#i’ve had cleaned up versions of a couple of these kicking about in my files for years

[silverfoxstole]

The boys of HMS Hotspur (plus one treacherous Irish Napoleon wannabe).

Photos enhanced and watermarks removed by me.

[steve-rogers-ruined-men-for-me]

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky’s worried about you overworking yourself at your teaching job. 

Warnings: some swearing, cute couple shit

Words: 2014k

A/N: this is my first full fic! I’ve really missed writing just for fun and I have a few more fic ideas and hc ideas in the works! please please please comment and let me know what you think! 

No matter what, you always came to bed when Bucky did. Sometimes you stayed up on your phone or reading but you always at least sat on the bed with him. He knew that you had a big week coming up, with your principal coming to observe you, midterms drawing closer, and your students struggling with the new curriculum the district was imposing. 

You were a high school English teacher and Bucky had met you when your school had put on an assembly about the history of the Avengers. He had noticed you in the back of the auditorium, wearing a soft blue dress and encouraging your students to ask him questions about his prosthetic. He shyly asked Tony to see if he could contact the school later and get your number. He had rolled his eyes at him and had walked up to you and asked in plain English, “The Manchurian Candidate over there wants to take you to dinner. If I set up the reservation and promise to make him show up, will you go?” Your jaw had dropped and you had numbly agreed. James Buchanan Barnes wanted to go on a date with you? Despite your doubts regarding the reality of the situation, you showed up outside the quiet Italian restaurant and the rest was history.

Bucky smiled at the memory of you dressed in a red silk jumpsuit with your hair braided back. You looked like a modern version of the girls he flirted with during the forties. Only, back then, he had been wondering how to get up their skirts but now he was more concerned with taking his time getting the jumpsuit off your gorgeous body. He felt a twitch between his legs and, smirking, shook the feeling off. He padded down to the kitchen, thinking you had gotten hungry. When that search yielded no you, he wandered through the rest of the downstairs. He noted that your car hadn’t left the driveway and checked the calendar on the fridge to see if he had the opening shift at the mechanic’s tomorrow (he mercifully did not). But he took note of how small your writing was on your to-do list for Monday. 

Feeling a pang in his chest, he remembered how he had begged you to let him have your full attention on Friday and Saturday.  While you’d reveled in your domestic bliss, by noon on Sunday, you had been buried in your office with your laptop, surrounded by books, papers, and highlighters. Smiling to himself, he realized where you were. He headed up to the attic loft, converted into your office. The walls were a soft gray and the couch the two of you had bought for your tiny first apartment was squeezed against one wall. 

Bucky’s heart tightened as he saw you sprawled on the couch, wrapped in one of his massive flannels. Your desk light was on and the desk was messier than he’d ever seen it. Your blinking phone alerted him to the fact that you’d set an alarm for midnight, but had been so tired you’d slept through it, a given considering you were working yourself to the bone and it was two a.m. Afraid to ruin your organizational system on your desk, he returned the pens and highlighters to the little decorative cups you kept them in, saved every file you had open on your laptop before closing it, and pushed the papers in imminent danger of falling onto the floor farther back on the desk. 

Content that he had lessened the burden of cleaning you’d have to do tomorrow, he crouched next to the couch. Gently smoothing a stray hair out of your face, he whispered, “baby...come on, get up, let’s go to bed.” You opened your eyes slowly and then jerked upright, sending your phone flying and Bucky scrambling backwards. 

“What time is it!” you cried, frantic. You ran towards your desk, frantically pinging your phone from your Apple Watch. Your clock on your desk blinked back 2:05 a.m. at you. Bucky picked up your incessantly beeping phone and handed it to you as you slumped in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

“I just wanted to get this stupid assessment plan done,” you whispered. You hugged his flannel tight around you as tears started to fall. Bucky turned your swivel chair so you were facing him as he knelt in between your legs. You dropped your upper body and rested your forehead on his shoulder as you sobbed. The weight of turning in grades, making assignments, checking in with your students to make sure they were doing okay, it was weighing on you. Bucky had noticed you sleeping less and drinking more coffee but hadn’t truly realized the toll it was taking on you. Kicking himself for making you spend time with him instead of alleviating your burdens at work, he pulled you out of the chair to sit between his legs, curling you into him and rocking gently. After a few minutes, you tilted your chin up and scooched back. Sitting criss cross between his legs, you cupped your chin and closed your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” you said sadly. You tugged on a loose button on your sleeve, looking like a lost puppy. Bucky knew how much you adored teaching and how much you loved your students. You were always baking treats for them when they did well on exams, buying bagels so that they could eat breakfast, and extending deadlines for the kids who worked. He knew that the American school system had changed since the 1940s and when you had shown him what you had to teach in a week and just how much time and energy went into lesson planning, he almost formed his own teachers union to advocate for you. 

When he found out your dismal salary, he had to take a walk. He spent an hour with Tony railing against your pay and the administrators who punished you for the test scores of students that you had no control over. Tony sat him down after an hour of not being able to get a word in edgewise and finally pledged to harass the local school boards (and the Board of Education if they would call him back) about raising teacher salaries. Bucky had walked home to you pouring over birthday cards your sixth period juniors had given you because they’d gotten a tip that it was your birthday. (Peter helped Bucky hack your Google Classroom). He felt a wave of pride come over him as he looked at you, his selfless girl, thrilled that she was having an impact on the kids she loved the most. You getting so down on yourself broke his heart. 

“What’s wrong with your assessment plan?” he asked, intertwining your hands with his. You looked up angrily. “What ISN’T wrong with it is a better question!” you cried. “The district made the test up and it’s on a fucking scantron because what fucking isn’t these days and it’s not taking into account the fact that school is not the main focus for so many of these kids that have to fucking work and help support their siblings and all they are is numbers on a fucking piece of paper that tells you nothing about the effectiveness of my teaching or the district’s ability to educate them as a whole!” Bucky blinked rapidly as you huffed. You didn’t get angry very often, but when you did and you started to monologue, he understood why you received a distinction with your English degree. 

“Baby,” he started gently, “can I ask you something you may not like?” He knew that you were a planner and that the odds were you were beating yourself up about a task that had taken your coworkers thirty minutes to do. You always wanted to do right by your kids but if you didn’t start sleeping and taking care of yourself, you were useless to everyone, including yourself. You looked up at Bucky through teary eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if the plan’s done and I’m just being picky?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky stood up, taking you with him. He pressed your frame against him, putting your arms over his shoulders and resting his hands on your waist. He stayed to sway slightly, trying to lull you back to sleep and to try to help quiet your mind. “I wouldn’t say picky I just...look. I’m being selfish. I want you to come to bed with me. I want you to play with my hair and whisper that you love me when you think I’m out cold asleep,” he gushed, noting the slight blush that crept up your cheeks. “You are incredible. Your admin are literally fucking stupid, doll. Nothing you do will change that. You are trying your best and if you think that your kids won’t benefit from the 12 different plans you’ve cooked up, then you’re crazy. Your kids don’t need a version 13, baby. They need you whole, in one piece, and ready to fight for them if they need.” He kissed your forehead, trying to ease your creased brow. Giving in to his ministrations, you sighed. You thought about how this plan should’ve probably only taken an hour. But then you rewrote the plan for the week based off of if your kids took a lot of time on the test, a little time, got anxious during it, caught on fire during it, committed larceny during the test and you had to contact the police. You knew it was overkill but you also knew that budget cuts were coming, contracts were up at the end of this year, and you and Bucky were saving to buy a house instead of living in a condo forever. 

“Buck?” you whispered. He lifted his chin off your head and looked down.

“Yeah, doll?” 

You felt the exhaustion settle into you all at once. “Can we go to bed?” 

Picking you up and putting you in a fireman’s carry, Bucky held you the whole way down to your bedroom. He pulled out a shirt of his for you to sleep in while you brushed your teeth and rinsed off in the shower. He walked in right as you were towelling off and he slipped it over your head with ease. He offered to blow dry your hair but you declined, favoring slipping into a warm sleep with him. He cuddled you close, forgoing asking you to play with his hair in favor of trying to hug all the pride he felt about you into your body via osmosis. Your head was resting soft on his chest, one arm curled protectively around his torso. His metal arm was tucked up and around your shoulders, keeping you comfortable. His flesh hand caressed your arm around him to remind you that he would always be there for you. He loved you more than anything. As your breathing evened and his hand on your side rose in gentle time with your breath, he decided that he was going to call Tony tomorrow. He knew a few people who owed him from his time as the Winter Soldier and if they didn’t want their dirty laundry exposed, dammit he was going to make someone in the district fix the stupid test until it worked how you wanted it to work. He hugged you closer to him, giving you one final squeeze before he started drifting off to sleep. He slipped into a dream where he was a professor and you a naughty schoolgirl and he had just convinced you to bend over to pick something up behind his desk when...a loud snore from you jolted him back to the reality of his exhausted teacher girlfriend wearing his baggy shirt, with hair going every which way. There was no plaid skirt here. Only love and admiration. Bucky kissed your temple and willed sleep to come again. 

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Little Soul Mate

Pairings: Crowley x Reader, Crowley x Age Regressed Reader

Warnings: Swearing??? IDK I put it for everything. Age regression.

Word Count: 4,597

A/N: So this story is a paused fic I have had in my files for two years that doesn’t really have a set ending because I couldn’t come up with anything else. I just want to give y’all some more content I guess. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terrified didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling. You sat as deep into the corner of your apartment complex’s laundry room as physically possible as something monstrous clawed at the thankfully steel doors to get to you. Your two personalities raged in your brain, as tears streamed down your face. You tried to scream for help but the sound caught in your throat each time.  You managed to squeak out ‘Daddy’ for a man that hadn’t existed in your life in months as the monster finally burst through the door. You closed your eyes, and curled up into yourself a little more as the beast lunged toward you before a gun shot rang out through the room.

You continued to sob and shake as the beast landed at your feet, spraying blood from the hole in his jugular across your baby Tigger slippers, your jean overalls, and the orange long sleeved, off shoulder sweater shirt you had on. You could barely hear someone ask if you were alright as adult you sobbed and slowly slipped away, and little you screamed in your mind in sheer terror, but you yelped when someone touched your knee. Your head whipped back and forth as you began to rock and beg your daddy to come back.

“What’s she saying?” Dean asked his brother as the pair of them watched you cover your ears. Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“We gotta get her out of here.” Sam said as he looked at the werewolf at his feet.

“Dude. She’s fucking crazy.” Dean said as he kicked the beast with the toe of his boot.

“She was just attacked by a fucking werewolf, of course she’s a little crazy.”

“Are you lot really going to just stand around with your thumbs up your asses all bloody day?” Crowley asked as he leaned in the door way, always up for annoying the boys. His eyebrows cocked as he looked at you, huddled in the corner. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Don’t know.” Dean said as he pocketed his gun. “Found her like this.” The King’s brow furrowed as he took a step closer to hear what you were mumbling. His brow furrowed further as he listened to the conflicting yet parallel thoughts in your head, and he quickly made the wolf disappear, as a need to comfort filled his twisted soul for the first time in decades.

“I’ve got her, boys.” He said as he came over and crouched down in front of you. “Hello, little one.” He said softly as Sam and Dean cleared out. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head as your pleas for help fell silent on your lips. “Alright. How about you come with me, and we can get you out of those filthy clothes. I don’t think Tigger appreciates the yuck, does he?” You shook your head again and looked up at him through your lashes with a sniffle. He smiled at you and held out his hand, patiently.

“I’m scared.” You whispered as you looked over at the broken door. “It’s scary.”

“I know it is.” Crowley agreed with a nod. “But I promise, I can protect you from that mean, scary beast.” You were so terrified, the concept of trusting this man at face value with your deepest, darkest secret didn’t even cross your mind. Very slowly, you reached out and slipped your blood splattered hand into his. “There’s a good girl. How about we go find a cup of milk and some cartoons, huh?”

“Chocolate?” You whispered as he pulled you to your feet. 

“That sounds wonderful, little one.”

——

Crowley watched you in awe as you sat on the floor of your pastel pink spare bedroom, coloring in a ‘My Little Pony’ coloring book, surrounded by stuffed animals to keep you safe. He pushed himself back and forth in your rocking chair, trying to figure out just why he, a soulless, narcissistic prick, gave a damn about the strange woman in front of him. He wasn’t any sort of caregiver; nothing like the man that you had been crying for in the basement. He also wasn’t a complete asshole like that man either. But he couldn’t help but consider the idea. But how he would go about being a caregiver in his position?

“Look it!” You said, pridefully as you picked up the book, and showed it to him.

“You did that?” He asked as he stopped rocking, and leaned forward in the chair. “That’s incredible!”

“That’s Pinkie Pie.” You said as you scooted toward him, and pointed out the characters. “And that’s Applejack. See, she’s here, too!” You said, excitedly, as you handed him the book, and grabbed the stuffed animal version of your drawing from the pile. “She’s my favorite pony.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Applejack.” Crowley said with a smile as he reached out, and shook the stuffed animal’s leg before he even thought the action through.

“She likes you.” You said as you sat back on your heels in front of him, and looked at your pony. “She thinks you seem trustable. She didn’t…” You said before your voice fell off. You bit your lip, and tears welled in your eyes as your adult brain tried to protect your innocent little side from the memory of your ex.

“Little one.” Crowley said as he leaned forward, and rested his arms on his knees. “How’s about I put a movie in for you before you take a nap. Since I know you’re safe, I’ll leave you here for now. And, tomorrow, we can go out to dinner to get to know each other. Big or Little you, I’m fine with both.” You nodded your head slowly as the adult in you took over for a moment.

“Is that thing coming back?” You whispered as you looked up at him with tear filled eyes. 

“I swear to you, you are safe. I know my word means nothing yet but it’s the truth.” He reached out, and very gently wiped away your tears. You whispered ‘OK’ and nodded against his palm. “Alright, little one. Let’s see what cute pajamas you have.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley sat on his throne, ignoring the rambling demon in front of him as he responded to little you and your unbelievable facts about orcas (because there was no way a whale weighed a gazillion tons) and big you regarding dinner plans that night. In less than twenty four hours, you had some how weaved your way into every inch of his brain. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as Little sent another photo, introducing him to Perry the Porg (whatever a porg was. Looked more like a penguin to him), when Sam’s caller ID photo popped up on his screen. He sighed and stood up, walking out of his throne room in the middle of his minion’s sentence.

“What d’you want, Moose?”

“Hey, we’re trying to wrap up here in town. Did you give that girl the speech?”

“I’m taking care of it.” Crowley said as he glanced at his phone and the text from you about your hesitation on going out for dinner. 

“It’s no big deal.” Sam said. “We’re cleaning up now, and we can head over…”

“I said I fucking have it!” He snapped! “What part of that fucking sentence do you not understand?” He hung up the phone and pulled up your texts with a shake of his head. He waited a few minutes, sending you a couple more texts to make it appear that he was ‘driving over’ before transporting himself to your apartment. He made sure that he had a different tie on than the night before, and that the scent of sulfur was gone from his suit before knocking on your door. He huffed a laugh when he heard your small squeal, and took a step back to wait for you to open the door.

“You made it.” You said with a smile as you pulled on the side of your knee length, black dress. “Come in!”

“You look amazing, kitten.” He said as he stepped into your apartment. “You ready to go?” You nodded your head slightly.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” You asked as you looked at the open door.

“I promise you. It’s safe.” He reassured as he held out his arm for you. You nodded and took it hesitantly but with every step you took toward the door, your grip tightened. You made it to the threshold when the twisted face of your neighbor running toward you stopped you cold, and sent your mind reeling.

“No.” You said as you put on the breaks, and dug your heels into the carpeted floor. “No, I can’t. Daddy, please! Please!”

“OK. OK.” Crowley said as he moved in front of you and gently pushed you a step back into your place. He shushed you softly, and pushed your apartment door closed as you burst into tears. “Hey, you’re alright, kitten.”

“He’s gunna come back.” You gasped with a frantic shake of your head. “He’s coming…”

“Little love.” He cooed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your shaking body into his chest. “Breathe for me.”

“I can’t.” You gasped. Crowley nodded and slowly walked you back to your couch.

“Alright, here we go. Sit down for me.” You nodded and let him lead you into a seat. He sat down beside you with a sigh, wondering briefly just how Sam and Dean dealt with people after they learn about the supernatural on a regular basis. “There’s my girl. I was in the mood for a nice slice of pizza anyways. So we stay inside for our first date.” He smiled and ran his hand down your leg to take off your heels with a smile. “My vote is for peppers and mushrooms.” Your nose scrunched as he tossed your shoes aside, and pulled your legs across his lap.

“Eww.” Crowley laughed as he grabbed one of your many blankets from the shelf under your coffee table and spread it out across your lap.

“So what does my little girl want then?” He asked as he wrapped the blanket around you. 

“Cheese.” You whispered as you took the offered handkerchief from Crowley.

“Cheese it is.” He agreed. “I’ll place the order, while you find something on TV. Then we’ll talk after, alright?” You nodded your head as he passed you the remote before pulling out his phone to get one of his minions to pick-up a pizza for him. He smiled to himself as you scooted down on the couch beside him, and pulled up ‘Captain America: Civil War’. You set your remote aside and reached out to hold the side of Crowley’s suit jacket like a safety blanket. Once he hung up the phone, he held his arm out so you could scoot into it.

“You’re safe with me, little one.” He whispered as he kissed the top of your head, loving the smell of your coconut shampoo. “I know I just met you, but I swear to you, you are safe.” You nodded your head and laid your head on his chest for only a moment before someone knocked on your front door.

“Already?” You asked as You sat up while Crowley pulled the blanket off your lap. You headed over to the door, grabbing the cash Crowley held out to you on the way, and took a deep, steadying breath before opening it. Your head tilted the slighted bit to the side as a very tall man with long hair turned around with no pizza in his hands. “Can I help you?” You inquired as you held onto the door a little tighter, prepared to slam it closed if the man turned out to be a beast, too.

“Hi. My name is Sam. I umm… I was there yesterday when…” You heard Crowley sigh, loudly and you glanced over at him as he got up off your couch to come over to the door.

“Fucking part of ‘I’ve fucking got it’ did you not comprehend, Moose?” He asked as he put his hand on on the small of your back. “’s’alright, love. I know him.” Sam looked between the pair of you as you took a step back and partially hid behind Crowley. “You might as well come in. Bloody pain in my ass.” He very carefully turned you around and guided you back into the apartment as Sam shut the door behind him and followed you into the living room. 

“What is this?” You asked as Crowley guided you back to the couch.

“This.” He said as he turned off your TV. “Is the conversation I wanted to have after we ate. But apparently, some people are impatient.” He looked over, pointedly at Sam as he sat down on the other couch. Crowley sighed and looked back over at you, searching your (Y/E/C) eyes as he tried to find the words to say. 

“(Y/N), there is no easy way to say this, but it needs to be said. There are beasts in this world. Beasts that most people believe only exist in movies. Beasts like the werewolf that tried to attack you last night… and beasts like me.” Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out just what he meant before he blinked and his eyes turned blood red. You were too stunned to move, too lost for words as Sam started to explain further. It took you a few moments as Crowley simply waited for your reaction.

“Are you gunna hurt me?” You whispered as tears welled in your eyes, not caring that Sam was talking at all.

“Never, kitten.” You nodded your head slowly as little moved your hand forward to brush your fingertips across his face beside his eye. His shoulders relaxed and he blinked his eyes back to their normal brown as Sam watched the exchange uncomfortably. 

“What are you?”

“A demon.” He answered honestly. “Actually, to be more specific, the King of Hell.”

“So… doesn’t that mean your dead?”

“Technically speaking.” He said with a nod. “But a few years past, Sam and his brother tried to cure me. So I have a partial soul.” You nodded your head slowly and glanced over at Sam.

“Do you sleep?” He smirked and shrugged his shoulders as he leaned against the back of the couch.

“Not typically. But I can fall asleep if I want.”

“Don’t demons like haunt people, and throw shit?” Crowley smiled as he ran his fingertips across your knee. 

“It’s our form of entertainment.” He chuckled. “But yes, I can make things move, and I can make myself invisible.” Your eyes went wide and a smile spread across your face as you shifted on the couch and crossed your legs.

“Do it! Pretty please?” With a slight nod and a huff, Crowley disappeared before your eyes. You could still feel his hand on your knee and could still see the impression of where he was sitting on the couch.

“When you’ve lived as long as I have.” His disembodied voice said as he made the vase on your table levitate. “You have to have some fun.” You gasped as the vase went flying across the room and hit Sam directly in the stomach. He grunted, and bent over double as the vase floated back to the table and Crowley reappeared with a smug smile. “Told you, I’d handle it.”

“Fuck you, Crowley.” Sam said as he got up. “I’d run, and run fast, (Y/N)…”

“Noted.” You said as someone else knocked on the door.

“I’ll see him out.” Crowley said as he picked up his money from the table. With a nod of your head, you sat back against the couch to try to wrap your head around the new news. After some yelling on Crowley’s part, he slammed your front door, and brought the pizza back for you with a smile. “It’s actually from Italy.” He said as he set it down on the table in front of you. “Perks of being the King.”

“Can I ask you something?” You said as you grabbed a slice and a tissue for a napkin. “Why would a demon show interest in someone like me?”

“Truthfully?” He said as he sat down beside you and crossed his legs. “I have no idea. Typically, I don’t tolerate people. But there’s something about you that I can’t walk away from even if I tried. And don’t ask what because I don’t have a bloody clue. You’re just something special. You’re too damn adorable.” Your face flushed and you curled into yourself as you tried to use your half eaten pizza to hide your face. “That doesn’t help your case, kitten.”

“Quit!” You whined as you poked his side with your toes. He chuckled as he reached out to rub your ankle.

“Sorry, kitten. Not possible.” You scrunched your nose at him and reached out to turn your TV back on with an embarrassed smile. You glanced over at his smiling face and turned a brighter shade of red.

“Will you quit!”

——

“She came around when I was in high school.” You said softly as you looked over at the closed spare bedroom door while leaning against Crowley’s side with your legs over his lap. “I was such a loner back then. My parents had gotten divorced the summer before my freshman year and started using me and my big sister as pawns in their divorce. It became a literal living hell and it got so bad, that my sister ran away. We haven’t seen or heard from here in years, and I got blamed for it. I didn’t know how to handle it all. So I started to regress.”

“Oh, kitten.” Crowley sighed as he brushed his hand up your shins.

“It’s OK.” You said with a shrug. “I survived it. And Little… well, she kinda just stuck around. I spend more time being little now a days than I do being big. It’s the only coping mechanism I know.”

“So what happened to your last ‘Daddy’?” He asked as he shifted a bit to see your face. You sighed deeply and ran your fingers through your hair as you met his eyes. 

“Michael was an asshole. He didn’t understand the concept of caregiver and basically just wanted a sex slave. He was a sweetheart to start out with but after a few months, being little got in the way. He wanted me to support him, wanted me to take care of him.” You scoffed and shook your head as you briefly relived the last fight you had before you locked him out of your apartment. “He wanted a woman that knew her fucking place in the world. And I wasn’t having it.”

“Good for you, kitten.” He said as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“I just… I had to protect the part of me that was there to protect me. It’s like a split personality but I’m aware of everything that happens in both mindsets and both mindsets are there all the time. Like now, the little half of me is singing the theme song to a classic show called ‘Popples’ on repeat. Which is annoying as hell but I just ignore it… usually. Sometime she’s insistent about it, though. And at that point, I just let her win.”

“She is quite the presence.” He chuckled. “Would you mind if I stuck around to get to know both of you? I don’t know much about this… hell, I’m not even sure I’d be good at it…”

“You would be.” You said with a nod. “Just the bit of protectiveness I’ve seen proves that.”

“Well thank you.” You nodded your head and gently pat his hand to get up to use the restroom.

“It takes a special someone to be a Daddy.” You said as you pulled the hair tie from your wrist and threw your hair up in a loose, messy bun. “It’s not for everyone.” If it was possible, Crowley’e heart stopped as he looked at the small, blob like, ‘L’ shaped birthmark on the back of your neck. It was something he never believed existed, no matter how many times he had looked at the exact same mark on his left arm for centuries on both his human body and his meat suit.

“Love, is that a birthmark?” Crowley asked as he gestured to the soul mate mark that explained everything about how he felt about you. You looked back at him as you reached back and rubbed your fingertip across the spot with a smile.

“That it is.” You said with a shrug as you paused in the doorway to the master bedroom. “I used to hate it because kids used to say it looked like a penis but I could never bring myself to have it removed. I’ll be right back. I wanna get out of this dress.” He nodded his head slowly as he reached up to absentmindedly press his thumb into his own mark.

“Well I’ll be fucking damned.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Guthrie what do you know about soulmates?” Crowley asked as he sat on his throne, scouring the internet for any sort of information on the apparently archaic concept. His second in command looked over at him from the clipboard in his hand with his eyebrows raised.

“Sir?” 

“I didn’t stutter.” He said as he exited out of another webpage with useless information.

“Well sir.” Guthrie breathed as he dropped the clipboard to his side. “When I was a boy, my mother used to tell us that they were called twin flames or twin souls. It translated to a single soul, split between two people, through multiple reincarnations to gain live experience, before meeting again in their final lifetime on the planet so that they may ascend together. Soul mates are different. They are part of a family that help you grow and evolve.”

“So twin flames are the common understanding of soulmates.” Crowley clarified as he switched his search to ‘twin flames’.

“As I understand it, yes.” The King nodded his head as he added ‘mark’ and ‘lore’ to the end of his search.

“Do you believe it could be possible that flames could transcend the realm of living and dead?” Guthrie looked back up from his clipboard as Crowley closed out another useless website.

“I don’t believe so, sir. It could be possible but since most of the deceased on Earth have no soul…” Crowley nodded his head as he turned off his screen and got up from his chair.

“You’re not helping.” He said before disappearing to the library of the Bunker. Sam barely glanced up from his research as Dean threw his book down on the table.

“Damn, and I was hoping to go one fucking day without seeing your face.”

“Shut it, Squirrel.” Crowley snapped as he quickly read the book titles on the shelves before walking over to grab the book he was looking for. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance as he pulled three books off the shelf, and headed over to one of the tables.

“What uh… what are you looking for?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“None of your bloody business.” Crowley snapped as he flipped through the first lore book for the information he wanted. He stopped when he found a page referencing soul marks. He let out a small sigh of relief as he picked up the book and started to read as he walked slowly toward the archway between the map room and the library. He leaned up against the pillar and made himself a drink as he tried to soak up every ounce of information he could.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Dean asked as he got up to see what Crowley was reading. He managed to get only part of one of the titles, before the books went flying across the room.

“Don’t be a nosy prat.” Crowley said, dismissively as he closed the book he was reading and grabbed it and the two others that were floating in mid air in front of him. “I’ll return these when I’m done with them.” He barely heard Sam’s sigh as he disappeared back to his personal chambers to finish reading until you texted him when you got home from your waitressing gig.

“Makes sense.” He mumbled as he sat down in front of his fireplace, and opened the next book that involved the Greek mythology book that he assumed would be able to expand on the  original knowledge he knew about soulmates. “Oh, kitten. What are we gunna do with all this?”

——

You hadn’t walked three feet into your apartment after yet another shitty day, when Crowley appeared directly in front of you. Your bottom lip popped out and tears welled in your eyes almost instantly as you dropped your purse on the ground. 

“They’re just so mean.” You cried as Crowley’s heart melted impossibly more.

“Come here, little one.” He cooed as he held open his arms. You nodded your head and shuffled forward as tears spilled from your eyes. He held you tight and kissed the top of your head with a smile. “Now what happened, kitten?”

“I got fired because I refused to spend another two hours after my shift ended doing someone else’s side work. I’m sick of being pushed around there!”

“Well then it’s a good thing you got fired, then, right?” He asked as he picked you up and carried you toward your bedroom to get you changed.

“Just another fucking job I can’t fucking do.” You squeaked.

“No, kitten.” He said as he set you down beside the bed. “It’s not that you can’t do the job… arms up.” You nodded your head and put your arms in the air as he tossed your old apron out of the bedroom. “You could do the job. It just shouldn’t have been your damn job to do other people’s work.” You nodded your head and sniffled as you held onto his shoulder and stepped out of you work shorts. “That is just asinine.”

“That’s what I said.” You agreed as he grabbed one of your many, blue, oversized sweaters and a pair of cloud patterned sleep shorts from your closet.

“Well you don’t need that, princess. You deserve so much better than that. Up.” You nodded your head in agreement as you lifted your arms in the air and let him put on your sweatshirt. “I brought you something.” You smiled at him and sniffled as he pulled the hem of your sweater into place over your shorts. He stood up straight and studied you for a moment before holding out his hand and making a tiny, stuffed turtle appear in his palm. “You didn’t have a turtle…” You squealed loudly and snatched the baby from his hand before he could even finish his sentence.

“He’s so cute!” You cooed as you cuddled the turtle to your chest like a baby. Crowley smiled and reached up to brush your hair back behind your ear.

“First, he needs a name.” He said. “Then, he needs to meet his brothers and sisters, right?” You nodded your head as you followed his lead into little space, letting the anxiety of losing yet another job slip away.

“Franklin.” You said as you looked up at him. He nodded his head and smiled at you with a small huff of a laugh.

“Franklin it is.”

[jakebreslauerwrites]

The Art Of Unemployment

I’ve lost three jobs in the last year. Not gonna lie, it’s become exhausting. The emotional journey of losing a job has become remnant of being broken up with. I go through a varying amount of irrational stages of grief, eat too much, take inappropriately long baths, drink too much, and watch Disney movies that I know are going to make me cry (sorry I reference Disney so much). 

Like most during the pandemic, this is not exactly how I saw my life going. I’ve never been unemployed. This is very foreign territory for me. I’ve always had the romantic idea of quitting my day job and focusing entirely on writing and comedy. I tried it once a couple of years ago but after 3 months I was back at my old company. Turns out that pursuing my dreams is fucking terrifying. 

Some people have a couple of shortcomings and personal blockades that keep them from achieving their full potential. At times it has felt like I could write a manual about how to sit on your ass and do nothing while your life passes you by. A couple months ago, when the reality set in that things won’t go back to normal for a while, I decided to create a new normal.  

I’m very fortunate to have enough in my savings to last me a bit. I’ve heard horror stories about filing for unemployment. I’m dreading the eventuality that I’ll have to bite the bullet and sit on hold for 12 hours a day only to get told I don’t qualify. Not having consistent income is hard, but being stripped of my routine when I’m used to working in a very fast paced work environment is jarring to say the least.  

As much as I miss working, believe me when I tell you the service industry can be hell. I wanted to walk into work everyday and have everything go smoothly, but it just wasn’t possible. Working in this business for over ten years I’ve witnessed my fair share of horrors. Guests punching each other, disgruntled employees throwing change at customers faces, having to clean up human shit out of a bathroom sink, the works. A lot of nights I would have nightmares about being the only person behind a bar or on a production line with a slew of angry customers. More than once those nightmares became a reality. 

One thing that I’ve always craved is a normal nine to five type of schedule. I’ve always worked weekends, late nights, early mornings, taking any shift that came my way. So now that I have the time to try and achieve such a cookie cutter lifestyle, I’ve done just that. Since I don’t have a job, I’ve made unemployment my job. 

I have a reasonable bedtime and I wake up early. I exercise in the morning, make the bed, and cook breakfast. I read the New York Times while I sip coffee and occasionally stare out the window for long periods of time. I clean all our breakfast dishes, sweep, then meditate for ten minutes. At ten o-clock I spend an hour looking for jobs and freelance gigs. Eleven o-clock I take my online classes and do my homework. Between noon and one my wife emerges from our home office where she has a big kid job. We make lunch and watch one episode of House Hunters International together. Afterwards I recheck my usual job boards for an hour or so. 

Around three the lure to get high and play Call Of Duty is overpowering. Instead I make a cup of tea, get high, and write for an hour or two. At four thirty I take a walk around my neighborhood and pet strangers' dogs. I get home, pour a glass of wine, and cook dinner with my wife. We watch about two more episodes of House Hunters before she knocks out for the night and I’m left with my Sleepy Time Tea and an hour of video games that I allow myself every day. 

I get ready for bed, kick the cats off my pillow, and read a paragraph of a book before I fall asleep to the gentle sounds of artificial rain emitting from my phone. It helps with my night terrors of being alone in a kitchen.

I love every second of my routine. 

Not everyday is as picture perfect as the one I just painted. Some days the call of my couch and Xbox is more alluring than the desire to better myself. Recently I spent all day preparing for a job interview that I was vastly under qualified for. On more than one occasion one glass of wine has turned into a bottle. The next there is no exercising or healthy breakfast, but there is plenty of complaining and McDonalds. 

It’s not perfect because I’m not perfect. What I’m grateful for is that in the last couple of months I’ve dropped twelve pounds, gotten a few freelance writing jobs, and am finally pursuing a career I’ve always dreamed of and have actually gotten interviews for said job. But most importantly, for the first time in 32 years, I’m taking the time to become the best version of myself that I know I can be. 

The future is uncertain, we can all agree on that. What is certain is that now I know I have the ability to cure my chronic laziness and self doubt. I’m confronting my anxiety and accepting the fact that I don’t have to be perfect. 

I’m slowly learning that self care comes in many forms. Some days it’s adhering to a strict mental and physical quotidian, and others it’s having a popcorn and whiskey dinner. 

All I know for certain is that everyday I have the opportunity to do nothing, but now I’m choosing to do something.  

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want My Son!"

Monday 19th October 2020

Good Evening everyone! Hope your week is going well so far. Tonight I'll be reviewing Monday's episode, my plan is to do two blog posts tomorrow so when Friday comes I'll be all up to date! I apologise once again for slacking a bit this week - it's been a busy one that's for sure! I'm just going to jump straight into it!

The episode starts with Ben and Callum discussing Phil in the kitchen. Ben informs his boyfriend that his Dad as been pacing all night, racking his head about Ellie and Raymond. He explains that they don't even know if Ellie is her real name, considering she's just taken 5 grand off them under false pretences! As Ben is explaining the whole situation to his boyfriend and how it's really hurting Phil deeply, something in the way Callum looked, could he help in someway? Will he able to find any information on Ellie at work? Will he do this to help his boyfriend and his Dad? Or even just to help Ben alone so he can find his brother, something is telling me that Callum will act and perhaps do a bit of digging off his own accord.

Outside on the Square, Max approaches Ian - it's been perhaps about week or two so since he's threatened him, demanding him to give him his money back. Ian happily informed Max that he should have his first instalment that morning ... however, it's what he happens to mention next to his son Peter which starts to ring alarm bells ... he's borrowing money off someone else to pay Max back! I'm just putting it out there, but I'm convinced it's Kathy! He's taking money off his own Mum just so he can pay off his debts! Is it the money he's received from selling Kathy's Cafe?! Has Kathy's Cafe been sold to someone else? Oooo so many questions that I need answers to! But Peter does look a bit suspicious of his Father after he questions him about it!

At home, Denise is confiding in her boyfriend, Jack, about her decision to give up Raymond. She explains that all she wanted to do was to give him a better life, a life she couldn't give him. She informs him that herself and Phil were never meant to see Raymond again, but now things have changed and she can't bare the thought of Phil getting involved with the toddler. Jack consoles his girlfriend and informs her that he is going to sort things out, one way or another and make it all go away. I'm unsure as to how he's going to do that, but I don't think he's going to find a way of getting through to Phil. When Phil wants something, he goes for it, especially where his family is concerned. Meanwhile on the Square Callum finds Phil in the gardens sitting on Dennis's memorial bench, he says to Phil that perhaps he could do Ellie for fraud in an attempt to get him his money back, but the next sentence spoken from Phil really touched me "I'm getting used to losing sons now, aren't I?!" - That is something that no one should ever have to say! I feel so devastated for Phil! I think I asked this a while ago but I am really eager to find out who you're backing in this current story ... are you Team Phil, Team Denise or Team Ellie?! I think I'm Team Phil - all the way!!! ... As Phil thanks Callum for the offer of the attempt to get his money back, Phil walks away looking very solemn.

Meanwhile, at the Cafe, Gray and Shirley are having a one-to-one. Gray is informing Shirley that he feels ready to have the children back living with him, even though it's only been a day or two since he attempted to blow the house up. Shirley informed the grieving Dad that his children are doing fine with their Grandparents. Suddenly, Mick walks in looking for Linda - it then that Shirley tries again to talk to her son, she asks politely whether she can take her Grandson to the park, Linda agrees, much to Mick's disapproval - as you can clearly see by the look on his face - but the only thing Mick mentions is how pally Shirley has become with Gray all of sudden, after slagging him off for having a go at Linda last week. Little does Mick know actually why she's started being there for Gray, they have no idea what she walked in on.

At the Vic, Bobby brings Sharon some boxes for the Queen Vic stock, he's quite reluctant to even pass the boxes over to her. She tries to reassure him that she's healthy but Bobby asks her politely to keep an eye on her temperature, just in case. The one thing I forgot to mention in last night's post was how Bobby was counting how many times he was wiping and cleaning the cutlery. 5 times he would count and make sure he'd washed everything thoroughly! He had even laid everything out on the kitchen table! This is definitely going to be some kind of OCD storyline for Bobby, what do you guys think? As Bobby walks behind the bar, Kathy let out a little giggle and announces she's made a match on her dating app. Ian isn't impressed with his Mother and insists she's too old to be dating - which I think is completely rude! You can date at any age, why can't the older generation have any fun?! It doesn't matter whether you're 17 or 70 - everyone deserves happiness, right?! I found it hilarious when Sharon cackled at the reveal of the name of Kathy's match - Iain (with an extra I)! I also noticed the fact that Kathy pointed out that the gentleman happened to be 43, to which Ian commented "Does he know you're 70?" - obviously us viewers know that Peter has changed her age on her profile, I feel so sad for Kathy at this point because she is actually acting incredibly happy and giddy to have finally met someone, and yet they aren't even aware of her real age - could things go wrong for poor Kathy? Or will she find the man may look past the age gap and fall for her properly?! Next thing, Peter asks his Gran whether she's aware of Ian borrowing money to pay Max back, of course she has no idea who he's borrowing money from - wait till she finds out it's her money, she'll be fuming!!

Oooooh no! The next scene makes me fear for Honey's future! She and Jay are delivering food parcels for neighbours - it's clearly something she must've been doing over the recent months during Covid-19! It appears her food parcel is for an elderly lady but instead, a young gentleman answers the door by the name of Paul. He thanks Honey for bringing the parcel round and compliments her by saying it's a fantastic thing she's doing for her community. He insists he takes her number so he can help out. Of course, our precious Honey is all smiley. But something tells me that this Paul is bad news! Recently it's been revealed that EastEnders is going to kick off a new dark storyline for Honey and it'll have something to do with a new love interest named Paul. This Paul!! I also read recently - I don't know how much truth there is in this but, Honey will end up being raped after having her drink spiked! Will Paul be the culprit? Will Honey be aware of what's happening? Will it be another consent storyline? Rape and consent is something that is covered a lot in soaps, but it's something that tragically happens to both men and women every day! It's something that needs to be portrayed and something that people need to talk more about, I feel that watching these dark moments happen in soaps, does help for victims to seek help and speak up and not suffer in silence! I'm sure EastEnders will cover this story carefully.

Oh it's been a while since we've seen that horrible Detective! Callum is in desperate need though, he probably can't find any other way. He asks him for help in finding information about Ellie Dawkins. It's only then that he finds out that he real name is Ellie Nixon that she's some kind of "Gangster Granny!" - I think Callum's idea is, if he gets information on Ellie to give to Phil, he'll be able to report back to him with information of Phil. But something tells me he won't really, he's just lying to help his boyfriend's Dad out. But will he stick to it?! The Detective (Sorry, I can't remember his name!) informs Callum that if he wants to know everything about Ellie it's going to take him all day to be given the information! Ooo could there be whole big file about Ellie and why is she so dangerous?!

Back at the Beale household, Kathy is excited to see that Iain (with an I) is wanting to take her out on a date. FINALLY Peter comes clean about changing her age on her dating profile. He approaches the subject carefully, trying to compliment his Gran by saying she doesn't look or act the age of 70 - which I agree she doesn't, but at first Kathy doesn't really mind suggesting that maybe 60 would be okay, but when Peter admits he went below 60 and put her age at 45, she's absolutely mortified that her Grandson has knocked a quarter of a century off her actual age! It's then that Ian walks in and Kathy confronts him about borrowing money pay Max back. It's clear to see that she's concerned for her son, she informs him that to help she will remortgage the Cafe, but Ian is quick to instruct her not to and that there'll be no need for her to do that, she insists that the offer is there if he needs to help! ... I honestly can't wait for Kathy to find out that Ian has been stealing money off her!

In the Cafe, Honey and Jay are discussing the new fella they've just met. Honey is unsure as to whether Paul was flirting with her, but Jay is adamant that he was and tries to persuade her to message him. He gives her a good point, she shouldn't let what happened with Adam ruin future possible relationships, she deserves happiness and she should go for it! Whilst he is trying to persuade her to go for it with Paul, he mentions that he's a bit worried that Lola is getting bored of him. Which is really sad really, he admits that during lockdown they've had to live apart and, to him, it feels like instead of going forwards, their relationship is going backwards. It's a bit of shame as I've always thought that Jay and Lola were a brilliant couple and they've been through so much together, perhaps the younger version of Kat and Alfie - in the sense that they belong together, don't you guys think?! However, something maybe tells me that Jay has a little crush on Honey or perhaps has feelings for her? I could be looking into something that isn't there - it even may even come down to the fact that Jamie Borthwick (Jay) has admitted he's had a crush on his co-star Emma Barton (Honey) for a long time! What do you guys think, would Jay and Honey make a good couple? It would be an interesting road to go down, considering Billy was always there to help bring Jay up as a kid when his Dad passed away, and Billy also being Honey's ex-husband!  

At Ruby's club, Jack is meeting up with the Detective ... THOMPSON! That's his name!!! It's just come to me!! This looks like this is Jack's way of getting rid of Phil and putting Denise's mind at rest. He informs DI Thompson about the attack Phil played upon him at the end of the last year. He admits he didn't report it for personal reasons but asks whether he'll back him up just go get rid up Phil Mitchell for good! DI Thompson says it's a little bit too late, considering any evidence would be long gone, he informs Jack that Phil Mitchell isn't worth losing his job over. It's looking like Jack's attempt has failed, but will DI Thompson take this information and confront Callum about it? Does Callum even know about the attack? Will he use this information to put Phil behind bars? Who knows?!

Back on the Square, Shirley bumps into Mick, she seems ready and excited to take her Grandson out to the park, but Mick informs her that his son is at a friend's house. Something tells me he's done that deliberately just so his Mum couldn't spend time with him. Shirley tells her son just because he's angry with her, Ollie shouldn't have to miss out on time with his Gran. Mick only then makes a dig at his Mother saying he's just trying to be good parent - putting the dig in that she wasn't to him! It's then he sees Gray exit the Minute Mart and he calls over to his neighbour that the only reason Shirley is hanging around him is because she wants something, he informs him that the Slaters have asked her to leave so Gray should watch his back. However, Shirley has only had to leave the Slater household because Stacey moved back with Lily. As Mick walks off and Shirley walks in the other direction, Gray follows and informs Shirley that she's welcome to stay with him as he has spare bedroom. He points out that she did him a favour and he wants to repay her. Shirley agrees. I have to admit, I like the new friendship between Shirley and Gray - it's two characters that I would never have put together, but it's nice that they have this mutual understanding with each other and what each other have been through. But should Shirley be careful? What do you make of this new found friendship? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Returning to the Beale household, Peter is seen scrambling through the draws as if he's finding something. As he's doing this, Bobby approaches and asks is older brother whether their Dad will be okay. It appears that young Bobby is worrying that if Ian is borrowing money, is he going to eventually find himself in a deeper hole that he won't be able to get out of? Peter reassures his young brother and insists that their Dad will be fine, he always lands on his feet. With that, Bobby breathes a sigh of relief and leaves the room. As he leaves, Peter continues to search in the draws and finds an envelope addressed to Kathy. He looks inside and opens the letter - what has he found?! Will it be some kind of paper work which confirms the selling of the Cafe?!

Meanwhile at the Mitchell household, Callum comes rushing in to his boyfriend! He's found news about Ellie! He reveals to his boyfriend that Ellie Nixon is her real name, and the car crash that little Raymond's parents were in wasn't an accident at all, but in fact a retaliation attack. She is the reason they're dead. She and it seems the whole family are dangerous. Ben is dumbfounded to hear the news he's being given. He instructs his boyfriend to not tell his Dad. Phil cannot find out, otherwise it'll start a war between them and that is the last thing they need right now. But suddenly, Phil walks in - looking as if he's heard just a small amount of what they were talking about. What can't he know?! But they're stuck now, they're going to have to tell him! Raymond is his son and he deserves to know the truth - as does Denise! If Phil finds out the truth, will he also inform Denise? Will they team up to get Raymond away from Ellie?!

Back at the Beale household, Peter is reeling over the letter he had just found. Suddenly his Dad enters the room and Peter takes his chance to confront his Dad and asks the very important question - Why would Kathy offer to remortgage the Cafe, when it turns out she already has?! So that's what Ian's done, he's not sold it, he's remortgaged it - still, he's still stealing from his own Mum! Ooooo he's such a weasel isn't he? He convinces his son that Kathy didn't want anyone knowing and she told Ian in confidence that she's having cash-flow problems, he also plays the guilt-trip to his son, asking why does he think so little of him? Why doesn't he support him?! Oooo I don't like Ian right now, he's being sneaky and lying to everyone around him and I don't like it! He's going to be found out soon, surely? It can't be long until Kathy finds out the truth!

The final scene of this episode, we're back with the Mitchell's and Phil is reeling from what he's been told. His head is running away with him saying he'll get Ritchie involved and he'll track down a phone number and an address. But Callum mentions that he's got a phone number, Ben warns his boyfriend not to hand it over. But Phil is desperate, he takes no chances and dials the number that Callum gives him. Ben looking absolutely gobsmacked as to what is happening around him, warning his Dad that he's not thinking straight. I love how passionate Phil is in this moment, he dials the number and we here the dial tone ring, Ellie answers and Phil is quick to the point! He wants Raymond!!!

I am so excited to see what's going to happen with this storyline. In all honesty, I love any storyline involving Phil Mitchell at the forefront! Steve McFadden is absolutely incredible and I can't speak highly of the man, he's such an astounding actor, blows me away every time he's on screen! What do you think is going to happen next? I aware I am perhaps one or two episodes behind, but I'm going to try my absolute best to post up two posts tomorrow, that way by Friday I'll be completely up to date. I hope you've all enjoyed reading, I've quite enjoyed writing this post! I'll be back tomorrow. Goodnight everyone! Love you all! xXx

[rjmorrisonuniverse-blog]

Nolan and the One-Hook Day

1. NOLAN

 What a shit storm of a day.

Distilled angst, chain of events, cosmic joke funnel, harpoon of the gods.

I know as I sit near him that I will have to throw the best punch I have ever thrown; one with technique and violent finality. I'll have to lift up from the chair, slide it back as I tell him "I'm going for a piss", and deliver the perfect right hook that begins from my heel and gains muscle torque up the calf, thigh and buttocks. I'll pivot with it as I rise and all my years of practice should unconsciously find that sweet spot on his jawline. I have to throw for a kill.

One chance or else big trouble.

Even I know that you don't get into punch-ups with massive off-duty cops.

One knockout hook, and an expedient exit through the side door on the far end of that pool table. It has to be soon, before the after work crowd shows up and this shit-hole becomes witness city. Before the pork behemoth gets even nastier and I run out of time. You bet your ass the pig reference is intended; this guy has the face of a swine. Mammoth jarhead on a stump neck with beady red rimmed eyes and nose vascularity that bespeaks years of hard drink. His voice is gravel, whisky phlegm and flat hard, and his salt and pepper goatee has an ugly way of framing an unsmiling mouth.

Motherfucking pig, prick, douchebag.

 I guess we should backtrack some. My name is Nolan. You don't need the surname, so get over it right now. I work for a metal stamping plant, and we make mostly automobile fenders. The job pays well but the environment is a hell on earth; a gargantuan space lit by low sodium lamps that hang forty feet above the floor. Two-storey tall machines that thump and roar like monsters starved for metal and perhaps human flesh, and a long shift there with earplugs inserted and legs taking shock after shock wave is about as otherworldly a job as I've ever had.

Is it any wonder I amped up my mixed martial arts training and aimed at the UFC?

Lunch breaks at A.G. Simpson were hilarious, as the zombies filed into the cafeteria in various states of exhaustion, depression, hangover, debt, disillusion. Even there, with the long bank of windows that overlooked the main work area below, the fucking lighting was brutal. In your face harshness, bad food, a sickly mint green high gloss paint on the cinder block walls... I mean, no amount of overtime could justify my being there and ONLY there to make ends meet. I remember a painting crew that was hired to spray the ceilings and recoat the washrooms, and those guys were freaked OUT by the vibe. They took their breaks in the cafeteria too, cursing themselves for not bringing their own food to the job, bitching about the watery vending machine coffee, and more than a dozen times asking us "how the fuck do you stand working here?"

So, given my size and mindset coupled with a love for man-to-man conflict resolution, it was a no-brainer for me to embark on a little side action in the octagon. I started as a gangly kid with the amateur boxing and proved a quick study with natural power in each hand. Even with the headgear and twelve ounce gloves I was knocking people out cold, and sparring partners too. I always seemed to have that mean in me, but as lady luck, that rotten bitch, would have it... I was a "cutter". If I didn't knock his ass out in the first couple of rounds, sooner or later I'd be bleeding. Bottom lip, bridge of nose, and for a brief stint in the pro circuit, both eyelids. I was an undefeated slugger fighting out of a loser gym, punching for power and lantern jawed, but that goddamned skin of mine  pushed me toward MMA combat, and that was fine by me. I didn't like my fellow man as a rule, and most days, hitting him made more sense than conversation.

I started out lucky, through a cousin who was being trained in the Pat Miletich camp, and found myself under the tutelage of the great man himself. I could list details about the intensive training that mixed kickboxing and Jiu-jitsu, Pat's karate methods and a stripped down version of Thai boxing that seemed best suited to my power... I could talk about the first dozen fights in Iowa, all victories by knockout in the first round.

I was busting my hump at the metal stamping plant all day, training five nights a week, and taking fights for shit money anywhere they would put me. Eventually I was given an opportunity to match up against a name opponent, even though his career was on the downward spiral, and representatives from the UFC were ringside. That was one motherfucker of a highlight reel knockout, let me tell it. My six foot four two hundred fifty pound hammer was primed to drop and I don't mind saying that poor bastard was knocked out during the stare down. Stoked? Homicidal.

The first thing he attempted was a leg kick, and in missing, he presented me with a clean shot at his mandible. I saw his eyes go all wide and wild just as I uncorked a sweet left uppercut and felt that indescribable delicious shock of connection when it exploded on the sleep spot under his chin. He was out before his head bounced off the canvas, and even today the debate continues about what killed him; the punch or that heavy landing. My celebrations ended when I saw that he wasn't getting up, and by the time the stretcher arrived I knew it was serious. I won't lie to you. I won't say it chewed me up inside that my opponent died a week later. These are gladiators and they go into it fully aware of the dangers. Highly skilled, trained to the nth degree, all it takes between two combatants in that arena is a nanosecond of error and somebody's lights go out.

Permanent injury, career ending injury? Not common, but I wasn't a common hitter either. Maybe we can thank my father for that. Every opponent wore his face and I don't throw to win. I throw to injure.

I was told that a contract was being drawn up for me in the aftermath of that fight; that all the way up to Dana White's office, the name "Nolan" was being spoken as the next money magnet. Then that poor bitch died and the contract offer was postponed until the media hornets nest died, too. I was pissed, maybe even a little at myself, and for sure at the man whose physically abusive ways had forged the fires that shaped me.

Two weeks later, I busted up one of Miletich's top young prospects during a heated sparring exchange, and that was the end of my UFC dream. Back to the zombie show at A.G. Simpson I went, and no amount of prying from fellow workers would get me to talk about just how close I had come to fame and financial freedom. Fuck it, fuck them, and fuck dreams. That became my mantra, and I withdrew into a mean sonofabitch's shell. Nobody messed with me back then.

Well, not until I took on that part time gig as a bouncer at Bunny's strip club. That was where I met Sherry-Ann.

  2. SHERRY-ANN

  Here in the bottom of the barrel tavern, I motion to the waiter for two more pints and listen to the gravelly voice of the big prick sitting at the corner of the table. He's talking about his failed marriages, the failings of the judicial system, the failure of society to appreciate what he does for a living. Failure? I'll show the motherfucker failure. Then, as the waiter sets down two more pints, I hear off-duty pig's speech beginning to slur.

"You shoulda been a cop". He fixes his cold eyes on me, looking at my down-to-the-wood hairstyle and clean cut features. He's bitching about the career path and in his next beery breath he's pitching a sale.

"My woman wouldn't have anything to do with me if I was a cop", I tell his stump of a face while Sherry-Ann drops the needle down on some distant memory that plays a song of sex and rage. Pig-mug leers into his ale, and I glance down at the broad knuckles across my right hand, square and knobby and designed for pain delivery. I had been forming a fist as he bitched about his marriages, and now I force myself to flatten out the fingers on my thigh.

 You may have thought that Sherry-Ann was a stripper, based on my mention of the club where I watched the door and floor. Nothing against the girls inside who worked the laps for money, but I would never date a peeler. I fucked a couple of them when I first took the job because they were practically throwing it at me. These all-American clean cut features of mine would have been enough, but toss in some nasty scar tissue and my indifferent conduct, and it was shooting fish in a barrel time. I don't pretend to understand the mind of a woman, but there is a fundamental truth about their being attracted to rough men. They may not love us in a lasting way, but a lot of them want us between their legs.

My first weekend on the job, on the Saturday shift, this feature dancer "Savannah" kept taking her breaks in the entrance lobby, near the door and near me. Nothing wrong with my meat radar, and I knew where the harpoon was headed. This joint, "Bunny's", was a rough place in a nasty part of southside downtown. Blood spatter on the sidewalk out front was common, and in time a lot of it was extracted by yours truly in the doing of his job; I always thought it funny how these down and out motherfuckers could find money for beer and lap dances. How many of them had wives and hungry children at home?

Some of them came in looking for trouble, pissed off at the world, and I took pleasure when reducing their dietary needs to soup. The owner of the place didn't give a shit how we did our duty, as long as the money came in and the cops stayed away and the girls were kept happy. So, when Savannah finished her final three song set of the night, instead of taking private dance requests she asked me if I would join her for a drink. Rose, the owner, cleared it with "Night's almost over... long as you keep an eye on the room."

Savannah and I shared a small table near the entrance door, and she did most of the talking while I admired her rack and scanned the patrons. Her body language was nothing less than a carnal invitation, with those shapely legs spread and her hand coming up often to touch my bicep, forearm, knee. A vacant, giggling, augmented and needy blonde caricature.

Shift finished, I invited her back to my two-bedroom apartment for a few more drinks and some good hard fucking, but on the way out the back door I first saw Sherry-Ann and she laid a burn job on my mind. She was leaning forward to talk to a potential client through the driver side window, and I caught sight of long-honed legs flowing up into a tightly rounded naked ass calling to me beneath her hiked black skirt. Statuesque, easily six feet without the twat-for-sale boots, and when she heard the back door squeal open and slam shut she turned for a second to shoot me and my companion a hard appraising look. The street lamp threw a sleazy orb over her beautiful features, with that young Margot Kidder sneer, too much lipstick and tumbling waves of ludicrous wig-red tresses tickling the mid back.

Untamed; that was the immediate impression. Lanky and dangerous and maybe a little crazy, and the kind of bedroom ride that was sure to be a roller coaster. We experienced that intense time-stand-still-eye-lock and I felt the kinetic energy between us that stayed with me all through the next two hours of sex with Savannah. That final climax, doggie style with her face pushed into the back of my sofa and her hands braced against the wall... that was another woman's bird I was basting. A woman I was determined to meet at the next opportunity. I remember drama-Savannah's look of injury when I handed her cab fare at four in the morning and bluntly told her I needed to sleep alone. She tried to protest and I gave it to her straight - "We both got what we wanted tonight, and now it's time for you to piss off."

 "You really shoulda been a cop, I'm telling you."

I nod as if in agreement, look at the clock above the bar and realize that I'll have to do my thing soon. Sherry-Ann will be expecting me home from work, completely unaware that my day is an official shit-storm only beginning to hit the fan. The huge man sitting with me lifts the pint of ale to his mouth, still glaring my way over the rim, and I see his police-issue service revolver sitting snugly in its shoulder holster. The open front of his brown suede jacket, the bulging stomach, massive arms barely contained by sleeves, and a pungent body odor of sickening complexity.

This doomed fuck doesn't have a clue that I followed him here.

3. PARENTING

  A week after I first laid eyes on Sherry-Ann's lanky goods, I was on duty at Bunny's with a sense of excitement that I hadn't felt in a long time. The shift was uneventful, and when I went through the back door, there she was at the end of the block with another chick. I thought about walking over to her, but decided to roll up in my Grand National. It was a hot night and she was sweetly tucked into a pair of high-riding denim shorts and a tight red t-shirt with black boots at the mid-calf; straight platinum blonde wig. I saw her eyes move from her companion as I rode up slowly, window down.

What a fucking body. Built for cock of Nolan. I can't explain the power of the attraction, and I had never considered paying for sex even once in my life. She just had that sneer, defiance, youthful strut and a physique to match. I'll admit that I had a soft spot for the ladies of the night, because my mother had been one, and I hate on pimps and everything they represent. Sure, I had some Travis Bickle in me, and Sherry-Ann was my Jodie Foster.

"Looking for a date?" her upper lip curled at the corner, and then I could see her remembering me from the weekend before. She smiled as I stopped, and her girlfriend took a long look through the windshield before casually strolling around the corner out of sight. "Hey, I remember you, stud."

Long story short, we did a little negotiating and she got in the car. I drove around the block and parked in behind Bunny's near the fire escape and garbage bins. Very romantic. Turned out that Sherry-Ann was new to this stroll, and didn't fuck. She was oral only, and I had to wear a jimmy hat Her old man was a biker-type who also had a piece of the action in the very club where I worked; a few girls who took on after hours customers at his command. He'd taken a shine to his newest meat, and didn't want Sherry-Ann riding any cock but his. I was as stiff as a fucking girder when she started stroking me through the dress slacks, but when I tried to enjoy her tits she moved my hand away gently, bending to unzip me and set the crowbar free. As soon as she started rolling that goddamned rubber over the head I could feel myself losing the erection.

"This isn't how I want it" I told her flatly, and she froze, raised herself back up and looked me long in the eyes. I remember thinking that I knew her from somewhere, maybe another life, and for the first time in my thirty four years I felt that I wanted something intensely. Her. "I wouldn't mind grabbing a coffee somewhere for half an hour, for the same money, if that's cool."

We started that way, and for weeks I would take her to a seedy twenty four hour diner near her stroll, to learn about her life and tell her about mine. Both of us were survivors of violent childhoods, but her father was nothing compared to the evil piece of shit that was mine. Her dad was heavy into the booze, gambling, and spousal abuse. My father was the angriest most self-entitled rage-aholic in existence, and from my first childhood memories it was his fists that marked my growth.

That prick verbally abused my mother and took sadistic pleasure in kicking the shit out of his only child. As I grew into a large teenager, the beatings escalated in duration and ferocity. He never told me why he hated me, but I knew instinctively that my life had been an accident... a miserable wait around that cocksucker's reality. As Sherry-Ann and I shared these sad stories over coffee, we could feel a mutual caring develop between us, and I always had that sexual hunger for her.

In time, she trusted me enough to explain that she wanted to get away from "Roy", who was becoming increasingly demanding and violent. He'd brought in another girl from the bus terminal, and that was his new top bitch. Sherry-Ann had to start earning like the other girls, and when she told me that, I took care of the situation for her. I spent a couple of weeks in hiding, watching for this fucker, and quickly enough I was able to figure out his schedule. He'd roll around just after the sun went down, in a beat up blue panel van, and again after three in the morning to collect the pussy rent... I waited for the Thursday of the third week, told Sherry-Ann exactly what I planned to do, ignored her warnings and pleas, and when Roy showed up later that night for his money...

Nolan came out of the shadows across the street. Roy was in the driver's seat, window down, in conversation with one of the other girls and I casually walked around the back of the van to push his bitch out of the way with my right hand before looping a short left hook into the center of his face; it had brutal follow-through and Roy's head whiplashed before he hit the bench seat sideways. Two of the girls started running away, but Sherry-Ann stayed for the show. I yanked open the door and grabbed a generous handful of beard and long hair, pulled the semi-conscious Roy back to a sitting position. The blood was cascading out of what remained of his nose, down his shirt and vest, all over the money he had dropped into his lap. I gave him a good shake and his eyes rolled open, tried to focus, and before he could attempt anything I drove a hateful straight left into his open mouth, putting him OUT. I loved the sight of him sagging back to a lying position in a grotesque slow motion of jaw-hanging gore. "Sherry-Ann is with ME from now on" I shouted into the cab, and who knows if he heard it or not...

"Call an ambulance for this piece of shit, and let's go get your things." An hour and two pieces of luggage later, Sherry-Ann took refuge in my apartment. A roach-infested den of depression and about as dead end as it gets for a pretty young runaway of twenty three. We had sex for the first time that night; a two-way act of consumption that I won't ever forget. We felt like we knew each other far beyond those few weeks of talking, and her forthright way of telling me how to fuck her, how to do the things that she needed done, the way her sexy mouth formed a leering curve when she came so hard and violently around me. It would be a long time before she heard it, but when I called in sick the next morning, I was sure I could love her.

Roy? He hadn't seen what hit him. I heard that he lost most of his upper and lower plate, had to have his nose reconstructed, and a few weeks after that night he and his women vanished from Bunny's and the block. Sherry-Ann settled in with me, took a waitressing job, and we fell into a year-long calm spell... I had saved almost all of my earnings over the past eight years and we made plans to get a house together outside the city core. We had a friendship and the sex was ferocious, but there were hurdles to overcome. I helped Sherry-Ann quit the glass pipe, and she helped me open up.

 Which brings me back to this nameless drinking hole and the large man sharing a scarred wooden table with me. Brings me to a heartbeat of hate, and the day that marked the history of Nolan with a river of tainted blood.

 4. SHIT, MEET THE FAN

 A Friday that began like any other, with the five thirty alarm. Sherry-Ann's warmth against me under the sheets, and the new anticipation of weekend reward in my life. I gave up the bouncer gig at the strip club to spend weekends with my woman, and for the first time ever I had days to look forward to during the workweek. Long lazy mornings in bed together, watching television, having sex, lost in conversation... me, the short fuse with lots on his mind and little to say. Simple, beautiful hours.

That Friday I ate my breakfast alone then walked quietly into the bedroom to kiss Sherry-Ann on the forehead as she slept. Me, the guy who told himself he would never give a shit about anyone... she was asleep on her side, dark brown hair fanned out across the pillow. I ran it through my fingers to make myself believe again that this amazing change had come to my existence, and then left to make the half hour trip to the A.G. Simpson metal stamping plant. I first noticed the horizon of fire when I made the turn into the industrial park on Laird avenue; jet black smoke billowing upward to form the devil's cloud cover, licked from below by a massive wall of flame. I hit the gas and felt my guts sink into the comfortable abyss of my usual state of being, knowing what I was going to see at the end of the avenue, reaching for the radio as I saw the rows of cars lining each side and stopped by a phalanx of police cruisers, ambulances, and fire trucks. The all-news station was on the scene and I learned that a huge explosion had ripped through my place of employment, killing four workers and injuring dozens of others.

"Jesus H. Fuck!" I pulled over and parked on the strip of grass adjacent to the two lane blacktop, got out to watch the blaze. Co-workers either sat in their cars or stood around in groups, shaking their heads at the sight of the apocalypse before them. A couple of them acknowledged me with nods, but most of them ignored me. I told you before, people tended to avoid me and I like it that way. I asked a couple of the guys what they knew, and nobody had shit for info other than the explosion happened just before dawn. Fuck me, I kept thinking, there goes work for a while. Maybe for good if the place is gutted.

I went back to the car, sat and watched the show, and after a couple of hours it occurred to me that I should just go the fuck home to be with the only person I cared about before she went in to work her half day. All the way back toward the small house we were renting, my mind was in a fog that reminded me of the worst of times during my childhood. My sixteenth birthday, when the man who called himself my father arrived to take me out of school because my mother had overdosed on heroin. Waiting in the hospital as she fought her last battle, he found a way to blame me, and that night after her death the beating he dished out had me fearing for my own life. I fought him back for the first time, and even though I hurt that motherfucker, he got the best of me and I spent two days in my room bruised, battered, and determined to leave. Two weeks later, he went in to work the night shift and I escaped. Some day I'll tell you about those first few months... I did things to survive that no one should resort to. If not for my mother's sister, I wouldn't be here today to break deserving skulls.

A half block away from the house I could see a car in the parking pad. A rusty Pontiac Laurentian, dented along the passenger doors and crusted with dirt. What the fuck? I glanced at my watch and it came from the stomach up to my throat; a sick knowledge of a thought that I stopped from forming... without realizing it I was on the brake and slowing. Ten in the morning on a day I'm not supposed to be here until five thirty. She goes to work at twelve, comes home before five. I put the car in reverse and backed up to park against the curb about a dozen houses away from mine, killed the engine and sat in silence. I watched the car in the driveway, looked at the front of the bungalow that framed the inevitable act of betrayal that life had in store for guys like me. For the first time in nearly twenty years I didn't take immediate action. I couldn't, man. I was paralyzed with a cold sweating fear, choking on a feeling like being trapped in a plunging elevator. There was no rationalizing in the car that morning as I sat there watching and so certain that Sherry-Ann was in there destroying us with another man who was soon to pay a price beyond reason.

Almost two hours went by, in a blur, before I decided to leave the car. I strolled over to the house, slowly and not feeling anything I can describe. I was thinking about a movie that I'd seen called "Into The Night", where the main character played by Jeff Goldblum comes home early to find his wife screwing someone. As I walked between my place and the neighbour's, around the side to the back bedroom window, my mind went numb. I always knew that God had put me here in this body for a lifetime of getting fucked. Life is a better fuck than pussy. Life is a twenty four and seven joystick, motherfuckers.

Our bedroom windows bottomed at eye level. An air conditioner filled the lower section of the far pane, so I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through the glass of the east frame... the blinds weren't dropped all the way down to the sill and I was able to make out the two shapes on our bed. The bottom of the bed faced the windows, giving me a clear enough look at his big legs and ass as he pumped his erection into her. I felt a scary chill of calm for a moment, watching his balls move back and forth as he rode that beautiful pussy and blocked her from my view through sheer bulk. The sight of her long naked legs, one bent upward and one straightened, and a small hand gripping the blankets... that started the tears and I turned away quickly to walk back to the car.

Those were the longest two hours of my life, longer even than the wait for news about my mother that afternoon in the hospital. I'm not a smoker, so I sat and chewed gum in silence, waiting and getting used to the idea that once again, the dream is over. Fuck life, fuck love, and fuck dreams. Welcome back to reality. You fell for a whore, asshole. She's been turning tricks on the side all this past year and you bought the Hallmark card version of what it should have been and isn't. Last Friday had been a good fucking day that lasted clear through until the following Monday, and THIS one is the end of the world as you know it. Job, woman? Fuck you. Gone.

 The bartender, myself and this half drunken off-duty pig, plus six others who sit at the bar on the far side of this shit-hole. Four hours ago I watched this man leave my house through the front door, as though it were his, and casually get into his old Pontiac. I gave him a decent head start and then followed him across town into the city core. He parked in front of a tired brownstone on the south side, got out and lumbered up the stoop past a sign that read "short term rentals available", and I parked further up the street and did some more waiting. Him first, her later. I couldn't believe it and yet it made perfect sense. I'd deal with him, then Sherry-Ann would get one chance to explain this to me. Just one. I turned to lean against the driver's door, stretched my legs out across the seats, flexed my fingers, and watched the front door of that brownstone. When I made the decision to stop waiting he emerged from the building wearing the same clothes, and I followed him to the fucking dive that now serves as the shit-storm epicentre.

I gave it fifteen minutes before I entered the nameless hole. It took my eyes a moment to adjust from bright afternoon to damaged liver gloom, and the smell of piss and old beer and sweat that hit me like a swinging back-fist. All eyes turned at my entrance, but he was hunched over a pint and facing away from the front door and was the only one not to see me come in. I went straight to the bartender and asked him in a low voice what "that guy over there" was drinking, ordered two pints, and walked the length of the room to his table.

I set the pints down in the middle of the tabletop and pull out a chair around the corner from his, and he looks first at me and then the beer. Back at me, eyes widening as I lower myself and bore lasers into his pupils. "Still a cop?" I slide one pint toward him and raise mine up for a good swallow. He doesn't answer right away, staring me in the face, sizing me up, lost in something... "YOU shoulda been a cop" he mutters. "I followed you here" I tell him right away, let it soak in for a moment. "From the place where I'm staying?" he runs a huge hand through his goatee and greying hair. "No, from my place... the factory where I work is burning today."

He nods slowly, looking down into his beer... "been looking for you, son."

"I've never been your son, mister. I have the scars to prove it."

"I heard you left the city to stay with your aunt for a long time... " his voice trails off in memory. "So you found out where I live, dropped by for a friendly visit, did you?" He smirks a little and I almost throw the bomb right then, but it isn't the right time... I'm throwing for a kill, remember. I play it like I don't mind that he found me, and of course he has no idea that I saw him fucking my woman... no idea that as I sit here getting psyched up to stop his motherfucking heart, my own has been smashed. "So here I am, sir. What can I do for you?" he smirks again.

And it goes like that for nearly an hour, as this beastly childhood force sits next to me and attempts to... what? Atone for something? Correct the damage that he inflicted on his only child? I sit here and listen to his talk about the difficulty of losing my mother, and the failed second and third marriages. I let him ramble through his anger, and I hear nothing but an older version of the gigantic negative force that took all of my potential and crushed it into a compact life-hating machine. I can't even come up with one iota of pity for this prick, and now it's Sherry-Ann I'm thinking of as I glance again at the wall clock and decide it's time. How she could betray me... us... like that, and with THIS of all monsters.

"Tell me something" I interrupt his self pitying rant about spineless judges. "How much did you pay?" He looks at me stupidly, one bushy eyebrow lifting. "For Sherry-Ann this morning" I raise my voice a notch. "What did that cost you?" His hand comes up with the pint as he says "I didn't pay" and I slide the chair back, start the hook from my hip as I rise and pivot to throw thirty five years of poison through my torso and shoulder and forearm and fist as a projectile unlike any I've ever unleashed. Instinctively aimed for his heavy jawline as he tries to react too late, jerking beer over the rim of his glass when I land it and envision my knuckles removing his lower face. The jolt of it through my arm is like an orgasm and he and the chair hit the floor as though a wrecking ball has swung into the tavern. I'm not even looking at the others in the room, and in one chain of events I squat to look at his hanging jaw and the teeth that he is pushing out of his mouth with a bleeding tongue.

The cocksucker is still conscious but the force of the hook has probably broken his neck. I've never seen a head swivel like that. I grab a handful of vest and start dragging him across the floor as the witnesses just begin to realize what has happened, maybe not even giving a damn in a place this rough. I drag the piece of shit across the floor and his face is hitting the legs of chairs, his arms are limp. The bartender yells "hey! take that shit out of here" and I feel a nasty smile crack my mouth. The door near the pool table has one of those metal bars on it that you push, so I lift up my prey with both hands and ram his face into it. Outside in the late afternoon sunshine I can see that his fucking head looks like a shotgun suicide, and his breath is heavy and blood thick. There's a big blue garbage dumpster around back, and I drag him face down by the vest collar, hearing his gun scrape along the asphalt, feeling the swelling along the top of my hand. 

I prop him up in a sitting position against the dumpster and step back to deliver a looping head kick to his temple. His skull whiplashes and he hits the parking lot on his right side. I feel myself nod in agreement, then finish him off with a short toe kick to the throat. From the moment I first hit him to the lifting and tossing of his body into the dumpster I have been outside of myself. I take one final look at his imploded features and spit on them, dropping the metal lid down on the fucking garbage.

Do you think the blades of the fan are now filled with shit? No. There's just one more detail to cap my Friday to end all Fridays. I drive back to my house, just ahead of rush hour traffic. My hand is swollen and cut where I clipped his teeth. My mind is a seething pit of rage and fatality. I don't care about a fucking thing at this point other than to have Sherry-Ann look at me with her gorgeous eyes and talk me out of this crescendo. Tell me it was a moment of weakness, of old habits dying hard... tell me what you have to but tell me everything will be okay.

I pull into the driveway, enter the house, and see that she is home early. Her purse and shoes and waitress outfit are all in the living room. The house is silent and I walk quickly down the middle hall toward the last room on the left where she is lying in bed with her eyes wide open and the belt from her bathrobe knotted up around her neck. My breath hitches in my chest. I turn on the ceiling light. The bedsheets are on the floor, the pillow case beneath her spattered in blood, the tip of her tongue is showing between bloody lips. I nod again in agreement with the universe. Nolan is getting cosmic-fucked now. How DARE I fall in love? Who am I to change what I am?

In an echo of my earlier gesture that morning, I bend over Sherry-Ann to kiss her forehead, then close her eyelids. No tears now. I pack one piece of luggage, turn off the bedroom light, and get into the car to head for the nearest automatic teller. I'll get a hotel room and tomorrow I clear out my savings. Nolan blows this town forever. I'm on a mission now, and before I'm finished people will know about me from coast to coast.

Every lowlife motherfucker in every shitty part of every city has it coming, and I'm the delivery boy.

[mosylufanfic]

Me and My Shadow

I was digging around in my files, as I am wont to do, and I found this story from last season, about 95% finished. Remember when they basically had no scenes at all together? And we were all starving for any little bit of Killervibe we could get? This is something of what I wanted to see after S4′s mid-season finale.

Just as a refresher, this takes place toward the end of the episode where Amunet Black kidnapped Caitlin, locked dampening cuffs on her. Before that happened, however, Caitlin discovered that Cisco, Harry, and Ralph all had private jokes and funny stories about hanging out with Killer Frost.

This story isn’t overtly romantic but it is about Cisco and Caitlin’s relationship at that point in the show. Title from the 1927 song, sung by oh so many people.

Me and My Shadow

Cisco peered at the power dampener Amunet Black had fastened around Caitlin's wrist. "Who designed this, the Incredible Hulk?" He tapped it. "Could it get any bigger and clunkier? Ugh. I'm so offended."

"Me, too, considering it held me prisoner," Caitlin said dryly. She waved her wrist a little, inviting him to look at the catch. It was a heavy-duty metal latch with wires woven over it in some way he couldn't quite follow. "Can we remove this, please?"

"Oh, yeah." He opened the toolkit he'd brought upstairs from his lab and pulled out some wire snips and an electric saw.

"Careful!" she said.

He paused. "It's not gonna blow up if I don't snip the right wire, is it?"

She angled her wrist. "No, but it's got spikes on the inside. It's part of the function somehow."

Now he could see them, thin metal needles piercing her flesh. A few dots of blood smeared her skin.

"Shit!" He yanked his hand away. All his poking and prodding must have been digging them in even further. Why the hell hadn't she said anything before this?

Probably the same reason she'd waited to ask him to remove it until after Dominic Lanse had been taken to a hospital and thoroughly checked over. Caitlin putting herself last again.

Another thought occurred. "Oh, fuck, it's not stabbing your veins or anything, is it?"

She touched the inside of her wrist. "No, it's just the top and sides."

"Well, that was nice of her," he said sarcastically, and got to work on the catch. The design might offend every aesthetic bone in his body, but it was doing the job very well. He could feel his own powers going a little fuzzy and wobbly, this close to it. And it also seemed to have solved the power issue he'd struggled with so much. He was going to have a look at this when he got it off her wrist.

She was quiet while he worked, and while he normally would have chattered and joked, all his lightness seemed like it was trapped underneath a boulder in the pit of his stomach.

Yelling at Ralph had helped some, but he still felt like a turd. Sure, Caitlin, the nasty, mean alter ego that you never wanted is our favorite new buddy. Yeah, we have a great time with her! We have inside jokes and everything!

He knew she knew he hadn't meant it like that. But just because he hadn't meant it didn't mean it hadn't hurt her. He remembered the look in her eyes.

And Harry had gone to apologize first. Harry! When Harry I-Can-Only-Relate-to-Other-Versions-of-Myself Wells was doing better at friending than you, that was kind of a bad sign.

He'd come for her. He'd rescued her from Amunet Black. She had to know he valued her more than Killer Frost. Right?

Yeah, he'd come for her, but so had fucking Ralph.

He glanced up, wondering how to start saying he was sorry, and found her staring off into space, looking thoughtful.

"Hey," he said, and her eyes came back around. They looked like root beer in this light, the way he liked them best. He smiled at her. "What's churning your butter, cup?"

"Just thinking how nice it was to handle something on my own for once, instead of having to depend on my mean roommate."

His stomach dropped. "Caitlin - "

She looked at her wrist. "Maybe you should leave this on."

"Leave on the spiky hurty ugly accessory? That's a hard no," he said, and snipped one last wire. "Lay your hand down and keep vewwy vewwy still," he added in his best Elmer Fudd imitation.

She smiled absently and flattened her palm to her lab table. He turned on the circular saw and started cutting through the lock. It was tough stuff, and he had to stop a couple of times to switch out the blade. Finally, the bracelet cracked in two, and he switched off the saw before it brushed her skin.

She pulled the cuff open, wincing as the spikes tugged out of her flesh, and let it clatter to the table. Now she wore a cuff of tiny pinpricks, welling with blood. It wasn't a good look, in Cisco's opinion.

"Mmm," she said, grimacing at the injuries. "I'd better get this cleaned up and bandaged." She rummaged in some drawers.

"Frost up," he suggested before he thought, and felt his stomach drop again. God. He'd stepped in it again. "Just - just to get rid of that," he added quickly. "Let her hypermetabolism take care of it."

"It's fine," she said, not looking at him as she wiped each pinprick down with a sterile wipe. "It's good. You should get along with people who are fighting alongside you." She tossed a used one, pink with blood, into the biohazard bin and pulled another one from the dispenser.

"Look, don't pretend we didn't hurt your feelings."

"They're my feelings," she said. "I'll handle them."

"Yeah, that's a skill you excel at."

She gave him a withering look. "I had a bad evening. I got over it."

"Okay, then how about letting me apologize?"

"You have nothing to apologize for. You can have friends other than me. You do have friends other than me. It's selfish and self-centered to be jealous of that."

She recited it as if it was something she'd said to herself over and over again.

"It's human to feel left out," he said. "And I was part of making you feel left out, and I'm really sorry for that."

"Yes, and I handled it." She bowed her head over her wrist, dabbing antiseptic cream on the marks. "Thanks for getting that cuff off me. You should probably clean it." She handed him a container of Q-tips and a bottle of ethanol.

He took them back to the table where the cuff still sat, dark and powerless now. He started cleaning the spikes, watching the white cotton soak up pink blood. He found he was gritting his teeth.

Why wouldn't she smile and accept his apology?

Why wouldn't she just let him feel better about seeming to prefer her darker side?

Why couldn't he just go back to thinking that she'd made peace with Killer Frost, now that she wasn't one of the bad guys, and didn't have any feelings about her divided self whatsoever?

Just like he was perfectly fine with the thought of Reverb, or any of his other evil doppelgangers that infested the multiverse. Oh yeah. No misgivings there at all.

He let out his breath and tossed the Q-tip down.

"You know," he said, "eight months ago, you never would have convinced me that there could be anything I liked about Killer Frost, but I do."

Caitlin looked up, but didn't say anything. She just watched him, silent, her face flat and expressionless.

"She's tough. A survivor. A fighter. She sees what needs to be done and gets it done. She's smart and she thinks on her feet. Every time she throws down, I swear she has three or four nifty new tricks that never even crossed my mind."

"Okay," she said. "I get it. You don't have to keep singing her praises."

He went to her and took her tight shoulders in his. "And you know what? Everything I like best about her is something she gets from you."

Her eyes met his. They were darker now.

"Tough. Smart. Creative. Gets the job done. Sound familiar?"

"A fighter, though?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not a fighter. I run and I hide," she said bitterly. "Just like Harry told me to do at Jitters. I didn't even try and bring her out until I was cornered, and that didn't work."

"Have you ever once run and hid when someone needed medical help?"

"That's different."

"I dunno if it is. That's your wheelhouse. Kicking ass is Frost's. Use the right tool for the right purpose. Killer Frost isn't always the right choice for what needs to get done."

She was quiet for a long moment. "Amunet Black said something like that."

He recoiled. "She did?"

Caitlin shrugged. "She wanted me to get the job done. She probably could have threatened me some more, but she took the logic route and pointed out why she needed me, not Frost. It worked. I got the job done."

Okay. He officially sucked as a friend. Amunet Black had figured out what Caitlin needed to hear before he had. That she, Caitlin, was valuable and valued, that her skills weren't lesser, that she was strong and effective in her own way.

He tried to make his voice light. "Much as I hate to agree with someone with that dated of a hairstyle, she had a point. We couldn't do what we do without you."

Her eyes searched his and then she sighed. Not a resigned sigh or an unhappy one. There was relief in it. As if she was letting out a breath she'd held for too long.

Then she hugged him, hard and quick. "Thank you," she said.

"Anytime," he said. "Really, I mean it. Anytime you're feeling conflicted over your morally ambiguous doppelganger, talk to me."

"It's not her state of evil or good," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, obviously I would rather she's fighting against the bad guys rather than alongside them. But it's - " She rubbed her wrists again. "It was easier when she was the bad one and I was the good one, and I had good things - like friends - and she didn't."

"I don't think either of you are that simple," he said. "I don't think anything's that simple."

She toyed with the q-tips. "The thing is," she said, brows drawn together, "I've spent my entire life trying not to show it when I'm scared, or angry, or upset, or even just sad."

"That's not news," he pointed out. He still remembered nearly a year of her flat, expressionless face after the explosion.

"Because nobody has time for that," she went on. "You know? Nobody wants to put up with that. People like a cheerful, helpful, smart little girl. Nobody likes a crybaby who can't do anything."

One day, Cisco reflected, he really was going to go find Mama Snow and punch her in the mouth. He didn't like hitting women, even the ones that hit him first, but boy, could he make an exception.

"So I tried to be cheerful and helpful and smart, and if I couldn't manage to fake any of those, I could at least push down all the bad feelings and show nothing. Until last year. I stopped being able to push things down. And in a way, it made sense that when I lost control of all my rage and my fear, that I lost you. All of you. Because that's what you get. Nobody wants you if you're like that."

He opened his mouth.

She aimed him a look. "And yes, Cisco, I know that I lost all of you because she joined forces with Savitar and was instrumental in H.R.s death and Iris's attempted murder. I understand that. I'm not stupid."

He had been going to say, she'd lost them because she'd left, but that was a fair point, too. "As long as you get there's a difference."

"I do," she said. "On a logical level. But when I realized that she was coming back, I tried to run, because I couldn't bear to lose you all again like that."

He refrained from pointing out that she would have lost them anyway.

"And then I didn't," she said. "And then I realized that you actually liked her. You have jokes together, you like fighting alongside her, Ralph thinks she's sexy. "

"Ralph tried to hit on a lamppost the other day," he pointed out. "Just saying."

"And in that case, what's the point? What's my reward for fighting down the worst parts of myself, if it isn't to keep my friends?"

"Look," he said, taking her hands. "You're going to have to figure that out yourself. I think the past year has shown that no outside influence is going to work to get a handle on Killer Frost. Power-dampening cuffs, solar necklaces, whatever it was that Black gave you - none of that, on its own, is ever going to be a permanent solution. You've got to get a handle on her yourself, for yourself, because it's the best thing for you. But while you're doing that, here's something I think you should keep in mind."

"What?"

"We like you," he said. "We like you when you're being smart and cheerful and helpful, yeah. But we also like you when you're snarly and mean, or sad, or upset. I like you. You don’t have be perfect to be our friend. You just have to be you." He waved at her up and down, trying to encompass her entirety. "Everything you are."

She swallowed hard. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said, starting to go back to the dampener cuff. He paused. "By the way, your mom is wrong."

She looked up. "My mom?"

"Yeah. When she told you all that stuff about how nobody likes little girls who aren't sweet and nice all the time."

"Oh, Cisco, My mom didn't tell me that."

He blinked. "Who did, then?"

She shook her head, smiling at him a little. "Nobody had to tell me. All little girls know that."

"Well, they're wrong," he said.

She tilted her head. The smile got sharper; colder. "Are they?"

FINIS

[shadowsong26fic]

The Handler AU

As requested by @tigerkat24.

(I do also have fulltext for one scene in here, which will be posted and linked here in the near future, probably tomorrow, after I clean it up some.)

Right. So. A couple of notes before I get started:

1) This AU prominently features Lavinia, and also super self-indulgent. Gonna say that straight-out. This is me and my OC and a bunch of tropes I adore. It is not the most self-indulgent piece I’ve ever put together, but it’s probably up there. I say this because, while I am pretty much past the point as a fan/content creator/whatever where I’m ashamed of my self-indulgent BS, I understand that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, especially when it’s as obvious as this piece is. And I like people to know at least in general terms what they’re getting into when they open a piece of mine. So, you know, bear that in mind as you move forward.

2) Because of the way I work/develop AUs/OCs/etc., there are certain personality traits/satellite characters/plot points that are common to all/most of Lavinia’s storylines (...yeah, it’s a Thing I do, with OCs yeah but also with OC-free AUs and AUs of AUs and ‘hey what if I changed this plot point here, or put OC B in this situation instead of that one, or stuck Canon D in...look, y’all have seen my Distaff variants, you know the kind of thing I’m talking about; I don’t always stop at a single layer of canon-divergence, but then there has to be a thread connecting everything, or it becomes a totally different story/character, right? ...I’m not sure I’m explaining this very well. ...anyway, back on topic). As a result, despite being an AU of a completely different AU, this outline is therefore somewhat spoilery for a future Precipice arc. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve hinted at where I’m going with her in the fic proper and/or bonus content, or at least I’ve tried to, (plus, I know I’ve mentioned some things here on tumblr about particular narrative/character tropes I like), so it’s probably not too surprising? Or, at least, I hope it’s not. If it is, I need to get better at foreshadowing… Anyway, it is still technically a spoiler. To the point where I considered sitting on this (and a couple related AUs) at least until a particular event from Arc Seven that makes said future storyline about as clear as it can be until it actually happens. But…I decided ehhhhhh, why not (plus this was requested). But, you know, if that is something you want to avoid, might be best not to read this outline until after Arc…nine, I think? Just as a head’s up.

3) This is essentially a Kallus-centric Rebels fic (though, as mentioned above, also prominently featuring one of my OCs). And, other than that one bit in the Valdemar AU I wrote a month or so ago, this is the first time I’ve actually written Rebels content. (…granted, I’ve plotted more things--the closely-related Pellaeon AU features Rebels stuff pretty heavily, as does the middle arc of the Valdemar AU, which started as ‘Anakin would do really well as a Herald actually’ and has now turned into a massive three-part kudzu plot of a niche crossover and I should really redo that outline properly at some point, plus a few other things…) Anyway, the point is, I’m not necessarily super familiar with the conventions/etc. of this part of the fandom, and I apologize for any off-voice bits.

Okay! Now that I have warned for spoilers, inexperience, and self-indulgent BS…welcome to the Handler AU.

Oh, one more thing I want to mention—because this is, as stated above, super self-indulgent, Kanan is still alive because I said so. He got pretty crisped in that explosion and therefore missed the final battle, but didn’t actually die.

(Imperial records may have listed him as dead for a while, because No One Could Have Survived That, but he did survive.)

(How? IDK, maybe Ezra actually was able to do something from the between-place in this version.)

(Point is, we still have Kanan.)

(Ezra and Thrawn are still on a road trip with a bunch of space whales, though.)

ANYWAY. On to the good stuff.

It all kicks off like two months after Yavin.

Some timeline notes:

Because timelining anything in Star Wars is A Project, I am making some executive decisions here.

We’re approximately a year after the Rebels series finale.

(Meaning Jacen is like 3-4 months old, depending on exactly how pregnant Hera was at the time.)

This is also about how long Zeb and Kallus have been explicitly dating.

(There was SO MUCH PINING going on for a while there.)

(But it took that long for either of them to actually do anything about it.)

(Kallus figured out pretty early on that he was interested, but didn’t really think he deserved this/had earned it yet/that Zeb could possibly be interested in him, and therefore decided to bury his feelings Like A Goddamn Professional Okay.)

(Zeb took a while longer to clue in, and then couldn’t figure out if this was just him or what--see above re: burying things; worked a little bit too well--plus he has his own issues to work through.)

(And then there were some frantic Confessions and so-glad-we’re-alive sex and…)

(Yeah, this is a thing now.)

(Exactly zero people who have spent any time with these two dorks at all are surprised.)

(As is so often the case, the last people to clue in that this was A Mutual Thing are the two idiots involved.)

(There may or may not have been a pool or three going.)

(Hera won at least one of them.)

So. Kallus has made himself useful wherever he can since openly defecting, really, but generally works analyzing intelligence reports and training field agents for potential undercover missions. Even if his specific information is getting more and more out of date (few, if any, of the codes, etc. that he knows are still valid at this point), some things aren’t going to change that quickly, and his background is useful here.

Anyway. He gets called in--

“We’ve been approached by a would-be double agent deep in Imperial territory; received three transmissions in the past few weeks. So far, everything we’ve been sent checks out/has been useful, but.”

“But you’re wondering if this agent is an ISB plant.”

“Exactly. She calls herself Vector.”

“She?”

“Yeah. The scrambler she’s using is doing its job, which means we can’t actually use a voice print to ID her, but vocal pattern analysis got us that much. And that she’s likely Coruscanti, Human, and under thirty. That’s about all we know.”

He goes over the data and the recordings from the first three contacts and nothing jumps out as a red flag/any of the tricks he’s familiar with.

On the first call, there’s some dancing around; as if Vector’s trying to make sure of who she’s talking to. What he’d expect from either a plant or a genuine defector, really. Not particularly helpful.

The other two are fairly brief/straightforward, and start the same way each time--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it. Also not particularly enlightening, given the question he’s been asked to answer.

The data itself, though, is--interesting. Not easy to access, for the most part, and not necessarily all from the same source. Parts of it are the kind of thing ISB would use as bait, but just as much of it is not. Some of it provides useful context for intel the Alliance has received from other sources (some covert, some not), which is not the kind of thing an ISB plant would send.

So, he goes back to his superiors and tentatively reports Vector as probably genuine. He wants to be on hand for her next transmission, though, to be sure.

(He wonders, idly, who they had evaluate his initial transmissions like this, or if using an established codename and protocol was enough…)

(He’s Concerned it might be the second.)

(There are some worrying gaps in Rebel Intelligence’s security that he can only do so much to patch.)

Of course, there’s a slight problem with that. Vector’s transmissions haven’t exactly been regular--the second one came four days after the first, and then it was nearly two weeks to the third.

And when they do come, they’re very brief, so if Kallus is, say, busy with a training exercise on the opposite side of the base…

(Or otherwise occupied in a supply closet.)

(He does have, y’know, a life when off-duty.)

(...which is something that still sends him into weird brainspirals of “how did this happen” and “i don’t deserve this” and “when is it going to blow up in my face” on occasion, but that is a separate problem. One that he buries. Like A Goddamn Professional.)

(no that’s not a habit of his why do you ask.)

IN ANY CASE, this means that it ends up being her sixth message, close to three weeks after Kallus is initially brought in, before he’s able to listen in live.

(Transmissions four and five, after he reviews them, don’t really change his analysis, but still.)

Transmission six comes in while Kallus happens to be in the tiny corner of the current base that Intelligence has claimed.

It starts like the others did--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

Once the file transfer initiates, he responds.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

(Okay, technically, he probably should be using a different handle now, since it’s really supposed to be for field agents only and he isn’t one anymore. And there are similar shared code names for Intelligence agents primarily on base duty, or he assumes there are, but even after over a year of not using it, it’s still the first one that comes to mind. Reflexive, almost. And now it’s going to stick.)

There’s a beat of silence from the other end, and Kallus is briefly concerned that he misjudged the situation, that she’d going to panic and cut the transmission.

But, “I can’t leave the link open long,” she says.

(Part of him thinks she sounds...almost relieved? Like she’s been waiting to be challenged like this, and the longer things went on without a test, the more nervous she got.)

(He can understand that worry. That sense of just waiting for the other shoe to drop.)

(And, yes, other Rebel Intelligence agents probably could have tested her like this, and if he hadn’t been around as a resource they almost certainly would have, but given that he knows exactly what to look for, the Powers That Be had decided to leave it in his hands.)

“Of course,” he says, and asks her a few questions, rapid-fire.

(He’s less interested in the specific details of her answers--and he’s not really asking her questions about her identity--then how she approaches answering him. Not necessarily something he can explain, which is part of why he didn’t coach any of the other officers and get this taken care of on transmission four or five, but just trying to get a sense of her.)

(One thing he does is privately revise the estimate of her age--he thinks she’s younger than the previous guess, probably twenty or so. Sabine’s age, maybe, at the oldest. Which makes her even less likely to be a plant in his opinion; ISB wouldn’t put this much effort into setting up an agent that inexperienced, not on a mission this sensitive, even if she was inconceivably talented and precocious. As an in-person infiltrator, yes, absolutely; but for this many layers of intrigue...no, they’d want someone Experienced.)

She ends the transmission somewhat abruptly, after about five minutes, but he was more or less expecting that and anyway he has what he needs.

“Well?”

“She’s genuine,” he says. “I’m as sure as I can be of that.”

“Good to hear.” A pause. “...you’ve run undercover agents before, correct?”

Kallus shuts down the knee-jerk paranoid response as fast and hard as he can.

(There are almost certainly people in the Alliance who still don’t trust me but none of them are in this room. I know that. Calm down.)

“Yes, once or twice,” he says, cautiously. “For short-term assignments.”

“Congratulations. You just volunteered to be Vector’s handler.”

(Hence the name of the AU. AKA the one where Kallus adopts a baby spy who JUST HAPPENS to be Palpatine’s daughter.)

(...yeah, he didn’t really see that one coming.)

(...at some point, I should probably go through and outline Lavinia’s politics and her reasons for defecting in detail, but in the interests of focusing on Kallus’s end of things, which is much more interesting, a (hopefully) brief digression on the subject:)

(Lavinia was created and trained to be a spy/manipulator, to perform the kind of tasks and access the kind of information that Palpatine could as the avuncular Chancellor but cannot as Emperor, now that he’s thrown that mask away.)

(...apart from very specific, carefully staged moments, like with Ezra.)

(So, part of manipulating people means understanding them, which means Lavinia does a lot of research to put her targets into context, and in so doing comes across a wide variety of cultures/forms of government, at least in an academic context.)

(And that means that, once she starts thinking beyond “how can I survive until tomorrow” and starts thinking about broader impact/more long-range plans, it doesn’t take her very long to realize that her father’s government is...well, let’s call it deeply flawed.)

(What she does when she comes to that conclusion varies, depending on other circumstances--but she doesn’t necessarily defect right away. Mostly for practical reasons; in Masks!Verse, which this AU is a variant of, she has no Rebel contacts that she’s absolutely sure of.)

(Meaning, in this case, both “absolutely sure is an actual Rebel and not just sympathetic to their aims/politics” and “absolutely sure would be willing to work with me despite my parentage.”)

(And if she approaches anyone she isn’t sure of, it’ll get her or her contact or both of them killed. Defecting from a distance, while she can better protect her identity, has a much bigger risk of interception, which, again, would get her and/or her contacts and possibly a lot of other people killed. Or worse.)

(Basically, she doesn’t think defection is a viable option for her--there are some other reasons for this, but those play a distant second to these concerns.)

(But then Alderaan happens.)

(And these concerns carry a lot less weight.)

(It takes her a couple months to figure out how to make contact with Rebel Intelligence, let alone how to do it safely, but she starts working on it at that point.)

(...I think that’s the salient points here. Like I said, I have a fair bit more about Lavinia’s politics/etc. and the ways/extent to which she’s willing to defy her father in various AUs, but that’s enough for this one, I think.)

So, Kallus can’t really argue with the assignment (even if part of him kind of wants to? Not because he thinks he can’t do it, but because he’s concerned that being another deep-cover informant’s handler is going to dig up a lot of stuff he’d really, really rather keep buried.)

(Look, he feels like he’s finally found his equilibrium. He’s even, somehow, approaching happy with his life for the first time in what feels like forever which, guilt-induced brainspirals aside, he doesn’t want to give up.)

(Besides, handling Vector wouldn’t be his only responsibility, and if he does start losing that equilibrium, he’s not sure how much his other work will be affected.)

(On the other hand...)

(On the other hand, there are very few people who have done what he did and survived long enough to make it back to Rebel lines.)

(Oh, there are other deep-cover informants, sure; but the majority of them are plants inserted by Rebel Intelligence.)

(And while, even leaving aside the technicalities involved with Senator Mothma and others among the leadership who had previously served in the Imperial Senate, there are plenty of defectors--up to and including General Madine and some other persons of very high rank--for the most part, once they make that decision, defectors grab what they can and run.)

(The ones that don’t usually don’t survive as long as he did.)

(Or, alternatively, they don’t identify themselves to the Alliance or even necessarily work directly with them; they perform internal sabotage rather than espionage.)

(Those embedded defectors tend to last longer, but not by much.)

(Which means that he’s probably the only person--certainly the only available person--who has been where Vector is. Who better to help her?)

(As for his own issues...well, he is a Professional, dammit. He can damn well compartmentalize. He’s very good at that.)

(...yeah, this is kind of a running theme for him. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s...very much not.)

(It remains to be seen how much it’ll help or hurt when dealing with Vector.)

So, he accepts the assignment, and goes back to his quarters to tell Zeb and collect a few things--given the irregularity of Vector’s transmissions, until he can talk to her again and set up a better protocol, he’s going to basically have to camp out in Intelligence.

(Which he’s not looking forward to, but it is what it is.)

Zeb is already there when he gets back--their current shifts don’t entirely line up, which is fine; they have at least a few hours overlap most days which is better than some pairs can say.

After several minutes saying hello...

“Did I miss anything interesting?” Kallus asks.

“That Skywalker kid came by a bit ago,” Zeb tells him. “Looking for Kanan.”

Kallus blinks, halfway through fixing caf for the two of them. “...aren’t he and Hera off investigating a potential supply line?”

(Which is, of course, far below Hera’s current paygrade, but she volunteers for that kind of mission on occasion. An excuse to spend private time with her family, while still technically being useful and not taking actual time off.)

“Yep,” Zeb says. “Apparently, this is the third or fourth time something like that has happened. They keep missing each other.”

"Well, I’m sure they’ll link up sooner or later,” he says. “Especially if Skywalker’s actively looking for Kanan.”

(He hasn’t actually met Luke yet at this point, but he’s heard the rumors. He has no real doubt of this fact.)

“Yeah, probably,” Zeb says. “I think Kanan’s been trying to track him down, too. He’ll be sorry he missed him.”

(...yeah, we’re going with Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence to keep those two from actually meeting for a while.)

(Partly because it’s easier than figuring out all the timeline/plot implications that might have (and I’m lazy, and that is the focus of another story), but mostly because I think it’s funny.)

Kallus nods. “...did he and Hera take Jacen with them, or...?”

(He hadn’t seen any evidence the baby had been left with them, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.)

But Zeb shakes his head. “Nah, Sabine has him this time. Why? Something going on?”

“I have an assignment,” Kallus tells him.

“Huh. Extraction?”

(Logical assumption--the bulk of the fieldwork he does now, all-hands-on-deck situations like Lothal aside, is extractions. Occasionally helping sell an insertion, but generally the reverse.)

“No, not this time,” he says. “The agent who reached out, the one I told you about--I’ve been assigned as her handler.”

(He has long since gotten permission to discuss at least surface generalities of his work with Zeb, and they both know where the line is.)

Zeb’s ears flick a little, and Kallus can practically see him weighing the same pros and cons that he himself did earlier--and probably several others he hadn’t thought of.

“So, I guess that means you’re camping out in intelligence for a while?”

“Unfortunately,” he says. “Of course, there is a difference between being on-call and being on duty. And my schedule technically won’t change.”

Zeb perks up at that and grins before kissing him. “Well, I’m sure I an find an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes. Just in case. You know.”

“Mm.”

Fortunately, call number seven comes less than a week later.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

A brief pause. “Yes.”

“I’ve been assigned as your handler.”

(He figures the best way to deal with someone who’s probably twitchy and paranoid and otherwise on high alert is to be as scrupulously honest as he can. That doesn’t mean telling her everything, of course, but it does mean being straightforward, difficult as it is, and not outright lying.)

(If he can. So far, he can.)

Another pause. “I understand.”

(She’s hard to read on this one, whether or not she finds it suspicious. She might even be relieved again, that she’ll have a set contact point, rather than a whoever’s-available sort of situation.)

“There are some protocols I’d like to establish, for further contacts.”

“I can’t call at a set time,” she says immediately. “Or at set intervals.”

"I understand,” he said. “But I’m going to give you a more specific frequency to call.”

“Yes,” she says, and that definitely has a faint note of relief.

“Can you, if nothing else, send an all-clear transmission every two weeks?” he asks. “It doesn’t need to be at a set time, but so we can gauge--” whether or not you’re alive and uncompromised “--how concerned we need to be after a long silence.”

She pauses. “...I think so. Yes. I can do that.”

(Definitely young, he thinks, maybe even younger than Ezra--would be.)

“That’s all for now,” he says. There are others he wants to establish, of course, but those are the most important and her file transfer is nearly complete. 

“I’ll be in touch,” she says; hesitates a second; “Vector out.”

(...well, she’s signing off officially now, rather than just abruptly terminating the connection. Progress. I think.)

He goes back to his quarters, and life settles into a new routine.

He keeps up his old duties--analyzing reports, training potential undercover agents, etc.--and also keeps track of Vector and her reports.

That last one proves...well, his early optimism wasn’t entirely misplaced?

Vector is very, very good at what she does. Her files are varied in their content, and sometimes not as useful as she might’ve hoped, due to timing or other resource concerns, but the quality of the work she does never comes into question.

But part of being a double agent’s handler is assessing how they’re holding up under the incredible stress of the position. And she is frustratingly vague when it comes to anything approaching anything personal about herself.

In addition, there are two additional protocols he wants to set up early on--first is a way for him to reach her.

“Just because I have access doesn’t mean I have influence,” she says. “I can’t seed disinformation for you. Not without getting caught.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

(Though, of course, he had considered the possibility--as well-positioned as Vector seems to be, how could he not?--but while he doesn’t completely rule out the idea, he files it away under “only as a last resort.” Better to leave her in place as long as possible.)

“But if there’s something specific we want you to keep an eye out for--or if we need to warn you about something...”

“Right,” she says. “That’s fine, then.”

The second, though...the second is where they run into real problems.

“I also want to establish an emergency signal. If you need extraction, or if you end up captured by Rebel agents.”

(He still wonders, sometimes, if staying behind when Ezra came to extract him was the right decision. It had seemed so at the time, but...)

(He’ll probably never know. And fretting about it doesn’t do any good.)

(knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stop.)

“No,” she says.

“Vector--”

And she hangs up on him.

Exactly why she’s so reticent to establish something like that, he isn’t sure--he has some theories, but...

It’s frustrating, to be sure. Makes it harder for him to do his job.

(And it makes him worried about her--if she’s working without any kind of exit strategy, that likely means she doesn’t think such a thing will be possible. Which, on the one hand, shows her dedication to the cause, but on the other hand...on the other hand, if she thinks getting caught is inevitable, she might get sloppy with her own security and that might well turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

(The other alternative, that she doesn’t trust him, or the Alliance, with her safety if things do go wrong, is...well, probably more distressing, in all honesty.)

(Though not, perhaps, altogether surprising.)

He decides to seek Kanan’s advice on the problem.

(Kanan, after all, knows best what to do with unruly teenagers.)

(...well, so does Hera, but Hera’s advice would probably be less applicable/harder to apply to his specific situation. Also, she has better things to do than help him do his job.)

(Which is the other frustrating thing, that he can’t handle this by himself.)

Kanan’s advice is pretty straightforward--be patient, and don’t push her too hard. You can’t help her if she won’t let you.

(This is part of why I wanted him still around, incidentally.)

(Because there is something utterly hilarious about Kallus going to Kanan for parenting advice.)

(And that’s exactly what he’s doing.)

(Even if he hasn’t quite figured that out yet.)

So, taking this in mind, he backs off. A little bit. Decides to start from square one, and build a rapport, and go from there to get some of the other basics that he wants established.

Standard interrogation technique, technically. Not one favored by ISB, obviously, or really encouraged, but even they knew it had its uses.

Vector is still cagey about personal details, but she does start to soften a little as several weeks go by.

He brings up the idea of an emergency code phrase again, after about two months of this kind of sporadic contact.

This time, she says she’ll think about it.

Things hold in this pattern for about a year, and then Vector makes a call, as usual.

Or, it starts like a normal call, anyway.

“You probably won’t hear from me for a while,” she says, as the file transfer is wrapping up and they’re about to sign off.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing like that. And nothing related to the work we’ve been doing. But things are going to be...difficult. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get an all-clear message out for a while.”

He doesn’t like this at all. “How long?”

“A month,” she says. “Probably. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. I’ll contact you as soon as I can safely.”

It is one of the longer months of his life.

But, as promised, the dedicated comm he has for her lights up eventually.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum,” he says. “Good to hear from you again. Everything all right?”

“Yes,” she says. And she seems fine, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

When he tells Zeb about it later, though, is where it gets...interesting.

“Glad to hear your kid’s okay,” he says.

“My--she’s not my child, Zeb,” Kallus says.

“Really.”

“....”

“Look, you talk about her the same way Kanan talks about Sabine, when she’s off blowing things up on Mandalore.”

“I...wait, really?”

“Yep,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “I mean, it’s not a problem. S’kind of what we do in this family, isn’t it? Take in strays. ‘Bout time you got in on it, really.”

Kallus just stares at him. “I...what.”

Zeb waves a hand in front of his face. “Alex. Babe. You all right in there?”

He shakes himself. “Yes, of course. Sorry."

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’d probably have been nice for the two of us to talk about kids in general before we started adopting our own strays, but--”

Really, sometimes Kallus thinks that Zeb likes the expression he makes when utterly poleaxed like that.

(He does. He thinks it’s adorable.)

(Also, Zeb figures this is a conversation they maybe should have, because they’re clearly both in this for the long haul and he saw this opening and...look, no one ever said Zeb was good at broaching delicate topics gently.)

“...do you?” Kallus asks, when he recovers. “Want children, someday?”

“I mean...yeah,” Zeb says. “If you do. I mean.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confesses.

(Because long-range planning is hard; because they’re at war, because he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because he doesn’t deserve any of this and planning for a future he doesn’t deserve is just--a little much for him sometimes.)

“But...yes,” Kallus says. “I think so, yes. I would like to raise children with you. Someday.”

Zeb’s response to that is positive and enthusiastic and leads to things they will definitely not be discussing with their hypothetical children ever.

It’s a month or two after that that Kallus finds out who Vector is.

(…well, for a given value of ‘finds out,’ anyway.)

He and Zeb are babysitting--Sabine is back on Mandalore; Hera is on duty; Kanan was supposed to be finally meeting Luke but there was an issue at the spaceport and he’s stranded for the next few hours.

(Like I said. Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence.)

Zeb has just put the kid to bed, and Kallus is watching the news.

“You’re still watching that?” he asks, nudging Kallus to make room for him on the couch and drawing him to lean on his shoulder.

“I’ve told you before, dear, knowing what the Empire is saying, no matter how different that is from what they’re doing, has its uses.”

“Especially if you know how their propaganda is constructed, I know,” Zeb says, and nuzzles his ear. “Just thought you were almost done.”

Kallus smiles faintly and leans into the caress. “I am, I promise. I’ll shut it off in a minute. I just want to--”

He pauses. Rewinds the feed. Pauses it--pre-recorded coverage of some public event the Emperor’s kid had been at, with the newscaster commenting on the progress of whatever “public works” project it was supposed to kick off.

“…what is it? Something she said?”

(...something to do with whatever this “project” is covering up?)

“Hush,” he says, fiddling with a few buttons and calling up a printed transcript and skims through it before sinking back against Zeb, letting out a breath.

“Babe?”

“I think I know who Vector is,” he says.

Zeb stares at him for a minute, then stares at the paused footage--frozen on the Princess’s face, icy and composed.

“…her?” 

“Her,” he confirms.

“Why…?”

“Little things,” he says. “The way she talks, some unique turns of phrase. And she fits the profile--young, Human, Coruscanti, close to someone powerful but essentially a civilian herself…and…when Vector disappeared on me last month, that coincided with a period where the Princess was more visible than usual.”

“Karabast,” he mutters. “When you put it like that…”

“It’s all conjecture,” Kallus points out. “I can’t prove any it. Not without digging deeper--which, if I’m right, risks compromising her cover--or asking her straight-out.”

(Which, of course, would also be a bad idea. It would probably seriously damage the trust he’s spent the past year and more building, and it might not even get him an honest answer anyway.)

“Right,” Zeb says. “…any chance someone else could put this together?”

Kallus makes a face. “Unlikely,” he says, though he doesn’t sound totally sure. “The recordings of our conversations are kept as hard copies only, for security. Not uploaded onto any networked drives. And a very small set of people have access to those copies. I doubt anyone could put it together without that access. Still…”

(Someone dedicated enough, who managed to access one of those recordings, or intercept a transmission along the way, or compromise the lines of communication from the other side…)

“Kriff,” he says. “Anything you can do about it?”

“Not really,” he says. “Other than brief Draven and keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Yeah,” he says, and studies the picture again; glances over at the morose look on Kallus’s face; feels his ears twitching. “Huh. Never would’ve figured the Emperor’s kriffing daughter to defect.”

Kallus jumps a little, drawn out of his thoughts, then rolls his eyes and gives Zeb a fond, exasperated smile (which was really the point, honestly; to needle him into a better mood), and rather dryly points out, “There was a time you would’ve said the same about me.”

“True,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “Guess it just goes to show, people surprise you all the time.”

“Indeed,” Kallus says, then reaches over to shut off the feed and changes the subject.

Six weeks after that, Vector goes quiet again. This time without warning.

When her two-week check-in goes by with nothing, he’s immediately concerned. She’s never missed a check-in before, not without warning. He decides to give her a day, and then ping her himself.

(He generally avoids doing that--only when he absolutely needs to speak with her about something time-sensitive that can’t wait for her to reach out.)

There’s no response to his message, either.

He reports the missed check-in, of course. Tries again the next day. And a third.

Still nothing.

(He knows a rescue won’t be authorized--technically, they don’t actually know for sure who or even where Vector is, and if his theory is correct, they cannot make a run on Coruscant for one agent, especially not one as visible as Princess Lavinia.)

(He keeps telling himself that. Over and over again. As he tries a fourth and fifth time to reach her.)

“Zeb,” he says, after a third full week has gone by since the last time he heard from her. “I need you to talk me out of doing something stupid.”

“Uh, sure, babe. What’s going on?”

He explains the situation as briefly as he can. “And I am this close to staging a half-assed unauthorized raid on Coruscant to extract her.”

“...nah, if we’re doing an unauthorized raid on Coruscant, it should be a full-assed thing.”

That...that wasn’t really the answer Kallus was looking for.

(In hindsight, he thinks, as he tries to redraw building plans from memory and plan this stupid, stupid venture, he probably should have gone to Hera if he really wanted someone to talk him down. Or possibly Kanan. ...no, Hera.)

(...it could be worse, though.)

(he could’ve tried asking Sabine.)

Fortunately, before they can actually run off and get themselves killed--

(or court-martialed)

(or in trouble with Hera)

--Kallus’ dedicated comm chimes.

“All clear,” he breathes. “That’s the all-clear. She’s...she’s alive.”

It’s nearly another week before he hears anything else, but finally a real call comes.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum. Are you all right?”

(she doesn’t sound all right; it’s hard to tell through her scrambler, but she seems strained.)

“Everything’s fine,” she says. “I apologize for the delay, but things are settled now. My cover is intact.”

Which is good to know, but not what he asked.

“And what about you?” he says.

She doesn’t answer right away.

“Vector?”

“I’m here,” she says. “And everything is under control. You don’t need to worry about me. Nothing that--it wasn’t anything to do with this, I was caught on the fringes of something unrelated. It won’t interfere with my work going forward.”

Which still isn’t an answer.

(He’s pretty sure the non-answer is his answer, though. Damn it.)

(He knows the risks. Better than most. And he knows she knows them, too. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear, especially knowing that there is kriff-all he can do to help her.)

Into the silence, she says, “I’m your asset, Fulcrum. Not your friend.”

“......”

“I’m just--” She sighs. “I’m your asset. Not your friend. It’s...we should both remember that. It’s probably better, in the long run.”

And part of him is hurt; part of him is annoyed that he is being lectured on professionalism by a damned child; part of him is worried again--he did finally talk her into an emergency code phrase, in case of capture or other disaster, but here she goes again, hinting that she doesn’t have an exit strategy.

(Not like I did, either, he reminds himself. Can’t plan that far ahead. Not when you’re doing this kind of work. And even when Ezra came for me--)

(He buries it. Because he is a goddamn professional, Vector’s reproof aside.)

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says. “And I’ve had worse.”

“........”

All right, that he likes even less.

“Vector--”

“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll be in touch when I have something else. And I’ll do my best to warn you if I have to disappear again. Vector out.”

And, in the interests of “good Lord this thing is close to 6k already,” we’re going to skip ahead quite a bit, about a year and a half, to just after the evacuation of Echo Base.

For the first time in a while, the whole family (minus Ezra) is back on the Ghost together.

(Kanan, Hera, Chopper, Sabine, Zeb, Kallus, Rex, and Jacen.)

(They’ve all been in touch and met up fairly frequently, but they’re no longer a discrete cell and they all have their own, often separate, duties with the wider Rebellion. So, while the circumstances leading to it are awful, it’s nice to have an opportunity like this.)

Orders are to lay low, and make their way by a prearranged roundabout route to the fleet rendezvous five days later.

The first night, they mostly spend catching up and letting Sabine fleece them all at cards.

(Except Rex. Do Not Play Sabaac With Rex.)

(They had all forgotten that rule.)

Hera is sending occasional messages back and forth to Command, to confirm/make adjustments/etc., but otherwise things are fairly quiet after the frantic rush of the evacuation itself.

(Fortunately, none of them were injured in the escape. It’s happened before, when they’ve had to leave a base in a hurry. That was a week no one wanted to repeat.)

It’s their second night of drifting, and Kallus is just starting to fall asleep (Zeb is snoring beside him; the noise honestly probably should have been annoying but is genuinely comforting at this point, to the point where he has trouble sleeping without it) when his comm beeps.

It’s Vector.

More accurately, it’s her emergency signal.

He extracts himself from the bed and slips out into the hall to talk the call.

“Fulcrum.”

“It’s Vector,” she says, unnecessarily. She’s not using her usual scrambler this time, but a more standard vocoder, probably cannibalized from a stolen helmet. She sounds drained, and slightly breathless. “I’ve been burned. I got...I got away. I had more..." She stops, clears her throat. “I got away. I was able to remove my tracker and I’m as--I’m as sure as I reasonably can be that I’ve lost anyone following me by other means. I-I pulled as much raw data as I could onto a couple of portable drives on my way out, but I’m on a...I’m on a sliced public terminal right now, I don’t want to keep the line open long enough to send them in the usual way and I...I don’t know what the protocol is now. Please advise.”

“Where are you now?” he asks. There are so many other questions he wants to ask, needs to ask, both from a personal and a professional standpoint--is she all right; how did she get caught; how did she escape; how long has she been compromised--but they can wait until she’s been located and brought in safely. He sets them all aside, and focuses.

(Like A Goddamn Professional.)

“Ixaly,” she says. “I’m on...I’m on Ixaly.”

He closes his eyes, mentally traces their route through hyperspace. Ixaly is in this sector, it shouldn’t be far...yes. If he’s counted right--they’ll be doing a navigation stop shortly, and dropping out of hyperspace. From there--a few hours to Ixaly, unless he’s completely turned around.

“There’s a cantina,” he says, “in the Diira district in Central City. The White Shale. Can you be there in six hours?”

A brief pause; he can hear her breathing. “Yes,” she says, at last. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“That’s the fastest I can arrange a pickup,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

(If he’s right about how close they are, it might not actually take him that long, but there’s a balance between getting to her as quickly as possible and budgeting in time for something to go wrong. He doesn’t want to risk being late and having her move on because she thinks he’s not coming. He may not be able to contact her if something goes wrong; not if she’s relying on sliced public terminals to reach out to him. And he has no idea when she’ll be able to make contact again, or how long whatever data’s on her drives will stay viable...so, six hours. He’ll have to trust her to stay alive that long.)

“I’ll be there,” she promises. “White Shale cantina, Diira district, Central City, six hours.”

“Exactly. You know how to reach me if there are any problems.”

“Yes,” she says.

“It’s almost over,” he says. “You’ve done well, getting yourself this far. Just hold on for a little while longer, all right?”

“I will,” she says; takes a breath. “I’ll see you in six hours. Vector out.”

The line goes dead.

Half a heartbeat later, he feels the familiar rumble of the hyperdrive cutting out, switching over to sublight engines.

He’s in his window now, he doesn’t have time--

As he heads for the Phantom, he runs into Kanan.

“...what’s wrong?”

“Vector,” he says, clipped. “She’s had to run. She’s not far--”

“Go,” he says. “I’ll let Hera know. ...take Zeb with you. In case you need backup.”

(Which he doesn’t really need, and it might well spook his contact if he brings a team--he has run extractions like this before, after all, and Vector is particularly cagey--but he nods.)

“I will. Thank you.”

“How long do we wait before sending our own rescue party?” Kanan asks.

Kallus does some quick mental math--six hours to the meet; going by Vector’s history, she may need some convincing to come along (like I did, until it was too late; but it’s already too late for her, isn’t it?); she might be wrong about having a tail; they might run into unrelated trouble...

“I’ll send word once we leave the system. If you haven’t heard from me in twelve hours, that’s when you worry.”

“Got it,” he says, and starts off towards the cockpit to update Hera, when Kallus realizes--

“Wait,” he says.

Kanan pauses, half-turns back to him.

“I don’t know who Vector is, not for certain,” he says, “but I have considerable circumstantial evidence that she’s Princess Lavinia.”

Kanan takes that in, then nods slowly. “Right. Thanks for the head’s up. I’ll pass that along.”

“Thank you,” Kallus says again, and the two of them separate--Kallus goes to wake Zeb and then get the Phantom prepped and underway; Kanan goes to tell Hera what’s going on.

(...and corral his son.)

(Jacen has developed this habit lately of hiding on the Phantom when he thinks it’s going somewhere Interesting.)

(Which is usually whenever someone other than Mamma is driving.)

(He likes going on Adventures with his various uncles and Auntie ‘Bine, okay.)

(They go on the best Adventures.)

(But retrieving one of Kallus’s deep-cover agents whose cover was blown like a week ago at most is maaaaaaybe not the best Adventure for a three-year-old.)

Fortunately, Zeb isn’t hard to wake and grasps the situation quickly. The two of them head for the Phantom--

And find Sabine sitting there waiting for them, spinning idly in the pilot’s chair.

“...Sabine--” Zeb starts.

“Whatever it is that’s got you two running around frantically when we’re supposed to be lying low,” she says, “I wanna help. You might need backup.”

On the one hand, Kallus is pretty sure they won’t. And his prior concerns about spooking Vector if he comes in with a team still apply.

On the other hand, Sabine is one of the best people to have beside them in a crisis, if things do go all to hell. She’s creative and generally carrying an array of weapons that defies the very laws of physics.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to argue with her.

“Fine,” he says. “But you follow my lead--both of you. Neither of you has been on an extraction like this before, and this is what I do. All right?”

“All right,” Sabine says. “Who is it we’re extracting, exactly?”

“A spy, working under the code name Vector,” he says. “She’s been feeding us intel for close to three years now. Her cover was compromised, and she had to run.”

Sabine nods. “Got it,” she says.

“And, if I’m right,” he says--because if he is, Sabine will have to know before they get there, “she’s the Emperor’s daughter.”

“...all right, then,” Sabine manages, after a moment of stunned silence. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

They detach, and the Ghost disappears behind them back into hyperspace as Kallus sets a course for Ixaly.

And now, since I’m sure y’all are wondering the same thing Kallus is--i.e., how did she get caught/how did she escape--let’s backtrack and leave Kallus’s POV for another brief digression--

It all comes down to a man named Vedric Greer.

Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard. He’s been in that elite unit for over fifteen years at this point, selected more or less straight out of the Academy.

He’s been the head of Lavinia’s detail since she was twelve.

(Before that, he had a variety of assignments; he never got stuck with Vader, for which he is profoundly grateful, but he guarded a few valuable objects/locations, and he was on Tarkin’s detail for a couple of years.)

See, here’s the thing about Royal Guards. They’re put through a lot of conditioning, both physically and mentally, to become living weapons who are absolutely loyal.

And he is. Vedric Greer is an absolutely loyal man.

The thing is, to be a Royal Guard assigned to any living being other than Palpatine himself--Vader, Tarkin, Mas Amedda, Lavinia, a few others--means to be equal parts bodyguard and prison guard. Such a Guard is at least partly there to protect his principal from external threats, of course, but if said principal steps out of line or he’s given certain orders, he becomes their jailer. Or executioner. Or worse.

When he’s assigned to someone like Tarkin, of course, that isn’t much of a problem.

But a lonely, precocious twelve-year-old kid like Lavinia? Who, whatever traits she may have inherited from her father, has them tempered by an actual conscience?

...yeah, it doesn’t take a whole lot for him to bond with her, just a little.

(Throw in the fact that he has a lover, an Imperial Archivist who survived Scarif by being transferred to Coruscant days before Tarkin blew it up...well. Maybe the cracks in his armor aren’t only to do with the little girl he’s been made responsible for.)

So. Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard, and that means he is a living weapon, and absolutely loyal.

But over the past seven years--and especially the last three--maybe, just maybe, that loyalty has started to shift.

(He doesn’t even realize it, at first; and when he does notice the traces of affection, of tangential loyalty in himself...well, he reasons that Lavinia is all but an extension of her father’s will, anyway. Right? And if he conveniently fails to see certain signs...)

(Reynard, his lover, knows way before Vedric does where this is going, of course.)

And then, one morning, his orders change, and all those little things come crashing down.

(It was such a simple thing that screwed her over; Palpatine seeds bait among his minions constantly, little nuggets of information so that, if there is a high-placed leak, he can track it back to its source right away. Standard counter-intelligence, really; and everyone, everyone, is under suspicion. Everyone is tested.)

(Lavinia is normally very good at spotting this sort of thing--she has a natural aptitude for espionage, she was trained by the best, and she puts just as much effort into surviving her father and completing her mission as he did into taking over the galaxy. How else would she have lasted nineteen years as her father’s daughter--let alone three as a deep-cover Rebel spy?)

(But this time--this time she missed it. And now he knows.)

And Vedric Greer has a choice to make.

It’s surprising, in the end, how simple it is.

“My lady,” he informs her, “you are undone.”

He helps her cut out the tracking device implanted inside her ribcage (which is also fitted with a killswitch, of course, in case she ever tried to slip her leash); she asks him to come with her; he refuses.

(He is not a Rebel. He is not disloyal.)

(What he is, is her protector. What he is, is--hers.)

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“So am I,” he says, and, “Go. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“Goodbye,” she says, and disappears.

He sends a brief message to Reynard--hoping he’ll know what it means (he will; he always knew this might happen), and prepares himself to meet his death.

(Or, at least, that’s what he believes is going to happen.)

(...look, as I said before, this is Self-Indulgent BS(tm). Like I’m really gonna let Greer die. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have no earthly idea how he survives but he does. Because this is my self-indulgent BS, dammit.)

Okay. Back to Ixaly, and the actual rescue/extraction mission.

(…by which I also mean forward, since it’s like a week later.)

Our Heroes reach Central City about an hour ahead of schedule. After a brief discussion, Sabine disappears into the district to be on-hand for immediate help, if needed; Zeb, who doesn’t blend in as well, will stay with the Phantom; Kallus of course goes to the cantina to find his contact.

He heads there more or less directly, taking in as much detail of the city and the specific neighborhood as he can.

He’s been here before, but it’s been several years; there is a garrison in place, but the occupation seems comparatively light.

Which means there’s a not-unreasonable chance that this will go smoothly.

(Of course, as soon as he thinks that, he starts coming up with all the potential problems that could still happen. For one thing, he or Vector or Sabine might be recognized…)

Security on the cantina itself; mostly local talent, just as it was on his last visit. This is a fairly middle-of-the-road place; just dishonest enough that he and Vector should blend, not so dishonest that they’re likely to get caught in the middle of any…unpleasantness. Part of why he picked this place. That, the fact that it isn’t particularly difficult to find, and is fairly close to his ideal landing site.

(Not the official port, naturally; while Kallus doesn’t doubt that they could bluff their way through, he’d rather not try it on such short notice. They’d landed the Phantom on the city outskirts, about fifteen minutes away by foot.)

In other words, things are about as well-situated as they could be, under the circumstances. He has three separate exit routes at least tentatively mapped out, of varying efficiency and difficulty.

(And, if it came down to it, Sabine or Zeb could create one for him, of course, but he’d prefer to avoid that if at all possible.)

(In any case, best to have backup plans; he’ll pick the best route of the three once he has a better idea of what Vector’s capable of at the moment.)

(He’s almost certain she’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how badly, and she’ll never actually tell him, so that’s the best he can do.)

Inside, the cantina is fairly crowded--which is a mixed blessing; on the one hand, more cover for their activities/conversation, but on the other, more people to see them.

It’s a varied crowd; mostly local shift workers, a few semi-legitimate traders and mid-level bounty hunters. Most importantly, though, there are no troopers that he can identify, even off-duty. Excellent.

He gets a drink (to blend in, primarily) and finds a table in the corner where he can keep an eye on the other patrons and watch the door without being obvious about it.

He’s not kept waiting long.

She blends in pretty well--she’s managed to dress herself in a slightly-outdated local fashion, one that helpfully comes with a cowl that doesn’t quite hide her face, but does enough to keep her mostly anonymous from a distance and make dodging any security cameras easier.

(A few other women in the cantina are dressed similarly; not many, but enough that she doesn’t really stand out.)

She doesn’t head straight for him. She weaves through the crowd for a minute, hesitates by the bar as if she’s considering something, orders a drink. Her attention drifts over the crowd; she doesn’t linger on him, but her hand twitches a little.

(Ah. She spotted him, then. Good.)

(He isn’t really surprised that she figured out which Fulcrum she was working with. And it does make things simpler--there are a few signals he could have tried, but there wasn’t time, when she called, to pick one of them and be sure.)

(An advantage, if a counter-intuitive one, to using the legacy code name with her, he supposes.)

She starts moving again; doing everything right--wandering as if she’s looking for a seat, gradually making her way to a small empty table next to his.

(The whole thing takes probably less than two minutes. It feels longer. Then again, it always does--this isn’t the first time he’s met a contact like this, and that never changes. Doesn’t matter whether he’s the first or second to arrive.)

He taps out a quick signal on his commlink--contact made, everything’s on track so far--and waits.

“I have a data file for you,” she says softly. “Several, in fact.”

He smiles faintly into his drink. “Well done.”

The way the tables are laid out, they’re sitting next to one another, both with their backs against the wall. It’s a simple matter for her to slide the two drives over to him, and just as easy for him to make them disappear.

(Leaving together discreetly will be a little harder, but he’s been doing this for quite a while. They’ll manage.)

“I have transport off-planet,” he tells her. “We should wait a few minutes, not get up right away, but it’s best if we leave sooner rather than later.”

She shakes her head. “I'm not coming with you.”

(He wishes he could say he was surprised.)

He doesn’t turn to look at her, as much as he wants to. “If you’re concerned about reprisals…”

“I’m not,” she says. “Not really. It’s just…not a good idea.”

...and in the interests of “good Lord this thing is probably pushing 10k and it’s not even the full fic it’s an outline,” I’m going to skip the rest of this conversation. Suffice to say, he’s right and she’s wrong, though she takes some convincing, but they leave the cantina together like fifteen minutes later. Also, he confirms that his theory as to her identity was correct somewhere in here.

Anyway, like I said, he talks her down, and she agrees to leave with him.

Once out of the cantina, he can get a better look at her, assess how badly she’s hurt.

(He knows she is for certain now; she’s breathing carefully, shallowly, and a little too fast--but he could only see her hands and the vague shadow of her cowl before.)

“Are you all right?” he asks; even though the answer is obvious; she’s favoring her left side and very pale.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says.

A characteristic non-answer, but a step above denial. He supposes.

“All right,” he says. “Let me know if you need help.”

(There’s not much else he can do here and now, anyway; they have some supplies back on the Ghost, and she can get proper medical attention once they rendezvous with the fleet.)

“I will,” she says, which is something at least.

They make it two blocks before they run into a squad of stormtroopers.

It’s a routine patrol; and, even with a wounded asset  to escort, it wouldn’t have been a problem under most circumstances. He could avoid the confrontation, or talk his way past.

But the squad sergeant stiffens in a particular way, staring at him.

“Karabast,” he mutters.

(You’d think, after all these years, this would stop happening so often. But, no, it’s still even odds that, out in the field, someone will recognize him.)

Lavinia takes half a step back. “I can--”

“They’re not here for you,” he tells her, then drags her behind cover a split second before the troopers start firing.

Then takes a minute to take stock.

This is...not an ideal position for a standoff. And while they might be able to fight their way through...

Best plan is to stay put, hold them off as long as they can, and call in Zeb and Sabine for backup.

Good thing I listened to Kanan, he thinks.

He takes out his sidearm, then pulls his holdout pistol from his boot and offers it to Lavinia.

But she shakes her head. “Father kept my focus narrow. I’d do more harm than good.”

“...right.”

Even less ideal. But it’s all right. He can handle this.

He takes his comm, switches it to the voice setting.

“Specter Four, this is Fulcrum. We’re going to need a slightly more dramatic exit than I planned for.”

“Copy that, Fulcrum,” Zeb says. “Could use an opening, Specter Five.”

“And to think you boys wanted to leave me behind,” Sabine says.

“Yes, yes, can we save the ‘I-told-you-sos’ until after we’re clear?” Kallus says, firing off a handful of shots to keep the squad at bay.

“She does have a point, babe.”

“Not on open comms, dear, how many times...”

(Honestly, the little bit of flirting is at this point half an inside joke, after the one time they legitimately forgot to switch channels, and half a way to quickly gauge how serious the situation actually is.)

(Plus, it’s fun. They like flirting.)

“Thirty seconds,” Sabine cuts in.

“Right,” Zeb says. “I’m headed to your position. ETA two minutes.”

“Copy. Fulcrum out.”

Two minutes, under these conditions, is a long, long time.

But, right on cue, thirty seconds later, there is a magnificent explosion, which gives them some breathing room, and then Sabine slides down the wall to land next to him.

“Not my best work,” she says critically, watching the cloud on the horizon, “but it’ll clear a path. Hi,” she adds, for Lavinia’s benefit.

“Hi,” she says, softly.

“...she doesn’t have a blaster,” Sabine says, turning almost accusingly to Kallus.

“Because I’ve never had one before,” Lavinia answers for him. “And this really doesn’t seem the time or place to learn.”

“Well, we’ll fix that later,” Sabine says.

“All right,” Lavinia says, then ducks down as Sabine positions herself better to start shooting back.

The next ninety seconds go much quicker, and then comes the welcome sound of the Phantom’s engines on approach.

It’ll have to be a quick exit, and for a split second, Kallus wonders about getting Lavinia up the ramp fast enough without Zeb actually landing--

But then he sees that Sabine has her jetpack.

(He has never been so pleased to see it in his life.)

“Take her,” he says, once the shuttle is in sight. “I’ll cover you.”

Sabine catches his drift right away, and nods. “Hold on,” she tells Lavinia, who blinks, but does.

And then they’re off.

Kallus just keeps firing at the troopers until, based on the noise it’s making, he judges that the Phantom is close enough that he can make the jump.

He’s--almost right.

He comes within half an inch of missing, then Lavinia’s hands shoot out and grab one of his wrists; Sabine grabs the other and the girls haul him on board.

“We’re good, Zeb, go!” Sabine shouts, while Lavinia drags Kallus the rest of the way in and slams the hatch shut.

We did it.

He takes a minute to catch his breath--he knows it isn’t really over; there’s still a great deal of work to do once they get back to the Ghost and then to the fleet proper.

But for now--they’re all alive, they’re all safe, they’re all at least as intact as they were when they got to Ixaly; the extraction was successful.

Kallus decides to let the rest of the problems wait, and take the win.

He picks himself up and heads to the cockpit, to give Zeb a quick hug and send word to Kanan and the others.

For all the drama and the worry when it started, today turned out to be a very good day.

And I think that’s a good stopping point, don’t you? There is definitely more, featuring (in no particular order) the worlds most #Awkward Road Trip; Kanan and Lavinia meeting; Kanan and Luke finally meeting; Zeb and Kallus adopting a kid or three; Lando; Jacen being precious; and so much more.

But, uh, see all my notes above about “how long is this thing now?!”

(And, again this isn’t even fulltext.)

(This is just the outline.)

...so, uh, yeah, if you made it this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed my Self-Indulgent BS(tm). <333333333

[aqua-harry]

She’s Just Not That Into You » Part III (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

Miss the previous parts? Part One » Part Two

Although Harry had been disappointed to not receive your personal phone number, he still called “Megan” the next day to set up an appointment to see you. The earliest you can see him for a consulting appointment is in two weeks, and when Megan breaks the news to him, he nearly chokes on his morning tea.

Two weeks?

There wasn’t a logical way to see you sooner. There wasn’t a way to spin it in order for him to pop into your shop, especially considering he still had to sign the final papers to make the house his. How could he explain to you that he hadn’t quite sealed the deal yet, so you’d be decorating a completely hypothetical space? He’d already felt like an idiot in front of you, getting caught snooping around your bookshelves, and he wasn’t too keen on feeling like that around you anytime soon.

So, he waits.

He busies himself with packing up the items he knew he wouldn’t need: small, decorative sculptures, a majority of his books, the picture frames that littered nearly every spare surface of his home, his summer clothing that he knew would be completely unnecessary for at least five more months. Once he gets news that the final papers are ready to sign and the house is his, he cleans every nook and cranny of his current house, figuring it might as well be good to spruce it up for the new owners. He meets old friends for lunch, he takes his mother out for dinner, and he begs his sister to come over for a movie night.

And, of course, he reads. He reads the book you spoke so highly of, immersing himself within the worlds of each character, wondering which one you connected with most. Did you cry at the same parts he did? Did you have the same pit in your stomach that he experienced whenever the subject matter turned particularly dark? He needed to know what happened next, reading late into the night, promising himself he would go to bed after he finished the page he was on, but knowing he wouldn’t stop until he could no longer open his eyes.

The two weeks pass, but they feel more like a month and a half than they do a fortnight.

When the day of the meeting comes around, he peeks into the storefront, smiling at your name on the door. He meanders around your shop after checking in with Megan. She nods when he states his presence - a meek little thing with big brown eyes and a nervous giggle - and notifies you that “Mr. Styles is here,” via the bulky black telephone on her desk. He can feel the girl’s eyes on him as he walks around, recognizing some of the pieces from your website.

“Hi!” your voice echoes from behind him, your heels clicking against the concrete floor.

Harry turns around, fully expecting a normal salutation to escape his lips, but instead, his voice catches in his throat. You’re wholly professional, the version of yourself he saw in the magazine shoots. Cropped black pants with pointed-toe heels, a blazer rolled up to your elbows.

You look like you run the place - which, of course you do.

“How are you?” you ask before kissing his cheek and bringing him in for a hug.

That’s a bit better, he thinks to himself, remembering how previously, you’d greeted Nick more lovingly than you had Harry.

“Good, good,” he takes a step back from you, hoping your perfume had transferred onto him so he could smell you on him later - so he could pretend that reality wasn’t against him and that your scent was stuck to him for reasons other than a professional greeting. “Yourself?”

“Excited!” you clap your hands together. “Before we go back, let’s walk around a bit so you can get a sense of where I’m coming from, design-wise.”

He nods, pretending not to have already extensively researched “where you’re coming from,” and follows you until you stop in front of the mock room setups, pointing out some of your favorite pieces.

“Marble is really in,” you explain, tapping a stone coffee table. “But I try not to overdo it. If you like the look of marble - if you like this exact table, even - this would be the only marble piece I’d choose for whatever room.”

Taking his chin between his thumb and forefinger, Harry nods, inspecting the table and picturing it in his new living room. He likes it. Come to think of it, he liked everything. And it wasn’t just to appease you - there was no reason to like a chair just because you liked it - but he could envision nearly every piece in his new home.

“Just got these lamps in,” you turn one on. “I’m obsessed with them. Might snag them for myself,” you smile, clicking the remaining lamp on.

“How often does that ‘appen?” Harry smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“More often than it should,” you laugh. “I’m on this kick of deep greens, navy blue, and gold. Realize it’s not everyone’s cuppa tea, but if you see anything you like, there will almost always be different colors available,” you fluff a throw pillow, adjusting its position next to another.

Harry nods, imagining what his new place would look like decorated with a darker color scheme. He’d never been one for bold rooms - white was his go-to, with him being more concerned about how comfortable the furniture was instead of the color of the walls. You’d done Nick’s living room in bold, dark colors, and Harry loved it. It was his home, he’d told Harry. It wasn’t just a place he stayed and passed the time until he found somewhere else to live. It somehow felt right, even in the summertime, which Harry had initially worried about after seeing it for the first time. The home had Nick Grimshaw written all over it, and Harry was envious of how easily his best friend’s personality was packaged within every room.

He’d wanted that for himself, and you would be the one to give that to him.

He relishes in watching you work the room. You’re completely in your element, answering a couple of questions from Megan when the girl timidly approaches, letting her know that she was free to take lunch just as soon as your meeting with Harry wrapped up. You thank a middle-aged man for his order when he stops in to retrieve a rug, running to hold the door open for him as he heaves the rolled-up carpet over his shoulder. You make a joke with him as he leaves, winking at him with a smile and a wave of your hand.

Were you always this beautiful, or had Harry neglected to see how effortless your charm was?

No, that couldn’t have been the case. He’d noticed right from the second he laid eyes on you that you were something special; something different.

You lead him to the back of the expansive store, asking him questions about his current living space, wondering what pieces of furniture he wanted to keep and which he wanted to ditch.

“Oh my gosh!” you stop abruptly in the doorway to your office, clutching Harry’s shoulder as your eyes widen. “I didn’t even ask you if you wanted anything to drink! Water, coffee, tea?” you shuffle to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, opening it and then closing it again. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I jump the gun sometimes. Get excited over the idea of a new space to transform and all that,” you laugh, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Water would be great, thanks,” Harry smiles. He tries not to touch a hand to where you’d touched his shoulder, but he was worried you’d burned a hole through his shirt, what with how hot the area felt to him now.

He notices the familiar smell when he walks into your office, nodding his head when he sees that you’ve got yet another Diptyque candle burning on top of a filing cabinet - he can tell it’s pomegranate without even reading the label. He inspects the decor, loving the juxtaposition of clean lines set against rustic elements which make the room feel comforting and clean.

You pull out a chair with brightly colored fabric across the cushions, offering it to Harry before placing a bottle of water in front of him and walking to the opposite side of your desk.

“Okay,” you wake your computer up, scooting your chair closer to the screen. “I normally take clients through my portfolio so they can see the spaces I’ve completed, before and after I’ve gotten my hands on them.” You adjust the large monitor so Harry can view the screen as well. “Does that sound alright?”

“Of course,” he rubs his hands on his knees. “Whatever you normally do.”

You click on a file, asking Harry if he could see the screen properly. You show him your bigger projects - cafes and restaurants, along with office buildings - as well as clients who had hired you to renovate their houses. You mention how you tend to be inspired by patterns and colors, along with custom fabric you use to reupholster vintage, antique furniture.

“Do you reupholster them yourself?” he asks.

“The smaller pieces, yeah,” you nod, taking a sip from the cup of tea in front of you. “Like that chair you’re sitting on. I usually spend my free time refurbishing the pieces I find. I’ve done chairs, side tables, desks - all that,” you go on, clicking open a picture of one of your completed pieces. “Stopped doing the big stuff when my schedule got busier. Now, I work with a father-and-son team and they do the couches and loveseats,” you click again, a picture of you and two men sitting on a couch in what seems to be a workshop. “There we are,” you chuckle, quickly moving on to the next picture.

Harry knows that he can’t ask you to go back - what would you think of him if he’d insisted upon you showing him the picture again, just so he could see the way your legs crossed one over the other at the knee; how you smiled so easily, your eyes bright and your arms wrapped around the shoulders of both men. You were happy - genuinely happy - and it was a look you wore well.

“So which pieces from your current place do you want to keep?” you ask, meeting Harry’s eyes when he looks up from his lap. “If any…”

“Thinkin’ maybe,” he pulls at his bottom lip. “I’d wanna start fresh? To keep consistent?”

“Perfect,” you nod, minimizing your portfolio and bringing up a calendar. “Okay then,” you begin, moving the monitor back to its original position. “I’ll need to see your new place before I do any work-ups for you. Is there a time this week I can come and see the space?”

Harry’s heart jumps at the thought, even though your intent is purely professional.

You’d said the words, though.

You wanted to come over to his house. To his place. To his home.

“All I ‘ave is time,” he smiles. “So whatever works for you.”

---

Two days later, Harry finds himself waiting for you at his new property, the wintery London rain keeping him indoors as he paces back and forth in front of the large window overlooking the drive. It was just like London to rain on such a day - a day that should’ve been filled with bright sun to match the occasion - but he was used to the drizzle, no matter how much he didn’t agree with it.

His phone rings, the vibration in his back pocket causing him to jump. An unknown number flashes on the screen, and when he picks up, he’s surprised to hear your voice on the other line.

“So sorry, Harry!” your plea causes him to smile. You sound different on the phone - your voice is less smooth, but he lets the sound of it was over him, regardless. “I promise I haven’t stood you up! My shoot on the other end of town ran long, but I swear ‘m on my way! The GPS says ten minutes.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles. “I’ll be here. Drive safe, alright?”

You say you will and apologize again before hanging up. He grins as he looks out the window, biting his lower lip and furthering the dimples in his cheeks.

You’ve got his number saved in your phone.

He’s got your number now.

Whether it was your business phone or your personal phone didn’t matter. He had a direct line to you, and you to him. Knowing that he’d most likely never use it for reasons other than strictly professional, he felt nearly giddy as he saved your number, creating a new contact for you.

When you arrive, he’s surprised to see that it’s in a van with your logo on the side. Why - based on everything he knows about you thus far - is that the thing to make him hard? And why does his stomach flip so dramatically when he sees you step out of the driver’s seat, dressed in a worn-in flannel and jeans with paint splatters on them? You shuffle quickly over to the passenger’s side, shielding your eyes from the rain. When you emerge into sight again, you’ve got your arms full of materials like folders, tape measures, and a ruler. You laugh as you run up to the front door, shielding your papers beneath your plaid shirt.

How was Harry supposed to make it through the afternoon without a full-on stiffy with you looking like that?

“Hi,” he smiles when he opens the door, the security system beeping throughout the empty house.

“Hi!” you jump into the foyer, trying to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry - I hate being late!”

“Not a problem,” Harry assures you, noticing the pencil tucked behind your ear.

“And I’m sorry for looking suck a mess,” you peel your boots off with one hand, clutching your supplies close to your chest with the other. “Just set up a shoot and didn’t want to be even later in the name of looking presentable.”

Harry looks down at his hoodie and torn jeans, his hair flopping down onto his forehead, “Look more presentable than I do,” he chuckles.

You scoff, placing your boots neatly together, just as Harry did at your flat. He smiles at the unnecessary gesture, appreciative that you didn’t even bother ask whether or not he’d prefer you take your shoes off. Not that he’d have a problem either way - you could traipse mud and leaves all over his new home and he’d thank you for it.

“‘ve got the measurements and whatnot,” he explains as the two of you walk into the kitchen. “The original contractor has the blueprints and sent them over so we’d ‘ave ‘em.”

“Great,” you nod, inspecting the cabinetry from afar. “Think today’ll just be me scoping out the rooms, taking some measurements just to double-check,” you run your hands through your hair after setting down your armful of materials onto the counter. “Not that I don’t trust the contractor’s numbers. I’ve got my own system, though. Years of doing this makes me a creature of habit,” you smirk, flipping open a folder labeled STYLES, H. in bold letters. His heart jumps, thinking that you could’ve been the one to write it. “Wanna help me measure?”

“Of course,” he nods - maybe a bit too eagerly - as you reach for your tape measure and clip it onto the back pocket of your jeans.

The two of you walk through the empty house in your socked feet, Harry remaining quiet until you say something. You inspect each room, writing down how many windows are in each, commenting on where some crown molding will need to be replaced, recommending that the carpet be taken up and replaced with real hardwood to give it a more modern feel.

“Which colors are we thinking so far?” you inquire, unclipping the tape measure. Pulling out the free edge, you hand it to Harry, your fingertips touching his while you cock your head to the other side of the room with a smile. He’s frozen for a moment, willing you to reach out and grace your hand over his once more, but he’s snapped out of it by you walking away from him. He follows your lead, walking to the opposite wall from the one you’re standing against, holding the bulky measure down against the floorboard.

“Like the thought of a dark blue for this room,” he looks around, squatting on one knee when he reaches the wall. “Cozy livin’ room ‘n all that.”

“Good, good,” you grin. “Don’t want you to be swayed by my own likes and dislikes, but I promise you it’ll look good.” You make a quick chart with the ruler you’ve brought on the inside flap of the manila folder, muttering something about always needing to have straight lines, no matter if it was written in on an official document or the inside of a folder. It makes Harry smile, the admission of your quirk. “And if not, we can always change it. Paint is easy to change.”

“Don’t think’ll want t’ change it,” Harry assures, walking slowly backwards with the free end of the tape between his fingertips, crouching down once you’ve met him to measure the width of the room. “Whatever you’ve shown me so far, I’ve loved.”

You peek up through the hair that’s fallen down into your eyes as you scribble more numbers onto the folder, smiling at him in a way he forces himself to remember. His heart pounds in his chest - so much so that he hopes you can’t hear it - and he finds it difficult to swallow the lump that’s housed in his throat.

You work easily together as walk through each room, speaking vaguely about the initial ideas both of you had for the house. You don’t try to sell Harry on one idea or another - you offer a suggestion and if he doesn’t like it, you offer another until he’s comfortable. He feels relaxed, especially once you assure him that nothing is set in stone and that your feelings won’t be hurt if he doesn’t like something you suggest. This is his home, you remind him. It’s all up to him.

“What was the shoot about?” Harry asks as you measure the windows in what will eventually be his bedroom.

“Uneven decorating. Odd numbers look better,” you explain, sniffling slightly. “Always want to have one, three, or five of something, unless it’s like a side table or lamps. But anything on a wall - like framed art or pictures - and table decorations like figurines or candles look best when there’s an odd number of them.”

“You allowed to tell me which publication?” he smirks slyly, leaning up against the wall.

You twist your mouth, trying to conceal a smile. You think on it for a second, tucking your pencil back behind your ear. “Promise not to tell?” you reach out with your pinky, a pseudo-stern look on your face.

“Promise,” Harry links his pinky with yours, trying to conceal his smile by keeping his lips pressed tightly together. How could he say no to a pinky-promise imposed by a gorgeous woman? There were laws against it, he thinks.

“I’m serious!” you scoff, dropping your hand to your side. “I’ll know it was you if you say anything. If you even mention it to anyone - especially Nicholas Grimshaw - I’ll never speak to you again.”

He clears his throat, rubbing his nose twice. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to wear the same stern look you’re sporting. When he opens his eyes, you’re still staring at him intently.

“Swear,” he nods.

“And then you’ve gone and broken a pinky promise, too. Which in my books...” you raise your eyebrows and shake your head with a twitch of your pointer finger in front of you. “It’s HGTV Magazine. From the US.”

“That’s like a major TV channel there, innit?”

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, your eyes widening at the thought. “Now they’ve got magazines. And paint. And furniture. And decor. ‘ve got the market cornered over there. Huge, huge company. Like...massive.”

“And you’ve never been featured in the States, ‘ave you?”

“No,” you nearly whisper.

“That’s a big fuckin’ deal, then!”

“Guess so,” you chuckle, running your hands through your hair. “Thanks for that.”

“Absolutely,” Harry laughs, knocking your shoulder with his knuckles. “Congratulations. It really is a huge deal.”

He knew you were successful, but hearing about how you set up the studio to look like a living room today and would be going back tomorrow in order to get your portrait taken in the room makes him realize just how successful you are. A four-page spread, including an interview on how you’d taken London by storm and your influences would be seen within the American market soon. Their words, not yours, you assured Harry.

As the two of you walk through the rooms on the second floor, he asks how you started within the industry. You explain to him that you went to school to be a financial advisor and specialized in small business accounts. You were a pencil-pusher, you told Harry, and you were stuck in an office all day long. You’d spend your weekends refurbishing antique furniture, finding that you’d had a knack for it. It made you happy - so happy that it was the only thing that got you through the monotony of your work week. Although you loved your clients and always enjoyed the pride that came with their wins, you weren’t especially happy in your job. Something had to change.

After agreeing that all of the light fixtures upstairs would have to be replaced, you went on to talk about how even though you saw how much stress your clients were under running their own businesses, you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to begin your own business.

“Put my life savings into my first shop,” you flick off the hallway bathroom’s light. “I was eating Ramen nearly every night. Went without electricity in my apartment for a week because I didn’t ‘ave enough money to pay for lights at the store and lights at home,” you laugh. “Feels like such a long time ago…”

You started out selling furniture and other decor items. It was tough, but little by little, you made progress. Eventually, one of your regular customers asked if you were interested in working with her as an interior design consultant for her company. It helped get your name out, and soon you were redesigning spaces for people you could’ve never imagined.

Harry admires how smart and brave you are - he can understand how scary it is to go it alone without knowing the results. He was going through it right now. He was in a more privileged position, sure, but he was still unsure of what the future held, and he could appreciate how much courage it took to start over. It made him look at you in a different light - a light that allowed him to see the struggle you’d gone through, working you way from nothing to one of the best in your field. He’d envied the confidence that you sported when it came to your work and wondered if he, himself, would ever feel that.

Once you’re finished taking down all of the information you need, you follow Harry back downstairs.

“Still raining,” you frown, gathering all of your materials. “Does wonders for the hair.” You pretend to flip it over your shoulders. The natural state of it brought out by the weather makes Harry want you all the more.

“Ye’ look great.”

You tut, rolling your eyes a bit, but thank him nonetheless. “So, ‘ve got to take off,” you state, your body language pulling you back to the foyer. “But I really am so excited to get started on the mockups,” you hop a little. “It’s a beautiful space and we can start from scratch, which is when I have most of my fun.”

“‘m excited too,” Harry smiles.

“‘ll have Megan call you when I’m done with the renderings,” you slip your boots back on. “Should take no longer than a week. So count on next Thursday?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “And congratulations again on the magazine - really is a big deal.”

You tilt your head to the side, all of your features softening. “Thank you, Harry,” you smile coyly. You squeeze him a bit as you hug goodbye, the materials in your arms pressed between the two of you creating a barrier that Harry would rather be without. “I had fun today.”

“I did, too.”

He watches you run to your work van, leaping over a particularly large puddle. He laughs to himself as you struggle with your keys before unlocking the driver’s door, diving into the vehicle with a sigh that he can’t see. He watches as you push your mussed-up hair back, noticing him standing in the front window. You wave with a knowing smile before turning on the engine and backing out of the drive.

It’s that smile - that sly smirk - that pushes Harry over the edge that night.

He didn’t want to touch himself, but he’d been rock hard ever since he saw how beautiful your ass looked in your paint-splattered work jeans as you ran to the car. He didn’t want to defile you in his mind as he stroked himself in the shower, water running down his shoulders and back as he faced away from the spray. He didn’t want to moan your name as his balls tightened, the images of you naked and begging for him littering his mind to the point of no return.

But, he did.

He had to.

Nobody would know - it would be his secret - but if he didn’t jack off to the thought of you, he was sure he’d lose his damn mind.

He pictures you sporting the same upturn of your lips from earlier as you ride him, your flannel from that day still on, yet unbuttoned to reveal your breasts as you grind down against him. You know what you do to him, and your smile tells all. He imagines how beautiful you’d sound as he gripped your hips, slowing your movements to nearly a stop while he pushes up into you, groaning at the gasp you give him in return.

He’d never wanted to be inside someone as much as he wanted to be inside you. He wants to feel your breath against his ear, his name across your lips, your fingertips gripping his shoulders. He wants to know what you taste like - sweet, probably, like the candles you burn. He wants to know how warm you are; how wet he can make you by just the touch of his lips to yours. He wants to hear your moan - feel it vibrate down his cock while he’s in your mouth, that gorgeous pout of yours wrapped around the head of him.

He wants it all, but he can’t have it, so his hand will have to do.

A part of him feels guilty when he cums on the shower wall, his splotchy vision and ringing ears indicating that he gave in too quickly. But, fuck. What was a man supposed to do? You’d smelled so good; your stories never bored him; you were becoming a global success and you’d accepted to work with him.

And your ass? In those jeans?

He was done before he ever began, as far as that was concerned.

He walks out of the shower on shaky legs, a white bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he takes his head in his hands and grunts.

“Fuck’r you on, Styles?” he asks himself.

He leans back onto the covers, his feet dangling off the edge of his bed that he’ll soon replace with another one, based upon your recommendation. He falls asleep that way - sleeps deeply, too, his hair wet and his towel coming undone after he shifts slightly in his slumber. It’s a deep sleep, one that doesn’t produce a memory of a dream, and Harry is thankful for that.

He doesn’t think he could take another night of dreaming of you.

Not if he wasn’t able to turn those dreams into a reality so that his mind could stop wandering day in and day out...

Not if he wasn’t able to get what he wanted...

Not if, he knows, he wasn’t able to make you his.

[nihilismdan]

between the bars.

word count: 4946 warnings: none. summary: Dan is a lonely twenty-something year old not really looking for a connection until he finds one, and not in the way he expected, in fact he can't even remember it. Or the one where Dan and Phil meet on Tinder. a/n: under the cut.

a/n:I've had this idea in my head since Phil's tinder video. I had planned for this to be literally a 2k word fic. That didn't go as planned. I've been working on this for two fics and I'm proud for it to be done. This fic comes from a special place as I am talking to a girl and we're actually going on a date soon and I just really wanted a way to express that feeling of liking someone, (especially of the same sex) for the first time and how special and sort of magical it feels. Enjoy.

i.

He downloads the app because he’s drunk at his house warming party, and he sets up his account when he’s sitting in his tub with his friend right next to him with a bottle of malibu in between them. Someone had come in not too long ago turning the shower on and they’re sitting with their natural (curly, frizzy) hair, their clothes are wet but they’re too drunk to notice or really care. Lauren grabs his phone from him and goes through his photos to find a couple of “good ones” to put on his profile. They argue but then laugh because he’s trying too hard in some photos but they can make it look like it’s purposeful.

“What a night, huh?” Lauren says as she’s swiping right on people. She doesn’t mean that she put the settings on both “men and women,” in the beginning it was a joke -- the whole profile was a joke, and no male has actually matched with Dan yet.

“Yeah… yeah.” Dan says, tipping the bottle back and all he wants to do is lay down. He is a grown man, and he is drunk in his bathroom with a friend who’s a bit older than he is.

“We need a bio.” She slurs.

“My life is a joke.” Dan says, “I like pizza.” It’s a solid bio to Dan, he’s not expecting responses plus in the morning when he’s throwing up and feeling the wrath of the hangover he can just delete the app and pretend that it didn’t happen. At least he’ll have a funny story for his youtube channel. He’ll probably leave the dating app out though. Yeah, sounds like a plan.

“Hey, you got a match,” He thinks he hears his friend say but he can’t be sure, there’s too much alcohol in his system he just wants to sleep.

ii.

Dan couldn’t move the entire morning after the party. The most effort he had done was get out of the bathroom and to his bed and he didn’t move for hours after that. He was sweating and he could smell the alcohol off of him and he was nauseas, and then there were the body aches. He took some pain reliever and started to pick up after his friends, it was a lot of bottles and a lot of food gone to waste, he had just moved in yet his house had felt worn in already which was comforting but also just a lot of work to do for someone who hadn’t even been living here for a month yet.

He didn’t dare check his phone yet, he figured if he could distract himself with the clean up and a shower whatever he’d find wouldn’t exist and it didn’t happen. He was prone to drunk text a lot of his friends that he didn’t talk to anymore, but he was more scared of contact his ex during a night of drinking but he honestly couldn’t remember much of last night.

After a long shower and a cup of peppermint tea he had found himself back in bed with all the lights off and the only comfort he had was the light coming from his screen. He had seen the numerous notifications of people who matched with him, though he doesn’t remember really swiping anyone.

He moans and cringes, unlocking his phone and getting on the app to see the damage. He first looks at his profile and the selfies that Lauren had chose and shakes his head at the main photo he used, and then at his bio and his several interests below that he hadn’t bothered to unlike on facebook.

He finally gets the guts to look at messages, all of them are messages that just say “whats up” and they’re all females except for one. He takes a deep breath and then clicks on the message:

I just wanted to say that your bio is very short and sweet and i like it.

The first thing that Dan notices is the boy’s hair. He also mentions it on his profile.

“I’m that guy with the hair. I also like x-files, corgis and terrible puns.”

Dan reads the message over again. There’s a weird feeling he has looking at his profile, seeing their similar likes and interests, things that he also forgot to uncheck when he was making his tinder profile, and he looks at his selfies- some are just of him, and then he sees some with his friends he assumes or family. He has a very nice smile and pretty eyes. You could go swimming in those eyes, Dan thinks to himself and then cringes at the thought of him using that as a pick up line towards the other boy. And that’s just the thing -- he does want to reply back to him. Very badly, actually. He sighs again and then shakes his head. Why not?

haha thanks. i put in a lot of effort if you can’t tell. i like x-files, corgis, and terrible puns too.

He sent the message and then huffed, locking his phone and then turned on his side to look at the wall.

He hears a buzz a few moments later.

Looks like we have a lot in common! Even the same hair! What else do you like?

Dan finds himself looking at Phil’s profile again and smiling. He writes back to him.

did you steal my hair? i really like naps, breakfast food, wifi, space. wby???

When he hits send he waits for a moment, and then he grabs his headphones, if he’s not going to sleep he’s going to watch youtube if Phil was going to reply back as fast as he had been. It was an odd thing for Dan- he talked to people online all the time, for godssake he was someone who made videos for a living, but this was different- it was weird but completely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

I DID. I’m older than you so I think you actually stole my hair :p What a coincidence, we both like naps, breakfast food, wifi, and space. I’d ask you what you’re looking for on tinder but that’s pretty boring question. Do you prefer tea or coffee?

Dan snorts reading the message, but he waits for a few minutes before replying back. He doesn’t want to seem desperate.

lies. i mean i don’t go outside but i do go on the nasa instagram and look at the photos of space they put up. hopefully that counts.

Dan ignores the tinder comment.

listen i know we’re british and like tea is a staple…. but i love coffee. well, it has to taste sugary for me to like coffee. to be specific, i love caramel machiatto’s from starbucks and I KNOW that it’s mostly just milk and caramel flavouring but it tastes great.

Dan had felt like he told too much there, their messages getting a little bit bigger each reply, he felt his eyes getting heavy though and he really did need to sleep. He was trying to stay up and at least read Phil’s message but he passed out listening to someone rant about algorithms and dreamed of parties and bathtubs.

iii.

Over the course of the week Dan slowly brings his apartment to life and he documents it in small little clips on his phone that he’ll eventually piece together into a video for his audience. Dan finds it enjoyable to be able to pick what kind of houseplants he wants in his apartment and what kind of cooking utensils he needs and if he wants the cutting board that’s green or white- it’s small little decisions that he enjoys because they’re his decisions and they belong to him.

And he checks his phone during those small little decisions for a message from Phil. They talk more at night. Phil is sometimes out of touch, and Dan can’t blame him. He hasn’t even asked him what he does yet. Right now they’re just talking. Sometimes when Dan is feeling brave enough or after a glass of beer he’ll ask Phil how his day is. And Phil will reply with tidbits of his day, and tell him a funny thing that happened to him, and Dan will be sitting at the pub with his friends and smile down at his phone, and his friends will laugh at him because he’s staring down at his crotch and laughing at him, and he’ll blush a little. Thanks, Phil, he’ll think internally and he’d want to tell him that but he’s scared that he’s just building his version of Phil or the Phil he wants him to be in his head and it’s always hard for boys like Dan- he falls for people so easily- or, well, he fell for this boy so easy. Perhaps because he’s the first boy to really give Dan the light of day. And he answers him back.

My day was good! I visited my parents which was why i was MIA for a bit. They have terrible service in IOM. Sorry for such delayed messages. My brother and his girlfriend came too so it’s just been busy. It was good though! I got to finish up that Stephen King book I was telling you about. Did you do anything fun over the weekend? (: Also I missed talking to you and thought maybe we could exchange numbers? I never check this thing or get notifications so maybe texting would be easier?

Dan reads the message a couple of times. He doesn’t know why it makes him feel giddy inside. He sets his phone down and looks out the window. His view isn’t that great. It’s just of the street he lives on and the other apartments surrounding his. Cars park out front and teens kick rocks with their new shoes they bought for school.

glad to hear that your day was good. i understand. whenever i go back to wokingham i don’t get any service out there either. it’s cool you got to see your parents and brother. i wish i was closer to my brother. nice! hopefully it was a good read and wasn’t too predictable. nah i didn’t do anything fun. i went to the cinema and ate a lot of food haha. yeah, i was going to actually suggest texting it seems a lot easier but you beat me to it! here’s my number.

Dan has to film a video. He puts his phone on silent and then purposely leaves it in the kitchen while he sets up the camera and lights. The past couple of weeks of talking to Phil felt like a mess and unorganized and he felt like he didn’t know what he was doing. It had been a while since his last video and he knew that now was a good time to film. This was what Dan was good at. This is what he knew how to do. It was effortless to film a video, and it was slowly becoming effortless to talk to Phil. He didn’t want to get his hopes up though. He blocked it out for a half hour while he talked to his camera. He could do that.

When he finished filming he took his time putting everything away. It didn’t take long -- his apartment wasn’t that big, there wasn’t much room for everything but he made it work. His channel was doing good and growing slowly but surely. He liked where his channel was going and his audience was great, he could always guarantee some sort of funny discourse or art being made for his content. He knew that his parents weren’t exactly proud that he dropped out of law school and they didn’t understand the whole internet thing, after what had happened with his brother his parents had given him a cold shoulder for a while, they didn’t talk until a couple months ago. While he understood- living out here in London wasn’t easy and a lot of times he was lonely and just wanted to talk to someone familiar. He had his new friends, his youtube friends but there was still a bit of loneliness because he couldn’t really relate or know how to make conversation and have that conversation mean something, because if it didn’t mean something and if there wasn’t a purpose for it then what was the point?

Hearing his phone buzz as he stared out the window of his tiny flat he had smiled to himself a little, walking over to see that there were a few text messages and a call from his mom. No voicemail. She normally left a voicemail if it was important. He’d just text her what’s up.

Hey it’s Phil from tinder! (: I didn’t know you had a brother! Is he older or younger than you?I’m the baby of the family :p but my mom still spoils both of us over the holidays. Book was good! Def reccomend if you want something scary to read :3 I’m glad I have your number now, this is much easier.

This is how it gets easier for Dan. While he still feels the pit of anxiety when talking to a boy it’s getting easier for him to talk to Phil because he makes it easy. Dan finds himself getting a bit giddy every new message that Phil sends him.

hey there soz for late reply had to get some work stuff done. yeah his name is adrian. he’s younger than me and definitely gets spoiled more than me but it’s okay :p lol my parents throw in a couple socks at christmas to make up for it (the best gift ik) hmmm i’ll read it if YOU give it to me yeah? (; that sounded a lot more flirter than i intended for it to be i’m sorry. i think it’s just the winky face that makes it way more inappropriate.

Dan puts his phone down and looks in his fridge for what he can cook for dinner but he already knows that he’ll end up ordering a pizza and catching up on his subscription feed. He knows that he should go out and explore the city more but staying inside and eating pizza and possibly texting Phil most of the night is winning. There’s a feeling that he gets when he remembers that he’s actually talking to someone -- and he knows that this all wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t gotten so stupidly drunk a couple weeks ago but he’s thankful for it.

iv.

Phil asks him out on a date a couple of days later. Dan is out to dinner with friends when he asks. He tries to maintain his composure in the restaurant but inevitably excuses himself to the restroom where he locks himself in the bathroom stall and reads the message over again. And again. And again. And again. It didn’t feel real the more times he looks over the text.

Hey I know that we were just talking about movies but I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go to coffee or dinner or something? Because I really like talking to you and I think we have good conversation and it’d be nice to see you in person? (: If not, it’s cool!

Dan doesn’t care to wait to reply.

i can’t believe this is how you’re asking me out on a date by trying to play it cool, phil. of course i’d love to get ‘coffee or dinner or something’ with you. i’ve been meaning to ask you but you beat me to this first.

Dan is smitten.

v.

The first time they meet Dan is a ball of nerves. It’s at a restaurant that Phil suggested that he likes to eat at a lot in Chinatown. It’s a small hole in the wall, so when Dan and Phil hug its in front of a lot of people and Dan blushes and Phil looks at him intently. They talk about their journey to get to Chinatown. Dan is still getting used to the London transportation and had gotten off the wrong station and had to get back on the tube for a few more stops. Phil has been here for a while now and knows it by heart. He says that Dan will get used to it.

They’re sat in the back of the restaurant but with how close the tables are Dan and Phil are sort of scrunched together.

“I know it’s really cramped in here but the singapore dish is just so good,”

Dan’s voice shakes a little as their date progresses, and he stumbles on his words a lot and he’s trying his best to articulate but Phil stares at him like there’s not another soul in this tiny restaurant. Dan finds himself rambling a lot more than normal. He just has so much to say to someone who will listen to him.

“I’ll say you’re a lot more… chipper? In real life,” Phil laughs a little, stirring the soup and taking another bite.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s easy for him to be on camera, to have that to talk to, but in real life when Dan isn’t comfortable he’s silent, but with Phil it felt easy- effortless, and he’s only known him online but that’s been a lot of relationships with Dan; whether it was friendship or romance, when he’s online he can be more himself and he doesn’t have to worry about what he looks like or what he sounds like or any of the insecurity he harbours but it’s just easier. He has an online persona and sometimes he had to remind himself that he was a real person with feelings and he didn’t owe anyone anything and he was trying to let that part that he was still holding onto go. “I think because I work mainly online it kind of… bleeds into everything and it’s just a delicate balance,” Dan pays for dinner but Phil pays for coffee. There had been a silent agreement that they didn’t want the date to end. So they get coffee and find themselves just walking and talking. Dan is still relishing the fact that Phil remembered that Dan liked Caramel Machiatto’s (with extra caramel).

They talked a lot about what they normally text about -- other than the comment Phil had made, Dan is more lively now that he’s gotten a little bit used to the fact that Phil actually wanted to be here on the date with him. It was hard for him to comprehend that someone might actually like him.

“Why did you join Tinder? Now that I’ve gotten to know you it doesn’t seem… very you?” Phil takes a sip of his drink and Dan laughs a little.

“I know,” he feels the anxiety come back a little. “I’m going to be honest with you,”

When he looks back at Phil he’s listening, with a content smile.

“When I made my Tinder account I was kind of doing it to be ironic? Keep in mind that I was very drunk doing it, and I didn’t even know that we swiped each other until the morning after. And out of all the messages I recieved after all the random swiping I did- I don’t know- I just found myself interested in yours? Since it wasn’t some dumb pickup line and… you’re just easy to talk to,”

After a second Phil just smiles and laughs.

“After that story, I have something to give you,” Phil had brought his backpack with him which wasn’t unusual but Dan was surprised to see it. He had given him Doctor Sleep, and Dan had taken it and smiled.

“You said you’d read it if I gave it to you. I figured if I gave it to you after our first date it would guarantee me a second date,”

Dan is overwhelmed. He shakes his head. “I bet you think you’re smooth,” Dan smirks at him now and then gets closer and gives Phil a hug. It caught Phil off guard but he found himself wrapping his arms around him and it was warm.

vi.

Like many things in life, it takes time. At least that’s what Dan was telling himself as he slowly got to know Phil. After that night of their first date Dan kept running his hands over the book because it was his book, that he brought from home to give to Dan because he was thinking of a second date. He couldn’t begin to explain -- and probably didn’t really want to explain out of embarrassment- the many times he thought of that particular moment.

It had reminded him of a lot of school. There had been a lot of moments where Dan had questioned himself and his sexuality, (and it didn’t help that he went to an all boys school), when a boy that sat in front of him and bent over to pick his fallen pencil and give it back to him with a sweet smile. Dan would try and not stare too much at him but he got lost in other people’s eyes and was dying to make a connection- any connection. It was a lot of guessing of what was real or not, being at an all boy’s school, because he knew that there must have been other boys at his school wondering the same thing.

“The bullies were the worst,” Dan says over a Caramel Machiatto, with extra caramel, they’re sitting on Dan’s couch, Dan has his back against the armrest, his feet spread a little in front of him on his side of the couch while Phil is on the other side. They had made pasta at Dan’s house tonight.

“I remember they used to throw rocks at me for being a little different. If it wasn’t my hair or my voice it was something stupid, like the colour of my belt,” He taps his fingers against his to go cup, and he looks up at Phil who’s doing a lot of listening. He’s wearing his glasses since a lot of today he had been cooped up in an office editing videos for one of his many bosses, and Dan can’t stop thinking of how cute he looks, but he’s trying not to get too distracted.

(Turns out it wasn’t that weird for Phil to find out that Dan was a youtuber. They both were sort of in the same career- Phil made a lot of short films and not that much dialogue, but he mostly edited for other people.)

“That’s a very... strange thing of them to point out,” Phil tries to make a joke about manliness to help ease some of Dan's tension, he ends up placing a hand on Dan’s knee, a gentle squeeze and he lets go.

It was a good point. Dan had always wondered if at least one of his bullies had ever had a crush on Dan since they seemed to call him a lot of name, and he didn’t understand any of it -- Dan was just the guy that listened to a lot of Radiohead and My Chemical Romance and appreciated to read some crappy philosophy book because he saw his dad reading it.

Dan smiled at Phil, there was a silence that often fell over them, it wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact, sometimes they would just sit in the room together and be quiet, and read or go on the internet. They hadn’t kissed yet because Dan was nervous- and each time he tried to go in for a kiss it was like Phil knew that he wasn’t ready, and they wouldn’t say anything, they’d just wrap their arms around the other. The hugs lasted a long time and Dan had never felt more safe.

Dan puts his cup of coffee down on the coffee table and looks at Phil again. It was a new feeling, it felt warm, and gooey- the best way Dan could prescribe it was like when he was a kid going on a roller coaster for the very first time, you anticipate getting up to the top, and you know that any second now the ride will drop and when it does it takes your breath away and you can’t help but want to either yell or laugh, and maybe you did a little bit of both, but there’s a moment of pure ecstasy when you’re going down and it’s a feeling he was afraid that he’d never get back again.

“Can I?” Dan says, getting a little closer to Phil.

In response, Phil nods his head with a smile that’s encouraging.

Dan felt that feeling he felt that first time he ever kissed a boy; he was a bundle of nerves leaning in. When their lips touched it felt soft and quick. Before Dan could think of going in for another kiss Phil had beat him to it, and this time he had made it long and sweet. Dan was trying to think of adjectives that could describe what he felt, but he was all feelings and less logical, and he blanked out when Phil sucked on his bottom lip and pulled away. He felt dizzy, but in a good way. If Dan could spend the rest of his life in such close proximity of Phil, in this moment and small bubble- he would.

vii.

Dan stores every piece of information that Phil gives him about his life, there are areas that they haven’t talked about yet, and it’s not that they were off limits, it’s just that it was hard. Dan didn’t open up to people very much but Phil was a mystery. He wanted to know everything that Phil would give him. Above all though- Dan wanted Phil to be his boyfriend.

The conversation about it didn’t go as planned but that was okay with Dan.

Dan and Phil are making another meal together and they were waiting for the pizza in the oven. Dan was against one side of the kitchen while Phil was on the other, they had been talking about previous bad dates and some were funny, others were sort of sad, both had been stood up once or twice and while it normally didn’t really bother Dan not knowing Phil’s sort of- origin story of his sexuality, he still wanted to know. He knew not to be scared to ask but when talking about someone else’s sexuality it was personal, and Dan understood that.

“How did you know that you liked boys?” Dan can feel his heart rate increase and he gripped the counter for extra support.

Phil kind of laughs a little, “Uh, well. I remember seeing this guy walk past me in a shopping centre, and I was like, ‘Hey, he’s hot,’ and then, ‘Huh Phil? Oh. Wait.’ and you know -- that was that. What about you?”

Dan could see his retell happening, it made him smile.

“I didn’t. And then you know, I met a guy… and we were something -- and then we were nothing.”

“Me too."

When their pizza finished they were quiet, but sitting at the table they had began to ask the other questions about the guys that had once stolen their heart. Dan tells Phil about his first kiss with a boy and how similar but different it felt. He tells him about Erin, and how everyone had sworn that the two of them would have gotten married, but he didn’t love her like that anymore. While he still felt love for her -- it wasn’t the same, and it was a confusing and painful time in his life. His first official crush on a boy had been after that and they weren’t really anything- they messed around a lot but eventually the other boy had moved and inevitably moved on and Dan started youtube.

Dan does learn about a boy named Charlie. Sometimes Phil stopped eating to look at it for a second too long and Dan knew that it had been something real for Phil and important. He won’t say anything, but he’ll think that he’d do anything to make Phil smile, and try and make up for that loss and hurt. There were holes in Dan and Phil that were meant to be there because of the people that had edged their way into their hearts, and they’d stay there, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anymore room to love.

When Phil’s eating his last slice of pizza Dan smiles at him. “Want to be my boyfriend?”

“Hm. I think so.”

And that was the beginning of everything.

viii.

They delete the app together, and hold hands on the sofa, and they make out on Dan’s bed, and subtweet sweet things to each other while they’re laying next to each other. Dan steals a lot of Phil’s shirts and Phil buys Dan a nightlight because he knows that he sometimes is scared of the dark.

Dan’s insecurities flare up sometimes, and he’ll lay on his side and whisper, “Why do you even like me?”

Because everyone else is boring and you're different.

And sometimes that’s enough.

Dan is learning that loving this boy is a work in progress, and it’s new, and different, and familiar all at the same time. If Dan were to rate the love that he felt on a scale of one to ten he’d say that Phil was his ten.

And when he does plan on telling him he loves him, he’ll tell him that he’s his ten. Someday. Soon.

[obwcmp]

Year 2 Semester 1

It’s only the end of week 3 and already so much has happened. Scrap that it’s now the end of week 6! It’s been a super busy first half of semester and there’s still heaps of stuff left to do. 

And now it’s the end of week 9, after the mid semester break. So, let’s get to it! 

At long last, welcome to the end of week 12. The end of the semester. From today I have one more week of work left before the super long mid year break. This has turned into a semester look back post after 9 weeks of keeping it in my drafts. So, let’s get to it!

My four courses for this semester consist of three compulsory, core CMP classes, and a single elective. I picked a first year course, Visualisation for Media Production (VIS) as my elective, and then Cross Media Production (CMD), Working with Scripted Material (SCR), and Portfolio and Dissemination (PRT). 

VIS is interesting for a first year course. To make a good end product requires as much work as a second year course if not more. Of course, given that it is a first year course, it allows for students to make something which isn’t necessarily incredible. Take last years animations as an example (something i never got to show on this blog, sadly).

We have two main parts of our final hand in at the end of the semester. The first is to create a character concept through mixing two different story worlds and having the resulting character make sense within one of the worlds. So in my case, i took Piglet from 100 Acre Wood, and created a character which had the essence of Piglet, but made sense in the world of Mad Max. We had a selection of different worlds to choose from, and i thought that combination would be funny.

The end goal with the character part of the assignment is to show our developments and a final rendered character drawing, alongside a prop and a vehicle. It was supposed to be done by the end of Week 7, and here we are 4 weeks later with it still not done. Fun!

So many moodboards...

A small slice of the development stage, these are a bunch of silhouettes for various characters I made up. Of this selection (we were aiming for 50 initial silhouettes) we had to pick three which were based on the same character and then develop 30 more from those three, but this time we were fleshing out the inner details. I’m up to this stage now.

Currently my character is based on Piglet, who used to be a circus performer before dropping out and joining forces with bandits. A master of playing the fool without being overly conscious of it, while always hiding their true identity behind a mask. They still have their circus shoes, but they’ve been modified over the years to be more combat ready. A long coat to protect from dust, the usual cargo pants seen in Fury Road, and a pig mask, the details of which i’m still fleshing out. As for the prop and vehicle, i’m thinking of a gliding flying machine (given piglet seems to always be carried away by the wind) and their prop is a spear with a spinning ring of chainsaws in the shape of a flower at the end.

My work so far, the two lower right side ones are the ones i’m going with despite their lower bar of detail.

The second part of the assignment it to take a scene from a selection of different movies, and break it down shot by shot into a storyboard, including rough and final storyboards, and then turning the finals into an animatic. It’s definitely the easier part of the assignment, at least from my point of view. I’ve picked the scene from Mad Max 2 when Max meets the gyrocopter pilot for the first time. 

The rough storyboard of the scene. I’m yet to go through and create a clean looking, multi layer final version which can then be translated into an animatic.

Next on the list of courses is Cross Media! It’s an interesting course in that it’s almost a taste of what’s to come in third year. We were given a brief, “Don’t mind the generation gap” where we were tasked to make a cross media narrative that plays upon, goes against, or has something to say on generational differences and stereotypes. Being that the project is cross media, we have been tasked with using two different mediums to tell the same story, and as an extra challenge we also have to take into consideration a narrative requirement between being location based, time based, or data driven.

I had an idea which I really liked but was hastily written and had role descriptions which I think scared people off. The mediums consisted of a game, a sculpture, and was location based. The game was a web based point and click adventure game which utilised real photos taken around Wellington, which were then manipulated to add certain elements, particularly puzzles (this part of the idea was blatantly ripped off an idea Marie had where we would use a 360º camera to take pictures and create a point and click game with that (think geoguessr, or Myst III as opposed to Riven)). In the game you would be able to go to the location where my location based sculpture would be set up. The sculpture in this case is an interactive computer terminal which tells the same story in a different way. Completing the story the terminal tells, and also taking into account clues placed around the terminal allows for the ‘true’ ending to be unlocked in the point and click game. Along with this, the location in the game and the actual physical location have many differences, and it takes you to see both to see the differences (for instance, the hints around the terminal can only be found in the physical game, and are only hinted at in the web based game)). 

My roles included wanting to use Unreal Engine 4, amongst other things, so that idea flopped. I ended up joining groups with Paris who had an AR game crossed with a location based ‘book’ in the form of a poster campaign on public transport. Along with Paris and I joined Clara, Kennedy, Grace, and Jacob. We called ourselves Paris’ Little Bitches, and got going! The whole project has developed fairly far since the initial concept was laid down. Originally, we were going to locate the posters on public transport but the lecturer Birgit was quick to point out that from an access standpoint that was far from ideal. Currently we are thinking of hosting the posters in malls, and public places where there is a wide range of audiences passing through. 

In week 11 we had our demo for the project in class 1D04 which was fun! We printed hand outs and had our game functioning at a very basic stage on a couple of different computers. Our moderators, Bridget and Kerry Ann from the school of music and school of design respectively, seemed to like what we had done which was a relief. 

A laggy screen capture of the basic button functionality which works with AR, i’ll have a final version available on my portfolio after 7JUN

Next on the list is Working with Scripted Material. This course has been fun as we’ve had a lot of creative wiggle room to do what we want, but at the same time we get a slice of how harsh things like money and time can be on creativity. A good reality check in other words. Back in week 1 we were given a triptych to use as a “story starter” so we used these three images, which had some basic dialogue and set pieces, and created a story from them. My idea didn’t get picked, it was ridiculously ambitious as are most of my projects, and instead I joined Hunter’s idea which involved Lovecraftian horror/thriller type stuff but set in New Zealand. 

Thus In The Harbour Troubled Waters was born. Jonathan, our tutor, couldn’t stand the old name. In our group we had Morgan as director, Hunter as producer, Paris as writer, Ebeney as production designer, Tim as script consultant and editor, and me on marketing. 

A very low resolution screenshot of a poster Morgan made for the final hand in.

Our project, at least in our eyes, got the most criticism from Jonathan which was honestly super helpful. We’ve come out with a pretty solid concept to hand in, and along with that he likes our script. What a relief! 

Lastly from my selection of courses is Portfolio and Dissemination! This course has been such a good kick in the arse to get myself to make my portfolio which for most of last year was just a handful of .html files sitting around in my project folders. Something else amusing about PRT is that this blog became part of my assessment! Not intentional at all but an added bonus. As a result the navigation on this blog has been cleaned up, and there’s now a link to my portfolio at the top of the page! I’m thinking of adding social media links here too.

A sneak peek at my homepage. My portfolio is at obw.neocities.org!

The first half of the course just had us working on our portfolios and looking into what makes a portfolio good. I had a very good conversation with our lecturer and tutor, Sim, about our thoughts on what makes a portfolio stand out and how that is changing over time. Sim really wanted us to tell our story as a creator, and show progression and growth, whereas I was more of the understanding that only showing your absolute best in a compact and punchy portfolio was the way to go. 

I mostly stuck to my guns with what I showed in my portfolio, for example my ridiculous VFX reel which is less than a minute long:

I’m not kidding!

Sim and my friends liked it though so i’m happy. 

Our second part of the course was interesting, as we had to plan an event which could be used to promote our portfolios through. Josh came up with an idea for a game jam type arrangement where participants would bring in their own assets which were then added to a pool which all the rest of the participants could pull from to create pretty much anything, not just a game. 

Thus, Multi Asset Slam House or MASH was born. 

Bright pink, glitchy marketing was the path we took with this

We presented our idea earlier this week (week 12) and people seemed to really like it, including Matthew who is the course coordinator for some of the film courses in CMP which is yet another relief as he is very critical with his feedback. 

That about sums it up for my courses! Along with this stuff I got close to starting a club with some friends, went to Global Game Jam in Wellington back in January, Massey Digital’s attendance grew exponentially. Expect another post soon with those events and what’s to come in the near future.

[mfmagazine]

Absence of Grace

Article by Victoria Everman

Since their inception in October 2003, Absence of Grace have focused solely on kicking out vicious jams and putting crowds into a frenzy. Showing an obvious disdain for the various sects and fashions associated with most of today’s music, AOG are more interested in making music that any punk or metal enthusiast will appreciate than being a part of any scene. mf recently caught up with two of the band’s members, Dan Cedarland and Dave Orton, in order to discuss their upcoming release, their underlying mission, and some other assorted craziness. First of all, can you give me the lineup of the band and everyone's role? Dan Cedarland – Guitar/Vox/Looks Dave Orton – Guitar/Vox Jesse Rage – Bass Tracey Barbee – Drums/Beer Bong/Temper You have a new release coming up called The Distilled Entrails EP – a great title if I’ve ever heard one. Can you give us a quick synopsis of what to expect? Dan: Yes, the name is great. Our drummer is on business in North Dakota at the moment so the release has been postponed for now. You can expect a broad spectrum of song styles ranging from more traditional power metal to more progressive hardcore. We pretty much just play what we feel and don't take too much interest in genres. Dave: Since we've been doing all the recording ourselves its hard to decide on what to keep and what to file under ‘suck’. With all the new ideas, songs, and us evolving as actual musicians it's taken us longer than planned to get it out. You can hear a couple of hard tracks on our Myspace account (www.myspace.com/absenceofgrace) but I doubt those actual versions will be on the EP. Also, doing Distilled on our own has weaved out an ultra-stylish producer telling us what he thinks sounds good. I think it keeps our jams honest and clean. So rumor has it that your live show is not for the faint of heart - what can someone expect if they go check you guys out? Dan: Black eyes and fights! Its not that we try to offend people, it just happens. I think people think that metal and hardcore musicians are supposed to be angry and oppressed but we really aren't and that makes them mad. The music is good, its really high energy and tons of fun! Dave: I agree with Dan. Yeah sure, we’re serious about the music and what we create, but the soul of the live performance has been run down by fashion. It actually looks like we’re having a good time on stage instead of holding back, drowning in our sorrows. Drinking on stage, being drunk and letting your views and ideals dribble off your lower lip are all parts of rock that have been desecrated by hardcore karate chops. Sometimes people agree with it, and sometimes they want to throw a fit and gang beat you after a set, or before. Your website lists a bunch of influences such as Iron Maiden, Danzig, Slayer and The Misfits. What was it about metal and punk that that drew you in and made you want to do this? Dan: I just really like the energy of power metal and the realism of punk. I really just wanted to create something pure and honest, if it gets boring for me I’ll play something else. Dave: For the most part we all grew up on punk. The attitude is so thin on all of the new wave punk bands - everyone's trying to fit a pre-made mold that has nothing to do with the heart. When we were growing up, driving around in Tracey's ford blinded by alcohol, breaking out windows and pissing on doorsteps was hardly enough for us to make a statement. Then we started a band, and we may have not known it at the time but it was fuel for the fire we are now. Nowadays all you have to do is throw on your best set of fingerless gloves, coif your bangs over one eye, and fuck men in the ass. Now that's entertainment! How about giving me something crazy that's happened to you guys while on the road or during a performance? Dan: 10 or so guys before a performance in Olympia, WA assaulted me. It was a surreal thing, people hate you and you never fucking met them in your life. They used brass knuckles and the whole bit. My teeth got chipped and I had a broken nose from it, but we played a week later. Dave: Our first show at Hell's Kitchen was probably the most eventful after Dan's radical gang beating. I told all of the female fans that wanted to do us to form a single file line and we'd get to them after the show. I guess some kids didn't take too kindly to that and a fight broke out shortly thereafter. Some chick got her lip ring pulled out, one of our friends got clocked, and another friend had a knife pulled on him after the show. I guess that's what you get when you're not reppin' an awesome crew (laughs). After the show we received a bunch of hate mail stating that we needed to do our homework on the "scene." I guess it dates back to high school; I never really got around to turning that assignment in. Whoops. Other than the EP, what do you guys have planned for the future? Dan: We plan on stepping up to whatever challenge befalls us. This will never end as long as we love music regardless of fame or fortune. Its just second nature, we just want to keep on! Dave: Just to keep on going. Our new material is going to turn some heads, and it might be a good idea for you jerks at MF to keep an eye on us. Other than that, watch for us on tour later this year.

[jamesbyerj]

One with the Force - Kingo64

In the feature, we're chatting with Kingo64, the creator of the most popular mod for Blade & Sorcery - The Outer Rim. Being a bit of a Star Wars geek myself, this is a mod I've been following for a long time.  [b]Thank you for joining me Alex ([url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/users/470810]Kingo64[/url]), we'll start as we always do, can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?  [/b] Hey! My name is Alex, I’m a full-time software developer and a fairly recognisable member of the Blade & Sorcery Discord server. I’ve been modding the game Blade & Sorcery for a bit over a year now and have obliterated any notion of ‘free time’ I once had since starting [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/528]The Outer Rim[/url]. It’s been said that I have ‘a bit of a personality’, and I’ve been blessed with many friends from modding communities over the years, notably from a now-defunct forum called Facepunch. I’ve been pretty fortunate and grew up with computers and video games from a young age. Without the internet you kinda needed to figure things out on your own, stumbling around through game files, seeing what you could change, trying to make the villains of the game bark like a dog for your own amusement. Modding was always one of the big appeal factors when it came to games for me since it essentially meant that the games were never ‘done’ as long as people remained interested it’s like an endless sunset. I’m still not sure if I’d ever want to work full-time in the video game industry but I suppose there’s always a possibility if I change my mind? There are always opportunities out there. [b]What are your favourite games of all time and what do you love about them?  [/b] Ha, I’m not too good at picking favourites. I suppose I’ve always enjoyed first-person shooters the most; along with role-playing games. I think I’ll just throw out a fly fishing line and reel off a big list of names and see if we get any bites. [u]Multiplayer games[/u] [list] [*]Unreal Tournament ‘99 [*]Quake 3 Arena [*]Battlefield 1942 & 2 [*]Halo: Combat Evolved [*]Garry’s Mod [*]Worms Armageddon [/list][u] Single-player games[/u] [list] [*]Half-Life 1 & 2, Opposing Force, Blue Shift, Black Mesa [*]S.T.A.L.K.E.R. series [*]The Elderscrolls III: Morrowind [*]Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic series [*]The Witcher 2 & 3 [*]Id Tech 3 classics such as: Jedi Knight series, Call of Duty + United Offensive, Return to Castle Wolfenstein, Soldier of Fortune 2: Double Helix [*]Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory [/list] Without turning this into a TEDx Talk (call me TEDx if you want rambling subjective opinions on games), it mainly boils down to either enjoying the gameplay, the story, or the atmosphere/world building. All of these games have left me with long term memories, unique experiences, and wield some kind of spark that just makes me want to hope for a rainy day or a good excuse to dive back into them. I’d encourage those who haven’t played some of these games to check them out, they’re pretty fun. [b]Before we start talking about your mods, I'm guessing you're a huge Star Wars fan. There are tonnes of games, movies and other media in the franchise. What are your favourites?  [/b] Fun fact, I wasn’t much of a Star Wars turbo nerd when I first started the project but I have had to do a fair amount of research into the lore, wikis, and books in order to create [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/528]The Outer Rim[/url] in a way that respects both the Star Wars Expanded Universe / Legends and the canon. Fact-checkers are welcome. For those of you who have not watched the TV series ‘The Clone Wars’, do yourself a favour and watch that. Specifically with the ‘Ultimate Episode Order’ (you can find that online) which restructures it chronologically. It masterfully fleshes out the Star Wars universe and gives a plasteel backbone to the characters in the prequels and what they should be remembered for. This TV series in its totality is arguably better than the movies. As I’ve mentioned earlier with the games, I highly recommend Jedi Outcast / Jedi Academy from the Jedi Knight series along with the Knights of the Old Republic series. They are the primary inspirations for [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/528]The Outer Rim[/url] when it comes to gameplay design. [b]The sequel trilogy had a fairly mixed reception from Star Wars fans, what are your feelings about it?  [/b] The sequel trilogy really garners a lot of mixed feelings from everyone. For younger audiences, this will likely be their introduction to the Star Wars universe on the big screen - bright-eyed without prior conceptions of what to expect, who they’ll see or what may happen. It’s all new to them and it’s all fantastic. They’ll grow up and look back fondly at the time they saw Star Wars Episode 7 in the cinema when the older generations were audibly grumbling at the thought of it. The same thing happened when The Phantom Menace came out and the same thing will happen again when the re-animated corpse of Darth Plagueis rears his head 15 years from now when another trilogy is announced for the next generation of kids. Personally, I thought the sequels were incredibly lack-lustre, disappointing, and almost a deliberate betrayal to the Star Wars ecosystem they’ve built up over the years. It’s no surprise some people prefer to stick their head in the sand and just pretend they never happened. All of the characters were either unlikeable or forgettable; excusing Kylo Ren - a pale imitation of Revan. The story was poorly developed, ham-fisted, and mostly surmounted to nothing (Last Jedi particularly). There was a very clear agenda on ‘throwing away the past / wiping the slate clean’ to absolve themselves of the original trilogy and prequels. I understand that their intention was to create a fresh footing to tell new stories on but it ultimately backfired on them pretty hard, unfortunately. Red Letter Media, in particular, gave a pretty good summation on the recent movies that mostly match my opinions for those looking for a meaty analysis. Rogue One was fantastic though, congrats. [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1597753699-614768287.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1597753704-1234122797.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]Talking about mods now, you started out modding back in the height of the Oblivion days with a few small compatibility patches, have you done much modding between then and when you discovered Blade & Sorcery? [/b] Well, to be frank, I’ve been modding games since the dark ages before stable internet connections and when we used to get games on discs in magazines. It made sense to me to try and create new content for yourself where possible, whether it is custom maps/campaigns, gameplay tweaks, asset modification, rather than waiting for the next game. Games were often released as a final distributable copy rather than the evergreen update cycle we expect today and often did not receive patches outside of expansion packs.  Generally, when I make a mod it’s for personal use and may be shared with my friends at most. More often than not because the mod is an opinion piece on gameplay tweaking, or a compilation of other mods, or simply not worth uploading. Another big factor would be the fact that it was only within the last couple of years have I ever had an upload speed that could transfer information faster than a person flapping a blanket over a smokey fire. Between the Oblivion days and now, the most prominent mods I’ve released would be the shader packages for S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Shadow of Chernobyl and Clear Sky, known as [url=https://sites.google.com/site/kingo64ssite/Home/optimised-game-shaders/stalker-shaders-max]STALKER Shaders MAX[/url], which primarily focused on improving performance and improving graphics - a necessity for my low-end 7300GT and mid-range 9600GT that I had back in the day which struggled to play the game. But yeah, mostly was just kicking back, enjoying everyone else’s mods until the creative itch started to kick in. It’s difficult to manage time with social life, work, family, friends, hobbies. [b]How did you discover Blade & Sorcery and what is it about the game that keeps you coming back? [/b] I bought it on a whim whilst growing out my VR library and was surprised by how polished and enjoyable the melee combat was, easily the defining feature of the game. The fluidity and believability of the melee combat have really set it apart from other games that have attempted it such as Boneworks and those not courageous enough to try such as Half-Life: Alyx. Even though it’s still currently a sandbox game, I’ve found it to be much more replayable than any other VR title I’ve played. I think it’s really setting the precedent on how good melee combat and item interaction should be achieved. In the VR FPS space, Pavlov VR has potential but it’s still stuck in its Counter-Strike mindset and Hot dogs, Horseshoes and Hand Grenades (H3VR) still has controls that make QWOP look like a walk in the park. Personally, I’m not really looking for online matchmaking when I want to play VR games, I kinda just want to pick it up and do my own thing - play however I want. That’s something that I’ve been able to do with Blade & Sorcery and the replayability I’d like to see in non-story driven VR titles. Each major update for the game has given us a glimpse of what to expect in the released version. The roadmap is really promising and I can’t wait to see what it develops into after it leaves early access. After many conversations with the lead developer over the past year, it’s pretty comforting to know that he shares the same opinions on gameplay design, decisions and direction as I do and I feel confident in saying that the game’s in good hands. The mod support for the game is incredible. I’m surprised by how large the modding community has become given the niche nature of the game. It’s a testament to how building a game with a positive attitude and public SDK only strengthens the community and widens the appeal, ultimately serving a more diverse and enjoyable experience for everyone. [center][youtube]fcyU6sE7rBo[/youtube][/center] [b]For anyone who hasn't played it yet, can you tell us about your biggest mod - [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/528]The Outer Rim[/url]? [/b] The Outer Rim (TOR) is a Star Wars total conversion mod for Blade & Sorcery which adds a humongous amount of content. There are 100+ lightsabers along with many blasters and other items to boot. The mod also includes custom maps, an optional player home, custom NPCs, and arena waves. It’s actively being developed and still has plenty of content planned and yet to be released. It is without a doubt, the largest mod available for the game with a focus on attention to detail.  If you like Star Wars, get it. If you don’t like Star Wars, try it out anyway. If you don’t have the game but have a VR setup, get the game then try this mod. It’s worth it. If you don’t have a VR setup, sorry - play it at a friend’s place? [b]The Outer Rim has been a huge success. When you initially started working on it did you imagine it would be as popular as it is?  [/b] It was pretty evident on the Blade & Sorcery Discord server that [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/528]The Outer Rim[/url] was going to be a big hit when it eventually came out. The prototype weapons I released when I was still learning the SDK and Unity, [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/280]Lightsabers U6[/url] and [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/bladeandsorcery/mods/246]E-11 Blaster Rifle[/url], were a hint of what was to come. Those mods were largely successful on their own, given that the innovation and quality of scripted weapons were not like what we have today bar a few exceptions, notably MulleDK19’s Mjolnir among others. What I didn’t expect was for my peers in real life to recognise the mod and realise I was the creator, or how wide of a reach it would have - driven by gameplay footage uploaded to sites such as Reddit. It’s pretty surreal to see yourself directly influencing your own Youtube feed when Youtubers decide to play ‘that Star Wars VR mod’. [b]Do you work alone on the project or do you collaborate with other authors? [/b] I primarily work alone on the project. There’s something cathartic in knowing that if something in the mod doesn’t meet my expectations I only have myself to blame, improve, and resolve. It’s not difficult to manage large projects such as this with many moving parts, it’s just a very time-consuming process with a large learning curve. I’ve branched out to others who I feel could do a much better job than I, namely 3D modelling and texturing. One long term collaborator of the mod is Plasma, a prominent modder from the Jedi Knight community, who has created models for the majority of the lightsaber hilts among other unreleased items from the next major version. Other authors who have contributed assets to the mod include Sakhado, uiojkl09 (Butters), Vale-X and Spongy. [b]There are a lot of mods made by others that extend The Outer Rim or add new Star Wars related stuff. Do you have any favourites? [/b] I hope I don’t get crucified for this but I haven’t actually played any of the other Star Wars mods so I can’t really answer that question well. In fact, I haven’t really had much time to play the base game as is or even my own mod outside of dev/testing. [b]Now that U8 has been released, are you planning to add any cool new force powers using the magic system?  [/b] Yep, that’s all been planned since the beginning over a year ago - with the intentions of being deeply tied into the skills tree proposed for the future version of the game, U9. There won’t be any force powers in the next major version of the mod, TOR 3, which is focused on blasters, but when I get around to it it’ll be worth it. The big backlog of stuff I have planned is daunting for me to say the least and exciting for anyone else. If you want an idea of what is to come in regards to force powers just play the Jedi Knight and KOTOR series and you’ll know what to expect. [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1597753345-139005324.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1597753352-264767641.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]What is the status of a U8 update for The Outer Rim, I know a whole load of people are waiting on it? [/b] The next major expansion pack for the mod, Clone Reinforcements, is mostly complete in respects to content and features however the magnitude of changes presented by U8 essentially forced me to remake the mod, virtually every file needed to be modified on some level to be made compatible, no stone left unturned. The mod got nuked essentially. There have been many challenges and issues to face with the mod that still exist today directly due to what U8 has given and what it has taken away that prevent the mod from being fully playable or meeting my expectations. I’ve been in contact with the lead developer of the game throughout U8’s release and have been trying to report and resolve issues where possible to expedite the process. I’m hoping U8.4 should be the one to fix it. Ultimately, I don’t know how big of a change U8.4 will be, what it will add, what it will do, how much it’ll break, how much it will solve. But if it turns out to be big, it might set me back a few months, who knows? It’s a big game of “are we there yet?” but the car is misfiring and billowing smoke but the kids in the back just want to get to Disneyland. [b]Do you have any advice for authors who want to create mods for Blade & Sorcery?  [/b] If you have an idea for a mod, just go out and try to make it yourself. Take it as a challenge. Yes it’ll take time, yes you’ll have difficulties, but if you put in the effort you’ll be surprised by what you can achieve and how easy it is to learn and improve. There is a vast amount of tutorials and learning material out there on Unity and modding. Specifically to B&S modding, you can find information and example mods in the [url=https://github.com/KospY/BasSDK]Official SDK[/url] and on the [url=https://discord.gg/Yq4k2S]Blade & Sorcery Discord server[/url] in the #modding-howto and #mod-help sections. [b]Is there anything else you'd like to say to the community? [/b] It’s pretty thrilling to see how the VR community has continued to expand over the last few years as the games have become more compelling and the hardware more affordable. I encourage those with a VR setup to give the game a go, it’s a lot of fun, highly replayable, and a great place to flex those modding muscles. We’re welcoming new modders all the time and you know what they say; the more the merrier. A big thank you to those who have supported my work, whether it be leaving a nice comment, contributing their time to help others, leaving a donation, or who have shared it with their friends and loved ones. It’s a passion project with the intention of sharing good times, good memories, and hopefully inspiring people in one way or another. And also if you are wondering, yes I do read all the messages - I just don’t have the time to reply to everyone. Your comments have not fallen on deaf ears when you share your ideas, criticisms, and compliments. [line] A big thank you to Kingo64 for taking the time to talk to us! If there's an author or mod project you'd like to know more about, send your suggestions to [b][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/64597]BigBizkit[/url][/b] or [b][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/31179975]Pickysaurus[/url][/b].  Published first at One with the Force - Kingo64

[briefbouquetcreatorlove-blog]

How much is Homeowners Insurance in FL on a $150,000 home?

"How much is Homeowners Insurance in FL on a $150,000 home?

I'm a first time home buyer and very curious how much cash I'm going to need before closing a house.

BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://howmuchisinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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im thinking of buying a jeep 1995 or older most likly (YJ, TJ) do they tend to be more or less expensive on insurance then the average car?""

How long will it take to get a auto insurance check?

I was in a car accident june 3rd, I filed the claim the same day.. talked to the guy doing my claim the next day he said state farm would accept 100% fault so I had to send state farm the police report and some other things they needed and they are suppose to send me check. I faxed all the paper work last Tuesday so how long do you think it will take for them to send me a check? I'm just impatient because I have had no car and had to take all this time off work since I can not get a ride to work and a ride to take my childern to daycare and now my work says if I'm not back by next weekend they will fire me. I called the guy doing my claim just to see how long it normally takes but he never called me back. Any ideas? Thanks!""

Question about general car insurance?

I'm doing a Statistics Lab based off car insurance and i'm a little confused. I'm supposed to make a statement to my boss about charging higher or lower car insurance based on the rating the cars get. So, for the larger, and safer the car is, should I tell my boss to RAISE the insurance prices, or lower the insurance prices? I'm a little confused on the correct way to do it? Safer = Higher insurance or lower insurace? and WHY?!?!?""

How can I get cheap car insurance as an 18 year old in the SE UK?

I can't seem to get anything less than 3000

How long is a insurance company required to give before they cancel your insurance?

My insurance called me yesterday and informed me that they would be cancelling my insurance because I have rented my house to a group of students. They gave me two weeks to find new insurance before they cut me off. I'm having trouble finding someone who will insure us. If they cut my insurance, my bank will cancel my mortgage, and I guess that means I'd lose the house. Is this insurance company allowed to drop me in this manner. When we got the insurance two months ago there was nobody living in the house, but it was rental insurance. We never lied or anything, we were completely honest through the whole process.""

What is the positive & negetive aspect of Term insurance?

Why insurance agent do not show interest towards term insurance. Why they insist on ULIP only.

Can i switch car insurance from one car to another?

i have a car with car insurance on it, but i am going to buy another car, and i want to take the car insurance off my old car and put it on my new one. is it possible and if so how do i go about doing it?""

Where can I find inexpensive health Insurance for an individual?

Where can I find inexpensive health Insurance for an individual?

How much is Homeowners Insurance in FL on a $150,000 home?

I'm a first time home buyer and very curious how much cash I'm going to need before closing a house.

Insurance for antique muscle cars?

Im 16 and i want an old 72 chevelle or a 71 nova but i dont know how much insurance would cost?

How much is full coverage insurance for 21yr old?

i have 2005 black chevy cavalier ... i'm 21 yrs old ... i own the car, but i'm under my parents' insurance right now. i hear that when you own your own car & get your own insurance you have to get full coverage insurance....so if i get full coverage, about how much a month would it be? i have had no accidents, no tickets..my record is completely clean. i've had my car since nov.2004 , i'm the 1st/only owner.no co-signers, i bought the car brand new.(if thats even important) also, what insurance companies do you recommend?""

Car Insurance decrease or increase?

I'm purchasing a 2012 Toyota Aygo within the coming weeks but I cannot be quoted on the insurance as the 2012 registration plates have not yet come up on the database of the insurance company I would like to go with. I have had a quote for 'nearly' the exact car but a 2011 version. Does anybody have a rough idea if the insurance is likely to increase or decrease with it being a 2012 model? Thanks :)

Car insurance for 2004 Mustang?

I'm looking at a silver 2004 Mustang with a manual transmission. I'm a 17 year old boy and my insurance is State Farm. About how much will my insurance be? Also, how much will registration and licensing cost?""

Teenage insurance discounts help!?

Is there a difference between the discounts for insurance for someone who has an a average compared to someone who has a b average?

""For insurance, will a total loss raise my future insurance rates more than a repair? Any idea by how much?""

I filed a claim on my motorcycle, I have read you can do some negotiation in terms of if your bike is considered a total loss versus just needing repair -- EG telling them that certain damage is inconsequential towards the vehicle's safety and it's something you don't care about -- like maybe one small scratch on an otherwise fine fairing, or by getting your own estimates from shops to contest their estimates. I was just wondering what the longer term consequences on my insurance rates might be for it being repaired or considered a total loss.""

How much of your pay check would you take out for Health insurance?

this is my first job that offers health benefits. I am new to this and having problems deciding if i need to get it or not. My company is offering both HMO and PPO for about the same price. Both cost around 70 per check, but i only make around 850. That is almost 10%. Should i shop around or should i just go ahead and get it or not have insurance at all. I dont even like going to the doctors but i would like to have health insurance just in case. My deductible for ppo is 500. I dont even know what that means. any advice would be helpful. thank you""

Anyone know the best company to go to for life insurance?

Anyone know the best company to go to for life insurance?

The general car insurance ? is there a catch ?

I feel like there's a catch . No personal info required and its 39 bucks . Is there a catch ? Or just a bad car insurance

Can i drive my parent's car without insurance having my name on the policy?

Can i drive a parent's car without insurance? like they have their car insured and in 17 and i just got my license so can i used their car with their permission? my dad says that i would have to be added to the policy and they would have to pay extra for it..... but i remember my dad letting my uncle and a few other ppl drive the car like not all the time but a few times ? so if they could why cant i?! I LIVE IN CA

Can I get temporary car insurance for 3 to 5 days?

I'm not currenty insured because i go to San Francisco state and dont need a car, im going to florida for thanksgiving and ive got my old car out there, but my parents wont let me drive it unless im insured..""

If you pay your car insurance for the whole year but sell that car with in the year?

ok so if you brought car insurance for a whole year and then sold the car 5 months later can you get the rest of the money back from the insurance for the other 5 months you don't need the insurance.

Why is health care so expensive?

All this talk about health care lately and no one seems to be asking the obvious question - *why* does it cost a ridiculous amount? People blame the insurance carriers, who I think ...show more""

How much does it cost for a 28 year old man for car insurance?

How much does it cost for a 28 year old man for car insurance?

Cheapest car insurance in uk?

Cheapest car insurance in uk?

Vehicle hit while parked will insurance rate go up????

I get a call from my girlfriend that on the way to the train she saw my car was smashed -Bumper , fender , Headlight need to be replaced The car was parked at the time. Gessing this would be considered a hit and run?Wll insurance rates go up if i put in a claim?????""

How much would it honestly cost me for a Kawasaki Ninja 250 '08?

Im 16 getting a permit very soon, working at a summer job and when the summer is over, going to work at a local pet store or grocery store (part time because of school, so ill be getting minimum wage..) By the end of the summer, i will have about 1,300. As you can see, im looking at a ninja '08 but of course thats not set in stone because i am only 16. But I am really dedicated to have the time for it and I am trying to get the money now. My dad said he will probably put me on his insurance, but since it is a motorcycle and I am young, I'm not sure how much the insurance is... Also, I have read 10,000 people say the Ninja 250 is a really good beginner bike, so if anything i would buy a used one. How much would the used bike, insurance, equitment (helmet, etc), and locks for the bike cost in total? Thxx a lot""

Is the acura rsx a cheap car to insure for 16yr old?

Is the acura rsx a cheap car to insure?

Ridiculously high car insurance quotes?

My renewal quote from Admiral was 1,300 and shopping around most were higher. Best I got was just over 700 with Allianz. I own a 2,500 10-year-old Rover 75. Everyone I ask pays about 200 - 300 whether old or newer cars, powerful and sporty or economical family cars. My brother, 2 years younger who has points on his licence and owns a 3L BMW pays about 250. I tried my details with his postcode out of interest on the Allianz site and my quote was 300 more (over 1,000) than with my own postcode. Why is this and how can I get my quotes down?""

I just passed my driving test but the insurance quotes i am getting for 1.0-1.2 engines are around 7000?

Where ever i look on the internet, whatever car i choose which is say around 4-6 years old with 1.0-1.2 engines the insurance quotes are around 7000 - 8000 i entered all my details correctly, i've held my license for a month. I do not understand why this is happening. Help Thanks""

Can I move to nevada and keep California auto insurance for 6 months?

I am considering moving to las vegas area and would like to know how long I can live there and keep my CA drivers license, CA registration, and CA auto insurance.""

How much does your motorcycle's insurance rise when your bike has been stolen?

I'm asking this question for a friend who had some filthy chavs take his bike last weekend. It was a Yamaha XVS125 dragstar, so his insurance would have been quite cheap anyway but I was wondering how much more he will have to pay when he gets a new bike. Ideally if this has happened to you can you tell me ... how much your insurance was before (and if your license had points etc) and how much it was when you got a new bike. Thx""

""Insurance question, 20pts for the best answer?""

Think about your life, home, automobiles and possessions. What type of risks/accidents can happen to each of these? What type of insurance would you recommend to protect against each of these risks.""

What is the likely cost for the car insurance for this individual?

Kept getting different numbers... 19 years male. own an Acura cl 3.0 1999 single drive to school about 4 miles(one way) three days a week clean record.

""If u wrote-off a $5000 car, on average how much would ur insurance company give you back?""

If u wrote-off a $5000 car, on average how much would ur insurance company give you back?""

How much is Homeowners Insurance in FL on a $150,000 home?

I'm a first time home buyer and very curious how much cash I'm going to need before closing a house.

Answers to life insurance test?

answers to life insurance & applications test

Insurance - length of driving discounts?

So I have been driving for 3 years now (starting a couple days ago). I have allstate car insurance. I am listed as a 4 principal driver licensed 2 years and 6 months, but less than 3 years and I just called to be updated to a 0 principal driver licensed over 3 years . Will I be saving a hefty more on my car insurance? I am currently paying a premium of $776.50 every 6 months. That includes a good student discount. I am still only 19, but I will have been licensed for 3 years. Will this give me a good discount? And how much do you think it will decrease?""

Does a veterinarian get life insuranced?

does a veterinarian get health insurance?

What is the average insurance cost for a 04 lexus rx 330?

What is the average insurance cost for a 04 lexus rx 330?

Car insurance claim but no MOT?

my partner had a crash today and it was totally the other persons fault as my parter was indicating to turn right and some idiot tried to overtake him on the right , hitting his side. the police said not probs its totally the other persons fault and we claim off his insurance not ours but when the police checked the car they discoved the mot ran out a month ago, my partner explained we though we had updated it and they were fine about , prob believed us as we had tax and insurance, they dont worry just tell your insurance about the crash. i know car insurance is not vaild but surely its okay if its only the other person paying out? car in the garage and does not seem to be any probs so far......do you think we will be ok, it really was a genuine over sight""

Is it worth taking a risk of driving without Insurance..?

I'm looking for insurance but it's too expensive.. so i don't drive much. but sometimes i want to make quick local runs like going to the supermarket, picking up a friend etc. is it worth taking this risk without an insurance ??""

Need help with insurance quotes?

Can anyone give me an estimate on insurance for these particular cars. I work during the day so its a little difficult to call around to insurance companies for quotes. I am over 25, clean driving record, will be buying one these cars with cash, lives in florida. Thanks""

Car insurance? Can i move my points?

How long after i cancel my current insurance can i use my no claims bonus on another insurance policy?? Im with gladiator with van insurance but getting rid of the van and getting a car on friday so am wanting to cancel my van insurance tonight and get car insurance friday so will want to be shifting my no claims over... Can i do this?

Dented vehicle? How much more is no deductible auto insurance?

some time ago I dented my car as a result of backing into a pole and I have never gotten it fixed because I cant afford the deductible and I have been with the same insurance company since that time so is it ok to just change to a no deductible insurance policy and than maybe report it and have it fixed-I'm not trying to be dishonest-Im sure I would be just paying the difference for having no deductable monthly. Also, is there even a time limit to report an accident? I dont even know the exact date, but I was with the same insurance company""

Car insurance question?

My fiances insurance is OUTRAGEOUS on a truck he has liability only on ..due to his driving history. He's paying $300 a month (for liability ONLY now) ..my insurance on my car, for full coverage is not even a fraction of that a month, even though my cars value is at least $10,000 more than his. My question is can we put his truck in my name and I'll go to an insurance company and get liability only on and list myself as the only driver. We are expecting a baby and I'm sick of us throwing away that much money a month for CAR INSURANCE! Is this illegal? I mean if I'M the owner and I'VE insured it what can happen if he wrecks or something while driving it and is not listed on my policy? We live in Georgia if that's relevant!""

I need advice on car insurance?

what would be a really really cheap car to insure? i just need liability insurance. i need a car or truck but im worried about how much it will cost to insure. any advice on really cheap insurance on any certain car would be greatly appreciated. if you also know any car insurance providers that offer low rates i would like to know that as well. thank you

How can someone get health care if insurance denies them?

My mom was seeing a psychiatrist and on lots of meds a few years ago. She since lost her job and kaiser and all the insurance companies won't cover her. She's been sick for two weeks and had to go to the emergency room yesterday. She can't afford to get care without insurance and I'm really worried about her, she's throwing up and passing out with a fever and all the emergency room gave her were antibiotics and said it might be a kidney infection. I told her to go to Mexico to find an affordable doctor but she can't even get out of bed. Any suggestions? I'm thinking of taking next semester off and giving her my student loan as a last resort.""

Would my car be an insurance write off?

my automatic gearbox has gone on my car and cost of repair is 4000 supplied and fitted this is more than the cost of the car please help

Do you think i could get a used car and insurance with under $3k?

i really need a car to get around, i have full time job, n part-time student. It's getting to my nerves that whenever i need to go somewhere, i have to ask my brother or sister to take me. Yes i am a student 18 yo, i don't have much money, and my parents refuse to buy me a car, reason because my mom said insurance is too expensive, and she doesn't give a shitt about me. Do you think i could get it anywhere? i was thinking about buying the car 1st then insurance later on because i can't afford it. idk what should i do?""

Insurance change? Nissan 350z to Pontiac GTO?

Alright, Well I have a 2005 Nissan 350z 35TH Anniversary edition, And I am going to trade it in on an 05 Pontiac GTO. What would the changes in my insurance be you think?""

""Ok Insurance battle, old and new insurances?""

I had High Mark blue cross blue shield with my mom and i got married to my husband and got tricare. Tricare is saying they wont pay anything when i had another Insurance. If my old insurance wont pay does tricare have too? My old insurance is now gone, also""

Where to buy affordable health insurance?

I was forced to retire at the age of 64. I am not eligible for medicare until Sep of 2011. Looking for health insurane I can buy now

Do all motorcycles have to have insurance? Can it have a legit title/registed but no insurance?

Also, How much do u think it would cost for a 18 year old, with Riders safer course certificate, 600cc sportsbike(kawasaki zzr600), in new york state? would it be cheaper to just get a car?""

Whats the insurance price for an accord?

Whats the insurance price for an accord?

What is the best company for Maternity Health insurance?

I'm not looking to go on medicaid, I don't want to use taxpayers money if I can afford a reasonable individual health insurance plan. I am very early on in pregnancy and would like to know if anyone knows of a good plan with reasonable rates. I would appreciate it if you had details (plan names). We can afford a deductible of around $4000 or less.""

How much will my insurance go up in Georgia?

ok so i recently got a ticket for going 45 in a 25 in georgia i am 19 years old and i am living with my parents and i am on my parents insurance. i am insured on 4 cars full coverage 2005 dodge ram 2010 lexus hs250 a 2005 ford expedition and a 2011 ford mustang v6 this is my first ticket i have ever gotten that has given me points any help would be great thanks

""I have a NJ DUI, How much will my insurance go up?""

I got a dui in NJ, no accident involved, how much will my insurance go up per month, if i pay 168 per month now? I would like some personal examples, etc.""

Did you know 62 percent of American bankruptcies are linked to medical bills. 78% of which had insurance?

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/30/opinion/30kristof.html?em Found the stat in this article and was shocked. Let me know what your opinion on the stat and article. And as always, please be respectful whether you agree or disagree. Thanks!""

Insurance question?

What is better on insurance if you have a spotless record: 2007 PT Cruiser Touring Edition 2006 Toyota Corolla LE Thanks in advance!

How much do you pay for your car + car insurance?

I pay around $300 for both the car (2001 Hyundai sonata) and the insurance, but me and my husband are having our second child and we know that we need something bigger but cannot find an suv for less than $300, then we still have to pay for insurance. Is anyone out there that pays less than that for a good suv? Thanks for the help""

How much is Homeowners Insurance in FL on a $150,000 home?

I'm a first time home buyer and very curious how much cash I'm going to need before closing a house.

Can you have insurance in two state?

I am a resident of California but moved to Washington for school. I need a car to get around and being the typical college, I'm trying to cut down on expenses. I was wondering if I got a car here in WA could I just add the car into my mom's car insurance policy in CA or would I have to pay for my own car insurance here in WA? Also would it be cheaper and better if I bought a car in CA then just have it shipped to WA? That way it'll have a CA license plate. Please help and let me know. Thank you.""

How much has disability insurance rates increased in the last 5 years? 10 years?

I am 30 years old female trying to decide whether I can afford disability insurance with the noncancelable.

What is an insurance recovery vehicle?

I am looking at buying a car and one dealership offers insurance recovery vehicles for pretty cheap. I think that they they have been recovered after theft but I'm not really sure. Are they like salvaged vehicles and what problems could be found with buying an insurace recovery car? Have you had any experience with buying one? any knowledge would be appreciated.

Car Insurance Payments?

Is the car insurance still in act even if I don't pay for it on the day the payment is due, or does the insurance stop and resume until I pay for it? And, if I don't pay the car insurance on time, will they charge me until I pay them?""

Insurance on a 2004 Infiniti G35 Coupe?

I am 17 and thinking of buying a G35 coupe in September (will be 18) for school. I was wondering how much the insurance would be, this will be my first car and I've never got a speeding ticket before or been in a crash.""

Can you still get bundle insurance with a DWI?

I just like to know if it is possible to get a bundle insurance and the discount with a DWI? My family has a bundle policy for both car and house. Recently, my auto insurance was ...show more""

I need to health insurance but i got laid off work...?

I understand that i need health insurance. Cuz face it, you never know when it's necessary. I've been looking for a job since I got laid off in March. Cobra turned out to be too expensive. What are some low cost health insurances that are good? Since i'm low on cash i dont wanna throw money into a bad insurance company. Are there any programs in California that can assist me? At least until i can find a job.""

How much do you think it would cost for a 20yr old to insure a toyota yaris?

Ok so I have my heart set on owning a Toyota yaris. I want a new ish car, I'm thinking of a 59 plate which would probably cost me around 6700, which I'm willing to spend. However I'm really confused by the insurance. In my head I anticipate that the insurance would cost me anywhere upto 2000 with me only being 20. But I went on a price comparison website and entered my details as accurately as possibly and it quoted me the lowest comprehensive cover price of about 500. I only want a 1.0 litre engine Toyota and I know that its in insurance group 2 or 3, but surely the insurance would be far more than that?! How much do you think it would cost to insure. I passed my test 3years ago and have been on my parents insurance since!""

""Can I buy a car under my name, and put it under my parents insurance policy?""

Ive been looking into purchasing a new vehicle, Im 18 and fresh out of high school and my car is okay, but its just a money pit. I want to put the car under my name to get a better intrest rate, but i cant afford paying expensive insurance policy. So can i purchase the car in my name and put it under my parents insurance policy?""

Do you need insurance for permit in ca?

I am going to get my provisional driver license in california. Do i need to get it before i take the drive test? aM i covered under parents policy? How long do i have to have my insurance before im eligible to get my driver license?

Will I be able to find car insurance for a '68 Ford Mustang?

I am planning on going through AAA. But I'm wondering if they will insure a car that is more than 40 years old? Will it be more or less expensive than it would be to insure a regular car? Has anyone had experience with insurance for a car more than 20-30 years old before??

Should i have to pay for my moms car insurance?

Now i am 18 and just graduated high school and i still live with my mom. She says since i have a drivers license and i live in her house her car insurance goes up and because of it she wants me to pay her like $150 every few weeks or something. Now its her car and i dont see why im having to pay anything i never hear from other people or my friends about their parents car insurance going up and them having to pay anything. So do you guys think i should have to pay for my moms car insurance or is she just making that up to bum money off me cause shes cheap like that and always wants money from me.

I got car insurance and it allows me to drive other peoples cars on my insurance?

if i were to buy another car, 2nd car will i be able to drive that without registering to any insruance company? i wont be selling my 1st car, it will still have the insruance, and the insruance it has allows me to drive other cars, but im not sure if the other cars also need insurance from a company""

Unemployment insurance in california?

Last year I was unemployed. To make a long story short, i took a job and was there for less than 2 weeks. I was forced to pray, and listen to scripture that was muslim. I am very understanding in all religions, but do not practice myself. I was very uncomfortable and left. EDD decided that i left without cause and that i did not deserve insurance. they made me pay back what they paid me and 30% more. I did so even though I didn't agree. Now that I am laid off again, I filled out a claim and got a response saying that I was eligible, and they gave me the forms to fill out for the first two weeks, the standard claim forn. I filled it out, and now got back letters saying that i am not eligible for benefits until i have filed a claim for each of the 5 weeks in which i am otherwise eligible for benefits. I haven't received new claim forms. I am assuming that I will get these, and I will fill them out for 5 weeks, and then they will pay me? So I am looking for clarification, after claiming 5 weeks they will give me my benefits? Thanks for your help, to anyone that has gone through this. It is so unfair! I paid them so much, for something I felt I was justified doing, and now I am still being punished! I would rather be working and not have to worry about this, but it is so hard to find a job :( not a great holiday.""

Motorbike Insurance 600cc ~ 1000cc?

Iam 24 years old ( will do the bike test later this year ) I would just like a rough figure on what would it cost the insurance for these bikes. CB 600 hornet HONDA CBR 1000 KAWASAKI Z1000 KAWASAKI ER 650 YAMAHA R1 YAMAHA R6 Iam asking because iam abroad and i cant do the quotes else i would not loose time asking If someone could be kind enough to help out just with a near figure iwould gladly apreciate the help.

""How much does American spend on average on car monthy payments, insurance, gas, and maintenance each year?""

How much does American spend on average on car monthy payments, insurance, gas, and maintenance each year?""

Would it be the cheapest sports car?

I saw the 4 cheapes sports cars for insurance a mazda mx 5 and a pontiac solstice would they be the cheapest sports car for insurance for a 16 year old or what sports car would be the cheapest to insure for a teen I know for a teen with a sports car would not be cheap we have the money but what sports car would be the cheapes for a teen

Insurance costs for new driver in canada?

I just got my g2 and im wondering how much will insurance be for a new male driver on their own vehicle, with no collision coverage? I know it varies!!! So just give me like a general answer... BY THE WAY I UNDERSTAND THERES WEBSITES THAT WILL GIVE YOU A QUOTE! I TRIED THESE AND THEY DONT WORK! SO DONT BOTHER TELLING ME TO LOOK AT A WEBSITE LIKE THAT!! theres still going to be a wise guy who does thou...""

What good is affordable health care when more...?

people are out of work then there are people without health insurance?

Good/Cheap Secondary Health Insurance in Texas?

My grandmother is 65 but my grandfather is only 63 so he's not considered a S.C. yet ... what is good affordable secondary health insurance for them? They currently only have Medicare

How much does your health insurance cost per month?

I'm not trying to be nosy. Ax on another question stated his is $60 a month. Mine is a little over $100 a week. Does that seem high?

Uninsured Motorcycle Driver Question?

Recently a friend of mine wanted to purchase a motorcycle that he found a super great deal on. Because his credit is very average he asked me to purchase the cycle and he would make me payments plus interest. I agreed and took out a loan for the bike. However a few weeks later he decided it would be ok to take the bike out for a spin UNINSURED. He had a run in with several trick or treaters and their parents. Since it was an unlit road, they were in the middle, and he was going under the speed limit. The cops ruled it not his fault. However now two insurance companies are coming after me to subrogate the liabilities. Since he was the driver but I am the owner. What are my rights? Can they still blame him? Am I liable?""

What are some cheap health insurance plans for a college student?

Hello, I live in Texas and I am in my first semester in community college. They do not offer insurance at my school. I do work part time, but I do not plan on staying at this job for long. I don't want to get on my parents insurance, because I simply don't want them to know any of my personal business. Any advice? I am 22 by the way. Any answers are appreciated. Thank you!""

""How cheap can car insurance go, and how long does it take to reach it's cheapest, how much do you pay?""

How cheap can car insurance go, and how long does it take to reach it's cheapest, how much do you pay?""

What do I need to add to my auto insurance policy to be considered full coverage.?

I have a car with Calif min. pl and pd. If I were to add a new car what additional coverage and how much would be considered full coverage and satisfy the finance company?

How much is Homeowners Insurance in FL on a $150,000 home?

I'm a first time home buyer and very curious how much cash I'm going to need before closing a house.

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/insurance-tommy-espinosa"

[iyarpage]

Droidcon Boston 2018 Conference Report

There are many awesome Android conferences that occur throughout the year. The Droidcon series of conferences are some of my favorites. The high quality of the presentations is consistently impressive, and for those that can’t be there in person, the conference videos are posted online soon after the events.

Droidcons occur throughout the year in Berlin, San Francisco, New York, and many other cities. In April 2017, Droidcon Boston held it’s first annual conference. I’ve had the opportunity to attend both Droidcon Boston 2017 and this year’s event, which was held just these past two days March 26-27, 2018.

This year’s Droidcon Boston was packed with attendees and excitement. Most of the sessions I attended were using Kotlin in their code examples. There were talks that were architecture focused, some doing deep dives into tools like ProGuard and Gradle, and others discussing newer technologies such as ARCore, TensorFlow, and coroutines.

In this article, I’ll give you highlights and summaries of the sessions I was able to attend. There were many other conflicting sessions and workshops I wanted to attend that aren’t included in this report, but luckily we should be able to check them all out online soon.

We’ll update this post with a link to the conference videos once they’re available.

Day 1

Community Addiction: The 2nd Edition

The conference was kicked off with an introduction by organizers Giorgio Natili, Software Development Manager at Amazon, Eliza Camberogiannis, Android Developer at Pixplicity, and Garima Jain, Senior Android Engineer at Fueled. They call themselves the EGG team, Eliza, Garima, Giorgio! :]

The introduction detailed the conference info: 2 tracks with 25 talks and 6 workshops, lightning talks at lunchtime, and a Facebook happy hour followed by the official party.

The organizers discussed the following principles of the conference: good people; diversity; cool stuff including Kotlin, Gradle, and ML; respect; trust; love; integrity; and, being together.

Giorgio ended the introduction with a quote:

Keep calm, learn all the things, and have fun at Droidcon Boston 2018.

Keynote: Tips for Library Development from a Startup Developer

Lisa Wray, Android Developer, GDE, Present

Lisa’s talk was all about the why, when, and how of writing libraries. It was her “Boston edition” and presented in the style of XKCD. :]

Lisa started off with a great question: why write open-source libraries for free on the Internet? She made the case that writing libraries not only benefits the community, but is really in your own self-interest, and proved the point with a cool self-interest Venn diagram. She explained that writing a library is like joining a startup, just without all the money, but that you can benefit in unexpected ways. You often get community input-other people writing code for you for free. Sometimes you write a library out of bare necessity, or sometimes just to learn something new in a sandbox.

The next question then becomes: so you want to write a library, how do you go about doing so? Lisa explained that you want to start small in accordance with Parkinsons Law of work expanding to fill all available time. Try to focus first on a single use case. Try not to use the word “and” when explaining what the library does. Using the library should be just a couple lines of code, just add a Gradle dependency and a dead simple example.

Lisa wrapped up her session with a great list of principles to follow as you develop and release the library. Be your own user and dogfood your library, because if it’s not good enough for you, it’s not good enough for others. Be honest about the library scope and size. Use semantic versioning, and use alpha and beta releases to get feedback. Don’t advertise your library all over the place, e.g. in Stack Overflow answers; let users find it on their own. Be sure to include sufficient testing and continuous integration, which will greatly help you know whether to accept pull requests when you receive them.

Lisa wrapped up her session with some things to watch out for. Determine ownership for the work you do building a library while employed at big, medium, and small companies. Be ready to get some competition. And also realize that you’re library may eventually get deprecated by the Android SDK taking over the features.

I really loved Lisa’s last few points. She pointed out that no library is too small. Writing them is a great way to practice your craft. Look inside your app for boilerplate code, utilities or extensions. The community will thank you for a well-focused library.

Pragmatic Gradle for Your Multi-Module Projects

Clive Lee, Android Developer, Ovia Health

Gradle is the powerful build tool we use to make Android apps, but not everyone has mastered all it’s intracacies, especially for multi-module products. Clive’s talked aimed at giving you pragmatic tips to help get you to Gradle mastery.

Clive started by defining some terminology, like the root project and it’s build.gradle file and dependency coordinates. He then explained that you need to keep Gradle code clean because, well, it’s code. He also discussed why you may want to use multiple modules, because you can then use the tools to enforce dependencies and clean architecture layers. You also end up with faster builds thanks to compilation avoidance and caching. And loading multi-module projects into Android Studio is getting faster.

Next, Clive walked through his set of tips. The first were about using parallel execution and caching, via adding org.grade.parallel=true and org.grade.caching=true to your gradle.properties file. He recommends the android-cache-fix-gradle-plugin tool. He pointed out that the project must be modularized for parallel Gradle execution to occur.

When using multiple modules, you don’t want dependency version numbers in multiple places. You need a better way. Clive discussed techniques progressing from putting the version numbers in the project-level build.gradle, to putting the entire dependency coordinate in the project-level build.gradle, to using a separate versions.gradle file, and finally, using a Java file to hold the coordinates, which gives you both code navigation and completion for the dependencies. Clive also mentioned using the Kotlin-Gradle DSL and that you can also store other constants like your minSdkVersion using these various techniques.

Clive then walked through how to get organized with your gradle files. Put build.gradle files in a directory. Use settings.gradle to add the name of the directory, and you can then access it easily in the Android Studio Project panel. Another great help is to rename each module’s build.gradle file to correspond to the module name, since it makes navigating and searching easier. You need to set buildFileName on the rootProject subProjects. It’s well worth 5 minutes of time. You can use a bash script for renaming, and be sure to do the renaming for any new modules you add to the project.

The end of the talk discussed pitfalls you may run into. Avoid using a “core” module for common dependencies, since it enlarges the surface between modules. The result is slower builds. Use a shared Gradle file instead. Also, proceed with caution when using nested modules, which, while they may make navigating easier, lead to a slower reload when switching branches. Also, they do not show up in the Project panel in Android Studio.

Lunch & a Lightning Talk: Background Processing

Karl Becker, Co-Founder / CTO, Third Iron

One really fun part of Droidcon Boston is hearing some talks during lunch. On the first day, Karl Becker gave some lessons learned adding notifications and background processing to an app.

Some key considerations are: platform differences, battery optimizations, notification specific issues, and targeting the latest APIs. You also need to avoid skewing your metrics, since running the app in the background may increase you analytics session count. Determine what your analytics library does specifically, and consider sending foreground and background to different buckets.

Once they rolled out the updated app with notifications, Karl and his team saw that Android notifications get tapped on 3 times as much as in their iOS app. He pointed out that even higher multiples are seen in articles online. Some possible reasons are: notifications are just a lot easier to get to on Android, and they go away quickly on iOS.

Key takeaways from Karl were: background processing is easy to implement, but hard to test. Schedule 2x time for testing. Support SDK 21 or newer if possible. Don’t expect background events to happen at specific times. And, notifications will be more impactful on Android than on iOS.

Practical Kotlin with a Disco Ball

Nicholas DiPatri, Principal Engineer, Comcast Corporation

In one of the first sessions after lunch on Day 1, Nicholas gave a great walkthrough of Kotlin from a Java developers perspective, and used a disco ball with some Bee Gees music to do so! He’s built an app named RoboButton in Kotlin, that uses bluetooth beacons to control nearby things with your phone, such as the aforementioned disco ball. :]

The first question answered was: what is Kotlin? It’s a new language from JetBrains that compiles to bytecode for the JVM, so it’s identical to Java at the bytecode level.

Next question: why use it? It’s way better than Java, fully supported by Google on Android, and Android leaders in the community use it. The only real risks with moving to Kotlin are the learning curve of a new language, and that the auto-converter in Android Studio from Java to Kotlin is imperfect.

Nicholas then gave a summary of syntactic Kotlin. You have mutable properties using var, which you can re-assign. The properties have synthesized accessors when being using from Java. You create a read-only property with val. It’s wrong to call a val immutable, it just can’t be re-assigned. Kotlin has type inference and compile-time null checking that help you avoid runtime null pointer exceptions. There are safety and “Elvis” operators and smart casts for use with nullable values. For object construction and initialization, you can combine the class declaration and constructor in one line. You can have named arguments, and an init block is used to contain initialization code. There is a subtle distinction between property and field in Kotlin: fields hold state, whereas properties expose state. Kotlin provides backing fields to properties.

Great places to begin learning Kotlin? The great documentation at kotlinlang.org, including a searchable language reference. The Kotlin style guide from Jake Wharton. And the online sandbox.

Nicholas pointed out that when moving to Kotlin, large legacy projects will be hybrid Java-Kotlin projects. Legacy Java can remain. New features can be written in Kotlin. Small projects can be completely converted, such as Nicholas converting the RoboButton project. You can use Code > Convert Java File to Kotlin File in Android Studio, but there is one bad thing: revision history is lost. Also, you may get some compile errors after the conversion, so you may need to sweep through and fix them.

Nicholas wrapped up his talk by discussing idiomatic Kotlin. When using Dagger for Dependency Injection, inject in the init block and fix any compile errors using lateinit. Perfom view injection using the Kotlin Android extensions. Use decompilation to get a better understanding of what Kotlin code is doing: create bytecode and then decompile to Java. Nicholas showed an example of discovering that Kotlin view extension uses a cached findViewById(). Use extension functions, which allow you to make local changes to a 3rd party API.

TensorFlow for Android Developers

Joe Birch, Senior Android Engineer, GDE, Buffer

Like many developers, Joe Birch likes to explore new things that come out. Such was the case with Joe for TensorFlow, when a friend gave him a book on the topic. He was a little scared at first, but it turned out to be not so bad. His talk was not a deep dive into machine learning, but instead was showing how to use existing machine learning models in apps and how to re-train them. Joe used the TensorFlow library itself with Python on his dev machine for the retraining, and the TensorFlow Mobile library to use the re-trained model on a device.

Joe started with some machine learning 101: getting data, clean prep & manipulate, training a model based on patterns in the data, then improve. Joe discussed the differences between unsupervised learning and supervised learning, and then described the supervised learning topics of classification and regression. Some machine learning applications are photo search, smart replies in Gmail, Google Translate, and others like YouTube video recommendations.

Then Joe began a dive into TensorFlow. It’s open-source from Google, and they use it in their own applications. You use it to create a computational graph, a collection of nodes that all perform operations and compute values until the end predicted result. They’re also known as neural networks, a model that can learn but that needs to be taught first. The result of the training is a model that can be exported, then used and re-trained.

For the rest of talk, Joe detailed his re-training of an open source model that classifies images to specifically recognize images of fruit, and then the use of the re-trained model in a sample app that lets you add the recognized fruit to a shopping cart.

Joe walked through the use of the web-based TensorBoard suite of visualization tools to see training of your model in action. TensorBoard shows things like accuracy and loss rate. Joe listed all the steps you need to perform to retrain a model and examine the results of the re-training in TensorBoard. He started the re-training with a web site that gave him 500 images of each type of fruit at different angles. To test the re-trained model, you take images outside of the training set and run through the model. As an example, a banana was recognized at 94% probability in a few hundred milliseconds.

Before using the re-trained model, you want to optimize it using a Python script provided by TensorFlow, and also perform quantization via another Python script. Quantization normalizes values to improve compression so that the model file is smaller in your app. Joe achieved around 70% compression, from 50MB to 16MB. You want to check the model after optimization and quantization to make sure accuracy and performance were not impacted too much for your use case.

After re-training, you have a model for use in an app. Add a TensorFlow dependency in the app. You put model files into the app assets folder. Create a TensorFlow reference. Feed in data from a photo or the camera as bitmap pixels, and run inference. Handle confidence of the prediction by setting a threshold.

Workshop: Hands on Android Things

Kaan Mamikoglu, Mobile Software Engineer, MyDrive Solutions

James Coggan, Senior Mobile Engineer, MyDrive Solutions

Pascal How, Mobile Software Engineer, MyDrive Solutions

Of the 6 workshops at Droidcon Boston 2018, I was able to attend the one on Android Things, the IoT version of Android.

The workshop setup attendees with an NXP i.MX7D kit. We flashed Android Things onto the board. The board was attached to a breadboard with a temperature sensor and LEDs. The workshop walked us through creating an app for the device that communcates with Firebase and that, using DialogFlow and Google Assistant, allows you to ask “Hey Google, what’s the temperature at home?”

The workshop was hands-on, and consisted of opening the workshop apps in Android Studio and running through the following steps:

Connecting board to WiFi using an adb command.

Setup Firebase in Android Studio and your project, with Realtime Database support

Open the Firebase console and enable anonymous login

Setup Firebase on the common module

Create a HomeInformation data class with light, temperature and button

Observe changes to HomeInformation in the database using LiveData

Setup Firebase on the Things device

Setup Firebase on the mobile app

You can find more info on the workshop at James’s GitHub.

Day 2

Keynote: Design + Develop + Test

Kelly Shuster, Android Developer, GDE, Ibotta

The second day keynote by Kelly Shuster was about communication between designers, developers, and testers. She pointed out that we often get in weeds as software engineers, solving problems. We need to remember other things in order to build a successful product that people will actually use. It’s a responsibility to get good at effective cross-team communication. Kelly gave a great example of what happens when cross-team communication is missing from when she was a child actor in the Secret Garden and everyone forgot their lines in one scene. A painful experience but a lifelong memory.

Kelly explained the typical flow of app development: design mocks -> development begins -> development finalized. Often have another step with “developer questions”. A big problem is that you start to have a lot of these conversations, and much of the conversation is boilerplate. What if we could remove these boilerplate conversations? She came across a blog post about removing barriers from your life, and thought: what are the barriers to effective communication?

For barriers with designers, Kelly listed a number of tools that can help. Zeplin, which can give you details like sizes, fonts, and font sizes. A designer uploads a Sketch file to Zeplin, which parses out all the details. Another tool is a style guide with the design team, which serves as “boilerplate code completion” for the design world. A good design style guide has a color palette with common names, zero state and loading state designs, and button states. These things cover 80% of boilerplate design discussions right in the style guide.

Kelly then discussed how SVGs can help minimize back and forth with designers, and how a designer she worked with once offered to use Android Studio to learn how to work best with Vector Asset Studio. Conversely, as developers, Kelly pointed out that we often say a lot of negative things to designers. We should instead think about what can we do for them: be a relentless advocate for your designer’s vision (within reason).

Kelly discussed some surveys she’d done, one question being “if I could do one thing to make my product better it would be…” Most answers boiled down to “spend more time testing”. Even from designers and QA. Kelly talked about testing from two perspectives: pre-development and post-development. For pre-development, she suggested tools such as Usability Hub for user testing of designs, and Marvel, which takes pictures of paper designs and turns them into a clickable prototype.

“Post”-develoment testing is really post-design unit testing and integration testing. Kelly gave an anecdote about wanting to learn a song on piano for 5 years and not doing so until committing to practicing 5 minutes a day, and then compared it to how to get good at testing: write at least one test a week. You’ll be able to write tests fast within a few months.

Kelly finished up with results from another survey question: “the hardest part of working with developers is…” The consistent answer: their lack of smoke testing. Kelly gave great advice such as using “Day of the Week” emulators to test across API levels. She’s found many UI bugs by doing this.

fun() Talk

Nate Ebel, Android Developer, Udacity

Nate’s talk was all about exploring Kotlin functions. He pointed out that Kotlin loves functions. You can see it in docs and examples. The standard library is full of functions, including higher-order and extension functions. Functions in Kotlin are flexible and convenient. As Android developers, they give us the freedom to re-imagine how to build apps.

Nate dove into parameter and type freedom. Kotlin allows default parameter values, used when an argument is omitted. They give you overloads without the verbosity of writing them, and documents sensible defaults. For Java interop, you can use @JvmOverloads, which tells the compiler to generate the overloads for you.

You can also use named arguments in Kotlin. Without names, parameter meaning can be confusing without looking at source. Named arguments make it easer to understand. You can also switch the order when using named arguments. There are some limitations, for example, once named, all subsequent arguments must be named.

You can use variable number of arguments using vararg. They are treated as an Array of type T. You can use any number when calling, and they typically but not always will be the last parameter. They do not have to be last if using named arguments or if the last parameter is a function. You can use the spread operator * to pass existing arrays into vararg.

Nate described Kotlin return types. If there is no return value, the default is Unit. You append the return type to the function signature with a : if there is a non-Unit return value. Single-expression functions can infer return type.

Nate then discussed Generic functions, and how much of the standard library is built on generics. You add a generic type after the fun keyword.

Nate then explored how and when to create functions. He discussed top-level functions and how to rename files using @file:JvmName. He gave examples of member functions on a class or object, local functions which are functions inside functions, and companion object functions. He described function variations, such as infix functions, extension functions, and higher-order functions.

Nate finished up by re-imagining Android via the power of Kotlin functions. We can use fewer helper classes and less boilerplate. We can pass logic around for a try-catch block. We have libraries like Anko and Android KTX. We have DSLs like the Kotlin Gradle DSL.

Common Poor Coding Patterns and How to Avoid Them

Alice Yuan, Software Engineer, Pinterest

Alices’s talk focused on a number of problems her team has solved for the Pinterest app. She walked through each problem in detail, and then talked about how they found a solution.

Problem #1. Views with common components. They initially chose inheritance to combine the common components, but that led to many problems in the implementation. The solution: Be deliberate with inheritance and consider composition first.

Problem #2. So many bugs with the “follow” button in the app. They have many fragments, and were using an event bus library as a global event queue. It becomes confusing with more and more events and more fragments. The code looks simple, but it breaks due to different lifecycles and different conditions. Views require tight coupling, but an event bus is de-coupling. Event bus does not make sense for this scenario. Other use cases that are de-coupled make more sense. The solution was to use an Observer pattern. They reintroduced observers into code base. The key takeway was that event bus is often misued due to its simplicity. Only use it where it makes sense.

Problem #3. Do we need to send events to maintain data consistency? Why do we even need to send events? They were caching models on a per Fragment basis, which leads to data inconsistencies across the app. They had model dependent logic in the view layer. There are a lot of different ways to introduce data inconsistency: global static variables, utils class and singletons. The solution: have a central place to handle storing and retrieving of models using the Repository pattern. A repository checks memory and disk cache, and makes network calls if needed for the freshest model. You can also use the Repository pattern with RxJava, kind of like observables on steroids, more than just a simple listener pattern. The key takeway: build a central way to fetch and retrieve models.

Problem #4. Why is writing unit tests so difficult? Laziness. It’s a lot of work to write unit tests. Also, a typical fragment has too much logic, including business logic. You just want to unit test business logic. Things like mocking and Robolectric can be pains to use. The solution: separate concerns using a pattern like MVVM or MVP. Now you can communicate between classes without knowing internals. Kelly gave an example using MVP. Loose coupling is preferred here to make business logic more testable. It makes the code way cleaner and understandable and increases re-usability of the codebase. The key takeaway: unit testing is easier when you separate concerns. Consider MVP/MVVM/MVI. Use interfaces to abstract. You can then easily mock interfaces with Mockito.

The overall key takeway from Alice’s talk: have awareness to see if you’re making any of these mistakes.

Lunch & a Lightning Talk: Reactive Architecture

Dan Leonardis, Director of Engineering, Viacom & LEO LLC

The second day’s lunch talk was about Reactive Architecture. Dan chose to give all examples in Java to get maximum impact.

Dan explained that Reactive Architecture is simple but not easy. The goals are to make a system responsive (with background threads), resilient (with error scenarios built-in), elastic (easy to change), and message driven (with well-defined data types). It provides an asynchronous paradigm built on streams of information.

Dan walked though a history lesson on MVC, MVP, and MVVM. MVC was not meant to be a system architecture, but meant to just be for UI. MVP has kind of been killed off, with three nails: Android data binding, Rx, and ViewModel from Android Architecture Components which helps with lifecycle issues and is agnostic to Activity recreation on rotation.

Dan then emphasized how the whole point of reactive architecture is to funnel asynchronous events to update UI. Examples are button clicks, scrolls, and UI filters. Each are events. You flatmap them into specific event types that have data you need from the UI. Use merge to make them one stream. You use actions to translate events for testability using Transformers. See Dan Lew’s blog post.

The basic flow is a UI event -> transformer -> split stream into event types with publish operator in each stream, transform into action -> merge back to one stream -> end up with an observable stream of actions. What’s next is a Result, and you then use transformers to go back to the UI too.

Dan then gave a deep dive into a simple app and walked through code examples to see a Reactive Architecture in action.

ARCore for Android Developers

Kunal Khona, Android | AR Developer, Wayfair

Kunal started with a nice fun virtual version of himself that introduced himself on a projected device. His talk then introduced us to augmented reality, ARCore on Android, and showed some code examples written in C# with Unity.

Pokemon Go is the best example so far of AR affecting the real world. It’s an illusion to add annotations to the real physical world. It let’s you escape the boundaries of a 2D screen. But we’ve been wired for thousands of years to interact with the world in 3D.

Kunal then contrasted VR and AR. VR is virtual environment with virtual experience. AR is real environment with virtual experience. He said that in VR, the screen becomes your world, but in AR the world becomes your screen. AR uses your device as a window into the augmented world. Mobile phones are the most common device available, so you have to do AR on mobile if you want to hit scale.

Kunal gave some history of AR on Android. Tango used a wide-angle camera and a depth sensor. It could use motion tracking, area learning, and depth sensing to map indoor spaces with high accuracy. But it was only supported on a few phones, and Tango is dead as of March 2018.

ARCore replaces Tango. ARCore went to 1.0 stable in February 2018. It works without special hardware, with motion tracking technology using the phone camera to identify interesting points. It tracks the position of the device as it moves and builds an understanding of the real world. It’s scalable across the Android ecosystem, and currently works on a wide range of devices running Android 7.0 and above, about 100 million devices total. More phones will be supported over time. You can even run ARCore apps in the Android emulator in Android Studio 3.1 beta, with a simulated environment.

The fundamental concepts of ARCore are: motion tracking, environmental understanding, and light estimation. Motion tracking creates feature points and uses them to determine change in location. Environmental understanding begins with clusters of feature points that appear to live on common horizontal surfaces and are made available as planes. Light estimation in an environment gives an increased sense of realism by lighting a virtual object under the same conditions as the environment. Kunal showed a great example of a virutal lion getting scared when the lights turn off.

ARCore does have limitations. ARCore does not use a depth sensor. It has difficulty with flat surfaces without texture. And it cannot remember session information once a session is closed.

Kunal discussed using ARCore at Wayfair. How does a consumer know furniture will look good in a room? He showed an awesome demo of placing a couch in a room. A consumer can hit a cart button and purchase the couch. Kunal described many of the possible ARCore applications: shopping, games, education, entertainment, visualizers, and information/news.

The remainder of the talk was a code example using Unity to abstract away complex ARCore and OpenGL concepts. He showed motion tracking, using an ARCore.Session to track attachment points and plane detection, and placing an object with hit testing, transforming a 2D touch to a 3D position. He described using anchors to deal with the changing understanding of the environment even as the device moves around.

Why MVI? Model View Intent — The curious case of yet another pattern

Garima Jain, Senior Android Engineer, Fueled

Garima gave a great talk on the Model-View-Intent (MVI) pattern. There were two parts to the talk: (1) Why MVI and (2) moving from MVP/MVVM to MVI.

First, why MVI? She defined MVI as a mapping from (Model, View, Intent) to (State, View, Intention). And add a user into the picture and MVI becomes different from other patterns. The user interacts with the View, the intent changes state, goes to the view, and is seen by user.

The key concept is State as a single source of truth. A common example of the State problem is: what is going on with state when doing a pull to refresh – the state of a list. The state problem is a main reason people are motivated to follow MVI. First there’s a loading state, then an empty state, then pull to refresh but with the empty state still showing. The View is not updating state correctly.

Garima used an MVP diagram to represent the problem. If you misuse MVP, some of the state is in the view and some is in the presenter. Multiple inputs and outputs cause the possibility of misuses. The MVI pattern helps here. MVI has single source of state truth. This is sometimes called the Hannes model, after Hannes Dorfmann.

Part 2 of the talk discussed moving from MVP/MVVM to MVI. How to move to MVI if you have other patterns already in place. You don’t have to go all the way to MVI right away. Call it “MVPI”. Build on top of MVP or MVVM.

Garima gave a great description of data flow in the MVI pattern. From a UI event in the View, the event gets transformed to an Action sent to the Presenter, then sent to a Reducer as a Result. The reducer creates new state which gets rendered to the View. She discussed applying the pattern to the loading problem. State is an immutable object. You create a new one to show in the view after a user interaction. Now there is only one state, one source of truth for the model. Changes only occur due to actions.

She gave some good rules of thumb. Action should be a plain object that has a type that is not undefined and conveys the intention of the user. State is an immutable list or object representing the state of the view. The Reducer is a function of the previous state and the result. It returns the current state for an unknown result. Use a Kotlin sealed class for the different kinds of results.

In summary, Garima mentioned that many consider that MVI is MVP/MVVM done right. It prevents us from misusing patterns like MVP and MVVM. She also gave some great refrerences:

Coroutines and RxJava: An asynchronicity comparison

Manuel Vicente Vivo, Principal Associate Software Engineer, Capital One

Manual is comparing coroutines and RxJava because they’re both trying to solve the same problem: asynchronous programming.

He started with a coroutines recap, compared the libraries, and demoed a Fibonacci calculator with fun facts from an API.

Coroutines simplify asynchronous programming. Computations can be suspended without blocking a thread. They’re conceptually similar to a thread. They start and finish and but are not bound to a particular thread.

The launch function is a coroutine builder. The first parameter is a coroutine context. It takes a suspending lambda as second parameter. For example, making a network request and updating a database with data. The user taps a button and starts a heavy computation. You suspend while waiting for a response from the network. You carry on with execution when the response comes back.

Manuel then gave a detailed coroutine and RxJava comparison.

He showed how to cancel execution in both. In RxJava, call disposable.dispose(). For coroutines, use the coroutine job which is returned from launch and call job.cancel(). You can concatenate coroutine contexts and can cancel them all at the same time. You can also use a parent named argument and cancel the parent.

Manuel defined Channels as the coroutine equivalent of an RxJava Observable and Reactive Streams Publisher. Channels can be shared between different coroutines, with a default capacity of 1. In RxJava, you get values when onNext is called. You use send and receive to send/receive elements through the channel, and they are suspending functions. You can close channels. And you can also offer elements. produce is another coroutine builder for a coroutine with a Channel built-in. It’s useful to create custom operators.

Channels have to deal with race conditions: which coroutine gets the values first? In RxJava, you use Subjects to handle this issue. BroadcastChannel can be used to send the same value to all coroutines. ConflatedBroadcastChannel behaves similar to an RxJava subject.

What about RxJava back-pressure? It’s handled by default in coroutines, since send and receive are suspending functions.

You can use publish for a “cold observable” behavior, but it’s in the interop library, a bridge between coroutines and RxJava. Another use case would be calling coroutines from Java.

An Actor is a coroutine with a channel built-in, but the opposite of produce. Think of it as a mailbox that will process and receive different events.

For the equivalent of RxJava operators, some are built-in to the language in Kotlin collections. Some others are easy to implement. And some are more work, such as zip.

For threading in RxJava, you use observeOn and subscribeOn. Threading in coroutines is done within the coroutine context. CommonPool, UI (Android), and Unconfined are examples of contexts. You can create your own contexts using ThreadPoolDispatcher.

Manuel finished up with his example application, a math app built with the MVI Architecture. He has three projects: one using coroutines, one using RxJava, and one with interop between the two.

The project uses the Android Architecture Component ViewModel to survive configuration changes, and can be found on GitHub.

Where to go from here?

You can find more info about the Droidcon series of conferences at the official site.

The full agenda for Droidcon Boston 2018, including sessions not covered in this report, can be found here.

The videos from the most recent Droidcon NYC can be found here.

The videos and slides from Droidcon Boston 2017 are here.

We’ll add a link to the videos from Droidcon Boston 2018 when they’re available.

Feel free to share your feedback, findings or ask any questions in the comments below or in the forums. I hope you enjoyed this summary of Droidcon Boston 2018! :]

The post Droidcon Boston 2018 Conference Report appeared first on Ray Wenderlich.

Droidcon Boston 2018 Conference Report published first on https://medium.com/@koresol

[craigfergusonimages]

Kavalan for the Financial Times

It’s been a long time between drinks as they say, with a couple of months passing since my last blog post. A fairly hectic couple of months to be sure, so before 2017 kicks into high gear, I’m going to endeavour to get caught up on the blog.

This assignment for the Financial Times came together at the last minute, and saw me heading out to the Kavalan distillery in Yilan, an hour or two outside Taipei. Kavalan is a new player on the whisky scene, and has already won numerous awards. For this assignment, we had a fairly tight schedule, starting off with a customized version of the public tour that anyone can do - customized in that we followed the basic route of the tour but also had access to tany off-limits areas we wanted. The brief for photography was exteriors, interiors and portraits of anyone the writer, Chris Horton, spoke with. It was my first visit to the site, not being a whisky person. I’ve actually since been back again, the second time on assignment for Forbes but that hasn’t been published yet so I can’t show any of those photographs anywhere.

Just before we entered the main tour area, we were joined by Lee Yu-ting, CEO of King Car, the parent company of Kavalan, and Ian Chang, blend master for the whisky. They were actually early as we’d been scheduled to meet with them after the tour. This gave us more time with them, and more options for photography locations.

While I shot a few candids in the tour area, the situation necessitated pushing the ISO up to higher levels around 1600 which I try to avoid. Typically, 400 is as high as I like to go, 800 in a pinch, especially with people photography although modern cameras are certainly capable of producing usable files as high ISO. However, when I know something is destined for print, I like to keep things as clean as possible. The photograph below, shot in the barrel room (which is off-limits to the public) is one of the very high ISO shots, captured way above 1600. Needless to say, it didn’t run.

The barrel warehouse was one of the more photogenic areas, especially when we went up to one of the upper floors. When I shot there for Forbes, I already knew what had run in this story, and so I made more use of this room in order to shoot some different pictures. The tearsheet above (second photo) showing CEO Lee with a glass of whisky was made on the first floor. Here they take various VIP’s for a quick tasting of the latest whisky. I’m not a whisky drinker at all, it’s probably been over 20 years since I last had any, but we got a sample to sip and it was quite smooth. I also made use of the space to put Ian Chang in front of the camera, although his shots ended up not getting used.

After that it was one to lunch and final interview questions before our two subjects had to head off. They asked if we needed more photographs and so I took the opportunity to ask if it were possible to go inside the actual still rooms. On the general tour the public can look through the glass at the stills but I wanted to make some photographs inside. So we got dressed in protective clothing and two of the workers led us on a little private tour behind the scenes. Stuff like that has got to be one of the better perks of my job! The opening shot in this blog is one of those from this perspective - the worker is looking out the windows to where the tour route goes. Here’s another from inside this section.

One of the other interesting rooms we went into was the charring room. This is where they prepare the barrels and then char the insides. One of the photos from here ended up running in the story as well. This is another room that I returned to on my later assignment but you’ll have to wait until after publication to see any of those.

That fire took me buy surprise - it comes out a lot further than I thought it would.

All in all, it was an interesting assignment, a look behind the scenes at a world I don’t know much about. Any job that can put me into cool situations like this is a good one as far as I’m concerned, and last year was full of good ones. I’ll show you a few more of those jobs in the near future.

Before I go I just wanted to let you know that I’ve given my portfolios and site a refresh for the new year. If you’ve come to this blog without going through the homepage, head on over and take a look.