#i dont know how to pull it off in a more optimized way than searching for each line tho

[pixelatedquarter]

Ultimate measurement of the success of so much (for) stardust will be a month from now how many fanfics show up on ao3 with lyrics from any of the tracks as titles tbh

[strsburn]

destiny led me to you | loki

pairing - loki laufeyson x female reader

synopsis - driven by the heartbreak of losing your entire world by the hands of thanos, you set out to find him, leaving destruction in your path in multiple universes; thus creating a horde of branches in the timeline and catching the attention of the TVA.

but you would do it all again if it meant you could see him once more.

notes - this is hopefully going to be a series, depending on the feedback i receive, i plan to follow the episodes only slightly because i dont want it to be an exact copy of the show.

[THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LOKI SERIES]

idea credit ( @horrorisunknowntoyou ) thank you for the inspo and allowing me to run with it!

warnings - death, violence, angst, and possible smut (in later chapters?)

wc - 2.4k

MASTERLIST • AO3

"Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same." A wrinkled hand reaches for your chin, running prune colored fingers along your jawline, doting; mockingly.

Your heartbeat pulses loudly in your ears, eyes glazing over with exhaustion and pain as you attempt to glare, the notion in vain as the titan merely chuckled amusedly.

"I can see great power in you, little one. An infinity stone pulses beneath your every vein. Tell me, where is the tesseract?"

You remain silent.

"We don't have the tesseract, it was destroyed along with all of Asgard." Thor interjects weakly from where he lies, his body held tightly in the arms of the black order.

Guilt sweeps across your being as you make eye contact with Loki, sharing a single nod as you both know what you must do.

Thanos grows annoyed with your unwillingness to comply as he walks over with loud steps, his footprints visible as he raises his gauntlet up, the power stone shining threateningly close to Thor.

"The tesseract, or your brother's head. I assume you have a preference." It's not a question. Merely a statement, one that Loki knows he must prove unbothered.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." To anyone else it would seem he couldn't care less about his brother's demise, but you know your love better than he does himself and you catch the glance of fear that washes over cerulean eyes.

You can only watch in trepidation as the stone makes contact with the God's head. Agonized cries escaping as his skin is burned by the mere power of the stone.

Loki does his best to look unaffected, but you catch the hitch in his breath as he batters inner turmoil. the universe, or his brother.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Loki turns his palm up, as a familiar blue cube materializes in his hand. The eerie blue glow casting a shadow upon his face.

Thanos steps away, smug. You force yourself to look away from Thor's accusing gaze.

"You truly are the worst, brother." Thor shakes his head, eyes disappointed but not surprised.

As Thanos moves to take the stone from his hand cerulean blue eyes make contact with your own and you feel a wave of fear wash over you as you recognize the look in Loki's eyes.

"I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us again." He does not move his gaze from your own and you can't help but feel this is an unspoken goodbye.

"Your optimism is misplaced, asgardian."

"Well, for one thing, I'm not asgardian. For another, we have a hulk."

In a blur of color you are shoved from where you lie, a slithe figure covering your own as you breathe in the familiar scent of cinnamon and leather.

"We don't have much time, my love. I just want you to know that I love you dearly, and I am grateful for the time I had with you. May I see you again, in Valhalla." His eyes are teary and you barely process his words, as his hands grab hold of your face and pull you into a kiss.

The kiss is desperate, filled with love and grief and you can only briefly kiss your love back as he steps closer to Thanos, rambling on about undying fidelity.

You catch a glimpse of silver behind his back and you gasp as realization sets in.

You move to reach him just as he leaps for Thanos, the knife poised for his head, frozen in mid air as the stones across his knuckles pulse.

"Undying fidelity, you should choose your words more wisely."

You cry out as Loki struggles in his grip, his skin fading blue. You crawl forward, legs aching as you reach for him, your progress hinged by your inability to walk.

"You will never be a god." The rasped words are followed by a snap as his neck gives out beneath Thanos' hands.

A tortured scream rings out and it takes you a second to realize it's your own. A broken sob leaves you as you crawl forward to reach where Thanos has carelessly thrown the body of your love.

You heave as your shaky fingers caress his face, his lifeless eyes staring ahead as you clutch him to your chest.

You rock back and forth knotting your fingers in his hair as you plead for the nightmare to end.

"No resurrections this time."

A portal opens and closes behind you, yet you make no motion to move.

You simply close your eyes and welcome the sweet release of death as the universe explodes around you.

N E W Y O R K 2 0 1 2

"'Coordinates for search and rescue, on my way now.' I mean honestly, how-" Loki is promptly shut up by the mouth guard that decorates his face, courtesy of his brother.

Displeasure makes an appearance as Loki is led to the elevator followed by the avengers that quickly file in. The only source of entertainment being the temper tantrum the green beast throws as he is denied entry. Loki can hardly contain his glee as he waves mockingly as the doors close.

As he is led to the ground floor his cuffed hands clinking annoyingly with every step he glances wearily around himself, dreading the lecture that is sure to come once he reaches asgard. He has no doubt in his mind that Odin will find perfect reason to throw him to the wolves, lest his mother get involved.

As he contemplates, his attention is caught by the sound of his brother calling for help, the guards holding him, attending to what he perceives to be a heart attack, to none other than the man of metal.

He watches, confused as a small stature kicks the case holding the tesseract away from view as the others tend to Stark.

Looking around bemused he watches to see what will conspire next. Before any other move can be made a shout is heard as the doors to the staircase along with the wall is torn apart, the hulk making his distaste for the tedious activity known.

For once since meeting the beast he feels thankful, as the case holding the tesseract is knocked open, the familiar cube sliding towards his foot.

A beat passes and grabbing a hold of the familiar cube he glances around, vanishing in a thin cloud of blue.

T V A U N K N O W N

Hurried footsteps echo down the corridor as the man moves with barely contained excitement. Tie swinging to and fro, a slightly wrinkled hand pulls at the collar of his neck nervously.

Mobius had seen many variants in his time at the TVA. Yet, none had ever come close to interesting as the file he currently held in one hand. Variant L1130 or Loki, as he was called, was perhaps one of the most complicated cases he had come across.

Born as a legend of mythology it was quite unbelievable to know that not only was he real, but he happened to be in their custody for creating a new branch in the timeline. Mobius could only hope Renslayer would agree to allowing him to be the God's superior.

Entering the courtroom, Mobius sits down and watches with rapt attention as Loki attempts to bargain with Ravonna. His plans are foiled as he tries to call upon his magic in a last effort to escape.

Mobius feels it's time to intervene when Renslayer makes it clear he is to be executed.

"You have no idea what I am capable of!"

"Actually I might have an idea of what he is capable of." He offers as he makes his way up to the stand.

His plea must be written across his face as Ravonna leans over to look at him directly.

"Whatever you're planning, it's a bad idea." She warns.

Nonetheless she reluctantly lets him go and Mobius has to fight off the urge to fist pump the air as he escorts Loki down the hallway.

"Oh, I'm Agent Mobius by the way." He offers a hand that is quickly ignored.

He can practically see the distrust written on Loki's face, his eyes calculating every move he makes.

Mobius is hardly surprised that as soon as he enters the room, his back turned to the God as he adjusts his projector, Loki is surging forward to attack. He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he clicks a button on his remote, resetting the God as if the action never even happened.

"C'mon, let's take a look at some of your greatest hits." Mobius waves a hand, as Loki curiously sits down, eyes trained on the projector.

He finds himself staring back at a hologram of his attack on New York. His blue eyes darting back and forth with glee as chaos erupts around him.

A feeling of something akin to shame runs down his spine as he recalls his reign of terror on the city, an illusion of preying on the weak to hide his own fear, lest he fail and succumb to Thanos and his minions.

Loki clenches his jaw, arms crossing over his form in an attempt to hide himself as he turns to avoid the screen.

"I see no point in this-"

"No, no wait, this is just getting good." Mobius grins as he points to the screen and Loki finds himself once again face to face with another variation of himself.

He briefly recalls the time he had lost a bet to Thor and had to change his form into that of a ginger haired man wearing a clean three piece suit, claiming he had a bomb and required over two hundred thousand in midgardian money just to see if he could pull it off. He did, in fact, pull it off, but his mother was not happy as well as the midgardians who failed to solve the case, naming him D.B. Cooper as they had no clue as to his real identity.

His attention is pulled to the screen as a familiar voice of silk enters the scene and he watches as his mother speaks to his future self, his eyes drawn into her face.

"Then am I not your mother?" He hears her ask. Yes, you are.

"No. You are not." Loki's eyes start to mist as he watches the look of hurt pass over his mother's features before she schools her expression into one of contempt.

"Always so perceptive, about everyone but yourself." She decides.

The screen flickers and he sees himself talking to an intruder, his voice amused as he suggests the monster to take the stairs to the left.

Then, his mother, Frigga, lying on the cold ground, a puddle of red growing rapidly beneath her body as her eyes remained closed.

His breath hitches, anger now licking up his spine. He turns sharply to Mobius who smartly remains silent.

"What is this! Some cruel joke? Where is she?! Where do you have her?"

Mobius steps forward, expression neutral as he speaks.

"She's dead Loki. This is the future, it's destined to happen, again and again because that's how it should be."

Loki falters his eyes narrowing as he spits "You're lying! I'll kill you!"

"What? Like you killed your mother."

There's a split second of silence before an angered shout is heard, a chair splitting the air as it crashes into pieces along the floor.

Before anything else can be said Mobius is summoned by Hunter B-15, his eyes falling to Loki who remains silent and he leaves with a slight tinge of guilt burrowing in his chest at the haunted look in the God's eyes.

"You think yourself so sly don't you." Loki looks up at the unfamiliar voice as the projector suddenly comes to life, a new image flicking gently on screen. His eyes catch upon your form and he watches in awe and wonder as you sit beside his future self.

"I don't think, love. I know." He grins leaning in to steal a kiss from you that leaves you both breathless.

He watches as your eyes are filled with nothing but love and adoration for him as you lean into his side.

"Loki?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

Loki tilts his head in contemplation as he looks to you, before a soft grin pulls at his lips.

"I didn't until I met you. I know that no matter who or what tries to tear us apart, we will always find a way back to each other."

A smile breaks out onto your face and Loki watches in stunned silence as the clip ends with the two of your voices fading into laughter.

"You two are meant to be together."

Loki turns as Mobius slowly comes to a stop behind him, his expression thoughtful.

"I don't enjoy hurting people you know." He responds, motioning towards the screen in reference to his attack on New York and the death of his mother.

Mobius doesn't respond, and he takes that as a sign to continue.

"I do it because I have to. Because I've had to." He looks down as he fiddles with his fingers.

Mobius hums as he replies.

"Why? Why do you think that is?"

"It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

Realization lights up in Mobius' eyes as he answers back.

"A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."

"A villain." Loki sums up.

"Not the way I see it."

There's a mutual silence between them before Mobius sighs.

"Look I can't offer you salvation but I can offer you something better. A fugitive variant has been killing our minutemen."

"And let me guess, you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him."

"That's right."

"How could I possibly be of use to you?"

"That's the thing. The variant we are hunting, we believe is y/n." Mobius looks towards the projector where your image is still.

"I beg your pardon?"

U N K N O W N

Mutilated bodies line the floor as a hooded figure steps over them, eyes glowing an unnatural hue.

"Is it finished?"

"Yes."

A wicked laugh fills the empty space as a portal opens in the deserted land, a set of footsteps following through.

"I'm coming for you, my love."

[jincherie]

florescence | v

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 6.8k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: a pinch of angst, some hurt n comfort, and a teensy bit of risque content towards the end.... yay for scenting!! ❀ — notes: There was a fair bit that I changed in this one so part way through i ran into a bit of a block-- gradually, I pushed through!!! here is the next part uwu, I dont have anything written after this so the next update may take a while. (also, for anyone still having trouble with this, I did add a read more)

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 11.03.2020 // masterlist || prev. | next.

When you wake up, you feel so well-rested that you almost completely forget what troubled your heart the night prior. Almost. As soon as you sit up and your gaze flits over the window, weather uncharacteristically gloomy, you recall what has been troubling you the past week and a bit and all of a sudden you can physically feel your mood drop. Right.

Well— you attempt to stop the spiral before it can really begin— today is your chance to make things right. You have the whole day off! That, for one thing, is sure to cheer the boys up a little bit. If they’re still not in the best of spirits, like you feel they might be, then you have the whole day to come up with a plan.

Yawning and scratching your head, allowing yourself a moment of indulgence before you get up to dive into the day headfirst, you attempt to bolster your confidence at least a little. With a little perseverance, you can do this!

You can do it! x   x   x

You can’t do it.

You thought that you’d be able to keep a cheery mood going, that you’d be able to cling to some optimism, but as it turns out you were somewhat wrong and this situation as it is now at around midday has your glass looking half-empty.

You’d gone about your normal routine after getting up; showering and then cooking and cleaning a little. To your surprise, the boys hadn’t come out to beg and plead with you at all. Even as their behaviour in the evenings changed during the past week and a bit, their behaviour in the mornings never did. So, understandably, this new development filled you with an icky feeling that stuck to the sides of your stomach like tar. You need to figure out what you’re doing that’s actually upsetting them, but attempting to pull the answer out of them is like pulling teeth. And with nothing but the barest hints to go off, you don’t really know where to even begin your online search, either.

So, halfway through the day and already almost at your wits end, you suppose the only way to go now is trial and error.

Off the top of your head, there are only a few things you can think of that might be bothering them.  

First, there are the insecurities they have that you’re already aware about. You don’t think this is actually the only thing bothering them, but you have a gut feeling that it has something to do with it. Each day they spent in the labs after their creation, under the technical label of ‘failure’, clearly took its toll on them. They only had each other there, and you know that the men you met while picking them up would have done their best to take care of them but as employees in that institution there is a line that they couldn’t ever cross to really give them the comfort they needed. So you know that Seokjin and Taehyung both were deemed ‘failures’ within their batches, exceptions, and you know that this knowledge has brought forth entire complexes around inferiority and worth within them.

Knowing this, it has you wondering if those complexes are leading the two of them to feel as though they’re being slowly pushed aside, or as though they have become a second thought to you. They most definitely haven’t, but with their background you wouldn’t be too surprised if that is a conclusion they have come to. You really want them to know and understand that they are a part of your home now, but you also know it’s going to be hard to get them to that point.

Regardless, it’s difficult to know what is actually wrong with them without being able to talk to them, and as the morning goes on they prove persistent in their efforts to ignore and avoid you. It irks you and upsets you at the same time, but still you do your best to be understanding. They’re not going to come out and have breakfast for as long as you’re in the kitchen, so you make the slightly wounding decision to return to your room for a while so they have a chance to at least eat. Taking care of them from the shadows it is—you leave some eggs and toast on plates for them before you retreat further into the house in the direction of your room.

You really wish that for situations like this there was someone you could just ask who would have all the answers you want and more—not many of your friends know that you even have hybrids, though, and Seulgi is probably at work still. Plus, she’d probably just tell you to look it up yourse— oh!!

You have the internet!

Honestly you’re not surprised it’s taken you this long to realise you could just look it up instead of lamenting and stewing in your own confusion and worry. Flopped across you bed, you pull your phone up and get to work. ‘hybrids upset with me’ is the first thing you intuitively type, and it brings forth an array of results. As one might expect, about 30% of them are actually relevant to what you want. You open a promising-looking one and begin to read.

“When instilling absolute obedience in wayward hybrids, it is expected that at first there will be a little backlash and they may react in an upset manner. A firm hand and unrelenting—”

Well, you click out of that one faster than you can blink. A closer look at the site name, perfectingyourpet.com, makes you realise you really should have inspected it a little bit more finely before opening it earlier.

Back on the search results page, you skim over the rest of them with a more scrutinising eye. It takes you a while before you actually open one that isn’t a run-around or an instant dead end.

‘Just like their animal counterparts, hybrids can become stressed and unhappy from a number of things that we often don’t think of from a human standpoint. Certain foods, environments, smells—the littlest thing can sometimes impact your hybrid companion’s happiness.’

Now that you’re reading this and really thinking about it, that makes a lot of sense. You aren’t sure how you haven’t been coming to these conclusions much earlier, and feel a little stupid and ashamed.

Chastised, you read a little further, soaking up as much information as you can, leaving the things you think aren’t very applicable for your situation. Towards the end, you admittedly skim it a bit, but to be fair that is just because you’re antsy to get started on fixing whatever has fallen through between you and the boys.

Some of the causes of stress this site tells you about are things you don’t think you have to worry about – yelling, fighting, having lots of guests come through and an always busy house. You definitely don’t have to worry about those. But then, when you read through the others, nothing is really clicking into place like this, this is it. You aren’t sure as to the cause still but at least you have something to go off now, even if it will be a process of elimination and learning by error.

One of the first things the site says, in addition to those you didn’t really think were relevant, is that it could be something in the diet, the environment, or a smell—or any change really. Branching off of that thought has you realising that it’s possible your big faux pas here is that you introduced such a big change – you going to work for a few hours a day – so suddenly and abruptly. From what you’re reading, it’s more than likely unsettled them and made them feel a bit insecure in their positions once more.

So, as your first attempt to make things right, you’re going to do your best to include them all over again. With a sigh you rise from your bed and attempt to steel yourself before making your way back into the kitchen, your fingers crossed that they have at least come out to eat something.

You’re quiet in your movements, and you think that is largely what allows you to catch the two elusive hybrids in the kitchen as they chow through the breakfast you left for them. It makes you happy to see they’re still eating what you make, but still sad to know they refuse to do it in your presence.

“Good morning,” you greet softly, leaning against the doorframe.

You hadn’t meant to startle them, but that’s what you end up doing. Seokjin, who had been looking through the fridge (most likely in search of some juice), jumps in fright, one yelp escaping before he bumps his head on a shelf and another, louder one follows it. Taehyung doesn’t make any noise, but you see him jump in his spot by the bench, whipping around to face you with wide eyes and a mouth full of eggs.

It’s an odd mix of emotions that cross their faces, prefaced by a wash of guilt and then a myriad of others you don’t manage to catch in time. They’re still upset, but clearly seeing you has weakened their defences slightly. You quickly take advantage of it.

“I’m glad you’re up and about,” you say, shooting them both a smile and doing your best to make sure none of the hurt seeps through. “I was thinking we could all do something together today!”

Surprise is what greets you as they stare at you, then at each other. Seokjin voices their thoughts, “You don’t have work today?”

From just behind him, you can catch his tail beginning to sway in cautious anticipation. His ears are slightly lowered, as are Taehyung’s, but they perk up when you answer them with a shake of your head.

“I don’t,” you affirm, feeling slightly bolstered by their response. “So I was thinking we could do something… maybe go out to the park? Or a café? Or—”

Their ears flatten and its obvious they’re not too into that idea, surprisingly. You really thought that would be something they’d love! You quickly backtrack. “Or, we could just cuddle on the couch and watch Netflix…? Seokjin, that zombie show you like had another season added.”

At that, they seem much more enthusiastic. Seokjin’s tail begins to wag a little more heartily, if still somewhat tentative.

“Already?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh that’s good, they left it on a cliffhanger last season.”

The few moments after he finishes speaking are almost awkward, but you step in before they can get to that point.

“Perfect, did you want to watch that now?” You pose the question, before recalling that you’d caught them in the middle of stuffing their faces. “I mean, after you’re done eating of course.”

“Yes!” Seokjin nearly yaps in his excitement, the mood of the two hybrids seeming to have taken a complete 180 now that they know they have your time all to themselves today. You wonder if the ‘cuddling’ aspect had much to do with it, since you’d noticed their eyes light up when you’d mentioned it earlier.

You turn your gaze to the side, and when you see Taehyung looking just as excited, you offer them a bright smile. “Great, well you guys finish up and I’ll wait in the living room. I’ll get it all set up.”

Both of their tails are wagging as you turn and make your way to the room in question, and you feel significantly lighter than you have all week. You just need to bond with them a little more, assure them of their place with you and that you care for them. You were too dramatic earlier, you can do this!

Going around the living room, you end up setting up the couch like a makeshift nest, their comfort the main thing on your mind. Netflix is on and loaded, and you tidy things just a bit in the extra time you have before you hear the two hybrids approaching the room.

They’re excited, you can tell from the second you catch sight of them. Taehyung especially looks like he’s trying not to smile too big, but his tail is whirring a mile a minute behind him.

Seokjin picks up the remote, before turning to you. “You sit down first.”

Apparently it slipped out before he’d realised, because in the next second his face flushes and he hurries to correct himself at how demanding he feared he sounded. “I mean, uh… please. So we can, um….”

He doesn’t have to finish for you to know what he wants. More often than not, the two of them wait until you seat yourself so that they then can flop down and curl around you. Smiling at Seokjin to let him know it’s okay, you sit in the middle of the couch and wait. Well, you don’t even have to wait—as soon as your ass touches the seat the two hybrids dive for a spot on either side of you, nestling against you, the blankets, and the couch.

Their actions stir up butterflies in your stomach and you have to marvel at yourself—wow, you’ve really gotten quite touch starved because of this whole ordeal, haven’t you? That’s kind of embarrassing…

Seokjin swings his legs over your lap and Taehyung presses his body to your side, head on your shoulder. You can feel his large hands fisting the material of your shirt needily, oblivious to the way he brushes the underside of your breast with the action. You ignore the skipped heartbeat that results and pretend it didn’t even happen. That’s a dangerous rabbit hole to go down if you follow that thought.

“What are we watching?” you ask, reaching a hand up to play with the curls at the back of Taehyung’s neck. His grip on your shirt tightens and he presses closer before the tension leaves his body completely, and he lets out the faintest noise in satisfaction. You’d do the same to Seokjin but his higher level functioning ceases when you play with his hair and you kind of want a response.

“This?” he proposes, eyes on the screen. You follow his gaze and watch the preview that’s played for you. “I added it to the list but haven’t, um… haven’t gotten to watch it yet.”

“If it’s what you wanna watch, put it on,” you reassure him, holding your hand out for the remote. He sees your hand and his cheeks warm—you wonder why before the answer follows, and he places his hand in yours, threading your fingers together.

You don’t even have the heart to tell him that you were asking for the remote, especially now that you feel your own face burning. God, what are these two doing to your heart today?!

What Seokjin chose seems to be some new anime with alternate styling to what you’re used to seeing, the mode of animation different but quite cool. Unfortunately, you only get to watch about a minute of it before something disrupts the peace and content beginning to settle over the room.

Knocking. On your door. It’s light but sharp and very persistent. Seokjin pauses the show, confused but alert.

“Who on Earth…?” you murmur to yourself, regrettably rising from the couch and parting from the warmth of the hybrids. There is an odd weight on your side as you stand, and you don’t realise that Taehyung has risen with you, clinging to your side, until you take a step and he bumps into you by accident.

Endeared by the way he dons a sheepish smile, you accept his company and make your way to the front door, wondering who on earth would even be making the effort to visit you on your day off. Rustling sounds from the couch, but you figure it’s just Seokjin getting comfortable and preparing to wait.

“Just a second!” you call out when the knocking stops, worrying the culprit is leaving. Did you order anything recently? Are you expecting anyone and just forgot? You really don’t think so. Taehyung trails after you, connected only by his loose grip on the bottom of your shirt.

You could have peaked out of the peep hole, but you don’t, going straight to opening the door instead. The figure waiting on the other side makes you halt in surprise. Taehyung shoots ramrod straight behind you.

“What are you doing here, rude cat?” you ask in surprise after a moment, teasing nickname tacked on by default. Changkyun gives you a borderline dirty look, but doesn’t speak for a moment- his attention is captured as he catches sight of the hybrid plastered to your back. His mouth forms an ‘o’, realisation dawning across his features.

“Ah, the unhappy audience….” He murmurs to himself, a glint entering his eyes that you absolutely do not like one bit. Before you can warn him off whatever idea has just entered his head, he turns his gaze to you and offers a bright, if somewhat cheeky, smile.

“Hey, y/n,” he purrs, taking a step closer. You’re suspicious immediately. “You left something at our house last time, and since we were driving past your place anyway the madame asked me to come bring it up to you.”

As he finishes speaking, he pulls something out from behind his back, holding it out to you. You can feel the tension of the hybrid beside you as you reach out and take it, eyes wide.

“Oh, my cardigan,” you mutter, holding up the dark pink article and pursing your lips in surprise. “I did wonder where it got to. Thanks, Changkyun!”

“No problem!” he answers, perhaps a little too easily, He rolls the ring on his bottom lip as he stands in contemplation for a moment. It’s as though he considers doing something, entertaining the thought for a moment before deciding against it. Instead, he offers you a sly smile, beginning to step backwards. “See you next week, y/n.”

You return the farewell, waiting until he is a good metre or so away before closing and locking the door. The second you do, you feel Taehyung pull away from your back. Surprised, you turn in question—the second your gaze falls on him though, you freeze.  

You’re not sure if you can describe the current look in his face in just a single word—there are many emotions that seem to flick across his features, but the one that seems to linger the most is hurt.

At the realisation you’re baffled, understandably, and while your brain attempts to put pieces together and figure out why Taehyung is looking at you like that, he pulls away. His brows are furrowed, bottom lip a split-second away from trembling fully.

“Tae?” you ask, tentative. At the sound of your voice though the hybrid shakes his head, expression even more upset than before. It makes your stomach drag down with guilt and a certain sense of anxiety. Taehyung steps back, looking at you for just a moment longer before he turns and flees.

A call of his name is stuck in your throat and you can only watch him go, hearing him pass through the hall and then hurry up the stairs. Absolutely boggled, you almost miss the movement from the doorway to the living room.

You turn your gaze just in time to catch a glimpse of Seokjin as he slips away, following the same path Taehyung laid through the house just seconds earlier. After the sound of him climbing the stairs passes, you’re confronted with the painfully familiar sound of their door slamming closed upstairs.

You don’t have to have seen his face to know that without a doubt, whatever you’d done to hurt Taehyung’s feelings so suddenly, the same applied to the older hybrid.

God—you don’t even know what you did!

This is getting utterly ridiculous and at this point you’re sitting and stewing in your own ashamed juices. You’d just been so close to mending things with them! How had things turned around so quickly?

It’s like a bag of rocks has been dropped in your chest, pushing your heart down to your stomach. You feel very crummy, suddenly. You don’t doubt they feel similar. They’re not going to sit and watch something with you now, and there’s no point in waiting for them to come down because you’ve been with them long enough to know that they won’t.

What are you supposed to do?

Fighting a sudden batch of irrational tears that have risen to sting your eyes and threaten to fall, you scrunch the cardigan in your grip and make a beeline for your room. You don’t bother going to turn off the TV because right now you’re too upset and it’s just going to remind you of how you’ve managed to ruin things, again.

As soon as the door closes behind you and you’re in the sanctity of your room, you let a sniffle escape. The silence that echoes off the walls is all that answers and you throw yourself onto your bed, phone in your hand.

Even though you’re sad right now and want nothing else than to just cry into your pillow a bit and get these horrible, heavy feelings off your chest, `you know you can’t let this go on any longer than it already has. Somewhat sulkily, you unlock your phone and open the browser, returning to your search from earlier. At this point you can only conclude that the problem is you, and that you won’t be able to find anything to help your plight online.

Of course, that’s the last thing you want to be true. And so you return to your previous search, going through all the tabs you opened up previously and rereading to see if there was anything you’d missed or misinterpreted. You’re not all that optimistic, though, and as you read you try not to think about the sneaking feeling you have that you’re not going to find anything to help you fix this new mess you’ve made.

X     x     x   x     x

An hour later you’re climbing hastily from you bed, standing corrected. You’d just found the answer and the solution you’d been looking for—the fact that it was in one of the first pages you opened earlier and you didn’t get it until just now is an incredible source of shame for you. At this point in time you’re very frustrated with yourself, but thankfully there are more pressing matters to attend to.

You know what’s been bothering your hybrids and upsetting them so much.

Of course, in retrospect it’s something so painfully obvious that you want to kick the ground and ram your head straight into the wall at the same time. You read earlier about how change and stress can affect hybrids more than humans, but it hadn’t really sunk in the types of changes and stressors they are especially sensitive to. Reading through one of the first pages again had something you missed the first time through smacking you in the face the second time round.

Your hybrids are unsettled because you’re their ‘owner’, and you’ve been going out and hanging around other people and hybrids, covering yourself in a myriad of strange, different scents, when they haven’t scented you yet.

Your face warms as you recall everything you’d read after clicking the hyperlink on that word in the original article. Scenting can entail a lot of things depending on the hybrid, but mostly its innocent, and something they need to feel settled and secure, something instinctive. Which explains a lot of things, honestly.

Again, you feel so stupid.

Now that you’ve… enlightened yourself, you have the decency to feel a little ashamed and guilty for not taking better steps to understand your hybrids and accommodate them. It’s on you that you didn’t know any better because you hadn’t done the necessary research, but at the same time you wish they’d come to you and told you what was wrong. Although, you know that considering their background, it’s probably hard for them. They’re never sure of their boundaries, where they can go and how far they can push—they’re too cautious and worrisome sometimes, you think. You have a feeling that that’s kind of what was happening behind the scenes here too.

Trying very desperately not to give in to the flustered blush that’s trying to heat your cheeks at what you’re about to do, you attempt to calm yourself by going through the motions as you normally would at this time of day. It’s late enough that you can justify changing into your pyjamas, and so you do—and although these are the clothes you usually wear to bed, the fluffy pants and thin-strapped singlet leave you feeling a little more exposed than usual. You know that you’re going to be more than a little embarrassed while doing this, but honestly you’re just going to have to push through it—it’s the least you can do considering your part in this.

Once changed, you kind of want to climb back in bed and procrastinate the inevitable a little longer, but you force yourself out of the room. It’s somewhat sheepishly that you emerge, attempting to be quiet with your door even though you know there’s no way they’ve left their room. The trip down the hall to their door is quicker than you remember and it isn’t long before you’re taking a breath to prepare yourself and knocking softly on their door. The response is instant.

“Go away!”

You fight a smile at the sound of Seokjin’s voice—his words say one thing but the waver and hints of a plea in his tone say another. It’s cute, the effort he’s putting into trying to show you he’s upset when you have a feeling he wants nothing more than to spend time with you as he usually does. You take a moment to steel yourself before letting out a huff.

“I’m coming in,” you announce, trying to keep your tone gentle, and then you open the door before he has time to protest. When you swing the door open and step in, it’s to the sight of him sitting on the queen bed with his knees tucked to his chest, his face red— although you can’t tell if it’s from anger or embarrassment.

“What do you want,” he grumbles, reminding you very much of a child with the way he averts his eyes and pouts. His tail twitches anxiously behind him, his ears pressed against his skull. Your eyes sweep the room, confusion flickering amongst your thoughts when you don’t catch sight of his younger brother.

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, head tilting. Seokjin answers you a moment later, albeit reluctantly.

“He’s in the shower…” he says, and now that he mentions it you can hear the soft sound of music filtering through the wall. The dhole hybrid likes having something soft and jazzy playing whenever he showers or bathes, you suspect it’s because it helps relax him a little.

You hum in acknowledgement, standing in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the doorframe as you simply look at him. He seems to flush under your prolonged gaze, desperately trying to avoid meeting your eyes. It takes you a moment to decide how to start, and you try not to keep him on his toes too long. It still startles him when you finally speak a few moments later.

You decide to just bite the bullet and jump right into it. “Seokjin, do the two of you feel comfortable here?”

The male balks at your question, eyes wide as he finally looks at you. His knees drop into a cross-legged position against the bed as he straightens, sputtering. “What? Of course we do, you’ve given us everything.”

You wonder if he realises he’s fallen out of his upset character but push the thought aside in favour of continuing your interrogation, setting the grounds so you can lead up to a certain point. Distantly, you register the sound of pipes creaking in the walls as water is shut off and the sound of jazz music disappearing to a muffle. You shake your head at the male, but smile at his words. “Seokjin, what I mean is, are the two of you comfortable— do you feel at home?”

At those words, the hybrid freezes, staring at you with wide eyes. After a few moments he attempts to form a response, the conflict behind his eyes making your heart clench painfully. “I… we…”

You sigh, offering the male a slightly sad smile. “Seokjin, it’s okay. I… I’m sorry. I realise that I could have been doing a better job, with this whole thing. I should have done more to ease you guys into this, and reassure you.”

The male is silent, his eyes glistening slightly. You continue, “I realised earlier that it’s possible you don’t feel like… like this is a permanent home for you, that you could feel as though I’m just a middle ground or a foster home and that you can’t really settle or feel secure here. Is that right?”

His mouth falls open, expression conveying just how completely caught off guard he is—you are right, it seems. He can’t seem to muster a response, but his features contort into an expression of guilt.  “y-y/n, I’m sorry—”

Realising the turn his thoughts are taking, you hurry to step closer and sooth him. “No, bub, you don’t have to apologise at all. This one is on me. This is as new for me as it is for you two, but that doesn’t excuse it. I need to do better, and I will. I…”

At the barest sound of shuffling, you turn over your shoulder and hold your arm out invitingly; Taehyung stands clad in his stripy pyjamas in the doorway and regards the two of you with wide, watering eyes, apparently having heard your conversation thus far. The second he sees your invitation he darts forward, perching on the bed in front of you and clutching the outstretched hand he’d grabbed on his way past.

You take a deep breath before looking both of them in the eyes, one at a time, and speaking. “I want this to be your home. I want you to feel comfortable, and safe, and loved. I want you to know that this isn’t a short-term commitment for me, okay? I’m not going to ever suddenly change my mind, I’m not going to stop caring for you or wanting you around.”

Your voice softens as you take in the way their eyes water slightly. “You can let go of that guard you have over your hearts, and you can let me in. I promise that I will take care of you. You’re safe here, alright? I’m not… I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“y/n…” Seokjin’s voice wobbles, his chin trembling.  You reach up and wipe away the beginnings of tears, doing the same to Taehyung who moves and nuzzles his face into your touch eagerly. It soothes you to see his stormy mood from earlier has vanished completely.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.” A smile tugs your lips, a tender feeling warming your chest. “But… I do have something else to say.”

They both seem a little wary at your words, but relax when you cup their cheeks—Seokjin has long since moved over on the bed so you can reach him.

“I want to say I’m sorry, for not being more knowledgeable about hybrid things,” you say, catching the confused look in their eyes. “I’m going to do more research in the future, but for now…”

They seem to guess where you’re going with this, cheeks colouring. Seokjin mumbles, “You’re talking about how we’ve been acting, aren’t you.”

When you nod, he seems a little apprehensive and anxious. You speak before he can come to any drastic conclusions. “It’s because I come home smelling like other hybrids, right? And you don’t like smelling other hybrids on me.”

Now that you’ve voiced it, the two of them have the decency to appear somewhat embarrassed and chastised. They nod, heads hanging slightly, and you fight back a chuckle. At least they’re aware that it’s not an appropriate behaviour, though it’s not like they can help it. It’s instinct for them, and while its hard for you to wrap your head around as a human, you accept it. You accept them.

“You can scent me, you know.”

At your words, their heads whip up so fast you’re worried they’ll have whiplash from the sheer jerkiness and speed of the movement. Taehyung’s mouth has dropped completely open, eyes blown wide as he stares at you in disbelief—his whole face slowly stains pink and when you turn to regard Seokjin you find the fox hybrid in a similar state.

“Wh-what did you say?” he asks, so softly you almost wonder if you imagined it. He stares at you like he can hardly believe such words would come out of your mouth, like he’d never even considered the possibility.

“You can scent me,” you repeat, head tilting slightly. “I read that it’s something you need to do to feel secure, and comfortable… am I wrong?”

Taehyung’s mouth snaps shut and he shakes his head fervently, hands clutching yours at his cheek. Seokjin hurries to elaborate.

“No! No it’s not wrong, we… it’s an instinct…” he trails off, biting his lip. “We didn’t know… didn’t think you would be comfortable with it, b-because it’s…. it’s kind of weird….”

You tut, tapping your hand against their cheeks softly but enough to startle them. “You sweet fools,” you say, grinning—their ears perk up at the affection in your tone, tails twitching as though they contain the urge to wag. “I didn’t accept you unknowingly, I realised it would come with new territory and new things I hadn’t heard of or done before. Also, my cute boys, please don’t make my decisions for me. From now on, please tell me when something is troubling you, alright? Let’s keep honesty and openness as our policy. I really want the two of you to be happy.”

The two of them are nodding again before the last word even leaves your mouth, pressing their faces to your palms like eager puppies. It makes you giggle a little, and at the sound they both light up, tails giving a small wag.

“We understand, y/n,” Seokjin says, smiling and blowing you away for a moment with his beauty. “Thank you.”

You nod, appeased for now, and let a few moments of contented silence fall between you all before Seokjin is shifting suddenly, looking very much like he has something further to say. You look to him pointedly and he grows sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“Uh, about what you said earlier… c-could we…?”

You snort softly, sending him a reassuring smile. “Yes, Seokjin, you can scent me. Do what you need to do, pretty boys. I’m yours however you need me.”

The two of them are immediately visibly giddy at your words, though something foreign and dark sparks to life in their eyes. You don’t have enough time to decipher it before Taehyung is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards onto the bed with him. Seokjin immediately shuffles back to accommodate, slotting himself perfectly into your free side when Taehyung nestles into the other. They seek out the crook of your neck on instinct, burying their faces there in sync and making you shiver slightly from the sensation.

They rub their faces against the skin, cheeks pressed to your shoulders, and keep that up for a while. You’re curious as to why that is all they’re doing; when you looked it up earlier, several sources said that certain acts embed the scent more deeply than others. Like rubbing their cheeks against you, versus licking, or even soft kisses as some sites had informed you. Different actions made the scent stronger. Although, you know that neither of them have been in an environment where they’ve been able to do this before, so you know this is all new territory for them as well and they’re unsure of their boundaries. Right on cue as you think this, you sense Seokjin grow slightly tense next to you, his movements slowing.

“y/n…”

You turn, pressing a kiss to the top of his head between his ears. “Seokjin, I know. Do what you feel you need to.”

With verbal permission from you, he sags in relief. At once he returns to clinging to you with a hand clutching your hip on the opposite side, worming beneath the edge of your shirt so he is closer to you. Taehyung shuffles on your other side, doing the same. You feel your heartrate pick up slightly from the way they nuzzle into you, lips brushing your sensitive flesh. It doesn’t help that all you read before is fresh in your mind and you know how scenting can go for hybrids of their type—the idea has your stomach flipping in anticipation.

Taehyung is the first to change his tactics. Burying his nose in your neck, he presses his lips to the skin in a soft kiss before you feel his tongue dart out. It swipes along your sensitive flesh in short strips, the tip of the muscle leaving blots of wetness in its wake—it’s a sensation that tickles slightly as much as it makes your heartrate skyrocket, and you can’t help the soft giggle that slips out as a result. You feel his answering smile moments later.

Seokjin has a similar idea, but his execution differs. His body curls around you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip as he begins to pepper soft kiss after kiss along the column of your neck. He pauses as he nears your hairline, taking a moment to bury his nose in your locks and bask in your scent—you shiver at the feeling and he holds you tighter in his arms.

There’s something about the act that seems to make them succumb that little bit more to their instincts. Unexpectedly, they quickly grow a little bolder. Taehyung pulls the thin strap of your shirt down so he can continue his trail down your shoulder and over the curve of your clavicle. Seokjin’s kisses turn open-mouthed, and he seems to have found a place on your neck just under the curve of your jaw where your scent is strongest—lightly, tenderly, he begins sucking over your pulse point. Your breathing hitches unwittingly in response.

At this point you think you’re going to have a heart attack; your pulse is off the charts and your stomach is a live pool of nerves. Even with what you read, your surprised and alarmed and shamefully a little excited at where this is beginning to go.  Through the haze beginning to permeate your brain, you realise you have to stop them in their tracks before they step too far and can’t go back. Still, it all feels so nice…

You’re only jerked into motion when Taehyung moves, shifting closer and holding himself slightly over you as his mouth maps over your clavicle and begins to move further down. Your heart jumps, and with a surprised squeak trapped in your throat you bring your hand to his head right before he reaches the start of your breast, almost at the edge of the singlet.

“Tae,” is all you say, but your tone seems to bring both of them back to the present a bit. Taehyung shudders, letting out a huff before simply dropping his body down half on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck. Seokjin presses his lips to your skin in one long, final kiss, before burying his face there and relaxing against you as his brother did. Like this, they return to their earlier ministrations, before it began to get… yeah.

Now that they’re no longer making your heartrate jump to unhealthy levels, the longer you’re in their soft embrace the more sluggish and sleepy you feel—their warmth is like a blanket of security and safety thrown over you, their affection soothing any worries or stress you might retain from the week and day. The feeling is mutual; gradually, the two of them begin to slow in their movements, Taehyung’s soft lapping returning to the occasional press of his lips and nuzzle, Seokjin remaining still with his tongue darting out every so often. Without even meaning to, the three of you fall asleep there in each other’s embrace, tension soothed and worries mollified. One last thing crosses your mind before you drift off.

You really are starting to love these two hybrids with all your heart, but after this experience you have to wonder...

Is that the only thing you feel?

a/n: please let me know what u think,, and lmk if u enjoyed this with a like and/or rb!! also feel free to drop an ask, i’m keen to know what u thought! thank u for reading and supporting me!! <3

masterlist || prev. | next.

[celosiaa]

This is my first time sending a message but I just wanted to day that I absolutley love you're writing and read it frequently! I had an idea for a fic or ficlet: Jon has amnesia and cannot remember the archival gang including Martin although he feels a strong connection between each other. I was thinking it would be set after they save the world or after they have come out of Salesa's home maybe due to Jon being detached from the eye for too long. Obviously you dont have to do this but I just think that you are an amazingly talented writer nonetheless.

@malevon​ FINALLY I’VE DONE THE WRITE!! Knocking out two prompts in one with this. I’ve set this one in Salesa’s house. Bit angsty but that’s the name of the game baby

CW panic

The pair of them, the quiet, and two steaming cups of tea. It’s all Martin could ever hope to ask for.

And it’s terribly, horrifyingly wrong.

A small, persistent part of him wants so desperately to have some hope, some shred of optimism left that maybe, just maybe, the wisp of a man leaning into his chest may be able to rest. To heal. To find a way to exist here, without the Eye—without the evil that has been holding him together for so long. Surely, there must be something—god knows Martin has been scratching at every wall, tearing through as much of this place as he can in search of something, anything, that could let Jon stay here in comfort.

A moment, just a moment. It’s all he asks.

But this morning, it had taken Jon entirely too long to recognize him.

Martin.

His Martin.

Even thinking about it now sends that same shiver up his spine, as it had when Jon—for the first time—turned to him with eyes entirely empty. Flat and lifeless, aberrant green faded back into rich brown, and still—still, a nothingness behind it all. He was not Martin to him then, no—he had been a stranger. A stranger to the man he loves, and the only person in all the ruined world who loves him in return.

“Jon,” he calls softly, for what feels like the hundredth time that day. “You with me, love?”

“Mmm,” comes the dim response, throat cracking against the dryness, against the tea he had been unable to drink.

Not good.

“Hey, open your eyes for me—can you look at me?”

“Mmm.”

“Look at me, Jon.”

A gentle shaking of his shoulder, fingers running though his hair—all serve to bring him around again, back to whatever level of awareness he’s capable of at the moment. Even as he does so, Martin prays to find a fever as he presses a kiss to Jon’s forehead; anything that would give him a sign that he’s just ill, that he can fix it, that he can find a way to make him well.

Please let him be well.

“I’m—where?” he mutters, tensing bodily as wide eyes take in every inch of his surroundings, still so unfamiliar to him even after several days in this place.

“With me, love. Look at me,” Martin begs, heart pounding in his chest as Jon turns to him—shaking, panicked—moving his gaze over Martin’s form—

Empty. Unknown.

Oh god oh god

“It’s me, Jon. You’re safe, you’re here with me.”

Martin tries desperately to smile, to keep the tremor out of his voice, to stay calm. Hoping against hope that Jon just had a nightmare, was disoriented, was—

Anything but this.

“Wh-who—I-I don’t—”

“Martin—it’s Martin, love.”

Please please please

Wanting nothing more than to reach for him, to set the comforting warmth of his hand against Jon’s eternally-freezing skin, he knows he should not—not with the way his breath is picking up speed. Shattered—so shattered is Martin’s heart, he feels his own body begin to tremble with the anxious thought that this is it, that he is no longer loved, nor even recognized—

If the Lonely were able to reach this place, he is certain he would sink back into the fog.

“Take a breath with me, Jon,” he pleads, wringing his own hands together to keep from touching him. “You’re—you’re safe here, I promise. You’re safe.”

Jon moves away from him as much as possible in his state, eyes locked, a frightened animal who would certainly run, if only he could stand.

“Wh-who—” he asks, so lost and dizzy and confused that Martin is forced to reach for him before he tips off the side of the sofa.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pulling him upright as gently as he can, silently begging whoever may be in charge that Jon won’t be set back by his touch—

It appears his prayer is received—as Jon goes limp and falls into his chest.

“Oh oh oh, Jon,” he whispers in grief, pulling Jon downwards to rest his head against the pillows, recover, come back to him.

Please wake up please wake up

Please remember

So small, so terribly small does he look that Martin finds himself bracing against the sudden welling of tears. Had he always been this paper-thin? Such a wisp of a man, it’s a wonder Martin can’t see right through him.

Never coming back, he’s never coming back, you’ve stayed too long and it’s all your fault, selfish selfish selfish—

“M’tin?”

The spiral that threatened to overtake him begins to fade in the dawning light of Jon’s voice—rasping and painful as it may be—he’s looking at him, really looking this time. Perhaps it’s not too late, perhaps he—

“Do you—do you know who I am, darling?” he asks shakily, unable to stop himself from running a hand through Jon’s locks, praying that it will bring them both comfort.

“You’re—Martin, you’re Martin,” he slurs vaguely, eyes fluttering closed intermittently in exhaustion.

“Good, that’s good, Jon,” Martin breaths in relief, the tightness in his chest unraveling just a bit at the fact that this was progress, that all was not lost—that he could still get Jon out of here, if he had to carry him.

“I-I don’t—I don’t—”

Immediately his chest clenches again, tight enough to be painful, to make his heart skip for just a moment.

No no please no

“You don’t what, love?” he asks as softly as his voice will go.

“I don’t—I can’t—remember. Who. Th-this,” he stammers, looking down at their joined hands. “I’m—I’m so sorry.”

The bottom has dropped out of Martin’s world—surely he’s falling through the empty air.

“But—my name, you—you remembered my name. Martin.”

“Martin, I…”

Don’t say it don’t say it please don’t say it

“Do I…do I love you?”

God no no no

His eyes—so earnest, honest—already filling with tears. Over a stranger. Over him.

“Yes, Jon,” Martin gasps, trying and failing to choke back sobs of his own. “Yes, y-you…I. I love you. So very much.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers in return, tears slipping down his worn cheeks. “M’so sorry, I can’t—”

“It’s alright. Just…you’re safe. You’re safe here with me, I promise. I promise.”

Aching to reach for him, to wipe every tear—Martin knows he cannot. Cannot touch him, not anymore. After so many days spent in each other’s company, he’s gotten to know Jon’s mind very well; has been made painfully aware of the devastating impact of years worth of trauma, body and soul. No one was allowed in. Not even Martin, sometimes—and now that trust they had only just begun to build is gone gone gone, and Jon is left only with a name.

“Martin,” he murmurs, eyes still transfixed on his face. “I…know you. Your face.”

“Pity you can’t be rid of that.”

He laughs wetly—a tired joke far better than facing the bitter truth of this moment.

“How did…how did we meet?” Jon whispers, sending electricity shooting all through him as he touches his arm, oh so lightly, barely there.

Enough to bring Martin back to the present.

“You’ll…you’ll remember when we get out of here,” he assures, voice hardening into something like a fragile promise. “Right? You’ll remember. We can—we can go now—”

“Tell me.”

Said with no bite, no trace of compulsion.

An honest desire to know.

He’ll remember if you tell him, you can stay here, you’ll find a way, you’ll find it you’ll find it—

“We…worked together,” he begins, allowing just a ghost of smile to color his face. “With—with Tim and Sasha. Do you remember them?”

The names—their names must mean something to him, for Jon’s face falls at the mention, a short gasp belying a forgotten grief resurfaced.

“I…Sasha. Oh…Tim. Why—”

He cuts off rather suddenly, voice breaking as he takes a gasping inhale, clutching at his chest as if it might fall apart.

“Martin,” he sobs, bringing his other hand to clasp over his mouth. “W-why does it—it hurt so much? I-I-I can’t—can’t remember—what h-happened to them?”

“Hush, Jon—”

“It hurts—”

“I know, darling, I know, I’m so sorry—”

Arms outstretched, Martin silently begs for Jon to reach back—and so he does, clinging onto Martin like he’s the only solid thing in this world, the only shred of a person that he has left. Perhaps he is.

“Martin,” he gasps against his shoulder, desperate. “W-what happened? Wh-where—why—”

“Hush, hush now,” he murmurs into Jon’s hair, rocking him as he trembles in his arms. “I’m here. You’re here with me. Try to just focus on that, alright?”

“Martin—”

“You’re safe, and I’m here.”

And I’m going to fix this.

Whatever it takes.

He grits his teeth and holds him close.

[andromedasstarship]

faceless, nameless - chapter 2

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - kylo ren x reader

warnings - canon-typical star wars violence, torture, fighting, angst. 

summary - You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red.

blog rules

a/n - i dont claim any ownership over dialogue pulled directly from the films :) this chapt is like 3.5k so buckle up!!! 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

chapter 1 // next chapter 

-----

the stars

Present Day 

Starkiller Base. 

A few months ago, you had given everyone on base a lesson in First Order torture techniques. Personally, you thought it was a rather pointless activity, knowing full well that none of them would ever be even slightly capable of standing up against Ren. Poe blabbed on about ‘hope’ and ‘they need to be able to find comfort’ and other random ‘good guy’ optimism nonsense. At the end of your lesson you stressed that the best chance they had of keeping their mouth shut was to find a memory- a good one-, and latch onto it as tight as possible until the Order was finished with them. 

Poe was really glad he talked you into giving that lesson, seeing as your advice had helped him withstand the past few hours of near constant torture at the hands of the Order. Various troopers and officers had come and gone, all failing in their attempts to extract what he had done with the last piece of the map to Skywalker. 

Around hour three his body began to give out and all he could think about was how you certainly hadn’t been lying in your constant complaints about how cold Starkiller was. As he faded into unconsciousness, he silently prayed you weren’t having a full blown breakdown and that BB-8 had somehow managed to find you on Jakku. 

When he woke again, no clue how much time had passed, he was greeted with a deep modulated voice from the other end of the room. Ren. 

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Ren stated, voice flat. “Comfortable? 

“Not really.” Poe responded, voice equally as flat. Behind his mask, Ren was staring quizzically down at him. Ren was more than used to the feelings of intense hatred that his prisoners projected towards him- if anything it was the expected response-, but there was something so different about the emotions Poe was projecting, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was so... personal. 

“I'm impressed, no one has been able to get out of you, what you did with the map.” 

It didn’t take a genius to know what was coming next. Not bothering to respond, Poe started to slip back away into his happy memory. In his mind, you were there, back turned to him but he could still hear you laughing as the two of you ran through the field by his childhood home 

He was forcibly removed from the memory when Ren reached outwards, slamming Poe back against the chair, with the Force. “I see.” Ren said darkly, twisting his hand ever so slightly, watching in enjoyment as Poe began to strain against the pressure building in his brain. 

Poe’s mind was panicked, trying in vain to hide the memory of you, but it was too late, as Ren had already caught the tail end of it. 

“Is it a girl that holds the last of the map Dameron?” Ren taunted, forcing his way deeper into Poe’s mind. 

Poe’s face was scrunched up in agony, desperate in his attempts to shield your identity from Ren. Ren mistook the admirable struggle as proof that it was this girl who held the key to the map, rather than Poe’s personal attempts at keeping you safe. Ren continued his mental assault, breaking down every mental wall Poe tried in vain to put up. 

A flash of your masked face. Ren was getting closer. 

Then there it was, you- unmasked, no disguise-, staring up at Poe in his memories. 

Poe in his panic started thinking of every single thing he could- what he ate for breakfast before he left, the color of his favorite shirt, the list of chores he had to do on base-, anything to try and divert Ren from you. 

It was like time stopped, the mental probe retreated only for an instance before Ren was back in Poe’s head with a new unrelenting force, pulling up Poe’s most recent and clear memory of you. 

“I don’t like the idea of this.” You said quietly.

“Have I ever let you down Princess?” Poe said with a grin. When that didn’t seem to amuse you, he put a hand on your cheek, angling your face up towards him. “Three days, I’ll see you on Jakku then. I promise.” 

And then the memory was gone. 

----

Jakku. 

It had been two years since Poe and blondie- you later learned his name was Leokai-, had stumbled upon you bleeding out in the sand. Adjusting to Resistance life had been difficult and for months you thought you’d never gain their trust. It wasn’t until you had accompanied Poe to a Resistance ‘recruitment’ meeting and noticed a First Order operative slinking around the crowded room. You had quite literally dragged Poe as far away from the building and off the planet in a matter of minutes, effectively saving him from giving a ‘we’re right here’ speech directly to the Order. After that, the general opinion about you among Resistance members turned positive. 

You still donned a disguise for their safety, lest their mind was ever blended up by Ren. It was incredibly simple, a well designed wig and different colored contacts. Natural enough that you’d never attract undue attention, but still enough that unless Ren had specific intel to look for this version of you, he’d never double check a fleeting memory that might include you; luckily no one had been unfortunate enough to test this theory. During any official Resistance business or battles you donned a plain white mask that wrapped securely around your face. 

When you first got the mask, you and Poe had had a field day with it, trying to figure out how much movement it could handle before falling off; Leia had actually caught the two of you trying to tie yourself to Poe’s X-Wing to see if that would finally get the thing to move. 

All in all, life with the Resistance was treating you pretty well. Except for right now, as you anxiously waited for Poe in a small nondescript ship on the outskirts of the Niima Outpost in Jakku. Poe, you had quickly learned, was one of the biggest idiots you had ever met. You weren’t exactly sure how he had talked you into splitting up for this mission. Splitting up was never a good idea, how had every horror HoloNet show not taught him that already? But Poe had made an undeniable point, the First Order- the Knights of Ren specifically-, were hot on his trail for the last piece of the map to Skywalker and you couldn’t risk being caught up in that fight. 

So, you agreed to split up. But Poe was late.  Late enough to warrant the uncontrollable worrying. Ever since ‘the incident’ you had developed a horrible case of ‘abandonment issues’; everyone reassured you it was a perfectly reasonable response, but you hated it, the complete lack of control over your own brain drove you nuts. You were pacing back and forth, doing your best to calm your nerves. Wherever Poe was, for his sake, you prayed he had a damn good reason for being late. Knowing that you were full of nerves,  Poe had even given himself a very wide arrival time so you wouldn’t worry. But here you were, worrying . 

Unable to wait around any longer, you decided to gear up and make your way to the outpost. If you were lucky, maybe someone had seen him or maybe you’d even find him yourself. You pulled your hair tight to the back of your head, clipping it in place, before sliding your mask on. As you headed out the doors of the ship you grabbed your staff, slinging it around your shoulder. A year ago, you managed to finally access funds that you had left behind on your home planet. Not only did it help purchase a lot of life saving supplies for the Resistance, it also meant you were able to buy and build a brand new staff for yourself. It wasn’t as advanced or sleek as the one you used in the Order, but it did the job just as well. 

The trek to the outpost would only take less than an hour, giving you adequate time to try and calm your nerves. You made a list as you walked, you made a lot of lists these days, having found it greatly helped in controlling your anxiety. 

Poe was just a bit lost, his sense of direction was never as good on the ground as it was in the air. 

Poe was being his charming self and chatted up someone a little too well and lost track of time. 

You still had your ship and if he wasn’t back by the end of the day you’d be going back to D’Qar and putting together an official search party. 

You struggled for a solid fourth item, but by then you were just reaching the outpost. It was loud and dirty and unlike anything you’d ever been to before. No one gave you a second glance, which you were grateful for. As you made your way through the many stalls you were growing more and more antsy, none of the people you saw being Poe. 

Nearly two hours had passed and you had thoroughly walked through the entirety of the outpost, not that there was much, at least ten times. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to the ship, a familiar shade of orange and beeping caught your attention. You almost fell to your knees in relief when you saw BB-8. Except he wasn’t with Poe, but rather a...scavenger girl? It was like BB-8 could feel your eyes on him, because he turned around to look at you and began beeping excitedly. The girl beside him turned to face you as well and without thinking you got a better grip on your staff and ran at her. 

The girl’s face morphed in confusion, but quickly put together what was happening and got her own staff into position, giving you one last look before she turned and started to run as well. Her hesitation and your own speed meant you easily caught up, swiping at her legs which sent her topping down. She hit the sand hard, not letting it stop her as she rolled to her back and instinctively pushed her staff upwards, expecting yours to come down. 

What she definitely didn’t expect was the electrical end of your staff, on and buzzing, pointed straight at her face. 

“You stole this droid.” You hissed. 

Before she had time to respond, BB-8 was rolling up to the two of you, beeping like hell. It was a funny mix of ‘I’m so excited to see you’ and ‘please don’t hurt this girl’ and ‘I’ve got so many stories to tell you’ and ‘I promise this girl did not steal me’ and other random beeps. He was talking so fast and your head was still clouded with adrenaline, so it took you longer to process what BB just said. As soon as you realized the girl hadn’t just not stolen him, but rather saved him, you turned the electrical current off and pulled your staff away from her face. 

You stuck your hand out, glad she was unable to see the look of pure embarrassment on your face. “I um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have chased you like that, I just saw BB and…,” you trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself. 

Luckily, the girl grasped your hand and lifted herself off the ground. “I would’ve done the same, I think.” She replied, giving you a tentative smile. 

You still had so many questions unanswered, but before you could say anything BB-8 started beeping like crazy again; saying something about how he could see a man up ahead-staring at the three of you-, that was wearing his master’s, Poe’s, jacket. 

Not bothering to apply any of the lessons you had just learned from storming the girl, you switched the electrical end of your staff back on. A quick look at the girl told you she had the same idea, both of you getting better grips on your staffs. Both of you took off in a sprint towards the man and you  almost  felt bad for him- you were clearly taking him by surprise, the way his eyes widened like saucers-, but he was wearing Poe’s jacket. 

His attempt at escaping was short-lived. The girl swung out in front of him, shoving him to the ground- quite similar to what you just did to her-, and you quickly took up the rear, positioning the electrical end right at his throat.  

Everyone was breathing heavily, no one had expected to do so much running today. You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red. You pressed the tip of your staff to his chest, not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to send a shock through his body. 

“I’m only going to ask once,” you started, glaring up at him from behind the mask, “where, did you, get that jacket?” Punctuating each pause with the lightest of electrical taps. 

“Ow! Ow! Quit that! I’ve had a pretty messed up day, alright? I’d appreciate it if you stopped accusing me-” 

“Liar!” You yelled, putting the end back in his face. “You stole it from his master,” you said, tilting your head towards BB-8 who was beeping in agreement, “I’ll give you one more chance to answer honestly.” 

FN-2187 raised his hands up in surrender. You studied his face for a moment, searching for any signs of deception; there weren't any, but that explained nothing. “I swear! I swear, his name is Poe. That’s right? Poe Dameron.” 

At the sound of Poe’s name your shoulders relaxed a little bit, but the relaxation was short lived as you FN-2187 continued. 

“He was captured by the First Order.” 

No. 

“I helped him escape okay, but we crashed a little further out,” FN-2187 was silent for a moment, “Poe didn’t make it.” 

No No No No No No No No No. 

“You’re…, you’re lying.” You said angrily, unable to accept that as truth. When all FN-2187 did was give you a look full of  pity, you hit the switch on your staff, pulling it back to your body. “You’re lying…” You repeated, much weaker this time, glad that they were unable to see the tears forming behind the mask. 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” FN-2187 said quietly, in a voice that was just the right amount of sincere to be true. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw BB-8 start to roll away, you couldn’t let him get lost now. “If you even, think, about running away while I go get the droid, you won’t live to see another day.” You threatened, quickly turning on your heel to go catch up with BB. 

In your absence, the girl and FN-2187 were both still quite winded. At least you had gone into the outpost knowing there was potential for action, the two of them were completely caught off guard. 

“Are you with the Resistance too then?” The girl asked. 

A fleeting look of confusion appeared on FN-2187’s face before he jumped up and nodded. “Yes, yes I am. I am part of the Resistance. A Resistance member.” 

“I’ve never met a real Resistance member before. And now in one day, I’ve met two.” The girl replied, with a gentle smile on her face. 

By the time you managed to get BB and ‘drag’ him back to where the other two were standing, they had finished their conversation. FN-2187 tensed up when you reappeared, something you were okay with, not wanting him to feel too comfortable around you. 

No one had time to say anything before the sound of blaster fire diverted all of your attentions. A quick look up at the sky confirmed your one of your worst fears, the First Order was here. FN-2187 grabbed both of your hands and started pulling.

“Don’t grab my hand!” You and the girl both shouted out, but running alongside him anyway. The three of you weaved your way out of the Outpost, doing your best to avoid the unrelenting fire of bullets and bomber shots the Order was raining down on you. 

“They’re gunning for me!” FN-2187 screamed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“They’re gunning for all of us, especially the droid. Now keep up!” You yelled back. It didn’t take much mental strain to understand that if Poe had really been captured and had really crashed on Jakku after escaping, that the Order would’ve followed him here. Your feet pounded the sand, pushing yourself ahead of FN. 

“We can’t outrun them!” FN-2187 called out from behind you. 

The girl was ahead of you and she pointed out towards a quad jumper. “We might! In that quad jumper.” All of you running towards it as fast as you could. 

Of course, as soon as the words left her lips, the TIE fighter tailing you blew the thing to smithereens. All three of you seemed to pause for a moment before the girl started running towards a hunk of,- oh my god was that the Millenium Falcon-  junk to her left. 

“Hey! We still need a pilot!” FN-2187 screamed, still running a few paces behind you. 

“I can pilot anything!” You yelled out, not bothering to look at him over your shoulder. The three of you, plus BB, raced up the walkway of the ship, slamming the door shut behind you. 

“Gunning position is down there.” Rey said hurriedly, pointing at a set of stairs. She didn’t look back as she rushed ahead to the pilots seat. 

Just as FN-2187 got ready to mount the stairs you grabbed him by the back of Poe’s jacket and yanked him around to face you. 

“Not the time-”

“If you do anything down there to make me believe you’re still working for them, FN-2187, I won’t hesitate to come down here and gouge your eyeballs out myself.” You spat, relishing in the way his eyes widened at the use of his official call number. You didn’t give him the chance to reply, just let go of his jacket and made your way to the front of the ship to co-pilot. 

The girl was already pulling the ship into the air by the time you made it up there. You wasted no time, quickly throwing yourself into the chair beside her. Both of you fumbled to pull on headsets as you worked the controls. “Stay low.” You ordered. 

She gave you a confused look. “What?” 

“Stay low,” you said more urgently, “it confuses their tracking.” 

The girl went low and you were glad you were strapped in. You didn’t expect the smoothest of rides, but it was certainly  jerky . 

The constant sound and feel of blaster shots hitting the exterior of the ship were making it difficult to focus. “What are you doing down there!” You screamed into the headset. “Shoot back!” 

“I’m trying,” FN screamed back up, “are the shields up?” 

You blindly reached over and smacked a button. “Yes! Now shoot !” You yelled. 

Where FN-2187 was lacking, the girl was making up for it tenfold with her piloting ability; this girl was good. Internally, you knew you were being unreasonably hard on him; it wasn’t so far fetched to believe that someone would defect from the Order, hell you defected- even if it wasn’t necessarily your choice-, and your position and relationship to the Order had been much more intimate and substantial than a ‘trooper. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you focused on helping the girl pilot the ship. The two of you working in unison to attempt to shake the TIE’s trailing you.

“Hold on!” She shouted and in the background you could hear FN asking what for. The girl pulled on the steering hard and you went veering to the right before she rolled the ship around, giving FN the perfect shot at the last TIE. You internally promised yourself, that if he missed this fighter you’d be fulfilling your eye gouging promise. Luckily for all of you, but especially FN-2187, he blew the TIE fighter right out of the sky. 

“Wooo!” In the rush of the moment, you weren’t exactly sure who was whooping and hollering, it might as well have been all of you. 

Once you felt the ship was out of imminent danger and safely gliding through space, you relaxed back into your seat. Looking over at the girl you smiled, even though she couldn't see it, you hoped she was able to read the emotion from your eyes. You think she could, by the way she smiled real big back at you. 

She stuck her hand out and said, “My name is Rey. The guy downstairs said he’s Finn and he’s with the Resistance too.” 

-----

a/n - im having so much fun with this yall dont even know. likes/replies/reblogs always appreciated and if youd like to be tagged just ask! 

taglist: @egguuuu​ @sunflowersandotherthings​ @clarizuliani10​ @kylorendrip​

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own star wars or any of the character involved in it. 

[virgiltheanxious]

The Love Never Dies (Polyamsanders)

Title: The Love Never Dies

Pairing: polyamsanders

Warning: swearing, tell me if any need to be tagged

Word Count: 1441

Summary:7.“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.” 30. “I heard that!” “You were supposed to!” 34. “I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”and 43. “Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”  

Masterlist

(A/N): I wrote this in March and i dont think i ever posted it so here :,)

Tags: Ask if you want to be tagged!

General: @my-happy-little-bean @nightmarejasmine Polyamsanders: @liberalautisticnerd831

Virgil stirred the sugar in his coffee and yawned, blinking his eyes a few times to get the sleepiness out of them. He picked up the mug and brought it to the table. He sat down and put his head in one hand, slowly bringing the cup up and taking a sip. He was surprised no one else was up and getting ready for the day. It was 6:45 A.M. which was a little early but Patton usually made breakfast, Roman was usually blabbering about something, and Logan usually was sat at the table reading a book about space and drinking coffee.

Virgil wasn’t entirely complaining, though, because the quiet was a little bit nice and refreshing. Pulling out his phone, Virgil opened Tumblr and scrolled through a bit, taking sips of his coffee every time he paused to read a long post. He glanced at the time and noticed that it was still only 6:55. Groaning, Virgil put his head on his table. He adjusted his body so his head was on an arm and he could still see his phone as he scrolled once more.

“Ah, Virgil! Nice to see you up already- Oh, are you sleeping?” Virgil heard Roman’s voice call out.

Virgil snapped his head up, almost knocking over his cup in the process.

“Does it look like I’m asleep?” Virgil sneered, quickly covering his mouth with his mug and taking a sip.

Roman rolled his eyes, responding to defend his case, “What was that for, emo nightmare?”

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity,” Virgil quipped, rolling his eyes more dramatically than Roman had.

“Your head was down on the table, you can’t blame me for the mistake,” Roman said, walking towards the kitchen.

With Roman’s back turned Virgil made a face at him, wagging his phone in the ear because that /should/ have made it obvious that he wasn't asleep. Roman turned back and Virgil went to normal, taking a sip of his coffee. He looked back down at his phone and only looked at Roman when he saw his back turned again. Virgil smiled slightly from behind his cup.

“Good morning, Virgil, Roman. I do hope you slept well,” Logan said, adjusting his tie as he walked towards the coffee machine.

“I got a full 9 hours! Beauty sleep is important. I’m not sure our ~insert nickname here~ was as successful, though. He seems cranky,” Roman complained.

Virgil glared at the back of his head. As the coffee machine finished dispensing, Logan’s coffee, Logan sat down across from Virgil and looked him dead in the eyes. Virgil shrank down from Logan’s intimidating stare.

“So, Virgil. How much sleep /did/ you get?” Logan asked, using both hands to bring his coffee mug to his mouth.

Virgil slouched even further. “Uh… three hours, maybe?”

“Virgil, we have talked about this. Getting a full nine hours is the optimal amount of sleep for functioning properly. It is also important for your body to get that amount of sleep so it can refresh from the day before. You really should be getting eight and a half hours at the least,” Logan ranted, pushing up his glasses.

Virgil looked down, a little bit guilty, and stirred what was left of his coffee again. He sighed as he heard Patton coming down the stairs and put his head back on the table, this time pushing away his coffee.

“Morning!” Patton’s cheery voice ripped through the quiet sounds of Roman putting together the ingredients for a smoothie. “Virge, you shouldn’t sleep at the table, it’s not good for your back!” Patton scolded, pulling Virgil up. Virgil frowned in response, causing Patton to pull his chair out and squat down just enough so they were at eye level with each other.

“Hey, are you okay Virgil?” He asked, searching Virgil’s eyes.

Virgil only rolled them in response. “I’m fine, but I’d surely be better if Teach could not lecture me ‘bout my sleeping habits. It’s not like I can help it anyway,” Virgil muttered, looking down and pulling his sleeve over his hand.

“Well, I’m sure he’s just worried about you because he loves you!” Patton exclaimed, popping back up and patting Virgil’s head. Virgil grinned the slightest bit and “fixed” his hair. Virgil looked up to see Patton hit Logan lightly as he walked past.

“I do suppose that I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned,” Logan said, immediately taking a sip from his own coffee and avoiding Virgil’s gaze.

“...I love you too, Lo.”

Roman chose that moment to turn on the blender and Virgil groaned. “Princey! Can you not! I was sorta having a moment!” Virgil shouted, much loud enough for Roman to hear. But Roman didn’t move to turn off the blender.

Virgil sighed in relief when it was turned off a minute later. “Thank god,” he muttered finishing off his coffee. Only to hear it turn back on again not too soon after.

“Oh come on! Princey, I know you don’t even need it turned on again, so cut it out!” Virgil yelled, looking at Roman who was staring at him with a smirk and a devious glint in his eyes.

Virgil got up and walked over to him, moving to turn off the blender himself, but got blocked by Roman. He kept trying but to no avail as Roman blocked him each and every time. Virgil held hi hands over his ears, tired of the loud noise that the blender made.

“For the love of god turn it off!” Virgil said, clenching his eyes shut and not opening them until the sound stopped. He didn’t move his hands until he felt Roman bring them away. He looked up at Roman, teary eyed.

“Virgil, my love! I am so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought it was harmless-” Virgil muttered something under his breath, not meeting Roman’s eye anymore. “What was that, my love?”

“I said, I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass,” Virgil smirked, wiping the fake tears from his eyes and looking up at Roman.

“Why, that was just cruel!” Roman complained as Virgil made his way back to the table.

“Virgil, language!” Patton scolded, waving his spatula at Virgil’s back.

Virgil just looked at Logan, who smiled at him as he sat down next to him. He reached across the table to grab his empty coffee mug and fiddled with it. He waited patiently for breakfast, listening to Logan talk to Patton from across the room. Patton was soon finished and had the plates at the table.

“Thank you, Patton. This seems to be a satisfactory breakfast. I commend you on your work,” Logan said as a plate was put in front of him.

“Of course, Lo! Thank you for eating it,” Patton said, sitting in his own seat next to Roman.

-----

“-And then I brought my sword up and it glimmered in the light, just like in all those movies-”

“Roman you’re so extra,” Virgil said, moving some eggs around on his plate.

“I heard that!” Roman shouted, standing up and stopping his retelling of a story

“You were supposed to!” Virgil said back, giggling to himself. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth and looked up at Roman who looked down at him with the biggest grin on his face. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Aw, Virge! That was so adorable!” Patton squealed. Virgil sank down in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Stop it.” He commanded, glaring across the table at both of the sides.

“I must say, your giggle was pleasing to my ears,” Logan commented, making Virgil snap his head to the left and look at his half grin.

“Logan, not you too! You’re supposed to be on my side with these things!” Virgil shouted.

“Aw, Virgil, just let us tell you how much we love you~” Patton requested, putting his head in one hand and gazing dreamily at the said side.

“...I guess you can,” Virgil reluctantly responded, knowing it would make Patton happy.

Virgil felt someone grasp his right hand and looked at Logan in surprise, since he normally wasn’t the one that showed his affection physically. Not that he did often in any other way, but it just seemed random to Virgil.

But he wasn’t going to complain.

[50shadesofjakemckenzie]

The Vampire Diaries (Endless Summer AU)

OKAY SO LIKE I DONT KNOW IF ANYONE WILL LIKE THIS OR IF IT’LL BE TOTALLY STUPID!! Let me know :)

M/C is Taylor in this! (Jake x MC)

-

I awoke to the blaring of my alarm clock. My hands rubbed ruthlessly at my eyes, dreading the first day of my junior year. After a few more moments, I managed to shut off the obnoxious sound and escaped the comfort of my wonderful bed. 

Quickly getting ready, I took a few moments to write in my diary for some form of emotional release.

Dear Diary: Today will be different. It has to be. I will smile, and it will be believable. My smile will say, “I’m fine, thank you. Yes, I feel much better.” I will no longer be the sad little girl that lost her parents. I will start fresh, be someone new. It’s the only way I’ll make it through. 

My mind drifts to my parents, but I don’t allow my thoughts to linger for very long. If I was so desperate to get past this, I’d have to try much harder than I had been recently. If not for my sake, for the sake of my brother Diego and my aunt Lila.

I shove the leather bound book into my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder. Hurrying down the stairs of our beloved home, I stop briefly in the kitchen to grab an apple. My aunt Lila is busy on her laptop, dressed impeccably, likely for another job interview.

“Where’s Diego?” I question her, glancing around the otherwise empty kitchen. She shrugs, her eyes still trained on the lit screen before her. 

“He left a while ago, something about getting to school early,” She explains, pulling her focus from the laptop screen. Lila stands from her seat at the kitchen table rushing towards me, a bright smile across her features as she engulfs me in a bone crushing hug. “Have a great first day, hun. If you need anything, let me know!” 

I flash her the first fake smile of the day before pulling away from her tight grasp. As I leave the safety of my home, Quinn’s car is quick to pull up to the sidewalk. She excitedly waves at me from the interior of her new vehicle, motioning me to quicken my pace.

I do as told, holding onto the strap of my backpack as I rush towards her car. She props the passenger door open for me, a squeal escaping her lips as I slide onto the leather seat. I flash yet another fake smile as she begins to emphasize her excitement for junior year.

She finally asks the dreaded question, “How are you doing?”

My practiced smile plays at my lips, “I’m fine, thank you.” She frowns immediately at my response, knowing damn well that I was far from fine. 

Instead of pressing on the subject she begins to talk about her time spent at her grandmother’s house her the summer. “So Grams is telling me I’m psychic. Our ancestors were from Salem, which isn’t all that,” As she continues, we pass the town’s cemetery and I can’t tear my gaze from the sight. Just the smallest glance towards the place and I’m transported back to the car crash, then to the hospital, then to their funeral.

I turn back towards Quinn, attempting to feign interest and optimism. Thankfully, we soon arrive at the high school, Quinn carefully maneuvering her vehicle into one of the open parking spots. As we clamber out of the car, I’m quick to catch sight of many familiar faces.

My neck cranes as I hope to find Diego, but unfortunately, he’s nowhere to be seen. I sigh as I fall into step with Quinn, the pair of us nearing the dreadful prison. The two of us chat about nothing in particular, Quinn focusing on the lack of attractive boys.

As I position myself near her locker, allowing her to collect her books, Michelle is quick to approach us. She engulfs me in a tight hug, “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you!” Her chocolate brown eyes quickly search mine before turning to the red-headed girl beside me. “How is she? Is she good?” She questions as if I wasn’t even there.

“Michelle, I’m right here. And I’m fine, thank you.” I say with a plastered smile, causing Michelle’s features to brighten in return. She hugs me once more before releasing me to rush to her first period.

As she leaves, I catch sight of Diego rushing into the bathroom, tears in his eyes. I whisper to Quinn explaining the situation before following after him, unashamedly entering the boys bathroom. Boys immediately seem to groan uncomfortably at the sight of me, but I only roll my eyes and yell at them to leave in response.

Diego stands in front of a mirror, his hands gripping tightly at the sink in front of him. Immediately I rush to his side, my hand rubbing comfortingly at his back. 

His breathing is ragged, causing me to take long exaggerated breaths in order to encourage him to follow along. Ever since the accident, Diego’s anxiety and depression had only intensified. He struggled to socialize with anyone other than Lila and I, so I could only imagine how this atmosphere was affecting him.

As his breaths slowed and became much more regular, I pulled my palm from his back. “Are you feeling any better?” I question quietly. Diego nods, a small smile playing at his lips. 

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” He states gratefully, pulling me into a hug. I nod into his chest before escaping his grasp, looking at him one last time. He smiles once more and I watch him exit the bathroom, leaving me alone for the first time today.

I rub my hands over my face, savoring this final moment to myself before strutting out of the bathroom straight into a stranger. “Pardon me,” The deep voice states, as I step away. He was gorgeous, for sure. A black leather jacket hugged his toned body, his bright blue eyes seemed to shine as he pushed his shaggy blonde hair from his forehead. I watch as his eyes dart from me to the bathroom door, “Is this the men’s room?” 

I laugh nervously as I try to come up with some response, “Uh yes. It’s a long story,” I manage to choke out with a laugh. We stumble around each other as I make my way towards my first period, looking over my shoulder in order to steal one last glance at the handsome stranger.

At the end of the day, I find myself at the cemetery once more. My feet lead me to my parents’ graves and I sit at the head of them, fishing my diary from my bag. I begin to write about the day and how meaningless it all was. 

Suddenly, a crow flies above me until it lands upon their headstone. It shrieks loudly as fog seems to fill the dampened ground beneath me, the eery setting sending chills up my spine. I stand from my spot, attempting to shoo the bird from the gravesite, wanting nothing more than to escape the ominous scene. As the bird flies away, I can’t help but shake the feeling that something, or someone, was watching me.

I couldn’t explain it, but I no longer felt safe here. I scramble to shove my belongings back into my bag before sprinting away, my feet pounding against the slanted ground. My breaths quicken as my heart seems to race, my thoughts solely trained on escaping. However, my clumsiness prevails as I trip over a tree root. I feel my ankle scrape against the ground, but I’m quick to pick myself up.

As I glance around, I turn only to be met with the handsome stranger I encountered at school earlier today. His blue eyes are filled with concern as they focus on me. “Are you okay?” He questions quietly, as if we weren’t the only two people in the area. I gasp, struggling to catch my breath after the short run.

“Were you following me?” I question in return.

He is quick to respond, “No, I just saw you fall,” 

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “And you just happen to be hanging out in a cemetery,” I say, skepticism laced within my voice.

“I’m visiting family here,” He explains, his voice solemn.

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry, it’s the fog, it’s making me foggy. And back there, there was this bird and it was all very Hitchcock for a second. That is the bird movie, right, Hitchcock?” As the words tumble from my mouth, I can’t help the laughter that escapes my throat. I’m pleased to see the stranger smile at my apparent nerves and simply smile as well. “I’m Taylor,” I finally manage to introduce myself.

“I’m Jake,” He states in response.

I smile, “I know, we have history together,” 

“And English and French,” He retorts, causing my smile to widen. He glances towards my hair, cautiously pulling a leaf from my tangled strands. My cheeks redden at the small interaction, and I thank him quietly. I compliment him on the large ring adorning his finger and he explains that its an heirloom.

“Did you hurt yourself?” He suddenly asks.

I shrug, before propping my foot so I can pull up my pant leg. Not at all to my surprise, a cut resides right above my ankle, fresh blood oozing from the spot. I notice Jake turn away suddenly, as if revolted by the sight. My eyebrows furrow, “Are you okay?” I question.

His voice turns cold as he responds, “You should go, take care of that,”

I shake my head, assuring Jake it was nothing but a scrape. However, as I pull the material back down and stand up straight, I’m confused to see I was utterly alone. Jake was nowhere to be seen, it was as if he disappeared into thin air. I was completely perplexed, but also completely intrigued.

[viraljournalist]

Ten NBA things I like and don't like, including the Luka Doncic-Dwight Powell dance

New Post has been published on https://viraljournalist.com/ten-nba-things-i-like-and-dont-like-including-the-luka-doncic-dwight-powell-dance/

Ten NBA things I like and don't like, including the Luka Doncic-Dwight Powell dance

How about a fresh serving of 10 NBA things:

1. The tricks of Ja Morant

Morant’s athleticism and fearlessness strike you first. He is so fast. He wants to dunk on everyone — to humiliate victims, the bigger the better.

All that is cool. But what is most impressive about Morant — the runaway Rookie of the Year — is his veteran craft. He already knows how to start and stop with a live dribble, and keep defenses guessing until the best option reveals itself. He sees every pass. He imagines passes no one else sees, and conjures them with dribble moves designed to shift the defense in some specific way.

You just don’t see rookies doing stuff like this:

That fake spin — the Smitty — dusts damn near the entire LA Clippers team. The one-handed lefty gather into a reverse layup is borderline pornographic. That insta-gather is already a Morant trademark — useful in tight spaces.

He has a mean pass fake:

He busts it out on the perimeter to freeze help defenders:

A lot of ball handlers turn statuesque when someone else takes the controls. Not Morant. He weaponizes his speed as an off-ball cutter.

Morant isn’t the only reason the Memphis Grizzlies — 13-6 since early December — have improbably surged into the Western Conference’s No. 8 spot. Their three core big men — Jonas Valanciunas, Jaren Jackson Jr. and Brandon Clarke — are balling, and their bizarro bench is obliterating opponents.

But Morant is driving it. He is real. He is a superstar in the making playing winning basketball. He belongs at the edges of the All-Star conversation right now.

2. Drivin’ De’Aaron Fox

After two months of injuries and uneven play, Fox is back on his ascent toward becoming the Sacramento Kings’ franchise point guard. In seven January games, Fox is averaging 24 points and 8.5 assists on 50% shooting. He is driving more often, with more guile and ferocity.

Fox is earning seven free throws per 36 minutes — easily a career high. He is piling up almost 29 drives per 100 possessions, second among rotation players — and up from 15 and 18 in his prior two seasons, per Second Spectrum data. He has drawn fouls on 13% of those drives, 16th highest among 173 guys who have recorded at least 100 drives.

1 Related

Fox is still searching for the right pass-or-score balance, and the Kings under Luke Walton haven’t landed on a coherent identity. (Injuries to Fox and Marvin Bagley III have stalled progress there.) They are playing at one of the league’s slowest paces, though they amp it up some with Fox on the floor.

The next step for Fox is dialing in on defense, where he has disappointed this season. The Kings won’t go anywhere too serious until the Fox/Buddy Hield backcourt proves it can survive on that end.

3. Forfeiting mismatches

A pet peeve:

This isn’t about the Orlando Magic. Every team does this now and then: Spot a juicy mismatch, and default into a pick-and-roll that allows the defense to switch that mismatch away.

The Utah Jazz are stuck with Emmanuel Mudiay on Aaron Gordon. If you want to post Gordon up, do it when he can mash a smaller dude. Instead, D.J. Augustin and Gordon gift the Jazz a switch.

Come on. Disengage autopilot and read the game. The right kind of post-up can still be an effective scoring option. They also are fun to watch. The league needs stylistic diversity.

You know who rarely bungles this? The Indiana Pacers with Domantas Sabonis. Their old-school mentality serves them well when they earn a switch, or when the opposing power forward is stuck defending Sabonis. The Pacers in those scenarios are ruthless. They are surgical. They abort whatever plan they had and hunt that mismatch.

4. Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, off the glass

The notorious S.G.A. is already one of the league’s shiftiest ball handlers — a long-limbed, change-of-pace phantom who seems to move at two or three different speeds at once. Guarding him is like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands.

He also is a premier bank shot artist, smooching from unconventional angles:

That is a little close to the baseline for most players to go glass. Gilgeous-Alexander has the touch to pull it off. That one hits pretty low on the backboard, but Gilgeous-Alexander will kiss the ball off the tippy-top if need be.

The straight-on banker is underused — a tricky work of depth perception that can increase your margin for error on harried floaters. Gilgeous-Alexander has it in his bag:

Only 10 players have attempted more glassers than Gilgeous-Alexander, per Second Spectrum. (Russell Westbrook has tried by far the most — almost double the No. 2 guy.) Coming off a ridiculous 20-20-10 game, Gilgeous-Alexander has a fringe All-Star case: 20 points, six rebounds and three assists per game, decent shooting, solid defense.

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It is a hard case to parse. Each member of Oklahoma City’s three-headed point guard monster has sacrificed something. Gilgeous-Alexander has stepped back into a secondary ballhandling role behind Chris Paul (probably a better All-Star candidate) and Dennis Schroder (in the running for Sixth Man of the Year). Gilgeous-Alexander has logged only 40 minutes as solo floor general — without either Schroder or Paul.

I recently debated with a few non-Thunder executives whether Gilgeous-Alexander would grow into an All-NBA player. That they framed the question in those terms — and not around whether Gilgeous-Alexander will make All-Star teams — is indicative of how good he has been.

5. Still waiting on Aaron Gordon

Boy, did Gordon need this recent mini-hot streak: 60 points on 23-of-39 shooting over Orlando’s last three outings, and a last-second game-winner Monday in Sacramento. It has otherwise been a stilted, disappointing season for Gordon.

I thought this was the year it might finally happen for him. I predicted Gordon would make the All-Star Game.

Instead, Gordon’s production on offense has dipped across the board, though he remains engaged on the other end. There are three theoretical Gordons: the player Gordon wants to be; the player Orlando wants him to be; and the player Orlando needs him to be because of their roster construction. The actual Gordon is paralyzed in some sort of existential tension between all three.

The first player — Gordon’s dream for himself — is a ball-dominant scorer. Orlando indulges that Gordon by calling occasional post-ups for him and giving him some freedom to go rogue. Gordon can make hay against smaller players. He has done well on scripted duck-ins. But too many of his forays into would-be stardom end with bricked fadeaways:

A player this powerful should not spend so much time spinning away from the hoop. He rarely draws fouls. The Magic have scored 0.826 points per possession anytime Gordon shoots out of a post-up or passes to a teammate who fires right away — 74th among 96 players who have recorded at least 25 post-ups, per Second Spectrum data. He is not much of an inside-out playmaker. A full 77% of those post-ups have ended with Gordon shooting — the second highest such rate in that sample.

The best version of Gordon on a good team is something like his take on Draymond Green: screening and rolling as a power forward, spraying passes (Gordon is an underrated playmaker), defending like all hell across every position. The Magic have never put Gordon in optimal position to find that role. They shoehorned him onto the wing next to Serge Ibaka and now Jonathan Isaac.

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That is not on its face unworkable. Some of those ultra-big Magic lineups have performed well — including last season. Talented frontcourt partners render positional designations irrelevant. What position would Gordon play next to, say, Kevin Durant and a traditional center in Brooklyn? Isaac has some blossoming all-around skill on offense.

But Isaac also is very young. Before Isaac’s injury, it felt — from the outside — Orlando was reaching the point at which it would have to make a final call on Gordon. There are teams who would give a lot for Gordon. Isaac’s knee injury may have put off those decisions. The Magic don’t have to rush. Gordon is still just 24.

But stasis often becomes untenable.

6. The Bucks, going under

Almost every team scurries under picks against bad shooters, but Milwaukee does it more dramatically and against many more players. The Bucks treat every so-so shooter like Ben Simmons. Present Milwaukee with Kris Dunn or RJ Barrett (two recent examples) and its on-ball defenders hang almost in the paint — a step or two further back than most teams prefer. They form a shell that is really hard to puncture.

They don’t deviate if some Dunn type hits a couple of long 2s. The Bucks understand math. They know their scheme plays mind games with opposing shooters — even non-terrible ones. They’re going so far under. This is embarrassing. Am I really supposed to keep shooting? Boom — the shot clock is down to 8, and you’ve accomplished nothing.

This is such low-hanging fruit. Every team should imitate Mike Budenholzer’s exaggerated “go under” ethos.

Of course, later playoff rounds offer very few awful shooters — and almost none beyond Simmons who handle the ball. It would be interesting to see Milwaukee’s approach in a series against the Miami Heat and Jimmy Butler — shooting just 27% from deep this season and 36% for his career on long 2s.

7. When young guys forget who is guarding them, Part I

Oh, Jordan Poole.

That’s Kawhi Leonard. At his apex, the mere act of possessing the ball within a 15-foot radius of Leonard was dangerous for anyone outside the league’s most deft point guards. Forget dribbling. Poor saps held the ball close to their chest — terror sweat pouring from their brow, eyes darting in search of some passing target — until Leonard would simply reach out and take it. It was cruel. It was bullying.

Leonard isn’t the same impenetrable wall today, and he saves his best stuff for high-leverage playoff moments. But you can’t be Jordan freaking Poole and dangle the ball in front of him. This is like living next door to Thomas Crown, buying a masterwork, and leaving your front door wide open all night. What do you think is going to happen?

There has been much fretting of late about the Clippers’ underwhelming performances against the dregs of the league. Meh. One of Leonard and Paul George has missed most of those games. Wake me up when the real Clippers struggle.

The Clippers also seem like a mortal lock to make a win-now trade. They have use-it-or-kinda-lose-it assets ticking toward evaporation. They can trade their 2020 first-round pick, but that is the last one they can move (as things stand now) before their 2028 selection. They have Maurice Harkless’ $11 million expiring contract, and a few semi-expendable midsized salaries.

The Clippers would rather add talent (via in-season free agency) without trading anything. Harkless is solid — a starter most of the season. That 2020 pick represents one of LA’s only means of acquiring a young player who might help Leonard and George as they age.

But the Clippers are all-in. George and Leonard can hit free agency in 18 months. They should prioritize this year over everything.

Part II of young guys failing to respect their elders is coming next week.

8. Respect the Mavs’ other big men

I never got the mostly quashed rumblings Dallas might be interested in Andre Drummond. Kristaps Porzingis should eventually play more as the Mavs’ lone big man, and in the meantime, Maxi Kleber and Dwight Powell are doing just fine alongside him.

Skeptics in the preseason perceived the Mavs roster as top heavy: two stars and a motley crew of bench guys. It’s true (it’s damn true!) Dallas does not have anyone like a third member of past championship Big 3s. But they do have (by my count) seven guys you might describe as quality fifth starters — seven fifth-best players, all but one (Tim Hardaway Jr.) on value contracts. There is power in giving zero minutes to below-average players.

Powell has always been a dangerous rim-runner, but he has exploded as Luka Doncic’s go-to pick-and-roll dance partner. Only three player pairs have teamed up on that play more often. (For trivia purposes, the top three in volume: Spencer Dinwiddie/Jarrett Allen, Damian Lillard/Hassan Whiteside, and the Lou Williams/Montrezl Harrell symphony.)

The Mavs average a ginormous 1.18 points per possession anytime Doncic or Powell shoots out of the pick-and-roll, or passes to a teammate who launches — ninth-best among 226 duos who have run at least 100 such plays, per Second Spectrum.

Powell has improved as a passer on the move — crucial when teams trap Doncic:

Kleber does a little of everything. He’s a serviceable screen-and-dive guy. He is hitting 41% from deep on a career-high attempt rate, and he makes canny plays off the bounce when defenses rush at him:

Kleber is a sturdy, smart defender across multiple positions. Rick Carlisle has trusted him to guard extra-large ball-handlers, including LeBron, Giannis Antetokounmpo, and Simmons. He’s a solid rim protector with some hops.

Dallas is starting Kleber and Powell in the absence of Porzingis, and the Mavs have outscored opponents by 13 points per 100 possessions with both on the floor.

Kleber and Powell earn $18 million combined this season — $9 million less than Drummond. Drummond holds a much-discussed player option for 2020-21. Kleber and Powell are under contract through 2023. Leaving aside money and whatever assets Detroit might demand, it’s unclear whether giving Kleber/Powell minutes to Drummond would even make Dallas any better.

9. Miami is one player away, but who?

This is a minor quibble considering the Heat are 28-12 and a robust 10-6 against teams at .500 or better. Maybe the “one player” is Justise Winslow, who is still out with a back injury after returning for a single game last week.

Winslow is (in theory) the well-rounded small-ball power forward to unlock lineups featuring Bam Adebayo at center. Meyers Leonard is shooting 45% from deep as Miami’s nominal starting center, but there are lots of games in which he never sees the floor after his first stint in each half. Kelly Olynyk is barely playing.

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Right now, Derrick Jones Jr. and James Johnson are holding down that Winslow slot. Johnson looks feisty after a long stint in Heat purgatory. He’s 10-of-20 on 3s. But his jumper is unreliable, and he is regaining the team’s trust.

Jones has taken the lion’s share of these minutes over the last month. His arms are everywhere. He is the keystone of Miami’s zone defense. Lineups with Jones and Adebayo at power forward and center have done well.

But are you trusting Jones to close playoff games? He’s shooting 23% from deep. Defenses ignore him on the perimeter to muck up Miami’s spacing.

Miami has tried to solve the equation at times by going super-small, with Jimmy Butler at power forward. That is a little too small. Adebayo is so strong and athletic, you forget he’s only 6-9. Miami has been a middle-of-the-pack defensive team after a stingy start. They have to be careful.

They are one player away from being really dangerous. They know. They are looking, sources say. A lot of speculation about the Heat — and other teams — has centered around Jrue Holiday. He’s good. The Pelicans may opt to keep him and push for the No. 8 seed. (This is what suitors expect as of now — which could of course change.)

But I wonder if Miami has a more pressing need for a stretch power forward with some defensive chops to fill that Winslow/Jones/Johnson slot. (Winslow returning to form could render this moot.) Danilo Gallinari would be a worthy rental, but the Thunder might be too good to trade him. It’s also unclear whether Miami has any appetite for surrendering any players who are or could be (i.e., Winslow) key parts of their current rotation.

Regardless, keep an eye on Miami.

10. Marcus Smart is coming at you

What in the hell is this?

I’ve seen defenders close out low to distract shooters, but they usually resemble football tacklers. They aim for the stomach. I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone crouch toward the shooter’s foot. Smart looks like he’s trying to pick something up off the floor.

I honestly don’t know how anyone shoots 3s against Boston without worrying what kind of goofy closeout awaits. Jaylen Brown jumps straight up and down with all his might, and reaches both arms as high as he can — a technique Al Horford mastered, and something the Celtics teach. Brace for that, and Smart comes nipping at your ankles.

What’s next? Jayson Tatum running at shooters, screaming gibberish and waving his arms? Kemba Walker experimenting with some kind of drop-and-roll technique?

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[stajadajinx]

Gateway Review

Gateway review (Gateway by Robin Palmer, Jonas Lindgren & Trevor Carr Review)! What's inside Gateway? Gateway is a step-by-training course that reveals how you can tap into YouTube, a 1.8 BILLION user traffic source, without measure what everyone hates. Showing their perspective upon camera and recording your voice! tolerate it or not, weve figured out a pretentiousness where you DONT have to law your slant upon camera for the world to see. Nor do you compulsion to play-act your face. all is covered in the training, no rock is left un-turned Honestly - this is exactly what I accomplish for years now and by going through it - I yet discovered a bunch of golden nuggets!

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[filmgurmesi]

Gateway Review

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[mariartapocolypse]

Gateway Review

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If you're enjoying this Gateway review and desire to learn more virtually Gateway, check out my in severity video review above!

[missmeowss]

Gateway Review

Gateway evaluation (Gateway by Robin Palmer, Jonas Lindgren & Trevor Carr Review)! What's inside Gateway? Gateway is a step-by-training course that reveals how you can tap into YouTube, a 1.8 BILLION user traffic source, without produce an effect what everyone hates. Showing their face on camera and recording your voice! say you will it or not, weve figured out a mannerism where you DONT have to be in your aim on camera for the world to see. Nor pull off you infatuation to comport yourself your face. everything is covered in the training, no stone is left un-turned Honestly - this is exactly what I realize for years now and by going through it - I nevertheless discovered a bunch of golden nuggets!

Gateway review - I'm continuously innate asked by my subscribers for simple ways to generate pardon traffic. And frankly, its not a surpriseBecause 99.9% of marketers fail due to a nonappearance of traffic. Pay close attention Because youre approximately to discover how we opened the gateway to this 1.8 BILLION user source.And how were exploiting it for 100% release trafficthat makes $100-300 or MORE a daylight online.

But dont admit our word for it, allow the proof talk for itself You see, most gurus rarely tell you what their traffic source is, thats because they have whatever to conceal from you. Not these guys, though, nope. They have nothing to hide from you, the traffic source is YouTube - and it's not what you think... you don't have to film your slope or even photograph album your voice!

I know, its scary for some but divert listen me out THOUGHT YOUTUBE WAS consequently 2017? THINK AGAIN! YouTube Is More Lucrative Than Ever BeforeOVERLOOKED BY MOST MARKETERS. Most Marketers end taking place Ignoring YouTube Because They Think They craving To comport yourself Their point of view upon Camera. spacious International Audience. YouTube Is well-liked And Lucrative In higher than 56 interchange Countries!

2nd Largest Search Engine. YouTube Is A instinctive Sized Search Engine, The 2nd Biggest unaccompanied at the rear Google Worth $160 Billion Dollars. YouTube Is Estimated To Be Worth going on To $160 Billion Dollars!

If Its suitably Great, then WHY ISNT EVERYONE ELSE pretend IT? Well, because YouTube is normally utterly epoch consuming & requires you to put yourself out there . Heres whats typically required: research, filming, editing, optimizing, uploading, seo, and much more - well, you don't have to complete any of it past Gateway!

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[awhitedudewithablogg]

Gateway Review

Gateway evaluation (Gateway by Robin Palmer, Jonas Lindgren & Trevor Carr Review)! What's inside Gateway? Gateway is a step-by-training course that reveals how you can tap into YouTube, a 1.8 BILLION addict traffic source, without feint what everyone hates. Showing their position on camera and recording your voice! admit it or not, weve figured out a habit where you DONT have to play your position upon camera for the world to see. Nor get you obsession to play a role your face. everything is covered in the training, no stone is left un-turned Honestly - this is exactly what I accomplish for years now and by going through it - I still discovered a bunch of golden nuggets!

Gateway evaluation - I'm every time creature asked by my subscribers for simple ways to generate forgive traffic. And frankly, its not a surpriseBecause 99.9% of marketers fail due to a lack of traffic. Pay close attention Because youre about to discover how we opened the gateway to this 1.8 BILLION user source.And how were exploiting it for 100% clear trafficthat makes $100-300 or MORE a daylight online.

But dont acknowledge our word for it, let the proof talk for itself You see, most gurus rarely tell you what their traffic source is, thats because they have anything to hide from you. Not these guys, though, nope. They have nothing to hide from you, the traffic source is YouTube - and it's not what you think... you don't have to film your incline or even collection your voice!

I know, its scary for some but keep amused hear me out THOUGHT YOUTUBE WAS appropriately 2017? THINK AGAIN! YouTube Is More Lucrative Than Ever BeforeOVERLOOKED BY MOST MARKETERS. Most Marketers end happening Ignoring YouTube Because They Think They infatuation To show Their direction upon Camera. broad International Audience. YouTube Is popular And Lucrative In on top of 56 alternative Countries!

2nd Largest Search Engine. YouTube Is A innate Sized Search Engine, The 2nd Biggest single-handedly at the rear Google Worth $160 Billion Dollars. YouTube Is Estimated To Be Worth in the works To $160 Billion Dollars!

If Its as a result Great, then WHY ISNT EVERYONE ELSE be in IT? Well, because YouTube is normally enormously times absorbing & requires you to put yourself out there . Heres whats typically required: research, filming, editing, optimizing, uploading, seo, and much more - well, you don't have to pull off any of it similar to Gateway!

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[dragon-spice]

Gateway Review

Gateway review (Gateway by Robin Palmer, Jonas Lindgren & Trevor Carr Review)! What's inside Gateway? Gateway is a step-by-training course that reveals how you can tap into YouTube, a 1.8 BILLION user traffic source, without performance what everyone hates. Showing their point of view upon camera and recording your voice! understand it or not, weve figured out a mannerism where you DONT have to action your aim upon camera for the world to see. Nor realize you infatuation to show your face. all is covered in the training, no stone is left un-turned Honestly - this is exactly what I attain for years now and by going through it - I yet discovered a bunch of golden nuggets!

Gateway review - I'm continually subconscious asked by my subscribers for easy ways to generate release traffic. And frankly, its not a surpriseBecause 99.9% of marketers fail due to a nonattendance of traffic. Pay close attention Because youre practically to discover how we opened the gateway to this 1.8 BILLION user source.And how were exploiting it for 100% pardon trafficthat makes $100-300 or MORE a day online.

But dont assume our word for it, allow the proof talk for itself You see, most gurus rarely tell you what their traffic source is, thats because they have all to hide from you. Not these guys, though, nope. They have nothing to hide from you, the traffic source is YouTube - and it's not what you think... you don't have to film your position or even book your voice!

I know, its scary for some but make laugh listen me out THOUGHT YOUTUBE WAS suitably 2017? THINK AGAIN! YouTube Is More Lucrative Than Ever BeforeOVERLOOKED BY MOST MARKETERS. Most Marketers stop occurring Ignoring YouTube Because They Think They craving To feign Their face upon Camera. spacious International Audience. YouTube Is popular And Lucrative In on top of 56 different Countries!

2nd Largest Search Engine. YouTube Is A mammal Sized Search Engine, The 2nd Biggest only at the rear Google Worth $160 Billion Dollars. YouTube Is Estimated To Be Worth taking place To $160 Billion Dollars!

If Its as a result Great, subsequently WHY ISNT EVERYONE ELSE accomplish IT? Well, because YouTube is normally enormously period consuming & requires you to put yourself out there . Heres whats typically required: research, filming, editing, optimizing, uploading, seo, and much more - well, you don't have to pull off any of it behind Gateway!

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[ssweet-noone]

Gateway Review

Gateway evaluation (Gateway by Robin Palmer, Jonas Lindgren & Trevor Carr Review)! What's inside Gateway? Gateway is a step-by-training course that reveals how you can tap into YouTube, a 1.8 BILLION user traffic source, without appear in what everyone hates. Showing their direction on camera and recording your voice! resign yourself to it or not, weve figured out a pretentiousness where you DONT have to do something your slant on camera for the world to see. Nor accomplish you craving to play in your face. anything is covered in the training, no rock is left un-turned Honestly - this is exactly what I pull off for years now and by going through it - I nevertheless discovered a bunch of golden nuggets!

Gateway evaluation - I'm for eternity monster asked by my subscribers for simple ways to generate free traffic. And frankly, its not a surpriseBecause 99.9% of marketers fail due to a want of traffic. Pay close attention Because youre just about to discover how we opened the gateway to this 1.8 BILLION addict source.And how were exploiting it for 100% free trafficthat makes $100-300 or MORE a daylight online.

But dont say you will our word for it, allow the proof speak for itself You see, most gurus rarely say you what their traffic source is, thats because they have everything to conceal from you. Not these guys, though, nope. They have nothing to conceal from you, the traffic source is YouTube - and it's not what you think... you don't have to film your point or even collection your voice!

I know, its scary for some but keep amused listen me out THOUGHT YOUTUBE WAS so 2017? THINK AGAIN! YouTube Is More Lucrative Than Ever BeforeOVERLOOKED BY MOST MARKETERS. Most Marketers end up Ignoring YouTube Because They Think They dependence To produce a result Their viewpoint on Camera. expansive International Audience. YouTube Is well-liked And Lucrative In more than 56 interchange Countries!

2nd Largest Search Engine. YouTube Is A visceral Sized Search Engine, The 2nd Biggest unaccompanied at the rear Google Worth $160 Billion Dollars. YouTube Is Estimated To Be Worth up To $160 Billion Dollars!

If Its so Great, next WHY ISNT EVERYONE ELSE play-act IT? Well, because YouTube is normally utterly get older consuming & requires you to put yourself out there . Heres whats typically required: research, filming, editing, optimizing, uploading, seo, and much more - well, you don't have to attain any of it as soon as Gateway!

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If you're enjoying this Gateway review and desire to learn more just about Gateway, check out my in depth video review above!

[karunator]

Gateway Review

Gateway evaluation (Gateway by Robin Palmer, Jonas Lindgren & Trevor Carr Review)! What's inside Gateway? Gateway is a step-by-training course that reveals how you can tap into YouTube, a 1.8 BILLION addict traffic source, without put it on what everyone hates. Showing their tilt on camera and recording your voice! give a positive response it or not, weve figured out a mannerism where you DONT have to deed your aim on camera for the world to see. Nor pull off you habit to acquit yourself your face. all is covered in the training, no stone is left un-turned Honestly - this is exactly what I accomplish for years now and by going through it - I still discovered a bunch of golden nuggets!

Gateway review - I'm for eternity inborn asked by my subscribers for simple ways to generate free traffic. And frankly, its not a surpriseBecause 99.9% of marketers fail due to a dearth of traffic. Pay close attention Because youre virtually to discover how we opened the gateway to this 1.8 BILLION user source.And how were exploiting it for 100% pardon trafficthat makes $100-300 or MORE a daylight online.

But dont agree to our word for it, let the proof speak for itself You see, most gurus rarely say you what their traffic source is, thats because they have everything to hide from you. Not these guys, though, nope. They have nothing to hide from you, the traffic source is YouTube - and it's not what you think... you don't have to film your direction or even photo album your voice!

I know, its scary for some but occupy hear me out THOUGHT YOUTUBE WAS fittingly 2017? THINK AGAIN! YouTube Is More Lucrative Than Ever BeforeOVERLOOKED BY MOST MARKETERS. Most Marketers end happening Ignoring YouTube Because They Think They infatuation To piece of legislation Their point upon Camera. expansive International Audience. YouTube Is popular And Lucrative In greater than 56 swing Countries!

2nd Largest Search Engine. YouTube Is A innate Sized Search Engine, The 2nd Biggest abandoned at the rear Google Worth $160 Billion Dollars. YouTube Is Estimated To Be Worth occurring To $160 Billion Dollars!

If Its for that reason Great, later WHY ISNT EVERYONE ELSE act out IT? Well, because YouTube is normally extremely get older consuming & requires you to put yourself out there . Heres whats typically required: research, filming, editing, optimizing, uploading, seo, and much more - well, you don't have to reach any of it with Gateway!

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