Peter Solarz
KIROKAZE
tumblr dot com
@theartofmadeline
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blake kathryn
Xuebing Du
cherry valley forever
Mike Driver
RMH
PR's Tumblrdome
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Sade Olutola
pixel skylines
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
Product Placement
hello vonnie
trying on a metaphor
Misplaced Lens Cap
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Egypt
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Germany
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seen from Türkiye
@skeletonontheroad
hey so im in the invincible fandom. and a predator decided to kinda put themselves on full blast. tagging wtv fandom tags i can think of to put it on full blast, please reblog
update from @voltnboltn : she uses ai. i was advised by this lovely user to check the pedos pfp and yeah, thats fucking ai.
if we weren’t all cowards we could make damian and ra’s have a rick and morty style relationship. im just saying. we could. we could have ra’s drunkenly breaking into the manor to grab damian by the ankle and drag him out to his league private jet to go on some bullshit league side quest. we could have bruce and dick watching them go scared that damian’s being attacked while damian just grabs his pillow and brings it with him as he gets dragged down the hall, cursing ra’s out for every step while not doing anything to stop him. we could. we could totally do that right.
damian gets dropped off two days later covered in blue glowing gloop, tired as fuck and annoyed about it, and when interrogated about what went on during his alleged kidnapping he just yawns and goes ‘he wanted to fight the fucking loch ness monster’ and refuses to elaborate.
You've gotta be fucking kidding me...
they’d be unstoppable
Evil gun batman tim drake mad about being voted off the polycule. Hit post.
Evil gun batman tim drake mad about being voted off the polycule. Hit post.
THE PIERCINGS
FELIX IS TAKING LEGAL ACTION AGAINST USERS WHO CONSISTENTLY POST FALSE ACCUSATIONS ON SOCIAL NETWORK SERVICES
ARRRGGH, i’m SOOO proud of my too aussies!!!
LOWKEY ATE PERO WHAT A RANDOMMTHING TO WAKE UP TO 😭😭😭
if you tell me when SKZ are bare face that they’re ugly, we’re not talking anymore
How can you be negative towards BEAUTY
˖°.ೃ࿔*:･˖°.ೃ࿔*:･˖°.ೃ࿔*: ˖°.ೃ࿔*:･
Led Zeppelin’s first ever gig in Copenhagen, September 7, 1968, Gladsaxe Teen club
what if i cry
──────────୨ৎ──────────
MATCH UP: Stray Kids w/@firstdivisiongirl
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They invented sex
Adding to the ask I just sent, I think it'd be nice if you wrote about those backgrounds you mentioned, but separately, if that makes sense??
Like, you put it in the warnings that, in that fic, Honey has a good relationship with her parents. But, in some other fic, if you ever write one, you could make it so she doesn't get along with her family at all.
In a fic, Princess could be Korean, but in another, she could be a foreigner.
Like, different paths, you know? I don't know if this makes sense, sorry for my bad English!!
Hi, Hello. 👋
Hi again.
No that does make sense. Don't worry, your English is fine. 👌👍
I could make a little section for their background stories? That way people can pick a choice if they want to read that kinda stuff.
I think I'll make this into a poll and see what people think. I would also help me for when I eventually do more fics but for the other members too. 💕
Thank you for sending this in.
Do you want Mama Bear and Princess to have backstories? should they stay as reader inserts or be ocs?
Yes, I'd keep reading if they turned into ocs.
No, I want them to stay as reader inserts.
Only do background stuff when they are asked for, put them in their own section.
i change my vote i think they shoudl be readers inly
“ Nothing “
𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ Hyunjin x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship. 𝓰enre/extreme fluff, domestic softness, tooth-rotting sweetness, No real plot. (These are fun)
[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — another not so common fluff fic for the timeline! Having a lazy weekend doing nothing sounds amazing right about now! This fic is sponsored by Anon! Let me know what u think! <3
✨event master list ✨
The dorm was quiet in a way that didn’t happen often.
The kind of quiet where you could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of the A/C turning on. Most weekends were filled with footsteps, laughter, the sound of video games or music playing from different rooms. But not this one.
The others had all left in different directions, visiting family, or camping adventures. Hyunjin had been invited to join a few times. He’d declined every single one.
“Let’s just… not do anything,” he’d told you on Friday night, his voice muffled as he pulled his hoodie over his head. “No schedules. No going anywhere. Just… here.”
You’d smiled at him over the kitchen counter. “Not doing anything with you sounds great.”
Saturday morning came in soft and slow, sunlight spilling across the floor in pale streaks.
You were the first one up, padding into the kitchen in your socks to make coffee. The air smelled like freshly ground beans by the time Hyunjin appeared, hair sticking up wildly in every direction. His eyes were barely open as you slid a mug toward him.
He sat at the table in his baggiest black tee and plaid pants, sipping quietly while you leaned against the counter. No rush. No need for conversation just yet.
By midday, you were sprawled on the couch, scrolling idly on your phone when Hyunjin reappeared from his room holding two sheet masks.
“Pick one,” he said, holding them up like a card trick.
You pointed to the one with strawberries on the packaging. “This one.”
“That’s mine,” he deadpanned, before breaking into a grin.
You both ended up wearing the masks, your laughter echoing in the bathroom when his clay mask cracked across his cheeks as he tried not to smile.
Afterward, he insisted on painting your nails, not only because he was particularly good at it, but because he liked the excuse to also hold your hands. You retaliated by painting his nails a pastel blue, the two of you hunched over the coffee table with your tongues poking out in concentration.
“You’re terrible at this,” he muttered as you wobbled with the brush.
“And yet,” you said, blowing on your handiwork, “I am an artiste.”
By evening, you were tucked into a blanket fort in the living room. The fairy lights draped across the top glowed softly, casting the space in gold. Hyunjin had insisted on making it “architecturally sound,” which really just meant it was held together with couch cushions and a prayer.
You lay side by side, scrolling through food delivery apps.
“Tteokbokki,” he suggested.
“Fried chicken,” you countered.
“Both?” he said after a moment, like it was the most reasonable compromise in the world.
The food arrived an hour later, and you ate in the fort, passing bites back and forth until you were both too full to move. Somewhere between finishing the chicken and starting a second episode of the drama you’d been watching, you fell asleep in his arms, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you deeper into rest.
Sunday morning came with the steady patter of rain.
Hyunjin was already on the couch when you woke up, wrapped in a blanket like a human burrito. He opened his arms for you to crawl in, and eventually you ended up with his head in your lap, your fingers idly combing through the short black strands of his hair.
The world felt muted, just the rain against the windows, the occasional sigh as he drifted in and out of sleep. Every time his breathing evened out, you thought he’d gone under completely, only for him to murmur something soft you couldn’t quite catch.
Later, you migrated to his bedroom.
He set up his easel by the window, pulling out paints while you claimed your usual spot on his bed with your book. Time passed in that comfortable way it does when you don’t need to fill it. The sound of his brush against canvas became the background to your page-turning.
Every so often, you’d glance up to find him looking at you, not saying anything, just smiling a little before turning back to his work.
That night, the rain hadn’t stopped. You slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him, padding into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The apartment was dim, lit only by the muted glow of the streetlights outside.
You’d just grabbed the bottle when you felt his arms sliding around your waist from behind, pulling you back into his chest.
Neither of you said anything.
His cheek rested against the top of your head, his breathing slow and even, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the crisp smell of rain drifting through a cracked window. You let your free hand settle over his, feeling the warmth radiating from him.
For a while, you just stood like that, gently swaying to a rhythm that didn’t need music.
Then, with a quiet motion, Hyunjin turned you around in his arms. His hands found the small of your back, drawing you close until your forehead rested against his collarbone. You dipped your head, closing your eyes listening to the soft beating of his heart, as you moved together in slow, unhurried steps.
not really dancing, just letting your bodies stay connected, swaying in the stillness of the kitchen. The world could have stopped right there and you wouldn’t have minded.
With you both back under the covers, his arm snug around your waist as he held you from behind, Hyunjin murmured into the dark, “This was the best weekend.”
You smiled against the pillow. “We didn’t even do anything.”
“Exactly,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Nothing is my favorite when it’s with you.”
And you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other.
Tag list:
@vernorica123 @quaxing-lour @staytinyarmy @elisabeeee @stronglychanbiased @loz3389 @kittykatz1227 @jenzlovschan @mysticpolicedonut @roron33 @socandytales @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dungeonduchess @thereadinglurker @harmonygal @thackery-blinks @ghostly-xxo @enhacolor @sailorkoss @skeletonontheroad @felixlsworld @the3catlovers @leeknowz-pudding @sibulamoos @d1gital-data @peartreegarden @lyftyyy @mehrmonga @yoli123-8 @finding-nikaa @euphysia @whoa-jo @dragon03138 @wanderingrusalka @cardtak @16lotonhermind @mypnwlife-blog @kwanniehae @awesome-oana1234 @lyuuu88 @ridhi1608 @coraleexox @xox-chy @ellie1725 @estella-novella @gnabcc @piscesrising01 @meelbarnes @eternalwooyoung @beal-o
GUYS MY REQUEST WENT THROUGH
“Still Hurts”
𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ Maknae Line x Female!reader ˒˓ established relationship. 𝓰enre/ angst, hurt-some comfort (not all), they lose their cool and say your presence is too much, so you give them what they asked for, space. (a.k.a the classic they call you clingy trope).
[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — here’s the final part to the Maknae line part of the series, some healing but mostly angst! Let me know what u think! <3
Part 1
Hyung line
Han
You hadn’t expected silence to feel this loud.
The first day after the fight, you cried until your body gave out. The second, you stared blankly at your phone, watching Jisung’s name light up the screen.
texts and missed calls piling one on top of the other. By the third, the notifications slowed, and now… nothing.
You should’ve felt peace. You told him you needed space. But it’s hard to feel peace when you’re constantly checking your phone, and half-expecting to see him standing outside your apartment, hoodie up and heart in his hands.
He doesn’t show.
Not until tonight.
You’re tired; mentally, emotionally, all of it. Your bag is slung over one shoulder, takeout in your hands as you fumble for your keys. You unlock the door and step inside, already dreaming of a hot bath and quiet solitude.
Then you freeze.
There’s a figure on your couch.
Your brain can’t process it fast enough. You gasp, nearly dropping the food. “What the hell—?!”
The figure stands, startled. “Hey—hey! It’s just me!”
Your brain reels at the man standing in your living room.
Han Jisung.
Your chest caves with the shock. “Are you insane? What are you doing in here?”
He lifts both hands, guilty. “I—You weren’t answering. I didn’t know what else to do. I used the spare key you gave me a while back.”
“You mean the one I gave you before you told me I was clingy and annoying?” you snap, slamming the door shut behind you. “You used that key?”
He flinches. “I know I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I just… I needed to see you.”
You stare at him, disbelieving.
He takes a step closer. You step back.
“Don’t,” you warn.
“Okay,” he says quickly, staying put. “I just want to talk. Please.”
You take a slow breath, trying to stop your heart from racing. “You don’t get to break me down and then break into my apartment like nothing happened, Jisung.”
“I didn’t break in—”
You shoot him a look.
He shuts up.
A heavy silence falls.
Finally, he speaks, quieter this time. “I’m sorry. For what I said. For how I said it. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
You scoff. “No, you shouldn’t have.”
“I was tired—”
“I don’t care.”
That hit a nerve. You see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way he lowers his eyes. Good. Let it sting.
You cross your arms, the ache in your chest bubbling to the surface again. “Do you know how hurtful that was? How small I felt? I came to see you because I missed you, because I was worried. And you looked at me like I was a problem, not someone you loved.”
He runs a hand through his hair, guilt soaking every movement. “I know. I messed up. I was frustrated and overwhelmed and I said things I didn’t mean.”
You blink hard. “But you did mean them. You didn’t take it back. You let me cry and leave and you didn’t come after me.”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
“You hurt me.”
“I know.” His voice cracks. “I’m sorry.”
You look away, the familiar sting returning to your eyes. God, how many times have you cried over him this week?
He steps forward again, tentative. “Can I… can we sit?”
You nod reluctantly, and you both take a seat on opposite ends of the couch.
He studies his hands. “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days. About how I handled things. About you. About us.”
You wait.
“I hate that I made you feel like a burden. You’re not. You never were.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I was just drowning. Comeback prep has been brutal. I haven’t been sleeping. I haven’t been eating. I felt like I was spiraling and when you showed up, it was like… everything hit me at once.”
“So you took it out on me.”
He winces. “Yeah.”
You sigh. “Do you even understand how that makes me feel? Like I’m just something you tolerate when everything’s good. And the second it’s not, when you’re stressed or tired or under pressure. I—I become this... thing you need to push away.”
“I don’t want you to feel like that.”
“But I do.”
The truth hits the room like thunder. He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance.
“Is this how it’s always going to be?” you ask, voice shaking. “Every time there’s a comeback, you’re going to yell at me? Push me away? Say horrible things and then come crawling back once you realize you messed up?”
He doesn’t answer.
His silence says enough.
Your chest tightens. “That’s not love, Jisung.”
His head snaps up. “I do love you.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m the only one trying to protect this relationship?” you whisper.
His eyes are glassy now. “You’re not. I swear, you’re not. I’m trying. I just—” he breaks off, breathing hard. “I don’t know how to do this when I feel like I’m barely holding myself together.”
You nod slowly. “Then maybe you should figure that out before you try to love someone else.”
Silence.
He blinks, stunned. “So… what, that’s it?”
“No,” you say, voice gentler now. “I’m not saying we’re over. But I’m saying I need to see some kind of change. I need to believe that the next time things get hard, you won’t take it out on me.”
His voice is small. “And if I can’t promise that?”
You smile sadly. “Then maybe I’ll stop showing up, too.”
The words land like a punch. He slumps back against the couch, defeated.
“I’ll give you back your key,” he says quietly.
You nod. “Yeah. You should.”
Another silence stretches between you. This one is sadder. Heavier.
Eventually, he stands. You walk him to the door, but there’s no hug. No kiss. Just a tired look between two people who used to feel a lot more certain about each other.
He hesitates before leaving. “I’ll fix this,” he whispers.
You don’t reply.
You just close the door.
And lock it behind him.
Felix
It had been four days since the studio incident.
Four days since your face burned with shame in front of the entire group.
Four days since Felix accused you of being clingy, of “smothering” him, like your presence, your care, was something to be embarrassed by.
He tried reaching out almost immediately after you left. A rushed voice note. A stream of apologetic texts. Two missed calls. Then three. Then six.
You didn’t answer.
Because if you did, he’d hear your voice shake. He’d hear how close you were to breaking. And he didn’t deserve that, not after everything.
You weren’t going to make this easier for him.
So you ignored him. Every day. Every message. Every knock on your door.
Because he could apologize when it was convenient for him, but you were the one who had to live with the echo of his voice, cutting through the silence like a blade, surrounded by his members, surrounded by witnesses to your humiliation.
That doesn’t go away overnight.
So when he finally catches you outside your apartment building. hood up, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, you almost walk right past him.
“Hey—wait.”
Your hand freezes on the door handle.
You turn, slowly, arms crossed over your chest. “What are you doing here, Felix?”
He exhales in visible relief, like just hearing you say his name is a win. “I’ve been trying to talk to you.”
“I know.” Your voice is flat. “I’ve been ignoring you.”
“I noticed.”
You raise a brow. “Then maybe you should’ve taken the hint.”
He winces but doesn’t move. “I deserve that.”
You don’t say anything.
“Can we talk?” he asks, eyes tired. “Please?”
You stare at him. Same boyish face, same tired freckles, same soft eyes that made you feel like home once. But not now. Now, they just remind you how quickly someone can weaponize what you give them.
You sigh. “Say what you need to say.”
He nods, shoulders sinking as he leans against the brick wall near the entrance. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was overwhelmed, and I let everything boil over.”
You narrow your eyes. “So you exploded at me.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”
“It still hurt.”
“I know,” he says, quietly. “It’s been eating me alive since.”
You cross your arms tighter. “Why’d you say it then? Why act like I was some annoying groupie who didn’t know her place? Why make me feel so… disposable?”
His face contorts with regret. “I didn’t mean any of it. I was running on no sleep, the comeback is killing me, Chan’s been on edge, and I knew he needed that flash drive and I left it at your place and—”
“So that was my fault?” you cut in. “Because you forgot something, that made it okay to tear me down in front of everyone?”
“No! God, no. I just—I lost it. It had nothing to do with you.”
You tilt your head. “Then why did you take it out on me, Felix?”
He looks away.
You step forward, voice rising. “Why did you say those things? Why did you let me stand there while everyone stared and made me feel like I was nothing?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers, tears beginning to form. “I panicked. I snapped. I took it out on you because you were there and I was spiraling and—”
“And you expect me to just… get over it?”
His eyes lock with yours. “No. I don’t expect anything. But I need you. I miss you. I’ve been trying to say I’m sorry for days now and I—I could really use your support right now.”
You blink, stunned.
You actually laugh. Not because it’s funny. But because it’s unbelievable.
“You could use my support?” you repeat. “After all that?”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“No, that’s exactly what you meant. You want my attention when it’s convenient. When you’re stressed and burnt out, then you need me. But if I show up at the wrong moment, bring you something you needed, trying to help you, humiliate me?”
Tears slip down his cheeks. “That’s not true—”
“It is,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to pick and choose when I matter. You don’t get to use me like a crutch when things get hard and toss me aside when everything is ‘too much.’”
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
You shake your head, voice trembling now. “You know how much I’ve tried to be there for you. And yet the one time I show up without being asked, you act like I crossed some invisible line. Like I embarrassed you.”
His voice breaks. “I was scared.”
“Of what? That your members would see you love someone?”
“No—” he stammers, hands clenched into fists, “I was scared because I was already failing. I was messing everything up, and then I saw you, and it felt like I was dragging you down too.”
You shake your head again.
He steps forward again, slow, like approaching a wounded animal. “I just want to fix this.”
You take a shaky breath. “Some things don’t get fixed overnight, Felix.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
You hesitate. Your heart’s torn. But your pride, that little scrap of dignity you’re still clinging to, is louder.
“Then start by leaving me alone,” you whisper.
He stiffens. “What?”
“Give me time. Space.” You pause, voice cracking. “You don’t get to demand forgiveness. You don’t get to act like my heart has a switch you can just flip on and off depending on your stress level.”
The air between you turns cold.
Felix’s hands drop to his sides.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he says softly.
“Neither did I.”
He nods once, slowly. “I’ll wait.”
You look at him, really look at him. The boy you love. The boy who shattered you.
You take a step back, letting the silence settle between you.
You turn without another word, unlocking the door and stepping inside, leaving him alone in the fading evening light.
Seungmin
It’s been five days since Seungmin told you he didn’t need you there.
Five days since he walked out of the booth, drenched in frustration, and looked straight through you like you were an obstacle rather than his girlfriend. Five days since he scoffed, loud and sharp, and asked “Do you seriously need to be here right now?”
With Chan standing right there.
And when you quietly excused yourself, blinking back the sting in your eyes, he didn’t follow.
Didn’t text.
Didn’t call.
He tried once, the day after. A single message:
“I didn’t mean to snap at you. Things are just… a lot. I’m sorry.”
But that didn’t fix anything. Not when you’d felt so humiliated. So small. Like your presence, the thing that used to comfort him, had somehow turned into a nuisance.
So you said nothing back. You needed time to think. To ask yourself if loving someone who only wanted you around when it was easy was love at all.
It’s late when you climb the stairs to your apartment, arms full of groceries, keys tucked between your fingers, only to stop short at the top landing.
There he sat.
Leaning against the wall beside your door.
Hood pulled over his head. Shoulders shaking. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, and his face…
Your heart lurches.
His face is soaked in tears.
Real ones. The kind that break past your pride. The kind that make your voice catch in your throat because it’s him. Your Seungmin. The boy who rarely cried. The boy who made you cry.
You step forward, slowly. “Seungmin?”
He jerks slightly at the sound of your voice, eyes meeting yours, red, swollen, glassy. “I—I”
He stumbles forward a step. “I-I’m sorry—” His voice breaks immediately, like he’s been holding it together for too long and the dam just burst. “I shouldn’t have said that to you—God, I was so stressed and tired and frustrated, but that didn’t give me the right to take it out on you. Not in front of Chan. Not ever. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t belong—please—please just—”
“Shh,” you whisper, setting your grocery bag down as you reach for him. “Come inside.”
He hesitates, like he’s not sure he deserves that yet.
But you open the door, and he follows you in without a word.
You don’t turn on the overhead lights, just the warm little lamp by the window, and sit on the edge of the couch, motioning for him to sit beside you. He does, slowly, wiping at his face with the back of his hand, only for fresh tears to fall.
For a moment, you both sit in silence.
Then you speak.
“I want to believe you didn’t mean it.”
He turns his head toward you, swallowing hard.
“But you said it,” you continue, voice calm but steady. “And it hurt. A lot.”
“I know,” he whispers. “I hate that I made you feel that way.”
“You embarrassed me in front of someone you respect, someone who respects you. I sat there just trying to be present, and you made me feel like I was in the way. Like I was nothing but a distraction.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head.
“I’m not done.”
He nods quickly and lets you finish.
“I love you, Seungmin. And I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. But that doesn’t give you permission to treat me like that the second you’re under fire.”
“I know,” he says again, his voice shaking now. “You’re right. I keep thinking about that moment and how your face changed. How I made you feel like you weren’t wanted. That’s the furthest thing from the truth. I was scared, frustrated, and I lashed out. I never wanted to push you away like that.”
“But you did,” you remind him softly.
He nods, another tear slipping free. “I know.”
You take a breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About us. About what I need to feel safe in this relationship.”
He turns fully toward you now, hands clasped tightly in his lap like he’s preparing for the worst.
“I’m not walking away,” you say, and his breath hitches.
“But I’m not pretending this didn’t happen, either. You broke something when you talked to me like that. Something you can’t fix with a simple apology. And if we’re going to move forward, you’re going to have to help rebuild that trust. Every day. Not just when it’s easy. Not just when we’re laughing or cuddling or saying ‘I love you.’ Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s hard.”
His eyes fill again, but this time the tears don’t fall. “I will,” he says, almost breathless. “I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn that back. You’re not a distraction. You’re everything. I’ve just been so caught up trying to prove I can handle everything, I forgot the one person I don’t have to prove anything to is you.”
You blink quickly to keep your own tears from falling. “It can’t be like this every comeback, Seungmin.”
“I know.” He moves closer, barely brushing your hand with his. “You shouldn’t have to protect your heart from me.”
You finally let out a soft sigh, nodding.
“Then let’s try again,” you whisper.
He exhales like the weight of the world has been lifted.
“Slowly.” you add. “You hurt me, Min. You have to understand that it won’t go back to normal overnight.”
“I understand,” he murmurs. “Whatever pace you need. I’ll be here.”
You lean into the back of the couch, finally letting your eyes close.
For the first time in days, your chest doesn’t feel so heavy.
but at least now, he’s meeting you where you are.
And this time, he’s not walking away.
Jeongin
It’s been three days since Jeongin told you that you were exhausting.
Three days since you stood frozen in the middle of the room, eyes stinging, while he barely looked at you. His voice sharp and tired as he said he was too drained to deal with your clinginess. That he couldn’t handle you right now.
Three days since he made you feel like a burden for simply showing up to love him.
You haven’t spoken to him since. Not because you’re playing a game, but because you’re afraid.
Afraid that if you say something, the walls will come crashing down completely.
But now, here he is, standing in your apartment after texting that he was “coming over to talk.” His arms are crossed, his expression unreadable. His tone is casual, like nothing has happened. Like this is just a minor misunderstanding.
“You’ve really been ignoring me over that?” he asks, incredulous.
You stare at him for a long moment. “Are you serious right now?”
His brows furrow. “ I was having a bad day. You know how comeback prep is. I was tired, overwhelmed, I just snapped. You’ve snapped at me before too.”
“Not like that,” you say quietly.
He rolls his eyes. “Come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“But you said it.” Your voice rises just slightly. “You said I was exhausting. That I was too much. And you said it like you meant it, Jeongin.”
He shifts his weight. “I was exhausted. That’s what I meant.”
“And instead of saying that, you decided to take it out on me. Again.”
He scoffs under his breath. “You always do this.”
You freeze. “Do what?”
“Make everything about you. I was literally drowning that day. I had no sleep, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and then you just showed up. You didn’t even text first, just came in all smiles like I wasn’t falling apart inside.”
You blink.
The words land harder than they should. “So… loving you, caring enough to check in, that’s too much now?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he snaps.
“It sounds like it,” you bite back.
He sighs, clearly frustrated. “I’m saying that showing up unannounced when I’m already stressed doesn’t help. It just adds more pressure. You keep acting like I’m supposed to be grateful every time you walk through the door.”
You feel the burn of tears behind your eyes, but you refuse to cry again.
“I showed up because I missed you,” you say, voice shaking. “Because we hadn’t seen each other in almost a week and I thought maybe just being near you would help. I didn’t expect balloons or confetti, I just wanted to sit beside you. To support you. But instead, you treated me like an intruder.”
He exhales loudly and drags a hand through his hair. “God, I get it. I was an asshole. I said the wrong thing. But are we really still on this? I’ve been dealing with more than you even realize.”
“Of course you have!” you nearly shout. “That’s why I was there. Because I know this life is hard on you. I just didn’t expect to be seen as part of the problem.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
You’re both breathing hard, standing in opposite corners of the living room like strangers instead of partners.
Eventually, Jeongin speaks again, but his voice is lower. Tired.
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I wanted you to understand why I pulled away,” you whisper. “Why I haven’t been texting back. You hurt me, Jeongin. You made me feel like the very thing I’ve been trying to give you, love, was too much. And now you’re mad that I didn’t just bounce back like it was nothing.”
He’s quiet. The air feels heavy between you.
Finally, he shrugs.
“I’m not good at this,” he mutters. “At talking. At feelings. At whatever this is.”
“You used to be,” you say, and the hurt is so obvious in your voice that even he flinches.
The silence returns.
He looks toward the window, jaw clenched.
And you suddenly realize, he doesn’t know what to say. Not because there’s nothing to say. But because part of him doesn’t think this is a big deal.
And that’s what hurts the most.
You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling smaller by the second. “I don’t know where that leaves us.”
He blinks. “Are you saying we’re done?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to stay in something that makes me feel like this,” you say honestly. “Something that makes me second guess whether I’m helping or hurting just by being here.”
Jeongin looks down at the floor.
You wait, for an apology. For a promise. For anything.
But all he says is, “I don’t know what to say.”
Your heart cracks a little deeper.
You nod slowly and walk to the door, opening it.
Not to kick him out.
But because suddenly, you both need air.
“Maybe we need time,” you murmur.
He doesn’t argue.
He just walks past you, quiet and unreadable.
And when the door clicks shut behind him, the silence is final.
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being so fr… the reader pisses me off sometimes 😭 like i gef it but also bitch what happened to braincells🤨
