I had a small car accident and ended up in the hospital. I wanted to let you know before you wonder why i go silent for some time.
The important part first: I’m okay. 🫶🏻
I did need surgery, but everything went well and now I just need to rest and recover for a bit.
Please don’t worry too much. I’m in good hands and being taken care of.
And because I know some of you might be wondering:
the fanfictions scheduled for tomorrow will still be posted.
Apparently hospital rest comes with a lot of time to write… so silver linings, right? 😌✍🏻 And I already edited the drabbles.
If you want to help entertain me a little while I’m stuck resting, feel free to send me asks or questions. Anything you’ve always wanted to ask me, about writing, ATEEZ, or just random things. I’d love the distraction 🥰
Thank you for always being so kind and supportive. Just knowing you’re here already feels like a hug. I’ll be back to full energy soon 🤍
How are you all liking the new Hongjoong fic so far?
I know the themes in this one are a little heavier than in most of my other stories. That’s very intentional. I didn’t want to romanticize domestic violence in any way, so the story needs a little time to develop instead of rushing through what Y/N is going through.
This story is also very personal to me. Y/N’s ex is unfortunately based on my own experience, which is why I was a little nervous about posting this at first. But I still wanted to write it and tell this kind of story in an honest way.
I’m really curious what you all think about it so far. The last part will be posted until saturday. (Depends on how far I will come with editing)
And just as a small reminder for anyone reading this who might be in a toxic or abusive relationship: it can feel incredibly isolating and like you are completely alone in it. But you are not. There are always people and organizations who will listen and help you if you reach out. You deserve to feel safe, respected, and valued. 🤍
Even though i said in my last post that I am feeling better now, i still caught myself this night lying awake here in South Korea. Staring at the ceiling and wondering what I’m actually doing with my life.
I really thought things would feel easier by now. more familiar. more okay. and in some ways they are. Korea doesn’t feel as overwhelming as it did in the beginning, but the loneliness still sneaks up on me when everything goes quiet. that kind of loneliness where your thoughts get too loud and suddenly you’re questioning every decision you’ve ever made.
especially with my career. Don't get me wrong I love my job, i worked hard for it and my degree in Biotechnology.
I still catch myself wondering if the path I chose was the right one. if I pushed myself in the right direction or just… pushed myself too far. and at the same time, I know that struggling like this is kind of normal. that life isn’t meant to feel good and stable all the time. that most of us are just getting through bad days in the hope of a better week, a better month, a better version of ourselves somewhere down the line.
but even when you know it’s “just a phase,” it still hurts. it still pulls your mood down. knowing doesn’t magically make it lighter.
something I don’t talk about much is how different I am in real life compared to what I show online. I’m not loud or confident. I’m shy. introverted. really bad with new people. so being far away from home, having to connect, speak up, stand in front of people and act like some sort of authority figure… yeah. nightmare fuel for me.
and yet, I still do it. every damn time.
sometimes I don’t even know why.
is it because I want to change myself?
because I don’t want to miss out on this experience?
or am I just incredibly stubborn?
maybe it’s a mix of all three.
I don’t have a big conclusion or a lesson here. I think I just wanted to be honest. to say that even when things look exciting or “better” from the outside, it’s okay if you’re still struggling on the inside. we’re all kind of making it up as we go.
Sorry for my brain dumb, but i felt like I needed to let my late night thoughts out somewhere.
on a happier note though. I really would love to connect more. and if anyone happens to have cute Jongho fics… please. I am desperately in need of them right now 🥺🤍
thank you for listening. and sorry for spelling issues, i just wanted to keep it real and didnt proof read this.
Excuse me while I stare at my screen in disbelief for a second 🥹🤍
I started this blog as a tiny little corner for my thoughts, my feelings, and my very intense ATEEZ fantasies. Just me, my notes app, and the urge to write stories at unreasonable hours. I never imagined that this “little hobby” would grow into something shared with so many people. People who read my words, wait for updates, send the sweetest asks, and somehow make this space feel like home.
Every like, reblog, comment, tag scream, and quiet late-night read means more to me than you probably realize. You’ve turned my writing into something alive. And the fact that 1.5k of you chose to stick around still feels unreal in the best way.
So first things first: thank you 🤍
For trusting my stories.
For loving my characters.
For letting me emotionally wreck you (lovingly, I promise).
For being patient when life gets busy and celebrating with me when I drop something new.
Now… because I’m incapable of celebrating alone, I want to do this together 🎉
✨ I want YOU to help me choose what I write next.
Do we lean into another soft, cozy fic that feels like a warm drink on a cold night?
Do we go absolutely unhinged with an AU? (mafia… fantasy… something dramatic and dangerous?)
Do we want more drabbles, more series, or a long fic that slowly destroys us over several chapters?
Tell me:
which member you’re craving right now 👀
which tropes you’re weak for
and whether you want soft comfort, slow burn pain, or full emotional chaos (no judgment)
And looking ahead… how do you want us to celebrate the next year together?
More polls where you control my fate?
Monthly themes?
Surprise drops when you least expect them?
More asks, headcanons, little rambles about my writing process?
This blog has never felt like just mine. It’s always been something we’re building together—and I want to keep that energy going into the next year.
So talk to me 🤍
Send me asks.
Yell in the replies.
Be dramatic. Be specific. Be soft.
Thank you for making my small hobby feel big in the best way. Thank you for being here, for reading, and for loving these stories as much as I do.
Here’s to 1.5k, to many more late nights writing, and to whatever we create next. Together ✨🫶
okay besties, mini rant + context before I drop a teaser because I need to get this off my chest first 😤
I’m honestly so frustrated right now. I’m leaving this Wednesday for a business trip, which already sucks because it cuts right into my perosnal plans, but it somehow got even worse.
I just had to wrestle with my boss boss because of the flight situation. Every. Single. Man. on this trip got booked into business class.
And me? ✨economy✨
And do you wanna know the reasoning they actually said out loud?
Because I’m 1,55 cm (5'1) and “don’t need as much space.”
Yeah. 🙂
So that was fun to hear. Very cool. Very respectful. Love that for me. But I annoyed them so long they rebooked it. Normally I don't have a problem flying economy, but when every men gets a business class seat and the only women doesn't??? Do I sense injustice?
ANYWAY....because I refuse to let this week completely ruin my mood:
I’ve already been working on the new Yunho fic, and since I’ll be gone soon and updates might slow down a bit, I didn’t want to disappear without giving you something.
So I decided to share a real teaser. Not just vibes. An actual part from the fic so you can get a proper first impression of the story, the tone.
Teaser
Yunho had learned, over the past six months, that working with children required three things: patience, energy, and the ability to smile even when your feet ached and your shift technically ended twenty minutes ago.
Luckily, he had all three.
“Okay, one at a time,” he said, crouching slightly to meet the eye level of the small boy gripping the safety bar of the ride with white-knuckled determination. “You’re going to do great, okay? It doesn’t even go that fast.”
The boy nodded, lip wobbling just a little, and Yunho gave him a thumbs-up before securing the belt and stepping back. The ride operator beside him gave him an amused look.
“You’re too good at this,” she said. “You sure you’re not already a teacher?”
Yunho laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not yet. Still studying.”
The ride began to move, gentle and circular, colorful lights flickering on as music chimed through hidden speakers. Yunho straightened, scanning the area automatically. Parents watching from benches, kids waving wildly, balloons bobbing in the air.
And then, like clockwork, he saw her.
She stood just beyond the ride’s entrance, oversized head tilted slightly as she waved at a group of children passing by. The mascot costume was bright and soft-looking, something cheerful and round, designed to be approachable rather than impressive. Its arms moved animatedly, gestures exaggerated, body language warm and playful.
Yunho felt his shoulders relax without him realizing it.
“Hey,” he called, raising a hand.
She turned instantly, spotting him with ease despite the crowd. The mascot lifted both arms dramatically, as if surprised, then shuffled over in that slightly awkward way that came with wearing a bulky costume.
“You’re late today,” Yunho said, mock-accusatory. “I was starting to think you ditched me.”
She placed a padded hand against her chest, feigning offense, then shook her head vigorously. The movement made the costume wobble slightly, and Yunho laughed.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “My bad.”
She leaned closer, lowering her head conspiratorially. Her voice came out muffled but clear enough, warm and familiar.
“I got stuck helping with photos,” she said. “You would not believe how many kids wanted to pull my ears today.”
Yunho winced in sympathy. “That should be illegal.”
She nodded solemnly, then pointed at the ride, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Busy?” she asked.
“Always,” Yunho replied. “But it’s fine. I kind of like it.”
She tilted her head again, something she did often when listening and Yunho felt that small, familiar tug in his chest. He didn’t question it anymore. It had been there for months now, quietly settling into his routine like it belonged.
Six months ago, he hadn’t even noticed the mascots much. They’d been background noise, part of the scenery. Then one afternoon, during an unusually slow shift, she’d stopped by the ride and made a joke about how he looked like he was one crying child away from quitting his job.
He’d laughed. She’d laughed.
And somehow, that was it.
They talked whenever their schedules overlapped. During breaks, between ride cycles, in stolen minutes when the park wasn’t too crowded. Sometimes it was about work. Sometimes it was about nothing at all. She had a dry sense of humor, the kind that crept up on you, and a gentleness that showed most when she interacted with kids. Yunho had watched her kneel down to talk to a frightened child, her big padded hands moving carefully, her voice soft and reassuring.
He’d thought about that moment more than he probably should have.
“You working late again?” she asked now.
Yunho nodded. “Yeah. Group project meeting tomorrow probably.”
She made a sympathetic noise. “Those are the worst.”
“You don’t even know,” he said. “I got paired with someone I’ve never talked to.”
She perked up. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Yunho continued, leaning against the ride’s control panel as he watched the children circle past. “She’s quiet. Keeps to herself. I don’t think i ever heard her name.”
The mascot went still.
Yunho didn’t notice.
“I mean,” he added quickly, “she seems nice. Just… shy, I guess.”
She nodded slowly, then gave him an encouraging pat on the arm, soft padding against his sleeve.
“Well,” she said gently, “maybe she just needs time.”
Yunho smiled. “Yeah. Maybe.”
The ride slowed to a stop, and Yunho stepped forward to help the kids off, waving at parents and offering high-fives. When he glanced back, the mascot was already moving away, called over by a handler.
He watched her go for a second longer than necessary.
Y/N removed the mascot head backstage with a quiet exhale, pushing damp hair away from her face. Her cheeks were warm. Not just from the heat inside the costume, but from the familiar flutter in her chest that refused to calm down.
Six months.
Six months of this.
She sat down on the bench, staring at the floor as she replayed the conversation in her head—every word, every tone, every careless comment Yunho had made without knowing who he was talking to.
She’s quiet. Keeps to herself.
Y/N laughed softly under her breath, hugging the mascot head closer to her chest.
Yeah. That sounded about right.
Earlier that week, the lecture hall buzzed with low conversation as students filtered in, laptops opening, notebooks flipping pages. Y/N slipped into her usual seat near the middle, careful not to draw attention to herself. She preferred it that way. Observing rather than participating, listening rather than speaking.
She took her notes neatly, eyes on the professor, even as her heart gave an involuntary stutter when Yunho entered the room.
He sat a row ahead, laughing quietly with his friends, tall frame impossible to miss. Y/N forced herself to look away, fingers tightening slightly around her pen.
To Yunho, she was just another student.
To Yunho, she didn’t exist.
And somehow, she told herself, that was okay.
Because at Lotte World, behind foam and fabric and a muffled voice, she existed more than she ever had before.
Y/N had learned how to disappear long before she ever realized she was doing it.
It wasn’t something she’d consciously decided, not at first. It started small. Choosing seats that were already half-hidden, lowering her voice when she spoke, offering help before anyone thought to ask for it. It became instinctive over time, like muscle memory. A way of moving through the world without taking up too much space.
At university, it was almost effortless.
She arrived early to lectures, slipping into the same seat every week: middle row, slightly off to the side. Close enough to see the board clearly, far enough not to be in the professor’s direct line of sight. She took notes meticulously, always leaving extra space in case someone needed to borrow a page later. She volunteered to share materials in group chats but never asked questions herself.
People liked her.
People just didn’t notice her.
And that was fine. Most days.
Y/N adjusted her notebook as the lecture hall slowly filled, her pen already uncapped. She could hear familiar voices up ahead. Laughter, chairs scraping, the easy noise of people comfortable with one another.
She didn’t have to look to know Yunho was there.
Her heart still betrayed her anyway, giving a small, traitorous flutter.
She focused on the front of the room, on the projector warming up, on the rhythm of her own breathing. She had work later at the park. A long shift in the costume. That thought grounded her. Behind fabric and foam, she didn’t feel like this. Didn’t feel small, or transparent, or painfully aware of her own existence.
Behind the costume, she was someone Yunho laughed with.
The professor cleared his throat, drawing the room to order.
“Today,” he began, “we’ll be assigning partners for your final project.”
Y/N’s grip tightened slightly around her pen.
Group projects weren’t new to her. They usually went the same way: she did most of the organizing, the background work, the quiet fixing of things that went unnoticed. She didn’t mind. Or at least, she told herself she didn’t.
Names began to be called.
Pairs formed across the room, chairs shifting, murmured reactions following each announcement. Y/N listened absently, writing down her own name at the top of a fresh page, already preparing herself to adjust to whoever she was assigned to.
Then—
“Y/N and Yunho.”
For half a second, Y/N thought she’d imagined it.
Her brain stalled, the words echoing strangely in her ears. She looked up before she could stop herself, eyes snapping forward.
Yunho blinked.
Once. Twice.
He leaned slightly toward Hongjoong, brows knitting together in confusion.
“…Who?” he whispered, not quite quietly enough.
Hongjoong shrugged. “No idea.”
Y/N felt heat creep up her neck.
Yunho turned more fully now, glancing around as if expecting someone obvious to respond. His gaze skimmed past her...over her, really....without stopping. He laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck.
“I didn’t even know there was someone named Y/N in this lecture,” he said, half-amused, half-genuinely baffled.
San snorted. “Harsh.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Yunho protested quickly. “I just—”
“I mean,” Wooyoung added, twisting in his seat, “this class is huge.”
Y/N stared at the lines of her notebook, the words blurring together.
She knew he hadn’t meant it cruelly. That almost made it worse.
She’d perfected being unmemorable. Hearing it confirmed out loud, casually, like an afterthought. It stung in a quiet, hollow way she didn’t quite have a name for.
She swallowed, forcing her breathing to even out.
It’s okay, she told herself automatically. You’re fine.
People-pleasing reflexes kicked in before emotion could catch up. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t draw attention. Don’t make him feel bad.
The lecture continued, but Y/N barely absorbed it. Her thoughts spiraled instead. How would she introduce herself? Would he feel uncomfortable? Embarrassed? Would he apologize?
She didn’t want an apology.
She just wanted this to go smoothly.
When class finally ended, the room erupted into movement. Chairs scraped back, conversations resumed.
Y/N stayed seated.
She always did. Leaving in the first wave felt too conspicuous, like announcing her presence to a room that had never really seen her to begin with. So she packed her things slowly, methodically, giving her hands something to do while her thoughts ran ahead of her.
Yunho was still sitting in front of her.
He leaned back in his chair slightly, phone in hand, talking quietly to his friends.
“I swear,” he said under his breath, “I’ve never noticed her before. How did I miss someone who’s been in this class all semester?”
Wooyoung snickered softly. “Maybe you should start paying attention instead of zoning out.”
San hummed thoughtfully. “She’s probably just quiet.”
“Still,” Yunho muttered. “Feels kind of bad now.”
Y/N closed her notebook.
Her heart beat a little faster. Not from anger, not even really from hurt, but from the weight of being right there. Of knowing she’d heard every word and still needing to be the one to step forward.
She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Then she reached out and gently tapped Yunho on the shoulder.
Yunho turned around mid-sentence.
And froze.
Because there she was, right behind him. Close enough that he could see the careful way she held herself, the polite tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled slightly into the strap of her bag.
She’d been sitting there the entire time.
“Oh—” Yunho started, then stopped.
Heat rushed to his face immediately.
Hongjoong bit his lip, clearly holding back a grin. Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled with barely-contained amusement. San coughed suspiciously into his hand.
Y/N gave a small smile. Not awkward. Not offended. Just… gentle.
“Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Y/N.”
Silence.
Yunho stared at her for a second too long before scrambling upright in his seat. “I—wow, um—hi. Hi.” He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered now. “You—you were sitting here?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
Another beat.
“Oh,” he said again, quieter this time. “You heard…?”
She hesitated for half a second, then nodded once more. “It’s okay,” she added quickly, instinctively smoothing things over before he could spiral. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
Wooyoung leaned in slightly, stage-whispering, “Smooth, Yunho.”
Yunho shot him a look that was half mortified, half pleading. “Please.”
San smiled apologetically at Y/N. “We’re not always like this.”
She shook her head faintly. “It’s fine.”
Yunho cleared his throat. “I’m—really sorry. I didn’t realize. I should’ve—”
“It’s really okay,” she repeated, softer but sincere. “I just wanted to introduce myself. Since we’re partners.”
“Right. Yes. Partners.” He nodded a little too fast. “I’m Yunho.”
“I know,” she said, and this time, there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
That seemed to calm him, just a little.
“Um,” Yunho continued, glancing at her bag, then back at her face. “Do you want to exchange numbers? For the project, I mean.”
Her heart fluttered, traitorous and immediate.
“Sure,” she said.
They both pulled out their phones at the same time, fingers fumbling slightly as they unlocked screens. Yunho typed carefully, double-checking the name before handing his phone over so she could confirm.
“There,” he said. “That’s mine.”
She nodded, saving it.
“I’ll message you later.” He said.
“Yeah,” y/n replied. “That sounds good.”
As she stepped back, Hongjoong leaned toward Yunho with a quiet smirk. “See? She exists.”
Yunho groaned, dropping his head briefly onto his folded arms.
Y/N watched the interaction with a small, almost fond expression. Then turned and left the row, slipping out of the lecture hall the same quiet way she always did.
Only this time, her phone felt heavier in her pocket.
And Yunho knew her name.
The inside of the mascot costume was quieter than the park outside.
Y/N sat on the bench backstage, still half-dressed in layers of padding and fabric, the oversized head resting beside her like a silent witness. The muffled sounds of Lotte World filtered through the walls. Laughter, music, the distant hum of rides, but here, everything felt muted, slowed.
She pulled her phone from the pocket sewn carefully into the costume and let the screen light up the dim room.
His name sat near the top of her messages.
Yunho.
Her thumb hovered for a second before she tapped the chat open.
Yunho: tomorrow works for me!
Yunho: we can meet at my place if that’s okay?
Yunho: it’s a shared house though—hope you don’t mind 😅
She stared at the messages longer than necessary.
His place.
His home.
A house he shared with his friends. The same ones she’d watched laugh around him in lectures, the same voices she sometimes heard faintly when they came to the park and waited for him after his shifts. She imagined walking into that space, imagined standing in a room where Yunho was comfortable, where he belonged.
And she imagined herself there, shoes by the door, hands clasped together, trying not to take up too much room.
Y/N: that’s okay
Y/N: tomorrow sounds good
She sent the message before she could overthink it.
The reply came almost immediately.
Yunho: great!
Yunho: I’ll text you the address later
Yunho: thanks for being flexible
Flexible.
She smiled faintly at that.
Y/N leaned back against the wall, phone resting on her chest as her gaze drifted to the costume head beside her. Ist painted eyes stared back cheerfully, permanently bright, permanently confident.
Six months.
Six months of easy conversations, shared jokes, quiet moments stolen between rides. Six months of Yunho talking to her without hesitation, without confusion, without surprise...because behind this costume, she was someone he’d noticed.
Someone he’d chosen to talk to.
Her chest tightened.
Because tomorrow, she would sit across from him as herself. No fabric to hide behind. No muffled voice. No playful anonymity. Just Y/N....the girl he hadn’t noticed for years, the name he hadn’t recognized when it was called out in class.
The girl who’d heard him say, out loud, that he didn’t even know she existed.
She closed her eyes briefly.
It’s fine, she told herself, the same way she always did. You wanted this. You wanted to work with him.
That was true.
She’d wanted to work with him. To talk to him. To be close to him, even in this small way. She’d told herself that was enough. That she didn’t need more, that it was okay if he never looked at her the way he laughed with the mascot.
But now there was tomorrow.
Now there was his house, his couch, his easy smile directed at her.
And he still didn’t know.
Didn’t know that the girl he joked with at work was the same one who sat quietly behind him in lectures. Didn’t know that the voice he’d grown fond of belonged to someone he’d once overlooked entirely.
Y/N picked up the mascot head, turning it slowly in her hands.
Behind this, she was brave.
Behind this, she was funny. Warm. Someone Yunho leaned toward without thinking.
She wondered what would happen when those two worlds touched.
Her phone buzzed again.
Yunho: oh—and don’t worry
Yunho: my friends are nice, I promise
She smiled at that, small and soft.
“I know,” she murmured to the empty room.
Because she’d seen them before.
Because she’d heard them tease him.
Because she’d been there all along...just unseen.
Outside, a handler called her name, reminding her it was almost time to go back out.
Y/N stood, slipping the mascot head back into place. The world dimmed immediately, narrowing to mesh and padding and familiar comfort.
When she stepped back into the park, Yunho was already at his ride, glancing up as if he’d been waiting.
He lifted a hand in greeting.
She waved back, exaggerated and bright.
And just like that, she was someone he knew again.
Teaser End
This fic already means a lot to me, and even though I’m stressed, tired, and mildly feral over corporate nonsense, writing it has been my comfort. I hope this little preview can be the same for you 🩷
Please tell me whst you think of it in the comments, texts or asks.
And the winner is the first story with the college Slow burn and angst.
I need to be honest with you about this one.
This story is heavy. It’s full of angst. It doesn’t romanticize toxic behavior. The kind that chips away at you slowly.
The reason I never posted it before is because I wasn’t sure I was ready. I’ve experienced domestic violence myself, and parts of this story are written from that place. From memory. From feeling. From things I wish someone had told me back then.
So this one is personal.
It’s about noticing.
It’s about someone gently reminding you of your worth when you’ve forgotten it.
And it’s about love that protects instead of controls.
The draft has been sitting in my files for months. Maybe it was waiting for the right moment. Maybe it was waiting for you to choose it.
I’ll edit it carefully. And when it’s ready, I hope it feels healing, not just painful.
Thank you for trusting me with stories like this 🤍
i didn’t plan to start something new but this fic kind of… found me. Or was requested a lot by a lovely anon.
and now it refuses to let go.
it’s a yeosang fic.
it starts very small. very quiet.
a girl who lives alone.
a tiny dog who follows her everywhere.
a neighbor who barely speaks and fixes her internet in two minutes.
cookies, tiramisu, awkward hallway conversations.
and then christmas comes.
and everything breaks.
this one is soft, slow, and a little painful. it’s about loneliness, kindness, and what happens when you feel safe with someone who lives in a world you were never meant to see.
antisocial hacker yeosang.
civilian y/n.
mafia ateez.
hurt/comfort that hurts.
i’m really excited (and a little scared) to share this with you, but i think you’re going to feel it the way i do. This story hits a little home because I see myself in Y/n a lot if I hadn't found my personal "Found Family".
Work has been a bit overwhelming lately, so I’ve been a little quieter than usual. I am hoping to upload a new fic this weekend though, if everything goes well 🤞🏼 thank you for being patient with me.
Korea is… complicated for me. Being here always puts me in a weird, sour mood, but at the same time it also brings me so much joy. I love the atmosphere of the city, the lights, the energy, the way everything feels alive... but I also often feel really out of place here.
Especially as a woman. Some men really don’t understand boundaries, and that can be exhausting and unsettling.
And even though I’m surrounded by people every single day, I still feel incredibly alone sometimes. It’s a strange kind of loneliness that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
I also had a really rough day yesterday and honestly ended up crying myself to sleep. I’m okay now, just a little fragile.
Also whenever I stop posting for a few days, my brain immediately tells me I’m failing, that I’m letting people down.... even though I know that’s not true and that rest is normal and human. Still, the feeling is there, and I wanted to be honest about that.
Thank you for always being so kind, patient, and understanding with me. Please know that I appreciate every single one of you more than I can put into words. I’ll be back with soft words and stories soon 🫶🏼
