Namtan_Lover

I miss my jobless life. So many other stories from the client hasn't release :(

Sorry guys. I was suppose to update yesterday night but I slept early. I'll update it now :>

Sorry guys for no update. I'll update tonight <3

Hello everyone! 
          
          To all of you who’ve been waiting for me to write your stories and first of all, THANK YOU for trusting me with your imagination (and your chaos). ✨
          
          Please be a little more patient with me, na~ I’m still taking turns like a fanfic barista on queue duty  I haven’t forgotten your story, I promise! It’s just chilling in my drafts, waiting for its spotlight.
          
          If I haven’t replied to your DM, I might’ve missed it (the algorithm be playing hide and seek) or it got buried deep down in the DM pit. Also... my phone bills got cut yesterday  so I’m currently surviving on someone else’s hotspot like a true Wattpad warrior.
          
          I might be a bit late to release new chapters or finish your requests until I land a stable job. (I’ve had 3 interviews this week and… let’s just say, they didn’t go as I hoped )
          
          So sorry if this came late, just wanted to let y’all know what’s up. Thank you for sticking with me. Your support means more than you know 
          
          With love (and someone’s WiFi),
          — W.R
          

Spoiler chapter 4 [Melting]
          
          The lock clicked softly as Milk pushed open the door, balancing a bag of snacks in one hand and her keys in the other.
          
          "Yo," she called into the quiet apartment, her voice light, practiced, breezy. "I brought Pocky and that weird yogurt you like."
          
          No response.
          
          She kicked off her shoes, scanned the room and felt her chest tighten.
          
          The lights were still on. The food she left earlier still untouched. But the couch... was empty.
          
          "Namtan?" she called again, louder now.
          
          Still nothing.
          
          Milk set down the bag and tried not to panic. She checked the bathroom. The tiny balcony. The corner by the window where Namtan sometimes curled up like a cat.

From the author (yes, the so-called “bad one”):
          You can call me a bad writer, say whatever you want. I truly, deeply, aggressively don’t care. I’m not here to please everyone. I’m here to write whatever I want, however I want, and express what’s in my heart, my past, and my brain that won’t shut up. Some scenes come from my real life. Some come from my imagination. Either way? You’re welcome. Not everyone has trauma and creativity, bestie.
          If you don’t like it? That’s fine. Leave. Unfollow. I won’t cry. I’d rather lose followers than lose myself.
          
          Oh, and if you're still here? Thank you for appreciating my “great” imagination. (Yes, even the unhinged parts.) LMAO.

Important note from the author:
          
          If you have a problem with stories where side characters also get the spotlight, the door is right there. I don’t write cardboard cutouts. I write people. And in my world (yes, my world, the one I built word by word), every character breathes, feels, and deserves to shine. The main character will always be the heart of the story, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is just background noise. So if that’s not your thing, it’s totally fine. Just don’t read my books. I write for readers who are ready to love the whole world, not just the center of it. 

PSA from the author (aka me, the drama queen with a pen)
          
          Before you come into my story yelling, “It’s the side character’s plot now!!”—breathe, hydrate, and maybe read past chapter three. I don’t write flat stories. I write worlds. And in this world, side characters are allowed to be important, have feelings, AND take up space. That doesn’t mean the main character disappeared, it means we’re building an actual story, not a one-person talent show. So sit back, trust the process, and maybe don’t comment things you’ll regret after the plot punches you in the face later. With love and occasional pettiness,
          
          The Author

HELLOOOO MY BEAUTIFUL (AND POSSIBLY UNSTABLE) READERS 
          
          Guess what? WE DID IT. 900 readers for "In Your Pages" and "Class 6/1"??? I don't even have 9 real friends but now 900 of you decided to read my brain soup and said, “Yes, let’s suffer together.” Whether you came for the chaos of Class 6/1 or the soft heartbreak of In Your Pages or both (you monsters), THANK YOU. You could’ve chosen sleep, sanity, or snacks... but instead, you chose my stories. That’s love. That’s loyalty. That’s trauma bonding.
          
          So here’s to you, the reader who cried, screamed, threw your phone, or swore at my cliffhangers. I see you. I fear you. I love you. 900 is just the beginning. LET’S GO MAKE IT 1000 AND GIVE Y’ALL EVEN MORE FEELINGS TO PROCESS IN THERAPY ✨
          

Spoiler chapter 3 [Melting]
          
          And there, by fate or stubborn coincidence, she met Milk. At a market near the bus station, Milk caught her trying to sketch a sleeping cat on a receipt paper and asked if she was an artist. “Something like that,” Namtan had mumbled.
          
          Milk offered her coffee. A place to crash.
          A job.
          
          And, unexpectedly…
          A sister.