#IS IT SO BAD TO WANT MORE FRIENDS TO LOVE JUST AS MUCH!!!! & TO TRUST AS MUCH!!

[starboye]

starring: alexander "konig" kilgore x male reader

request: just thinking about innocent naive reader getting corrupted and not even noticing a single thing because he just want to be a good friend. . .

warnings: smut + angst, yander!konig, kinda obsessive, handjob

konig was such a good friend to you, he would never do anything to hurt such a pretty thing like you and plus you were both best friends so nothing was ever kept a secret between you two, so imagine konigs' face when you announce you have a date with some guy.

watching his face crack into a soft smile and telling you how happy he is for you but behind those eyes he was mad as hell, i mean who does this new guy think he is to try and take you from him, and it gets even worse when you come back from the date the next night and tell konig about how you loved it so much with the biggest smile on your face.

as much as he wants to feel happy for you he just cant imagine anyone else stealing him from you so he makes up a lie "i don't know about him y/n" he blankly making you question him "what do you mean" you ask him "i just have a weird feeling about him" he continues looking at you with the most beautiful eyes "well what if you just get to know him" you try to give an idea but konig pipes up with "you know my gut feeling is usually always right"

and he was kinda right i mean there was that one time you had feeling for this one guy and it turned out he was actually arrested for murder, or at least that's what konig told you (he pulled some strings at the police station and got what he wanted) "well then yeah i guess i can stop seeing him" you say and within seconds konigs arms are wrapped around you and he's thanking you for trusting him.

and queue the constant run of you finding a good guy and konig coercing you to stop seeing them because he has a 'gut feeling' and you trust him, but really he just wants you all to himself, making you depend on him more and more as time goes on by telling you if you ever need help with anything to call him and you do, calling him for even the littlest inconvenience.

whether that be helping you fix something or letting you cry on his shoulder when you get layed of from your job (after he pulled a few more strings and made it seem like you were a bad employee) and offering you a room at his place since you were short on money and couldn't pay your bills.

with you moved in now he can be so much closer to you, sneaking through your things at any chance he could and whats this it seems like you need some new clothes since all yours seem to be gone (he used all of them to jerk off and now they're ruined with his cum) so he takes you to the mall, carrying all your bags as you go to every store getting all the things you want, but hm it seems you need some help trying on those pants why doesn't he help you.

"you sure you're okay with that" you ask him "yeah it's what friends are for" he says helping you but on the jeans that hugged your ass so well, it was no surprise he got a boner, it straining so hard in his pants he just needed some release "fuck baby i need your help" he groans "what's wrong konig" you asked and he moved your hand to the aching bulge in his sweatpants "please just this once" he pleaded and after some consideration you agreed, i mean it was just a one time thing between two friends right.

pulling his pants down his thick cock flops out and you immediately work on fixing it for him, his grip tightening on the top of the dressing room door, your hand rubbing back and forth on his achingly hard boner, this was like his dream, he had thought about this exact thing so much, jerked off to the thought and feel of it but the real things is so much better than he hand.

"fucking shit y/n" he muttered before cumming on your hand, thick load messing up your hand as he let out shuddering breaths, and after that it became a regular thing, konig being all needy and asking you to come help him get off since you did it best (in reality you weren't the best at it but don't worry he'll train you soon enough).

and time after time it seemed you liked it more and more to the enjoyment of konig, maybe just a few more times and you'll tell him how you've had feeling for him to right?

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[rqyup]

# is this part of the plan ? (oneshot)

pairing.. rafayel x dating coach!reader

cw.. angst, non mc!reader, repost

love and deepspace masterlist

thinking about.. rafayel after mc rejects him with the cutting yet honest words,

“you’re too emotionally unstable right now. you need to figure yourself out.”

rafayel is crushed. he spends days sulking in self-pity until a friend points him toward you, a well-known dating coach.

when you first meet him, he’s awkward, defensive, and a little too overdramatic. “i’m not here because i’m bad at love,” he insists. “i’m here because she doesn’t see what’s right in front of her!”

thanks to your years of experience, you saw right through him. he’s stubborn and emotionally guarded, but deep down, he’s just a broken guy who wants to be loved. you agree to help him—not because you think he’s hopeless, but because you see potential in him.

the first sessions are a mix of awkwardness and resistance. rafayel treats it like a battle, constantly questioning your advice.

“you want me to… share my feelings? i think not.”

“writing letters? that’s ridiculous. who does that?”

thinking about.. slowly but surely, though, he begins to trust you. he starts sharing little pieces of himself—stories of his 800 years of waiting, his fears of rejection, and his struggles with being vulnerable. meanwhile, you’re genuinely rooting for him. you find yourself impressed by his progress, even charmed by the small, unguarded moments he shows during your sessions.

one day, you’re both walking back from a session, and rafayel surprises you by holding the door open for you. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels oddly thoughtful.

another time, he shows up to a session with your favorite drink, casually saying, “you mentioned you liked it last time.”

he starts practicing small compliments. “that color suits you” he says offhandedly, and you nearly drop your notebook.

at first, you think he’s just practicing for mc, but there’s something… different about how he treats you. the way his gaze lingers just a little too long. the way his tone softens when he says your name.

during one session, you’re giving him advice about emotional vulnerability, explaining how important it is to express how you feel to the people who matter. he stares at you, his usual sharp retort dying on his lips. for the first time, he really listens—not because he’s thinking about mc, but because the only person he wants to open up to is you.

thinking about.. how the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “oh no,” he thinks. “this isn’t about her anymore.”

rafayel spends the rest of the session distracted, his mind racing. he starts avoiding eye contact, stammering over his words. by the time he leaves, he’s completely panicked.

rafayel begins skipping sessions, making up flimsy excuses like, “i’m busy,” or “i don’t think i need your help anymore.”

you assume it’s because he’s succeeded with mc. while you’re happy for him, a small part of you feels… empty. you hadn’t realized how much you’d started looking forward to his presence, his awkward smiles, and his dramatic complaints.

alone in your office, you find yourself staring at the empty chair where he used to sit, thinking, “why does this hurt so much? he was just a client… wasn’t he?”

thinking about.. the day you see rafayel with mc at a café. you weren’t stalking him—you tell yourself this over and over—but your steps falter the moment you spot them. she’s smiling at something he said, her laugh soft and genuine, and he’s leaning back in his chair, relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

it hurts more than you expect. wasn’t this what he wanted? wasn’t this the whole point? your chest tightens as you force yourself to look away, swallowing the lump in your throat. you remind yourself that you were just his coach, that his happiness is all that matters. still, you can’t stop the wave of jealousy that washes over you.

you walk away before they notice you, but all the while, rafayel’s thoughts are miles away from mc.

he’s smiling, nodding along to whatever she’s saying, but his mind is filled with you. he remembers how your voice softens when you’re explaining something important, the way your eyes light up when you laugh. he thinks about how you believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself, and the way your presence alone made him feel like he wasn’t so broken after all.

mc’s voice pulls him back to the present, but it only makes him feel more out of place. he realizes, with a pang of guilt, that he doesn’t care about impressing her anymore. the only person he wants to see, to be with, is you.

thinking about.. how despite everything, forces himself to love mc because she is his bride, his soulmate.

he’s standing in front of her, the weight of history pressing down on him. the truth that had once been buried beneath all his emotions rises to the surface—mc is his bride, his destined love, the one he was bound to all those years ago. and though his heart aches with the thought of how much he's changed, how much he’s grown through his time with you, rafayel forces himself to turn away from the feeling he’s found with you.

he doesn’t want to, but duty and fate are stronger than desire. he watches mc with a mask of calm, the same mask he wore when he first met you—detached, guarded, emotionally distant.

“ive changed, im ready now,” he tells her, but the words feel hollow, even to him. he’s not ready. but he’s been waiting for so long that he can't abandon what was promised.

you, on the other hand, are left with the silence of what could have been. the empty chair where he once sat no longer feels like an absence but a choice. you can’t deny the sorrow you feel, but you understand. rafayel made his choice, and it wasn’t you.

you let him go, quietly, silently. because even if he didn’t choose you, you know you’ll always carry a piece of him, the part that was real, the part that was always meant to be free.

at the end, you could only dream of what could've been, you imagine both of you sharing a life where he will joke about.. “you were a terrible coach. you made me fall for you instead of the person i was supposed to love.”

and how you will laugh and reply, “and you were the most stubborn client i’ve ever had. but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But I suppose some dreams aren't bound to become real.

rqyup © 2024 – do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my content; dividers by me; likes and reblogs are appreciated !

[justrainandcoffee]

Target (Luca Changretta x fem!oc)

I still don't know if this is going to be a complete fic, but for now here you have this. I started to write it last week, I planned to post it before Christmas but I couldn't.

Tina belongs to @call-sign-shark . Detective!Luca is mine same as his cats.

Warnings: Mentions of killing. Tommy is the victim. Modern AU.

"You are the best", the man in front of him looked nervous, gazing the tabby cat that was sitting on the detective's desk.

"That's what people say," Luca murmured keeping his straight face. "Do you have any problems with my cat, Mr. Shelby?"

"I don't like cats," the man named Arthur answered.

"My cats don't like you either. Minerva here," Luca said pointing at the aforementioned tabby cat "always let me know who is trustworthy and who's not. And guess what, Mr. Shelby, I don't trust you."

"It's not about trustworthy. It's about help. 'M not here to be your fucking friend, Mr. Changretta. I need you to investigate who killed my brother two years ago, because the fuckin' cops didn't do anything."

"I'm not surprised at all. So," Luca said looking at the file in his computer, "Thomas Michael Shelby. 35 years old, widower. Horses, mmh? He did a fucking fortune thanks to the races. So? Someone wanted to steal his stallion? Maybe business went bad? Did he have any enemies?"

"You're asking me the same questions the cops asked! I want solutions!"

"I can't help if I don't know who he was, Mr. Shelby. Any lovers? Women? Men? Both?"

"Many women. But mostly one night stand. Nothing serious since his wife died... Also was killed."

"What a tragedy," Luca said not showing any feelings. "Did they catch her killer?"

"Yeah. They did. He worked alone, he's in lifetime prison."

"No one works alone, I'll investigate that crime, too. Did you bring the money? Cash."

Arthur Shelby nodded, still nervous, but gave him the bills. Detective Changretta took his time to count it and then put it in an electronic safe. "I'll let you know what I got once I know anything. And I'll need your permission to go to your residence."

"Of course you can."

Luca just nodded and after staring at Arthur, this one opted for finally leave the dark office.

"Guess is time for you to eat the finest meat, Minnie," he said to Minerva who was looking at him after Arthur Shelby left. "And your babies, too."

Crimes were pretty common around the world and England wasn't the exception. Even more when money was part of the deal. Love and money were always the two main reasons for killing someone. He didn't know Thomas Shelby and his life apart from what his brother told him but he was willing to investigate. Rich people were always interested to spy.

Luca was in the market. His mind was racing around his new case when a young voice brought him back to reality.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

Luca blinked twice and looked at the young woman next to him. Slim, dark haired, with a captivated smile. But not much as her eyes. Luca couldn't determine at first sight if she was wearing contact glasses or if her heterochromia was natural but her yellow eye caught his attention.

"Yes. I'm okay, thanks."

"I'm sorry, it just seemed you looked a bit lost."

"Thinking about work. As usual... But it's fine. Looking for some meat."

"Oh! You should try the Cacciatore. People say they the best meat around here. Ideal for busy men who want to relax a bit after work," the girl said winking his yellow eye. "Give it a try, sir."

Strange people weren't uncommon for him, but there was something unique about the beautiful girl next to him.

"I will."

"Don't forget to thank me when you try it tonight, sir," she said with a final smile after leaving the aisle and he couldn't help but smile as well.

But what Luca thought after she turned around and left, was that the mysterious young woman had a sight that could kill.

[minikoko-a]

general relationship headcanons — tim wright x fem! reader during and post mh

angst to fluff, some marble hornets spoilers.

maybe i'll write the brian's version HEHEHEHE

merry xmas, beautiful people !! <3

pre mh here!

during marble hornets

you looked at your window, you felt your eyes heavy due to the newly rising rays of the sun that passed through your curtains. you had barely taken a few steps when you felt your throat burning, that damn cough again, you thought.

it had been a few years after that recording, Marble Hornets? you remembered that it was titled like that.

now you had a job, things weren't going bad but of course could have gone better.

but for some time now you started having an intense cough, nightmares and hallucinations. and not to mention the intense headaches!

and also that you have felt stalked by a person, making you move to another house.

you clearly remembered what it looked like, it was impossible to forget that white mask with black outlined eyes and black painted lips with a beige jacket.

at first you thought it was just a simple migraine, but it was happening every day and you were irritated for quite a while. and these symptoms were exactly the same as your ex-boyfriend.

oh your dear ex boyfriend, Tim Wright.

you don't remember exactly when his reserved, calm and sarcastic attitude had become more distant, to the point that weeks could go by him not answering a message.

but you understood it, you were supposed to know him.

you loved each other, supposedly. you trusted each other, supposedly. you were going to end up living together in a house happily married, supposedly.

it was hard to accept that everything had been a "supposedly" (or at least that's what you thought).

you felt like a heavy weight was concentrated on your chest, your breathing was difficult to come out and you felt a strong churning in your stomach.

meanwhile he, with a serious look but still keeping that protective character, had released those words that you never thought you would hear come out of his lips.

"we have to break up"

those words had taken your breath away. you felt your cheeks begin to soak with tears that flowed so freely, the feeling was so unexpected that you felt small spasms in your lungs, that hurt you and too much.

you were hating his words and he at that moment, how could he say that sentence and still have that protective aura? you didn't understand and, honestly, you didn't want to understand anymore.

"alright"

you said in a rather soft sobbing voice, watching as he looked at you for the last time, pressing his lips together and walking away from what the two of you once considered your home, your relationship.

the memory was bitter but your friends said you had to move on and you did it. you were in a relationship with someone else but ended up breaking up because, you're not going to lie, he's not him.

and also that you were doing the same thing as Tim to you.

even though your friends told you to drop the topic, something seemed strange to you. since those Marble Hornets recordings had started, everything changed for the worse.

Tim was already quiet and reserved, but as the days went by, his attitude became more erratic.

you remembered that he came home to your apartment/house quite angry, irritated and tired because "Alex was irritable, again". you managed to calm him down by letting him vent or simply by accompanying him to smoke.

although there came a point where the cigarette drove you dizzy, Tim was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize that the cigarette smoke inside his house was starting to make you like that.

you remember you were at his house, looking at him while he was smoking and talking but you started to cough. then, you went to the bathroom to wash your hands but you managed to see a yellow bottle peeking into the drawer, your curiosity was beginning to take over and before you could react Tim's grip on your arm couldn't make you even react, and anyway, for education you weren't going to do it.

you remember looking at him quite curiously and he was somewhat worried, agitated.

there you found out that Tim was hiding something, something that you told him he shouldn't feel the need to hide.

he explained it to you but didn't get to the core of it as such but still, you understood it.

he looked up and down, from his hands to your face.

you wondered what was eating away at him inside that kept him from getting straight to the point.

but there was only a sigh and a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"do you want to go out to eat something?"

he looked at you and again, you trusted him.

your relationship with Tim was warm but with some mysteries, that's what you concluded.

you took a sip of water trying to calm your burning throat, memories full of nostalgia invaded your head until the sound of the door knocking distracted you.

you hurried to the front door, grabbed the handle and opened it, revealing a pale boy wearing a cap.

"Jay? Oh hi, Jay!"

you and Jay met at the recordings, one of those occasions where Tim invited you to accompany him and Brian on the shoot.

you became friends and kept in contact.

but when you saw a figure that your consciousness and body recognized, you couldn't help but tense up.

but your smile never faded.

Jay was sitting on your couch, dark circles were under his eyes, you looked at him.

"i haven't seen you for a long time, you look... tired, to be honest" you said.

Jay looked at you laughing a little but his smile fell a little and he sighed, his gaze was tired but still had a hint of determination in it.

"we need your help" you looked at him strangely.

"who's "we"?" Jay placed his hand on a forearm, rubbing it a little. "Tim and i" you felt a great weight on your throat. "we have a lot of things to explain to you, but let Tim come in."

Both Jay and Tim explained to you how things were.

need to mention how angry you were?

also that Jay was quite uncomfortable because of the tense atmosphere between you and Tim.

but Tim was worse.

already exhausted and wanting to get this off you, you accepted, collaborating with them as much as you could.

btw, you communicated directly with Jay, never with Tim.

"hey jay, can you tell Tim if he needs this?" "yeah but why don't you tell him directly?" seen.

Tim wouldn't want to get close to you either.

he didn't want to hurt you anymore.

To be honest, the only way you guys talked was in a situation where The Operator was chasing Jay, Tim and you.

Jay managed to get away but when he realized that you two were not there with him, he went into total stress.

meanwhile you both...

well, you had a lot of things to say to each other.

"is he gone already?!" your voice was agitated, you swallowed large gulps of cold air that managed to irritate your throat and nose. "Tim!" Tim didn't say anything.

you let out a tired gasp, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along, urging him to continue running out of the forest.

and that grip managed to get him out of his trance.

you two thankfully escaped unharmed.

you threw yourself on your knees on the grass, trying to process what had happened.

again Tim felt like he hurt you again.

he involved you in this shit, more than you already were. that's what he thinks.

"Tim, are you ok?" and Tim felt so bad again.

he tried to protect you.

now you were sitting on a bench outside the park, the silence was suffocating but no one wanted to make a movement. the two of you looked at each other occasionally but then you gave yourself a mental facepalm, you were acting as you both were in your freshly 20s, but you couldn't deny that it brought a tender smile to your face with a heavy load of nostalgia.

"Tim, when we were together-"

"i never wanted to tell you because i didn't want to involve you, and in the end i did ".

you turned to look at him when you heard soft sobs, instinctively, you put your hand on his shoulder tilting your head a little. seeing him in this way, he didn't even need to tell you everything anymore, his tears were already telling you the whole story. "Tim, can i..." you said in a soft voice.

as your two gazes connected, you smiled softly at him. his eyes filled with tears again, damn he had missed you.

he nodded. you slowly placed your hand on his face, your thumb tracing a path on his cheeks wiping the tears gently.

now you understand.

a few days passed after that moment, Jay was grateful that the tension had dissolved between Tim and you.

the operator's effect was still there, but you tried to deal with it as best you could.

what no one could deny is that it seemed to begin a second chapter between the two of you.

there weren't even words or agreements, it was as if your glances had said the words "love me again, even though you always had me"

everything was going well, they were getting closer to Alex and of that hooded man, even finishing off that tall, faceless man once and for all!

maybe this nightmare was finally going to end... right?

you didn't remember anything, only that you were now in your house. the only thing that you remembered is you accompaning Jay to an abandoned building.

you tried to get out of your bed but stifled a moan, your leg was bandaged. in your blurry memories you tried to remember, but the only thing you could capture was that you were being carried by someone, someone with a kind of yellowish hoodie and the desperate yells of Tim exclaiming your name echoing.

desperately, you grabbed your phone, calling both Tim and Jay but there weren't any answers. the phone was now in the bed, somewhat far from your figure and tears started spilling, dropping and wetting your sheets.

you lost them.

you lost him.

post marble hornets

days passed and your leg was completely healed. boxes and more boxes were scattered around the living room, or well, what would soon be your old living room.

the decision had already been made, you wanted to get away from all, everything you had through was enough to make the decision to move away.

these past few days, a house on fire was on the news. you could recognize that house, it was Tim's house, your love. every moment you remembered him you drowned in more sadness, the opportunity of a second chance was between your fingers and like sand, it slipped through your palm and fingers.

you just had to wait for the moving men and you could go to your new home, the sickness was no longer so present. but suddenly, the sound of the door caught your attention, you thought it was a friend, you grabbed the handle and opened the door revealing the man behind.

"Tim!"

he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him, hugging you. "you are alive" you both said almost in unison.

you two moved together, far away from there.

the sickness began to gradually dissipate mutually.

Tim continued with his medication, and you were always there taking care of him and comforting him, although there were days where everything he had experienced came as a strong blow.

you both got a job!

you live in a small house, quite far from Rosswood park.

"stand by me" vibes

both keep photos of everyone, yes, even photos with Alex.

you understood that Alex was also a victim of The Operator.

you two got married! it was a small and private wedding.

now your relationship (or do i have to say marriage? wink) was much more honest, mature and with a lot of understanding.

after all, the worst is over.

[ccbatman]

actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

[windupaidoneus]

this need for approval is a fucking disease it is absolutely mind boggling that i need feedback on what i say & post or my mind decides everyone takes a look at it & goes yep here goes this annoying freak again talking about his annoying freak things. & im not even like that with everyone. it literally does not fucking matter oh my goddd grow UP! im normal now. i understand my minds machinations. misto is nodding in approval at me

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[desthebolt]

Me, sitting here watching my entire dashboard get bombarded with splatfest grief: … Everyone okay? Yall want some fruit gushers and some water or some shit? Yall need a break?? Like what is happening rn

[taegularities]

love you 🥺🤍

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when I want to be wanted more than anything else

[youmakethelight]

OBSESSED with this scene between them. 🥺🫶

Also, she is Sooo beautiful.

And side noteee - ezekiel out here calling his full ex-wife and mother of his adopted child and woman who he "will never stop loving" his friend. Bc you don't have to be one or the other - someone tell the spinoff showrunner.

I have to admit, though. It feels special. After all we’ve been through, as close as I came. I got a fresh start. And it was important to me that my friend know just how much I appreciate her. It must feel really really good.

[phagodyke]

I SEE PEOPLE ON THE FLOOR SLIDE INTO THE SEA CANT STAY HERE ANYMORE WE'RE TURNING INTO FIENDS IF I STAY HERE TROUBLE WILL FIND ME IF I STAY HERE ILL NEVER LEAVE..... ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[cerberin]

my heart is sooooooooooooooo annoying

[chahnniesroom]

night again

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, insecurities, reader not eating due to stress

a/n: the long awaited 'he calls you clingy' fic! title is from the english translation of 또 다시 밤 (twilight)

read it on ao3 | masterlist

You love your job. It's challenging for sure and the expectations from upper management are often unforgiving, but you’re proud of how hard you've worked and everything that you've accomplished in the past few years at your company. 

As you've gained experience, you've slowly been given more and more responsibility. You've grown out of your junior role and though you're thrilled by the pay raise and prospect of being a team lead rather than being led by one, it's also daunting.

When you and your new team are assigned an important project with tight deadlines, you're determined to prove yourself. It's implied that you're going to have to have to dedicate a significant amount of time to finish it and while you're no stranger to long hours, it means that any plans you have of seeing your boyfriend, Chan, are out the window.

The timing is not terrible, Stray Kids has a comeback scheduled in about a week so you didn't think that you would be able to spend that much time with Chan anyway, but you usually try to surprise the boys at one of the music shows with a cake and some home cooked food.

Luckily, you've already been planning for this. Although nothing had been confirmed, you had expected that this project would be awarded to your company and you've already been trying to spend more time with Chan than usual in preparation for the busy season ahead for both of you.

Still, you can't help but agree with your best friend at work after she complains how little she's going to see her partner this month. Jinjoo doesn't know who your boyfriend is, but the two of you are close enough that you’ve shared that you have one and that work takes up a lot of his time. You've gushed to her about the sweet things that Chan has done for you and you've admitted that you think he's the one.

“You should bring him dinner sometime!” she exclaims when you mention you're not sure when the next time you'll be able to see Chan will be.

“Well, he’s really busy-” you start to say.

“That’s the beauty of it. I’m sure he would appreciate if you brought him food at work, especially if he’s anything like my partner and gets so caught up with work that they forget to eat sometimes,” she insists.

“That’s true.”

“Just trust me, Y/n. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t sure that it’d work. My partner loves when I do this. It’s literally the perfect way to take some time for each other before you’re both too busy. Even if he's super busy, his work can't be bad enough that he’s not allowed to eat, right?”

You agree somewhat reluctantly. You're still unsure about whether or not Chan would appreciate you barging in unannounced, but it is a cute idea and Jinjoo's confidence is enough to convince you.

The next day after work, you head to the company and order takeout for a late dinner for you and Chan, picking it up along the way. It reminds you of earlier in your relationship before you had gotten your current position and when Stray Kids were just gaining popularity. Both of you enjoyed having more casual date nights that provided more privacy as opposed to going out to fancy places and it makes you even more excited to see his reaction.

About a year after you started dating Chan, he insisted that you get a pass to get into JYP Entertainment without having to fill out a visitor's form and have someone pick you up. It has definitely come in handy more than a few times, although you try to limit the number of visits you make. Even though you're allowed to be there, it still feels intimidating to be in the building, like someone is going to recognize that you're not an employee and accuse you of being a sasaeng.

Luckily the late hour means that you make it to Chan's studio without having to interact with anybody except the security at the door, who had waved you through without a second thought. You had double checked with Felix earlier in the day to make sure that Chan didn't have any schedules or dinner plans, so you directly knock on his door without texting or calling him beforehand. 

“Y/n?” he asks, a bit baffled when he sees you. “Did we- Did I forget that we had plans tonight?”

“No,” you say, a little nervous for some reason. It's just Chan, you tell yourself, but it doesn't make you feel any better. “I didn't think that you had dinner yet and wanted to see you.”

“Oh, I see. Come in,” Chan responds slowly, still processing your sudden appearance. “I just have something that I need to finish up-”

“It's fine! You can work,” you assure him quickly. “I don't want to interrupt you too much, I just wanted to drop by since I don't have plans and wanted to make sure that you're eating well.”

Chan’s studio isn’t messy at all, but he still gets up to clear some space on a side table for you, before returning back to where he has Cubase opened up. You pass over his food and feel relieved when he immediately digs in, but your appetite seems to have vanished, you can only get yourself to pick at your meal.

Chan is short with his responses all evening and continues to work on his laptop, even while eating. It throws you off a bit, you thought that he would be able to get to a stopping point and at least make a bit of time for you, but you did tell him that he could. Even so, you're determined to make the most of the last time that you’re going to see them for a while. You know they’ve been super busy the past few days, or more like the past few weeks, but still you had thought he would be a little bit more engaged or at the very least seem happy to see you.

Finally, after half an hour of eating with minimal conversation, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind this entire time. Chan’s finished his food and you know that you won’t be able to get yourself to eat anymore, so you shuffle everything off to the side and inch closer to Chan. 

“You know that client we’ve been trying to work with for a while?” you start tentatively.

Chan hums noncommittally, continuing to type on his computer. Not quite the reaction that you're hoping for, but you forge on anyway.

“We got awarded the job! It’s a great opportunity for the company and everyone is really excited, but-”

“Y/n,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry, that’s amazing and all, but you know that it’s not a good time for me right now. I have something I really need to work on and now that you’ve finished eating, can we please not bother with the small talk?”

“Oh,” you say, a bit caught off guard. Chan has never been the type to cut you off when you're speaking. “No, yeah, I get it. Uhm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, just-” he sighs, sounding frustrated. “Next time can you please ask me when you want to visit in advance so this doesn’t happen again? You chose the worst timing to come by. I just need some space, from all of… this,” he says, waving a hand between the two of you.

“Sorry, I know it’s a busy time, but I just wanted to see-”

At that moment, an alarm on Chan's phone goes off, interrupting you. When he turns it off and notices the time, he swears lowly, unlocking his phone and typing out a message to somebody. You’re scared to break the silence. Less than a minute later, someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Chan calls. When Changbin and Jisung step into the room, they eye you curiously. You keep your head down and try to prevent your hands from shaking as you stand and start to haphazardly shove away all your belongings and the garbage from your dinner into bags. 

“Noona, it's good to see you!” Jisung says brightly, although his smile dims when you make eye contact and can only manage to weakly return the smile. “Sorry for interrupting you two.”

“Hi Hannie,” you reply quietly, not wanting to make conversation, but not wanting to be rude.

“It’s okay, Y/n was just leaving,” Chan says, his obvious annoyance making things even more awkward.

You say bye to the boys quietly and apologise as you shuffle past them to the door.

The handles of the bag from your dinner are digging into your hand painfully and your purse can’t close with the way that you’ve thrown everything into it. You only take a few steps before you have to stop for a moment to save a container from falling and decide to put down everything and reorganise it all.

When you crouch down, you take a second to mentally berate yourself. Everything you had worried about had come true. Instead of being a pleasant surprise, you had come across as a nuisance.

In your rush, you hadn't fully closed the studio door behind you and you're close enough that you can just barely pick up the conversation that happens inside.

“Sorry,” you hear Chan say faintly. “I don't know what's been going on, but Y/n has been… really clingy these days. She just showed up today without asking and I hate-”

You leave before he has the chance to say anything else. You look like a mess for sure, you had just grabbed all the empty containers without bothering to put them back into the plastic bag, your jacket is partially dragging on the ground, and your purse is hanging off your elbow, having slipped off your shoulder. You're pretty sure you hear an empty drink bottle clatter to the floor behind you, but you don't look back to check.

You don't have it in you to care, you just need to leave.

Even waiting for the elevator feels humiliating, so you bypass it and stumble down the stairs. You dump the garbage into a bin on the first floor, not bothering to sort it properly, and step out onto the street, bee-lining to the nearest subway station.

The ride home passes by in a blur.

It hurts, of course it hurts. 

Honestly the reason that your relationship had worked out so far was because you weren’t the kind of person that needed a lot of attention. You understood that both of you were busy and were content to just exchange messages every couple of days because you knew how important Stray Kids was to Chan. Of course you did, they were just as important to you.

If Chan wanted space, well. You were more than capable of giving it to him.

In fact, your upcoming schedule had been the reason that you had wanted to meet up in the first place, the source of your so-called clinginess. You’d never been called that before. You were hyper-independent and tended to get lost in your own mind, easily distracted by different thoughts. It had gotten to a point that most of your exes had complained at least once about you being distant or inattentive.

With Chan, you had been determined not to be the same. It had been difficult at first, to make the effort to send messages throughout the day. You had to convince yourself not to spend too long drafting replies in your head and try not to worry that you were bothering him, especially if you knew that he had schedules at the same time that you were texting.

By the time that you make it to your apartment, your pain has faded into a mixture of resignation and numbness. You don't want to talk to Chan about how you feel, it's your clinginess that he didn't like in the first place, and you don't think you'll have time or the energy for a long, emotional conversation in the next few weeks anyway. If you keep your distance for a while, it just benefits both of you, you tell yourself. You won’t be a distraction to Chan as Stray Kids has their comeback and he won’t be one to you as you take on this new project. 

As much as you want to spend the rest of your night overthinking- something you’ve done more than you’d like to admit- you know that you have a busy day at work tomorrow. Feeling a bit like a zombie, you force yourself to shuffle through your usual nighttime routine, swallowing a melatonin pill before climbing into bed.

Normally, you would send Chan a good night message. Actually, normally you would have sent him a message the second that you arrived home. It was something that he was insistent on starting from early on in your relationship, wanting to make sure that you were safe.

Tonight, you just turn off your phone, plug it into its charger, and sleep.

—

In the morning, you allow yourself to wallow in bed for 5 minutes, before you get ready for work. You’ve never been good at eating breakfast and today’s no exception. Your stomach turns uneasily at the thought of food so you only force yourself to drink some water before you leave.

Your team at work has agreed to get to work earlier than usual just to get a headstart on everything. Though you’re more of a night owl, you’re grateful to find that deviating from your usual routine means that the subway is empty enough that you can find an empty seat, a luxury that you’ve rarely experienced.

It feels eerie to walk through the streets of Seoul when the sun has just started to rise and you’re relieved when you finally make it to your office.

Unsurprisingly, you’re one of the first to arrive. You’re grateful for the time that you have to unpack your things and make a much needed coffee before the rest of your team shows up.

“How did it go last night?” Jinjoo asks you excitedly when she comes in.

“Uhm, it was okay,” you reply noncommittally. “He was definitely surprised.”

“Oh,” Jinjoo pouts at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I mean, it wasn’t bad,” you backtrack, hating to see her disappointed. “It was just so short, he was kind of… busy. But that’s what I expected anyway so that's fine I guess. Thanks for suggesting it to me though! I really appreciate it.”

“That’s good,” Jinjoo brightens. “At least you got to see him one last time.”

“Oh yeah for sure! I think that after seeing him yesterday, it’ll be easier to deal with how busy we’re going to be for the next few weeks,” you say truthfully. 

It’s not a lie, you justify. For the first time since you started dating, you’re not looking forward to the next time that you’re going to see Chan.

You know that your communication is about to reduce to an all time low for the next few weeks, and while you had originally been worried about how Chan would react, now you’re thinking that he’s just going to be relieved not to hear from you. You’ve never thought yourself to have been overly chatty with Chan during the day though, preferring in-person conversation over texting and knowing that he’s generally not available to read your messages anyway, much less send you a reply. It seemed that you were wrong. 

Luckily your team now has to use a shared box that you’re required to put your personal phones into during working hours and only have a little bit of time during lunch and dinner breaks, if you take them, to fish them out. It’s a policy that your company enforces when teams are working on confidential projects and you can’t blame them due to past litigation that they’ve been involved in after a former employee leaked sensitive information.

For once, you're glad for this excuse to not look at your phone, even if you feel a little bit naked to look at the side of your desk or reach into your pocket and not have your phone there. You’re relieved to bury yourself in your work and forget all about your personal life. Even though your project is just starting, you feel like you're already behind. 

When you're finished work for the day and take back your phone, you find yourself reluctant to check your notifications. It's only when you're waiting for the subway to arrive at your station that you finally force yourself to take a look.

No new messages or calls from Chan.

You’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you’re still disappointed.

You get back to your apartment late, you had wanted to finish a couple of things before you left the office and it had led to you being one of the last to leave. You had also stopped by the convenience store closest to your place, not having the energy to cook anything for yourself.

You pick at your dinner half-heartedly. You're used to eating alone, Chan often had his meals at odd times due to his schedules, but tonight the silence feels more oppressive. 

It haunts you, the tail end of the overheard conversation. You have no idea how Chan was going to complete the sentence, but your mind unhelpfully fills in the blanks with worse and worse suggestions.

He hates the timing of your visit.

He hates that you visited at all.

He hates that he has such a clingy girlfriend.

He hates that you are his clingy, annoying, bothersome girlfriend.

He hates you.

In moments of clarity, you can recognize that it's not true. That's not the Chan that you know and he would never say something like that about anybody, least of all you. It's just hard when a small part of you has never really been able to believe that someone as talented and amazing as Chan would want to date someone as unremarkable as you.

You find yourself falling into a new routine, waking early, working overtime, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep. You succeed most of the time, you keep yourself occupied by thinking about work and you're so physically exhausted by your long hours that you fall asleep the second that you get into bed. Luckily, your coworkers are just as overworked as you are and it’s easy to blame your declining condition on the project. Weekends don't help you rest at all, you've committed to your manager that you can work on Saturdays and Sundays are spent completing the chores that you've neglected during the week.

You still talk to Chan sometimes, either right when you wake up or on the way home after work. The conversation is stilted though, both because of the long delays between messages when you text and the limited time that you have when you call. It's enough of a difference that Chan asks you multiple times if everything is okay. Even though you try your best to assure him that you're fine, just busy, you're sure he knows that something is off, although he doesn't question you further.

Most exciting is the day that the new Stray Kids album releases. You've already heard most of the songs for this comeback, perks of dating the member that's the most involved in the writing and production of the album, but it's different now that they're available to the public too. You make sure to organise your schedule so that you're on break when the music video drops and you send a number of messages in the group chat that you have with the group cheering them on. Usually, you try to take a day off to deliver some food to them at the music shows, but you've had to settle for arranging with one of their managers to treat them to a meal.

You can tell when they get breaks because when you check your phone after work, notifications from the members are all in the same blocks of time. It's mostly them thanking you, taking pictures of the food you sent, flowers that they've been gifted, and letters from fans. They have a short promotion period this comeback, but it's packed with different interviews, performances, and fanmeets. At one point, Felix even sends you a picture of Chan sleeping slumped over on one of the waiting room couches. As much as you're relieved to see that he's able to get some rest, the picture has your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

You're proud of Chan, of all of the boys. They've worked so hard and each comeback seems to be more and more successful. Even if you're not confident in what's going to happen with you and Chan in the future, you want to celebrate with them while you still can.

—

After almost four weeks, your project is nearing completion and you've never been more grateful to have a deadline arrive.

You only have a couple more days left until your last submittal is due and after getting off work, you want nothing more than to collapse into bed even though your stomach has been growling the whole walk from the bus to your building. You had caught a significant mistake in a document right before it was going to be sent to a client and the whole afternoon had been spent trying to fix it in time. Your team had just barely managed it, but your head has been pounding for hours and your whole body is tight with stress.

You’re not quite sure how you make it to your apartment, your exhaustion has made you clumsy. You struggle a couple times to enter in the code to unlock your door and trip over a pair of shoes that are scattered in the entryway.

You manage to catch yourself before you fall, then squint back. Yes, you haven’t had the chance to tidy your apartment in a couple weeks, but you’ve never been the type to leave your shoes on the walking path.

A light is on, further in your apartment. You know for a fact it wasn’t like that when you left this morning, it would have been obvious since you've been leaving before the sun rises. Someone else is here.

You stare at the light for a few seconds in disbelief, then slowly reach to grab something, anything that you might be able to use to defend yourself. Your shaking hands close around a full sized umbrella that you keep beside your closet. 

You’ve already made enough commotion that there’s no way the intruder didn’t hear, but you try to keep your footsteps light as you creep down the hall to where your kitchen is. It’s stupid to try and confront them, but the idea of someone in your space, potentially taking your things, is enough to inspire a sudden bout of bravery.

You hold your breath as you turn the corner, launching forward to attack the second that you see someone. You recognise the figure halfway through your swing, and though it’s too late to fully stop, you manage to pull back enough that they’re able to easily catch the umbrella before it hits them.

Chan wraps his arms around you then eases the umbrella out of your hands, resting it against the wall. You sag into his embrace, adrenaline draining away, leaving you exhausted again. 

“Chan?”

You've missed this. His warmth, his comforting scent, the reassuring steadiness that he always provides. You can almost pretend that everything is fine.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says, sounding more amused than apologetic.

“You should be,” you grumble into his shirt. “I could have seriously injured you if I didn't realise it was you!”

“I don't think that was going to be a problem.” Even though you can't see Chan, you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Hey!” You lightly smack his arm. “You take that back!”

“Fine, fine,” Chan acquiesces, holding up both his hands in surrender. “I'm very glad that I didn't have to experience the full power of your self defence.”

“Yeah yeah,” you huff. “What are you doing here anyway? Other than trying to give me a heart attack, that is.”

“I made you dinner,” Chan says shyly, turning pink.

“For what?” you ask suspiciously. It's easy to fall back into the banter that you typically exchange with Chan, but you can't help but be a bit wary these days.

“No reason. I uh, just haven't seen you in a while,” Chan says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck where it’s now flushed red. “We had so much preparation to do and then all our schedules… Anyway, I wanted to surprise you, so I thought I could cook for us.”

Now that he's mentioned it, you can see that he's set your tiny kitchen table and that there's a couple of pots on the stove. Chan doesn’t cook often, but he’s expressed a desire to learn before and you’ve taught him how to make a few of your favourite recipes.

You stare at him for a moment, lost for words.

It's only been a few weeks, but you feel like you've forgotten how to act around Chan. Instead of a comfortable silence, it's almost awkward, neither of you knowing what to say.

“Oh,” you say finally, touched and still a little shocked that he's actually here. “That's- that's so nice, I just- is it okay if I wash up a bit quickly first?”

“No, yeah, of course. I'm sure you had a long day,” Chan says. “Go ahead, I’ll- the food should be reheated anyway so I’ll get on that. Take your time.”

You skirt around him to go to the bathroom, taking a moment to splash yourself with water. This feels like a bizarre dream and you wonder for a moment if you’re making this all up. But when you leave to go to your bedroom, Chan’s still there, puttering around in front of your kitchenette. You change your clothes slowly, mind racing as you try to puzzle together why Chan has decided to visit all of a sudden.

You eventually settle on the most logical reason that you can think of.

He’s finally decided to break up with you.

You’ve figured that this was coming for weeks by now, but somehow it still hurts. Instead of feeling resigned, it feels like you’re shattering into little pieces. You twist your work blouse into a tiny ball as you try not to cry, even though you know the fabric is going to wrinkle terribly. You finish cleaning up in a daze, already drafting what you're going to have to message your manager later. There's no way that you're going to be in any shape to work tomorrow if you’re right.

“Y/n?” Chan calls eventually. You know you're procrastinating leaving your room, but you want to put this off for as long as possible even though you know it’s just delaying the inevitable. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a heavy heart. “I’m fine. I'll just be another second.”

You can tell that Chan doesn’t quite believe you. He hovers around you when you emerge from your bedroom, knocking away your hand when you try to pull out your own chair from the table.

He's set the table, going so far as to fold little napkins under your utensils. There's even a tiny vase with your favourite flowers as a centrepiece. All this effort just hurts more.

“You look exhausted. You got home so late. Where were you?” he asks.

“I was at work,” you reply stiffly. You know that if you try and say any more, your emotions are going to spill over and you're either going to scream or cry. Maybe both.

“So late?” Chan's forehead creases with some sort of emotion. You can't quite tell if it's concern or scepticism.

“You're not the only one that has a demanding job.”

“Y/n, you know that's not what I meant-”

“Sure,” you say. “Whatever, let's just eat. Thank you for the food.”

You don't want to deal with this. You're so tired.

You have no idea why Chan’s dragging this out longer than it needs to be. Why he’s forcing you to sit through a meal with him like he’s not about to break your heart. Chan is one of the kindest people you know, he’s probably trying to make this easier for you, giving you one last nice memory, but it just feels cruel.

Chan reaches out, stopping you before you can pick up your chopsticks. He stares at the way his fingers overlap each other around your wrist.

“You’ve lost weight,” he says quietly. You look away, watching steam curl from the bowl of rice that has been set in front of you instead of returning eye contact.

“I’ve been busy.” Is all you can say in response. 

You don’t want to tell him that you’ve been basically subsisting on iced americanos and various convenience store meals in part because of your work schedule, but mostly because of your lack of appetite. Every time you thought of Chan, it made your stomach turn and well, everything reminded you of him. You hadn’t realised how much it had actually affected your physical condition until now though.

“You're not taking care of yourself,” he scolds you. You can feel yourself bristle at his comment even though you know it’s true. “I haven't been around to take care of you either. I'm sorry.”

“Chan,” you protest. It has been weeks since you last saw him in person and you’ve spent more time that you’d like to admit micro analysing your relationship, but you still can’t make sense of his behaviour, especially how he keeps switching between criticism and tenderness.

“What?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you,” Chan says, sounding hurt and confused. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I just- I don’t understand what you want from me!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration. “One day you don’t want me around, we go weeks without seeing each other, then you’re at my place cooking me dinner? You said you needed space, I gave you space."

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean I don’t want you around?” Chan asks, alarmed. “When have I ever said that?”

“You made it pretty clear that you didn’t appreciate it when I went to bring you dinner that day,” you start.

“No, baby!” Chan stands up abruptly before you can say anything else. He falters when the loud scrape of his chair causes you to flinch back. He slowly walks towards you and kneels in front of you, reaching out to hold your hands in his. His eyes are wide with earnestness. “Of course I wanted to spend time with you. I always want to be with you.”

“So why did you call me clingy?” you ask in a small voice. Gone is your anger, replaced with a self-consciousness that you can’t hide. You look away as tears prickle your eyes.

Gently, Chan lets go of your hands and cups your cheeks instead, turning your face so that he can see you better. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape.

“Baby,” he says, sounding even more upset and angry than you feel. “I'm sorry. Did someone tell you I said that?”

“Nobody had to tell me, I heard you say it myself!” you burst out, pushing Chan away. You know that you’re being dramatic, that you keep oscillating between different emotions, but you don’t care. “That day, in your studio, you told Han and Changbin that I was really clingy.”

“You heard me talking to Binnie and Hannie?” Chan asks slowly.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sniffle. One of Chan's hands shifts and he carefully tucks behind a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face. The gentleness makes even more tears well up.

“It's okay, I think I know what you overheard now. It must have hurt, right?”

You can't muster up a response, choosing instead to just nod slightly.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he soothes you. “Can I explain myself?”

You pause for a moment, then slowly nod again.

“I don't mind that you're clingy, actually, I like it. I shouldn't have used that word. I like that you want to spend time with me, Y/n,” Chan says carefully. “I like that you take time to visit me, even though I know that your work is busy too. I think that it's cute and thoughtful that you think of me and try to take care of me by bringing me food. I know that you intentionally take the time out of your day to text me because you know that I like hearing from you, even though I might not see it or respond right away.”

Chan pauses for a second and you use it as an opportunity to pull away slightly. His hands tighten briefly, before he lets them fall away, giving you the space to process.

It's not that you don't like what Chan is saying, it's just hard to reconcile it with the thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past few weeks. You still don't understand what you overheard though, how it fits into all of this. When you voice your concerns to Chan, he sighs, before continuing to speak.

“I don't know what I did to have someone as caring and thoughtful as you in my life.” You want to protest, but Chan carries on before you can say anything. “It's just that- you visited me without notice and were the sweetest person in the world. I wanted to spend time with you, believe me, I did, but I can't just ignore my deadlines when the rest of the members are relying on me. It makes me feel like garbage when I can’t give you all my attention. That's the thing I hate the most. That I can't be the boyfriend that you deserve. That I can't show you how much you mean to me the way that I want to.”

It makes sense, in some sort of twisted way. You know that similarly to you, Chan often feels insecure. It had taken a while before you had been able to convince him that you really did want to be in a relationship with him even with all of the difficulties that were associated with being an idol. You hadn't realised that your visit had fed into his worries that he wasn’t enough.

“I didn't know,” you say quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, I didn't tell you how I was feeling and that's on me. I’m the one that’s sorry, you have no reason to be. I should have been clearer about what was going through my mind and it wasn't any excuse for the way that spoke to you. Even if I wasn't at my best, I can't believe that I made you feel like I didn't want you to be around.” Chan shakes his head and you can tell that he's beating himself up about it. This time, you're the one that reaches out to him, grabbing one of his hands in both of yours.

“I am sorry that I put you into that position, though. I got caught up in the idea of how fun and romantic it might be, that I didn't give enough consideration to your schedule. Even though I wanted to surprise you, it would have been better to check with you beforehand. I don't ever want you to have to feel like you have to choose between me and work.”

“It was a really nice surprise,” Chan agrees. “I wish that I hadn't been so wrapped up that I wasn't able to enjoy spending time with you. I really hated not being able to see you these past few weeks.”

“It was really hard for me too,” you admit.

“I missed you so much. I missed your beautiful voice, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. I missed all the texts that you usually send, they make me feel like I'm not as far away, that I'm a part of your day too. You kept saying that everything was fine and- I know it's hard for you, especially during comeback periods when I'm not as responsive. I didn't want to pressure you into messaging me more often if I'm not able to do the same.”

“No, it's not that. It doesn't bother me. Work was, is still really busy for me,” you explain. “I was trying to tell you that day, but-”

“But I basically shut you down,” Chan realises. He laughs bitterly. “I’m just the worst, aren't I? No wonder you were so confused by why I was here.”

“I thought you were going to break up with me tonight,” you whisper. Chan looks devastated by your statement.

 “No- you know I wouldn't-” Chan stumbles on his words in his haste to correct you.

“I don't think that anymore,” you reassure him. “I understand everything now, it was just that we didn't communicate well and I assumed… It's okay, we're together now, this won't happen again.”

“I promise that I will make it up to you. I love you and I will prove it to you in every way possible. And I'm going to start right now. You still haven't eaten yet, please go ahead.” Chan moves back to his abandoned chair and doles out a portion of the stew from the pot that's on the table. 

“I am really hungry,” you confess. Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl loudly and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. 

Just like that, it feels like things are back to normal.

You know that there's still more that you and Chan have to talk about. The two of you have only scratched the surface on your insecurities, communication, and how those things led to such a significant misunderstanding.

But tonight, it's enough that you get to share a meal with the man that you love.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[alexanderwales]

"I don't think I could have the relationship with you that you have with me," she said. She was very casual about it, and I was immediately on the defensive.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

She put the book she'd been reading down. "It's just, the way you've described it, and the vibe that I get, I don't think I could do it how you do it."

"I still don't know what that means," I said.

"You're always doing this like ... micro calculation thing," she said. "You weigh your words. You try to time things. You have never once called me up while I was at work, or asked me for something when it was inconvenient for me, and you check and double check that you're not being a nuisance."

"And ... that's bad?" I asked.

"No, I love that about you," she said. "It's very kind and considerate. I know that if I tell you I'm not in the mood to hang out, you'll apologize and not push it. If you suggest that we get pizza and I say I'd rather have Korean BBQ, you fold instantly and we get Korean BBQ. I like that. I get the things I want. But it seems like an exhausting way to deal with people."

"I want you to be happy," I said with a small voice.

"I am happy," she replied. "You're great. You remember when we first got together I was like 'hey, look, if you want pizza, we can get pizza, it's just not what I'm in the mood for', and you kept insisting that you didn't care, that you would rather have me follow my needs? And I just thought, 'you know, maybe I should just trust that's what they actually feel'. And it is, as far as I can tell. There's not some secret part of you that wants me to break your way."

"You think I'm ... a simpering coward?" I asked. Even as I said it, it felt too accusatory, the wrong thing to say in the situation.

"Whoa, no, not at all," she laughed. "I think you do all that stuff because ... I don't know, you want to? Because otherwise why would you do it? It's how you are with every aspect of your life, you're a tryhard. I mean you said to me that you wanted to reclaim the term. Your relationship with me is that you're a tryhard (affectionate)."

"And you're ... not?" I asked.

"I'm not that way with anyone," she replied. "You know why I hang out with you so much? It's 'cause I like you. Most days, I am very much in the mood for you, and if you ask for a meetup, I'll say yes, and if you don't ask for one, then I'll ask you first. And for you ..."

"What?" I asked.

"It's like ... you're keeping track," she said. "You want to make sure that you're not sending me more messages than I'm sending you. You're balancing social micro stuff that I don't pay attention to. You're consciously monitoring how much each of us has said and making sure it's the right number of words or whatever."

"It's really not about the number of words," I replied. "It's more ... making sure that social and emotional labor is equitable, that there's a good rhythm to the conversation. I don't think you'd get good results by tracking word count."

"But see, I don't do any of that," she said. "I talk because I feel like talking. I listen when you need to vent because I like you and it feels good to give you an outlet. I mean you are undoubtedly putting in a bunch of work, and for me, there's no work. That's all I meant, really."

"You've thought about it," I said.

"Oh, I'm just reading this book, and there are two characters like us in it, and I was like 'yes, exactly', and then 'that would not work for me'." She shrugged.

"And if I stopped 'putting in the work'?" I asked. "Would we still be ... friends?"

"See, I don't know," she said. "Because that's never who you've been. You're asking me if I would still be friends with you if you changed your personality and how we interact with each other. Maybe? Probably? Who knows? Maybe we'd be better friends somehow. Maybe we're just two basically compatible people, and every time you've ever worried about anything it would actually have been completely fine."

"Or maybe it's load-bearing," I said.

"Maybe!" she replied with a smile that slowly faded. "You okay?"

"I'm thinking," I said. I didn't know if I could verbalize what I was thinking in a way that would be palatable.

"Do you not like being this way with me?" she asked. "Because I have never asked you to. I've made my preferences known, but if you've been bending yourself into knots and feeling a burden, then ..."

"No," I said, because I knew it was what she wanted to hear. "No, I like the way things are between us."

"Good," she smiled. "I do too."