#Sure lets encourage people to buy more single-person vehicles

[wuts-good-gatsby]

It's so frustrating to me that people see electric automobiles as a green technology. They are anything but.

[kyovtani]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

[ banner source ]

[elliesdigitalgarbagedump]

Hey just an idea but maybe instead of pushing veganism or vegetarianism on everyone in our society, we re-evaluate our society’s entire lifestyle and make changes to our individual lifestyles based on that because let’s be real: traditional veganism is not any better for the environment or physically healthier than eating animals products if you’re not doing your due diligence. By being conscientious about where all the products you buy are sourced, you can have a bigger positive impact than simply going vegan.

If you’re:

Eating sustainably/carbon negative farmed meat and/or hunting your own meat, and only eating wild caught fish

Not using sea salt due to its microplastics

Not using products containing palm oil

Eating your own cultivated organic fruit and vegetables or purchasing organic fruit/veggies

Buying honey from local beekeepers as well as having solitary bee hotels around your neighborhood

Not buying new plastic or reusing and recycling that little plastic you inevitably still have

Not purchasing brand new electronics unless 100% necessary

Buying leather or suede second hand instead of purchasing PU leather, and in general trying to purchase second hand clothes rather than buying new

Mostly using cheese and milk from a variety of animals that have lower carbon emissions than cows, ie Sheep and Goat milk

Participating in a city wide composting scheme so your food waste doesn’t go into the landfill and end up producing methane

Donating to lobbyist groups that advocate for the elimination of non-recyclable and non-compostable plastics as well as for the elimination of pesticides and toxic fertilizers

Reducing your carbon footprint by only using public transport or an electric/hybrid car

Collecting rainwater when possible

Choosing not to embalm when burying passed loved ones

Buying or making your own biodegradable soaps instead of purchasing soaps with pollutants and microplastics

Tending to eat local/native grains instead of buying grains from far away places where labor is cheap, and the nutritious food (quinoa for example) is exported rather than eaten by locals

Buying second hand furniture or only purchasing furniture that is made of solid wood and eco friendly materials instead of buying laminate and plastic furniture

Buying bamboo toothbrushes and hairbrushes instead of plastic ones

Buying personal items like bedding and underwear and sneakers and you opt for bamboo based materials instead of polyester, this goes for your mattress as well since you can buy bamboo based foam mattresses

Picking up litter you see on the street

Not smoking cigarettes due to the plastic in them nor vaping from single use cartridges

Volunteering for community wide eco-education

Doing any other eco-friendly lifestyle choice not mentioned...

... You are making a bigger impact on the world than anyone choosing to make a single change to their lifestyle like going vegan. Becoming carbon neutral and making choices that encourage carbon neutrality makes more of a difference than one single lifestyle change. Switching to an electric vehicle is meaningless if you still buy from companies using herbicides and pesticides. Eating organic is still not good enough if you let your food go to waste in a landfill. Choosing locally sourced honey over agave makes a difference (supporting small beekeepers will help maintain local bee populations). Choosing locally hunted meat over quinoa for protein makes a difference (deer populations have grown exponentially due to smaller wolf populations, and you can help your local ecology by hunting and eating them or buying from local deer hunters) but make sure that that is the right choice for you. Furthermore, something you would think is silly and unimportant, like buying wild caught fish instead of inorganic tofu can actually make a difference. Every choice you make has an impact and/or consequences. Unfortunately, it’s sometimes hard to know which choice is best, especially because we have so much misinformation on how to make the right choices. The only solution therefore, is to learn about your community and the environment in which you live. Educating oneself on which choices are best for themselves and their community’s lifestyle is something that very few people will ever take the time to do, even though it is something we really need to start doing. Buying organic fresh fruit and veg may be good for a community living in a perennially warm environment, but if you’re in a colder climate, in winter, when berries are out of season, buying organic fruits and veg might not be the best option since they’re likely to be imported via airplanes not only contributing to carbon emissions but also, they are likely to be much more expensive and unaffordable to the majority of the community. Similarly, in some parts of the world, cows milk might be the most affordable and environmentally friendly milk option, while in another part of the world, goat or sheep’s milk might be the more environmentally friendly and affordable option (side note: almond milk is almost universally never environmentally friendly, soy milk is really quite bad for you, so please choose organic rice (almost never brown rice though due to the high amounts of arsenic) or organic oat milk if you cannot have regular milk. Bonus enviro points to you if you make your own oat or rice milk btw!). So, do your research and then: use your spare time to educate your community and spread your new knowledge about how to make good ecological and health choices, call friends and family out if you see them littering or doing something wasteful, do what you can with your money to support local companies being proactively environmentally friendly, and use the power of your vote to support policies and politicians that will eventually force stagnant industries and corporations to become at the least: carbon neutral.

Dm me if you want some more interesting enviro food facts btw! There’s a whole arsenal of knowledge that I can give you!

Have fun learning to change the world folks!!

[bellesque]

One Kiss (Tom Hiddleston x Reader)

Also available on my AO3.

Rating: G Word Count: 2.5K Tags: Fluff, Best Friends to Lovers, you’re angey and tom calms you down Summary: Whenever one of you is upset, you and your best friend Tom head to your favorite ice cream parlor to vent and eat your feelings. Usually you feel better afterwards. For some reason, this time, a cone of your favorite flavor and a rant doesn't quite do the trick.

A/N:  Hey y'all. Life's been keeping me busy, but I'm back with another Tom oneshot! This was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend about being calmed down by someone she likes. I hope you enjoy!

YOU’RE SEEING RED.

You grind your teeth, feeling the muscle in your jaw twitch as you stalk away. You knew not to engage, not to start fights with people unless you knew you could finish them, but this time they had crossed a line. The safest and smartest course of action for you right now is to literally walk away from it before you do something you regret.

You’re not sure where you’re going exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from Point A and get to Point B, wherever the hell that is.

Rounding the corner to get to your car, you huff at the memory of the things that were said about you. Of the things that were said to you. It all sends a fresh bout of roiling anger to pulse through your veins.

The car door swings open way too wide and you get into the driver’s seat, slamming the door with more force than necessary. You exhale, your eyes scanning your reflection through the rearview mirror. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes filled with cold rage, your mouth is pressed into a hard line. It’s only now you realize that you’re actually shaking—and then, without warning, you feel hot tears well up in your eyes.

Angrily you swat at your face, your eyebrows scrunching together in frustration. Damn it, why do you have to be an angry crier?

Taking a few shuddering breaths you manage to get your emotions under control, although the frustration still lingers like a gentle nudging.

You can’t stay like this forever. It’s in your nature to feel things and then let it pass, but it isn’t completely out of your system yet; you need to vent.

You try calling your closest friends (all 3 of them), only they’re all busy. It’s fine. You don’t hold it against them, knowing everyone has their own life to live. Only it bothers you a little to think that some of them simply brushed you off and changed the direction of the conversation.

Which leads you here, in the parking lot of your favorite ice cream place. You came here in the hopes of cooling off by buying yourself your go-to ice cream, except you’re short on cash. Which means no ice cream for you, and your irritation levels are still pretty high.

The interior of the car begins to feel suffocating as your mind stews in dark thoughts. You climb out and lean against your car, observing the vehicles passing by on the highway that stretches before you with your arms crossed and your expression sullen.

And then someone calls out your name tentatively.

“I didn’t order anything,” is somehow the answer that spills from your lips, and you don’t bother turning around to check if the person has left or not.

He comes into your peripheral vision, but you don’t look at him until he says, “I knew it was you!”

“Oh. Tom. Hi.” You hastily shuffle your features into a polite smile, an alien action considering you want to be doing anything but that. You’re still a little (considerably) mad.

Tom is an acquaintance to you, a friend of a friend who you met at a small social dinner. You haven’t communicated with him since you were introduced all those months ago. You’re surprised he even took the time out to say hello to you today, seeing as you’ve barely had any interaction with him. He could have easily just went about his day without sparing a second glance at you.

He shifts on his feet, hesitating, before he pulls you in for a half hug. As all awkward encounters go, you’re not sure what to do. You can sense him wondering if his hug of greeting is crossing any line so you make it a point to pat him on the shoulder, letting him know that it’s not a big deal. You’re even rather touched at the action; Tom has always been the portrait of a perfect gentleman, and though you barely know him, you know the kindness and concern he has for others is genuine. The man’s hugging you, all warm and amiable, for goodness sake.

“It’s nice to see you,” you say when you pull away.

Tom smiles, his chin dipping minutely in acknowledgment. “And you too. Did I hear you correctly earlier, did you really not get any ice cream?”

“Oh, uh…” You let out a sheepish laugh. “It’s… fine. It’s nothing. I just…” You look around the parking lot. “Like coming here for no reason…? Ha, no, actually I, uh, needed to let off some steam.” Your babble makes you cringe. Maybe it would have been better if Tom hadn’t stopped to be polite. It would have saved you from wanting the earth to swallow you whole right now.

There’s a subtle shift in the expression Tom wears as he studies you, so slight that you could miss it entirely—only he stands close enough for you to notice the concern in his eyes and the knitting of his brows.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” he says, and the sincerity in his tone almost kills you. “I should have seen that you wanted to be left alone. I hope things turn out alright.” He lays a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. “It was nice meeting you again. Hopefully I can see you another time under better circumstances.”

And before he can take three steps away from you, you call out to him. “Wait.”

You catch up to him and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I was being rude. I actually wouldn’t mind the company?” Your statement comes out like a question: a silent invitation for him to stay with you.

It’s ridiculous, you think at the back of your mind. An overstep, considering you just brushed him off earlier and he likely has other plans. But the way Tom simply beams at you, offering to pay for your ice cream (“You wouldn’t come here to just sit in the parking lot. My treat”) abates your aggravation by the smallest degree. You need a friend. He may not be the one you anticipated, but you’re grateful all the same.

He asks about your day and you find yourself pouring out your frustrations, being vague at the beginning until you’re telling him every little thing that’s happened today that went wrong. And he listens with patient understanding, his attention solely focused on you as he sympathizes and empathizes in all the right moments. It’s cathartic, the way you’re able to release everything through words, and Tom doesn’t interrupt you whatsoever. By the end of it, with your stomach full and your heart light, you realize that the afternoon with him was spent fixated on your woe-is-me ranting.

“You don’t deserve that,” you tell him afterwards. “I’m sorry for dumping all that on you. But I’m also really grateful, so, thank you.”

“Don’t apologize. I know what it’s like to need to let things out.” He gives you a genuine smile as you rise to your feet. “I presume now we’ll be keeping in touch?”

“Not just about this situation, I promise,” you grin. “But really—thank you. You really calmed me down.”

“Always happy to help,” he replies, his kind eyes crinkling, and you hug briefly—this time not awkward at all—before parting ways.

Over the next few weeks, you keep in correspondence with Tom. You learn about his work and he talks about his day and vice versa. You talk about your favorite movies, your favorite books, analyzing and exchanging theories. What once was mere acquaintanceship has blossomed into friendship, and you know it isn’t one-sided when Tom calls you, his voice nettled, and you immediately suggest to meet up at the ice cream parlor.

“But I mean,” you add, in fear of… something, you’re not quite sure, “only if you want to.”

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

And so it begins. The ice cream parlor becomes your unspoken sanctuary for when times get tough and one of you needs to get something off their chest. It’s a good friendship, you think, the fact that you’re there for each other in the hard times as well as in the best and goofy times.

You’re happy and content to have someone like Tom in your life. A constant, nonjudgmental, and low-maintenance friend. He isn’t there for just the times you need to vent, no, your friendship has turned out to be something wholesome. You find yourself seeking him out when you have something you want to share, be it something good or something bad, and almost always your mood lifts when you’re with him.

Which is exactly what you need right now.

It’s been a pretty bad day altogether: from the moment you woke up this morning it seemed as though everything was going downhill. You want to have a good cry, to scream and yell. So much has been building up inside you that you’re tired of fighting and you really just need your best friend.

Wow, he really has become your best friend.

It’s the middle of the night and you’re waiting in the ice cream parlor parking lot, a ball of angry energy. You’re pacing—something you don’t do very often—just to calm down a little.

It doesn’t help.

Tom arrives shortly, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. Good, because he knows you need this time to stew a little. Instead he makes a beeline for the ice cream shop’s interior, and he comes out with two cones in each hand. He hands one to you wordlessly.

“Go,” he says, and at the single encouragement you launch into a long-winded detailing of your day. You’re grateful that the shop’s not particularly busy today—your voice is taking on a pretty loud volume in the parking lot, rushed and strained and emotional. You expect to feel the calmness wash over you as soon as you’re finished with your story and your ice cream.

Only you’re still mad.

“Tom. Tom, I’m still mad,” you say, the urgency in your tone almost comical.

He’s thoughtful and quiet, sitting on the hood of your car. “Well, love, sometimes—”

“I don’t really need a speech right now,” you snap. Shit, this is bad. You’ve never once taken out your frustrations on Tom, but that’s also because usually some ice cream and yelling does the trick for you. You’re in foreign territory, and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry, I’m just super stressed.”

“I can see that,” he comments, his blue eyes fixed on you as you begin to pace again.

“It’s just—” You catch yourself before you can rehash everything you just told him. You round on him. “Tom, calm me down. Don’t talk me down, just…”

He rises to his feet, and you continue pacing. “Fuck, why am I so mad?” you hiss, mostly to yourself.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know!” You stop, raising your hands up in annoyance. “Distract me, anything to get my mind off it. You should be good at that, you’re supposed to be my best friend.” It’s not his fault you’re still nettled, of course it isn’t. You know that. But your emotions are getting the better of you, and everything is starting to spiral. You’re sure Tom is going to be upset with you after this. He doesn’t deserve this version of you. And so you begin to berate yourself, your anger now directed at you and your stupid tendency to—

Tom grabs you by the shoulders and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

All the fight from your body seems to dissipate at that very moment, and you stare up at him, dumbfounded. A warmth begins to spread across your body, and it’s not from the previous frustration you were feeling. Your best friend, Tom Hiddleston, he—

You blink. “Did you just—”

“Did it work?” he asks, his voice just barely above a whisper. His gaze is soft, tentative, scanning every inch of your face for any sign of emotion. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Dumbstruck, that’s what you are. You didn’t think something as simple as a forehead kiss would render such an effect on you. “Did it take your mind off things?”

“Y-you caught me off-guard,” you answer, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

“Then I guess it did.”

Your cheeks are warm. Damn it, you never expected to be quieted in such a way. But he’s right—you’re no longer upset, but now all you can think about and obsess over is the way his lips gentled the roaring tigress in you.

You look back on all the times you spent together: how he’s been there for you, and you for him. Silly moments and silly photos. The fuzzy feelings you tried to quell whenever they’d come up. But now they’re here, at the fore of your consciousness, and you fidget.

What are the odds…?

“I’m still a little upset, though,” you say, your voice a little shaky as you take one step closer towards him. You’ve never felt this bold, your heart slamming against your ribcage. Looking up at him, seeing the wonder and longing in his eyes, you think—shit, you hope you’re not wrong—that you both are feeling the exact same way.

His arms settle around your shoulders. Safe, tentative, unsure. “Oh?” He brushes a lock of hair away from your face. Platonic? Could be, to some outsiders. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that gives you the confirmation you need. Here, in this moment, you’re in your own little bubble, the air that was once thick with frustration now thick with tension.

“Yeah, just a little.”

“Do you need another distra—”

You plant your hands on his shoulders and tiptoe, bringing your face to his and kissing him full on the lips to silence him. His arms snake around your waist, delighting you, and your fingers find themselves entangled in his gorgeous curls. It’s not how you picture first kisses to go, but it’s somehow exactly how you pictured kissing Tom would be like. Soft. Sweet. Like coming home.

You pull away, slightly breathless, and Tom rests his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he mutters, his eyes closed.

“Hey now, I kissed you,” you tease, giggling. His eyes open, and his grip around your waist tightens.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” And he pulls you in for another kiss, just as sweet as the first. You think you will never get enough of this, if this is going to be your new life together. You didn’t realize how many romantic feelings you’ve suppressed, but now that they’re finally out in the open it only feels right. To be here, in his arms, in the parking lot of your favorite ice cream place.

You gently place your hands on his chest and your lips part. “I don’t think the staff would appreciate a makeout session out here,” you grin.

Tom’s hand finds yours, and he brushes his thumb over your knuckles before bringing them to his lips for a kiss. “You’re right. Another round of ice cream?”

“I’m in.”

[avengerscompound]

Following Orders

Following Orders- A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2320

Warnings:  smut (M|F, domme/sub, sub!Steve Rogers, name-calling, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, light bondage, vibrator use, pegging, anal fingering)

Synopsis:  As an Agent of SHIELD you are nothing if not good at taking orders. Until you’re not anymore.

Following Orders

“Agent 23, sweep wide and come in from the rear entrance.”  Captain Rogers barks.

“Yes, Captain.”  You reply without hesitation.  That is your job.  To follow orders.  You do it well.  When you follow orders no one gets hurt, the mission is successful, you all go home.  The thought of making a stupid sex joke out of rear entrance only passes through your mind after your automatic compliance.

“That’s what she said.”  Barton’s voice comes in over comms.  You laugh as you dispatch two Hydra agents.  You’re glad someone got to it.

As you reach the entrance four Hydra agents spill out of the door.  You take two of them out with your tasers with such efficiency that their bodies block the door from closing.  The other two actually seem effectively trained for a change.

You cut right narrowly avoiding an array of bullets.  You’re about to engage with them when they drop to the ground.  

“Agent 23, what’s your status?”  Captain Rogers asks.

“I’m in the building, Captain.”  You reply, moving carefully down the hall.  Two more Hydra agents come around the corner and you take them out, this time using a move Natasha taught you.

“And not even a; ‘Thank you, Tony’.”  Stark adds.  It must have been him that took out the two agents outside.  You don’t respond.

“See if you can get to whatever is powering this force shield.”  Captain Rogers barks.

“Yes, Captain.”  You reply.  

You move through the facility, grabbing a Hydra agent on your way through and forcing them to show you the way.   There is low-level chatter over the comms.  There always is. You listen for your callsign but otherwise ignore it.  When you reach your destination you take out another six agents before shutting down the shields on the base.

“Shields are down, Captain.”  You say.

“Then you may want to get clear, sweetheart,”  Tony replies.

You start to run, an explosion rocks the building to its foundations and you slip and fall.  You get up cursing yourself and keep moving.  

“I’m clear.”  You bark as you run through the back door.  Leaping over the bodies still blocking it from closing.

“I need you over here, Agent 23.”  Captain Rogers yells.  

“On it, Captain.”  You have no idea where ‘over here’ is, but you go anyway, running around the outside of the facility towards the sounds of gunfire.

“That’s what she said.”  Barton laughs.  “Guys, you’re not even making this hard.”

“That’s what he said.”  Natasha returns.  You laugh as you hurdle over a crashed car.  

You finally spot Captain Rogers.  He and Sergeant Barnes and back to back.  The Shield is moving so fast between them, slamming into Hydra agents, ricocheting of vehicles.  You make your way to them and there is a sudden explosion.  The ground shakes and you nearly fall again.  The remaining Hydra agents all drop to their knees in surrender.  

You jog over to Rogers and Barnes.

“You’re late.”  Captain Rogers says as you approach.

“Sorry.  Looks like you had it under control.”  You reply.

After the tedious tasks of arresting people and passing them off to the appropriate authorities, you and the avengers head back to the compound.  You go straight to the shower.  After a mission, all you want to do is live in the shower.

You scrub the dirt and blood from your body and discover a long cut up your side, over your rib cage.  You curse yourself for not being more careful and when you step out you dress the wound in antiseptic and gauze.

You step into your bedroom naked and towel drying your hair only to be greeted by Steve, who’s sitting at the end of your bed.

“How did that happen?”  He asks getting to his feet.

You shrug and toss your towel aside.  “Not even sure.  It’s a nasty one though.”  

“Let me see.”  He says, approaching you.  

“Excuse me?  Who do you think you’re talking to?”  You ask, taking a step towards him and running your hand down his chest.

Steve smiles and looks down at you.  “I’m sorry.  What was I thinking?”  

His hands move to your hips and you give him an incredulous look.  “Hands to yourself, Rogers.”

He drops his hands.  “Yes, ma’am.”

You lean up and graze your lips over his.  He tries to deepen the kiss and you step back and slap him on the ass.  “You are pushing your luck today.  You hoping I might punish you?”

He raises his eyebrow.  “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No, you wouldn’t.  Would you?”  You smile, sliding your hands down his chest, dancing them over his groin.  “You’re my good boy.  You like doing as you’re told.”

He makes an involuntary squeak sound as your fingers tease over his cock.  He’s already completely hard.  His cock straining at his pants.  “Take off your clothes, Steve.”  You purr.

Steve starts stripping and you go to your drawer of goodies, removing some toys you think Steve might like to play with today.

You go place the items on the bedside table and disappear into the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth.  Steve just stands and watches, waiting for further instruction.  

You debate actually punishing him.  Sometimes you would.  Sometimes Steve needs the release of trusting you to bend him over and flog him and to know he’s really safe, and you will never go further than he can take.  Not after a mission though.  After a mission he has already experienced the pain.   Now he just needs to let go of control.  To be anyone except Captain America.  The man in charge.  The man who has to make the decisions that could mean a person lives or dies.

“Sit down on the chair.  You’re going to watch me.  You are to keep your hands to yourself.”  You order, pointing to the chair in the corner of the room.

Steve complies.  You sit on the bed opposite him and spread your legs.  You gently toy with your clit as you maintain eye contact with Steve.  “I have my vibrator.  Should I use that?  Or should I call James, get him to take care of me?”  You ask.

Steve shifts in his chair.  His cock twitches and a bead of precome pools at the head.  “Don’t…”  He breathes.

“Don’t what?  Fuck James while you watch?  But he knows just how to get me off, Stevie.  He’s so good with his hands.”  You tease.  “Or don’t make you choose?  That’s it isn’t it?  You don’t want to make any decisions today.”

Steve doesn’t answer which is exactly the answer you need.  “Just the two of us then.”  You say picking up your vibrator.   You slick the device with lube and press it against your clit before turning it on.  Slowly and never taking your eyes from Steve you fuck yourself with the device.  Steve sits staring.  His hands gripping the arms of the chair, watching you as you bring yourself to orgasm.

You hold the buzz over your clit while you squeeze your breast.  You move it in and out of your cunt, pressing hard against your g-spot.  When your orgasm hits you fall back onto the mattress and arch your back, crying out.

You pull the vibe away and switch it off.  For a little while you just lie there panting, your legs spread so Steve can see your dripping cunt.  

You sit up and put the vibrator on the side table with the other toys.  “Now it's your turn to do that for me, Steve.”  You purr.  “Only your hands and mouth.  Do not try to get yourself off.”

He gets up and approaches you.  “Can I kiss you?”  He asks.

You nod, and he leans down and captures your mouth with his.  You let him lead.  His lips caress yours and he lazily swipes his tongue over the corner of your mouth.  It makes you shudder, and you take a ragged breath in.  Breathing in the air he’d just exhaled.  

His hands slide down your back to your ass and he suddenly lifts you moving you back on the mattress.  When he’s positioned you where he wants you he breaks the kiss and moves down your body.

He takes a nipple into his mouth and suckles on it.  You stroke your fingers through his hair as he does and hum.  “Mmm… That feels nice.”

His fingers move between your folds and he rolls them over your clit.  You start to pant as heat builds in your cunt.  It’s like molten metal swirling in your veins. It pools in your stomach and drips from you.

“Steve,”  You groan.  “I need your mouth.”

Steve moves lower. His tongue slips between your folds and he laps up, pressing against your clit.  He pushes his fingers inside of you and curls them inside.  Stroking them along your walls, pushing against your g-spot.  You grind your hips against his face.  Moaning as he coaxes another orgasm from you.  

“Oh fuck yes, Steve.”  You groan as it begins to peak.  “You’re doing so well, baby.”

Your words encourage him and he moves faster and uses more force.  Your orgasm crashes through you, taking complete control of your body.  You writhe underneath Steve as your cunt squeezes around his fingers.  

He sits up and looks at you smiling.  His lips glisten with your arousal.

You get to your knees and face him, stroking your thumb over his bottom lip.  “Get on your back.”  You growl.

He lies down on the bed and you pick up a pair of leather cuffs from the bedside table and attached them to his wrists.  You then fasten them to the head of the bed.  “Are you comfortable, my love?”  You ask.

Steve nods and you stand up, picking up the harness from the bedside table.  You step into it and buckle it in place as he watches you.  His eyes are cloudy and his tongue runs over his bottom lip.

“Shall I use the one I used on myself?”  You ask.

“Yes, please.”  He answers.  His voice is gravelly and raw.  It’s like all this man is right now is desire.  He’s given every single other part of himself up.

You pick up the vibrator and push it into the harness.  You grab the lube and move between his legs.  He lifts them, spreading them up and out.  You squeeze the viscous substance so it oozes between his cheeks, dripping onto the bedspread.  

Steve starts panting as you smear the goo around, circling his asshole with your finger.  You push it inside of him and he bears down on you.  “You’re gonna need to relax, my love.”  You purr, as you slowly move your finger in and out.  Each time you push in you go a little deeper hooking your finger up until you touch the smooth, soft spot that lets you know you’ve reached his prostate.

You stroke your finger over it and he jerks violently in his bonds.  The bedhead makes a crack sounds from the strain.  

“Relax, Steve.”  You snap.

“Please… oh god … please.”  Steve pleads.  “I need… I need…”

You slide your finger from his ass and start spreading lube on your vibrator.  “That’s it, my love.  Beg me.  Beg me for it.”

“Please.  Please.  I need it.”  Steve begged.

You lined the vibe up with his asshole and push in.

Steve groans as you slowly ease it inside of him.  You take his cock in your hand and start pumping up and down his shaft.  Your hand moves easily thanks to the lube already coating your palm.  As you move your hand precome starts leaking from him, and you use it.  Mixing it with the lube.   You pump quickly and start to match your hand movement with the movement of your hips, thrusting in and out of Steve’s ass.

Steve completely releases all control.  He comes apart.  Moaning and panting and pleading with you.  Thanking you over and over.  He writhes under you, his legs wrap around your waist, pulling you deeper into him.  You love seeing him like this.  This complete surrender to you and his pleasure.  It’s something he never gives outside the bedroom.  He always has to be in control.  Of himself.  Of others.  It’s his burden.  The fact you can get him to hand it over so willingly is the biggest turn-on of all.

You feel his cock start to pulse in your hand.  “Good boy, Steve.  That’s it.”  You purr.  

“Oh god, oh god.  Baby.”  He whimpers.  He releases.  Come spills from him in wave after wave.  It coats your hand and his stomach.  Stay droplets even reach his chest.

You slide the vibrator from his ass.  And he relaxes back on the bed panting.  You can actually see the physical difference.  Not a single one of his muscles seem tensed anymore.

You wriggle from the harness and grab the washcloth.  You start by wiping your hands, then carefully clean Steve off.   He hums and closes his eyes as you wipe his stomach and cock clean.   Finally, you unbuckle his wrists and he wraps his large arms around you pulling you against his chest.  

“Thank you.  I really needed that.”  He sighs, kissing you on top of the head.

“Of course, Steve.  I kinda needed it too.”  You lean up and he kisses you.  It’s soft and gentle and you can feel the love radiating out of him.  “Do you want to take a bath?  I should probably change these sheets.”

“That sounds nice.  Can we stay here for a bit?”  Steve asks.

You snuggle down into his shoulder and squeeze your arms around him.  “Whatever you need.”

He slowly strokes his fingers down your skin.  Tomorrow morning when you get up and join the others he’ll be Captain Rogers again and you’ll be Agent 23.   For now, you just appreciate the fact you can be yourselves.

[probably-writing-x]

You are the reason

~~~Based on You Are the Reason by Calum Scott~~~

With tight gripped knuckles on the sheets, you bolted upright from your slumber - sweat beading on your forehead and your heart racing beyond normality. You settle your head back against the headboard and push your hand to your chest to calm down the fear, relaxing yourself to no longer be panicked. It wasn't the first time this had happened. In fact, it wasn't even the first time this week. Always the same dream, each getting a little bit worse. You'd be trapped behind glass or held back, always fighting against whatever it was to get to Shawn. He'd be panicking, eyes wide with fear as he struggles with everything in him to just take one breath. As his chest got tighter, so did your restraints - pulling you further and further from any chance of helping him.

You groan and run your hands over your disarray hair. It was hopeless to wish sleep upon yourself now. So, with your phone flashing to reveal the time as 03:07, you drag yourself out of bed and pad through to the lounge of your apartment.

Shawn was the reason for all of this. The reason you woke up in a nightmarish panic and why you'd spent three nights of this week sat at the island in your kitchen instead of sleeping.

You take a deep breath and click onto your Instagram, instantly being greeted by a photo Josiah had recently posted of Shawn on tour. Him. He was the one responsible for you feeling like this. But, god, you wanted him to come back.

The two of you had broken up only five months ago. It was your fault. You weren't understanding enough and you asked for too much of his time and you couldn't find the balance between accepting his work and loving him as your boyfriend. You argued, screamed, cried and, eventually, it ended. It all fell flat against the Toronto skyline and Shawn packed up to go on tour. You hadn't seen him since, only glimpses in photos and videos that his team posted.

You should've done something differently. You should've gone with him and fixed this. You should've -

There was no hope. Every time your mind went running a thousand miles an hour, you knew it would always get you back to one place. That you wanted him back.

He felt like your lifeline. He stopped you from breaking and picked you back up again when you got close to doing so. He was the reason, the one behind it all.

The truth was, you'd go through a million miles to take it all back. To change every mistake, fix up the pieces of the relationship you were adamant would be a forever. You'd do everything in your power, break through impossible terrains to reach that heart of his and never let it go.

You needed to be with him. You needed to see and hold him and promise that, in another million days, you would never hurt him again. You needed to make it clear that he was the reason behind all of this.

~~~~~~

"Hey, dude, did you see this?" Brian flops down next to Shawn and sticks his phone in his friend's direction, "We're missing all the decent parties now we're not home,"

"You mean you are," Shawn rolls his eyes, taking the phone and swiping through the endless photos, "Do I even know these people?"

"Yeah that's -" Brian stops instantly as soon as Shawn swipes onto the next photo and he's met with a face that he definitely didn't expect to be hit with like that.

(Y/n). She's got a red cup in one hand that she's holding out proudly to the camera, laughing with crinkles next to her eyes. She's dressed in a simple royal blue romper Shawn remembers her buying - he told her that the colour brought out her eyes but, really, anything she wore would always bring out the piercing beauty he found in those eyes.

Before he knows it, the phone starts to shake in his trembling hands. All because of her.

"Sorry dude, I didn't know she wa-" Brian quickly takes the phone back and locks the screen to quickly erase the photo, "I mean she rarely goes to those parties and I-"

"It's alright," Shawn shakes his head, "Just a photo,"

"I know but-"

"I'm fine," Shawn assures, standing up from the couch on the tour bus and residing back to his cabin bed on the vehicle.

You always had that effect now. That surreal feeling that his heart was bleeding out in his chest and breaking into unfixable pieces right beneath his skin. Every single time.

He settles his head back against the rattling wall behind him and takes a deep breath. The only person that could ever cure any feeling like this was her.

"Fuck," He mutters under his breath, running his hands to the back of his neck and hanging his head low.

He woke up every day wishing for one single thing. Wishing every single time that he could just turn the clock back. He'd do it all differently. For starters, he'd never ever let himself break that golden heart of yours. He'd make sure he still tried even when you two were at your lowest. He'd make sure he carried you out of your darkest moments even if his own actions had caused them. He'd tell you he loved you more and he wouldn't let his selfishness get in the way of ever proving to you how much he didn't deserve someone so good.

He'd spend every day making you feel safe, loved, cared for. He'd do it all differently. Because he was the one that broke you in the first place. He was the one that broke what the two of you had and, God, that killed him.

It didn't matter how far away he was. He'd still drop everything to get to you. He'd get the next flight, cross the Atlantic and land directly at your door in the hopes that he could say everything he wished he could've said before. He'd make those words fix it all.

He needed to see you.

~~~~~

Fuck. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. You had your keys in one hand with your passport and phone, your earphones shoved into your ears, a duffel bag in the other hand and an open car door in front of you. And you stepped through.

"To the airport please," You say quickly, running a hand through your hair.

"In a rush, miss?" The driver frowns, setting her foot on the gas to start driving out of your street.

"Something like that," You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest and taking in a deep breath.

This was your last chance.

Your leg trembled beneath your hand as you awaited your arrival. You'd just about make the final check in, hurry through security and, in a matter of a few hours, you'd be flying across to London to hopefully resolve exactly what your heart been desiring.

Twelve hours and you'd be there.

~~~~~

"There has to be an earlier flight!" Shawn groans, running a hand through his tugged out curls.

"There's nothing man, and you still need to do the show tonight," Connor points out, scrolling down the screen on his laptop to show Shawn all the possible flight times.

"This is (Y/n) we're talking about!" Shawn raises his voice a little, "I need to see her,"

"Right," Connor swivels in his chair to face his friend, "And, if she's that important, you can wait another twelve hours before getting that flight to see her,"

Shawn sighs and drops back down onto the couch. Twelve hours and he'd be there, waiting to board his flight to you and only you.

~~~~~

Half a day had never felt so long. You'd barely slept on the flight and, with disheveled hair and puffy eyes, you dragged yourself off from the flight and through passport control before reaching the lounge and trying to find any sort of exit in an airport that felt so unfamiliar.

"(Y/n),"

But that voice. That voice would always be familiar.

You turn around and see as Shawn stands up from one of the chairs in the airport.

"What are yo-" He starts, "Am I- Are you- Am I seeing things?"

You can't help but smile, only a little, at his words.

Seeing him, face to face with you, you realise exactly what you were about to get yourself into.

It had been months. His hair was longer now but everything else just the same - warm eyes, chiseled face, flushed cheeks. He's every part of the boy you loved. The boy you love.

"I-" He begins but stops himself as he steps the large stride between the two of you.

His hands reach up to cup your cheeks and he leans down to kiss you longingly. It isn't hesitant but you know he's terrified of how you will respond. His hands don't want to hold you too intensely but they want to be strong enough to trust himself when he thought you were there.

"I came to find you, I needed to see you," You comment breathlessly when he pulls away as you grab at the material of his tshirt on his chest.

"It's been way too long (Y/n), god I've missed you so fucking much," He shakes his head.

Both of you look desperate and messy in the middle of this airport lounge but you dismiss it completely.

Your eyes are filling with tears and you're beginning to tremble in his touch.

"Shawn, I came because I had to tell you-" You begin but your words are quivering in every syllable, "I-"

"I know, I know," Shawn encourages, holding you a little tighter, "God, I was about to forget tour just to find you,"

You swallow the lump in your throat, "Okay but this is it now, you and me. No more fighting, no more running,"

"No more tears," Shawn mumbles, wiping his thumb across your cheek to erase the tear stains left there.

"We can fix all of this, we can make it work," You state and hearing the words seems to solidify what you'd been telling yourself for so long.

"Come here," Shawn says, pulling you impossibly closer to him and wrapping you in his embrace tighter than he ever had before.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and inhales the lingering scent of your shampoo, mixed only with the scent of the perfume he'd bought you many moons ago.

This could be fixed. Because, here you were, at some ungodly hour, gripping onto him and him holding you close enough to trust thay he'd never lose you. And it was all because of him.

~~~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @spiderrpcrker @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo @httpfandxms

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Atonement, chapter 2

Ansem always had a penchant for strays, so it's not at all surprising when he takes in the orphaned child Ienzo. The boy's presence changes everything, far more than Even is willing to admit. Ienzo's brilliance seems promising, but the arrival of a young Xehanort pushes the apprentices onto a dark, cruel, inhumane path which will affect the future of the World. And even once it's all over with--once Xehanort is dead--they still must pick up the pieces, forgive one another, find a way to atone for their atrocities, and struggle to accept the humanity which has been thrust upon them.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo has just turned six. He’s been at the castle for most of a year.

Aeleus is icing the simple white cake when Even goes to get his morning coffee. “You’re spoiling the boy,” he says in lieu of greeting. “Ansem gives him more than enough sugar with all the ice cream.”

Aeleus shrugs. “It’s not a birthday without cake.”

“Indeed, when presented with such things when I was younger, I nearly went feral,” Dilan says. “Though sugar does not seem to affect his countenance.”

“Not much does.”

“It’s worth celebrating, that he’s speaking,” Aeleus says. He puts the frosting knife in the sink. “Maybe we can encourage him to talk more.”

He still does not speak much, even now. His sentences are short, plain, often monosyllabic. At least they no longer need to rely on the whiteboard.

But now that he speaks, his nightmares have heft, sound. Even can hear him cry for them. It never hurts any less.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Dilan says. Ienzo appears, still in pajamas, rubbing his eyes. “Happy birthday.”

He blinks. “That’s today?”

Even chuckles. “I figure today we can do something you like. Play, or perhaps go outside?”

Ienzo opens the fridge door and takes out a juice box. “No thank you,” he says politely. “I want to finish my book.”

“Anything for the prince, eh,” Dilan says. He’s taken to calling Ienzo that; despite the fact that he and Ansem have no blood ties and that “king” is an elected title. “If you go outside you can get more books, you know. Not just this dusty old tosh.”

This grabs his attention.

“I’ll even buy you one as a present.”

Ienzo turns pink. “Thank you.”

Dilan smiles. “Why it is my pleasure. Go get dressed. We can leave after breakfast.”

He retreats to his room quickly. Even puts up oatmeal. “That’s kind of you,” he says.

“He needs exercise. It’s not normal to be cooped up all day.”

“Dilan spoils the boy, but I can’t?” Aeleus asks dryly. “The double standards.”

Even laughs a little. “Such is the way of life.”

He returns to his lab. He had success with another fertilization; this one actually divided twice before dying. What was the difference? He doesn’t think he did anything differently. During all of his medical school studies, he did not recall IVF to be so finicky.

This isn’t the same thing. It’s a vehicle.

He studies the corpses of the cells under blacklight, trying to find anything that might illuminate the truth.

---

Ansem approaches him now, not the other way around. Even would be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy the power. “Sorry to intrude,” he says.

Even looks up from the chaise and decides to be nice. “Nothing to intrude. I was mending Ienzo’s coat. He’s growing so quickly, I had to let down the hem.” They can buy clothes at the shops, but not many vendors sell lab coats in children’s sizes. They’re teaching Ienzo general chemistry; he needs to have protection.

“You’re sure? He’s awfully small.”

He hums idly. “He’s on the bottom end of average,” he admits. “I have a feeling Ienzo will always be relatively petite. But he eats plenty, and Dilan introduced him to the library in town, which is an incentive to walk.”

“...He goes on his own now?” Ansem asks. He sits without being invited.

Even pauses slightly in his stitching. “How old were you when you ran your first errand?” he asks instead. “He has to be back in half an hour, otherwise we take away the books. Funny. For most children reading is punishment.” He holds up the jacket, checking for evenness. “Can I help you with something?”

He picks up the book he’s carried in. It’s an odd size, old, the cut of the paper uneven. “I… admit I still do not know anything about which you’re working. But I know you have a body problem. I wonder if this might help.”

He eyes it derisively. “Not exactly cutting edge science, is it?”

Ansem chuckles. “No, but… I’ve spoken with a new… friend, and I wonder if this is food for thought.”

Even takes the book from him. The font is ancient, hard to read. “ Mysticism of the Heart? Sounds a bit… Romantic.”

Ansem shakes his head. “It’s nothing to do with feelings. Well, not quite. The author was a sorcerer… oh, many years ago. She studied the heart.”

“...As have I. As have we all.”

“The metaphysical heart, Even.” He seems exasperated. “I find myself… intrigued, as well. I was up all night reading it.”

“...That so?” He strokes the cover, the soft, crumbling leather.

“If you… want to make something living, you have to understand the forces behind it. At least, that’s how I see it.”

“None of this is proven,” Even says, but despite himself he can feel his mind stirring, the block loosening.

“Maybe not with science. Maybe not with black and white.”

“Consider my interest… piqued.”

---

Like Ansem, he finds himself engrossed in every page; he takes copious notes. The text is hard to read, from the font to the fact that it is an older dialect of their language. But the ideas behind it are fascinating, and not just from a scientific standpoint.

Everyone knows a person is made of a body, heart, and will; but nobody understands the latter two, how they function. Nobody can test something so abstract. But if he can figure it out… or at least start to get there… maybe it will mean something for the dying cells smeared on his slides.

He can feel an excitement rising in him, an eagerness, a passion, that he hasn’t experienced in some time. He’s finally getting somewhere. He photocopies the book to have as reference, and without a word, gives it to Aeleus.

Within two weeks none of them can shut up about it. Ienzo watches them discuss it, warily, another fantasy story in his hands. Even finds himself digging through the libraries all throughout the castle for more--there has to be more. But everything else he finds about the heart is vague, at best. Limited. A single line in a dictionary. He bites the bullet and begins looking towards texts of religion and philosophy as well, but unlike Mysticism of the Heart , it is all waffling.

The sorcerer who crafted the book spent her whole life studying the heart. After apprenticing under a master magician, she spent years crafting spells to look within--to feel the heart, what it might mean. She asked as many people as she dared (it was a time and place where magic was viewed as heresy, so Even can’t help but admire her nerve) if she, too, could look within their hearts. She wrote out each as a case study, but her major conclusions were as follows:

Hearts are not mere physical matter. They are made of two forms of metamatter, heretoafter deemed “light” and “darkness.” Like yin and yang, they were not necessarily good and evil, but rather seemed to have certain qualities: light was associated with feeling, healing, and nurturing, while darkness was associated with power, knowledge, and a desire to better oneself rather than the collective.

Hearts are about “feeling”, about aqueous aspects of identity.

The presence of bonds seem to make a heart stronger or weaker, depending on their health.

Stronger individuals could always produce more and fulfill themselves more.

Even had, of course, studied darkness and light; but they had been viewed mostly as pejoratives, things that were intangible. If this is right--this dusty old tome from who knows how long ago--it’s so much more literal than they ever could have guessed.

---

He is trying to draft ways to explore this more clearly when Ienzo finds him. Without a single word, he places a book on Even’s lap. “...What’s this?” Even asks him.

“It talks about hearts.”

Even examines it. It’s a fairy story; one from Ansem’s study. He feels a swell of something like pride when he realizes that Ienzo likely took it without permission. “A fantasy story?” he asks.

Ienzo shrugs. “They talk about dark and light.”

There’s no point on waiting for him to elaborate. “I will… examine it in more detail,” he says, shunting it to the bottom of his list.

Ienzo begins to leave, but then turns. “And magic,” he says.

Even furrows his brows. Acting on impulse, he opens the storybook Ienzo left behind.

Well, hell.

---

It all causes a massive dissonance; how much lore, nebulous and malleable, actually has more truth in it than they all think?

As a man of science, and yes, he thinks, reason, how can he possibly believe it, when this whole time he only believed what could be proven with numbers?

Even’s mind slivers into pieces: the part of him invested in his experiment; the part of him beginning to play into this heart nonsense; and the part of him that looks after Ienzo. Because the boy really does need looking after.

He’s still not well--with the absence of proper treatment, he can never be well. No longer trusting only Ansem’s word, Even takes a look at his predecessor’s reports--Ansem’s office is so disorganized, he will never notice if these things go missing for a few hours--and discovers to his horror that Ansem wasn’t embellishing at all.

The shift in Radiant Garden’s economy from manufacturing to STEM brought unprecedented progress. It increased their food yields, meaning nobody went hungry; it gave them technology and medicine to save lives, to make life in general easier. But with that shift meant a loss in other ways of other studies; they became neglected. Namely, the humanities. And under these older referendums, psychology was not deemed a hard science.

The people are feeling the strain. This, on top of the cultural stigma that comes with seeking help. Not so many students are studying the subject--none that will pursue the accreditation, anyway. Meaning with a dying and retiring population of therapists, there’s increasingly nowhere to turn to.

It isn’t just psychology, either. Even doesn’t have the time to crunch the numbers, but with the arts and humanities slowly being neglected, Radiant Garden is going through a slow cultural death. It upsets him more than he thought possible.

Perhaps this is why, after one of Ienzo’s nightmares, he does more than leave him be.

It’s almost a routine at this point. It’s clear that Ienzo has no control of himself during these spells; as soon as he wakes up, he tries his utmost to quiet the cries, so as not to disturb the rest of them. More upsetting yet.

Even brings him a cup of weak tea with honey, a cool cloth for his face. “...Are you alright?” he asks the boy. He has no idea where to begin. “How do you… feel?”

Ienzo looks at him as though he couldn’t have asked a stranger question.

He tries again, feeling rapidly out of his depth. “Are you afraid?”

He sniffles. “No. I… see them.”

“In your dreams?”

“All the time.” His small hands tremble when he takes the teacup. “I know they’re… dead.”

“Yes,” Even says. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t… remember. Except for…” He touches his shoulder. “Did I make it up? Those monsters.”

“...No.”

He considers this. “They ate them?”

Even flinches without meaning to.

Ienzo interprets this as a confirmation. “They ate them.”

“It is never… easy, to lose someone.” The ever-present ache around his heart tightens. “We’ve… tried measures, to get rid of them.” It doesn’t help that the Unversed population is almost impossible to track; but this isn’t Even’s purview. “We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I know,” he says.

“It’s okay to miss them,” Even says. “You know this, yes?”

Slowly, Ienzo nods. “Where are they?”

“We… had them cremated shortly afterwards. While you were recovering.”

He shakes his head, and repeats the question.

“Oh… well… there’s no clear answer.” He clears his throat. “Some people believe that they go to a heaven, or an afterworld. Others believe that their souls are reincarnated into other people, or animals. Some think that they… merely go to sleep.”

He thinks about this. “Is it peaceful?”

Even’s heart about breaks. “Yes,” he says softly. “It’s very peaceful.”

“...Okay,” he says, and shrugs. “As long as they’re okay.”

“If you would like, I can… make a space for you to mourn. With the… mortuary tablets.”

“No thank you,” he says. “I’m tired now. Good night.”

---

Even does not know how else to broach the subject, but the conversation reveals him to be something of a hypocrite. How can he possibly teach Ienzo how to grieve when he refuses to grieve his own losses?

But he can’t begin the process and not end it; it would be continual, it would take work. It would distract him for his research and possibly incapacitate him for some time. He couldn’t give in to that urge now, not when he is so close to a solution. This is what’s been missing, he’s sure. Something… that can’t be created literally. But to move forward first he needs to understand more about hearts, and how they relate to their people.

“Master? Forgive me for intruding.”

Ansem looks up at him wearily. “Oh… hello.”

“Are you alright?” he asks, without meaning to.

“I’m merely tired. I’ve got… more arguments on my hands. It’s hard to find the budget to jumpstart a mental health program without taking away other things--and none of my colleagues can stand any of my suggestions.”

“I’ve no idea why you decided to go into politics.”

“Consider me a fool for trying to enact change.” Ansem sighs. “What is it you need?”

Even folds his hands together. “I don’t need more resources, but I was hoping to… reallocate some things,” he says. “We--Aeleus and Dilan too--would like to investigate the matters of the heart more scientifically. It would mean certain projects would have to wait, but… we all feel a passion for it, and I can’t pretend that’s meaningless.”

“...Yes,” Ansem says. “I… feel the same way about it. Finding truths about life itself… would make my work feel a lot less frivolous.”

“I can draw up a budget--”

“No need.” Ansem smiles. “Do what you must.”

---

So that’s it, then.

They need a workspace, one where they could all gather. There’s space in one of the lower levels, near the castle’s CPU; the maintenance techs will not be happy to deal with their comings and goings, but Even could care less. It is a bit isolated, but that also means it will be quiet.

It has been a long time since the four of them worked together on something, since shortly after graduate placement. And truly they had never done it like this.

Dilan surveys their office space with distaste. “...Quite sterile, isn’t it? No natural light.” Aside from two offices, the space is completely open; Ienzo spends quite some time running to and fro, and as he scarcely does this, they indulge him.

“...Is it? I could rather care less about decor.” Even opens one of the boxes and gently begins unpacking his gear into a cabinet.

“I’ll bring some plants,” Aeleus says.

“Well, we have what we need; where do we begin?” Dilan asks.

“Ansem started this. Maybe he has some clue.” There’s a loud crash; Ienzo ran clean into the sharp end of one of the metal tables and clutches his knee. He does not cry, but grits his teeth in silence. “Oh, goodness. What have you done to yourself?” At least he had the good sense to place his first aid kit towards the top of the pile. He tends to the small cut. “Be careful, alright? There are more dangerous things in this room than just a table.”

He shrugs, and drops his eyes. “I got excited,” he says.

---

It is all terribly exciting. It shouldn’t feel this strange to have Ansem back in the room with them. They sit clustered around the worktables, brainstorming or trying to; Ienzo studies, supposedly working out some math problems Dilan set him.

“There must be a way to unify these two methods,” Ansem says. “The science, the magic. Why shouldn’t it be some combination of both of them?”

Dilan all but rolls his eyes. “That’s all fine and dandy, if it were not for the fact that none of us have any training.”

“Couldn’t we learn?” Aeleus asks. “The… manuscript details how these things were done.”

Dilan twists the ends of one of his braids. “...Teach a machine how to do magic,” he says slowly. “It’s so insane that it might actually work.”

“A machine?” Ansem asks.

“Well, the manuscript also mentions how exhausting such spellwork is--not to mention, how advanced. We can’t afford to wear ourselves down. Nor do we have the time to study such things for so long.”

Even thinks about it. “You may be onto something.”

---

It takes time, and it takes all of them; fall wears into winter. The castle has always been drafty and damp, but here in the basement it’s basically unbearable. They huddle around space heaters, wander around in too  many layers. Dilan spends hours--weeks--poring over page after page of blueprints, trying to figure out how to make it work.

It isn’t as if Even can sneak away to try to work on his own projects, so he focuses on Ienzo. The boy isn’t perfect; he does trip up and make mistakes and occasionally can’t wrap his head around things. He has more aptitude for some subjects than others, favoring biology over chemistry and psychology over math. Even can’t help it; maybe he can’t give Ienzo the help he needs, but maybe he can give the boy the tools to eventually help himself.

Intellectually, he’s more advanced than many. But he’s still a child, with all the trappings of one. When he sees the snow on the ground, he’s tempted. So Aeleus takes him out to play. He returns delighted, pink-faced and soaked, and for the first time Even can recall he doesn’t have a nightmare.

Then he gets sick.

The castle’s something of a germ vacuum. Of course the moment Ienzo’s vulnerable something sneaks in. At first it seems merely like a cold; he sneezes over his studies, needs to be reminded to cover his mouth. Even gives him cold medicine, keeps an eye on him; all he knows is that he can feel this is something more, and his reliance on that instinct embarrasses him. When the boy begins audibly shivering Even takes him upstairs to bed. Ienzo’s fever rises dramatically--he’d forgotten how bad, how terrifying it can be in small children. Even plies him with fluids, with an antiviral. He just has to wait, to mop the poor child’s sweaty brow and hope it gets no worse.

“...How’s our patient?” Dilan asks. He carries a tray with soup for the both of them. “Don’t protest. This is for you. You’ve been up all night.”

“It’s the flu, I’m afraid.” He’s just dipped this cloth in cool water, it’s warm already. “Thank goodness he’s sleeping. He’d be miserable otherwise.”

Dilan stares down at the lump that was Ienzo, barely visible below all the blankets. “...How bad is it?”

Even checks his log; he’s been taking his temperature every two hours, in the vain hope that it’ll break sooner rather than later. “Hovering around 40.5.”

“...Goodness, that’s…”

“If it gets higher we can chance an ice bath. But I’d rather not do that if I can avoid it. He’s already so sensitive--odds are his mind would interpret the cold as pain.”

“Couldn’t you simply… put the boy to sleep?”

“As if the ice water wouldn’t wake him up?”

Dilan puts a hand to his forehead. “Forgive me… my head is rather foggy.”

“You must be exhausted.” Even rewets the rag and places it back on Ienzo’s warm little face. “Get some rest. The last thing we need is for you to get it as well.”

He nods. “Should I… call someone?”

“Like who? Dilan.” He chuckles. “I’ve seen many sick children in my day. I promise I’m qualified.”

“I know you’re close to the boy. That can cloud things.”

“...We’ll be just fine. Your concern touches me.”

He stays with Ienzo that night; Ansem comes in and out, bringing them food, blankets, tea. He makes Even go sleep for a few hours. Even hopes his own exhaustion is just that. The last thing he needs…

Ienzo’s fever drops from 40.5 to 39. An improvement, but not much of one; now instead of being asleep, he’s conscious and miserable and the cold medicine only makes him irritated. He still can barely keep anything down. Even tries not to worry--it takes much longer than two days for the flu to pass--but inside a web of anxiety is spinning, gently, what if he doesn’t get better, what if the fever suddenly worsens in the night and he seizes, isn’t there something else I can do? He almost has to force the boy to drink, considers starting an IV line. After a few hours Ienzo sleeps, fitfully, shivering hard. Despite himself, Even drifts too, jolting back into consciousness every time his head nods. He knows he should ask for someone to relieve him, at least temporarily. But who?

During one of these sleepy waves, he hears it. “Daddy?”

Even blinks hard. “It’s Even, little one. Go back to sleep.”

He takes a shaky breath, one full of phlegm. “Where is he?”

He cracks a little. “I’m sorry. He’ll be back soon.”

“He’s supposed to--” Ienzo’s reeling a little, his eyes rolling.

“What, love?”

“The song to make it go away--” He shudders, propping himself up.

“Lay back down. It’s alright.” His family must have had rituals, Even realizes, just like any other. “I can read to you, would that help?”

“Why did they leave?” His voice breaks.

“Oh, love. They didn’t want to.”

Ienzo bursts into tears. It’s not the same as the nightmare-induced panic attacks; there’s a cold sentience to this. Almost instinctively, and against his better judgement, Even draws him into his arms. He’s unsure of how Ienzo will react to the touch, but to his surprise he feels the boy clinging to him.  It feels so familiar. The weight of him is almost exactly like--

Anything but that.

He tries to focus on comforting the boy, but all he can say are some variations of “it’s alright.” It seems to take a very long time for Ienzo to calm down, settling down against Even’s chest in an exhausted heap. He dares not move, lest he disturb him more.

The next thing he knows he’s waking up, the boy still asleep in his arms. As gently as Even can, he lays him back down and tucks the blanket more securely around his shoulders. He checks the boy’s fever. 38, only a touch higher than normal. They’re out of the woods. Or, he notes with a groan as he feels a sudden ache in his back, Ienzo is. He makes his way slowly out of the room and sees Dilan. “Don’t come any closer,” he warns. “I believe I’ve caught it too.”

Dilan sighs. “I’ll bring you some soup. Best get to bed.”

“...Right. Never a dull day around here, is there?”

“If only.”

He is beginning to feel the brunt of it in earnest; he shivers as he bathes no matter how warm the water, and the blankets do not seem to be enough. Dilan, in a mask, brings him medicine. Even tries to read for a while, but nothing has straight lines anymore, so he succumbs to a restless sleep.

Of course he’s aware delirium can twist the mind, can weaken it, can lower one’s defenses. That doesn’t make him prepared for the onslaught that follows. He can see their faces clear as day as desperately as he tried to forget them--he can hear their voices--

Dad, look! Look, I got it! The boy, hanging determinedly from a set of monkey bars.

Please be careful--oh, love--

Even, kids get hurt. Let him have his fun.

He ran out of time. He should’ve been with him. If he’d’ve been there maybe none of this would’ve happened. They’d still be--

Officers in deep blue uniforms--

An electrical failure--

Transformer blew--the place likely went up in minutes.

They probably didn’t feel much of anything.

He wasn’t there, making his imagination work all the harder--did they cry? Were they together when it happened, holding one another? Did they think of him? It has to have been awful--to feel oneself be torn apart--no matter how quickly it happens--

Something cool pats his face, bringing him almost, but not quite, to consciousness. He feels horrifically nauseous. “Go back to sleep,” says the voice.

“I have to… check on him,” he mumbles.

“Ienzo’s doing much better. His fever broke. You, on the other hand--” A wry chuckle. A sound like woodsmoke.

Smoke? “I should’ve--”

“Nonsense. You took excellent care of him. Now you must look after yourself.”

“He could’ve fallen.”

“Ienzo’s going nowhere.”

Even’s feeling increasingly woozy. “He feels like him. Why did you do this to me?” And then it’s happening, he’s crying again, a sensation that physically hurts. He feels a hand on his back above the blankets.

“Why do you feel you must suffer alone?”

Darkness, for a long time. When he wakes he still feels horrid, but at least things are beginning to sharpen again. His head’s pounding, and his muscles feel like lead. He groans a little when he tries to prop himself up.

“Even?”

His head snaps up; the sudden movement worsens the pain. “You should go, you needn’t see this.”

Ansem looks exhausted. His hair is unkempt, his beard needs trimming, and the circles under his eyes are nearly comical. “You’re too unwell to take care of yourself. I was near Ienzo, so if I’m already infected, no point exposing the others.” He pours Even a glass of water and hands him a few pills. “Your fever’s not so terrifyingly high, but you were quite delirious for a while.”

“I am… aware.” He scowls. He’s so thirsty. The moment he sets down his empty glass, Ansem gets more. He’s dragged a chair to Even’s bedside; it’s here Ansem sits.

“I wish to have… a word,” he says, with difficulty.

“While I’m essentially a captive audience? Not very sportsmanlike, is it?”

“Well quite bluntly otherwise you’d flee. Because you’ve been avoiding it like the plague.”

Even lays back down with a huff.

Ansem scratches his beard. “Kick and scream, I don’t care. We’ll chalk it up to your illness. You’re clearly suffering. Pushing it away isn’t going to  make it any easier. You’re living in a state of quasi-denial where everything’s fine. Everything needn’t be fine, Even.”

“You think this is denial?”

Ansem looks him in the eye. “Yes. I do. The longer you put it off, the more you don’t have to face the fact that your life is forever changed, that your residence in the castle is no longer a temporary one. You have to grieve them, Even. It’s been almost two years.”

He looks up at the ceiling. The dome light, a moth flickering around it agitatedly. “...Has it been that long already?” he asks. “I… hadn’t realized.” He’s again exhausted but can’t find the energy to be angry.

Mostly  because Ansem’s right.

He feels Ansem’s warm, dry hand slide over his. “I do not expect you to be the same. But I would like you to let me help you.”

“What could you possibly do for me?”

“Listen.”

“With all your free time?”

“Even.”

He exhales shakily.

“Bonds can make a heart stronger,” Ansem says. “That’s what you need right now.”

How very like him, to frame it in context with Even’s work. “Where would I even begin?”

“You mentioned that Ienzo feels the same.”

It’s hard to breathe. “...Yes,” he says. “They’re about the same size. He was, rather. My son.” Saying it feels like getting stabbed. It’s easier not to look at Ansem, so he doesn’t.

“I… remember. But he never had an aptitude for the sciences. A gentle soul, that one.”

“Incredibly. Dare I say it, too fragile to last very long. Almost like we were tempting…” He trails off.

“...Fate? Even, I thought you didn’t believe in such things.”

“Ansem, I’m not certain of anything anymore.”

“...That’s quite alright.”

“I had wanted to make things better.”

“It’s not too late.”

“It always will be, for them.” He closes his eyes. “As for me…” He doesn’t know what else to say. “Other than my work, truly…”

“What is there to live for?”

“...I’m frightfully pathetic.”

“No. You’re in pain.” He adjusts his grip on Even’s hand. “Closing yourself off to the world won’t heal your heart.”

“I suppose it won’t.” It’s an emotion he’s unsure of, fragile and pale. “Why is it you care?”

“Even, I’ve known you since university. I’ve seen your brightness, your hope. I know you can find it again.”

“I’m afraid your certainty must be enough for the both of us.”

“I will try my best.”

---

He feels a bit different after the sickness, like he’s shifted a bit to the left. It takes a while to regather his strength, physically and otherwise. He spends this intellectually useless time with Ienzo, in the large library; the boy can’t seem to believe there are so many books. The excitement of it soothes Even. He wishes he could feel the same, that he could go back to the point where he, too, saw so much wonder.

Truthfully, other than his size, Ienzo bears no resemblance to his son. That child was an artful soul, constantly drawing; Ienzo never picks up a marker unless it is to write. That child loved to play; Ienzo would much rather read and seek stimulation more quietly. Were he older, Even thinks, Ienzo might have been a peer to himself. He surely must eventually go to university, to meet more people his age like him. Scientists are poor excuses for friends.

“So that’s him? Cute kid.”

The voice startles him; his heart jolts unpleasantly. He turns and sees a man he can only vaguely recognize, in the castle’s deep blue guard uniform; his short dark hair is slicked back, and a red kerchief covers his collar, breaking protocol for sure. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

The man puts a hand on his hip. “Heard you guys are cooking up a project, and could use the extra help around here.” He sticks out his white-gloved hand. “Name’s Braig. We’ve met.”

Even glances briefly back at Ienzo, who has barely moved. Braig’s glove is a little dirty, and after he shakes his hand he makes a note to wash his own as soon as possible. “Then surely I needn’t introduce myself. That boy over there’s Master Ansem’s ward, Ienzo.”

“Figured. Everyone’s been talking about him.” Braig observes him for a moment. “You’re Ansem’s right hand man, aren’t you?”

“Master Ansem,” Even corrects. “And I’m one of his science officers, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

The man shrugs. “So then why are you on babysitting duty?”

Even takes a breath to compose himself. Braig’s manner is most unbecoming to a supposedly-stoic castle guard. “I assist with the boy’s education,” he says instead.

Braig chuckles. “If you want to call it that.”

He tries to bite down on his temper. “Don’t you need to return to your rounds?” he asks, politely.

He shrugs. “I’m off the clock. Just taking a look at my new digs. Only saw it briefly during orientation, which was a lot longer ago that I want to admit.”

So he doesn’t even have newness as an excuse for this behavior. “I see,” he says distastefully.

“Can I introduce myself to the kid? Don’t want to freak him out if I’m going to be around.”

Even blanches. He hates to admit Braig has a point; Ienzo needs to be familiar with those around him. “...He is rather shy. Don’t be surprised if he simply ignores you.”

Braig shrugs. “Eh, I’ve had worse.” He approaches him slowly. There’s something lazy, almost cat-like, about the way he moves. Even watches him warily. “Hey, kiddo. Whatcha reading? Doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun.”

Ienzo looks up at his assailant with an expression of dull disappointment.

“Name’s Braig. One of the castle guards. ‘Fraid you’re going to be seeing this ugly mug a lot.”

“Okay,” is all Ienzo says. He goes  back to his reading. Braig crosses back over to the door.

“Not a people person, I guess,” he says. “Be seeing you, Even.”

Even bristles when Braig doesn’t use his title. “With all due politeness, if we’re to work together you must be respectful.”

Braig smirks a little. “Sure thing, Doctor. ” When he leaves, his tread is nearly soundless. Even sighs a little out of frustration.

“Ienzo? We must go get some lunch.”

“I’m not hungry,” he says, turning the page.

“You lost weight when you were ill. The last thing we need is for you to get sick again.”

---

“...I admit he’s… a character,” Dilan says, his lip curling.

“Is there no one else?” Even asks. “If this is to be the constant,  I wish for it to be someone who’s… more in line with decorum.”

“Ansem does not seem to mind,” Dilan remarks. He looks pale, the skin under his eyes the color of a bruise. Even’s not sure which cup of coffee he’s on, but he’s also sure he doesn’t want to know.

“I understand the… trepidation,” Aeleus says slowly. He searches through the tome he’s holding slowly. “I worked in tandem with him for some time. Braig is very experienced, and the people like him. That’s not for nothing. Have you truly never met?”

Even feels his face reddening. “Not that I can recall.”

Dilan chuckles. “Perhaps he’ll respect you if you respect him.”

“Of course his labor is valuable.”

“...Not what I said.”

“How are things going?” Even asks instead.

He takes off his reading glasses and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Feels I’m running a fool’s errand,” Dilan admits. “I consulted with the wizard Merlin, as Master advised, yet…” He digs something out of his pocket and sets it on the table between the three of them; it’s a blistered, patinated bit of scrap metal, its edges splintered. “This is all that’s left of my prototype.”

Ienzo hops down from his chair to investigate. He reaches up to the table to take the piece of metal, his arm too short to reach the center of the table.

“No, child, that’s quite sharp,” Dilan says.

“I just want to look at it,” Ienzo says, with a hint of a whine. Aeleus hefts the boy onto his knee. He peers through the curtain of hair at the metal. “Not aluminum.” He pronounces it like “lumininum.” Even corrects him gently.

“No. It’s… it was an alloy,” Dilan says.

He shakes his head. “Needs to be something flexible.”

They are all silent for several moments; Ienzo cocks his head slightly.

Dilan scoffs a little to himself. “The boy’s right. Good on you, Ienzo.”

Ienzo beams at the praise, revealing his missing front teeth--the milk teeth fell out some two weeks prior.

Dilan drums his fingers on the table. “But if not metal, then what?”

Ienzo shrugs. “Master says gummy.”

Even raises an eyebrow. “What, rubber?”

“Gummy,” he repeats, slowly, as if that makes it any clearer.

“Ienzo, we’ve no idea what you’re talking abou--”

He turns red. “That’s what his friend says!” He’s almost yelling. Ienzo’s temper is a new development.

Aeleus rubs his shoulders gently. “Calm down and think about what you need to say,” he suggests.

He’s tearing up, sniffling in frustration. It’s clear Ienzo occasionally has difficulty stringing together his thoughts, especially as he becomes more verbal. “His friend, his friend speaked about it--”

“Spoke,” Dilan corrects.

Aeleus tucks a strand of gray hair behind the boy’s ear. “What about this friend?”

Even’s almost sure the conversation’s meaningless until Ienzo says, “His friend has a star. He’s little, not like me. And he has a…” He shapes something with his hands, something long and thin.

Aeleus offers him a pencil and some graphing paper. “Why don’t you try drawing it?”

The boy begins sketching dutifully, the lines messy. It looks almost like a sword, or a bat, but he adds something to the tip of it, something like--

Even’s heart all but stops, and from the looks on Aeleus’s and Dilan’s faces, theirs do too. “Are you… quite sure of what you saw?” Even asks gently. Ienzo is not a particularly imaginative child, but this seems more plausible than the truth on the paper in front of them.

He nods. “I see… I saw it.”

There, in the horrible fluorescent lighting, is a drawing of a Keyblade.

---

There are so many thoughts going through Even’s mind, he doesn’t know how to keep track of them. He honestly isn’t sure if he feels sick or exhilarated.

They always thought that Keyblades were legend. But considering Ansem’s fascination with other worlds… Has he, privately, tried to contact them?

Is Ienzo merely lying?

The boy is not a liar, but it makes so much more sense if Even believes he is. Well, there’s one simple solution to all this. He may make a fool of himself, but he has to pursue this feeling.

During a break in Ansem’s schedule, he goes to see him. He considers bringing Ienzo too, as a sort of collateral, but Aeleus is in the middle of a biology quiz, and Even knows how busy Ansem gets.

He feels breathless, and sweaty. “I must have a word.”

Ansem’s head snaps up. “My friend! Are you alright? Please, sit.”

He does, sinking first down onto a pile of files before he remembers to remove them. Ansem pours some water from a decanter and hands it to him. Even watches the light refract off of the crystal glass, trying to gather his nerve. “You had Ienzo in on a meeting,” Even says.

Ansem looks more confused than anything. “I never involve him in city work.”

“A visitor, then? Some friend of yours?” He sounds a bit wheezy. “The boy is either… telling tales, or you’ve been up to something.”

Ansem hesitates, and this hesitation tells Even everything he needs to know. “I did not intend for Ienzo to be there, but he just so happened to arrive when--”

 “Who?”

Ansem sighs heavily. It’s a sound of getting caught.

---

Forty-five minutes later, Even has a splitting headache. He may, he reckons, be going completely insane.

Apparently out of the blue one day a mouse king arrived from another world, teleported willy-nilly via something he called a “star shard.” Even does not know how to begin unpacking this. Mouse? Child-sized, sentient, speaking their language? And of course Ansem immediately started asking him about this--the two spent some hours talking about their worlds, the commonalities, the differences. Which of course Ansem kept to himself. Only then the mouse (mouse!) king returned, during one of Ansem’s tutoring sessions with Ienzo. This time he brought books, books from this other world, and some aqueous cubes of material he calls “gummi blocks.” And he was very pleased to tell Ansem he’d become a Keyblade master.

What in the world is going on? Nobody has ever believed Keyblades were real , and here the proof is in the pudding, so to speak. It’s all true, which makes Even feel even more mad; it seems like everything he’s learned is a lie.

In it all, a glint of hope.

Ansem lends him the books. Here there’s more information about light and darkness--well-reasoned studies proving, more than anything, that it’s a whole lot more literal than any of them have ever thought, and provides them with building blocks on how to seek it out in the environment.

The gummi material is exactly as alien as Even thought; immensely mutable, easily replicable. He spends hours subjecting the stuff to tests--extreme heat, liquid nitrogen, stress, impact, gravity. It can hold shape with ease, hardening to become like glass, its texture scrambling to become whatever they urge it to conform to. And it seems to be extremely durable.

“Something flexible,” Dilan says with awe. “This must be what Ienzo meant.”

It seems to be exactly what they need to move forward with their research. Now that he knows he’s not suffering a mental breakdown, the possibilities excite Even, actually make it difficult to sleep at night.

They create something like a pod, with the hope of being able to isolate the light from the darkness. They need something living, to study; they examine mice, reptiles, insects. While these things do seem to carry light and darkness in their own way, they also lack hearts--the real, intangible, metaphysical hearts. The proper thing to do would be to study people. The machine seems to do no harm to the lesser animals, but the moment humanity comes into it, it gets intensely more complicated.

“It will take… quite some doing,” Ansem admits. “You have to create a risk impact statement, and that statement has to pass the board of ethics. And I need it to. I will not have anyone getting hurt. We know so little about these forces.”

“Of course we will obtain informed consent,” Even says. “We merely wish to examine them, and to ask them questions about the more… mythical things. Like bonds, or memories. How do we measure these things? We can only figure it out by gathering data.”

“I warn you, this may take some time,” Ansem says. He crosses his legs, looking towards the machines--Dilan has made two more. “The typical amount of time it takes things to pass the board is six months--something like this? Perhaps longer.”

Even curses his own lack of foresight. He should have drafted something earlier, before they got swept in this nonsense, to avoid these roadblocks. But who, says a small voice inside of him, would really stop them? Who would inspect them? After all, this would all be so harmless. “...Of course.”

“I will try my best to force it past them--but they must carry out their own studies, and observations. The people have a right to know what happens at this castle. Especially if it may-- however nebulously--impact them.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “I’m sure you have other things to pursue in the meantime.”

“I suppose I could… spend some more time on Ienzo’s education. I fear in all this excitement it’s been rather neglected.”

He smiles, but it’s tired. “I’m sure the boy learns much more than you think merely being around you.”

“It was his idea to use the gummi blocks,” Even admits. “I think he intuited their use before we even experimented on them.”

Ansem stares at him. “Is that true?”

“Children often have fresh, blunt perspectives,” he says. He goes to adjust the band in his hair, but again, the elastic breaks against his fingers. “...Blast.”

Ansem chuckles. “If it bothers you so much, cut it.”

“It is rapidly getting to that point.” He takes the band and tries to tie it around the mass. It holds, barely. “As I was saying. Ienzo’s intellect here pairs well with that freshness. He can see things we’re too stubborn to see, in a way far less complex.”

Ansem twirls a pen. “Would it do him good to continue to observe your work? Does he enjoy it?”

Even thinks. “I believe so. It started this way out of necessity--if he’s not with you, he’s with one of us, and this is where we’ve all been.”

“If it’s as harmless as you say… I see no reason why it shouldn’t continue. So long as he still gets sunlight, and the like.”

---

For a while they all slip into a sort of lull. Even takes Ienzo to town with him, hoping to enroll him into some sort of activity that would encourage him to make friends; but the stimuli of the city actually reduces Ienzo to tears, and Even ends up carrying the boy home. It’s strange; Ienzo’s always been able to make it to the library, but the library isn’t in the dead center of town. He puts him to bed, lays a cool cloth over his eyes. “We can try again when you’re ready,” he says softly.

Soon, though, Ienzo disappears again, for more than his usual trip to the town library. Even tries to be more rational about it this time--the boy probably lost track of the hours--and he finds he doesn’t have to go very far. He’s merely in the square, near a blonde teenage boy wearing odd clothing (the fashions these days). He must’ve been bringing Ienzo home. “Ah, there you are. Didn’t I warn you not to wander off, child?” Ienzo gives a small shrug. He turns to the blond boy. “I see we owe you our thanks. We have done our best to raise the boy, since his poor parents are not here to do it.”

The teenager stares down at Ienzo. “Oh, you’re on your own, huh?” Then, to Even--”Sir, I’m looking for a friend of mine. He’s a tall guy dressed kinda like me. Have you seen him?”

Even would not have expected such politeness from someone dressed so. But he knows a gaggle of teenagers gathers on the outskirts of town. “Perhaps I did see him in the outer gardens. Just follow this road.”

“Thank you.” Something about this boy’s face is familiar. Who knows--such kindness and eagerness to protect might make a good guard out of him.

Even smiles a little. “No, thank you, for keeping Ienzo out of harm’s way.” He pauses. “And… well, let’s just say I have a feeling we are destined to cross paths again.”

The boy seems unsure of how to respond. They part on that note. Even notices a sudden vacantness in Ienzo’s eyes.

“How kind of that young man to bring you home,” he says. “Then again, I suppose everyone knows who you are.”

“No,” Ienzo says.

“No, what?”

He looks up. He squeezes his shoulder once. “Nothing. It was by chance. Do you think you’ll meet him again?”

He blinks. “I think anything’s possible. Don’t you?”

---

He’s finally fallen deeply, blessedly asleep one night several weeks later when he’s being woken. Aeleus, urgent and flushed. “We need you,” he says.

“What? This late? Why?”

“It’s Ienzo.”

He doesn’t bother putting on his formal clothes and follows Aeleus in his dressing gown. The air’s cool, dry; it smells like ozone. Even notes that outside it’s storming. They go down to the new lab. Even can taste his heartbeat, knowing all too well that nothing good has happened here. Braig, of all people, is cradling the boy; he’s in an odd state of quasi-consciousness. Even notices for the first time that the man’s wearing an eye patch, one he most certainly did not have several weeks ago. What did that miscreant do? Well, it’s not important now.

“I was doing my rounds down here when I saw him,” Braig begins. “I asked the kid what he was doing but he just stared at me. He was standing over there--” Braig points to one of the machines. Aeleus darts over to investigate. “I dunno. He started breathing all funny and then dropped like a sack of potatoes.” He lays Ienzo down so Even can examine him. His pulse is elevated, and he’s nearly hyperventilating. A finger of panic threatens to overtake Even, but he swallows it down.

“What is it, Aeleus?” Even hedges.

“Come here,” Aeleus says in an odd voice.

“I’m tending to Ienzo, Aeleus, he needs--”

“You really have to see this.”

Braig shakes his head. “I’ll keep an eye on the kid,” he says.

Shakily, Even joins Aeleus. Instantly he can tell what overtook Ienzo; the strong scent of chlorine gas makes his eyes water before he can turn away. The ventilation is good enough that it shouldn’t affect the rest of them now; but for a small child, one good lungful is enough. A hole has been burned clean through the ersatz gummi glass; something’s a molten lump inside, pinkish and still smoldering. More alarming than this, though, are the thin purplish tendrils rising from it.

“Chemical smoke?” Aeleus asks.

Even knows this is not the case. He isn’t sure how he knows--it’s just a certainty deep inside.

The gummi block drips darkness.

---

He tells Aeleus to put on protective gear and seal the block somewhere safe so they can observe it. Meanwhile, he has more important things to deal with. He brings Ienzo to the med bay, decontaminates him in case the chlorine got on any other parts of his body, and starts him on oxygen. He does not need to be intubated, thank the stars, but it takes much too long for his breathing to sound less labored. In all this, the poor boy falls asleep.

He sees Ansem’s face peeking in through the glass panel on the door, but he doesn’t dare intrude until Even gives his approval. He rushes over to Ienzo, pulls him close; Even’s shocked to see a tear run down his face. Once he seems to assure himself the boy’s stable, he turns to Even, danger in his rust-colored eyes.

“A word,” is all he says. A command, not a question.

Even stands and glances over towards the bed.

“Aeleus will keep an eye on him. Come.”

Even follows several paces behind, his heart pounding dread. Once they’re well out of earshot, in the breezeway, Ansem speaks, his back turned to Even, his hands held behind. None of the affable friendliness of their normal interactions--no longer just Ansem, but Ansem the Wise, King of Radiant Garden.

Very well.

“This must not continue,” Ansem says. His voice is soft, and low, barely audible above the rain pattering loudly on the crystal ceiling.

“Do not blame this on me. The boy went down there on his own.”

“Of course he did! He’s a child, a curious one. We’ve done nothing but enable him, and now we’ve put him in danger.” Ansem looks over his shoulder. “I forbid him from observing this research any longer, at least until he’s old enough to understand consequence. I figured that you of all people would know better.”

It feels like a barb, rendering Even’s retort useless. He doesn’t catch his breath for a full moment. His heart is full of ice. “What are we to do, then? Have him under lock and key? Am I to keep twenty-four hour surveillance on him?”

“I mean you need to be careful.”

“I am nothing but careful.” He should feel enraged, but all he feels is a strange, cool distance. “We are all careful with him. Moreover…” A breath. “He’s your son. We did not collectively agree to raise him. If you’re so concerned about his wellbeing, perhaps you should have a more active role in his life. I can’t do everything, Ansem.”

He turns. Even holds firm.

“You prattle on about my recovery, and yet, you’ve no idea of the weight of the responsibility you’ve placed on me.”

“You think I do not know responsibility? ” There’s a sharpness to his tone Even’s never heard before.

“Abstractly, yes, of course. But when faced with it in the flesh, you--”

There’s a splitting crack outside, a crack of thunder; a shockwave cracks the crystal window closest to Ansem, and they both jump. “What on earth?” Ansem spits. “Even--dear god, look out the window.”

The sky is swarming with darkness--luminous pink and violet and black tendrils. “We must get inside.”

“Get Ienzo. Go somewhere safe, all of you. Go. ”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to go out in this?”

“Even, I must see what’s to be done. The people may be in danger.”

He takes a breath. Be careful, he nearly says. “...Alright.”

Ienzo’s conscious when he gets back to the room.

“What’s happening?” Aeleus asks.

“I’ve no idea. The three of us are going down to my lab. There’s--” He feels Ienzo’s eyes on him. “Something’s going on outside. A bad storm. Best keep away from windows. No need to worry.”

Aeleus knows he’s lying for Ienzo’s benefit. “Can you walk?” he asks the boy. “You know what? Here.” He hefts him into his arms. “You’ll soon be too old to be carried around, yes? Might as well enjoy this small luxury.”

They go together, Even carrying the oxygen tank. Ienzo still seems limp, tired, though his eyes betray something else happened down there. What on earth had the boy done? Melted down a gummi block? But how? Nothing Even did to them had that reaction. Something that resulted in a production of chlorine… unless the gas the melting block emitted simply seemed like chlorine? They do not truly know what the blocks are made of, just that they can make themselves into any substance.

And how did it produce darkness in its rawest form?

Ienzo’s staring at him, so he tries to smile. “You, little one, are in a lot of trouble,” he says jovially. “What were you doing in the lab on your own? You know it’s not safe! It’s a good thing Braig found you. You could’ve gotten sick.”

Ienzo says nothing. Again, he’s limp against Aeleus, but his breathing’s not audible and his pulse feels more or less normal, all things considering.

“We will talk about this,” Even says to him sternly. “Once you’ve rested.”

In the lab, they rest the boy on Even’s cot, the one he uses when he’s simply too exhausted to walk all the way back. He tucks the blanket around the boy’s shoulders. “Try to get some sleep.” He sits with Ienzo until the boy’s drifted off. The thunder’s much quieter here, but still, to the listening ear, audible--even through all the stone.

Aeleus wordlessly hands him a cup of coffee and nods his head towards the supply pantry. Even follows him inside and shuts the door most of the way. "Have you any idea what this is?" Aeleus whispers.

"I… almost feel as if I imagined it," Even says in an equally soft voice. "The sky was full of color--of darkness. But I don't know--where would it have come from? We've no idea what so much of it can do--the myths all point to destruction. I was told to come here with you and protect the boy." He feels his lips curl into a sneer. "And of course I must follow orders."

Aeleus sighs. "He blames you?"

"Of course he does. I'm afraid I lost my temper."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't."

"We have to figure out whatever Ienzo was doing," Even says. He fusses with the dry ends of his hair. "Not just for his safety… for our research. And why he decided to do this on his own."

"He likes independence," Aeleus says simply.

"Well. There's plenty of time for him to be independent when he's older--"

"Even?" They hear him call from the other room.

He crosses over to Ienzo; he's fiddling with the oxygen mask, unable to get it off of his face.

"Little one, you should leave that on. You breathed in some nasty business."

He blushes, then admits, embarrassed, "I need the washroom."

"Oh--of course." Even takes it off, points to the door where it could be found. "But it goes on the moment you're through."

They wait for him. Aeleus pulls a puzzle charm out of his pocket and begins working on it. "Can't solve this one. I've been on it for weeks."

"You and your games."

"It keeps the mind limber. You should keep neuroplasticity in mind. We're at the age where we begin to lose such things."

Even looks into his half-drained coffee cup. "I'll ignore what you're implying," he says.

Aeleus chuckles.

It seems like Ienzo's been gone a long time; is his stomach upset? Even debates for a moment or so on checking in. Or--more insidiously--was he overtaken again by faintness? He can't help himself; he knocks on the closed door. "Ienzo? Are you alright?" He hears what sounds like muffled breaths. "You sound like you can't breathe, child." It's the silence that worries him. "I'm sorry, I'm coming in."

He finds Ienzo curled opposite the toilet, rocking a little. If Even hasn't seen this before, he'd figure it does have to do with his breathing. He kneels down next to him. "That was scary, yes?" He says gently. "You're safe now." He flinches away from Even's touch for the first time in a long while. "Ienzo?"

He's sobbing a little, a sound that hurts to hear.

"It's safe here," he reasserts, only to immediately be contradicted by the loudest peal of thunder yet; they both jump, and Ienzo continues to shudder. "It's merely a storm."

It takes a long time for the boy to calm. He's shivering; Even drapes his robe over him, but it doesn't seem to do much good. He wants to go get a blanket, or better, get the boy back to the cot, but he's also unsure of leaving him alone. He's on the verge of asking for Aeleus to get it for him when he hears a small "I'm sorry."

"Oh, child, it's alright."

He shakes his head. He uncurls a little, revealing that he's wet himself.

"No matter. Happens to the best of us. I'll get something clean for you to change into, yes?" Privately, he's concerned; how deeply shaken was Ienzo, in order for this to happen? He goes to prop himself up, only to feel a small hand grab at his. "I promise I'll be right back. Aeleus is nearby. You're safe."

Aeleus does give him an odd look; all Even does is shake his head and press a finger to his lips to tell him not to speak of it.

“I need to go get a few things,” he says instead. “Wouldn’t hurt to check on the situation, either. Perhaps we can go back upstairs, to bed. I’m exhausted. I’m sure you are too.”

Aeleus shrugs. “We’ll be here.”

It seems like a very long walk back upstairs to their residences, but it isn’t. Even’s endlessly troubled; first and foremost to what is obviously a trauma response in the boy, and also to the unearthly cataclysm going on outside. Never, as long as he’s been alive, can he recall ever experiencing something like this. Radiant Garden is prone to violent outbreaks of wind, but only in the winter. Climate change is the only thing he can think of, but they moved away from harsh fuels long ago--before he was even born. And truly carbon dioxide cannot cause this.

And why is this happening only after they’ve had contact with an outside world?

Even gathers some dry pajamas and a blanket from Ienzo’s bedroom, and one for himself and Aeleus while he’s at it. He hopes that, wherever Dilan is, he’s safe. Dilan may be occasionally foolhardy, but at least he’s practical. He chances a glance out the windows in his quarters. To his immense relief, the sky is no longer dark in that abnormal way--the rain now seems normal. But is it only temporary?

Where is Ansem in all this?

He returns back to the others. “Things seemed to have calmed,” he says to Aeleus. Ienzo still appears to be hiding in the bathroom, door cracked slightly. “I’m sure you’d rather be in your own bed,” he adds, for Ienzo. He hands him the dry clothes through the crack and gives him privacy. Aeleus bobs his head towards this, and Even just shakes his head. After a moment Ienzo emerges, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Shall we go?” he asks the child. He nods.

Even is finally able to put the child to bed, and insists he wears the oxygen, at least until morning.

“I know it’s not very comfortable, but humor me,” he says. “You’ll feel better for it.”

Ienzo clings tightly to his small stuffed cat, a relic from his parents’ home. “It hurts,” he says, his voice muffled through the mask.

“What does?”

“The… the noise,” he says. “I can--” He glances towards the window.

“The thunder?” It becomes a little clearer; he’s sensitive enough as it is, all of the noise must have been internalized as pain. “It’s rain now, little one. Hear how it’s letting up?”

“I… I heard …”

“What did you hear?”

“Someone was angry. Screaming.”

“In the lab?”

He shakes his head. “In the sky?”

The darkness? Has the boy sensed it? Is it possible? More likely, this is part of that same trauma.“Is it still happening?” Even asks.

“No,” the boy admits.

“Perhaps you had a nightmare. You know how those bleed into reality sometimes.”

“It wasn’t ,” he insists, with more anger. Then, “Darkness.”

Even exhales. “Let me look into this for you. It’s possible you’re sensitive to it. In the meantime, you have to rest. Things will be clearer in the morning.”

“Believe me?” Ienzo asks.

“Of course I do, little one.” He squeezes his hand. “And should you need to get out of bed, you can take the mask off by pulling this tab.” He stands.

“Can you leave the lamp on?” he asks.

He tries to smile. “...Certainly.”

He knows he needs to sleep as well. It’s getting light out at this point, and the covers of his bed feel heavy, nearly alien. Even drifts for a while, fighting the worry that’s swelling in his chest, only to be fully roused by the soft creak of the door opening. He huffs. “Can’t a man have an hour’s worth of peace?” he asks.

Ansem is standing there, soaked to the skin, his red stole hanging limply against his jacket. “I apologize,” he says. “I wouldn’t ask for your assistance if it weren’t warranted.”

Even could do without his tone. “What is it now?”

“Dilan and Braig found a boy--a young man--in the square. Seems to be injured and reeling.”

“And? Can’t he go to the hospital like everyone else?”

Ansem frowns. “We believe he arrived with the storm.”

Despite himself, it all makes sense--he read however nebulous about darkness’s ability to transmute, to transport. “I will dress and be there shortly.”

The young man’s about eighteen, and unconscious. They found him facedown in a pool of rainwater in the square. One of them has changed him into dry clothing. Braig and Dilan hover nearby; Dilan exhausted, Braig vaguely pained. Even examines him and notes that aside from some a few nasty scratches that require stitches, he seems to be alright. His hair isn’t gray like Ienzo’s, but a much more violent shade of silver; his eyes, when Even opens them, are a glistening gold. But the young man won’t wake. “Well he has no brain injury,” Even says. “No fever. I’m not sure why he won’t rouse. Was he conscious at all?”

Ansem sighs. “But for a moment.”

“Did he say anything? Did he give a name?”

He looks towards the young man. “Xehanort.”

[abthepoet]

All my friends are dead.

Something strange is trending in my life.

All my friends die.

At the beginning of my sophmore year in college, my roommate from freshman year died tragically in a single vehicle car crash. Her name was Allison Lynam. We called her Blake. She was sassy and funny and I wish I would've taken more time to know her.

The rain was torrential the night she died. I swear I've never seen it rain that hard ever again in my life. She drove to the store along Highway 36 in Long Branch,NJ. She had off campus housing that year and had to use the highway often. The road was terribly flooded the night she died. Im told she hydroplaned, spun, and T-boned the driver side smack into an electrical pole. Her family still decorates it.

At that very same moment, in my dorm room nearby, I was watching TV when the lights suddenly flickered and dimmed. A brown out.

I had no idea but that was my friend crashing into a pole and dying. She was 19 years old.

I know this because that accident happened near the mall. That accident killed the power to nearby businesses.

I later found out that the road she died on was so badly flooded, the police intended to close it. Why they didnt get to it in time, I'll never know. Maybe that's fate.

Then there was Jessica Blain. Jessica Blain was a firecracker of a human being. She was 100% unmistakable. One of the loudest, funniest, most loyal people and friends I have ever met. She was also an incredibly gifted singer and I was lucky enough to have Chorus with her. We, along with a small group of friends, founded a new greek organization on our campus, Alpha Xi Delta. We were paired up as Twins. (you can't have Bigs & Littles when you're just starting the Family Tree). We named the family we formed Fuck Up Your Shit. Because that's what we'd do for a friend. I miss her laugh most of all. It was loud and unapologetic. She was there for me, supportive, and encouraging without me ever having to ask. The night I officially finished college we all went out to the local gay club, The Colosseum. I got wasted, of course. But Jess was the person who when I shouted 'I have to pee' on the ride home, she stopped and knocked on strangers doors and asked to let me use their bathrooms. Nobody said yes so she held my hand while I peed on a fence instead. I remember the last time we spoke. She was at a concert with a mutual friend. We hadn't spoken much since I graduated, she was still in school.

She died in her dorm room bed on Halloween as a result of asphyxiation during an epileptic seizure. She was 20 years old. The news was broken to me that very same Halloween night as I floated along in NY on a concert cruise. The World/Inferno Friendship Society decided to host Hallowmas, their annual event, on a boat this year. Nothing like being trapped on a musical boat while you grieve. I had messaged her AIM late that night to say hi. She had an away message up. I may have sent a message to a dead person. I miss her friendship more than I realize sometimes.

That brings us to James Padden. James was a warm, snuggly bear of a guy who always tried to do the right thing and let me steal his hoodies. He insantly became my best friend in a Stepbrothers-esque manner. I met James working overnights at Wawa in Leonardo, NJ. I forget how it started now, but we were standing in front of the deli and I think I tossed him a broom or he already had one. . . I cant remember now.. . . but he just took one look at me with that mischievous little twinkle that I quickly returned and we instantly began sword fighting with our brooms. Like two little boys playing pretend and having a ball. He was sweet and silly and kind. I needed a ride, and he loved to drive. Our first winter as friends, we went out doing donuts in the snow. I barely knew him, but I felt safe. We smoked a ton of weed and had so many adventures trying to procure more. One time, we got so high driving to a Dropkick Murphys concert in NY we kept going in circles, missed almost the entire show save for the last 3-5 numbers, and had a blast. I can barely remember the night, but I remember laughing hard in that car. No one could talk to me like James. We were both insecure being chubby kids and adults, but so charismatic and grandiose that I sometimes thought we were the only two who would put up with listening to each others wild ideas and ridiculous banter. We would smoke joints and take adderall and talk about everything and anything. I miss the safety and closeness I felt with him. We were always 100% platonic, but we could nap together, I could walk into his house and jump on him in bed and wake him up. Then we would cook ourselves a breakfast feast and hit the beach. He taught me to always take the back roads. I gave him advice on the ladies. He taught me about fixing cars. I helped shave his back. He called his new pick up truck, a pick'um up truck. We could wax philosophical all damn day and not get sick of each other.

It wasnt just driving he loved, it was going fast. Like so many young white men, he had tendency to be a little reckless. The universe gave him a pass only so many times.

I'll never forget when he got his motorcycle. It was the last time I saw him. It was a bright green crotch rocket. He loved lime green. I was doing yoga in the living room when I heard this obnoxious engine rev down my street. I asked myself, who the hell is making this noise?! And it was James, grinning from ear to ear with a matching helmet on his shiny new toy.

before he left I said, 'you die on that thing, I'll bring you back to life and kill you." I remember giving him this very long and intentional hug and not knowing why I felt compelled to hang on.

When he left and hopped back on the bike, I felt compelled again and took a video of him riding away from my driveway until he was entirely out of sight.

That's my very last memory of him alive. James Padden died on Thanksgiving five days after his 25th birthday. He went out for a joyride on his bike before dinner, opened up to 100mph around a curve where he couldn't see a car pulling out around the bend in time. They called a medevac, but he died on scene. I loved James dearly and I regret drifting apart after we both left Wawa and I started a new relationship. He had stuff too, but in hindsight it never seems important.

Then there's JB. I will always remember JB for his kindness and generosity. The very first time I finally worked up the nerve to go to a poetry slam, I was alone and terrified. I had no idea what to expect. JB was the very first person to turn around, introduce himself, and welcome me. He made me feel like I belonged. Years later, when I won the title of Grand Slam Champion, he immediately offered to help coach me for national competition. Except, I didn't see the messages and left them unanswered, which I deeply regret. When I started hosting my own open mic a few years after that, JB would be one of the only people to consistently come support the show both as an audience member and participant. It was at a pizza joint and he would sometimes buy me food when I had no money. He wrote beautiful poems about his two young daughters and how much they inspired him. JB always tried to make people laugh but you could tell he carried a sadness. I did not get details, but from what I have gathered he made a choice to end his life. I wish I would have gotten closer to him and appreciated him more as a friend and person. I wonder if he felt no one cared about him and I feel like I should've let him know more.

Which brings us to Crys. Crystopher Anthony Diaz was a Scorpio with a big heart and a big personality. I met him on Myspace back in the day and started Web camming. We became friends and eventually fell into this gray area of friends, together, but not. It wasn't long before I was spending days at his place, killing hours at a time downloading music, making Wawa runs, and smoking weed with his roommate at the time, Syd. You know, the whole reason I worked at Wawa was Crys suggesting it. And Wawa is the reason I met James. Crys was unlike anyone I'd ever met. He was poetic and artistic and loved animals, especially pit bulls. He loved to draw and write and had this very out loud style that favored Earth tones. He taught me about fashion and insisted on getting dressed even if it was 1am and we were just going to Wawa because you never know who you might see. We would buy new clothes at Walmart and have photo shoots. That boy drank his weight in coffee daily. If it's one thing I'll always remember him for, it's the dancing. Dancing was a passion of his and always used to talk about wanting to form a dance crew. Eventually, we ended up living together for four years. My first apartment was with him in this piece of shit duplex rented to us by a slumlord in Keansburg,NJ. My relationship with him was always defined by our Aries/Scorpio dynamic and he never let me forget it. His birthday was October 30th, mischief night. One time, after we had moved into a new place, we decided to get revenge on our old downstairs neighbor by taking a finished lobster carcass and throwing it on his lawn. . . . . . . Keansburg had a terrible stray cat problem. 😁

I have so many memories with Crystopher. Unfortunately, towards the end of our relationship things became too tumultuous. We had too much unresolved baggage and trauma to find a healthy place emotionally together. We were so financially strained for a time we hardly ate. And then when he met his new girlfriend Laura, she introduced him to her good friend, Roxy. As in Roxcicet. aka Blues. Neither of us knew what that even was at the time. But he sure learned quick. He started using them pretty frequently as time went on, and things only got more complicated. My mental health took a nose dive. By the time I moved out our relationship was trash. I basically left. At the time, I didnt have a choice. things had gotten so bad between us, the money, the using . . . we didn't act like friends anymore.

I saw him a couple times at his new place but that was years ago. Since then, he went through a lot, including homelessness and more struggles with addiction to opiates. He reached out to me and sent me a message apologizing for everything a couple years back. I never responded. I was afraid I would let him back into my life and let the all the problems back in. I didnt trust where he was at in his life. We lost touch and stopped speaking.

His ex, who used to live with us and became my friend, messaged me and told me he died a few days ago. He was 35. I'm still waiting for information, but it may have been drug related. I'm not even sure where I'm at with how I feel. I know why we stopped talking. It was the right thing to do at the time. But he didnt deserve to die so young, having spent the last god knows how many months homeless. It's fucking with me so hard because we never resolved anything. I loved this person so fucking much and we never made peace. Of everyone I've lost, he was the closest to me. I've had a lot of people die on me but none that I lived with and shared a life with. I have more memories with him than I can handle and while I know we hadn't spoken in years and why, I still wish I would've said something. Done something. Yes, i needed healthy boundaries but he needed somebody. when is being firm too firm? If we would've helped, could it have been different? But we didn't want to help at the time, you try to be tough and draw a line. Be firm. Not let yourself be taken advantage of. But is that a defense? Did that defensiveness leave a human being who's head i used to scratch until he fell asleep out in the cold to get sicker and die?

What am I supposed to learn from all this Universe? Why do you take my friends so young and so tragically? I'm only 35, I'm too young to have this much loss.

Because these are just the major players I've lost. It doesnt include my cousin Jared, who died being reckless on a motorcycle at 21 two years ago. I was 15 when he was born. I loved that baby, he used to bite my nose. But his family lived far, so I rarely saw him growing up. Last time I saw him was at my grandfather's funeral. He didn't remember me and the nose biting.

And then there's Marcos who we used to chill with. He worked delivery for our favorite chinese food place. He was a nice kid who lived with his grandparents. We would get food, smoke weed, hang out a little. Even used to buy it off him for a while. Eventually he got into the opiates too, he even wound up being good friends with Crys and being Blue buddies. But eventually Marcos died from an opiate overdose. He was in his mid twenties.

I didnt want to include Ricky because he was more of an acquaintance for me, he was more my partners childhood friend. But god damn, in the time I knew Ricky that kid was a riot. He was loud and funny and definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. Drugs took him too.

Thanks for reading all this if you've made it this far. It's taken me about two hours to type this out on my phone. but i needed to. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[bergens-adventure-tours]

First Impressions

Europe is simply beautiful.  The colours of the quaint little streets that are filled with so much history in every detail; A uniqueness that can never be replicated.

My first impression of Hildesheim has definitely been filled with pure excitement and awe by the new surroundings; and while this still continues today as I wander the streets to get groceries, to visit Doug in the older part of the city, to going to the shops on the other side of town (which is only 2.5km away), I’ve been able to observe and progressively understand this new way of living.  

The town The town itself is seriously amazing.  As I’ve mentioned in my first post and on social media, I’m living in a small city called Hildesheim, located in Lower Saxony (Northern Germany).  My apartment is in one of the newer parts of town, but it still has that quaint and colourful vibe.  My place is only a 5-10minute walk from school, which has been an amazing change from the 50+min. drive I have to take to BCIT every day.  Everything here is so close! You’re at most a 25-30min walk from wherever you need to be.  So I think it’s fair to say that these past 3 weeks have already collectively made up for the lack of movement during my 3 years at BCIT…

There’s so many cute cafés and restaurants and shops which have been really fun to check out.  Definitely already found some favourites, which I’ll talk about in future posts!

One of my favourite walks has been to Doug’s house. The street he lives on is one of the two streets that survived the bombs during World War II, so he is currently living in a house that was built in 1511.  There’s cobbled stone streets everywhere (some which are more fun than others for biking down…), slanted houses, old brick and woodwork, so many unique doors, and beautiful garden spaces all around the buildings.  There’s lakes and forest paths all around the outskirts.  Everywhere I go feels like a new discovery, even when it’s the same street I walk down every day.

The people Honestly, my first impression of the people has been nothing but positive.  Everyone has been so kind, welcoming, and super helpful; and although English isn’t as common as I was told, they still try as much as possible to accommodate, no matter what their level of English is. They’re also very modest, in the way that every time I’ve asked “Sprechen sie Englische?” (do you speak English), about 80% have said a little bit, 15% have confidently said yes, while the other 5% don’t speak it at all – But as soon as that 80% begin to speak, they quite often have more than decent English, and are able to help with almost no problems of communication between the two of us!

Transportation It’s a whole new way of getting around for me which I’ve come to really enjoy.  You never feel like you’re in a rush to get anywhere (except when you’re running late for a train…).  Everyone walks or bikes around town for everything, and what would seem like forever of a walk for back home, seems silly to want to drive to here (even if it’s the EXACT same distance).  It’s made me think a lot about how I live daily back home and how much I’ve convinced myself I need to rely on a vehicle for simple things… I may be bringing home some new habits…

Walking and biking are definitely the most common.  I’ve yet to take the bus around town, because honestly, often it’s faster to just walk.

The train system between cities is also really great! (but make sure you translate the messages on the boards RIGHT AWAY… or else you’ll probably miss your train… because their station was switched…something I’ll definitely tell you all about another time, along with information I’ve gathered about the train systems here!).

Shopping Okay, specifically grocery shopping has been a huge switch for me.  There’s no such thing as buying in bulk, owning a freezer that ISN’T a tiny box in your fridge is unheard of, a separate floor to ceiling closet we like to call a pantry to store food? Nope. Not a thing either. Space is much more limited in most European homes, meaning groceries you purchase are only meant for that week (maybe even only that day…). So when you show up to the grocery store purchasing more than one loaf of bread because you’re going to keep some in the freezer for later on top of all your fruits and veggies, you can guarantee you’re going to be holding up the line. Oh yeah, and the cashiers are LIGHTNING fast when they scan through your items! You bag your own things, so keeping up is near impossible, and by the time you’ve bagged half your things and paid, the things the person behind you is purchasing is now mixed in with yours… it’s like a game you have to master.

Which is another thing, EVERYONE carries their own bags for groceries, which I think is absolutely wonderful! Definitely inconvenient at times when you’re already out but didn’t pack an extra bag with you. But I love it because it trains you to always be mindful of your bag usage while eliminating the need for plastic grocery bags.  It’s something we try to encourage back home, but here it feels more enforced.

The prices are also deceiving…being in euros, you think you’re spending only $20 on groceries but you’re actually spending $31.  I still haven’t quite figured out if the prices are cheaper, comparable, or more expensive as a whole, but I think for the most part things are relatively comparable in price – you’re definitely not finding big bags of anything to last you a month though...

Shopping as a vegan though…I’ve been in dreamland.  I know back home there’s many vegan options of things in the grocery store, but when moving to a smaller town in a different country, I definitely wasn’t sure what to expect… and when I went shopping the first time, it was definitely overwhelming and I felt like I was going to have to survive off just quinoa and sautéed veggies. But let me tell you!! I’ve found so many great vegan alternatives and really tasty snacks (later on I’ll do a post about “travelling as a vegan,” but on the topic of shopping and first impressions, I felt this was important to include), but I can happily say that I’m not living off a stereotypical University student diet of instant noodles, bread, cereal, pizza and peanut butter (except for the bread… bread consumption may have increased…).

A few other surprises:

The weather? If you thought Vancouver weather was strange: visit Hildesheim… within a single day we experienced (in this order): blue skies, down pouring rain with wind storms, sunny with fluffy clouds, intense winds with sun, intense winds with rain, black clouds, white clouds, spitting rain, sun, down pouring rain, cloudy, AND THEN SNOW!  It’s changing constantly, and you’re a fool to not prepare for all for seasons when walking out the door. (Climate change is real guys).

Paying for water! Okay, I was already pre-warned about this one, but it still blows my mind. I’m going to leave it with this meme my boyfriend found which perfectly sums it all up. 

Pedestrians do NOT have right of way. Don’t worry, I didn’t learn this the hard way – but it’s definitely something I’ve noticed when it comes to crossing streets, cars will NOT stop for you at a cross walk, so crossing smaller streets that are filled with cars parked half way on the side walk, you need to always be extra careful when looking around the corners.

 Sundays are for hiding at home. When our friends said everything is closed on Sundays, they mean EVERYTHING is closed on Sundays. So when you’re out of food on a Sunday because you forgot to shop on Saturday, you MIGHT be lucky to find a coffee shop on the other side of town who closes on Mondays instead.

It’s been only 3 weeks since I arrived in Germany, but I already have this feeling of being at home.  It’s a strange feeling to explain, and I don’t quite know whether it’s the town, being here with my boyfriend, or having been excited about moving out for the first time – but everything just feels strangely (and wonderfully) familiar and comfortable. I don’t have a single bad thing to say about it, and every day just makes me more and more excited to be here. I can’t wait to share my adventures with you all.

Until next time…

Stay passionate and curious, Hunter♡

03/20/2019

[letsgetfreecar]

Apply Free Cars For Low Income Family Program

You can be eligible for a free car even though this might seem too good to be true. A car is considered one of God's best creations. For families with no income, they're not often the cheapest. Government welfare programs provide cars for households keeping in mind the utility of the automobile.

Start by looking for organizations that will help re-establish you on the road as well as charities. Your eligibility may be based on whether you are a student with disabilities, a veteran, or you obtain medical assistance. Governments and non-government organizations have developed programs to give low-income families free cars, as cars are becoming a standard and essential utility in society. These programs give away free cars to families in need. It's a sense of joy for a Family to have an automobile.

As a result, it makes transportation more accessible and boosts a person's social status. A variety of Car Programs are available in the United States to help low-income families meet this need. To meet this requirement, low-income families can take advantage of car plans across the nation. Compared to well-off households, low-income households are not faced with the same financial hardships.

For low-income families, it is possible to buy a quality vehicle at an affordable price. However, there are requirements. The Free Car Program is open to applicants who provide valid documentation. Many charities can provide low-income families with reliable transportation because of the generosity of donors. What launched the free car program for low-income families with the help of local car donation companies and non-profit organizations.

Get a free car now: These days, cars aren't a luxury but a necessity. Are you prepared to state why you are interested in a free car program when you apply? If we offer to give you a car for free, please tell us what you will do with it. The Campaigns like Free cars for low-income families encourage them to supply cost EMI loans. These are donated cars for poor people.

You may get in contact with your neighbourhood car dealership to avail of this strategy. They will provide you with a car later to pay for a vehicle in a small monthly Installment. The complimentary car charity program uses the car that families do not require. It uses the tax reform laws, which permit taxpayers of the US to write-off their taxes should they choose to donate used cars. It comes up as a win-win scenario for both families.

There are tons of charities Promoting Free cars for Student Loans, Free care for veterans Program, Free Cars for Single Mothers, and entirely free cars from the Authorities Campaign. Where Car donation Programs give you new or used, however, provide the without defects and trusted car prices.

Before discussing the procedure to apply for free car programs for needy families, it's required to know the purpose and eligibility behind complimentary auto programs for low-income families.

How to Get Free Cars For Low Income Family

The complimentary car that a family receives is a classic used car offered by yet another Family. This does not imply that they are useless products. All the cars undergo servicing completed by licensed technicians until the automobiles go for the charity program.

Free cars for Families is one way of boosting the automobile industry and setting vehicles to use. Many Car Dealers misguide the purchaser and supply cars add nonrefundable guarantees to the client, loans. Families need to understand every facet of the vehicle before taking it—many times, automobiles situated in toilets donate together BMW Porsche.

Grants for Low-Income Families to Buy a Car

Either an individual can look up free cars for low-income families, or if a household still wants to purchase a brand new automobile, various charity programs also make sure to associate with local dealerships and provide discounts on new cars.

The free cars provided to low-income families are not new vehicles but vehicles available by their principal owner. A variety of dealerships also offer no-cost EMI applications to be sure you can cover your automobile ins simple to pay instalments without charging any interest. Some Donation Programs provide care for low-income Families at no interest Loans in addition to the total cost of the car also low from market prices. All these Donation Programs push Families to Live a Better Life.

Compared to get a car from the dealership, that's Safe. Some families have income and can not afford a vehicle no matter how low the price of the car is. Individuals who can afford a car finds the idea of obtaining a car absurd. While the free car is a car, certainly not, it has to be considered a useless item.

The individuals who love around you do not have a privilege or illness to get a car or may alter the car just because they get tired. All families can get free if they can prove the circumstances and income they face. Do not try to scam because the system is too powerful to find you out. Cars that are offered by these programs can be a fantastic deal for many and are fully operational. It is also possible to find a free car, but you have to pay for insurance and monthly Services Price.

Free cars to low-income families, permits for low-income families to buy a car. If you don't meet the criteria, supply papers to prove they don't attempt to fit indoors. This job is a punishable action, and you go to jail or even pay a fine. Either somebody could lookup for free cars for low-income Families, or if a household still wants to purchase a brand-new car, most of us know the value of the automobile, especially for the assistance it gives to us.

Such car apps keep the marketplace occupied, increasing trade actions, increasing the number of tasks in auto service, and so the series proceeds almost endlessly. A car can alter a Family's fiscal problems. When you are working somewhere, that's remote, getting public transportation isn't such easy. Enough discussed the element of those car programs, let us proceed to consequences & its purpose on income households.

Charity program partners with local dealerships and offers discounts on automobiles. The dealer may also offer no-interest EMI programs to make it easier for you to pay for your car in instalments without paying any interest. There is also the possibility of working at a distant business or a factory. It has helped them grow their businesses to have cars for free as an all-purpose track.

For every day, timely delivery of goods and services, you will need good transportation management. Many small businesses run by families depend on transportation for their success. You have a greater possibility of gaining work and improving prosperity if your profession is travel-related. Who also simplifies the household situation.

In America, automobile donation programs provide the car to people in need. A number of these programs offer fully functional, flaw-free vehicles that are a fantastic buy for most. You can drive to the supermarket, bring your child to the doctor, leave and pick up your children from school, go to work, shop, or go on vacation

[jepleurs-icry]

My Life, My Mess, My Legacy Part 3

This chapter is perhaps the hardest to write because of how much I invested in this relationship.

Having had two previous relationships that went sour, I was much more aware of how this person behaved. Not just what he said, but how they acted.  In a way, I was leery of getting into another relationship. In fact, I went back to the singles dances once a month and joined a mixed soft ball league .  A fun league to enjoy a sport and make new friends. A social person I am not.  I am introverted, have way too much "empathy" and I am not a person who is well liked for some reason.  Why? I don't know; it was like that in school. People didn't know me, but they had a judgement of me.  Being unpopular was a way of life.  I really did not care. I had a lot of pride in me.  This was because "our" natural family had been split apart, and we were made fun of at school.  My pride came from my thinking that my family did nothing wrong except be poor.  It wasn't my fault.  It was something that we had no control over. So, to continue on, this pride made me tough, indifferent to what others thought of me.  I did not care.  If they could not take the time to talk to me, or want to be friends, even though I tried, I let it go and observed others but always from afar. The bullshit that people say to each other, boasting and bragging and back stabbing made me stronger.  I didn't want to be like them.  I grew up always observing others.  And I heard a lot of things that people would say, and totally behave another way. So, I enjoyed playing softball, that summer, it was fun! I was not an "A" player, more like a "C" player. But it was fun! But, it was at a singles dance one night, my girlfriend and I were doing a line dance, and I could see this man standing near the bar, but kinda off to the side a little.  He kept staring at me nearly all night. Time went on for awhile, and a few months passed some more, and the next dance I went too, I did not see that man at all.  I kinda forgot about him. I saw him playing on another softball team that summer or spring.  1995 I believe.  My girlfriend would come and watch the games sometimes and she knew I was a tad lonely, so she called out to this man and said something to him.  I think she told him he had a nice ass.  He laughed. I ignored him, as most of the guys there were looking to meet someone or they already had their significant other. At the next singles dance, he was there, and my girlfriend told him he could come sit with us.  But I said no, the seat next to mine was taken.  Although it wasn't; I wasn't prepared to have a jackass sit next to me all night. But, it turned out he seemed to be a nice guy, loved to talk and laugh.  He did talk a lot.  He told me he was a recovering alcoholic and was sober for about 6 months.  He was an alcoholic all his life and had learned it from his Dad. I was very careful, as drinking was not something I wanted in my life, although I did drink on weekends like at a dance or a dinner party.  He would talk and talk.  About, how going to AA had helped him so much. He had a better understanding of how to work out problems without using alcohol.   He had amends to make as well, with his children, family members, co-workers, etc.  He wanted to be a better person. It took me 2 months before we had our first kiss.  He would come over to my place in the evening and we would have ice tea outside.  And, he would talk about his life.  All of it.  I listened to every story he had to say about his family, his Mother and Father, brothers, his ex-wife, his children, his disease (alcohol). Eventually after about one year, the next softball season came upon us and we joined the same team.  He became a popular and was well liked by all.  Especially the ladies. the guys were jealous of him.  He liked to brag about his sport's skills, and about his AA recovery.  That was fine, but hearing it all the time it becomes an Ah-ha moment. Without having good problem solving skills in life, a person does not know how to find solutions to their everyday challenges.  An alcoholic cannot find a way to resolution, therefore drinking is the solution. Eventually we

became a couple.  Slowly, we talked and got to know each other.  I was not sure I liked everything about him.  He used to "spit".  I told him to stop that and use a kleenex, it was gross! He used to swear, which I hated, I asked him to stop doing that too.  This was his old alcoholic behavior talking.,.,  Gradually those things went away.  He worked on himself.  I was proud of him, but still cautious. He was a smoker, and I was not.  He never smoked around me, but he said he was willing to quit, (and I know that's really hard).  He went on the patch at first it helps you to quit.  But he cheated. He would smoke with the patch. Finally after a few months he said he manged to quit for good.  Or so he said. The patch helped him not get the cravings. One day, he was out at the mall, we were living together by then, it had been a year, so I was good with us living together.  That day, I decided to go to the mall to the get something at the drug store.  The mall had a food court and he would meet his AA buddies there, have coffee, and do lotto scratch tickets. When I got to the mall, I finished my shopping and was at the cash and saw him sitting with one of his buddies, doing a scratch ticket and smoking! So much for telling me he quit!  He lied.... I hated liars.  I went over and confronted him.  I was calm, but shaking inside.  I told him I didn't like liars and I didn't want to see him again.  I walked back to my apartment. I don't remember if it was the same day or the next day in the early evening he knocked on my door.  He said he was sorry he lied.  I couldn't help what else he lied about.  He asked me to forgive him and would really quit smoking and never lie to me again. That was not true.  There were many times, he lied about things.  I think it had to do with being so used to lying to his family about his drinking and hiding things, it was second nature to him. But...I was tired of being alone.  I enjoyed his company. I had grown fond of him so I gave him a 2nd chance. Eventually, we took a trip to Kelowna, BC to visit some friends that lived there.  We stayed at a beautiful bed and breakfast.  We fell in love with this small town. Later the following year, we decided to move out there because we thought it was beautiful.  So that August, we moved to Kelowna in 1997. I found part time work at the Real Canadian Super Store, and he was on disability for his back, since he had had a couple of surgeries on his back.  When we moved to Kelowna we had to quit our jobs, but for him he pretended to have back issues so he could get long term disability for 2 years. I got tired of him not working and being home all day.  He started whining about things because he had no car, as I was using it to go to work.  We moved to Richmond the following year, cause I wanted to work full time and in Kelowna full time jobs that pay well are scarce.  After we moved, he was still on disability. He could not find work.... He still lied about things.  During that year in  1999, he found a job being a sales rep for an artificial plant company, that would sell plants to restaurants, or commercial offices. One day he took me by surprise, he said he went to the GM dealer to buy a used van so he could carry the plastic plants around in it, as these plants were quite large.  But I really didn't want to be in debt for a van, which meant another 320.00$ a month. In the long run, no one would buy any plastic plants so he never made a sale. But, we still had the van to pay for.  After 2 years his disability ran out, and there was no more money coming in from his side. In the year 2000, in the month of July, he sat me down in the kitchen and told me we had to move back to Montreal, since he could not find a job in BC. I was devastated. He also said we had to file for bankruptcy because he could not pay rent or insurance any more.  He had zero money coming in.  We were married by then, back in Kelowna we had the Minister come to our house and we had a very small wedding in our living room. So, I would be dragged into bankruptcy too.  He

told me he would take the van and drive back to Montreal with two of our dogs.  I would fly down in a couple of weeks with the other small dog. It was a very difficult period.  I had to give my convertible back to the bank as we could not afford to keep both vehicles.  I was furious, I resented him and what we would have to go through.  I had never been a person who had bad credit. Once he was in Montreal he found a place for us to live, and he did find work almost right away.  We went to a solvency company and declared bankruptcy.  I was ashamed, humiliated, angry and embarrassed all at the same time.  I blamed my husband for having to put us through this. It was easy for me to find a job a couple of weeks after, we moved back to Montreal.  Between the two of us we wanted to rebuild our lives, so we started to invest in RRSP'S.  In 2 years we had enough for a down payment and moved to the suburbs of the suburbs. It was a really nice house, with an outdoor pool, a huge yard, and a Master bedroom downstairs with a private bathroom.  I loved it and we were happy for awhile. After about 6 months of being in the house, my husband became depressed.  His boss was "grinding" him, and there was conflict at work.  This made him grumble about everything he had to do around the house.  He lost interest in me. I encouraged him to write up a new resume, and start looking for another job.  So he did that and within 2 months he found something else, and quit the job he had. His behavior around me did not improve.  I felt him pull away.  Not sure if it was the depression or he just got tired of me.  It was 9 years we were together.  He felt broken, tired. We ended up selling our house and moving back to the West Island to be closer to our work.  The relationship was ending I could tell. We lived maybe 1 year in the new house and we decided to split up.  I moved out into a small townhouse and we split the little money that was left over from the sale. During this 6 month separation, I thought he would really look at what he wanted in life, at our relationship.  I thought he would work on "us", but it didn't happen. Instead; he flew to Hawaii for a softball tournament, where he met another female player called Louis. He knew her from other teams and they hooked up in Hawaii. At one point, I wanted him back, as I still loved him and I was heart broken that all of this happened.  So we tried re-connecting.  He thought he could have her and me at the same time.  I said no.  I said it is better for us to get a divorce now. He drew up the divorce papers and they were signed I think in 2005 or 2006.  The last time we were together and he left for the last time, I walked around the apartment feeling empty.  It was like the ghost of him was still there.  I went from room to room feeling his presence.  It was an awful feeling. It took me a long time to get over him. I'm not perfect.  I was hard on him, to push him to get that other job, to try to get him out of that depression.  Once he was apart from me, he found his joy back.  I could tell. For me, I decided to move to Ontario in early 2007.  Fourteen years later I was still in Ontario.  It was the year of 2012 that I realized I no longer had sad thoughts about me missing him.  I finally was free too, and went back to college to learn something new. I found a new career in medicine and loved it. After 5 years my joy had come back to me as well.  Since then, I am happy, working, almost retired but happy.  I have everything I need and want.  Single yes, but I have good friends that know me and know my heart. That's all I need. There probably will never be another man in my life.  I think 3 was enough.  At least now, if I create a mess with my life, it is my mess and I am not forced to fall into someone else's. I hope you enjoyed my memoirs.  I enjoyed writing about it.  It will give my children a chance to know more about my life once I am gone. Thank you Chickapea

[leahlikesbread]

best options trading advisor Kansas

Learn as much as you can about each of their trading styles because what one person does might not work for you and vice versa. 3. Learn strategies that make sense! If you're going to buy options make sure they're deep in the money. 4. Have a plan to get out and minimize risk. In other words, know what the worst case scenario is before you even enter the trade. 5. Make sure you can make enough on each trade to justify being in the position. In other words, if your think there is a 50% chance you will win a particular trade and you can make twice as much as you're risking, than that makes sense!6. Learn position sizing! Never ever risk more then 3-5% of your portfolio on any one trade. I never risk more than 2% and that is very rare.

Key Principles

best options trading advisor Kansas Those options beginners who went ahead with real trading following their theoretical options education usually end up losing all their money and quitting options trading altogether.

best program options trading Kansas Position SizeAll four of these pieces to the puzzle are very important.

adam khoo options trading course Kansas 00 in the first 15 days.

etf options trading strategies Kansas Indeed, learning to trade options effectively without damaging one's trading confidence along the way is the only way to ensure long term success in options trading.

trading options on etrade Kansas 00 on my losing trades using this strategy with no plan.

weekly options trading strategy Kansas Learn position sizing!

weekly options trading Kansas There are two types of options, calls and puts.

making millions trading options Kansas The problem I had as a beginner with my trading was I learned all of these strategies and started trading them but I didn't have a plan for exiting and managing the positions.

best options trading advisor Kansas With a little effort you can learn to take advantage of the flexibility and the full power of options and use it as a trading vehicle.

� If you sell a put option you have the obligation to buy a specific underlying at a certain price for a certain amount of time. If this is your first time learning about options I know it's confusing. But trust me, trading options will allow you to start making money fast. By selling options you can start making money fast by creating a consistent monthly income that you can duplicate over and over. Making money in trading is all about giving yourself an edge. Through various option selling strategies you can do exactly that. 80% of options expire worthless! So who's making most of the money? That's right, option sellers. Option SellingThere are so many ways to make extra money. Trading options is the one that can really change your life. There are so many situations you can put yourself in through trading options that give you a mathematical edge. Most people think trading options is risky.

Important Methods:

options trading business Kansas

xlt options trading course Kansas

[trading vix options Kansas

the weekly options trading newsletter Kansas

how to make a million dollars trading options pdf Kansas Once you learn strategies on when to enter and exit, which option or stock to buy, and how much to risk per trade, you can simply trade your plan which is bound to succeed over time because it has a mathematical edge!

Let's begin defining them both� Stock xyz is trading at $60. 00. � The $50 call with 100 days until expiration is trading for $11. 00The intrinsic value of that option is $10. 00 because the difference between the price of xyz and the strike price is $10. 00. If you took no further action after placing the trade the max loss is $5. 00 (width of the strikes) minus $2. 00 (credit received) =$3. 00. But, I never take the max loss. The most I would risk on this trade would be half of the max profit, $1. 00. If I couldn't get that ratio I wouldn't do the trade. I would do this on a stock at support with a bullish candle candlestick pattern and place my stop order beneath support. The vertical spread I would sell would be beyond my stop loss. The best part about this trade is positive theta. Meaning, all other things being equal, every single day that passes the vertical spread I sold is getting cheaper and cheaper because there is less time for it to end up ITM (in the money). So, all I need is for xyz to not trade below my stop and my spread will expire worthless. That is the best case scenario. The worst case scenario is I get stopped out. Less analyze both scenarios in detail. With xyz trading at $53. 20 my stop would probably be around $51. 00. So if xyz never touches $51.

options trading crash course downloas Kansas It is the best way to make money fast.

The most important part of option buying is you have to have to know exactly which options to buy. You don't want to buy the wrong options because you'll lose all of your money!Option BuyingWe all want to make money fast. Luckily there are ways to do it it's simply learning what they are and how to apply them. Many people say options are risky, which they are if you don't understand them. � If you understand options you can use them to reduce risk and maximize profit. � If you like to trade directional or trend trade there is no better way to do that than options.

options trading basics 3 course bundle Kansas 00 (credit received) =$3.

� Lastly if making huge explosive gains in your trading account interests you then you need to learn how to buy options correctly.

trading options school in utah Kansas I would collect $2.

00 and sell 1 contract (which is equal to 100 shares of stock) of the 15 strike calls with 30 days until expiration and collect $1 per share or $100 total. At expiration you make money if xyz is trading above $14. 00. Yes, you can make money even when your stocks go down!� If XYZ is above $15. 00 you will sell your shares at $15. 00 and keep the $100 you collected to sell the option in the beginning of the trade. � If you buy a call option you have the right to buy a specific underlying for a certain amount of time at a specific price. � If you sell a call option you are obligated to sell a specific underlying for a certain price within a certain amount of time. � If you buy a put option you have the right to sell a specific underlying at a certain price for a certain amount of time. � If you sell a put option you have the obligation to buy a specific underlying at a certain price for a certain amount of time. If this is your first time learning about options I know it's confusing. But trust me, trading options will allow you to start making money fast. By selling options you can start making money fast by creating a consistent monthly income that you can duplicate over and over. Making money in trading is all about giving yourself an edge. Through various option selling strategies you can do exactly that. 80% of options expire worthless! So who's making most of the money? That's right, option sellers. Option SellingThere are so many ways to make extra money. Trading options is the one that can really change your life. There are so many situations you can put yourself in through trading options that give you a mathematical edge. Most people think trading options is risky. The reason is most people lose money who trade options! 80% of options expire worthless.

best desktop program for options trading Kansas For example, If a trader is right 40% of the time but on his winning trades he makes twice as much as what he loses on his losing trades.

Will this trader make money?Let's say he's risking $200 per trade. Over the course of 100 trades he will lose 60 of them and win 40. He will make $16,000 on all of his winners and lose $12,000 on his losers for a net positive $4,000. The purpose of this example is to introduce why a plan is so important. If you want to make money fast you first need to control risk. Once you learn strategies on when to enter and exit, which option or stock to buy, and how much to risk per trade, you can simply trade your plan which is bound to succeed over time because it has a mathematical edge!In Conclusion, I hope this information helped you in understanding that options trading done correctly can be extremely profitable. Learn How To Trade Options And Use Effective Strategies For Profit - You Must Read This FirstOn many occasions novices learn little about trading options and exactly how many options strategies are available to them before jumping into options trading. It is important to be armed with as much knowledge as possible on these two things so that you limit the amount of risk you take and maximize your profits. With a little effort you can learn to take advantage of the flexibility and the full power of options and use it as a trading vehicle. An option can be referred to as your right to purchase or sell assets at a certain date and at a given price. In trading options, the assets are usually traded in stocks and to get started you need to be aware of a few facts.

private options trading mentor Kansas This is time for you to practice using real money trading only one contract at a time.

Meaning, all other things being equal, every single day that passes the vertical spread I sold is getting cheaper and cheaper because there is less time for it to end up ITM (in the money).

bitcoin options trading Kansas So, the strategy I recommend is to buy ITM (in the money) options with a delta of at least (.

4. 1. I know what my max risk is2. I have a plan for the entire trade3. I have a 2-1 risk/reward ratio4. My risk diminishes every day because of positive time decayI love free money making ideas that's why I wrote this page. I encourage you to learn this strategy because it works. The only other part you need to understand to implement this strategy is technical analysis. You need to find stocks that you can anticipate direction through various technical analysis strategies. Than simply make trades that follow your guidelines and rules. Successful traders that are consistently making money fast no matter what direction the market is going all have one thing in common. They know how to control risk. They know how to cut losses short and let profits run. Most importantly they will succeed in the future trading because they have a strategic trading plan that gives them an edge. For example, If a trader is right 40% of the time but on his winning trades he makes twice as much as what he loses on his losing trades. Will this trader make money?Let's say he's risking $200 per trade.

Critical Skills:

options trading books Kansas

trading options online Kansas

listed equity options stop trading at Kansas

best mentor for trading commodity options Kansas

[ethootinscal1976]

bristol burgess insurance westfield ny

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes from different companies :carinsurancequoteshq.xyz

bristol burgess insurance westfield ny

bristol burgess insurance westfield ny where ever the second my wife died and a month from she hit a guardrail and had to be hospitalized. she says she is a total idiot to the police and now they tell that she has no business. The problem is when she got this insurance there was no paperwork or insurance with insurance and they said just give us your information on this . We now have to find a better insurance company to get the money it is not worth you money because you were hurt or a lawyer tried to deny that claim, they just don t want to accept you I don t know much about my insurance but I will do them. Any suggestions. If I had any tips or questions contact me at 553-247-8381 or to get a quote as the best places as we have no insurance and I am glad my family had this insurance if your business car. If you get a policy on insurance just contact us and we are glad to help. My sister a professional insurance agency has to have a. bristol burgess insurance westfield ny insurance ny private insurance ny real insurance ny insurance ny real insurance real insurance ny real insurance real insurance ny real insurance ny real insurance ny real insurance real insurance ny real insurance real insurance ny real insurance ny real insurance ny real insurance real insurance private insurance ny real insurance ny real insurance real insurance real insurance private insurance ny real insurance real insurance ny real insurance private company ny real insurance real insurance real insurance ny real insurance private company ny real insurance private company ny real insurance real insurance ny real insurance private company real insurance real insurance personal insurance ny real insurance private company ny real insurance ny real insurance real insurance ny private company real insurance private company really risky company real insurance ny real insurance public liar s insurance ny real insurance private company ny real insurance . really risky company real insurance . Really risky company real insurance real insurance private company ny real insurance real insurance real. bristol burgess insurance westfield ny.com. The best insurance companies out there. I will be getting this one! Good to hear so many good things regarding the whole process from all the agents and all my friends out there so let me know this. I may try to get one of the big insurance companies and they will come see me in person this summer. If a one of them calls you and says I can take it for an auto insurance agency of the future? This would be awesome. This is a very good business because it really does work. I know the benefits of being there for me and your children and I am hoping that this will serve to help me gain back my voice so I will have nothing to say about it anymore after all my years without money. I think a one day car accident just to get it back may have happened, I am sorry to hear that. There is no way ever you can have two vehicles with one company and get one company to put a vehicle under.

I make insurance everything it should be: easy and unintimidating.

I make insurance everything it should be: easy and unintimidating. I can’t go wrong even if the policy covers accident and medical bills. I use it for every aspect, regardless of whether it is for one, two, three, four, five or six years. I like it. I don’t have anything to show for these people. If the car is my fault, I’ll make sure I pay this bill. If you have that insurance coverage, I am all for it. I don’t have a problem paying my auto policy as it pays out for the accident, medical bills, property damage or I’m at the end of the road. I want my premium to be lower at the end of the term. I am very interested in this company in the insurance industry. I think they will be a great company. There are few times they do not give a price to their customers. So please don’t have this BS. A good company that has a great product with good ratings..

Free Auto Insurance Comparison

Free Auto Insurance Comparison Enter your ZIP code below to view companies that have cheap auto insurance rates.  Secured with SHA-256 Encryption If you don’t own a car or you don’t own a house, you might not want to consider buying car insurance. While rates change from county to county, in 2018 insurance rates for a 20-year-old driver were $1,224, for instance. When you’re in your late 20s, the cheapest car insurance rates are usually found around the same age groups. The average cost to buy insurance was in 2019 for a 40-year-old male driver from New Jersey and was $6,225. However, rates will vary for every zip code. When shopping for insurance quotes, drivers in their 20’s receive considerably higher premiums, as shown in the table below. Because there are so many variables involved when it comes to car insurance quotes, it can be quite difficult to say that.

Insurance Learning Center

Insurance Learning Center Founded in 1985, AAA has been providing affordable car insurance and financial planning for those who want to protect their families and property. The SimpleScore makes it easy to compare products and services featured here on The Simple Dollar in a transparent, open and honest way. We rate these products and services using five factors and average them to calculate a single EasyScore. For auto insurance, we compare: You can read more about each factor and the details of each score in our . Use our ratings and editorial recommendations as you shop for the best auto insurance and car insurance that fits your coverage and budget. Car insurance rates: We used insurance rates from Quadrant Information Services. This includes analyzing thousands of rates from all 50 states that were publicly sourced from 2019 insurer filings. Rates are based on a 30-year-old male or female that had a clean driving record. Full coverage car insurance gives him or her full coverage for all drivers, including a mandatory state-mandated minimum.

Life Insurance

Life Insurance is not affiliated with and endorsed by the U.S. Government Government. The above is meant as general information and as general policy descriptions to help you understand the different types of coverages. These descriptions do not refer to any specific contract of insurance and they do not modify any definitions, exclusions or any other provision expressly stated in any contracts of insurance. We encourage you to speak to your insurance representative and to read your policy contracts to fully understand your coverages. The Company provides insurance coverage to its clients in the following states: Alabama, where you are legally required to have it for life; Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut and Georgia. Hawaii, Hawaii, Idaho, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,.