#like the few times i get email responses tho i never have high hopes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notalwaysthevillian · 5 years ago

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Parent Trapped

Warnings: Anxiety, self-deprecation, food mention

Pairings: Eventual Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~3k

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Masterlist

Chapter 2: First Week of School

The next morning should’ve been absolute chaos, but it went surprisingly smooth. Emile woke first, getting ready for the day before heading downstairs to make breakfast for the boys. Patton was the next to rise, jumping in the shower as Virgil came downstairs to eat. The two switched places when Patton was done.

Once everyone was ready to go, the three of them made sure they had everything before jumping in the car.

“Are you guys excited for your first day?”

Virgil shrank in his seat. “You mean our first day in the middle of the school year? When we know absolutely no one and we’re the freaky new kids?”

“V, it’s okay.” Patton reached over and squeezed his hand. “We have a few classes together, and since we’re new we’ll probably sit together. And we share the same lunch.”

“I’ve talked to the principal over email.” Emile glanced at his sons in the back. “He seems like a very nice man. When I mentioned your anxiety disorder he said that he’d let the teachers know.”

Shrinking even further, Virgil threw his hoodie up. After a moment, he bolted upright. “What if they make me take my hood down?”

“They won’t, I made sure of it.” Emile said, his voice stern. “And if any of the teachers give you trouble for it, I want you to tell Mr. Sanders at the earliest opportunity. He understands that it helps you feel less anxious, even if it’s only a little bit.”

They pulled up to the school. There were kids pouring in from the buses, as well as the parking lot. Patton looked excited, but Virgil looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I believe in you.” Emile smiled at him in the mirror.

Steeling his shoulders, Virgil got out of the car. He hunched over immediately, glancing at Patton who was still in the car.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Patton just caught Emile’s nod as he got out of the car. Once the boys were at a safe distance from the curb, he drove off, waving in the mirror.

“We should go find our lockers.” Virgil mumbled, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie.

The two of them fell into step as they headed down the hallway. A few people turned to look at them, but for the most part people kept to themselves.

The whispers were what worried Virgil. Especially when he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

They’re talking about you.

They think you’re a freak.

You’re not going to fit in here no matter how hard you try.

Luckily, Patton had noticed as soon as Virgil started to sink into his thoughts. He bumped their shoulders together, getting Virgil’s attention.

“What’s your first class?”

Virgil pulled out his schedule. He scanned the first column, glad that the school had been kind enough to give them a map along with their schedules. Not that the building was very big anyway.

“Um...Physical Science.”

“I’ll run into you as you leave then.” Patton said, putting his schedule up to Virgil’s. “I have that one second hour. You’ll have to warn me if there’s a pop quiz.”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Definitely. And you’ll have to warn me about any in English.”

“Of course.”

They reached their lockers, which were side by side, and quickly dumped what they wouldn’t need until after lunch.

“I can walk you to science if you want.” Patton offered.

Virgil shook his head. “I can’t be the freak that needs his brother to walk him to his classes.”

“V…”

“I’ll be okay. Promise.”

Virgil held out his pinky. Patton took it and they shook.

“See you in Algebra!” Patton said as he headed off.

Virgil turned around, heading in the opposite direction. It took him about two minutes to find the science hallway. He walked down the hall, checking the room numbers against his schedule, double checking when he found the right room.

He walked in, heading up to the teacher’s desk immediately. Mrs. Calypso glanced up as he approached, giving him a genuine smile.

“Virgil, right?” She said, keeping her voice low. “I’m Mrs. Calypso. Tho - Principal Sanders talked to me about your anxiety, so I won’t be introducing you to the class.”

Reaching into a drawer, she pulled out a textbook. There was a toucan emblazoned on the cover. “This is our textbook. You guys actually came in at a really good time, most of us are starting new sections today. I don’t think Le - Mr. Anderson is starting anything new, but volleyball is pretty easy to pick up.”

“Thank you.” Virgil took the textbook from her. He shifted his weight. “Um...where should I sit?”

“Oh! Right.” She glanced at a sheet of paper in front of her. “Logan sits by himself, you could join him.”

She pointed to a small boy with perfectly styled red hair. His glasses were a lot different than Patton’s. Patton preferred round glasses, but this boy seemed to prefer the square ones. It made him look smart and slightly intimidating.

As Virgil approached, Logan looked up from his book. “Hello. My name is Logan.”

“Mrs. Calypso told me.” Virgil said, wanting to mentally smack himself immediately. “I’m Virgil.”

Logan nodded, glancing at the clock above Virgil’s head. “I suggest you skim over the chapter. It’ll help you be able to answer Mrs. Calypso’s questions faster.”

“Cool.”

Virgil pulled out his notebook, folder, and a pencil before dropping his backpack at his feet. He started going over the first few paragraphs of the chapter, interrupted when the bell rang.

“Alright, class, if you’d open your books to chapter eight, we can get started.”

Virgil’s first few classes went by fairly quickly. Mrs. Calypso was extremely nice. A few times he’d panicked, thinking she was going to call on him, but she called on Logan instead. He was obviously the smartest kid in the class, something Virgil was grateful for.

When science had ended, Logan had given him a smile before heading out. Virgil bumped into Patton on the way to English, letting him know there wasn’t a pop quiz and getting a giggle in response.

Mx. Stokes was just as cool as Mrs. Calypso was nice. They had a huge non-binary flag up on the wall, informed Virgil of their pronouns right away, and had handed him a small Shakespeare anthology.

“We’re working our way through Hamlet right now.” They’d said as they handed the book over. “If you know the Lion King, you’re good.”

Virgil was glad he wasn’t picked on to read any of the lines, knowing he’d mess it up. Instead he gave his opinion on what a few of the pieces of foreshadowing were, earning a smile and nod from Mx. Stokes in the process.

By the time he reached math, he was a lot calmer. None of the students seemed to really care that there were some new kids, ignoring him since he was ignoring them.

“You look happy.” Patton said once Virgil had sat down next to him.

Mr. Lockwood shut the door as soon as the bell rang. One unlucky student showed up a few seconds later, opening the door and slinking to their desk.

“We have a few new students today.” He gestured to Virgil and Patton. Virgil immediately started sinking in his seat. “Virgil and Patton Picani. You can get to know them on your own time. Our new unit today is polynomials.”

There were a few groans from the class.

“Yes, yes, I know, math sucks. It’s still my job to teach you and get you to understand the material by any means necessary.” After a moment of silence, he pulled out a remote. “And today’s means are a video.”

The class cheered as the projector was turned on, starting to warm up.

After one more class without Patton, since he’d opted for Spanish and Patton had opted for ASL, they met at their lockers.

“ASL is so much fun!” He gushed as they dumped their morning books and grabbed their stuff for the afternoon. “Our teacher, Talyn, shows us videos while we do the signs. It’s so much easier to figure it out that way!”

“That’s really cool, Pat.” Virgil slipped his backpack straps over his shoulders as they walked to the lunchroom.

Since the school was small, the lunchroom was too. Virgil was relieved to find out that it wasn’t the giant, two-story area he was thinking of. High School Musical wasn’t the best depiction of high school, but it was all he knew.

They moved through the line, grabbing some rubbery looking pizza, a fruit cup, and a sugar cookie.

“This looks nasty.” Virgil said as they sat at an empty table in the corner. “I’m definitely packing a lunch the rest of the year.”

“It might not be that bad!” Patton took a bite of the pizza. “The pizza is okay. No Little Caesar’s, but it’s...edible.”

The two of them choked down their lunches. By the time they were finished, the cafeteria was mostly cleared out. Following the few students left, Patton and Virgil found that most of the students headed off to wherever they wanted to, using their spare lunch time as a little bit of a free period.

Virgil glanced at the kids before starting to shuffle down the hall. “I’m gonna get my stuff and head to History.”

“Okay!” Patton started walking with him. “I’m gonna head to the gym. Mr. Anderson should probably know how clumsy I am before he decides where I’m going on the volleyball court.”

“You’re not that clumsy.”

The two of them burst into giggles at Virgil’s claim. Patton was known for tripping over the slightest thing. Sometimes that included his own feet. But Virgil and their dad never made him feel bad about it, telling Patton that it simply added to his charm.

Once they’d gathered their stuff from their lockers, the two of them went their separate ways once more. Virgil headed off to history with Mr. Foote, and Patton headed to the gym.

There were a few students already over there, heading into the locker room. Patton went into the gym first, hoping to talk to Mr. Anderson before class started.

“Woah, you need your uniform tod -” Mr. Anderson stopped himself. “I apologize, you must be one of the new students. Let me see...Patton?”

“That’s me!” Patton said, giving him a smile. “I wanted to warn you before class started. I’m really clumsy.”

“Even the clumsiest among us can be great athletes.” Mr. Anderson looked up, marking a few students off on his clipboard. “Don’t worry, Patton, I’m here to make sure no one gets hurt, whether it be intentional or an accident. And when I can’t prevent that, Nurse Britches does an excellent job at patching people up.”

Patton giggled, leaving Mr. Anderson to talk to the students who had just walked in. He quickly changed into his uniform and tennis shoes, throwing the rest of his stuff in his gym locker.

“You’re new.”

Green eyes looked up at Patton from the nearest bench. The boy was tying his shoes, the red accents matching his bandana perfectly.

“I’m Patton.”

The boy stood, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “Roman.”

“I thought we had to wear the uniform.” Patton said as they headed out of the locker room.

Roman shot him a mischievous grin. “If you check the handbook, the rules say we have to wear the uniform. It doesn’t say anything about us not being able to add anything to it. Though once Principal Sanders figures that out, he’ll probably fix it for next year.”

Patton let out a giggle. “I mean, you’re still following the rules.”

“Technically, yeah.”

They filed into the gym with the rest of the class. Mr. Anderson, who insisted Patton call him Coach Leo, split them up into teams before letting them loose.

Patton was lucky enough to be on Roman’s team. “I’m pretty clumsy, so…”

“Everyone gets a turn in each spot.” Roman said, nudging him into the back center. “Of course, that’s if the other team can hit the ball back over. I’m the best server in the class.”

Class flew by, with Roman scoring point after point. Once he’d fully decimated the other team, Coach Leo called out a rule that servers could only score five points in a row, and then the team had to rotate.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll still win.” Roman mumbled under his breath.

And he was right. Their team was the winner at the end of class, with no losses on their record.

“Tomorrow we’ll work on some of the basics again.” Coach Leo said as the bell rang.

Roman and Patton headed to the locker room to change back into their normal clothes.

“So where did you sit at lunch today?” Roman asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Over in the corner with my twin.”

“You have a twin?!” Roman practically shrieked.

No one gave them a second glance, telling Patton that he must do this a lot. “Mhmm. His name is Virgil.”

“Well, I cannot wait to meet your twin tomorrow.” When he noticed Patton’s confused look, Roman continued. “You two have to sit with me and my friends. And my brother.”

“Your brother isn’t your friend?”

Roman waved a hand in the air. “Kinda sorta. I gotta run to English, see you later!”

By the time the day was over, Patton was loaded down with homework. He was happy to see Virgil when he reached his locker to get all the books he’d need.

“Why is there so much to do?!” Virgil asked as he packed practically all of their textbooks into his backpack. The zipper refused to go up all the way, so he just left it open a crack.

Patton shrugged. “Because we came in during the middle of the year?”

“Nah, it’s just because everyone started a new section on the same day.” Tanya told them as she walked up. Her bubblegum snapped as she popped a bubble. “It’s not normally like that.”

“I guess we’re just lucky.” Hoisting up his backpack, Virgil slung it over one shoulder. “We should go find Dad.”

Patton nodded before turning to Tanya. “Did you need a ride home?”

“Nah, I take the bus.” Tanya adjusted her backpack. “Gives me some time with my friends. But I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye!”

The Picanis headed out of the double doors, finding their dad waiting a little down the block. As soon as they got in, he gave them a huge smile.

“How was school?”

Virgil and Patton looked at each other. Virgil waved his hand and Patton started talking first.

“It was a lot of fun, even though we have a lot of homework. I met a lot of people and I made a new friend! His name is Roman, he’s in my gym class. Oh! And my ASL teacher is super cool. They show us videos to learn the signs and it makes it a lot easier. Um...I think that’s it.”

“I’m glad you made a friend! He’ll have to come over sometime soon so I can meet him.” Emile switched his gaze to his other son in the rearview mirror. “Virgil? How’d it go?”

“It went alright. My English teacher is really cool. We’re doing Hamlet, which they told me is just like the Lion King. And I think I made a friend? He’s in my science class and we sit together. He doesn’t talk a lot unless he’s answering a question.”

“What’s his name?”

“Logan. And he’s short, so I think he might have skipped a grade or something, but I didn’t want to ask him.” As he finished his sentence, Virgil flipped up his hood, putting in his headphones.

The next day at lunch, Patton dragged Virgil over to where Roman was sitting. Virgil noticed Logan sitting at the emptier end of the table, eyes moving over a book in front of him as he ate.

“The name’s Roman.” Roman said to Virgil, who responded with a half smile and a wave. Waving his hand down the table, Roman introduced everyone else. “That’s Alex, Quil, and Nessa. The one at the end who’s ignoring everyone is my brother, Logan.”

“Logan’s your brother?” Virgil asked.

Logan finally looked up when he heard Virgil’s voice. “Sadly.”

“Hey!”

“If you want some semblance of peace and quiet, I’d suggest you join the loner end of the table.” Logan continued, ignoring his brother’s shout of protest.

Virgil immediately moved across from Logan, hearing Roman grumble under his breath. Patton easily distracted him with a question, leaving Virgil and Logan to themselves.

“How are you two related?” Virgil asked as he watched Roman talk with his hands.

Logan flipped a page in his book. “We’re not. By blood, I mean. I was adopted.”

“Oh.” Virgil bit his lip, not sure what to say. “Um, that’s cool.”

“It would be if my father and brother weren’t such lunatics.”

The only thing tipping Virgil off that Logan was joking was the tiniest twitch in the corner of his mouth. Once Virgil started laughing, Logan did too.

“Oh my god, he laughs.” Roman teased from the other end of the table, earning himself a rude gesture from Logan.

That, combined with the offended gasp from Roman and a scolding from Patton, made Virgil laugh even harder. Tears started streaming down his face as he continued, unable to stop for a good minute or so.

The rest of the week became routine. Patton and Virgil ate at Roman and Logan’s table every single day. The four of them became fairly good friends by the end of the week.

Good enough friends for Roman to come in on Friday, excitement sparkling in his eyes, and say, “My dad said you guys could sleep over tonight.”

Ice spread through Virgil’s veins at the thought. He stammered out some sort of excuse before taking off, leaving his lunchbox behind.

“Was it something I said?” Roman asked as he stared at were Virgil had been.

Patton quickly got up, grabbing Virgil’s lunchbox. “He - it’s - I’ll text you later and explain, okay? I don’t want to say something he doesn’t want me to say.”

Roman simply nodded as Patton took off to go find his brother.

#platonic moxiety #platonic logince #platonic lamp #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #emile picani #anxiety #self-deprecation #food mention

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honeyedhoseok · 6 years ago

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Don’t You Need Me?

Genre | Angst, Taehyung x Female reader, friends->lovers->friends? au

Word Count | 9.6K

Summary | “Send me back in time, to those nights when we had it all / Will this come out right?” Set 1 year into Y/N and Hongbins relationship; You and Taehyung timidly rekindle your friendship online and then in person when Taehyung moves less than fifteen minutes away–which leads to dinner, wine and a sensual moment that was never supposed to happen.

Warnings | Language, slight smut (dry humping), mentions of weed and alcohol

A/N | Here’s the next part of The V2 Series, a flashback that details the first time Y/N and Taehyung ever hooked up after breaking up in high school. Thanks @sleevelessparkjimin for being my plot coordinator & helping me soooo much with this, you’re the best :* Enjoy! <3

— Set 1 year into your relationship with Hongbin —

You stare at the blinking cursor on your screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard of your laptop, stomach twisted in nervousness. The feeling either stems from the venti caramel macchiato that you just chugged on an empty stomach—which has been known to leave you anxious and trembling on more than one occasion—or, more accurately, it may have something to do with the decision you are currently contemplating.

Your eyes graze over the home screen of your Facebook, where you stopped scrolling in awe at a status update from a former . . . friend.

Kim Taehyung is feeling accomplished—with Kim Eon Jin and 2 others.

Underneath is a picture of Taehyung in a graduation cap, his parents flanking him on either side mirroring his signature smile with ones of their own. Taehyung had a reason to feel proud—in high school he’d sworn he wasn’t going to go to college; he’d said it wasn’t for him, it was for people who had done better than him and who actually had a chance at surviving two more years of education.

Like you, he’d said. You’re smart. You should definitely go back to school, baby.

The nickname echoes in your head. You can still hear the soft tone of it, the way sometimes he’d caress your cheek when he said it, the way he’d whine the word when he wanted you to get off the couch and get him something to drink because he didn’t want to miss a minute of the game, the way he’d make it come out of your own mouth in a more wanton way when you two were—

This, you think, is why after you break up with someone, you should delete them from all social media. And if you were at all smart like Taehyung thought you were, you would have done it a long time ago. Because then you wouldn’t be thinking of sending a congratulatory message to a person you hadn’t spoken to in over two years.

It could be simple, right? Just a “congrats,” nothing else. That wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?

Your fingers jump over the keyboard, itching to write the message and get it over with, so you place your hands under your legs. You glance around at the Starbucks cafe, trying to catch any suspicious eyes averting to yours, wondering why you are concentrating so hard on the tiny screen of your computer.

When your gaze is unmet, you look back at the screen, at that god damn blinking cursor that is mocking you in the comment section of Taehyung’s status. Why were you so scared? Two years was a lot of time to mature—and if you did it in a mature, nonchalant way, Taehyung would also take it as a mature compliment . . . right?

But then, who all would be able to see it? Everything that you commented on or liked on Facebook and any other social media always ended up on your friends timelines. A public comment wasn’t a good idea. A DM, instead? Or was that too personal? Too closed off? Too secret?

You groan outwardly, leaning back in your seat. A woman to your right reading a novel at a small table glances over at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“This is stupid,” you murmur to yourself quietly. “Just do it!”

You quickly pull up your chat and type Taehyung’s name into a new box and start your message:

Hey, congrats on graduating

Too brief. Do it again.

Hey, an Associates! That’s awesome! Always knew you would get there one day. Remember in high school when

Too long-winded. And too fucking happy. Again.

Hey, uh, just wanted to say congrats on the achievement

“UH”? Were you a bumbling moron?

Hey, long time no talk

You pause, biting your lip. That was casual, right?

Hey, long time no talk. Just wanted to congratulate you on getting your degree, and I hope you’ve been doing well :)

You let out a long breath of air from your nose, reading the two lines over and over again until you finally hit ‘Send,’ and close out of the app as quickly as you can. You close the lid of your laptop too, realizing for the first time that your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, pulse singing in your veins. It feels good, but you’re worried it won’t last long. What if he didn’t even answer back?

You don’t give yourself much time to dwell. You pack up your things, throwing away your empty venti cup in the trash can beside the door as you exit the cafe. You decide to give it twenty-four hours before you check to see if he read it, just to save yourself from disappointment and from looking over-eager to reply to him—if he decided to reply .

But Taehyung doesn’t care about either of those things, obviously, because as soon as you are settled into the front seat of your car, your phone buzzes with a message:

Y/N! Thanks so much. I never thought I’d get there, honestly. & it HAS been such a long time . . . how are you?

— 1 month later —

“Can you pause it?” you ask Yeonwoo. “I have to pee.”

She rolls her eyes. “This is like the third time!” she groans, but pulls the remote from underneath her blanket and hits pause. “We’re never going to finish the HP series at this point.”

You two were having a movie marathon during a dreary Saturday—as the movie paused, you could hear rain splatter heavily against the windows in the living room—and Yeonwoo had insisted you start the Harry Potter series from her favorite, The Goblet of Fire. You were actually a fan of The Prisoner of Azkaban, but when you suggested watching it first, Yeonwoo had acted like she hadn’t heard you.

“It’s the margaritas!” you yell, already halfway down the hallway to your bedroom. “Stop judging me!”

As you round the corner into your bedroom, you whip out your phone from your hoodie pocket, tapping twice on the screen to make it light up.

The first message you have is from Hongbin, an email sent thirty minutes ago:

I have a meeting tonight after work. I’m sorry I keep cancelling our anniversary dinner, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.

-Hongbin

He wasn’t allowed on his phone during work hours, so he’d resorted in the last few months to a distant, formal mode of communication that the computer on his desktop would allow him. You hated it, mostly because a message from work meant the inevitable—Hongbin was telling you he was getting off late and/or cancelling plans. Today it was both.

You use the bathroom and wash your hands, drying them off on a towel next to you before picking your phone back up. You bite your lip, reading over the message once more. Your anniversary was three weekends ago, and Hongbin and you still weren’t able to celebrate because of his demanding schedule. You just wanted some time with him, but Hongbin insisted on getting dolled up and taking you out—which led to reservations and a special time allotted that he, in turn, kept being unable to make.

You sigh. There’s nothing you can do—sending back a biting remark or getting mad would do nothing. Hongbin was working hard at his firm, determined to climb the ladder after his father. Who were you to complain about that process? He had drive, ambition, goals—and what did that matter in the face of his girlfriend wanting to spend a little time with him after a year of dating?

As you exit out of the email app, your phone vibrates in your hand, alerting a new message in a private Facebook chat. You click it open, revealing a smiling picture of Taehyung standing beside a road sign—one that you recognize well. Underneath the caption reads:

Guess who has two thumbs and just moved all their shit into an apartment here?

You break out into a grin instantly, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Shut UP! No fucking way! You got the job at the library???

Taehyung is typing . . .

Duh! Those fuckers want me to start Monday

I don’t have a bed frame or a comforter

My mattress is sitting on the floor with just a navy fitted sheet on it

You breathe out an airy laugh before sending your response.

Lmaooooo, poor kid

Congrats tho

That was so quick, you’re insane

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up!!

& thnx :) How’s your day going?

“Y/N, this century, please!” Yeonwoo yells from the living room. “Jesus.”

You send a quick movie marathon w/ Yeonwoo. Harry potter to Taehyung before tucking your phone back into your hoodie and walking back to the living room. You fall back on the couch, bundling up with your blanket and margarita glass.

“Sorry,” you say, giving her a smile. “Press play!”

Hongbin 9:36pm

Just getting home. I’m so tired

You roll your eyes at the message, throwing your phone back down onto your bed. You were cuddled up in a blanket, catching up on shows on your DVR while Yeonwoo was getting dressed for a night downtown. It was still raining, so you’d decided to stay in—but your roommate obviously didn’t care about her hair or herself getting wet whatsoever as she stepped into your room donning a short, black skirt.

“Is this cute?” she asks, turning around in a circle. “Maybe with a jean jacket or something?”

You nod. “What about that rugged one you just got from the thrift store a few days ago?”

She disappears again, some rustling coming from her room as she searches. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” she calls. “We can pick one place and stay there, so we don’t get soaked!”

“I’m fine,” you say back, eyes trained on the TV. “I’m not really feeling it, just gonna watch some shows or something.”

Yeonwoo comes back into your room a few moments later, hair curled in pretty, loose ringlets and outfit complete with a skirt, floral top, jean jacket and boots.

“Good?” she asks.

“Cute,” you say. “You leaving now?”

“Yeah, I just called the Uber. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home, okay?”

You nod, listening to the sound of her boots clunking down the hallway before the front door opens and closes. You sigh. You probably should have went with her, knowing how she gets, but you hope that for once she can handle herself without you. Or that one of her friends is playing the “mom” card for the night. You wanted to sulk for a little bit; if your boyfriend was going to cancel plans, you might as well sit inside and do nothing and it be completely his fault.

You settle back into your blankets, trying to refocus on your show when your phone vibrates again by your thigh. You’re thinking it’s Yeonwoo, saying she forgot to lock the front door, or Hongbin, wondering why you haven’t responded to his earlier messages—but it’s neither.

Video Call from Kim Taehyung…

You stare at the screen, bewildered. Looking back at you is the reflection of someone who should not be seen in video form—but you find yourself hitting the ‘Accept’ button, anyways. Taehyung and you don’t video chat, so this is new.

Taehyung’s face fills the screen immediately, and your heart jumps at the sight. He’s wearing a dark beanie, his ashy blonde locks sticking out from the front and sides a little. In an awkward silence, he blinks twice into the camera, making sure he isn’t frozen from his side of the connection.

“Y/N?” he says with caution, and your breath hitches quietly at the sound of your name coming out of his mouth after so long.

Of course, with you and Taehyung having reconnected on social media a month ago, you’d done your fair share of stalking his profile—looking at pictures, status updates, his tagged content—but seeing his face on the screen of your phone was something else entirely. You find yourself speechless.

His eyes, pretty and brown, search the camera unsurely.

“Are you frozen?” he asks again, shifting in his seat. “Hello?”

You finally break out of your trance, opening your mouth and shaking your head a little. “Hi,” you say quietly, watching Taehyung’s face brighten at the sound of your voice.

“Hey!” he says, grinning. “We had a bad connection for a minute, there.”

“Yeah.” You laugh lowly, nervously. “The internet here sucks, sometimes.”

“Yeah, same.” He moves around with his phone in his hand, placing the camera lower so that you get more of his chin and neck, the strong line of his jaw. In the background, you see plain white walls and kitchen cabinets, making you realize where he is, finally.

“Is this your new place?” you ask, sitting up in bed. “Let me see.”

“Yep!” He taps his screen twice, turning the camera around to the kitchen.

It’s a small, cozy room with dark granite counters and white walls, giving it a modern feel. Taehyung gets up from his seat and walks into the living room, giving you the tour. A small, dark couch sits against one wall with a ton of boxes surrounding it.

“I haven’t gotten much done,” he says, laughing nervously. “Moving by yourself is so hard. I had no idea.”

“You did everything alone?” you ask. “Your parents didn’t help?”

He doesn’t answer, moving past the living room to his bedroom, which is exactly like he explained earlier with a single mattress sitting against one wall, a night stand placed beside it and a desk on an adjacent wall.

“I was thinking of putting my bed in this corner,” he explains, “then it wouldn’t be up against that window and I’d have some space to do stuff in the middle.”

“Like what?” you tease. “Dance?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Taehyung says, laughing. He taps the screen again so the camera is back on his face, and your stomach clenches at how he prettily smiles into the camera. “You never know what can happen at casa de Taehyung.”

You roll your eyes, which only makes his smile grow brighter.

“But yeah, my parents helped me move the big stuff and then they left.” He frowns. “Now I have to unpack everything before I work on Monday.”

You shrug. “Well, you don’t have to. But I guess that would make the most sense, huh?”

“Yep.” He sighs. “Oh! I have a reason for this phone call that I keep forgetting to ask you.”

A little part of you feels relieved. It felt odd but good talking to Taehyung, but you were beginning to wonder why he’d chosen videoing instead of a text or phone call—either way, you were happy he was taking your mind off of other things for the time being.

You watch him walk back through his apartment to the kitchen, where he turns the camera on a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table.

“How do I keep these alive?” he asks. “Someone gave them to me as a housewarming gift—don’t ask why, I have no idea. I mean, seriously,” he turns the camera back on himself, quirking a thick eyebrow, “do I look like a flowers kind of guy?”

You giggle. “I mean, maybe?” you say. “Remember in high school when Mina asked you to prom? She went all out with it, too! She got someone to record it and she brought you flowers—”

“And I had to gently let her down because I’d just asked you out a week earlier?” he finishes for you, cringing at the thought. “God, that was terrible.”

“Hey, I told you to go with her!” you counter, laughing. “I didn’t care about prom whatsoever, but you made me go anyways.”

Taehyung shrugs, giving you a soft smile. “But you were so pretty in your dress, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

Your next laugh dies in your throat, but you manage a smile at Taehyung’s compliment. You two are quiet for a beat, eyes focused on each other in the camera lens as you relive the moment in your memories.

“The flowers need a vase,” you say, finally. “Do you have one?”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side. “If I’m not a flower guy, why the hell would I have a vase handy?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes again at his ever-present sarcasm. “Shut up.”

“Should I put them by the window?” he asks, getting up from his chair. “In the morning, they can—”

“No!” you say, a little louder than you mean to. Taehyung freezes on your screen. “I mean, direct sunlight will make them wilt faster. Don’t you know anything?”

“I know you’re being very unhelpful to my situation,” he says, tsking. “Do you have a vase?”

“Yeah?”

“Then bring it to me.”

You pause, feeling your heartbeat increase as you ponder the offer. Bring it to him? As in to his house? As in seeing each other for the first time in two years?

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stutter, eyebrows furrowing. “I guess I could. I mean, you said you needed help unpacking . . . before Monday . . . right?”

Taehyung nods, keeping his expression even. “I’ll make it worth your while—I can make us lunch or dinner or something. Whenever you’re free to help tomorrow.”

You’re still quiet, so he tacks on: “Don’t feel like you have to or anything!”

“No, no.” You shake your head. “Sunday is good.” Hongbin was going on a golfing trip with some coworkers and Yeonwoo would be passed out until the afternoon time. “I can come, and I’ll bring you a vase.”

You’re glad you agreed, because the way Taehyung’s face brightens—a wide smile splitting his face—makes you feel like you’d do anything to see it happen more often.

“Great,” he says. Then he sighs, and looks past the camera around at his apartment. “Well, I’m going to try to get some stuff done in the kitchen tonight so we have somewhere to eat tomorrow.” His eyes meet yours once more: twinkling, hopeful, a little mischievous, but that’s just Taehyung. “I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “See you then.”

His voice is a soft hum to your ears, “Goodnight, Y/N,” right before he disconnects the call.

The screen goes back to Facebook, and you stare at it for a little while, relishing in the excited rush flowing through your veins, at the familiarity of it all, at one thought turning over in your brain for the rest of the night: you were going to see Taehyung tomorrow.

You tell Taehyung you won’t be headed over to his place until after lunchtime, but your excited nerves have you awake at eight. You stare at the ceiling fan rotating in the center of your bedroom for a while, watching a single blade spin while your mind reels similarly until you feel dizzy and have to close your eyes again. It was just Taehyung, and you were just doing him a favor. So why did it feel like you were keeping a secret?

After watching a little TV in the comfort of your bed, you get up and take a shower, going through your normal routine at a leisurely pace to help waste some time. You grab a granola bar off your desk and eat it while you pick out an outfit. When you finally step out of your room and into the living room, you’re surprised to see Yeonwoo stretched out on the couch, a white sheet mask covering her face as she watches TV.

“Hangover?” you comment, snickering. “You’re up early.”

“So are you,” she snaps back, but her usual biting remark is softened by the stiffness of her mouth as she tries not to move too much and disturb the mask. “Where you going?”

You decide to tell the truth, seeing if it helps ease the building anxiety in your stomach. And to cover your tracks for later, whatever later was. “I’m helping an old friend move into their apartment.”

Yeonwoo sits up, eyeing your outfit—a pair of plain jeans, a crew neck sweater and sneakers. When she’s satisfied with your believable clothes, she relaxes, shrugging her shoulders. “Sounds like a shitty way to spend a Sunday, but okay. Have fun.”

You laugh with her, trying to sneak out of the house without any further questions. Just as you open the door, she hits you with another: “What’s with the vase?”

“Housewarming gift!” you quip, stepping outside. “Bye!”

You realize on the way over that you’re making a mistake.

You should have told Hongbin. You weren’t just going to help an old friend, you were going to help an old ex. A person who, foolishly, in high school, you thought you were going to spend a good portion—if not the rest—of your life with.

You look down at the housewarming gift in the passenger seat of your car: a bottle of white Riesling with a gold bow around it, and your stomach twists in nausea. As the GPS directs you to make a u-turn because you just missed the exit to Taehyung’s house, you find yourself pulling off onto the side of the road.

Hongbin answers on the fifth ring.

“Hey,” you say timidly, biting your lip for a second. “I just wanted to call you—I’m like, I don’t even know what I’m doing right now—”

A roar of laughter erupts in your ear, cutting you off. You hear Hongbin excusing himself and some rustling before he finally addresses you. “Y/N, hey,” he says, rushed. “What’s up? I told you I was busy today with work.”

It’s a response so fucking typical of him you can’t even give him the satisfaction of getting mad. Here you are, trying to give him some insight on your worries and he’s too busy chasing a promotion to care.

“Seriously? You’re not at work, Hongbin,” you remind him sourly. “You’re on a golfing trip kissing ass.”

“And if we ever expect to move in together, I’m going to have to get back to kissing said ass, Y/N,” he snaps back just as easily. “I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Forget it. Bye.”

You hit end on the call and throw your phone down in the seat next to you, listening to the harsh sound of it smacking against glass. You wince, and although you don’t want to, you glance down to make sure you haven’t broken the two gifts beside you.

Taehyung. Your annoyance at Hongbin drains and nervousness replaces it—but it’s a feeling you’d rather have a thousand times over than one of neglect. So you put the car back into drive, make the designated u-turn the GPS is telling you to, and get back on the road to Taehyung’s house.

Which building/room?

Taehyung is typing . . .

1100/425!

You grab the wine in one hand and the vase in the other, making the short walk from the parking lot to the building lobby. You take a deep breath as you step into the elevator, letting it fill your chest, lungs, stomach, and letting it out through your nose only when the shaft lurches to a halt. A ding sounds as the elevator stops on the fourth floor, and all too quickly you are standing in front of room 425.

With your heartbeat pounding against your rib cage, you rap your knuckles softly on the surface. You hear heavy footsteps and clicks of the lock, and then Taehyung is swinging the door open, his face full of delight to see you standing on the other side.

He’s traded the beanie and sweater from yesterday for freshly washed hair that sits in voluminous, messy pieces on his forehead, a grey zip up hoodie, and black sweats. He looks so reminiscent of times when you two were in high school hanging out at his house that you feel relieved—if anything, he was still the Taehyung that loved to be in baggy, comfortable clothes.

“You made it!” he says, grinning. “And you brought the vase!”

He steps back and gestures for you to come inside, which you do, cautiously. You glance at the floor, following his bare feet into the kitchen, watching as they come to a stop in front of the oven.

You set the vase down on the table, still gripping the wine awkwardly in your left hand. “I um—brought this, for you,” you say, holding the bottle out towards him. “Hope you still like sweet white.”

Taehyung smiles softly, taking the gift from you. “Of course I do. Maybe we can crack it open after dinner.”

You nod, and the space between you two falls into an uncomfortable silence. Taehyung tries to make it not as obvious that he’s taking you in—eyes trailing from your head to your toes and back again, taking note of all the changes—but you can feel his gaze on you even as you look away, bringing an embarrassing heat to your already warm face.

You clear your throat. “How much did you get done last night?”

Taehyung seems to remember why you are there, finally, pushing off his relaxed stance against the counters and walking into the living room.

“The kitchen is pretty finished, I think,” he says. “But there are so many boxes in the living room that need to be unpacked.”

Your eyes trail over the ones stacked on top of each other on the couch, blocking any and all possible ways of relaxing in front of the flat screen TV already perched on an entertainment stand.

You sigh. “Well, let’s start with those, then.”

You two fall back into your old rhythm quickly. You’re grateful for this, because the first thirty minutes are spent quietly unpacking, neither of you being sure what to say to the other until Taehyung finally starts talking about his library interview.

You catch back up on what each other have been up two since high school: you, working full time and just recently deciding to go back to school, and Taehyung, living with his parents while he took day classes and saved up money to move out. In two years time, both of you have grown up so much; but also not, by the way you still reminisce about the past, teasing each other about old embarrassments and times together.

Taehyung has matured. He has hardened in places—the line of his jaw and playful glint in his eyes both sharper, body filled out and lean underneath the thin t-shirt that you see after he sheds his hoodie, voice sultry and deep, an air of confidence that follows his movements that you aren’t used to seeing. You wonder what changed him, but you’re fine with whatever it was because this is a good look for him.

“We’re so stupid for moving out so early,” he says later, flopping back on the now-cleared couch. His face glows with a radiant warmth, his hairline a little sweaty from moving furniture around in the living room. You’d offered to help but you couldn’t lift much—and Taehyung had insisted he could do it by himself.

“Hey, Yeonwoo and I are doing just fine,” you counter, frowning. You take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, pulling your legs underneath you. “You should have gotten a roommate. It would make everything easier.”

“I don’t want to live with anyone, though,” he replies.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s hard.”

“So is paying rent by yourself,” you add, laughing. “I think you’re hard to get along with, and that’s why you don’t want a roommate.”

Taehyung raises a questioning eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Explain.”

“Well for starters,” you begin ticking each point off on your fingers, “everything has to be neat and tidy. You hate mess.”

“This is true. Go on.”

“And,” you add another finger, “You survive off of coffee and chicken wraps like a weirdo, so a roommate would starve going grocery shopping with you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but lets you have that one. “Mhm, and?”

“And, you smoke. Not everyone likes that.”

Taehyung smiles, knowing he has the one-up on you. “That, my dear, is where you’re wrong,” he says. “I quit.”

You sit up a little. “What? For real?”

“It’s too expensive,” he says. “I do something a little cheaper, now.”

“Cigarettes?” you say, unable to hide the disgust in your tone.

Taehyung reaches in the pocket of his hoodie thrown over the back of the couch. “Cigars,” he says, brandishing a rectangular box.

You furrow your brows. “But you used to smoke these before.”

“And now they’re weed-less,” he counters, giving you an impish grin. “Here, smell.”

He takes one out and hands it to you. It’s skinny—not the giant ones that mob bosses smoke in movies—and you bring it to your nose with caution. On the inhale, your senses are flooded with a sweet, smoky smell, something reminiscent of fruit and maybe, firewood.

You hand it back to him and he digs around in his pocket for a lighter. You reach for the box instead. “Summer blend?” you read.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

He lights it up, takes a long inhale. You watch the tip glow red, watch the way Taehyung’s mouth purses around the end before he blows out a continuous exhale of smoke. Even though you’re on the other end of the couch, the smell hits you immediately and you realize it’s one that has been floating in the air since you got there. Earlier, when Taehyung brushed past you to get another box you would smell it, and you thought it was just the scent of his deodorant or body wash. Somehow, knowing it comes from a cigar makes it more enticing, and you watch curiously as Taehyung takes another slow drag.

His eyes meet yours through the skinny smoke hovering in the air and he raises an eyebrow. “Want to try?”

You feel yourself reaching for it before you’ve entirely made up your mind. You smoked a cigarette, once. You hated it. But that wasn’t with Taehyung watching you intently from the end of the couch, so you find yourself more inclined to like cigars as you bring the plastic tip to your mouth.

You cough a little on the exhale, but otherwise it doesn’t feel like anything. You find yourself wishing for something a little stronger, and your eyes drift to the unopened bottle of wine on the table as you hand the cigar back to Taehyung. His eyebrows raise questioningly at you, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything.

You gesture to the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” You pause. “Or late lunch, rather?”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck lazily. “Umm—”

“You didn’t buy anything, did you?” you guess with a sigh. “So typical of a chicken-wrap-and-coffee guy.”

“What? No.” He laughs. “I said I was going to cook for you but it’s going to take a second. Is that okay?”

“Oh.” You perk back up. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great.” He gives you a smirk. “But you’re right about the chicken wrap thing—I'm also a dying-vase-of-flowers guy,” he adds jokingly, getting up from the couch and walking towards the dining room table. He puts his cigar out in a little ash tray on the table, touching the wilted bouquet before spinning on his heel to look at you. “Can we salvage these?”

“I suppose I can work my magic,” you say playfully. “You start cooking.”

“Deal.”

While Taehyung pulls pots, pans, and ingredients from the cabinets, you work on cutting the stems on the flowers shorter. As you run them under cold water in the sink, Taehyung looks on from your side.

“Girls must be born with the ability to take care of things,” he hums appreciatively.

You smile a little and try not to let him see it as you pull dead leaves and wilted petals off before finally, sticking all the stems in the clear, glass vase you brought from your apartment.

“Pretty?” you ask.

Taehyung turns around from where he’s chopping vegetables at the counter. “Perfect,” he agrees. “You’ve earned a glass of wine.”

“You say that like I didn’t buy it,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, it’s my housewarming gift,” he says. “But I’m willing to share.”

You grab a glass from the cabinet Taehyung points to, thanking every instinct under the sun that you thought to get a bottle that had a screw-on top. Without looking for it, you know Taehyung wouldn’t have a wine opener.

“What are you making?” you ask.

“Stir fry,” he says. “I figured it would be quick and easy. That okay?”

You sip quietly and stand beside Taehyung as he chops, looking at the graceful way in which he handles food. His hands, big and tan, work with a knife flawlessly. You can’t help but wonder where he learned the skill—in high school he hadn’t known how to cook eggs properly.

He gets you to pour some wine in a separate glass for him that he sips on occasionally. You’re glad you thought about buying it—somehow having a drink in your hands eases the awkward staleness in the room that seems to creep back in during silences. He asks you a few more questions while he prepares—what was the best place to eat in town, what was the nightlife like, what was there to do for fun—and you rattle off what you little you know.

Lastly, he pulls out a small package of white mushrooms and begins slicing them. When he sees the uneasy expression on your face at the addition of a certain hearty vegetable, he shakes his head.

“I’m cooking them in a separate pan, love,” Taehyung murmurs quietly, brow furrowed in concentration. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, casually tacking on the old pet name onto the end, but you’re glad he doesn’t, because the shock on your face would tell everything.

He hasn’t forgotten anything about you or your preferences. The thought pulls at invisible strings on your insides, but it’s not the same anxiousness as earlier. It’s more of a warmth, an appreciation, a heartfelt emotion that has been silently gnawing at the back of all your interactions since you stepped foot in his apartment. You missed this.

You down what’s left of the wine in the bottom of your glass, hoping the alcohol will take that tight feeling in your throat with it as it travels to your stomach.

“Shit, I forgot to cut up the broccoli!” Taehyung says suddenly. “Y/N can you do that while I get these mushrooms frying? They’re going to take longer.”

You nod, going to the refrigerator. Taehyung puts a pan on the stove and turns on the burner, digging around for a spatula to cook with as you grab the knife and get to work. Somehow, you forget everything you’ve ever learned about cooking or cutting, and a few seconds into slicing the broccoli stem, the tip of the paring knife goes right through the tip of your index finger.

“Ow, fuck!” you say, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your injured finger with your other hand. It oozes blood and you step back from the cutting board to save the food.

Taehyung is at your side immediately. “You okay?” He cuts off the stove burner and rushes out of the kitchen. “Run it under some water, I’ll get the first aid kit!”

It isn’t bad, but it’s going to need a band-aid if you expect to carry on the night without a huge mess. You watch the dark red liquid start to run down your finger so you walk out of the kitchen to avoid getting blood in that sink and opt for the bathroom connected to Taehyung’s bedroom instead.

“I know the first aid kit is around here somewhere,” he murmurs as you walk through, his back to you as he bends over a few boxes stacked in the corner of his room.

You turn the sink on and rinse off the blood pooling at the end, blotting it dry with a square of toilet paper. Taehyung walks into the bathroom with the first aid kit just as you are closing the lid on the toilet, sitting on the seat as you apply light pressure to the cut.

“Is it bad?” he asks, crouching down in front of you. He pulls some ointment out of the kit and flips your hand over, cradling it with his much bigger one as he inspects the damage.

“It’s fine, I think,” you say, trying hard not to show the way tingles are shooting up your arm as Taehyung spreads a small amount of ointment on your finger, hands dancing and caressing your skin with care as he tends to it. “Sorry that I’m so awful at using a knife.”

He looks up at you, giving you a pretty, genuine smile. “It’s okay, I should have remembered—last time we tried to cook together it ended in a disaster, too.”

There’s a beat of silence—partly because you are racking your brain trying to remember the specific time Taehyung is referring to, and partly because suddenly, his face is close to yours for the first time of the entire night and you can see everything that you missed about Taehyung: the chocolate irises that stare happily back at you, the freckle that dots the tip of his nose that you used to kiss over and over, the softness of his pink lips and the way they pull back over a set of straight, beautiful teeth and send a warm smile your way.

And then his head is bent again, the moment gone as quickly as it came as he focuses back on the task at hand. He grabs a thin band-aid from the kit and works on unwrapping it, letting go of your fingers for the time being.

“Thanks for this,” you say, finally. “And thanks for inviting me over, I’m really—” you pause, licking your dry lips and trying to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in your throat, “I’m glad I got to see you.”

Taehyung doesn’t look up immediately at the confession—instead, he lets it linger quietly in the air of his cramped bathroom as he peels the paper strips off the sides of the bandaid. He wraps it around your finger gingerly, dropping the trash in the waste basket that sits beside the toilet. Still crouched in front of you, Taehyung pulls your hand up, fingertips aligning with his as if measuring your hand sizes before he intertwines them between yours. He gives your hand a squeeze like this, and you find it hard to look away as your eyes meet.

“Me too, Y/N,” he says softly. “I missed you.”

The quietness of Taehyung’s apartment lays easily on the conversation, covering the confession like a warm blanket. Your face is hot, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the wine or the intensity in which Taehyung is staring at you, still crouched in between your legs and holding your hand with his own.

When his eyes lower from yours finally, you realize you had been holding your breath the whole time, and you let it out quietly through your nose. Taehyung seems to deflate in front of you as well—deciding against whatever was rolling in his mind and making his eyebrows furrowed, as he loosens his grip on your hand and moves to straighten up.

But you don’t want him to move yet. You want to stay in this atmosphere, in this pulse-racing closeness with Taehyung because it’s a feeling that hasn’t coursed through your veins in a long, long time. You tug him back into place and he stutters at the movement, opening his mouth to say something but you don’t let him.

You just want to touch him, to feel him underneath the weight of your fingertips, to run your hand across the tan, smooth skin of his cheek. The feeling is so strong you can’t decide a solid reason why you shouldn’t. So you untangle your hand from his and rake it through the long, blonde strands of his hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck where you know he likes it. Taehyung’s eyes close from pleasure, familiarness—and when he opens them, you know he’s lost the battle with himself from the fire lit behind his brown irises. You don’t mind, because you lose the same battle when you decide to lean in, using your hand resting on the back of Taehyung’s neck to guide his lips to yours.

The kiss is timid at first, a testing of the waters with closed mouths pressed against each other because neither of you are sure what is happening, or if it should be happening. But when Taehyung brings his hands up to cup the sides of your face, breaking away for just a second to reposition so that his lips are slanted across yours in a harder, more urgent kiss—all sensibility you had leaves the room.

Taehyung pulls you up from your sitting position as he straightens his legs from crouching, using the opportunity to bring you closer and wrap his arms around your waist while his lips graze feverishly across your own. It’s been over two years without pressing your lips against his, but the moment they touch, everything comes back. Taehyung kisses you to leave you breathless, his tongue easily slipping in after a few moments, lacing with your own in a way that is familiar but exciting and new at the same time.

You’re reminded of the mushrooms suddenly, and that Taehyung hasn’t forgotten anything about you like this, either, despite some time apart: the way you loved it when he cradled your face with one hand while his other wrapped around your waist, cocooning you in his warmth and pressing you against his lean body; kissing you slow, but hot and needy to where your body can’t help but feel like melted ice cream in his hands; the way you loved it when he pulled back and looked at you, gauging your reaction to it all, even when he knew exactly what he was doing to you before diving back in with eagerness that made your heart skip.

When you break away to get some air, Taehyung only moves his attention to the skin of your neck, peppering kisses down your jawline until he reaches your pulse point, suckling on the skin lightly there. You close your eyes, tilting your head back to encourage him further, a breathy sigh releasing from between your lips at the warmth of his mouth.

Somewhere along the sucking and nipping and feverish, open-mouth kisses on your skin, Taehyung begins walking you back through the bathroom door frame and into his bedroom. You stumble with him towards the bed, unable to take your hands off of each other for fear that the moment will be ruined and unable to be recaptured with quite the same amount of passion. Neither of you speak, either, for the same reasons, you suppose--but you couldn’t say anything if you wanted; Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance with the way his mouth dances across yours.

Taehyung lightly pushes your shoulders once you’re at the edge of his mattress that sits on the floor—sans bed frame—and you lower yourself down as he follows you, covering your body with all of his. He positions himself perfectly between your legs so that his hard cock sits right against your center, placing pressure on your most sensitive bits, and Taehyung milks a slight moan from your mouth when he ruts against you.

Your clasp the sides of his face, bringing his lips back to yours with fervor unmatched to any time you’d been kissed in the past two years. While Taehyung licks inside of your mouth, your hands roam underneath his thin, white T-shirt, fingernails dragging along the skin of his back in a light scratch that has him groaning in the back of his throat. He leaves your mouth again to nip along your collarbones, bringing one of his hands up to pull down the collar of your sweater and give himself more access.

It’s hot in his room, and not because the A/C isn’t working—in between closing your eyes, you see the vent on the ceiling right above your heads—but your skin is warm all over your body, a feeling that only comes with the circumstance of Taehyung between your legs. You roll your hips upward to meet his, making his mouth stutter in the marks of distinction it was making along your chest. He sits up, kneeling between your legs and looking at you with curious eyes. Taehyung’s lips are swollen from all the kissing and his hair is mussed from your fingertips running through it, but in this moment, you’ve never been more attracted to him.

You tug at the bottom of his shirt and Taehyung snatches it over his head with ease, smirking when your eyes roam over the tan, lean planes of his chest and stomach. His shoulders have widened and broadened, but he’s still managed to keep a slender, boyish figure over the years; you want to run your hands over every crevice of his body and re-remember all the lines so that when this moment between you two is done, you can revisit the memory over and over and over.

When Taehyung leans back over you to connect your lips again, you roll over his body before he can, pushing him flat on his back and swinging your leg over so that you’re straddling his waist. Though Taehyung looks surprised at first at the sudden dominance, his eyebrows slowly return to their normal position on his forehead as you lean down to kiss him once more.

He melts underneath the brush of your mouth, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs caging him on either side of his body. While you trace the underside of his jaw with your tongue, he breathes out, “God, I missed you,” while his hands roam upward, grabbing what he can of your ass through the jeans you have on. The movement makes you jump in surprise and Taehyung laughs a little at the way you pull back from him to look at the playfulness in his eyes before he leans up and kisses you on the mouth chastely.

With his hands spread across your backside, Taehyung pulls your hips towards him, causing you to grind against his hard cock that sits beneath the crotch of his grey sweats. You close your eyes as Taehyung’s tongue sneaks out to tease against yours, coaxing you with the warmth of his mouth and his lap to continue your ministrations.

“Tae,” you breathe out, bowing your head as you continue to grind on him.

Your panties are slick with your wetness, sticking to you uncomfortably underneath your jeans but you’re too lost in the haziness of the moment to do anything about it. You realize how pathetic you might sound, moaning because of the friction between so many clothes, but when you open your eyes and look at Taehyung, staring half-lidded back at you and breathing heavily—you couldn’t care less. His gaze sends a knot coiling in your stomach, tightening with every roll of your hips.

When you moan his name again shamelessly, Taehyung sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, closing his eyes as if fighting with himself for what he wants to say—but then he loses when the words escape his plump lips.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs. “Why don’t you take these off?” He pats his hands where they rest against your butt, squeezing once again through the material.

The thought flashes in your head of what underwear you wore today—certainly not a fuck me pair—and try to think of how Taehyung would react to seeing your simple, baby blue cotton panties.

“Hm?” he asks, letting his hand come down on your ass in a harder smack this time—still encouraging the roll of your hips against his cock. “Take them off, I want to touch you.” He pauses, fighting the groan building in the back of his throat. “Wanna—make you feel good, Y/N.”

Hongbin is never this forward with you—he wasn’t much of an ass guy in the first place, so he would never do this—and since it had been a while since you two shared a passionate moment because of his work schedule, you couldn’t remember what it was like with Taehyung overpowering those memories with his sensual, fiery touches and narrations.

You want to get completely lost in the moment, but you can’t. Hongbin—he floods back into your brain, unwarranted and at the utmost wrong time he possibly could. It’s all happening so fast—but not fast enough. Your mind takes over instead of your body, your wants, and you open your eyes from their closed state, taking in the sight before you:

Taehyung, underneath you. Shirtless. Small, pink marks covering his neck and chest from your mouth. From your mistakes. From your infidelity. You snatch your hands back from where they rest on his stomach, guilt flooding your system as the fog in your brain thins. Taehyung’s eyes open to anxiously search yours, and he knows immediately what has happened in the last few, precious seconds.

“Taehyung—” you gasp, moving off him and scooting away, off the mattress and toward the wall of his bedroom. When the cold, hard material presses against your back, you realize how far your shirt was pushed up—how close you were to taking it off with your pants following shortly after, and it only makes you feel worse.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says, rushing to crawl after you on his hands and knees. He cradles your cheeks between his hands, brushing away trails of tears you didn’t even know you were crying. “Y/N, I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so fucking sorry. I—” he pauses, running a hand through his air, looking past you with far off eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, god. Fuck!”

You run a shaky hand through your hair, blinking away tears and moving your head side to side in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, pushing his hands away. “I have to go—I have to leave, I’m—” you push up from the floor, walking on shaky legs towards Taehyung’s bedroom door.

He grabs his shirt and is after you in a flash, reaching out to capture your wrist in his before you can make it far. “Y/N, wait a second, we should talk about this.”

You pull out of his loose grip and he lets you, watching you with worried eyes as you put on your shoes and jacket by the door.

“Y/N, please,” he says, and you can hear the hopelessness in his voice. It makes you pause and look up at him, but then your eyes zero-in on the marks on his chest, at the shirt in his hand, and your eyesight blurs with tears again.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Taehyung,” you say. “I’m sorry, this was—this was a mistake.”

Taehyung flinches at the sound of the word, but he nods slowly in understanding. “I’m sor—”

You manage a soft me too, cutting him off before he can say it and then you are rushing out, pulling Taehyung’s front door shut behind you. Just before it closes you catch a glimpse of his kitchen, at the pans on the stove sitting with the cold, forgotten remainders of a dinner that never should have happened in the first place.

— One week later —

“You all right?” Yeonwoo asks as she sits across from you at the kitchen table, setting a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of your tightly clasped hands. This is about the millionth time she’s asked since you got back from Taehyung’s last Sunday—it’s annoying, but at least you’re getting to practice your lying by having to convince her over and over.

“I’ll be great as soon as I drink this,” you say, giving her a smile right before the cup touches your lips. You welcome the burning feeling of the coffee, coating the lies and guilt that keep building up in your throat whenever she asks you.

Yeonwoo hums in agreement, naively, and takes a sip from her own mug.

Of course, you couldn’t tell her what had happened—you couldn’t even process the thoughts yourself, much less explain to someone else what made you cross such a terribly huge line in your seemingly stable relationship. You know you’d wished for it in the moment, but now you want the unrelenting memories of Taehyung to stop flashing through your mind at any given moment and give your poor, guilty heart a fucking break.

“Want to go shopping today?” Yeonwoo asks, not looking up from scrolling on her phone. “I need a new pair of boots.”

You take another sip of your coffee in contemplation, glancing at your own phone sitting a few inches away on the table. Taehyung hadn’t contacted you once since then, and it was eating at your nerves a little bit—shouldn’t he have something to say about it?

“We can go,” you say, finally. “But I need to make a phone call, first.”

Yeonwoo nods and doesn’t look up as you leave the room. You walk in your bedroom, phone in hand and shut the door behind you. For good measure, you lock it, just in case Yeonwoo decides to burst in while you sit Indian style in the middle of your floor and try to figure your conflicted emotions out.

You tap the Facebook app on your home screen and type ‘T’ into the search bar—the first person that pops up is Kim Taehyung from your incessant checking of his timeline within the last week. All he’d posted was a few normal pics of himself sightseeing around town and going to work; it was all boring, mundane things that didn’t help the insatiable craving to reach out to him, but at least he looked cute in his new work button-ups.

You pull up your chat, staring at the last message between you two:

Which building/room?

1100/425!

You knew where his house was, you could just have this conversation to him in person—the thought has you shaking your head before you even finish it. If you couldn’t control yourself last time, how the hell would it be any different during a second round of being alone together?

But, deep down, did you really want it to be any different? The thought had been scaring you for a week straight.

You drag both of your hands down your face in anxiety, pressing your knuckles against your eyes until you see black and static stars. You cross and uncross your legs, pick your phone up and put it down a few times before you finally click in the space to type and let your thoughts formulate freely:

Taehyung, I’m sorry that I left last Sunday and we didn’t really get to talk about what happened. But I’ve had some time to think. Honestly, I think the only thing we can do is put it behind us and move on. I’m sorry that it happened and it shouldn’t happen again. But meeting up made me realize how much I’ve missed you, and I think I kind of need you around as my friend. I’m really sorry, and I hope you still want to talk to me after this. I understand if you don’t, though.

You press send and throw your phone away from you, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face in the space between your legs and chest. You breathe out shallowly, thinking over in your head what you just texted and hoping it didn’t make you sound like a pitiful, stupid, selfish idiot.

You knew it was wrong of you to ask Taehyung to come back in your life after what happened between the two of you. Hell, you know it was wrong to bring him back into your life after two years of radio silence between the two of you. What happened was more than just a moment—it was a melding of hidden feelings, of unfulfilled desires and the unrelenting urge to be with someone who knew your body better than you did.

You loved Hongbin. But Taehyung set a fire within your ribcage that billowed outwards and swallowed everything you thought you wanted in your relationship with your current boyfriend; Taehyung, in just a few short hours, had made you forget all of it, made you cross lines you swore you never would because you knew what it felt like to be cheated on. But something about it had felt so right in the moment—

No. If you were going to do this, you had to do it right. You had to be Taehyung’s friend. You had to bury the moment you two shared along with all your dirty desires and do what was right.

But then again, you never were the best at making decisions. The thought passes through your mind as you hear the distinct, vibrating hum of your phone across the floor a few feet away from you, and you snatch it up with sweating palms, a racing heart, and an unrelenting sense of hope blossoming in your chest.

Before the message even pops up, you know, without a single fucking doubt in your mind, that this moment is going to change everything.

Taehyung is typing...

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #bts angst #honeyedhoseok #the v2 series #don't you need me?#v2 flashback

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stanbangttan · 6 years ago

Text

BTS REACTION “You touching and/or flirting with them”

A/N:Hi, Stanbangttan here. Yes I am in fact alive. I have been dealing with few personal issues and now I hope I will be back for good. I had this reaction request for a long time from @olivia-cosmosine But better late than never. Right? I am sorry you waited this long, but as a thank you for being patent, i made it EXTRA LONG as an imagine/oneshot kinda deal. Hope you like it! Keep reading folks.

Genre: fluff / angst / a little smut you name it

Warnings: mention of some kinks, almost pg 13

NAMJOON/RM

It was late for going out now. You are tired. You took of your make up, or what's left of it after this hell of the day at work. Stress, your boss yelling, at you and your co-workers, didn’t leave you in the best mood for the rest of your day. You didn't wanna go home. You didn't wanna go to your work. Could you just be locked inside of an library with endless rows of books? Even though you didn't want it, you went home, took a shower and was ready to finish the manga you love so much. You sat in your bed, got comfy and reached for the book. You started reading. 'I know this. I read this. Oh my god. I finished all ten of them.' - It was time to visit Clara. Clara was an older lady that held a cute little bookstore/ library. Her husband Rick, made every shelf in that bookstore for her and made her dream come true. She wanted a safe and comfy space for everyone to read and only beverage she will give you will be tea. The library was on the other part of the town. Just a few people you knew visited it or knew about the place. That gave you more peace even tho it shouldn't. It had all from books, textbooks to mangas and comics. Clara wasn't gonna discriminate any book there is, whatever form did it came in. Bean bags with coffee tables or regular chairs with regular tables for studying. Lo -fi music in the background. It was the best place on earth, why would you share it with someone? You wanted it all for yourself. You found out for this place by accident, when you were in high school and visiting a math tutor in this part of the town. Jimin was quite a good tutor but he was also handsome, so you were terrible at math all together even after his tutoring. Because how are you gonna focus on algebra when that man is next to you? So you self taught yourself, all over again at Clara's bookstore, and Clara gave you tea to keep your caffeine intake high so you can actually focus. Clara was younger, Rick wasn't in a wheelchair then, and everything seemed harmless and fun, with no responsibilities. After a while you realized you payed Jimin money just to see him every week, and not because you actually learn something from him. So you came clean. Asked him out. He said he has a girlfriend. Oh, all of them always do. That he is flattered. Oh, all of them always are. But never, ever someone said 'yes'. Or 'I wanna go out with you, Y/N.' You stopped getting tutored, you stopped going to Clara's. But you missed it. So you started to go to Clara's once again. And it became your little secret and guilty pleasure.

You sat in the bus 854, that had a stop near Clara's bookstore and about half a hour later you hopped off. Clara's face lighted up when she saw you tonight. "I thought you're gonna miss your tradition, Y/N." "Let me tell you, I was gonna do it. But I ran out of chapters." - Clara just laughed. "How is Rick?" "He's good. Recovering. They say he's gonna be walking again in a month. Even though he keeps getting up without doctor knowing." "He just can't keep his butt at one place." "You know it. Are you reading here or not? " "We'll see. Are my chapters at the same place?" - you said as you got far into the rows of shelves and books on them. "M-hm. Rain started." - Clara somewhat shouted. It is pouring out there. Great. You turned around to see Clara's face - "Then I will, until it stops." - Clara laughed mischievously, disappearing in the back room , confused you kept walking backwards until I hit something solid and firm. Automatically your lips mouth - "I am sorry." "It's okay." - male voice responded. Not stopping, you took a left, you knew the shelf location by heart, found your aisle, between ton of shelves. As you went to grab next chapter of a the manga you want to read, as a hand found yours on the same book. "I saw it first." - same male voice said. So what, it's his hand on yours. - "I took it first." His hand quickly vanished. You turned around, manga in your hand, then your eyes found his. His warm but deep brown ones. You broke the contact. Looking at him under your lashes. His lips are so full. You bet they're soft too. His voice awakens your daydream "Will you read it here?" - Oh dios mio, he has dimples. With every word those two appeared. "Uhm," - you turn to see the rain showering the streets - "Probably." - you said nodding. "I can wait for you to finish.. It." "Y-yeah. Deal." - You walked to the bean bags. Clara brought two, yes, two cups of tea, and winked at you. "Y/N, I need to go to the grocery store for a minute, can you keep the bookstore running?" "Now? Out on the spurting rain, really Clara?" She made the shush face and continued, - "Yes. Namjoon help her out, please." "Of course, Mrs. Jenkins." - he politely responded. Clara basically evaporated from the bookstore. "You know she will take long on purpose. She is acting, no, she's playing matchmaker now. This is not my first rodeo with her." "I know. Neither is mine. But she has the best interest, I swear. " "I know" - you said apologetically.

"I live down the street. I am Namjoon." - he said putting his hand in yours. "I know." - you shook it for maybe way too long as your eyes smiled at each other. Someone would say your gazes already made love to each other, because the chemistry as off the charts. His puzzled face was enough. "She said it. I am Y/N." "I know" - he smiled. Y ou took the comfy bean bag you always lay in, blanket over you and got back to your manga. He got up and looked for another manga or book to read. Whenever you lifted your gaze from the book, his gaze was on you, and he smiled. You smile back. Maybe Clara is not just playing.

JIN

"Maria, not another blind date. Nope, just NO." You shouted over the phone. Your roommate was getting pissy because she couldn't hear what Khloe Kardashian said in the new episode, but you didn't give a flying fuck. Whenever Maria got a love or better said dick interest you were the one she dragged with her, her plus one for all of mediocre best friends Maria's date had. One never better that the other. Issues and problems you didn't want in your life. But as a good friend you were you were pretending for her. But this was outrageous. "Can't you keep a man, Maria. Please keep fucking Jungkook, so I can actually have a weekend for myself, to find a date I actually want to go to." You screamed. I bet your neighbors have first hand reality show experience with what comes or is heard out of this apartment. Kira is now muting the Kardashians and pays attention to you and Maria's conversation. "Who is Jungkook?" "Shut it Kira,” - you continued the phone torture - ”I can't go on another blind date." "Tell Maria, I'll go." Kira shouted.

"No, not her Y/N. Please. Not for this one. This one is the real deal. I swear to you. He is from a good family. They both are. Both Hoseok and Jin." - Maria pleaded me. "You are indebted by me, by soooooooo much, you're not even aware how much. " "Thank you, thank you." "When are we going? And how?" "Hoseok said to catch campus bus at seven." "Dresscode?" "Girly? I don't know where we’re going. I am sorry.” "Ugh, okay. " “I can ask him though." “Yea, you do that.” - you hang up on her. Why is this your life?

-----

Instantly as you and Maria got into the bus you spotted him. This man was unbelievingly handsome. Not just handsome, he was beautiful. Pouty lips, piercing eyes, and a skin clear as first snow. I wish she set me up with a guy like him - you thought. You hate blind dates, and blind double dates are even more uncomfortable. As bus was leaving the bus stop, you looked for an empty spot, but Maria was already doing that for you. Going into pretty boy's direction. She waved the guy that sat in front of him, I assume Hoseok and he gestured her to sit next to him. There was an empty spot next to the hottie. But who's your date? Is he already at the venue? Is he at the bus? As you stood over them, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with the pretty boy, and trying not to interrupt your friend and her date, her date finally said "Oh, hi, Jin saved you spot, too." I looked at the hottie, as the guy gestured behind him. Jin. I like it. "Hi, Jin" you said as you hugged him. Was that too much? Maybe he is not the hugging type. "Hi.." said Jin awkwardly. You looked straight ahead, closing your eyes in regret, thinking how you fucked everything up, and the blind date didn't even start. This is the first one you actually liked and you fuck up. The gist of your life in 2 minutes. Then you looked at Jin, looking at you, and he smiled. Well, maybe you didn't fuck everything up just yet.

YOONGI / SUGA

Working at a Music Entertainment company as a secretary was pretty much boring, at first thought. But when you gave it time, it became quite interesting. You got to meet a lot of celebrities. And to find out some of those celebs are actually trash. To surprise pleasantly that some of them are so kind. That there are divas and an actual human with a reasoning. It was hard, but once in a while it was pleasant to work with them too. Company birthday was around the corner, and company dinner was obligatory. Well that was in the email you got. I mean dinner & drink with colleagues can't be lethal, right? You're not all from the same division, so that means you'll meet more people. As anxious that made you, it made you think about how good that is for your carrier. Just think how many people you'll meet, and how many more opportunities it will open - you said to yourself in the mirror at the restaurant. You splashed some droplets of water on your face, while picking up courage to go inside and find a table where everyone is. Girls exiting the bathroom in this exact moment laughed at you. Whatever. Y/N , be a good girl. Don't drink much. Be normal, just for tonight don't be yourself. Don't say stupid things. Stop with the puns Jin learned you. Okay? Okay. You got out there. Just few of employees arrived, which is good. Let's start small. Time passed, few small talks nothing big. Slowly but surely seats filled up. One next to you empty for over an hour. It felt like everyone knew everyone. You felt like a black sheep in a flock. Which left you with more time to drink. So you actually did. Suddenly a guy sat on that empty spot. And he puts his empty glass in front of you. Gesturing at the Soju in your hand. You stared at him in confusion. You don't know this guy. He read your mind. "Hi, I am Yoongi. Can I have the drink now we passed the names and all shitty conversation?" "Y-yes.." You poured him a drink. Then another one. And another one. When you felt like you were drunk enough for this, you asked him "Sooo, cutie pie, what division are you?" - great, we started with the awkward flirting. He kept quiet. You thought he didn’t hear you so you asked again. "C'mon, how long do you work for BH?" "I guess we didn't skip all the shitty conversations and after all. Look, I don't work in the departments." he answered, and you laughed. "Pfft, how is that possible?" - Who do he think he is? "I'm a producer. CEO.I work at the studio." Then it dawned on you.. "Ohh, so you like play an instrument? Are you my boss or something? " - you smiled. "InstrumentS actually. Piano is one of them, for example. Maybe I am. " he emphasized the "s", bragging. "I know preppy ones like you." - you blurted out. This is ironic flirting for you. He needs to keep up. He's kinda slow. And you're kinda drunk. Who are you kidding, you're too drunk. "What is that supposed to mean?" It means you are preppy full of yourself guy who thinks he's better than anyone else, but you actually fake it. You didn't say that. He's your boss. Well maybe. But you're not gonna risk it. He pays well. Well maybe. "Oh you can actually hear me now? I meant, your fingers must do wonders then." You touched his fingers, bumping at one of his silver rings, playing with it and laughed at your own dirty joke. Damn you Jin, if I remember this in the morning, I'll kill you. He was rather surprised of the sudden touch, making the face at your dirty pun, but didn't want to show that he got it or that he liked it for a matter a fact. Both of it. He just responded "I can show you if you want.." This night will be fun.

J-HOPE/ HOSEOK

You were new here. New town. New people. New group of friends. Well some of them were just friends in your eyes. Not Hoseok though. He’s so dreamy, the smile he gives to everyone, but is able to scold them as well. You needed that balance in life. You are a friendly person, talkative as much as it gets. But you never said to anyone about your crush on Hoseok. He was your little secret. Other people paired you two together for activities accidentally which made your smile grow bigger and somehow, you fell under his spell. Not that he knew, or noticed. He gave you as much attention as he gave anyone else. Or that's what you thought. It was game night and it was your turn to choose the place you all will go. After thinking long, the best option was rolling skate rink. You knew the place well, you skate well or you can pretend you don't, you dance well and you knew Hoseok would enjoy it. You made a choice thinking of him, that was not surprise to you. And as a bonus, they had amazing milkshakes! Perfect. You skated with friends, Hoseok showed off his moves even on skates. Jumping around, speeding like a lunatic, moonwalk all the way to you and the girls, pushed you about 10 meters away from the group, and almost knocked you over doing so. He caught you mid fall, like in the movies you watched, you took your hand and moved to his cheek, entranced. It'll be just like in the old movies - you somewhat prayed. He made a serious face, "wha-?" "um--" you fake cough, standing up, and looking down, trying to calm your beating heart, and shaky knees. Too bad your knees are a pair of freaking betrayers. You fell once again, your butt on the floor. He helped you stand up. You wanted to run away. To lock yourself in safety of your room for a month till this sickening, gushing feeling stops. Or just forever so you don't embarrass yourself ever again. His face was blood red, just like when he drank, the song changed and he took the chance to run away to the other side of the rink. Flustered? Or Ashamed? And you thought you wanted to run. Why did he run away? Why did you even think your life could be a movie? Whole squad was at the tables, calling your name, while you stood on the center of the rink. "We saved you a spot." - someone said. You don't even know who, you're so much out of yourself. Across from you was a empty spot too. You looked at it, for hour what it felt. But it barely passed minutes. Until someone sat, and looked at your eyes. Same voice spoke again - "Maybe we should give them little space guys.." Another chimed in "Yeah.. " All of your friends left the table, you felt the same feeling, voice inside telling you -RUN- but Hoseok didn't run so you didn't too. "So.." - he said "So.."- you repeated "I.." - you both chimed at the same time.

"You can go first" - again "Are we gonna act as twins or?" - you joked nervously "That'll be incest then.. " - Hoseok said under his breath

"What ?" - you asked just to be cut again. "I like you, Y/N" - his face flushed again, his voice stuttering and head hung low You smiled, " I do to.. " " I mean don't understand me wrong I do not like me too.. What I wanted to say.. Ugh, I hate this.. I mean I don't hate you. I... I just .. I like you too." "We're both a stuttering mess.." - Hoseok said, holding your hand.

JIMIN

Jimin was popular for his “friendliness” with girls. Whole campus knew who he was, what he was doing with his free time, and was pretty known campus hoe. Men threw him high-fives and "WhoopWhoop-ed" him when they saw him, like having a STD was something to be proud of. Boys will be boys, and girls wouldn't be girls if they didn't fall on that façade he puts every morning. How did you know that? Well, you have been childhood friend, not that close one, with the said hoe. Driving him/ being driven to campus by him, or carpooling with some friends from same neighborhood and him being there was one way. But like it wasn't more than enough that you had to share the air with him, he decided to tease hell out of you. You both sat in the back, you were looking through the window and the scenery you have seen, well million times, and still that was better than dealing and talking to him. You didn't hated him, you hated his behavior, which his older brother somehow passed on to him. That fucker is a story for itself. Suddenly, Minie and Jess, riding in the front got into “female only” discussion on a topic why is the diva cup better than a tampon or the pad, for your hygiene and economically, cutting Jimin off completely having him jobless, and in a mood for teasing you. He poked your arm, smiling so hard that his eyes closed, HE ENJOYED THIS. *poke* *poke* *poke* over and over again. You ignored. Well you tried. You snapped. That's an understatement.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?"

Minie flinched and Jess, who was driving honked the car accidentally because of the sudden shout. He put the innocent face on “Why are you screaming at me, I didn’t do anything to you,” sly smile creeping in, “Gezz woman, is that time of the month again?"

"They’re bickering again.. ” Minie sighed and Jess dismissed you two, continuing their conversation, this was daily routine now.

“If by that time of the month again you mean you being annoying little shit, then that’s the whole month, brat.” you hissed.

“WOAH, someone likes that dirty talk. Kinky.” he trailed his fingertips on your arm. You kicked his hand with a smack, only to hear him mumble “Auch, rough, too.” with a sly smile. He is being entertained now. And you are the entertainer.

You didn’t care what other girls have done, that’s their life, their respect and decisions. YOU wouldn’t let that happen to you. Not with Jimin. Couldn’t he be like, normal for once, and ignore your existence? Anger flew trough you. You were red furious when you pinched closer, grabbed him by the throat, nails digging into his tender neck flesh, you lost control, the last drop overflew the glass you have been filling with annoyance and anger of him being rude and disrespectful to you.

“Touch me again, without my permission, douche, and I will cut this air flow to your non existing brain, are we clear kid?"

Minie and Jess, saw this thing went overboard, turned around when it was red light just to stop you two from killing eachother.

"Okay.” he said. Alright. That’s it. You stood for yourself. Turned around and watched the trees move again when green light showed up. You were on campus already, Jess finds a spot to park. Jimin held his throat, smiling like nothing happened, then you heard his smile voice grow again “Into chocking, huh?” his smile grew bigger and bigger as he got off the car, “I never would have guessed, but I like it.” He winked and with that he took off running, so you couldn’t catch him and kill him, per say.

TAEHYUNG / V

Being one of the boys was kinda a normal to you. You were always labeled a tomboy and to be honest you didn't hate it. It had its beneficial aspects. For example boys didn't try to use you, you didn't have those fake girl friends, most of boy friends are actually really easy and honest. Obnoxious - YES, but honest. On the other side, it was hard to date, because all your boy squad will scare him away, or tell you he wasn't good enough for you which you knew, but SOMETIMES A GIRL JUST WANNA KISS. You're not gonna marry a douche. You are rarely girly, because being girly is a opportunity to be mocked by them. All of your girlfriends, which was a small few, are possible hookups to them and you had no saying in it as they had in your love interests. Unfair. Tae will purposely tell guys to stay away from you. Or scare away the freshmen that pick up a courage to try and pick you up with cheesy lines. Namjoon would sometimes tell him to chill, and let you breathe, and you thank him for that with a ice cream cone once in a while. And he'll give you the same lecture every time, "You know I can't protect you from them all the time. You need to find a girlfriend to do this love life shit with. And this ice cream is not really worth it to go against their back…" "You sure about that? Your passionate licking tells me otherwise." "I mean mostly it is, but it's getting transparent what I am trying to do here. Just get ready and go clubbing sometimes without us Go with your girlfriends from the dorm. Just know that one call will get us there where you are if something goes wrong." And You'd say "Okay, I will." Every time but you never do it. Your girl friends are just not - not them. You don't mind not hooking up most of the time. But a period comes when you really wanna kiss somebody, and then you drown yourself in Vodka. Or Tequila. Or anything that'll help you forget how much you wanna kiss Tae. You'd dance till your feet hurt as hell. You'd scream over the lines of every love song they play. You'd make fool out of yourself. And you don't have to worry because your male squad is there to take care of you. Same one, that is hooking up rn, and same one that have a designated driver and a designated someone who will look over, specifically, you. That was the deal, every week one of them is the driver and "the look out for Y/N". This week that was Tae. You sat at the booth you got reserved. Next to Tae. “Where are they?" "Jimin was grinding over the blonde in the corner. Namjoon is at the bar with the redhead. Hoseok -" You stopped him mid sentence and continued "- at the dance floor, with god knows who, kissing god knows who." "As usual." He said. "You jealous TaeTae?" - You bopped his nose in playful tone - "You'd loooooooove to be nuzzled in someone's neck right now, making tons of hickeys. BUT YOU'RE STUCK WITH ME." - It was really pathetic telling him that last part of the sentence. He ignored your drunk ass - "Jungkook is already at the bathroom going at it. I gave him my condom, that crazy kid. Yoongi and Jin are god knows where I lost them. Probably somewhere, making puns and wining in life. And yes, I AM here stuck with YOU" - He bopped your nose back. Your head fell down, eyes filled with tears, not that he saw. You put your hand on his leg, squeezing the thigh. He didn't expect that. He got shivers. He didn't expect that too. You looked him in the eyes - "Is that what I am to you, a fucking bother?" - you stood up. You're leaving this place right now. You don't need them. You can go back. You can order a uber. An uber driver can be a murderer. But you're not that pretty anyways. "Where the heck do you think you're going to?" he mocked you, laughing. You wobbled around. You're too drunk for this. You should stop drinking. Or stop drinking this much. "What do you care where I am gonna end up to? Will I get murdered? Or not?" - you made no sense. "And I am perfectly fine for your information. I'm not that pretty to be murdered.” - he laughed harder. "Don't you laugh at me, you moron." - you came back just to hit him. He welcomed your hits. He caught your hands, locked his gaze on you and then he kissed you.. You stopped breathing for a second, you stopped crying, you stopped hitting him, and stopped screaming at him. World stopped spinning for that ten seconds too. "Stop it, you're drunk, Tae." - this was not the first kiss you shared, every time Tae drunk as an ass when it happened, every time you stopped him telling him he's drunk. "No I am not, I'm sober as a cop tonight. Remember?"

JUNGKOOK

I think it's understatement to say you are crushing on Jungkook. It's been too long to even remember when this started for you. He's the best friend of your brother. He's always at your house, since you were 8, and he moved down the street, and stole Michael's bike. So Mike ran back to your mom crying to go and retrieve the bike Jeongook stole. He didn't stole it, per say, he just borrowed it. For a couple of hours, to drive, without giving it back to Mike and ignoring him all together, later stashing it in his garage as his own. Okay, he stole it. But he was not a bad kid. Then he kept getting Mike to play with him, you were somewhere there playing sometimes with them, sometimes with Anna across the road. School started, years passed, and puberty came. Some of you, him per say got handsome, muscly, jawline got sharper, and he got taller. Long story short, puberty hit him like a truck, no, even better, like a bus. You for example, almost got hit crossing a zebra of adolescence, but the puberty saw you just in time so you didn't get hit at all. Puberty got out in a hurry at the crime scene with a simple sorry. You got to work for your beauty yourself. Pluck those bushes above your eyes. Strip the mustache that Jeongook didn't even grow out, yet somehow you had it. Shave your legs. Buy pushup bras, that didn't do wonders for your non existent boobs, because in order for push up bra to work it needs little some-something to push - up. Girls got prettier day by day, and you got more and more friend-zoned by Jungkook day by day. He started dating, you started extra curriculum activities. He was going to parties, you were going to poetry slam nights at the local coffee shop. Until one night, he was knocking at your window at 2 am. You heard a knock while finishing a book, yes, at 2am. A crying mess. You opened a window, expecting Mike to sneak in as usual. But when dark figure that was inside your bedroom, pulled down the hoodie, you almost screamed. His hand found your lips, and shut it quickly. "shhhhhhhhhh.. " - he looked at you once more, moonlight only thing that was on at this our, making your face barely visible - "were… you.. crying?" "What?" - you remembered the book - "uhh, no, allergies." "At night?" - he laughed. "It's that bush you climbed on, I swear to god, imma make dad cut it down." "Don't" - he said alarmingly, - "How am I gonna sneak into your room at night then?" Your heart skipped a beat at this teasing he always did even though you looked like it didn't - "You'd just have to stop doing it." - he made a fake crying face - "Why are you here, now?" "Kaitlyn threw me out, her parents got home early from their business trip." - he joked. Or Jacob came early, you chuckled. "And you told your parents you are at??" "at yours.. I mean Mike's. " "Of course." -irony came out. "Are you mad?" "Well you literally barged in my room at 2am.. It's not like I am happy.." - you grumbled, sitting back on your bed. "You're the only girl in our school, no, town, who would be mad I got into her bedroom at night." - he jokes, "Cocky much?" - but see you're not laughing with him, - "Or I could leave." "And where would this gentleman go, to who's girl bedroom in this time of the night?" - your curiousness got to you. "No one's, Kaitlyn and I are official now." , Except she's cheating on you, you thought. "My ass you are." - you muttered to yourself, "But here you are." - you sounded bitterly.

"You know that you don't count, Y/N. " You arched an eyebrow. "Does she know that though, Jeongook? "She doesn't have to know. It' not like anything is gonna happen. C'mon, You're not gonna throw me out.."

"Maybe I should." "But, Y/N, I don't have anywhere to go." What do you do when a poor puppy comes to you for help?

"I guess you can sleep on the floor. You know where the blanket's are, don't touch anything else." "Thank you. I won't." You usually wake up hugging a pillow. Today you hugged something more stiff. Longer too. Bigger too. Warmer too. Also smelled nice. You nuzzled your face into it, not opening your eyes once. His arms wrapping in a perfect loop just for your shoulders to fit in. You continued to sleep. After fifteen minutes the alarm started ringing. You snoozed it by memory and turned your back to the "pillow". He hugged you tight around the waist. Pressing your body to his. "Good morning, Y/N."

Waaaaaaait, wha--? Your pillow doesn't talk. Or smell. Or hugs you back. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THAT YOU'RE DOING? I TOLD YOU TO SLEEP ON THE FLOOR."

"No, mid night you said I can hop on. You even took my hand, played with it, laced your fingers with mine. And told me the truth." - he said sleepy voice. Oh gosh you could wake up to this every day. Wait what truth? "Jeongook?" "Yeah?" "You know for a fact I sleep talk shit."

"No."

"No?" "I know for a fact you sleep talk the truth you usually hide. Like the when you saw Mike hiding the gummy bears in the ziplockbag under the hollow box. You told me that while sleeping, and I found them and then we ate them together without him. I still remember his face when he found a FUCK YOU!note." - he laughed wholeheartedly, eyes closed. This feels so casual and nice. Why can't I be Kaitlyn, I'd never cheat on him. "You're missing the point here. What did I tell you?" "Nothing. Get up, we're gonna be late to school." "Since when do you care?" "Since today." WHAT THE HELL. He left. Through the window. "We have doors, you know." "I know." - He smiled back. He went insane. ------ Lunch break. You spotted Jeongook, alone. Now's the time. You took him by the hand. He let you. You dragged him across the yard. He let you. You hurried. He slowed you down. You sat at the far back bench. He stood next to it.

"Sit." you ordered.

"Why?" he asked. "Just for five minutes."

"Okay" "Tell me what I said tonight." "The truth." "I got that, dumbass. But what did I exactly say?" He took your hand, taking you by surprise. He laces your fingers with yours. Slides across the bench closer to you. Clasping your hands together. You kept watching your hands intertwined. How a nice feeling to feel. Your eardrums had a beat of your heart on them. Blood rushed from your to your head and you could swear to god you could feel it. His lips parted, his hand played with your fingers. "Don't be with Kaitlyn, Gookah." - he suddenly said. You still kept quiet. Lips pressed into a thin line. "Why?" - he said in more masculine tone. He was finally telling you what you wanted to know. And it terrifies you. You knew what he did. He did the Ken and Barbie thing you did as a kid. You stopped breathing. You can't look him in the eye. Still playing with your fingers, leaving slow and gentle touches all over it, how you probably did to him yesterday - "She is a bad person." "How do you know?" - You were afraid of this. "I saw her.." -Oh god you didn't say this. "and?" - he was asking questions to you on purpose.

"and it's not on me to tell.. " - Yes that’s where It should end. "but?" "but.. She's two timing, she is with Jacob. I am sorry." "It's okay."

You stopped his monologue. "I am really sorry. It's not a way to find out. " He stopped you, now, mid sentence - "I am not finished." He looked you in the eyes. He continued. Oh god, no.

"But I'd never do that to you." - You prayed hard this isn't what you did say in your sleep. "I know."

"I'd never cheat on you, Gook." - All life you had left in your face, vanished.

"I'd never cheat on you, Y/N." - All life that had left you, came back. Your eyes warm. His voice honey like. "I know." "Can I got on the bed now?" - His smile smug. You didn't call him up, after all. "If you're cold." - He took you from the bench, put you on his lap, whispering "I am cold, Y/N."

It sent shivers down your spine, as his lips found yours, fitting perfectly into each others. Low on breath, he stopped, just to say -

"Don't cut that bush for real now."

"Stop lying I invited you to my bed, you freak."

"Will you invite me now? "

"I don't know. Not yet. You can sleep on the floor like yesterday."

"But I didn't sleep on the floor yesterday. Oooh" - He wanted to hug you much closer than he physically could.

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somethingvicked · 6 years ago

Text

Masquerade of Life

Chapter 1

Claire

My cellphone rang the moment I came into my dorm room. I had just sat through a lecture about Dante Alighieri and what his work had meant to modern poetry, so a bit of distraction was very welcome, making me answer quickly before the caller hung up.

"Hello?"

"Claire?" I heard my father, Charlie Swan ask at the other end of the receiver.

It's my phone dad, who else, I thought to myself as I smiled from hearing from my father "No, chief Swan, you have actually reached Queen Elizabeth II. God bless me!" I exclaimed with my best British accent.

Charlie chuckled but his heart wasn't in it, which I immediately noticed and got tense. Something must be wrong.

"Nice to see one of my daughters still has her humor intact," he muttered making me confused.

"What?" I wondered, silently begging him to explain. So this, whatever it was must be about Bella.

My fraternal twin sister Isabella was currently living with our dad in Forks, Washington while I lived in London, attending Queen Mary's University. It was the first time Bella and I had been separated in our 18-years of life.

Up until a year ago we had both lived with our mom, Renee and then later her husband Phil. Renee and Charlie had met when Renee was only 19 and gotten headfirst into a marriage and then getting pregnant with us only a few months later.

Renee had tried, I guess, but it was no secret she hated Forks. She hated the constant rain, the small town life and only meeting the same people over and over. So when me and Bella were just toddlers she took us and left, divorcing Charlie in the process as he didn't want to leave Forks.

She moved to Phoenix in Arizona and it was not a bad place to live. Always sunny, lots of other children and never boring. I missed my dad lots though, making a habit out of going to Forks and visit him every Christmas and Easter.

Bella did so too during our younger years, but apparently lost interest when we were around 11 years old. She didn't like Forks either, she hated the rain and the coldness. Instead dad had to take a trip to California, booking rooms at a hotel as a compromise for Bella. I didn't like that and I had told Bella many times. Charlie shouldn't have to leave his home just to see his daughters. But Bella only said the rain made her depressed; making her want to curl up in bed and never get up.

The weather in Forks could be depressing, yes, she had a point there. But the fact that she couldn't put up with it for two-three weeks every year just to see our father, her own flesh and blood, made me angry at her and it was a recurring factor in the few arguments we had.

Which had made me even more astonished when Bella had decided to move to Forks last year when I got a letter from England, telling me that I had gotten an early acceptance into the Queen Mary University of London, a school for drama and literature – everything I had ever dreamed of!

Secretly I was also relieved because it would give me the chance to be something else than Bella Swan's sister. I loved Bella, I really did – we had come into this world together, me being just 11 minutes younger than her – we were family. But all my life I had to watch out for her. Even when we were little girls.

For some reason Bella was so utterly clumsy that she managed to trip over daisies and spraining her foot while walking over soft beach sand. And all my life, ever since I was old enough to understand the words it had been "Please watch over your sister, Claire! We don't want her to hurt herself!"

It was no different when we got older either. Renee had always been a bit of an eccentric mom, wanting us to try out as many hobbies as possible. Now, with a child like Bella one would think that she could leave her out of things such as volleyball, ballet and horse riding. But nope. And if Bella came home with a bruised face because the volleyball had hit her in the face I knew what would come: "Why didn't you look after Bella, Claire?" Same if she broke her toes during ballet practice. Or fell of a horse.

Bella didn't like it either – I assume no one would like to hear constant reminders that they need a baby sitter, especially as the oldest sister.

I couldn't resent my mom though. She was one of those eternal children of the world that never really grew up. She didn't know how to handle Bella's constant accidents so she looked to me for handling it.

It was also thanks to Renee that I found two of my biggest passions: Theater and kick boxing. I had joined a drama club at the age of 10 and been a member ever since. It was because of that it got me my early acceptance into the university.

By then Renee had met Phil, a junior league baseball player and married him. He was a bit younger than her but our mother had always seemed younger than her age so they mixed well together. But he had to travel a lot in his work and Renee missed him terribly. She tried to make it seem like no big deal but it was like watching an exotic flower wither in loss of the sun.

I sometimes played with the idea of bringing up moving to Forks for the last two school years, but I always thought better of it because of Bella's attitude to Fork's. Then when my acceptance letter came, Bella suddenly said she would go live with Charlie. Since I wouldn't be home anymore either then mom could travel with Phil.

When saying this she sounded more like someone in court pleading guilty to make a better deal but I kept my mouth shut. Charlie would be really happy to have Bella living with him and Renee would be happy to be with Phil. If Bella wanted to play the martyr and hope it got her into heaven I would let her.

It probably sounded like I resent my sister – I really don't. But even though she's my twin she can be a bit of a whiny brat sometimes. She was responsible in her own way, absolutely, no trouble maker at all. And she and I had silently shared the housework between us for years as it was easier doing so than trusting our mom to remember it. Neither Bella or I had complained about that - so I couldn't say she never helped out around home either.

But Bella shied away from people, not making contact and being socially awkward when I tried introducing some of my friends. I didn't fault her for that though – some people were just like that, introverts. But it was her face of moping and loneliness in the corridors of school that irritated me. One can't both complain about feeling like an outsider and not wanting anything to do with people at the same time.

The way she manipulated the love our dad had for us also made me angry – it always had to be about whether Bella was comfortable or not during our visits, not what Charlie or I wanted.

But when telling her this I always got a sad puppy-dog look and a: "How can you think that about me, Claire?!"

I woke up from my thoughts about my sister when Charlie asked in a high voice: "Claire! Have you even heard a thing I said?"

"Umm … no, sorry, dad. What did you say?"

Charlie sighed. "It's about that boy … Edward. She told you about him, right?"

Yeah, she did. Bella and I didn't talk regularly but we exchanged emails from time to time. I had thought about sending her postcards or letters from London but on a student scholarship I couldn't really afford it.

Bella had told me about this guy, Edward Cullen that she had started to date last year. It was a bit mysterious since Bella had seemed head over heels for him at first. Then, over a weekend she had suddenly broke it off with him, fleeing away from Forks, telling Charlie she didn't want to get stuck like our mother (way to go with hurting dad with just words, Bella!). And then Edward had gone after her and it all ended with Bella tripping down the stairs and crashing into a window, breaking her leg.

I had wanted to come to the hospital but mom had pleaded with me to stay in London. Bella was okay and apparently she didn't want me to come. Thanks for that one, sis.

I always wondered if Edward was the one that had hurt her, making her come back to him and back to Forks. But when I tried to ask Bella about the accident she had blown up at me and said Edward would never harm her, closed our chat window and ignored me for weeks.

Touchy.

Last I heard from Bella had been on our birthday two months ago and then everything seemed fine. In fact she mentioned that Edward's family was going to throw her a birthday party – just for her and them since they knew what Bella thought about birthday celebration. I thought it very sweet of them.

"What about him?" I asked Charlie, pushing my thoughts away again.

"Well … the day after yours and Bella's birthday … he and his family just … left! They left their house, Forks, everything. Edward apparently broke up with Bella and she … I don't know what happened – she didn't come home that night and this guy from La Push found her in the woods, all curled up and … and I don't know what to do, Claire. She's like a shell of her former self. She does everything asked of her but … and she's screaming during the nights. Crying in her sleep like someone's shoved a knife through her. Every freaking night, Claire!"

My father's voice broke and I could feel his pain inside my chest. It must be very bad if he called me.

"That's so awful," I said. "How could they just leave like that? And did that had anything to do with why he and Bella broke up?"

"I don't know," Charlie said. "Bella never told me much about him. I thought him a good kid despite everything. The doctor and his wife are nice people after all."

I sighed again. "Do you want me to come home, dad?"

He mimicked my sigh. "You don't have to Claire, I hope you know that. But honestly … neither I nor Renee know what to do with your sister. Renee thought you might know, with how close you guys have always been … it's okay with me if you don't, but it would also be nice to not be alone in this."

I frowned when he mentioned my mother's thoughts about me and Bella. Renee had always had some kind of mythological thoughts about us since we were twins and twins were supposed to understand everything about each other. I had tried to explain to Renee that is was really just a myth and that we were fraternal twins on top of that – not really closer than regular siblings since we didn't have the exact same DNA like identical twins did.

Me and Bella had been close as children when we really just were everything the other one had but as we grew and developed our own personalities and interests we grew apart from each other. That didn't mean that we didn't care about each other but we were not like Renee thought us.

"I understand, dad," I told Charlie, "Umm … well I have to speak to the university counselors and make a few arrangements. It's almost Christmas and just a few lectures left. I should be able to do them over distance. Then we can try and figure this out over the holiday."

Charlie exhaled in the other end, relief palpable in his tone. "Really? That's great, sweetheart. Thank you. Call me when you've gotten the go from your teachers, I'll book you a ticket home."

"I will daddy. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie," Charlie mumbled and then hung up.

I tossed my cellphone on the bed in my little dorm room, angrily punching my bookshelf. What the hell had that boy done to Bella?!

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #caius volturi #lovestory

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notailtheories · 6 years ago

Text

NotailsAndMore Tweet Compilation 2

Last Compilation | Next Compilation

This section will contain the tweets that I consider make up Act 2. Because they are not actually from O-1, you could also consider them an intermission... But they still hold important information either way. OwO

This batch of tweets began a little over an hour after the last round stopped... Which isn’t a very long pause. You can most easily tell the difference because this person’s face is “TvT” rather than “=)”, if you’re looking to track these from the Twitter itself... OwO

98 |

I passed out and I wake up to me being logged into this creepy ass notail fact account. Fuck off who did this? TvT

Reply to 8, & 99 |

hate to be a stickler for details but you didn't say a fact just a question tho i *would* like to know some notail facts about my dark past :D

Holy fuck. Look if you know me O-2 sir I just want you to know I did not make this account or tweeped at you, I just woke up to this. Who tweeps shit like this at an O-class? TvT

100, reply, & 102, reply, 108, reply, & 112 |

X-7364 if this was you and some of your shitty experiments I WILL strangle all of your dirty rats. These O classes could order my death for no reason. You even used my actual email to do this. They could figure out who I am! TvT

Your buddy even said "fuck you" to me. Now that guy's got some real claws. >:3

I am so sorry O-6 sir. I had nothing to do with this but I will still apologize. Please forgive me, I'm ok if you don't forgive my friend and kill him though. TvT

Grovelling ain't pretty, you know. But hey, you ain't done anything, right? Maybe I'll let you go. >:3

You would be most kind if you let me go for words that were not my own. Thank you. TvT

I'll think about it. >:3

Thank you. That is all I ask, and all I am allowed to ask. TvT

Reply to 98, 101, reply, 109, reply, 113, reply, 114, reply, & 115, reply, 118, reply, 119, reply, 120, reply, 122, reply, 124, reply, 125, reply, & 126 |

lol u rly had me worried there sweetie :3 im still curious abt this whole thing if u want 2 help me find out abt it :3

I didn't write any of this! This has to be an X class prank. "Ha Ha, make your friend pass out, make an account with their email and possibly kill them by telling O-6 that you love them. So funny!" TvT

lmao u creeped out like every single o class tho i think thats kinda an achievement u should be proud of urself :3 whoever made this account was saying some really spooky stuff tho do u think it was just creepypasta or what :3

Please don't say I did it. I had nothing to do with this. I wouldn't contact the O classes, much less say such things to them, for they are most favorable to my survival. It was just some shitty prank. Some of the reactions are, strange, but that is no matter to me. TvT

watching u suck up 2 them is rly funny lol but kk babe i guess ill drop it :3 smh i thought this was something cool :3

I rather not relate "something cool" with angering the O classes but I understand. TvT

suckuuuuuuuup :3

I rather live a suck up than die for something I didn't do. TvT

how abt i give u smth else 2 suck on hot stuff :3

Look I don't even have a tweeper and I'm about to abandon this account and never touch it again. So my response to that is "um bye." TvT

i hate 2 see u leave but i love 2 watch u go :3

That's extremely holy and not ok. TvT

i hope ur not as disappointing in bed as ur friends failed arg was on tweeper :3

How could a notail raise so high to grace? TvT

u sure raise some things of mine baby :3

I would block you but I'm not going to be related to this account anymore, and if my friend logs back in I'm ok with him getting fucked over by your words. TvT

id prefer 4 u 2 to get fucked by me :3

Courtship between notails is not ok, but I suppose you know that. Just understand that "no." TvT

lol our society sux anyway i dont think its possible to pollute our gene pool more than its already fucked up babe :3

Ok well society gives me a roof over my head, food, and the time I got bit by a mallon I was experimenting on society fixed my arm before it rotted away. So we'll have to agree to disagree. TvT

lmao :3 the more u talk the more stupid and boring u seem :3

Says the notail who keeps going after clearly making me uncomfortable. But "sigh" I guess that's most people. TvT

ppl are funniest when theyre uncomfortable :3

Typical notail. You fit in just nicely. TvT

Original, 103, reply, & 105 |

@NotailsAndMore is it time for my 13 other facts?

Look it up yourself? Go read the Cosmosdex or something. I may be a K class but I'm not some fact machine. TvT

The what

Can you not look up basic and common terms? Geez look. http://cosmosdex.com/cosmosdex/ TvT

104, reply, & 107 |

X-7364 just walked in with coffee and called me a sleepy head. Said I passed out after intensely working on typing. Said I wouldn't respond to me when he had a question. He's lying, he knows he went overboard this time. TvT

You may want to improve your security. This could have ended very badly for you. :V

I will do what you recommended O-7 sir as you are most wise as all O classes are. I do have good security, I must have passed out so fast my computer didn't lock so my roommate and coworker decided to fuck with me. TvT

106, reply, 111, reply, & 117 |

I just checked the profile page to see if I could find some evidence of who did this. "i'm not sorry i told the truth when you didn't. no one deserves lies." The hell. If this is over lying about who ate the last pizza I'm going to be pissed. TvT

This went better for you than it could have mate, but I would recommend keeping closer guard over your belongings. Some of the other O-classes seem a bit agitated right now. uvu

Fully understood O-5, who kicks clockworks across the skies. I'll attempt to not pass out at my computer with my roommate around. TvT

The epithets aren't necessary mate. But maybe give your roommate a kick so they don't pull this again for good measure. uvu

I will make sure to give him a kick no matter how much he says he had nothing to do with this. Thank you for the advice O class. TvT

Original, & 110 |

@NotailsAndMore Once you figure out who did this, send me their ID number. Immediately. unu

I....think it's my roommate X-7364, but he's swearing the whole time this was going on I was working and refused to respond. I don't believe him but he sounds so serious about this. TvT

Reply to other party, & 116 |

Is there any way I can convince it to become a solid Yes? c:<

(Note: I won’t record this whole exchange because I don’t think it’s relevant... The context is O-8 is looking for who made this account. That’s all. OwO)

I know this is rude of me, and feel free to confirm this, but will you spare my roommate? He seems so honest in his pleads that he didn't do it.... He's the only one who could have done it, so it's him, but it seems like he regrets it deeply now. TvT

Original, 121, reply, 123, reply, & 127 |

I really am impressed by how many people they managed to unsettle in, what, an hour? uvu

Honestly as an X class he is naturally unsettling but I've never seen him act this badly. I wonder if I really ticked him off with the pizza thing. TvT

I've dealt with much worse than some X class...if it was just that then whatever...what does your friend know....OwO

I wish he would just admit it already. He said a few really odd things on this account and I have no idea where he's getting it from. Just. Fucking admit it X! Why is he being so rude to O classes you guys could KILL or BANISH us. TvT

It feels like something stranger is going on...OwO

It's just a stupid prank. A stupid prank that's now getting us basically evicted cause we can't stay here anymore. Stupid, stupid, prank. TvT

128, & 129 |

Ok this account is done. My roommate likely made this account as a laugh and somehow got the attention of the O classes. I'm sorry this happened even though I had nothing to do with it. I wish I could say my friend was sorry too but he's pissed off. TvT

Logging out, and never logging back in again. Yet again. Sorry for all the problems this account caused. Just unfollow this account. Bye. TvT

[ THIS ACCOUNT IS DEAD | Shitty prank by shitty roommate/friend who refuses to admit it | Will never be logging in ever again ]

Last Compilation | Next Compilation

#fortuna #cosmosdex #category: references #category: o1 #category: notailsandmore #category: twitter #mod OwO

1 note · View note

ubelyptus · 7 years ago

Text

soooooooooooo bb,,,...,.,,,strawberrry.

......I JUST FIND IT

interestinggggggggg

how you Big mad cuz MY block game seeems

skrong or summn

hanh???

oh.

well.

i never blockedt you

on snapchat

or whatsapp (you weren’t even muted),

yup, i still haven’t

but i didn’t have a properly working phone...

still......don’t

but either way you keep threatening to split on me

like a weapon…fcking

manipulative as shit

it just seems to me that you just want to?

you never imprinted tho

but she did

so why should you?

i won’t ever, again, fight....

….with you.

my favorite accomplice

i wanted to learn with an open mind

even after my phone died

how to remain soft with you.

even after being callled

“old news"

pffft

at least until

i ‘m eventually murdered by a cisgender man...

but

don’t fckn

pppppppop shit

cuz like….. literally…..all i did was change my url.

shit, i Only blockedt you AFTER i saw you referencing gaslighting.

bc uhmm IIIIIIif that is about meeeeeeeeeeee

ha!!!

how fucking dare you.…..lyk....wuhh?

like when you said there is no difference between syn and alesia?????

HANH?

oh, but you think i blockedt you first bc i didn’t wanna get my feelings hurt?

….mhhhhhhh. ok.

seeems odd since you’re not liar

right, eli????

but,,,,,so what’s this about the cozi password change? am i just shifting too rapidly between your and my reality???

bet.

no, i blocked you on things after THAT

AND THAT WAS TODAY

oh, and didn’t your friend, my so-called “fighting buddy,” anan…

.just,,,,,fckn block me like i’m useless

trash

randomnly

after all

i asked

was that they

not speak to me

about you?

but YAAAAAAS twas ONLY Me and simply Myself and just i

who ain’t wanna get….hurt.

hanh?????

oh ,

obvi,

yeaaaaaaa

yeeeei

truuuu,

sooooo

sssssorry,,,,but

calling me “old news” or saying i’m “old too”

don’t forget your girl is 2 yrs older than you

and then staying silent for these few days about changing passwords

that..... already did that, boo

at least i sent alesia third party emails thru the app, boo

she pushin 30 and can only talk you

venuse....????. no....a

talking and

w a l k i ng tragedy

entyway don’t bring that up just to be loud and wrong about that too

you’re not always wrong tho, you know

you’d probably fuck up and slit my throat

powertripping

when i’m wrong about you

and you can only do that if you

black and white

me out

to NEVER BE WRONG

AND I DO

ACTUALLLY HATE THAT ABOUT YOU!!!!!

WHY CAN’T I EVER BE WRONG, ELI????

WHY????//

OH your emotions....? about your father that after 6 yrs you didn’t tell me about?

your reality? when you have a habit of projecting?

and lowkey being dishonest

to yourself first

and then subsequently

to me????

your time? when i’m mostly on yours?????

your efforts? like ripping up notes and telling me

“my turn” to get fucked

by you

was over

when the only reason i was tiredt

was bc i crashed

too tiredt after explaining to You

that

i‘m not even going to LET you play middleman

for a baby pushign 30????

oh. bet.

but since we’re being transparent:

here are receipts with timestamps:

http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-hop-hop

http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop+hop+bun

http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-bunny

yea you must love dirty laundry

oh.

but that’s what i knew about you.

oh:

be yr own guest my love

i Knew you would ignore the “old news” message since that's literally when you started telling on yourself

you do treat trans partners

like side hoes,

thasssa wholeBET

and some change

for you to create

cuz thassssssss

how you feel about me fr fr

so that “like” is mine but

i…..actually really Really love that you laughed tho.

bc i haven’t heard you fully belly laugh in a long time.

if ever iirh.

even after knowing you for 6+ years,

your supposed “first friend “ in the DMV

the person i can trust my life with

the only

you’re my only...

,,,,,even after i spiraled

and cut myself for the first time since middle school?

now my friends are fucking spotting you

and talking to each other

about you

oh, you didn’t know.

but i got mehndi done today

let a summer baby boy

love

a cut up

by me

body

before noon

today

thinking i’d see you and we could talk like,,,,

…..like real people do.

and you’d be distracted by the design and not zone in

on the failed cuts

on my wrist

since i’m shit at not just repeatedly carving into

white meat

when i can only use a ceramic blade

i just didn’t WANT you to

so i never “came home to [you]”

you said that on nov 4th/5th of last year

and

i’ve been looking up bpd all day

eventho i told you

i don’t trust the internet

sooooo you not telling me

didn’t hel p

but it’snot at all your job to

and i sitll

stilllstil stil stilllca’t see

....and i dind’t want you to see.

bc i’m not just a man.

i’m still femme

which you seem to love to forget

and still soft enough, i think.....

i hope…..or learning to be soft,,,,

where it won’t get me killed,,,,,

but where it still counts.

with…or without you.

either way i’m a man who loves you. a man whose phone died at 28% trying to get you to see that i was trying to be soft even after you called me

“old news”

but,,,,,.....,,,compared to …..who?????? sh....oooo??????

your new girlfriend who is 1 or 2 years older than you?????

and can’t speak to me

a man who is only barely out of 23???

and instead only whispers

to you?????

bruh, she’s clearly not fond of me.

and you’re not a liar ,

so don’t

she had to tell you that she wasn’t the one putting out “aggy energy”

specifically

during yennayer which

i ruined

and im still sorru

but which means

she’s probably done it in your apartment on purpose already, boo

didn’t think of that, did you

lingustically.,,,,,nope.

oh, but there’s power in a whisper, darling.

i am just cardinal like you

i am air too.

i should know

bc i accidentally whistled....and,,,,,,

i only blockedt you so that you wouldn’t “hurt [your] own feelings”

like you told anan you sometimes do.

sooooooooooooo yea... i

did it so you wouldn’t hurt you.

as cardinal water/pisces moons

are prone to do.

you can;t drain

and you can’t drown

ain’t that how i affirmed you

i already hurt me

when i dissociated

and i’m STILL FUCKING sorry

that there was blood that you had to see.

i couldn’t stay in my body long enough to clean fast enough

but i still didn’t want you to hurt you bc of me.

like you did repeatedly

bc of bpd or bc of basically cishet or at least cis ~queer girls

or other partners

like when you were with kat,

who’s still disgustingly attached to a messy white

and now a new black kid.....

or with shushoo.

and how you might with alesia.

no, correction: how you have with alesia.

how you will continue to, if you’re not careful, with alesia.

you’re a lion facing a prince of a house kitten ,....,

.,, who is homeless.

do you feel good, big boss?

all i asked was for you to listen t

o how you were speaking to me

on the phone

at your place of work

and when she’s there

possibly a place of worshiop

..... even after i told you

that i was intentionally putting energy into Not fighting you

and you

say you

"don’t wanna be a middle person"

but you also….wanna cape for yet another fucking cis girl.

who isn’t even muslim this time.

HOWtragic.

i couldn’t laugh

couldn’t ever laugh at sway

bc by whatever fortune if you do split or don’t

i still love you

i love you too much

but in those moments after that phone call….

after my phone died…

and my body couldn’t move to charge it.

wouldn’t move….

and all i could do was cry during the adhan.

bc you’re tooo much like matt now

i wish i knew what it could feel like to

hate someone

who called you

"OLD NEWS”

compared to a bitch pushing 30

youza WHOLE fuckn clown, dawg.

matt did this same shit

move me out for a new side bitch

yet anotehr cis

look at how cute trans love can be

no,

this is what you give me:

laughter.

BC what fucking luck.

BUT IT’S gotta be TROOF

s ince you don’t lie?/?

shit I LAUGHED TOO:

it sounds like….

NEITHER OF US

KNEW WHAT COULD

HAVE BROUGHT US

HERE, ELI.

maybe you nursing poison in your own home

and telling me i’m making you feel unwelcomed

on a blog and not to my face did it

fuckingggggggggg. why’ald.

you think it’s too much sweat????? false.

that apartment stayed cold.

too many tears?

ok ok yea troof.

but too much love? forreal?

we?????

ooooop

hoooop!!!

oh, you speakin’ french now. our collective colonizers tongue in 20gayteeeeeeeen?????

CAN’T RELATE

bc I’M TOOOOOO GAY

wow. we ruined it, fam???? fr fr?

nah, chosen fam.

you ruined us.

you ruined us over:

a cis girl and

your own impatience

and your own anger.

and my slow brain and my slow body

i’m not sure she’d find you from maryland

if you dissociated bc your other semi

but not

girlfriend emotionally abused you

until people who didn’t know you were muslim

thought you were fucking drunk

and you fucking stilllllll

work with her?????

why couldn’t you just wait until she found a new job???

ain’t she trying????

or izzzzzz she??????

hahhnh???

where was the damn rush?????

you’re like two goofy high schoool kids

reaching for the quickest nuts every 6 hours

like jesus fuck.

you’re irresponsible as shit telling me i’m a grown man making grown decisions and i see this

?????

unREASONABLE, ELI.

this isn’t a situation of a kettle calling a pot black

babe

bc i’m actually Black

and you’re not

but she’s black too.

what did i tell you:

"you datin’ two whole Niggas. if you fight me over her, you will lose either way.”

but instead you called me “obtuse”

SAT words for me

but not for you…….what.,,,.,,,,,,,, fckn luck……..

what luck,,,,,that the one person who housed me consistently

and kept me alive

when i trusted no one

would call me "old news”

and let their cis girlfriend

turn herself into your

personal "healing” …...

sibkid. \\\\

howTragic like all of CC’18

you know what happens when you slip and get sloppy and let a baby bitch be responsible for your healing?

she leaves.

for a real bitch

with microhealing abilities,

GOOFY.

she worships a new goddess every friday?????

well, i know only of orixas

and only of black power

but from what i know of goddesses OFF of OUR continent…

soooon...

at least one of them WILL want a soul from her

just letting you know it might not have to be hers.

…..OH!

and when i chargedt and openedt my phone after days of wandering. ….the last messages from you are:

YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID “LEAVE [[[[MMMMMYYYYYYY]]]]]] KEYS”

like a fucking baby.

imagine that.

even to you, i’m still a whore.

out…the…bakc….dooor.

??????

i couldn’t even work a john when i wanted to

if i was sad about you.

but imagine?????

a cis-pixie woman older than you

letting you treat her like a child?????

then

imagine me feeling shamed into leaving

bc of pictures of your smiling face

after i cut myself and felt shame

that

in your unwelcomed to both me and you

BLOOD

blood

is what brings me back

to life.

how.

fucking.

why’yald.

i blockedt you so that you didn’t lurk.

bc THat is what you do.

instead of speaking with me,

you seem to have expected me

to read your blog back 7 years.

and just know all of the fatherly things that trigger you.

like…even during the times when i was afraid of my own phone and laptop for 2 months bc of my sister, brother, and birth parents????

funny how i’m the youngest of us “grown folks” and yet still find that really

FUCKING

immature.

of YOU

to do

you really never knew me, or did you…..??

you donated to me before you even knew me.

so i know your heart has parts made of gold.

but now you show off your crystals and your gold.~~~

yep.

here we are.

you’ve "only every seen [me] as a boy.”

ok. bet.

and unti this post:

i’ve hardly heard you refer to me as a man.

so:

ain’t you late?

ain’t you late, babe??

ain’t you late?

i’m a year younger than you.

which means if you grown

i musta BEEN a man too, boo.

but you’ll always be

my favorite accomplice

and always be my favorite friend too.

but you cannot think you can play me by calling me

“old too” or “old news"

for young fish who is basically femme trade

and thinking i won’t cut open a fool.

which coincidentally always happens to be me

she’s hardly out to anybody important and lying at work too.

i must be bigger fool.

bc you knew better and didn’t do better.

but i’m being immature.

ok ...,.,,.,,

cute.

your pisces moon is keeping you from seeing clearly but that’s what young water seems…to do. to much light reflected; tho it is a fountain of youth.

she’s pushing 30 baby

but true, you’re her boo.

yea, a childish boo.

you ever wonder why her playlist from you had more songs than ours did?

why she can never keep a man around for valentines day?

oh but don’t you love “patterns”, baby????

unless it’s her leaving shit around the apartment

or her triggering you

or her treating your dick like it’s foreign,

even to you.

my gay ass was shookedt

when you told me you voluntarily

triggered yourself

for her kitty too

but i AM

a grown man

who is “running” from….you

you think that statement is not…. dishonest??

you really think that statement is true???

—

i didn’t run. i just

needed space

and you afforded me none.

you couldn’’t afford it.

february is before march which is before april

sooooooo it’s always a tight month ain’t it???????

oooooooh but you afforded her plenty.

she gets to take off her fucking pants while i try to figure out if i should move from a spot next to you….

on your fucking bed.

she took off her pants to climb near you before she could even say hi to

nooonoo

ahh right

and THEN ME.

“Oh, you CAN stay”

that’s what She told me.

and you said nothing.

so i left….the room.

i never run.

you pushed me out with your captain save-a-cis silence.

it’s violence.

and

you’re still pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing

until me…you know

i, the "old news”

just feels like he should just

fucking fall

onto the district streets

and she finds it

to her fucking fancy

to fall

into your lap

like a damn,,,,zel.

distressedt.

with a roof over her head outside of your apartment too.

woooooooops!

yip, as she is probably prone to do.

her kind….isn’t new….boo.

her kind isn’t new to me

her kind isn’t new to you

you ever wonder why she feels so familiar to you?

she reminds Me of the girl who told you

she could never marry you

and is now trying to date someone just like you

so don’t be so unkind to me

or to you

or be so foolish

as to believe i gave up on you

you gave up on me

and on top of that

you think i just...ran

ran….with what clothing?

the ones you packed up for me and left at the door

that i was suppose to pick up

and slide out the back….like a fucking whore?

you just tryna be

a cissie's bae

who stay clownin on trans folks now?

oooooooh issa bet, mo

. i mean.,,,.,,.mhhhh i guess?

—==—

but troooof, i don’t “need" anybody.

but i want you.

but you need her.

that’s how it work, don’t it?????

that’s why you risk job security every day.

and let her leave her panties on my clothes.

and let her tell me i "can stay" in …..A, not MY, spot next to you

in yo'bed?

what fucking fools. the two of you.

but “no one is forcing [me] to"

oh, baby you /are/ forcing me too

i look on your blog and then find out you’ve been feeling “unwelcome in [your] own home”

this whole fucking time

all the way since early november, innit?????

if i love you at all,

what else am i to do?????????????

??????????????????????????/

know that you will self-destruct

and just…wait for you to????????????????????

???????????????????????????????/

i didn’t run.

you just fucking pushed me.

and you’re still fucking pushing.

and you’ll keep pushing.

bc that is what you do.

embe…..@strawberreli

se sá’m te konne nu’ou.

you like microblogging so much

so like it if you read this shit

#ritten #pisces tw #solar cancer cw #cutting cw #self harm cw

1 note · View note

unifiedsocialblog · 6 years ago

Text

10 Brands that Excel at the Art of the Comeback on Social Media

Engaging with audiences on social media is an important part of any brand’s communications strategy. You want your customers to know that you’re listening to them and that you care about their experiences and opinions.

Most of the time, helpful or positive replies are enough to keep your followers happy and build your audience over time.

Sometimes, however, it pays to take a risk. That means sharing content that could spark controversy, thrust your brand into the spotlight, or draw critical attention.

If you do them right, these tactics can pay off big time helping your brand establish its identity, win new followers, or stay ahead of criticism. But they can also lead to disaster.

How can you make sure your brand avoids disaster? By learning from 10 brands that did it right.

Bonus: Get the step-by-step social media strategy guide with pro tips on how to grow your social media presence.

1. Netflix always has a reply for critics

Does anyone not love Netflix on Twitter? Their social media is so good, it almost makes me forget that they no longer have Buffy the Vampire Slayer available to stream.

Even their pre-Christmas bio, a cheeky acknowledgement of one missing holiday classic, shows how well they know their audience:

That’s the key to their success on social: it’s clear that they share their followers’ passion for TV shows and movies. And they’re not afraid to get defend themselves, like when a follower criticized their description of Gossip Girl:

1. Everybody loves Gossip Girl.

2. Where is the lie tho?

— Netflix US (@netflix) December 11, 2018

They don’t play favorites with their programming either. When one follower questioned their retweet of an unconventional routine by Miss Toto from RuPaul’s Drag Race, they didn’t hesitate to reply.

yes.

— Netflix US (@netflix) December 18, 2018

They’re even ready to stand up for the infamous peach scene in “Call Me By Your Name.” That’s how much they love their movies.

quite the opposite.

— Netflix US (@netflix) January 7, 2019

Many brands try to cultivate a suave, cool voice on social media, but Netflix’s responses show that sometimes it pays off to embrace a weirder, nerdier brand voice. Their genuine enthusiasm for TV and movies allows them to connect with fans and followers, and it also helps to promote their content.

2. Merriam-Webster makes the dictionary cool

It might be hard to believe, but one of the best social media accounts out there is run by… the dictionary.

That’s right — the giant book you only crack open to settle Scrabble arguments. Somehow, Merriam-Webster has built a loyal following of more than 725,000 people by tweeting about definitions and grammar.

How did they do it? By seizing opportunities to inform and educate, with a tone that’s funny and confident, like your best English teacher from high school. Here are some of their most cutting clapbacks.

.@dannygonzalez Why don't you look words up before complaining to the dictionary? https://t.co/2HFnO4Y0aY

— Merriam-Webster (@MerriamWebster) January 17, 2017

People keep 1) saying they don't know what 'genderqueer' means

then

2) asking why we added it to the dictionary pic.twitter.com/wsGZ7Y6XB8

— Merriam-Webster (@MerriamWebster) April 25, 2016

If the dictionary can transform their public reputation from a dull reference material to a vital source of trivia and current events, there’s hope for any “boring” brand!

Take it from Merriam-Webster and look for opportunities to share timely, thoughtful content. Use clear language or emojis to make technical information accessible. And don’t be afraid to let your values show through your posts — you may not win everyone’s approval, but you’ll build loyalty and trust with those who choose to follow you.

Oh, and it never hurts to be funny.

We save all our hardcore, heavy metal content for Thursday afternoons. https://t.co/pTLZNSyNS6

— Merriam-Webster (@MerriamWebster) December 13, 2018

3. Sanofi fixes a PR crisis

Pharmaceutical giant Sanofi experienced every company’s worst nightmare when they were thrust into the center of a PR scandal in May 2018. Actress Roseanne Barr blamed sending several racist tweets on her use of the sleep aid Ambien, which is made by Sanofi.

Rather than trying to dodge the spotlight, the company responded swiftly to her remarks with a strong position of their own:

People of all races, religions and nationalities work at Sanofi every day to improve the lives of people around the world. While all pharmaceutical treatments have side effects, racism is not a known side effect of any Sanofi medication.

— Sanofi US (@SanofiUS) May 30, 2018

Their response went viral and garnered overwhelmingly positive responses. While they could have stayed silent and wait for the next medial scandal to redirect public attention, their decision to respond allowed them to turn a disaster into a win.

Keep hoping that your brand is never associated with a celebrity’s public meltdown, but just in case, it’s important to have a plan in place.

4. MoonPies seizes the mo(on)ment

The August 2017 eclipse was a rare cosmic event, and a lot of companies attempted to ride the coattails of public excitement with stunt advertising campaigns. But few were as perfectly positioned to do so than the aptly-named MoonPies. Rather than pulling together a big campaign of their own, they managed to achieve a massive impact with a single tweet:

Lol ok https://t.co/lobyuNOkee

— MoonPie (@MoonPie) August 21, 2017

It’s always a good idea to take note of upcoming occasions and events that align with your brand (a content calendar can help you there!). These are perfect opportunities to boost your visibility in the public eye and gain new followers.

But MoonPies proves that sometimes there’s value in a less-is-more approach. Rather than competing with rival campaigns, MoonPies broke through the noise with a funny, irreverent message.

5. Adidas owns up to an insensitive email

Is there a more awful feeling than realizing that you just said something really insensitive a moment too late? Adidas knows how you feel.

In April 2017, they sent an email to select customers with the subject line, “Congrats, you survived the Boston Marathon!”

While most would agree that running a marathon is an impressive feat of stamina, their phrasing inadvertently made light of the devastating Boston Marathon bombing in 2013.

My friend received this email from Adidas after the Boston Marathon… I don't know how an advertising team doesn't catch this. pic.twitter.com/Fe16Z4Hnvq

— Robin Dich (@RobinDich) April 18, 2017

Rather than minimizing or ignoring the situation, Adidas swiftly issued an apology.

pic.twitter.com/cdBKixwSqT

— adidas (@adidasUS) April 18, 2017

While publicly apologizing could have drawn even more attention to their faux-pas, Adidas managed to strike the right balance with their message. They didn’t deflect or minimize the impact, and they take responsibility as a company for the mistake.

As proof of public forgiveness, the ratio on their apology tweet is excellent. People on social media are quick to pile on when it comes to a public blunder, but a genuine and thoughtful apology can go a long way to restoring your brand’s good name.

Bonus: Get the step-by-step social media strategy guide with pro tips on how to grow your social media presence.

Get the free guide right now!

6. Wendy’s is the reigning clapback champion

No roundup of social media comebacks would be complete without mention of Wendy’s, which may now be better known for their online sass than their Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers. They even wrote a blog post, patting themselves on the back for their best 2018 Twitter roasts.

Not really afraid of the burgers from a place that decided pancakes were too hard.

— FREEBACONATOR (@Wendys) June 11, 2018

Fast food restaurants are a competitive bunch when it comes to social media sass, but Wendy’s is the undisputed champ, always ready with a witty response.

@Wendys thoughts on @IHOb ?

— Gabe Kapler’s Coconut Oil (@GabeKaplersOil) June 11, 2018

Their strategy can’t work for everyone; Wendy’s has built their online reputation on being snarky, and 2.9 million people follow them for their merciless burns. Before you follow their lead, make sure sarcasm is true to your brand voice.

7. The MERL gains popularity with humor

Why does a small museum about the English countryside have more than 80,000 followers on Twitter? Because unlike other tiny museums about mundane subjects, this one knows how to build a brand using social media!

The MERL (Museum of English Rural Life) first emerged from internet obscurity in April 2018 with a delightful riff on the “absolute unit” meme. Even if you’re not a scholar of internet humor, you can still appreciate the artistry:

look at this absolute unit. pic.twitter.com/LzcQ4x0q38

— The Museum of English Rural Life (@TheMERL) April 9, 2018

Twitter users came for the chubby sheep joke and stayed when they realized this museum (and its collection of old farm photos) was absurdly funny. Suddenly, we were all fans of rural British life.

me at xmas dinner: just a couple roast potatoes please being good this year

me 5 mins later: pic.twitter.com/W93gtEQAh0

— The Museum of English Rural Life (@TheMERL) December 19, 2018

Just as marketers since time immemorial (or, okay, since the early 2000s) have tried to predict what content will go viral, social media managers are always trying to nail the formula for the perfect post.

In part, their tweets work because they’re so unexpected — who would think a museum account could be so weird and hilarious? But also, their content works because it’s unique. They’re drawing inspiration from their own archives and collections, which means their posts aren’t like anything else you’ll find on Twitter.

At the end of the day, social media users care about the quality and originality of content above anything else. If you’re sharing funny, interesting, or visually striking content, you’ll find your audience.

8. KFC proves that honesty is the best policy

In February 2018, KFC turned a PR disaster into a major win when 750 of their restaurants in the UK and Ireland closed suddenly due to a supply issue.

Fried chicken fans were livid. Local authorities even had to remind the public that a fried chicken shortage was not a valid reason to call the police.

How did they fix the fiasco? By taking responsibility, admitting fault, and being transparent about the issue.

In addition to setting up a website where customers could check if restaurants had reopened yet, and taking out some profane print ads to apologize, they also kept their social media followers in the loop.

There's gossip in the hen house, here's the facts… pic.twitter.com/lEuyiOZx2h

— KFC UK & Ireland (@KFC_UKI) February 21, 2018

Good news, over half of our restaurants are now back open! Our teams are working flat out to open the rest. Equilibrium will soon be restored. pic.twitter.com/ZXgijpBR7L

— KFC UK & Ireland (@KFC_UKI) February 20, 2018

As the head of brand engagement Jenny Packham said, KFC decided to “remain true to its brand voice” and apologize to customers, rather than hide behind a formal statement or point fingers at the supplier.

As a result, their fans and customers felt like there were real people trying to fix the problem, not just a faceless company trying to minimize a major problem.

9. Patagonia defends their environmental values

Outdoor retailer Patagonia is well-known for their corporate values around sustainability. And they’re willing to defend their reputation as environmental stewards when customers question their commitment:

Considering they are printed on 100% recycled paper with non-toxic ink, we do think that it's worth it to share our stories and photos with our customers. If you'd like to be removed please send your name, address, and customer number to [email protected]

— Patagonia (@patagonia) November 30, 2018

We didn't have a Black Friday sale as it promotes buying more which promotes more waste.

— Patagonia (@patagonia) November 30, 2018

But they brought new attention to their cause when CEO Rose Marcario announced on LinkedIn that the company was donating their $10 million tax cut—the result of changes to corporate tax rates administered by the Trump administration—to environmental causes. While many companies avoid wading into political territory, Patagonia took direct aim at Donald Trump with this comeback, calling the corporate tax cut “irresponsible.”

The tax cut is a contentious political issue, and their bold response did generate some criticism. But it ultimately drew a huge amount of positive attention to their company and practices, and reinforced their brand values.

Customers increasingly consider company values when choosing between brands. If you want to set yourself apart from your competitors, making it clear what your company stands for can be a smart strategy.

10. KLM improves the traveler experience

Airlines have it rough on social media. By my unscientific estimate, ninety-nine per cent of all messages they receive are from disgruntled passengers who are mad about flight delays, lost luggage, and disappointing mid-flight snacks. They’re a hard bunch to appease, but Dutch airline KLM does it better than anyone else.

In 2014, they launched a campaign to encourage customers to reach out on social media if they had lost items during transit. It kicked off with an adorable video featuring a dog named Sherlock returning forgotten possessions to happy travelers, which racked up over 24 million views.

Unfortunately, Sherlock isn’t actually checking flights for your forgotten headphones, but KLM flight attendants are. And customers still regularly contact KLM for assistance.

Big thanks to @KLM and the wonderful lost+found crew who found my #amazon #kindle and returned to me before flight today pic.twitter.com/uMvipnsHeW

— Andrew Lombardi (@kinabalu) October 17, 2017

Me: I’ll just leave my laptop in the seat pocket in front and have a quick nap before we land. ????

Also me: OMG I LEFT MY LAPTOP ON THAT PLANE ????

Fortunately, @KLM’s lost & found team & @Schiphol airport retrieved my trusty mobile office in under 20 minutes. ????

Thanks guys! ????

— Luc Dockendorf (@LucDockendorf) June 12, 2018

Promoting this option to customers has two benefits for the airline: it generates positive stories about returned items, and demonstrates their commitment to customer service.

Hello Nick, we would like to request our KLM Lost & Found Team to start a search for your lost item. Please send a Direct Message for this. Thank you!

— Royal Dutch Airlines (@KLM) September 10, 2018

It also clarifies how their social media team can assist customers. People often tweet at brands asking for help with problems that can’t be addressed in a tweet or a Facebook message, leaving the customer angry and unsatisfied with their unresolved issue. By telling people what their social media team can do, KLM has set themselves up for success.

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