Butterflytaeil - Waffle Penguin

“Almost every woman I have ever met has a secret belief that she is just on the edge of madness, that there is some deep, crazy part within her, that she must be on guard constantly against ‘losing control’ — of her temper, of her appetite, of her sexuality, of her feelings, of her ambition, of her secret fantasies, of her mind.”

― Elana Dykewomon, Sinister Wisdom 36: Surviving Psychiatric Assault & Creating Emotional Well-Being in Our Communities

[20:58] – huang renjun

you were sitting in his lap, with your head hidden in the crook of his neck and bodies merged. He was wearing a cream coloured sweater, your sweater.

moments before sleep had threatened to take over you, he lifted your head from his neck. The almost drunk-like you thought he was about to kiss you, so you leaned into a soft, sleepy kiss, but he firmly pulled away and took off the soft woolen sweater and gave it to you.

"it doesn't smell like you anymore", he informs you and points at the sweater you are wearing now.

"give this one to me, and I'll return you the one I'm wearing" he said with curious eyes and a question-like tone.

You quickly took off your sweater too, with the help of renjun when you had problems with the neck-hole of it. He cutely laughed at your tired expression. After you successfully take it off, he puts the new one on you, and your previous one on himself.

"it smells like you now" you said while lifting the shirt to your nose.

"and this one smells like you", he playfully said with a big grin on his face.

He places his hand at the nape of your neck and gently settles your head in his neck again, lulling you back to sleep.

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My mental state is: If you give me a long hug I might start crying.

m crying in the corner rn

[10:34 a.m] People would call her Y/N. Jaemin calls her Love.

Love had the most beautiful eyes, always shimmering like someone spilled golden glitter in them. Love's cheeks were always inviting, and don't even get him started on Love's lips — they were their own shade of rose and they were curled up in a smile, his favorite smile— Love was laughing at him.

"What the hell is this?" You giggled, holding his 'gift' in your palm, your other hand setting down your iced drink.

He pouts, "It's a rock."

"Is this your way of telling me that I am dense, or are you asking me for permission to try and crack this open on my head like an egg?"

Love was funny. Love always jokes here and there, making sure that it's at the worst timing ever.

"It's not just a rock, it's a pretty rock! Plus, look at those weird curves, doesn't it look like our initials? Look, this one looks like a star—!" He was cut off from his rambling.

Why had he been so much of a fool? You were beautiful. You were a wonder of a person, a goddess of a girl. You deserved more than palaces of promises and golden kisses; you deserved galaxies and diamonds and he wonders if he could still call you 'Love'.

Love makes Jaemin feel a mixture of 'I'm glad you're mine' and 'Why did you choose me?' and it didn't make sense.

Jaemin was confident, so casual that he comes off as flirty. And maybe he was flirty. But alas, Love, no matter how confident he was, makes him feel inferior. Who knows why or how, or if that was what it was at all.

There was a cold press against his lips, and a hint of your favorite drink left alongside a little stain of your flavored lip balm. His entire face flushes red and he realizes that it couldn't be helped.

It was just the truth of all fates. Fire loves paper to the point where it smothers it with warmth to the point of nothingness, the lady who lives across was widowed and childless having forgotten most of her early years but could recall her first love at just the sight of daffodils, and Jaemin was only one of the sunflowers who looked up to the Sun that is named Y/N —

"Thank you, Jaemin, love," you whisper, pressing a kiss on his forehead and whispering 'just an extra for always being so thoughtful'.

— and Jaemin was the only one Sunflower the Sun would care for like this.

The Sun he calls Love.

He smiles, wordlessly kissing you back.

Other people would call him Jaemin — the Sun calls him Love in return.

[11:09 PM] The apartment door swung open as Donghyuck stepped inside with his arms full of bags. You started to get up to help, but he made this noise that was between a strangled yelp and a full-on screech. He waddled his way to the kitchen before dropping all the bags on the counter, and then he ran back to close and lock the door.

“I could’ve helped,” you commented.

“You still can. C’mon, I can’t put it all away by myself,” he replied with a grin.

Groaning, you got off the couch and shuffled over. Donghyuck had a system in the kitchen (even though you’re the one that did most of the cooking) and would whine every time you put something in the wrong place. The only problem was that he would change the system every few weeks without telling you. You’d since given up trying to get him to stick with one and just deal with the surprise of your ingredients missing.

“No, that goes in the cabinet closest to the hallway now,” Donghyuck said when you moved in the opposite direction.

Biting your tongue, you followed his direction and put it in the only empty spot. The next item in the bag stopped you in your tracks. It was one of your favorite snacks, and Donghyuck couldn’t stand them. He thought they were disgusting, but you loved them. When you found the box that you already owned, it felt like it should be replaced soon.

“Did you buy these?” you asked, fully knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Donghyuck gave you a weird look. “They’re in the bag, aren’t they?” He turned back to the fridge that he was currently stocking. “I moved them the other day and felt that the box was light, so I picked up another one today.”

Your heart felt so full. You stepped forward and pushed him against the counter before kissing him deeply. He made a noise of surprise before reciprocating. When you pulled away, there was a dazed, confused look on his face.

“Not that I didn’t enjoy that thoroughly, but what was that for?” he asked.

“For buying my favorite snack,” you told him.

“Really? All I did was buy some more.”

“Yeah, but you thought to pick it up even though you don’t eat it. It means a lot when you do stuff like that,” you tried to explain.

“What, buy you food?”

You shook your head with a smile. “No, when you notice I need something, or when you look at something at the store and buy it because you remember I like it. Like, you buy it without me asking for you to grab it for me.”

Donghyuck smiled. “I’m glad I can bring you that little bit of joy. “

“Me too.”

gimme gimme!

pairings. haechan x (f) reader

genre. FLUFF! established relationship

warnings. implications to sex towards the end, haechan being so fucking >_< in this one (do y’all understand??)

note. again,, inspired by this tiktok SOMEONE HELP ME FROM MY IMAGINATION AND THOUGHTS BC THIS W HAECHAN ????

—

haechan is home with you, but not really for a good reason. he’s exempt from his schedules due to health reasons so he’s instructed to stay home and get some well needed rest. but you’re glad that he’s with you and under your watch.

both of you are on your couch, your back against the arm rest and your legs thrown over haechan’s lap as he’s watching a youtube video on the tv. his arm is slung behind you resting on the couch as his other arm is resting on your thighs, occasionally giving your thigh a squeeze with his hand. you’re on your tablet reading a book you’ve been excited to read that a friend had recommended to you.

this is what your days have consisted of, just you two in your apartment. either glued on the couch snuggled together or talking about anything in your kitchen and laughing or in your bed getting lost in each others warmth. of course, you do leave the house in the morning for classes and come back before dinner, haechan awaiting upon your arrival at the entrance of your front door with open arms and his bright smile.

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the urge to be hugged for 4 hrs

“Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry.”

yoongi x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.6K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.

Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.

Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.

He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.

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HOW YOU LOVE | myg

⇢ pairing: min yoongi x reader

⇢ genre: fluff, established relationship

⇢ summary: watching the rain outside from a cosy armchair within the warm arms of the love of your life. also there’s hot chocolate.

⇢ word count: approx. 450

⇢ warnings: uhhh mentions of cloud piss, gender neutral reader and just lots of fluff <3

⇢ a/n: it’s so nice to be writing again :D

"it's raining." you inform yoongi, without turning around, when you hear him enter the living room. you are curled up in an armchair, blankets cuddled close to you, cupping a mug of hot chocolate in your sweater paws, contemplating the world outside through the crystalline glass of the wide window.

"so it is," yoongi agrees, but when you turn to him, he's not following your gaze out the window. he's looking at you. gentle smile, wordless love. 

you return it, brightening slightly when he seats himself next to you on the armchair, and you lift the blanket to welcome him into your little world.

he likes to watch you watch things. he loves the way your brows furrow in the middle of a thought, the way your eyes twinkle when you think of something that amuses you, the way you sigh and shake off thoughts that run too deep into the past. all he ever wants is to know you, entirely and completely. to read you like one of those books you adore so much, open your wonderful mind and see it all. maybe leave room for himself there too, just as you scribble notes in the margins of your paperbacks.

and just like always, he asks —

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours today, sweetheart?" soft words as he slips an arm around you, guides your head to its rightful place on his chest while setting down your empty mug.

"look." you giggle already, knowing he'll find your thoughts amusing. "the world," you gesture grandly towards the wide expanse of window, "is getting hydrated."

he scoffs, shakes his head in fond exasperation. 

"or, or," you put in alternatively. "the clouds are crying."

his nose scrunches. "now that one's just sad."

"so are the clouds," you retort cheekily. 

"maybe they're just taking a piss," he suggests, and it's your turn to scrunch your nose up.

"that is rank!"

he shrugs, plants a kiss to the top of your head, idly draws patterns on your exposed skin. you sign contentedly, body melting into him. 

oh, how you love the rain. love the unspoken agreement that dictates the two of you must come to the armchair and cuddle, must hold each other close like this. how you love yoongi's fingers combing gently through your hair, teasing knots out. how you love curling up against his chest, his arm warm and safe around you. how you love, how you love, how you love.

"i love the rain." you keep your proclamation simple, despite the tumult of words running through your brain. he knows. you know he knows.

("you say that now," he warns in return. "wait 'til you find out i'm right and it's been cloud piss all along.")

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© taegisms 2022 | all rights reserved // do not plagiarise my work.

i cried...i hate this...😭😭😭😭😭😭

“You may want me, but you need you.”

seokjin x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 1.7K

a/n: This drabble includes talks of therapy and anxiety so possible trigger warning. In this, Poopsie is just kind of realizing her struggles with her insecurities and how she projects it onto Jin. And as always, Jin is an absolute sweetheart. Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoy! :))

YOU were doing it again. You knew you were. Jin was just busy, his job was stressful at the moment. They were preparing for a fucking comeback, for godsake, it wasn’t about you.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from sending the text.

You: Can we talk when you get here? If you’re even still coming over.

It wasn’t volatile or aggressive, but you knew he’d read it and know that you were upset, and therefore you’d receive his attention, and that’s all you wanted. Well, that’s what you thought you wanted.

Waiting for the response was the worst, because you couldn’t take your text back. Your emotions were high when you sent it and you knew it was a destructive thing to do, but it felt like the physical illness from the anxiousness sitting in your stomach wouldn’t ease until you hit send.

It had been fifteen minutes since you sent the message, and Jin hadn’t even opened it. God, you were acting like a fucking lunatic, checking the conversation repeatedly to see if he had read it yet.

Trying to distract yourself, you grabbed the drawing pad Jungkook left at your apartment from a few days ago, sifting through the sketches to find a blank page. The kid could draw, you thought as you appreciated his work.

Landing on a blank page, you picked up the pencil from the coffee table and began dragging it across the page. You were not an artist, you just needed the mental break that watching the graphite appear on the white page provided.

Half way through your child-like drawing, your apartment door opened, a very tired Jin stepping inside with his bag thrown over his shoulder. Kicking his shoes off, he lifted his gaze to find you staring at him from the floor in front of the couch.

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