re a woman or a man. It would be a chronic need to provide for you, to be the dominate one in the relationship.

You sighed for the untempt time this afternoon. No matter how much you read the page of the book, the meaning of the passages eluded you. At this point, you only had a gist of what was going on and it frustrated you to no end.

Carefully, you placed a bookmark on the page that you had been busy with and closed the hard-cover novel quietly. You knew all to well that one of the easiest ways to get Arthur in a hissy fit was to maltreat one of his books. He claimed that books had to be treated with respect, because somebody had once put a lot of effort and time into writing it. A disrespect to the book was therefore an indirect disrespect to the author.

You leaned back in your chair and stared up at the decorations of the room. Arthur of course had to live in a mansion that seemingly was a time capsule for the age of Empire. Talk about being attracted to the glorious old days.

Carding your fingers through your hair, you cursed yourself. When did you get the brilliant idea to study the classics? Oh yes, it was when Arthur mentioned the benefits of higher literature while the two you had been cleaning. He had claimed that the complex characters made the reader better at socializing, at understanding that even the most despicable characters had softer sides. That it made a person for eloquent and at understanding the nuances of reality.

And of course, since you were constantly seeking to improve yourself, you had asked him if you could peruse his library. Arthur had whole-heartedly encouraged you and you knew that he would be extremely disappointed if you abandoned this chance to grow.

So, you opened the book again and reassumed the torture.

The need for dominance would be a manifestation for Arthur’s addiction to be in control. He is sort of the opinion that power is best left in his hands, and that nobody except him can properly wield it. And if he’d have the feeling that his control over would be slipping, then he would lash out. The most physical he’d get with his punishments would be caning. All in all, punishments would always be along the lines of what detention looked like in the old public schools during the Empire.

He would also have a certain image of what intelligent would look like. That would mean restrictions in your activities: no comics, no cartoons, no fizzy drinks, god have mercy on you is you have an addiction because he would have none, he says which parties you’re allowed to go to (that would be more in the beginning of the relationship), no sleeping in, no being lazy. And if you wouldn’t conform, then he’d manipulate you into doing so.

Arthur is a man who would quickly become jealous. He’d be scared if you’d be plotting to leave him, or worse, rope other’s in into helping you plunge a knife in his back. So, he would be quick to convincing you to cut of contact with people that he wouldn’t like. This would be a win-win situation for him because the less social contact you’d have beside him, the deeper your bond with him would become. Further on in your relationship, he’d convince you to rely solely on him and that other people wouldn’t be trustworthy. That he’d be the only person that would ever truly understand you, that would have your best interests at heart, that would help you grow into the best person you could be. That the world is a shit place and that you should be grateful that he is there to shield you from it. In order to encourage that last one, he would allow you to watch the news, extensively.

If wooing you into being with him wouldn’t work, then he would coerce you into a relationship. However, he wouldn’t do anything drastic such as threatening your loved ones, rather the threats would be hidden, or he would present himself as the best option of getting you out a ditch (such as financial issues). He’d try his best to construct the situation so that you would be inclined to trick yourself into thinking you wanted it. Kidnapping would be a last resort for him.

[lovelyirony]

Maybe 60 and 46, Pepper / Natasha? (Based off our conversation from the other day :P )

“Dance with me.”/“You look like you could use a hug.” introducing: evil businesswoman pepper and her lovely assistant, natasha 

Pepper didn’t like dealing with other businesses early in the morning. In fact, she usually didn’t. She did her worst in the mornings, and it was clear to see. 

There was a man still lying in his chair when she comes out of the meeting room, and asks for a clean-up crew. 

She hates tech start-ups. 

Her assistant didn’t last. They never did, although this one had shown promise: he was with the company for five months. 

She was sad to see him go, in shock at another mess she had made. 

“Maybe you could stop killing other businesses,” Tony tells her while they’re eating lunch. It’s a nice place, where they’re at. They have a good balsamic vinaigrette.  

“I could, but then where would the company be?” Pepper asks. “They need to know that I like to be impressed. I want success. That’s how you get what you want.” 

Tony makes a face. 

He wants to say something, but he can’t. Not when he signed the company over to her, and she’s improved it, been allowed to make her own choices, bring everything up to her standards. She’s put everyone at her heel, and by god has it been satisfying. 

But she still needs a new assistant. 

- 

Natasha Romanoff is not liking the current assignment. Then again, she doesn’t like a lot of SHIELD’s assignments. 

She likes the company, really. They’re altruistic as hell and like going through the proper channels to get the proper work done. 

But she misses the feeling of getting yourself immersed, getting your hands stained beyond belief. 

An assistant. 

They want her to be a damned assistant for Stark Industries. Investigate the CEO, figure out what kind of dirt they can dig up and get out. 

It’s insufferable. She should be doing high-speed car chases and seducing oil barons to make sure their finances get drained. 

She shouldn’t be asking what kind of creamer goes in coffee and what kind of pens they want to be ordered. 

But here she is for the interview process, and she’s wearing her best office dress, which is still a bit risky for what an office job is, but she pays everyone else no mind. She taps her heel on the floor. 

- 

Pepper hates interviewing candidates. But she has to observe who is going to be working with her, who can handle what they’re going to throw at her. 

There’s a woman in the middle of it: Natalie Rushman. 

She’s been abroad with various companies, used to do some amateur modeling, and is wearing a dress that would probably get her in trouble with HR if Pepper didn’t appreciate it so damn much. 

She’s interesting. 

Her eyes flash when Pepper asks her how comfortable she is in slightly dangerous situations. 

“What, like copy paper being out?” she asks. Pepper laughs. 

“Something a touch more dangerous than that, Miss Rushman.” 

The interview ends. 

Pepper thinks about her through the whole thing.

- 

Natasha is excited. 

Finally a job where she can use her skills. Where she can do what she needs to do, and it will be wonderful. 

Natasha shouldn’t be excited. 

But she can’t help herself as she buys four new pairs of shoes and debates on a skirt that she should bring. 

After all, she will be getting the job if Ms. Potts’ posture gave any indication. 

- 

Miss Rushman starts officially on a Wednesday after two days of training. Usually it would take anywhere from one to two weeks. But she’s scarily efficient and has apparently worked with the same kind of things. 

Pepper finds that she’s the best assistant she’s ever had. She’s already taken notes on what Pepper does throughout the day, knows when she needs to take a break for a headache, and also knows the extremely specific coffee creamer that she uses. 

It would almost terrify her, if she could still get terrified at the mundane details that people could know about you. 

But Miss Rushman makes it seem easy, and so she lets it slide. After all, it’s not like Natalie can just leave. She’s signed four different sets of paperwork that basically say if she so much as breathes wrong, Stark Industries gets her soul for eternity. 

She’ll be trapped. 

Natasha finds that aspect exciting. 

She shouldn’t find the act of Pepper Potts holding a letter-opener to a business associate’s neck hot. 

It shouldn’t be. 

But Pepper got a lovely crimson-red manicure, and she’s smiling so sweetly as she discusses what they agreed upon versus what’s happening. 

It takes Natalie Rushman a moment to process. 

“Miss Potts?” she interrupts. 

Pepper’s head slowly turns. Her strawberry-blonde hair moves smoothly over the letter-opener, over the hand clutched, trying to hold onto a way to live. 

“Yes, Miss Rushman?” 

“I have some paperwork for you to sign. Regarding the new hospital tech installment.” 

“Set them on my right. I’m finishing up some...loose ends.” 

Natalie doesn’t react to the loud noise other than a displeased hum and asking the other members in the room if they want lemon-water. 

It’s refreshing in the afternoon, and she needs to clean the cabinet behind them anyways. 

- 

Pepper gets adjusted to her assistant. And Natalie gets adjusted to her life. 

She’s comfortable with it. It’s easy, to lean on who she had to be. 

It’s a rude wake-up call when she gets lunch with Clint, and he asks how the mission is going. 

“You any closer to taking her down?” 

She blinks for a moment. Pokes at her cake. 

“Nat, come on. You know she can’t keep getting away with this, right?” 

“Why does the world need more businessmen?” Natasha murmurs. 

Clint stares at her. 

“Come on. You told me when I brought you over here that you didn’t want to turn into who they made you into again. Just because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s worth it.” 

He’s right. 

Of course he is. Clint usually is about this type of thing. 

Pepper Potts is...well. Natasha can admire the dedication she takes with her success. 

But usual bosses don’t really kill the competition. 

Literally. 

- 

Pepper’s noticed a change in Natalie Rushman. 

She doesn’t like it. 

She doesn’t watch for as long, doesn’t talk as easily with her anymore. 

Tony says maybe all of this terrible shit is catching up with her, her conscience finally clueing her in on the situation. 

No, that’s not it. That can’t be it. Not after how she stared at Pepper, not after her smile, not after those nights where they stayed late and both gazed but never said anything. 

Natalie is in the breakroom, staring into a coffee mug that has nothing in it. 

“You look like you could use a hug,” Pepper says dryly, sidling up to her. She takes a step away. 

Hm. 

“I’m fine, just a busy day,” Natalie says. 

God, she’s not even trying to lie. That’s infuriating. 

“Your days are about to get a little bit busier,” she starts in. “I’ve decided to host a little celebration for all of the companies we’ve worked with over this past year. We’re going to have a real ball of a time, and I want you to help plan it. And attend.” 

Natasha looks at her. Really looks at her. 

Shit. 

Pepper’s onto her. She knows something is different, something is off. 

And if Natasha’s to get away, she’s still going to have fun toying with her. She’s going to make life hell. 

The saying goes that if you can’t handle the heat, get the hell out of the kitchen. 

Natasha’s been cooking for a much longer time than Pepper, and she’s known her way around more kitchens than most. 

Bring it. 

- 

Putting together an honest-to-god ball for an eccentric, threatening CEO is fun. It shouldn’t be fun, but it is. 

The caterers are scared into arriving early, the invitations are embossed with actual gold, and the music costs way more than it should. 

Natasha is having so much fun with it that she completely forgets about her dress. 

She’s cursing as she’s tearing through her closet, looking for something that would be remotely appropriate for a ball for a sadistic CEO that she kind of has a crush on.) 

There’s a knock at the door. 

She rips it open, expecting it to be Clint or Maria to make fun of her, but it’s not. 

“Um. Delivery for Miss Rushman?” 

Oh. 

It’s a midnight blue ballgown, long-sleeved. She never would have chosen it for herself. 

The notecard attached said: 

Wear this one. I know you best. -Potts

A shiver runs up her spine. 

She’s not sure for what reason she’ll assign it to. 

But she puts it on, and it fits perfectly. She doesn’t want to think about how much it will cost. 

- 

Pepper, of course, looks like a dream. Or a nightmare. A terrifyingly beautiful nightmare. 

Her dress is burgundy, her lipstick matches. Her hair is loose, not kept in the high ponytail that is customary. 

Her eyes are a brilliant blue. They see right through her. 

“You look gorgeous, Miss Rushman,” she says, looking her up and down. “As to be expected, of course.” 

“Of course,” Natasha murmurs. 

The night will be long. 

They mingle. Natasha dutifully informs Pepper of who the lesser players on the field are, and fetches drinks. 

It’s...odd. 

It feels like something big is going to happen. And maybe it will, maybe it won’t. 

-

“Dance with me,” Pepper asks her. “Please.” 

She’s adding the last part in so that it sounds nice. But it’s a demand all the same. 

Natasha takes her hand, and maybe she should be more reserved about it, but she can’t help it. 

It’s captivating. It’s dangerous. But she accepts all the same. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” Pepper murmurs. “You far outshine every other woman here.” 

“Even you?” Natasha asks. 

Pepper rolls her eyes, but smiles. 

“Obviously, Natasha. Who else would?” 

She doesn’t notice that slip-up. Maybe it’s because she’s blown away at their close proximity, maybe it’s because Miss Potts’ perfume is absolutely intoxicating. But she doesn’t notice. 

They dance and they talk. 

“I’m happy you wore the dress.” 

“It’s not like I had anything like it in my closet,” Natasha says as Pepper smiles. 

“I figured. Not many host balls anymore.” 

“You’re a different sort.” 

“I am, aren’t I? But I think you and I are one and the same.” 

They’re isolated. 

And Natasha realizes it too late. She was a fool. 

“You haven’t quit after a year, after everything we’ve been through. Everything that I put you through. A regular person couldn’t do that, could they?” 

“You’d be surprised at what people can handle,” Natasha says. 

Pepper smiles. 

“You and I both know you’re far from an average person...Romanoff.” 

She tenses. 

“You knew?” 

“It’s a relativity new tidbit of knowledge, but having a tech genius as a colleague is...nice.” 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

“Reveal you,” Pepper says. “You’re a spy. You make your bread and butter off the fact that no one knows you for very long. And me? Well, you can’t kill me. The only thing that could possibly have an effect on me is if you killed the business. Which you don’t have the infrastructure for.” 

“And if I don’t want that? What do I have to do?” Natasha asks. 

Secrecy is her safe spot. It’s the only place where she’s ever been secure. 

“Stay. Leave that Strategic-Homeland-Whatever, and come with me. Stay with me.” 

“I don’t think I can do that,” Natasha says. “Your life and mine are too similar for that.” 

“But think of all we could do together,” she says. She brushes a hair back from Natasha’s cheek. 

It’s unbearable, that feeling. It’s a feeling that Natasha will spend all her life denying that she’ll chase. 

“I can’t.” 

Pepper looks at her. It’s a look that’s chilling. 

“Very well, Miss Romanoff. Then that will be all.” 

Pepper won’t fight her physically. She would lose that way, especially with how well-tailored the dress is on her body. 

But she has other ways of fighting. 

And god help Natasha, she knows she’s doomed. 

The worst part? 

She doesn’t exactly mind. 

[leechonspeeddial]

Midnight Shift: Carry On, Citizen Fang

Summary: Something wicked this way comes. If only Resentment could figure out if it was the same thing that stunk up the Burger King. Chapters: 2/? Read on ao3

Straight Kevin had been very understanding about my family emergency – He was super duper cool with manning the restaurant all by his lonesome. Sadly, he wasn't understanding enough to let me get away with not telling Gay Kevin about it – which wasn't very super duper cool of him, now was it?

He didn't even have the decency to offer to call for me, the fucking coward.

"Are you certain it's an emergency?"

I rolled my eyes and skipped over the muddy snow pile blocking the sidewalk. I felt a sense of kinship with the season. Besides the cold and death, Winter went all out when it came to inconveniencing the population.

"Trust me, Kev. If I wanted to blow off work, I'd do it on location. I'm not exactly in a rush to get home, ya know?"

The line went quiet for exactly five seconds and I could picture him doing that breathing exercise he did whenever he was fed up with my shit. I took the opportunity to loudly slurp my mello yello.

Delicious.

"I don't know, you could be ditching to hang out with friends or something. Teens do that. I did that." I almost laughed, as if.

"I spend all of my free time at work and everyone my age thinks I'm pregnant with an incest baby. Bold of you to assume I even have friends."

"You would get friends if you felt like it would inconvenience me. And it would really inconvenience me right now"

"Ugh. Don't be so dramatic. I don't do things just to be a general nuisance," I heard a snort that didn't come from Gay Kevin. "Wait, did you put me on speaker?!"

"What's the word, Res" Not Kevin chimed in before being shushed by Gay Kevin.

"Relax, we're loading the rental. I don't exactly have a free hand."

"So? This only needed to be like two seconds. Take a five or something."

"I'm going to level with you, our new napkin guy gives me real sketch vibes. Any second where we're not loading, it's an additional second we have to spend here. I simply refuse to die in a dilapidated warehouse, Resentment. I refuse."

I crossed the street to take the park shortcut home. A couple of high schoolers were vaping by the swings; they stared at me and I ignored them.

"I think you'd survive. You exude final girl energy"

"Have you ever watched a horror movie? I'd literally die first"

"I watched Practical Magic once" I smirked when Not Kevin groaned.

My satisfaction didn't last long, because no more than a second later, a snowball hit the back of my head. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I couldn't gloat to Edward about having the moral high ground if I murdered every minor annoyance that crossed my path.

It just sucked having to ignore my vampire senses because I had to play human. What was the point of knowing something was coming if you were unable to stop it because you had to keep up appearances? In my opinion, humans should just have to deal with the knowledge of the supernatural. They were big kids, we didn't need to coddle them anymore.

It was 2022, for God's sake.

I turned back scowling and flipped off the fuckers. I recognized High-Pony in the group and decided to give her the soggiest, saddest, AND smallest fries next time she dared enter my work.

Maybe even sprinkle some burnt ones for extra flavor.

"I know what you're doing and I'm begging you to stop. I'm the one who has to deal with him for the next two hours"

"Don't be rude. Not Kevin is a gift," I glared at the group and slowly walked away backwards. At least until they were out of my sight. The Cullens were insane for going back to high school as often as they did.

"Ha. It's nice to be appreciated"

"Truly. Short of a museum, where else are you going to find something so old?"

"Boo. Get new jokes, the material is stale," I rolled my eyes as I shook the snow from my hair. I was rapidly approaching home and I wasn't quite prepared to go in.

For one, how was I supposed to keep my new mystery to myself if that's what Alice saw? It wasn't fair. To think I had only been worried about Big Brother and his thought police...

Reflecting on it though, if Alice saw my mystery man, then wouldn't that mean he was either a vampire or a human? Ergo, something neither mysterious nor interesting.

Disappointing.

"Whatever, gramps"

"Ok, ok. Let's get back on topic –"

"You gotta start trying harder, Chucky. You're far from the only teen girl that calls me ancient on the regular."

"Why are you regularly taking to teenage girls, creep?"

"Guys –"

"That's not what–! I foster kids!"

"Yeah, sure, pervert"

"I'm NOT –"

"OK RESENTMENT, DEAL WITH YOUR FAMILY. HANGING UP NOW"

I stopped walking and stared at my phone. Despite the length of the call, there had been no new messages from my family. I was unsure if that was a good sign.

I took a sip from my drink and was disappointed to find I only had ice left. I wondered if that was thematically significant, or maybe even foreshadowing.

Sigh.

I picked up my pace and tried to empty my mind before arriving home. "No thoughts, head empty" was a good mantra when you lived with a mind reader.

The rest of the walk was fairly uneventful, save for some guy who got attacked by a flock of ducks for getting way too close without enough food. Beware, all amateur wildlife photographers, lest the same fate falls upon you, I guess.

Poor guy even lost his coat. I was happy to assume it was the first casualty under the duck assault.

I slowed down when I finally arrived across the street from my home.  The newest Cullen mansion stood foreboding before me. A concrete monument full of sharp lines and odd angles; despite all of Esme's soft touches, brutalism simply exuded hostility and soullessness. Try as she might, there was a limit to how much you could dress up a giant grey concrete block to make it look approachable – and if we were being honest, it wasn't working.

How's that for a metaphor?

Well. There was no use delaying the inevitable.

I entered the house.

[Scene Break]

Being a half-vampire meant that I always felt at a misstep with everyone around me. To me, humanity was more of a scientific field of study that I took interest in and less of a dearly held-on memento of a bygone era or something that I simply had.

From the vampire side of things, while I was clearly an abomination, my existence didn't require me to be a parasitic blood freak. That put me in a different head space from the rest of my family. For one, I didn't need to agonize over my monstrous nature; secondly, I wasn't a slave to my bloodlust if I kept myself full of human food; and thirdly, there just wasn't much precedent for me to measure up to.

For all we knew, everything I did was the best I could have done.

That was all to say, I always felt like there was something I was missing when interacting with anyone. My point of view was fundamentally a different one, and though some things I could make sense of theoretically, it wasn't the same as first-hand experience.

Standing in the living room, surrounded by my family as they continued to say nothing, I couldn't help but think that perhaps this time the context I was missing had nothing to do with my hybrid status.

Edward paced while looking constipated but everyone else stood motionless and rigidly like the statues they were. Not even Emmett tried to lighten the mood, and that's how you knew it was serious.

"So who's going to who's funeral? Please don't say any of my coworkers, I've grown quite attached to them"

"Renesmee," Edward warned. I ignore him like he ignored my preferred name.

"Is it you pops? Wanna crack open another high school girl and drink her up like grape soda?"

"For once in your life could you stop acting like a brat?" Edward snapped and I flinched.

"Takes one to know one. Maybe if you didn't raise one you wouldn't have to deal with one, dad"

"Enough!" We both turned to look at Carlisle and I could see how unsettled he was. My stomach churned.

"Maybe my vision was wrong. Maybe it wasn't him," Alice sounded desperate, almost like the time the truck transporting her latest Givenchy haul got into a freak accident and the customer service lady told her they couldn't replace her order until after whatever microtrend that had been happening at the time ended.

"No, Alice. I saw your vision. It was. No doubt about it, that face is burned in my memory"

"It just doesn't make any sense, Edward!"

"I know what I saw," he replied forcefully.

Carlisle rubbed at his eyes, and for the briefest of seconds, you could have mistaken him for human.

"What's going on? You guys are scaring me," nothing felt right and all I wanted to do was to get back to the Burger King. At least the Kevins kept me in the loop when potentially life-threatening stuff happened.

"James is back," Bella whispered and I looked at her. Out of all of the Cullens, she looked the least worried. While everyone else's expressions visibly darkened at hearing the name, Bella said the name like she would say any name that wasn't Edward's.

"Who the fuck is James?"

"He was a vampire," Jasper growled.

"So what's the big deal? I don't know if you have noticed, but all of you are vampires"

"Emphasis on the was, Nessie. We ripped apart the bastard a good 16 years ago," Emmet explained. I raised my eyebrow.

"You sure about that? Last I heard, once you killed the undead, they were dead for good. No such thing as an undead undead."

"Oh, damn sure. We tore into him like frenzied piranhas at lunchtime and then lit him like a firework on the Fourth of July," Rosalie lightly hit his arm.

"You don't have to be so graphic about it"

"So it's obviously not him," Edward made a noise filled with frustration.

"Renesmee, I know what I saw. It was him, I would bet my life on it"

"Would you bet Bella's?" was what I almost said but Edward's glare made me reconsider. Just this once.

"Dead people just don't walk around all over the place," I said instead.

"We do," Emmett chimed in.

"We're different!"

"So why not him?"

"Edward is right," Classic Carl Carlisle move. His Golden Child could never be wrong. "I might have heard of something like this happening before."

There was a brief moment of silence before everyone exploded.

"WHAT?!"

Carlisle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You have to understand, I couldn't verify it at the time."

When he said nothing, Esme made a "well, go on" motion.

"It happened about a decade ago. I only came upon this information because of Eleazar – he had approached me about it because he thought I was involved," Carlisle walked towards a window and stared into the distance like the dramatic bitch he was.

Edward slapped the back of my head.

"He told me heard of rumors of a vampire that had died 50 years ago and who walked the Earth again. You all know about my passion for Theology and my desire to find out what waits for us on the other side, so I promised to look into it. It took a while, but eventually, I heard back from someone"

"Your trip to Carencro," Esme gasped. "You said it was a conference!"

"When was this, I don't remember this?" Carl was holding back no punches in his dramatic reveal.

"It was our semester abroad," that's what Edward like to call the half a year experiment we spent in France. He wanted to see if Bella, him, and I could be a family unit all on our own.

It failed pretty miserably, would never happen again.

"I didn't want to burden you, love. Not unless I knew for sure."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "So what happened?"

Carlisle turned back to us and shrugged.

"I met my informant and they told me to go to this one cafe and ask for Roy. I went there and the manager told me no one with that name worked there"

"So you got pranked," Emmet said.

"I looked around town for a couple of days, and since nothing else came up after my trip to Lousiana, I felt comfortable labeling the whole thing a hoax."

Rosalie scoffed. "And you think that's what's happening here?"

"I think it could be a possibility. This is our only lead"

I thought over what Carlisle just said. Could there really be an afterlife vampires could come back from? And if that was the case, then what happened to Roy? Was Roy even the vampire Elezear heard about?

But most importantly, why now?

"Hey, Alice. Besides James, what else did you see?"

Everyone went quiet and I looked back at them confused.

"I saw us without you"

"I mean, you don't really see me in your visions," I chuckled nervously.

"When I don't see you, it's like I'm looking around something. What I saw...it felt like I would never have to deal with that interference again."

"...Oh"

That didn't sound good.

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Carla Tsukinami (Story 13)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too! I’m an amateur translator, but I hope you do enjoy it anyway!♡

Place: Violet mansion — Garden

Yui: Ah, look there! Here are also small flowers starting to bloom, they are beautiful.

Carla: Oh… how aesthetic. I wish I could frame them in a picture or decorate them somewhere.

Yui: Haha, that would sound great. But, they wouldn’t stay alive if we’d take them away.

Carla: That’s the reason. It would be wasteful to take them away from here.

Yui: (Recently, I got to spend more time with him together)

(Still, we have no information about where Ayato-kun could be, I wonder if Reiji-san did something to them)

(Currently, the situation is pretty stagnant. I have no other choice than wait for any answers)

Carla: But, they did good with their work. These flowers, from far away they look like artifacts from the forest and sky.

These magic powers, they are not owned by any ordinary person.

Yui: Th-That‘s right…

(If you’re looking at this flower field or the landscape, you notice that’s all fake because everything is like a miniature garden)

Carla: It is a pretty frightening magical space… I admire the magic of the person behind this.

Yui: Eh?

Carla: If you could make such a place, you could own your own little picture of hell.

It would be possible to confine anyone in an inorganic, tightly closed room.

But, the night breeze blows and the stars are covering the shadows of the plants. It‘s a really beautiful scene.

Yui: I see… that’s the first time I realized that.

Carla: A painter who could draw a landscape like this, would be difficult to find. What a tragedy that this place doesn’t exists.

Yui: Haha, I agree. If you could find someone who would be able to draw such a place, I‘m sure Carla-san would place it somewhere nice.

Carla: Well, I can‘t hold into such a foolish idea forever.

However… this situation is strange.

Yui: What do you mean?

Carla: From our view, nothing has changed until now. The flowers didn‘t change yet either, they aren‘t fully blooming.

It is as if, the time stopped flowing for now.

Yui: … !

(The time in this space stopped, he is right. That’s why Carla-san‘s disease hasn‘t progressed either)

(Even if I told him about it, Carla-san would still, he‘d still try to get out of this miniature garden)

(But, I—)

Carla: What‘s the matter? Is the night breeze getting too cold for you?

Yui: I-I‘m very sorry… it looks like, I‘m really getting a little cold…

Carla: I see, come here then.

*Carla comes closer*

Carla: I won‘t be able to fully warm you up but…

If you are wrapped up in my arms, you at least have a little wind protection.

Yui: Yes… thank you.

(Like this I‘ll be able to calm down. I feel like my anxiety will melt away)

(But, I still don‘t want us to leave this place… I-I have to decide soon)

(Getting out of this garden, or remain here forever—)

*footsteps appear*

Subaru: You guys, I finally found you!

Yui: Subaru-kun?

Carla: What’s wrong, you are noisy.

Subaru: I‘m not sure either! There were some news from my familiars.

It seems like they found Ayato and Kanato’s location.

Yui: Ayato-kun‘s location… !

Carla: I see, the remaining two from Orange…

That means Laito did well on his reconnaissance again, that’s good.

Subaru: It’s not good at all. They won’t get retaliation this time… it seems like those guys are interacting with Reiji.

Carla: What did you say?

Yui: That is… ! They are fighting alone against Reiji-san!?

That means Ayato and Kanato-kun are in danger… !

Carla: In other words, are you saying that your brothers are fighting each other?

Subaru: …Kinda

*Carla backs off*

Carla: Then, let’s go.

Yui: Yes… !

Subaru: Let‘s go, he says… are you out of your mind or something?

Carla: This is the most reliable way. I’m not going to let Scarlet get away this time.

If I went there for myself, would you be satisfied like this?

Subaru: That‘s not it… in the previous time you only cared about helping Shin.

Everyone one of us is a true vampire. You usually would hesitate to go and save them that’s what I don’t understand.

Carla: Ahh, I understand. You are thinking about my offer of helping some vampires.

…I can‘t deny that this isn‘t my usual way of thinking.

Yui: Not your usual thoughts… what do you mean by that?

Carla: Until now there were only Shin and I, we both did not care about the vampires and offering them help would seem like a mistake.

Yui: Carla-san…

Carla: In addiction, Subaru. Many things were possible because of the hard work you put in here.

If you don’t feel appreciable for this, you know from the bottom of my abilities, that I appreciate your hard work.

Subaru: …It- It‘s not like, I did something specific, I just tried as much as possible.

Carla: In addiction, it doesn‘t matter if I am saving a vampire or founder, everyone deserves to leave this place completely safe.

In the end, we need to bring this useless war to a peaceful end.

Yui: … I agree. There is no need for everybody to fight each other.

We need to immediately stop this fight.

Carla: That’s right… Are we done? Or do you still need a reason?

Subaru: I don’t need any anymore. For real, I never imagined a founder helping someone from a lower race.

To me, this guy has been just crazy since I came back to sanity…

Carla: What are you waiting for? If you want us to go, then guide us there. Did you change your mind about saving your brothers?

Subaru: I understood that! Just follow me tightly then!

Carla: Then, hurry up. Yui, don‘t ever leave my side.

Yui: Yes… !

(I hope we‘re able to make it in time, before someone starts to get hurt… !)

Place: Outside — Riverside

Ayato: Kn… shit!

Reiji: Thanks for the interesting game. But now, we are leading this to an end.

Shu: For those two, to suddenly attack us like they are stronger… how weak.

Ayato: What did you say!?

Reiji: Stop moving. If you move, I will penetrate your heart without hesitation.

Now, the two of you will obviously come to my mansion. After we managed this situation, we will pay a visit to the Violet mansion.

Kanato: Why would I dare to serve someone else like I am your servant!? Your bossy attitude is pretty unpleasant for me!

Yuma: You’re stupid. Even if ya start to become rebellious, don‘t think ya can escape from here.

Kino: For real, those two are troublesome. Right now, why aren’t we disposing those two?

Shu: Hm… ? Wait. I hear someone approaching.

*footstop approaching*

Reiji: Look, look… for you guys to join us as well.

Yui: Reiji-san… everyone…

Subaru: Tch… Ayato, Kanato! You guys really have nothing in your head at all!

Ayato: Hah? Who allowed this asshole to talk in such ways with me!?

Subaru: Shut up, you idiot! You don‘t think about anything, you just break stuff and go trough any trouble!

Yui: Subaru-kun, calm down… !

(But, I don’t want to hold back either… this isn’t how they usually fight, this is something serious—)

(Right now, Reiji and Shu-san are seriously pointing their swords at Ayato-kun… ngh)

Reiji: Conveniently again, you seemed to also brought Eve with you.

Seems like there must be a certain reason why you can’t leave her in your mansion.

That is okay. If this happens, like I am predicting. Eve and I will own the throne soon anyways.

Carla: … You are still living in your fake memories, you don’t need to aim for a fake throne anymore, it is useless.

Yui: Carla-san… !

(The powers… Carla-san is gathering right now…)

Yuma: Hey, this guy, will he use his powers again!?

Kino: These magic powers… damnit!

Carla: Kneel down, in front of my powers!

Kino: Agh!

Yuma: Agh… Kn!? My whole body…

Kanato: Kn… I can‘t stand… what does that mean…

Yui: (Everyone, they are kneeling down!?)

Reiji: What is this strength… ngh!

Carla: I compressed my powers, to make sure I crush every last one of you.

Like this, you won‘t be able to relax easily anymore. Now listen while you lay down on the ground.

The winner of this battle, it is clearly me. You all, must obey and follow me.

Reiji: …Kn… Nn…

Ayato: Who do you think you are… !?

Carla: No matter how much you bark, it is just useless foot scratching for me.

Yui: (Everyone who was on the spot, they are kneeling on the ground and they can’t move…)

(This situation, was handled this instant…)

Carla: What is the matter? Are you complaining about something?

Yui: N-No… I’m just amazed by those powers…

Carla: Hmph… have you already forgotten the strength of my power? The powers of the founders king?

The founders king can not give his name to someone who is not worth it. Wouldn‘t you agree?

Yui: Yes… !

Subaru: Amazing…

Carla: Subaru. Call one of our familiars from the mansion. We need another hand to carry these guys.

Subaru: Y-Yes, I understood. I will immediately call Laito to come here.

Carla: Good enough.

Yui: (If everyone gets caught up in one mansion, there will be no conflicts. This would be nice…)

(But, as nice as it sounds — this can‘t be it… )

(Yet, I still have to decide about the situation which I tried to hide so hard… )

Monologue

After seeing Carla-san‘s overwhelming powers, Reiji-san and everyone else entered the prison.

Of course, Ayato-kun seems to have resisted a lot before entering… But now, everyone is placed in one dungeon.

There are no signs that anyones memories are likely to return. But, that also means, nobody will get hurt anymore.

And I was overthinking about one more thing while stroking my chest.

Now that everyone’s safety is guaranteed, Carla-san is sure to go. To the center of the miniature garden, the church —

Is it really going to make Carla-san happy if we’re going to leave this place?

Place: Violet mansion — Carla’s bedroom

Subaru: Jeez, Ayato that dumbass, for him to start such a rampage at the end.

Yui: You did amazing. How are you feeling?

Subaru: Oh, now that they all are in prison I feel better. Well, there are still people making a fuss.

Carla: Leave those who want to make any noises. However, we need two or more people to have them monitored. We should not take our eyes off them.

Subaru: I know. Right now Kou and Azusa are watching over them.

Yui: Is it okay, that everyone is in one jail cell? As expected, it seems a little cramped…

Carla: There is no other way. It would be troublesome since some are violated.

At the very least, they put an own prison for each house. Like this we can watch the situation safely.

Subaru: Well, they all are pretty tough guys. They shouldn’t die neither give up that easily.

Yui: I wonder if that’s true?

(Well, I’ve been in that dungeon for a pretty long time as well so I think they are going to be… okay?)

Subaru: …By the way…

Carla: What’s it? Is there still something wrong?

Subaru: Well, what. It‘s because you helped those guys for no specific reason.

… You managed to stop them and their stupid fight that instant, I really appreciate it.

Yui: (Subaru-kun, is he thanking Carla-san…?)

Carla: Hmph… I don’t know the reason for your courtesy because you seemed like a child at first, seems like you started growing a little.

Subaru: …What did you!? You asshole, even though I am bowing down, your bossy attitude hasn’t changed!?

Carla: I see, it can’t be said that it is certainly a return without gratitude? Then, I will respond with courtesy.

…I wouldn’t have thought by myself, that I would ever help any kind of vampires.

The two of you, Yui and Subaru changed my decision. It was your presence.

Subaru: Hah? Why me?

Carla: Just awhile ago, there was something so I could not interact with you.

In addiction, maybe I should as well try to accept those who still think I am their brother…

Yui: (Laito-kun … he was the happiest one when it was clear that Carla-san would become the king)

(Even if all of their current memoriesvare fake, they really act like they are brothers—)

Carla: Let me thank you once again. Subaru, I am grateful.

Subaru: Y-You’re acting weird when you look so overwhelmed with feelings!

Shit, I’ll go and check the prison!

*Subaru leaves*

Yui: Subaru-kun, he ran out of here with a total red face…

Carla: That guy is losing his temper, because he can not handle anyone being honest with him.

But, he really is a good man. It is regrettable that I can not use him as my servant.

Yui: The two of you turned out to be friends. Carla-san and Subaru-kun.

Carla: Hmph. I do not intend to deepen my relatives with him. I just admit it more as a master-slave relationship.

Yui: Haha, understood.

(But honestly, I never thought that this day would come)

(Carla-san who is the founders king, changed and helped the Vampires just like they were relatives)

Carla: Now that everyone has entered the jail, the threat of the other families has completely disappeared.

The next goal we must reach, is obviously the church.

Yui: …Ngh!

(Exactly. We still have to find a way out of this whole situation and miniature garden)

(But, once we leave this place Carla-san’s disease will continue to progress as well)

That means, you also want to find a way to restore the memories of everyone in jail?

If everyone would cooperate, it would be much more encouraging!

Carla: Not everyone would be as cooperative as Subaru was. They would get in the way even if their memories would return.

Yui: T…That is…

Carla: Of course, I want Shin’s memories to get back, but right now I can not find any conclusions and we don‘t have enough time for it either.

I am sure we will find out once we look into the church which is the center of this space.

Yui: T-That is…

(Should I stop him now? Or should I proceed as it is?)

Choices

1) — should stop him (black)

2) — should move forward (white) ♡ ♡ ♡

— should stop him

Yui: (After all, I’m still lost. I’m sure I won’t get any answers right away either)

(I know I‘m acting selfish. But I just want a little more time. Carla-san must be stopped…)

— should move forward ♡

Yui: (Maybe we should really go. I mean, it was our main goal from the very beginning)

(But if I’d tell him that his illness would go on once we leave, Carla-san would still leave…)

end Choices

Carla: … Now there is only one thing left behind, before I am able to aim for the church.

Yui: L-Left behind… ?

Carla: Yui. I want to talk with you alone.

Yui: Nn…

Carla: I don‘t want to keep any secrets from you either, that was something you said before, correct?

Now it is the time. Would you insist telling me about your secret?

Yui: (I still don’t have the full courage to face reality)

(I’m sorry, Carla-san. But, it’s still way too confusing for me)

(I don’t want to lose you, I can’t choose the “right” thing myself anymore either—)

[msilet]

Co-op Mission (2/2)

Ship: Merlahad (Harry Hart/Merlin), side ship 00Q (James Bond/Q)

Summary: James Bond is sent over to Kingsman to assist Harry Hart on a mission. James is impressed (and jealous) of all the tech Harry has. Harry is not happy about how much attention James is paying Merlin.

Rating: M

AO3 link in case you want to read there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14502606/chapters/33503520

Chapter 2 summary: Some agent-to-agent bonding (heh) time, some action, some 00Q (because they don't leave me alone), some Merlahad trying to save James from himself and finally, some Merlahad porn.

Story under the cut:

The next morning sees Harry and James standing in front of Merlin, ready for action. After talking to Merlin last night, Harry makes a point of letting go of his prejudice for James, starting with referring to him as "James" in his head. Merlin goes through a last-minute briefing with them to make sure everything goes smoothly. He hands James a classy leather bag, "Here's your rifle. You will have to reassemble it when needed, but seeing there's no other way to walk around Piccadilly Circus while openly carrying a weapon, you'll have to make do. Won't take long, as I showed you." James grins, excited to get this toys. "Did you familiarise yourself with all the other gears as I instructed you to?" James nods and Merlin continues, "Very good, I expect them back in good conditions, if any of them, other than the lighter, is lost or broken, I'm sending MI6 a bill. Clear?"

"I'll try," James tries to look overly innocent, Merlin just raises an eyebrow skeptically.

Merlin turns over to Harry and hands him a Rainmaker. "The target-lock-on speed and sensitivity have been improved, you can fire more accurately and much faster, even without looking in certain cases."

"Thank you," Harry means what he says. He knows that Merlin spoils him rotten by always giving him what he wants and is grateful for it. He notices, as he accepts the weapon, that Merlin has put the wedding ring back on. Merlin tends to take his ring off when he's working with hardware, especially when soldering or installing electrical components. He said he wouldn't want to have a few fingers cut off if he accidentally touches the ring somewhere he shouldn't, which is fair for Harry. Harry doesn't have a lot of chances to wear his either, especially when out on the field, so he doesn't feel like pestering Merlin with such a trivial thing. It's all just symbolism for them anyway, they were together for almost twenty years before getting the rings and no one could say they loved each other any less. He feels like Merlin took the effort to put it on today after what happened last night and he is suddenly hit with a wave of affection for his husband. Now is not the time to cosy up, however. The mission comes first.

Merlin informs them that they will be heading out to the warehouse first and they should probably find a way to avoid anyone seeing them, preferably finding somewhere higher up to hide. The most important task is to find out how many people they have in total, what exactly will be the hazard, if it's a bomb or something else, and how do they plan to execute it. They will decide on the flight whether they should busting the operation and taking down its members immediately. Should Merlin see any sign of the suspects moving to the other location instead, he will inform the two agents to switch course immediately.

An hour and a half later - after the train ride back to the shop, infiltrating the location and planting bugs as well as micro-cameras - they are perched on the rooftop of the warehouse, waiting for the criminals to arrive at the scene. This organisation comes off as a bunch of complete amateurs based on the fact that they don't even have anyone guarding their meeting place in advance. Half an hour until rendezvous time and both agents are bored out of their minds.

"So, Merlin is your quartermaster, and your husband," James casually states while assembling his rifle, constructing the sentence as a statement instead of a question although Harry can feel that James wants a confirmation.

"Affirmative to both, how do you know?"

"I know him. Even when we were kids, he always called me out when I was a petulant little shit, yet he lets you get away with a lot. It surely isn't because you are his boss because both of us aren't the yes-men type. He dotes on you, worries about you. He gave me extensive instruction of where to stand, what to do on the field with you. Then, this morning, he wore his wedding ring, which he didn't yesterday. Doubtless, you must have paid him a visit."

Damn, read like a book, Harry isn't even bothered, just impressed. "Excellent deducting skill. The rumours about MI6's 007 aren't wrong."

"And you thought I was trying to steal away with him to MI6?"

Harry hesitates, it's a bit embarrassing to acknowledge the fact that he was a little jealous. Weighing the options in his head, it feels like the truth is the best choice, as he doesn't think the infamous James Bond, who figured everything else out on his own, is dumb enough to be fooled. He nods.

James snorts, "Don't worry, I have my own."

Harry raises an eyebrow, "A quartermaster, or a husband?"

"Quartermaster. Although," James smiles like he's reminded of some inside joke, "if I bring back all my equipment in peak condition for the next fifty years and avoid pissing him off any further in the meantime, I might be able to mollify him enough for him to marry me."

Harry pretends to be sympathetic, "That bad?"

James thinks for a second then changes the subject, "Did I tell you what a lucky bastard you are? If I were around, I would have given you hell. Merlin is too good for most people."

Harry chuckles, "Glad I didn't have to deal with any disapproving brother, then. And yes, I know full well how lucky I am."

"How did you two go from a professional relationship to, a," James tilts his head, eyes squinted, "personal one?"

Harry looks at his watch, "Hmn, there's still time. Fine, I'll tell you. It started a long time ago," he recalls the old days, "I was headhunted right out of the army, where I did excellently so, of course, I was full of myself. My arrogance became even worse after I was named Galahad. You know, with Galahad being the greatest knight in the Arthurian legends and all."

James nods, pretending to be patient so Harry can get to the good part, where Merlin is concerned. Harry sees right through that and looks amused, "Imagine my dismay when I learned that my handler was a twerp three years younger than I was that also just joined the organisation. It felt like the two expendable fledgelings were lumped together so if they fuck up and die, nothing of value would be lost. I took my frustration out on him because I was a jackass. I repeatedly disobeyed his instruction, going for the most flashy ways of doing things, hoping to impress older knights, not caring about the consequences. I was thinking that I wouldn't let his inexperience get in the way of me proving myself."

Harry grimaces, displeased with his younger self's bravado. "There was a supposedly simple mission. The get in, eavesdrop, steal the thing, get out type. I fucked up badly. I decided that I was good enough to take the whole group alone without prior info. Told Merlin to shut it or I'd destroy the com and went in blind. I got shot and captured like a fucking moron. Merlin put together and commanded a squad of knights to rescue me in record time, not that I knew it then. My pathetic arse was unconscious."

James is surprised by how frank Harry is being. It's rare enough that an agent admits to themselves that they were wrong, let alone being to talk about it with others so freely. It shows a deep level of maturity and security that not many have. Even he is not sure that he can be that candid. Harry still looks exasperated, running his hand through his hair.

"Woke up to see him sleeping in the chair next to my bed in medical. The nurses told me he was checking on me any time he could spare a minute, saying he didn't want me to be the first one lost on his watch. And then I had the gall to blame him for not arming me well enough."

Harry takes a breather, thinking about how to go over the past events at Kingsman without disclosing anything classified. Then, he continues, "Our technology then was nothing like what we have now. Our suits weren't really bulletproof, only more durable than the regular ones we sold to customers. There was no Rainmaker. My weapon was just a shotgun disguised as an umbrella. You literally had to pull the fabric off to reveal a gun. Kingsman was practically stuck in the Middle Ages before he came. He tried his darnedest to pull us forward while still spending most of his time handling agents. And there I was, being a thorn in his side. He took my insults to heart and locked himself away in his office. I started hearing other agents complaining about Merlin not handling their missions. It turned out that he was not only handling me. Many agents, including the senior ones, were working with him and put him down as their preference because he was excellent. That was the moment I realised that I  was the one holding him back."

James, thoroughly engrossed in the story, pushes for more as Harry pauses and checks the video feed for anything abnormal, "So, what happened next?"

Harry intentionally draws the pause out longer just to annoy James a little before he picks the story up where it was left off. "When he finally called me to his office to show off the first ever Rainmaker, I went down on my knees like a good agent and showed him just how much I appreciated him."

James stares at Harry with his mouth open for almost a full minute and Harry basks himself in the pleasure of knowing that he has just gotten Double-Oh fucking Seven to lose his ability to speak. James looks like an owl, waiting for the punchline but slowly realises that Harry is done with the story and he's not bullshitting.

Finally, he blinks. He breathes in, out, blinks again and then exclaims, "Oh my God!"

When Harry just cocks his head, shrugging without saying anything, James continues, "You are a fucking visionary," he waves a hand in front of his eye, "No pun intended."

"Thank you," Harry smirks.

"I bet you have been his favourite agent ever since."

"He married me, so I hope that's true," Harry jokes. After a few minutes of silence, he decides to speak up again, "It's not just that, you know. We have been through so much together. We saved the world countless times. We watched each other die," Harry closes his eye and grimaces at this. Gritting his teeth and opening his eye again with a determined look, he claims, vehemently, "After all that, nothing can separate us anymore."

James hums, understanding what Harry says and can somewhat feel how deep their feelings for each other go. On the one hand, he admires both Harry and Merlin for making it work despite having the kind of jobs that usually destroy any chance of having a stable relationship. On the other hand, he would be lying if he says he's not jealous. His Kingsman counterpart and his oldest friend finding a soulmate in each other in the most unlikely manner and here he is, still just living his life one mission at a time, sometimes wondering if there's anything out there worth fighting, surviving for.

He can't stay maudlin for long because they hear sounds from the entrance of the warehouse. Both agents are instantly alert and ready for action. They look through the screen showing surveillance feeds to see how many are coming.

"Merlin reminds us to stay still. We need intel," Harry whispers.

James nods and stares at the screens. They note down the number of people and anything they find essential. The audio and video will be stored on Kingsman server, of course, but human intuition is still the most trustworthy. They watch patiently as more people trickle in. They all wear standard cheap hoodies to cover their head and ugly baggy pants.

"Criminals these days, no style at all," James complains, Harry nods.

The leader comes forward and yells angrily about how Western society has become weak and insignificant and how the governments are spineless against foreign forces.

"Another day, another dumb-ass and with their extremist view trying to get attention.  I think I've heard this speech at least a dozen times in some variations," Harry sighs, "I don't get how blowing up a bunch of people on the street will make this country great, but here we are."

Both men continue watching calmly until one of the terrorists brings out a girl whose wrists are tied up behind her. "Shit, Merlin, are you seeing this?" Harry whispers into the com.

"Do we engage?" James asks.

Harry holds his hand up to signal James to wait and see what happens next. When it's clear that they don't plan to release her, threatening to hit her with an iron pipe instead, Harry says "Fuck it, let's go," and jumps down. James follows suit.

They land dramatically in the middle of the circle, startling the people around. James points his rifle at them and bark out orders for them to hold their hands above their heads and back off. Unluckily for them, a few terrorists have knives and machetes. Emboldened by their number and their weapons, some start charging at them, causing the rest to follow. "Great call, Arthur," James says sarcastically without turning to look at Harry.

"Give me a few minutes to release her and I will help you."

James starts fighting off the attacking force, choosing not to shoot them just yet. He kicks the knife off a man's hand while slamming the butt of the rifle at another man's face. The next few guys meet the same fate, getting knocked out quickly.

Just as he starts to feel confident that they can get the situation under control without much hassle, one of the terrorists pulls out his gun. A couple others see that and also draw theirs.

"Arthur, anytime this century would be nice!" He really doesn't want to kill them. Causing a mess in the middle of London isn't a smart move and MI6 doesn't want to have to cover it up, especially when the bastards at MI5 are going to complain about overstepping jurisdiction. M and Q repeatedly tried to drill this into his head; they'd be happy to know that he remembers this detail.

"Almost done!" Harry finally managed to pick the handcuff's lock. Now he only needs to cut the ropes tying the girl down to the chair. What he doesn't see is someone from his blind side pointing a gun at him. A loud bang goes off.

For a few seconds, Harry thinks he's fucked. Then the next thought that comes to his mind is that Merlin is going to be very pissed off, judging from his voice that is louder than the ringing in Harry's ears right now. And then he realises that he isn't dead, just pushed violently to the ground with the girl and her chair falling on top of him. Then he hears another body falling heavily next to him, letting out a pained grunt. It's James.

"007, are you alright?" Harry speaks loudly, both for James and to assure Merlin on the com that he's alive.

It takes James a moment to groan and reply. "Fuck, I got shot. Right shoulder. Not going to die but I won't be able to cover you very well."

"I'm almost done, just shoot them."

"Not opening fire at a crowd, Arthur."

"There's a magazine of rubber bullets in your bag, 007! Standard extension for all agents!"

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me before?"

"I thought Merlin told you!"

James curses up a blue streak while pulling out the rubber bullets magazine from his bag and change. He shoots at the terrorists' general direction with his left arm while Harry cuts through all the ropes holding the hostage down to the chair. When he's done, he pulls both her and James up. "Stay behind me!" Harry orders.

Harry opens up Rainmaker and uses it as a shield for James and the girl. He switches the firing mode to stun and shoots at as many in front of him as he can while James covers his sides. "Merlin, we need a cleanup team and evac," he speaks into the com.

When they get to the exit, Harry lets James and the hostage out first while engaging Rainmaker's automatic aiming system and shoot behind him without looking. He slams the door and signals James and the girl to have him push a big crate in front of it to temporarily lock the crazy bastards inside.

The Kingsman getaway car arrives promptly. James lets out a relieved laugh and shouts over his shoulder to the direction of Harry's com, "I fucking love Merlin." After all three of them are seated safely on the car, Harry sighs contentedly, "I fucking love you too, Merlin."

After James comes back from medical and Merlin is done interviewing the relevant parties, the three of them meet again in Harry's office. He sits down behind his desk, his hands clenched in front of him. He observes each agent slowly. Both of them gulp.

Merlin surprises them both by not calling out their recklessness, instead, he opens with "Mission accomplished, gentlemen. We know the location of the explosives and the list of people behind the plan. For someone speaking so tough, those terrorists coughed up information quickly."

"Well, that's good!" Harry acts cheerful, "Isn't it, James?"

James nods and smiles nervously. Merlin is secretly amused, but he knows he can't show it just yet. He leans back in his chair and smirks, "Arthur, do inform me the cause of your unease."

Arthur, this isn't good. Harry sighs, "I disobeyed instruction. We were only supposed to be observing. I jumped in, dragging James with me, causing him to get shot."

"And putting yourself in unnecessary danger," Merlin adds.

"And putting myself in unnecessary danger."

Merlin sighs dramatically. "Are you aware Galahad, Lancelot and Percival would never ignore mission direction like this?"

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Good, make sure it won't happen again, or I'm suspending you from field duty."

When it's clear that the matter is settled, James asks, incredulous, "That's it? That's all you say?"

Merlin shrugs, "What else do you expect me to say?"

"I expected a chewing out!"

"James, Harry is an experienced agent and the head of Kingsman. He knows exactly what the consequences of his actions are."

"Oh my God, you spoil him rotten!" James throws his hands up. "I wish people were that nice to me."

Merlin chuckles, "Speaking of nice, Q is on the way here to pick you up. He's on the underground tube right now."

"How does he get here?" James asks.

"Michael, one of our men at the front, is leading him here."

James mutters something under his breath that sounds like I'm not a child needs picking up but Harry rubs his hands together cheerfully and says, "I can't wait to meet the infamous Q face to face!"

A series of knocks on the door informs them of Q's arrival. Merlin calls for him to come in. Michael opens the door, bows to Q and then retreats back to the underground train, waiting.

Despite his earlier words, James looks remarkably happy when he spots his own quartermaster. "Q! Here you are!" He goes to the younger man and pulls him deeper into the room. "Let me introduce the guys to you. Here," he gestures toward Harry, "Is Harry, or Arthur on the field. He's the head of Kingsman."

Q extends his hand to shake Harry's, "Arthur, a pleasure to meet you face to face."

"Harry, please. As long as we are not on a mission, I don't mind." Harry smiles at Q. Dark hair, slight frame, thick glasses. He looks just like Merlin back in the day, with longer hair. God, he even wears clothes somewhat similar to Merlin's. Harry wonders if he also likes tea. Do they make quartermasters at the same factory?

James doesn't let Q linger long on Harry, however, excited to introduce him to Merlin. "This is Eachann, but call him Merlin, he prefers it. Merlin is Kingsman's quartermaster, like you."

Q sighs, slightly embarrassed, "I know, Bond. I've talked to him."

Before he can come shake Merlin's hand, James continues. "Merlin and I have been the closest of friends since we were kids. He's amazing! If I knew he was with Kingsman, I probably would have followed him."

A flash of something like annoyance or, dare Harry assume, jealousy, appears on Q's face before he schools his expression back to neutral. Harry realises, for someone so famous for his seduction skill, James can be as dense as a rock. He just went and put his foot in his mouth.

Before James can make the situation any worse by showing off Kingsman's tech to Q, Merlin cuts in. "James, stop joking. We know how loyal you are to MI6." He reaches over to shake Q's hand, appearing as friendly as he can. "Q, I'm glad to finally meet you in person. James said a lot of great things about you."

"Did he now?" Q glances over to an oblivious and still smiling James.

"Of course, Q. You are a genius!" Just as Harry and Merlin relax a little, James continues, "But Merlin spoils Harry so much. He made Harry an amazing gun and shield combo called Rainmaker, Harry even has an exploding lighter! You never gave me an exploding pen."

Harry and Merlin both sigh inwardly and glance at each other. They communicate silently that they should just watch how this unfolds.

"007, do you even know how many weapons I have made or modified for you and then you destroyed them right after? Do you even remember all the tech you've wrecked? You left a three million pounds Aston Martin prototype at the bottom of a canal, for God's sake!"

"Oh my God, three million pounds." Harry and Merlin whisper to each other. "He almost got us fooled."

"And you never listened to me! Look at you, getting injured again." Q pokes at James' shoulder, making him hiss. "You were supposed to get fit for field work, not more injured."

Harry raises his hand, wanting to intervene, but James already beats him to the punch. "They were going to shoot Harry in the head!" He says hotly, "I wouldn't let any of them kill Merlin's husband."

Q is momentarily shocked, then he deflates. Merlin reaches out and put his left hand on Q's shoulder, meaning for Q to see his ring. "I can confirm, this wasn't James' fault. He saved Harry's life. If anything, we owe him a great deal."

Q looks up first to look at Merlin, then at James, who's looking both like a petulant child and a scolded puppy, which is quite a feat, considering who he is. Q's eyes soften, all the anger dissipated. "In that case, I'm sorry for blaming you, Bond." James nods. "Sorry for doing this in front of you guys," Q smiles awkwardly, finally realises what a scene he was causing before.

Harry tells him it's no matter. Merlin smiles and says he can sympathise with Q perfectly, having to run a kindergarten for spies as well. Harry and James protest but he shoots both of them down.

Wanting to steer the topic back on track, Merlin indicates for them all to take a seat. Merlin sits next to Harry on the couch while James and Q each occupies an armchair.

"Q, despite some minor hiccups that stemmed from our side, I would say this mission was a success," Merlin says, then turns to Harry. "Do you think so too?"

Harry catches on to what Merlin is doing immediately, "I agree. And James played a big part in that outcome," Harry nods at James. "Thank you for pushing me out of danger."

James shrugs, "It was the right thing to do."

"And thanks to you and this mission, I think Kingsman is ready to form a stronger working relationship with MI6. We are willing to run more co-op missions with you as well as exchanging a certain amount of intelligence," Merlin announces and Harry nods.

Q is taken aback. When he and M started contacting Kingsman, they didn't expect much. Being able to confirm that they are not a secretly evil organisation planning to take over the world was already considered a success for them.

"Another thing," Merlin smiles, "If MI6 wants to order bulletproof suits like what our agents wear for the Double-Oh program, we are willing to do business."

"Are you serious?" Both James and Q ask at the same time.

"There will be certain conditions, of course. You are not supposed to abuse our suits to harm weak, innocent people, for example. We will be keeping tab."

"Fair enough, I will relay the message to M." Q nods, still in disbelief.

"Tell him that the cost for James' suits will be on the house, he did save our Arthur, after all."

"Merlin, you are the best person in the world!" James declares dramatically.

"I remember distinctly how you called me the worst person in the world back in the day," Merlin grins.

"You told me you laced my food with laxatives! I didn't dare to go anywhere for two days straight!"

James' scandalised expression and tone make Q start giggling. Harry tries to act calm for a few seconds but ends up chuckling anyway. He can imagine a young, pissed off Merlin pulling that move.

James shakes his head. "I'm glad you people find it amusing."

"That's it, the next time you ruin my tech, I'm going to put actual laxatives in your food," Q declares.

"Merlin! Do you see," James turns to Merlin and gestures at Q, "This is workplace bullying!"

Merlin just smirks at James and goes to Harry's desk, retrieving James' suitcase and his tray of tech. Instead of letting James have them back, he hands them to Q instead. "Here, I guess these are yours."

"All in perfect condition," James cuts in, smiling. "The gun too," He pats the Walther PPK at his side.

Q rolls his eyes but not saying anything to James, choosing to thank Merlin instead. "Much appreciated, Merlin. As much as I love hearing the stories, we have to get back to MI6 as soon as possible. We should do this again sometimes."

Both Merlin and Harry nod and stand up to see James and Q off. "Michael will bring you back to the shop."

They exchange pleasantries, James hugs Merlin and makes him promise they'll meet again and then goes outside with Harry.

Q is about to walk out as well but Merlin places a hand on his elbow to keep him back. Q looks up quizzically.

"Q, I apologise if we, I mean, if I troubled you with my handling of James. I love him like a brother and after not seeing him for so long, I might have tried to impress him with too many toys. I didn't mean to undermine your authority."

Q looks taken aback for a second, then smiles sincerely. "Thank you, I'm not awfully bothered but I appreciate the sentiment."

"James may come off as a dick sometimes, but he's a good man. He's been like that since we were kids. Please don't take his aloofness to heart."

Q nods, bids Merlin goodbye and follows the other two out the door.

When Harry comes back to his office, Merlin is still there, sitting on the couch. He smiles and sits down next to Merlin.

"Interesting two days, don't you say?"

Merlin nods, chuckling to himself.

"Share your amusing thought with the class, maybe?"

"Those two. If James doesn't bollock it up, I don't think it'd take another fifty years."

"I'd give them ten."

"Ten? That's generous of you. I'd say five."

"Let's bet on it then."

"I'm game," Merlin grins, "Just hope James won't get fired for sexual harassment after some hare-brained schemes to follow your footsteps."

Harry laughs out loud. He doesn't think James would do something that stupid but that's an amusing mental image.

"Worked for us, didn't it?"

"Not everyone is us. It was also awfully convenient for you that I had a massive crush on my most annoying agent."

Harry fake awws and Merlin rolls his eyes.

"Maybe it's just my brilliant plan to recruit him for Kingsman," Harry suggests.

"Oh please, I've had enough headaches and heart-attacks with you and Eggsy. I'm overworked and under-appreciated as is, thank you very much."

Harry shifts closer to Merlin and nuzzles his jaw. "Quartermaster, I appreciate the hell out of you."

Merlin tills his head, giving Harry more access, "Oh, really?"

Harry hums, opting to use his mouth on more exciting activities, such as kissing and nipping Merlin's neck. His hands wander to more interesting places than his own laps as well, such as Merlin's lower back and his abdomen. Both hands manage to sneak under the layers of Merlin's clothes so Harry can feel his husband's skin directly. He makes a happy sound when he hears Merlin sighs contentedly.

After being satisfied with the state of Merlin's neck, Harry moves back up to pull him in for a proper kiss. It's been days since he was able to get more than a quick peck from the other man and he has to make up for lost time. Merlin returns the kiss with fervour, missing Harry just as much. After a while, Harry pulls back and Merlin growls slightly, trying to chase after him.

"Shh..." Harry smiles fondly, "Let me show you my appreciation, alright?"

Merlin nods, knowing where exactly this will go. They have been here before, more than once. Harry rubs his cheek against Merlin and gives him another quick kiss before getting off the couch to kneel in front of him. He starts rubbing up and down Merlin's thighs - what's left of them - slowly, eye focusing on his husband's endearing face. Merlin arches a challenging eyebrow and Harry grins in reply. He starts nuzzling the still covered thighs with his nose, getting closer and closer to where they both know the real destination will be. Merlin moves both his hand onto Harry's head, playing with his ears and oh-so-precious hair and Harry hums in satisfaction.

When Merlin wants to speed things up by removing his hands from Harry's head to open his trousers button, Harry grunts, takes hold of both wandering hands and put them back on his head, where he likes them. Finally having mercy on Merlin, Harry reaches up and undo the button himself, but then he pulls the zipper down really, really slowly.

"Oh for God's sake, Harry-" Merlin cuts himself off with a groan when Harry pulls the rest of the fly down quickly and starts rubbing the boxer-covered budge inside the way he knows Merlin likes it.

"What were you saying?"

"Shut up and continue doing that."

"Yes, Quartermaster. Always telling me what to do." Harry pulls down both the trousers and the boxer, Merlin lifts his hip up to help him. Keeping eye-contact, Harry wets his lips and grins when he sees Merlin visibly gulping. He loves how after so many years together, their desire for each other still burns as bright as it used to back then. Not wasting any more time teasing, Harry sets himself to work. His experience and enthusiasm quickly drives Merlin to the edge, the other writhing under him and gripping his hair. When he feels the tugging becoming more insistent, he knows that Merlin is close. He hums and nods slightly, as much as having a cock down one's throat would allow. Soon enough, Merlin is coming and Harry greedily swallows it all down. He daintily wipes his mouth with his pocket-handkerchief, put it back and look up cheekily at Merlin.

Merlin pulls his husband right back up and plunders his mouth, not caring about the taste of himself. He's used to it, after all. His hands sneak over to Harry's refined behind and pull him on top of him without breaking the kiss. Then, one hand moves back up to Harry's hair to mess it up some more while the other moves to the tented front of his trousers to open it. Harry pulls back.

"Not right now, darling."

"Hmn?"

Harry leans closer to Merlin's ear and whisper, "This was me showing my appreciation for my handler," Merlin can feel Harry smiling at his own pun. "Come home with me now and I will show you how much I appreciate my husband." He nips at Merlin's earlobe for good measure.

"That sounds like an offer I can't refuse. Let me check-"

"Everyone is done with their missions and they won't be back until tomorrow, love. Everything else can wait. You are overworked. Let's go, I'll make it worth your while. I'll even cook your favourite for dinner." Harry whispers and kisses the top of Merlin's nose.

"Very well, the world can wait a day," Merlin smiles. Harry kisses him again before standing up.

 Epilogue:

Merlin has no idea why all his agents start bringing him presents from their missions. Galahad brings him all kinds of new tech prototypes the "kids these days" will be using. Lancelot is making his tea collection growing out of control. Tequila brings him all kinds of exotic alcohol from all over the world. Even Percival gifts Merlin vinyl copies of his favourite music. Although, Harry is still his favourite agent.

Two years later, James finally asks Q to marry him. To his and nobody else's surprise, Q says yes. James has no idea why Merlin looks smug as fuck at the wedding. Sometimes, having spies as friends is exhausting but he loves them anyway.

Author’s note:

Harry. It was Harry who told everyone to bring Merlin gifts.

James totally pocketed the exploding lighter, but don't tell anyone that. It's a secret between us and him!

Also this was my first time writing porn, if there's something wrong please don't be too harsh :P

[djseaward]

back from USA + 10 things i love about home

hi friends, happy september. i feel like i'm just guiltily creeping back to writing after being m.i.a. for about a month because holy heck, it's been a month. i've been back in the czech republic for just a couple days now and errrmahgerd, i am still jet-lagged as a mofo -- this has got to be one of the worst instances of it i can recall. (case in point: it's 9:15am on a saturday morning and i've already read, taken the dog out, had breakfast, read some blogs, then lounged around while loudly complaining about how tired i am)

we just completed a five week trip across four states, and though i've had an excellent time, let me tell you -- this was much more of a trip vs. a vacation. starting in chicago, then had a bit of downtime over our ten days in michigan, onto a whirlwind wedding week and a road-trip through oregon (more on that soon!), and finally, a fantastic 2+ weeks spent in my home state of washington, from seattle to bellingham; mountains to the islands. social visits were one of the top priorities (as any expat visiting home knows well) as it really feels like you're trying to make up for being gone for (in my case) two years. wonderful, exhausting, and so necessary. so here i am now, lounging with my dear pup (who was off at “doggy summer camp”), finally getting in that relaxing. but just at the wrong times.

one thing that you don't expect about visiting home is how exactly you will feel in any given step of the way, and i had a lot of firsts on this second visit home in five years of living in europe. the first thing i didn't expect: how dark my thoughts were about leaving europe as i was on that flight to chicago. sleep deprivation always exacerbates these feelings, but it's true -- i was apprehensive. which makes the next thing i didn't expect even more surprising: when i was in washington, it was as if i had accepted, "welp, i guess i live here again now!" when i got down to the "one more week" mark, i had to consciously convince myself that this isn't where i live right now and that i would be going home in a week.

home. such a weird concept, and even weirder to have more than one home. to call another place home while you are in your real home.

packing up and leaving was so hard this time around. in the spirit of keeping things honest around here, it was the least excited i have ever been to board an airplane bound for europe, just as in the beginning, i had felt the complete opposite. feelings are weird, guys.

i don't know what this means, but i am looking forward to getting back in the swing of things again here in my czech home. as i mentioned above, our ferdie came back to us on friday and BOY, was he excited to see us. i had (naively, perhaps) expected it would take him at least a little bit to get used to us and our house again.... but as soon as the little bugger saw us, he started wagging his tail uncontrollably and that made me just so happy. he hasn't left my side ever since -- it goes without saying that the first time i have to leave him at home is not going to go well.

so while i'm still in the "visiting home" mode, i wanted to write a list of ten things i totally appreciated/loved about being in my american home in the pacific northwest -- my true home, so to speak. i think it will be nice to look back on sometime, just as this list i made years ago of ten things i love about living in české budějovice would seem pretty relevant right now. this list isn't meant to compare my two homes, but to show my appreciation for these little things that i never thought i would care so much about.

#1: the mountains

the first time i had a glimpse of hills even resembling mountains on this trip (in portland), i swooned. but the mountains up north are even more gasp-inducing for me. how lucky that people get to look at them every day.

#2: the lakes

currently, it takes about a two hour train trip to visit a natural lake (not to be confused with the plentiful but man-made fish ponds in the south bohemia area). back in washington, there are 8+ on my hometown island alone. that is insane.

#3: the beaches

the number one thing i miss this most -- the ocean. beaches are so plentiful back home that i could potentially visit a different one every day i was back in washington and still have some left over... which is something i actually tried to do, thinking that perhaps i may get so tired of beaches that i wouldn't care anymore. hah.

#4: karaoke

although there is, of course, karaoke to be had in europe, i appreciate american karaoke nights more than ever for these reasons: people actually listen to each others' songs as you would watch any other performance and everyone is very supportive of one another. also, gosh, sometimes it just feels nice to sing along to 'sweet caroline' with everyone else in the bar. as someone recently pointed out to me, it is such a fun form of creative expression; especially the fact that most singers are amateurs and seeing what they come up with while they are performing is sometimes just downright magical. (oh, i'm looking at you, guy who left the bar with the cordless mic just to run back in and make a grand entrance at the beginning of each one of your songs... you keep doing you)

#5: english language

i'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but i was so relieved to be only around english language this summer. maybe it was some kind of burnout from studying two languages simultaneously over the past year, but it was more than a little bit of a relief to be able to understand everything i read and all the product labels; to be able to communicate without awkwardness or issue.

#6: oddly, a break from politics

during my time in the united states, some weird shit went down. actual nazis in the streets of american cities; our president embarrassingly doing nothing to specifically denounce the rally participants, not to mention north korea and the united states on seemingly the brink of serious conflict. and yet... and yet... almost nobody back home talked about or wanted to discuss these things. it's clear that (for better or worse) many people and most that i’ve encountered in the united states are absolutely politically fatigued at this point.

on an almost daily basis living in the czech republic, i end up fielding questions much more often from people who want to know what the hell is going on, which gets so mentally exhausting, to be honest. (also: we have no idea what’s going on) back home, nobody wanted to talk because nobody knows what to say anymore. we, living under this crazy regime together, are all aware of it. there is just sort of an unspoken agreement, and sometimes it's just nice not to have to talk about it. i know this seems kind of a controversial thing to say, but to spend my energy on something else for awhile was, for the time being at least, a welcome reprieve.

#7: driving while listening to music

on a much more light-hearted and less political note, man! the feeling up listening to your favorite tunes cranked up while driving somewhere is just one of the best. and i don't even really like driving that much. i found an old stash of CDs of my old college radio shows and it was toooo much fun.

#8: getting lost in a forest

so what if that forest was almost literally across the street from our house? (fidalgo island has quite large swaths of protected forest lands) we were back in time to watch bachelor in paradise, so i think all’s well that ends well.

next time: bringing a compass.

#9: the seafood

like the beaches, i was attempting to eat so much seafood during my time home that i got sick of it. which of course, didn't actually happen but man, we did some work! multiple servings of fish and chips with the crispiest batter (and malt vinegar! there must be malt vinegar always!), fried prawns and oysters, freshly cooked prawns and learning how to shuck raw oysters. even raw clams! halibut! salmon! i did myself proud here, hoping that should hold me over for awhile. and if that doesn't, the smoked salmon i brought back might ease the pain. (photo via)

#10: shopping

the last and less obvious of the ten things i loved about being back home: the amount of products available on the market is just staggering. and exciting. i would go to stores just to browse and see what was new; see what i missed. some of the things i brought back with me this time: alllll the burt’s bees products (which are not yet available in cz - but i have heard are in germany - can anyone confirm?), gochujang paste, loads of tea (my pukka stash is more robust than ever), trader joe's dried chili mango slices, mrs. meyer's soap (i am obsessed with the lavender one), cheese cloth (can't find it here!), & of course, always annie's mac and cheese. you know how i do.

i saw that TSA had a look into my luggage on the way back -- must have been pretty perplexed by a backpacker lugging home over a pound’s worth of organic brown rice syrup. (shrug)

what is one of your favorite things about home? anything that you missed but didn't expect to?

this post is a part of the september travel link-up & wanderful wednesday.

ps, you might like ten things i love about my current home in české budějovice, czech republic.

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story): Chapter Fifteen- Legacies

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

Comments are always appreciated! If you prefer, you can also visit:

Archive of Our Own

Fanfiction Dot Net

Legacies

15 ATC. Rakata Prime.

If it was uninhabited, this would be a beautiful planet. The view from the landing zone, white sand beach and pristine water as far as she can see, makes her wish for a bathing suit and a drink with a little umbrella in it. The pieces of wreckage do rather spoil the scenery, though, and if her experience on Tatooine is anything to go by she’s guessing the natives aren’t friendly.

Still, Nine strips down to her undershirt while she waits to review the mission parameters, letting the sun shine on her shoulders. It’s hot, after all, the warmth a pleasant change from the chill breeze of Manaan; maybe she’ll even manage a hint of a tan. (Probably not. Probably sunburn and more damned freckles, but one can hope.)

She’s also pretty sure, as she bends to lay her jacket on the Nightshrike’s steps, that that ��pub agent’s staring. When she looks back over her shoulder his sightline flicks upward about two degrees, settling on her back holster.

Definitely staring. Hm.

“My eyes are up here, Republic.”

He blinks, then gestures toward the small of his own back. “Just looking at your holdout.”

“My holdout. Really.” She turns fully around, drawling out the words in amusement. “Assessing my weaknesses?”

Theron- she should use his name, since the four of them seem to be stuck together for the time being (a Sith Lord, a Cipher, an SIS agent and a Wookiee- a list that ought to end with “walk into a bar,” really)- shrugs. “Let’s call them limitations, if we’re pretending to be friendly. Don’t you worry you can’t draw it left-handed?”

“Very diplomatic of you. But,” she says, lifts her right hand and waves at him as she twists her left behind her back, drawing the little blaster and bringing it forward for him to see, “limitations are for amateurs. Modified release. And a centered holster gets in the way of my rifle.”

That might have been a nod of approval; not exactly a chatterbox, him. “Fair. I’m ready when you are, by the way.”

She crosses back over to where he’s standing, looks over the planned route on the map projected onto the side of Jakarro’s ship. “I didn’t realize there were still this many Rakata alive.”

“Outside of this planet, there aren’t. There were more a few hundred years ago, from what I’ve read, when Revan was here. But ever since the Star Forge was destroyed this place has been pretty much off limits.” Theron gestures toward one of the larger pieces, a colossal shard of twisted metal at least a quarter-kilometer long. Three whole sentences in a row- that’s the most he’s said since they all left Manaan. She might actually be winning him over. “They’re dying off, little by little.”

“Normally I’d call that hypocrisy,” she says, “but given the first Rakata I met tried to turn an entire research base into cybernetic slaves, I’d call it good riddance. And didn’t Revan want to use the Star Forge? It looks an awful lot like he blew it up.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t know the story, clearly.”

“Not really, no. I know Revan was a Jedi and then a Sith and then a Jedi again, and then he tried to kill the Emperor and ended up imprisoned for three hundred years.” Until you idiots let him out and he tried to build another army, she doesn’t say. She’d read some of the Revan dossier, years ago, but they were focused on weaknesses then, not deep details of the man’s biography. “We don’t focus on Jedi history much.“

“That’s-” he clearly wants to add something more, but bites his lip- “that’s the very short version, yeah. You’re missing a pretty big chunk out of the middle. But no, he tried to use it the first time. The second time he came back to- he destroyed it, that time, so it wouldn’t be used.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Like I said, Jedi history’s not my thing.”

He shrugs and turns back to the map as Lana comes striding down the exit ramp.

“Are you ready, Cipher?” Lana, too, looks to the map. “Feel free to bring whichever of your crew you prefer. Jakarro’s agreed to be our distraction, so he’ll be heading out momentarily. I’ve tracked Darth Arkous and Colonel Darok to the temple complex here-” she points- “which is your destination. On arrival, confirm target presence and activity.”

“Wait. I thought we were all moving on the temple together. If they engage I’m going to need more than a two-man team, especially with a Darth in play.”

“Avoid direct engagement unless absolutely necessary. Jakarro will be nearby, and we’ll be monitoring you from the shuttle here and providing remote support. We need to figure out what they’re doing before we decide on a plan of attack.” Lana continues marking points of interest with careful swipes of her finger along the projection: the temple and an adjacent courtyard; a few villages along the shoreline; further inland, a stone circle with-

She eyes the map dubiously. “Is that a rancor?”

“Yup.” Theron reaches across and adds sharp claws and pointed teeth to the drawing. “Also recommend not engaging the rancor. Take the long way around.”

“Noted.” She flips him off and turns back to the Sith Lord. “Seriously, though, I’d be happier with a four-person team. I can only cover two with my generator, but can’t Theron-”

He shakes his head. “I don’t have stealth equipment with me. If you’re going in cloaked, you’re better off letting me slice from here.”

She arches an eyebrow at that. If he was involved in the Republic’s strike on Korriban in anywhere near the same capacity Lana had been for Tython he must be fairly high up the food chain, but he’s not dressed like it; as far as she can tell he’s got two pistols and probably a holdout but no longer-range guns, no decent melee weaponry, no poison, minimal armor and now no stealth. She’d pulled his dossier on the way from Manaan, though it didn’t tell her much- he’s been active a few years longer than her so he’s probably a few years older, but no codenames, a few vague links to old missions but nothing concrete which means either he’s never gotten caught or, if he did, he killed his captors. If that’s how the SIS supply their elites, no wonder she’s run circles around every ‘pub agent she’s ever met.

(Hunter didn’t count.

Hunter wasn’t SIS. And in the end, when she slipped her collar, broke free of the leash Hunter used to drag her by, she put a round straight through that bitch’s head.)

“Your people don’t give you much in the way of kit, do they?” Glancing in his direction again, she gives his gear another once-over. “You- oh, dear. You are a field agent, aren’t you? Not that there’s anything wrong with data analysis, of course, but-”

“I am not,” he narrows his eyes at her, lip curling in irritation, “a desk jockey. I can handle myself just fine.”

“Oh, I bet you can.” She grins. The expression on his face is somehow familiar- she’s sure they’ve never met before, but he reminds her of someone that she can’t quite place. It’ll come to her eventually, she’s sure.

(Lana giggles.

Oh, shut up, you.)

She ends up bringing Temple; she can still use more practice with stealth and Lana and Theron keep promising, even as they finalize the route and Jakarro takes off along the path toward the first village, that it’s just a scouting mission. She hooks the little camera over her ear, connecting the cable to her transmitter so they’ll have visual. Get in, report, hold position. Easy.

So of course it goes to complete shit less than an hour in.

The attack on the village should have drawn the Rakata guards off the shoreline path. They should have all been chasing Jakarro by now, but instead they’re fortifying the watchposts with more guards and trained beasts, fleeing the villages like cowards but running straight into her path at the same time. She and Raina get past the first two by skirting along the water’s edge but the third’s a problem- they’ll either have to wade and risk being heard, or try to get up over a rock outcropping that takes them dangerously close to the beasts.

She signals; Temple nods, and she draws her pistol and her knife, just in case, as they head up over the rocks.

They would have made it. Halfway past the guards a little sliver of loose stone goes sliding down the cliff face, though, and hearing the noise one of the creatures turns its head, takes a deep sniff- and looks straight at Temple, growling. The Rakata beside it huffs and raises a hand.

They freeze, too late.

She shoves her down as an arc of lightning takes a chunk out of the ledge above their heads and the debris breaks their stealth field. After that it’s messy, six Rakata and four warbeasts between the two of them, and even as she gets her generator up again and they wade into the sea to try to purge the scent of blood from their armor she can hear alarm klaxons sounding all the way up the coast.

“The coast route’s a no-go.” She hisses into her transmitter. “We’re blown. Requesting extraction plan from Watchpost Gamma.”

“I’m not so sure. The main complex is still quiet.” Lana answers back, her tone less confident than her words. “The alarm doesn’t appear to have reached them yet. Keep going.”

She pulls Temple into an alcove as a patrol team moves past their position. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this op. Reroute me, but I’d be ready to move in if I were you.”

“Take the right-hand path from your position,” Theron chimes in. “It’ll take you inland.”

“Past the rancor.”

“Right through it.” He sounds entirely too smug. “Unless you don’t think you can handle it?”

He’s trying to goad her, of course- it’s the favorite pastime of rival agencies since the dawn of the modern age, when they’re not actively trying to kill each other- and she isn’t going to fall for it that easily. Beside her, Temple rolls her eyes. Cocky bastard, she mouths, and she grins and nods agreement. “Watch and learn, Republic. Watch and learn.”

One can’t sneak past a rancor, not really. It’s got far too keen a sense of smell and even after their quick salt-water bath there’s still enough blood and enough sweat in their armor for a hunting species to pick up. The best she can hope for, then, is to turn the surroundings to her advantage; she gives Raina and her sniper rifle a boost up onto one of the standing stones around the ring where the creature prowls.

Still hidden, she creeps from the shadow of one stone to the next, gets back behind and downwind of the rancor and raises her knife, signaling up for the first shot as the field around her flickers out and-

She catches sight of the Rakata chief out of the corner of her right eye just before he closes on her and has just enough time to duck; his staff whips through the air above her head and she dodges, rolling forward through the rancor’s legs. A rifle shot takes it between the eyes and it roars, stomping, as she dives forward again.

“You could have mentioned the clan chief.” She has to shout to be heard over the bellowing as she peers around a pillar, launches a shock dart straight at the charging figure.

“Hold on-” Theron again, accompanied by a very loud metallic bang- “Lana’s meditating again, and I lost visual for a sec there. What are you- oh. Well, you’ve got him contained now, right?”

“For the next ten seconds, at least.” She gets around the Rakata as his limbs twitch. Her knife can’t cut through the ceremonial collar at his neck so she slashes at the backs of both legs before he can turn. “Are you two trying to get me killed?”

(Of course we weren’t, Lana huffs indignantly. It wasn’t well-scouted, yes, but-

I realize that now, she grins. But I didn’t have the best track record with SIS or the Dark Council at that point, remember. For all I knew, someone had put both of you up to taking me out.

I suppose you have a point.

She shoves another biscuit into Lana’s mouth. Of course I do. Now stop interrupting.)

“Don’t be-” he sighs. “Look, we’ll have better intel when you get to the temple. I’ve got about three-quarters of their the surveillance system sliced and I’m working on the last few now.”

The chief’s slower now, at least, staggering around and toward her as a flash off Temple’s rifle sight warns her out of the line of fire. “You’d better. I don’t do suicide missions.”

The shot, unlike her blade, gets through the collar just fine, and with no further distractions the rancor, too, goes down in relatively short order. It’s a shame they haven’t got time to take the teeth and claws- the last time she fought a rancor she’d had Vector and Doctor Lokin go over the corpse; Lokin had needed rancor bile for his research, for whatever reason, and they’d sold the sharp bits at the Mandalorian Enclave for a pretty sum- but the noise of its death has drawn a crowd, a tight phalanx of guards approaching over the rise of the hill.

Just in time, her generator recharges, and they sneak carefully away toward the temple complex.

The building itself is massive in a way that reminds her more of Korriban than Dromund Kaas. The courtyard fans out around the temple in all directions, great stone steps drawing one’s eye up to the high spire in the center, flanked by rough-hewn statues of a masked and hooded figure.

Revan. Fucking Revan, again.

When they’d raided the Foundry the rest of the strike team swore up and down that Revan had died. (Herself, she’d gotten thrown head-first into a pillar and spent the last moments of that desperate fight in stunned semi-consciousness. Not her finest moment.) He couldn’t have survived it, they said, all that lightning, even though he hadn’t left a body behind- that sometimes happened, apparently, with particularly powerful Force-users. His dream of a droid army, at least, had been quite thoroughly quashed.

They’re trying to build an army too, this group of conspirators, so she supposes it makes sense they’d end up here. Their plans on Manaan had failed- Rakata technology there, as well- and there must be some functionality left in that ancient temple. Was that what they’d been looking for in the archives on Korriban and Tython? Maps to ancient places, long lost to living memory. Places like the Foundry, like the Star Forge that used to fill the sky here…

But why?

Theron’s voice in her ear derails her train of thought. “Hey. I’ve got visual on the temple and… um. Did you bring any ion grenades with you?”

“Only two.” She pauses. “It’s cyborgs again, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Augmented soldiers in a cordon around the entrance. Human, this time, but the tech looks a lot like what you described from the underwater facility.”

“How many?”

Silence for a moment, then- “Four? No. Six, and one in heavier armor.”

She sighs.

“Too many?”

“I’ll manage. Where’s Jakarro?”

“Close,” Theron says. “But loud. You get backup or surprise, not both.”

That’s an easy choice. “Surprise, always. Keep him clear.” He knows the protocols, she hopes, or they’re all in trouble. “Requesting radio silence.”

“Copy that. Await your all-clear.” The channel clicks off. Not entirely useless, then. Good.

The heads-up did help. She gives Raina the second grenade and they split off a hundred meters out, the range on their synchronized generators just enough to let them flank the cordon from each side of the wide staircase; the grenades drop all the soldiers, their augmentations overloaded and sparking, leaving just the commander- who, of fucking course, has a rocket pack and another six cyborgs-

No. Another dozen cyborgs, in two separate waves.

Still, she manages. She always manages, though there’s a long scorch mark across her chest where she got too close to the commander’s downdraft by the time they’re done and Raina’s got a graze along her left thigh that’s left her limping. As the other woman presses a kolto autoinjector against her leg, the needle triggering with a soft hiss, her earpiece chimes, then chimes again.

“I thought I called silence, Theron.” Now that they’ve a moment to rest her left shoulder’s hurting, too, a dull wrenching ache, and she rolls it backward and forward. “And it was eighteen Void-damned cyborgs, not six, so you’d better have good news for me or I am really going to be very cross.”

“I’m afraid it’s more bad news, Cipher.” Lana sounds strange, distracted, her words slurring together. (I remember that. I had a terrible headache, Lana says. I was hearing Revan even then, but I didn’t know it… it was just a roar. Like sticking your head in a turbine.) “Arkous knows you’re coming, and they’ve got a shuttle on the roof. You may have to engage after all- we can’t afford to let them escape again.”

“You’re on your way, I hope.”

“Yes, but-”

She flicks the tip of the transmitter with her fingernail and gets twin yelps in reply, which serves them right because they’re going to get her killed and she is not going to die here, not today. “Let me guess- but you’re not sure you can get here in time.”

“No. We can get there, but Darok just fired up the turrets and I can’t get into that part of the security grid remotely. Going to need a distraction to be able to land near the tower.” Theron’s still trying to slice in, probably, given the amount of clicking in the background.

“How lethal of a distraction?”

“The goal is still live capture, if at all possible,” Lana says, her voice a little clearer.  

She grumbles under her breath. She can hear Jakarro across the courtyard, so it’ll be three on two (the droid doesn’t count); those still aren’t ideal odds, though if she can foist Darth Arkous off on the Wookiee… well. It’s something. “Oh, all right. Shall I do it without armor, too? It’ll be an extra challenge, if you’re going to handicap me anyway.”

That earns an unamused huff from Lana, and, over the continued terminal noise, a muttered I’ve got cameras on top of the tower, right?

“You’re still transmitting, Theron. Moving to intercept.”

She imagines him blushing as she and Raina and now Jakarro, too, bounding up the steps four at a time behind them, fight their way through the entrance to the main temple, through the halls and up the turbolift to the shuttle platform.

In the end it didn’t matter.

Darok and Arkous were never going to surrender, never going to let themselves be taken alive, and she kicks herself for not suspecting the Revanite connection sooner; it explains so easily how they’d ended up here, following in the footsteps of a dead fool, though the Revanites had deeper roots than she’d imagined. She thought they’d stomped out the last of that heresy years ago, when she’d exposed the leader of their cell on Dromund Kaas- but she’d never followed that through, distracted as she was by the destruction of Jadus’ Dominator. Clearly, at least a few of the rats had dodged the trap.

She’d left her transmitter wide open while they’d fought, and as Jakarro gives Darok’s body one last ferocious kick she slumps against the rooftop console to nurse her bruised ribs and get the perimeter guns powered down. Opening the holoterminal and a slicing channel, she catches her breath as Theron and Lana flicker into view, side by side.

“You heard all that, I hope?”

“Heard and felt- the colonel is dead, too? I sensed Darth Arkous’ passing.” Her expression dour, Lana shakes her head. “It’s a shame they wouldn’t say any more.”

Theron’s shifting from foot to foot, fidgeting with his datapad. “I’m pulling data now, but there’s not much here. Damn it, we may never figure out what they were really up to. They were building an army for someone, but-”

“We’ll- oh-” Lana flinches, eyes scrunching shut as her face contorts in pain, and she staggers for a moment. “Something’s coming.”

(And to think I used to envy you that mind-reading thing, she says, nudging Lana teasingly. It seemed so useful.

It is, sometimes. But it’s hard to control. One ends up- she nudges her back, two fingers prodding at the side of her neck- seeing things one wishes one hadn’t.)

The ship’s already darkening the sky when she looks up, the figure projecting from it nearly half again the height of the tower and looming high overhead like something out of a nightmare, all cape and hood and mask and-

Raina ducks out of sight; Lana’s staring, eyes wide, up at the figure, and Theron’s gone pale and quiet and his lips move, silent- she told me he wasn’t dead, she knew-

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She rests her hands on her hips, scowling upward in the general direction of its face, if it can see her at all. “Revan. I’m pretty sure I killed you.”

***

I don’t remember Theron saying that. Lana turns her head, eyebrow a perfect arching question mark. Who did he mean, she?

She shrugs. I assume he meant his mother… I’m not sure, actually. But you remember the rest of what happened after that, don’t you?

Lana nods. We should have waited for you on the beach, but Revan’s flagship was firing on us, too. Splitting up seemed the safest option. Then by the time I made it back to Vaiken, the death warrant was already active. Arkous’ failsafe must have kicked in the moment he died, and the word of a Darth, a Dark Council member, even posthumous, against mine-   She shrugs. I ran, and hoped you’d get my message.

And Theron did the same, and Jakarro. I only slipped the net by virtue of not technically actually existing, I think- it wouldn’t work now, not with the old Minister gone, but he used to wipe my dossier once a month. It made it rather difficult to pin me down.

Lana grins at that. A trick I wished I could have replicated, but no such luck. So it was quite a relief, really, when you showed up on Manaan again, though I’m not sure Theron felt quite the same.

He said he was glad to see me. The pillow beneath her head’s gone flat; she fluffs it carefully, and settles back down. Although asking for a mutual debriefing may have been pushing it just a little too far.

(Stuttering out a denial, he’d blushed so hard his scalp turned pink. Oh, Force, he was cute when he blushed.)

***

Up next: Best-Laid Plans, in which the rest of what was supposed to happen in this chapter actually happens (they got chatty and we’ve got a schedule to stick to, here), we spend New Year’s Eve on Port Nowhere, and a rescue on Rishi brings two truths to light.

[junker-town]

The Adrian Beltre Encyclopedia

This is everything you need to know about the wonderful Adrian Beltre, the newest member of MLB’s 3,000 hit club.

Adrian Beltre is about to reach 3,000 hits in the major leagues (has just reached, etc.), and in celebration of his varied, humorous, and never boring career, it’s time to celebrate all the amazing things that have cemented him as one of the most entertaining people in the league at any given moment.

Whether it’s his phobia of people touching his head (he’s serious guys, stop it!), his defensive prowess on the hot corner year after year, or the spontaneous moments in games and in the dugout that give you insight into his personality, Belter is a non-stop barrel of laughs. Even when he doesn’t mean to be.

To try and get those laughable, unique moments all in one place, this is the Adrian Beltre Encyclopedia.

Anti-Head Touching

This might be one of the most memorable pieces of Beltre’s entire career, and it doesn’t even have anything to do with his on-field achievements. He truly, sincerely, does not like people touching his head.

If you do so, you will set him off with a mini-tantrum of frustration which is truly, sincerely hilarious to everyone involved but him. Baseball is filled with perfectly juvenile behavior whether it be in the clubhouse, on road trips, or on the field. But people touching Beltre’s head might be the best example of this and something that never gets old.

Camera Man Check-In

Back in 2011, Beltre had a three-homer game against the Rays. During his first home run trot around the bases, a TBS cameraman followed him down the third base line to home, carrying his camera to track Beltre’s jog.

And then that cameraman absolutely ate it, breaking parts of his camera in the process. Even though he was mere feet from home, Beltre wasn’t about to let the moment pass without a reaction so he pointed and cracked a smile at the poor bloke laying on the turf. It wasn’t blatantly mean-spirited, which is what makes it a funny moment and not a cruel one.

Defensive Dives

Yes, his one-knee home runs are fun and all, but Beltre’s defense is the other half of what has secured his longevity in the league thus far and sometimes his work at third is more fun to watch than his hits (sometimes). Whether it’s a diving stop in the infield to keep a runner from advancing or a lunge to the foul line followed by a jaw-dropping throw to first, his amazing skills while manning third base are a consistent reminder of how valuable he is on both sides of the ball.

Death Stares

We’ve established (and will continue to establish) that Beltre’s teammates love messing with him, and that he will flip out if you annoy him in various ways. But there are also moments where he doesn’t go nuts if people are messing around, he will simply bore a hole in your very essence with one of the best death stares in the game.

Fun With Felix

Felix Hernandez and Beltre were teammates for five years, and we’re sure that tons of fun was had between the two during that span. But they’ve only become more entertaining from an outsider’s perspective since Beltre left Seattle, and boy have they had some classic moments over the years.

There was the “oh shit!” home run off of Felix that Beltre couldn’t believe.

There was the time when Beltre lined out right into Felix’s glove and Felix tossed it right back to him as he walked back to the dugout.

Sometimes the moments aren’t as blink-and-you’ll-miss-them, like the one game where they spent more or less the entire time jawing at each other jokingly back and forth.

Best Friends Forever!

Elvis Andrus Moments

When Adrian Beltre was traded to the Rangers, he was coming off of a stint in Boston where wide swaths of people seemed to really notice him for the first time. It’s not like he wasn’t a good player during his decade-plus in Los Angeles and Seattle, but it wasn’t the same national Beltre experience as fans know now.

So going to the Rangers, not only were his antics known and recognized, but he found a partner in crime to share his goofs with and we couldn’t be happier this happened.

Elvis Andrus and Beltre have more fun messing with each other on the field than possibly any other combination of players in the league. Even when they look mad at each other, you can tell it’s in a love way like people who have been friends since childhood.

It might happen during a huddle on the mound or a break during an inning, but the best moments between these two are when they goof off while in the process of making plays. I mean, just look at these two and try not to crack a smile.

While there are baseball friendships all across the league, there isn’t one as present on the diamond as this one. Nor one that adds to the entertainment of the game in quite the same way.

First Base Ump Fun

Beltre is a shrewd strategist sometimes, even when he’s being cheeky about things. One major example of this is his frequent referrals to the first base ump when he checks his swing. By jumping into action before the home plate official can say a word, he tries for the more sympathetic call immediately and hopes to turn things in his favor.

Even when it doesn’t work out though, his eagerness to get an answer from the ump and the way he points down the first base line is a sight to see.

Hitting For The Cycle

Beltre has hit for the cycle three times in his career, once for Seattle and twice for the Rangers. However, the cycle he hit while playing for the Mariners actually happened against the Rangers, in Arlington.

Which means he is the only person in the history of the league to hit for the cycle three times in the same ballpark. He’s only one of four people to hit for the cycle three times, period. And the last person to do that before Beltre completed the feat in 1933.

Just a fun tidbit that allows us to marvel at his sometimes unbelievable skills, which can get lost amongst his shenanigans.

Home Runs From His Knees

This might be his signature move, and one that he can’t even explain with any certainty as to why it happens. In 2016, Beltre attempted to explain the phenomenon to MLB.com saying,

I don't like doing it, but it normally happens on breaking balls -- when I'm trying to fight off a breaking ball. Somehow my knee goes down and I just see the ball and swing. I don't like doing it, I wish I could stop doing. I think it hurts me more than it helps me. Sometimes when I go to one knee I think that I could've hit the ball better if I didn't. But it happens and it's just reaction. I've been doing it too long to change now.

Good thing he can’t really fix that, as it’s incredible to watch every single time he pulls it off.

Trying to figure out how he is able to generate that type of power from one knee, and the quickness with which he pivots to the ground, is remarkable to say the least.

Listed Age

Beltre was the weirdo prospect who was actually younger than his listed age.

Boras eventually got Major League Baseball to review the case and after a lengthy investigation, they determined that the Dodgers in fact had signed Beltre when he was 15. The signing age for international amateurs is 16.

The Dodgers fudged his age in reverse, and they got slapped with a bunch of penalties for it. Only Adrian Beltre can show up to his major league debut and well-actually Scott Boras about his age.

On-Deck Circles

Adrian Beltre likes his on-deck circles where he likes his on-deck circles. When an ump asks him to move from the spot where he is warming up to the designated on-deck area, he decides: “Nah.”

So he slides the on-deck circle to where he’d like it to be instead of just acquiescing, and gets promptly ejected.

Has there ever been a more perfect distillation of who Adrian Beltre is as a baseball player and a person? Maybe. Has there ever been a funnier distillation of who Adrian Beltre is as a baseball player and a person? Not even close.

Popup Fakeouts

This mostly has to do with his Andrus bond, but Beltre has never met an easy popup he couldn’t exploit for his own benefit. It’s usually just distracting enough to be funny but not dangerous, and Beltre enjoys doing it so dang much it’s hard not to appreciate the joke along with him.

Raising His Son Right

This is pretty self explanatory in that his son, Adrian Beltre Jr., is not only adorable but is mimicking his father as he grows up just like many kids do. However it’s better than a normal kid specifically because his dad is Adrian Beltre.

Beltre Jr. has mimicked his dad’s swing pre-game (and hit some bombs while he was at it!), taken part in some pretty intense games of father-son catch where he showed off some serious sidearm toss skills, and just been an all around mini-me to his dad. With Beltre being such a character, we would be remiss if we didn’t hope for that trend to keep going and the world to grant us another baseball Beltre.

Ridiculous Base Path Running

I mean...he’s the best. How can you not enjoy this.

Or this.

What a goof.

Slow Dribblers

He has no patience for them. Who does? Those balls that come rolling through the infield moving slower than molasses, causing nothing but frustration and letting people reach base every time.

So in the face of slow dribblers, Beltre will not stand for their shenanigans and takes things into his own hands. Like when he tried to surreptitiously kick one foul rather than even making a play. It totally could have worked!

Torn Testicle

Once, Adrian Beltre tore a testicle after a ball hit him right in the...well...testicle. He stayed in the game for the duration, and then afterwards checked things out and said that his testicle was the size of a grapefruit. Later he confirmed that it took two whole weeks for it to shrink back to its normal size (he was put on the 15-day disabled list at the time).

Media reports at the time described it as “severely bruised” and surgery was even considered to get things back as they are supposed to be down there, to put it gently.

But staying in the game and talking openly about the severity of his testicle issues wasn’t even the most Beltre part of this, that would be the fact that after the incident he continued to refrain from wearing a protective cup.

At the time he said it was uncomfortable and he doesn’t like it, but a shot to that area would surely change a normal person’s mind after the fact right? A normal person, sure. But Beltre is beautifully not-normal so he wore one while he healed up and then it was back to the cup-less life.

Tossing His Glove

We’ve already noted here that Beltre loves messing with people, but doesn’t always like being messed with. This is a subset of those fun and games that also happens to be something little league parents scold their kids about.

Yet Beltre does it because everyone gets bored sometimes out on the field, it’s just that 99.9% of major leaguers hide it better than he does. Nothing bad happens because he wants to toss his glove above his head as a line drive sails over him, it won’t come close to interfering and to him it’s hilarious.

Tossing His Glove (subset: Angrily)

There have also been times when tossing his glove has stemmed not from joy and goofiness but from annoyance - at a ball or at a team member. There was the time that Elvis Andrus touched his head (again) during a meeting at the mound and Beltre promptly turned around and hucked his glove right at him as Andrus hustled out of there.

Or the time when a ground ball passed him at third and rather than diving for a play that would have been impossible to make even if he could reach the ball, he just threw his glove at it and watched it bounce right by. Who among us?