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hi i'm tami and i write mostly gay fics

[septembercfawkes]

[narita-kinoshita-ennoshita]

Okay but Tanaka going “u want to kiss me so bad it’s embarrasing” whenever Ennoshita asks him to not pick fights w other teams.

[zaintsee]

zaintsee; your heart is calling out (to me)

Title : Your Heart Is Calling Out (To Me) Fandom : Why R U Pairing : Zee/Saint Length : 17.3k words Rating : T Summary : In fact, sharing an umbrella with a good-looking stranger is not that bad. Zee appreciates everything around him; the umbrella, the company of someone he probably won’t ever see again, the raindrop atop his head that seems to fall in slow motion. It’s a damn perfect scene straight out of the movies, and it should’ve been flawless had Zee’s mouth not run on its own, saying: “This is wonderful. Will you marry me?”

[hobimoon]

Yoongi, pressing two loaf of bread on either side of Hoseok’s face: What are you?

Hoseok, giggling: Yours.

Yoongi, proud: Damn right.

Namjoon, beside the two: The. Fuck.

[rory]

with yachi vs. without yachi

karasuno’s volleyball team is so blessed to have yachi they’d be lost without her

[gomee-art-deactivated20201016]

i miss these two

[zaintsee]

Your proposal fic is one of the best fics I have ever read, is so cute, I really love it. Please write more 💕 thank you.

thank you so much for reading!! yes I’ll definitely write more of them hehe <3

[zaintsee]

fttt; the art of proposal

Title : The Art Of Proposal Fandom : Why R U Pairing : Fighter/Tutor Length : 2.2k words Rating : G Summary : Five times Fighter proposes to Tutor and one time Tutor beats him into it

[hedgehog-moss]

I like when an article thumbnail features a pic of a woman conductor, as it is the closest I will get to living in a world where newspapers write feel-good human-interest stories about a local witch who is proud to show off her new spell.

[zaintsee]

zaintsee; sport au

Prompt: Saint hurt their ankle and is laid up with a cast and crutches. Zee is sitting next to them, doodling little hearts on their cast to cheer them up.

Aka: the excuse for me to write zs as men double badminton player that would be sexc

It had happened so fast that Zee didn’t even have the time to fathom what was actually going on. They’re nearing the end of the third set of Swiss Open final match, and Zee and Saint only need two points to finally snatch the champion title.

That was the initial plan. The reality, though, doesn’t seem to side with them. One second, Zee saw Saint sending a difficult smash to return to the left side of their opponent’s court, and the next second Zee heard something hard fell against the hard surface of the court -- it’s Saint, grimacing in pain while holding his right ankle. Zee asks for a minute break after the referee gives the point to them -- now it’s game point, with them being the upperhand.

“Can you hold on? We only need one point,” Zee pants beside Saint, wiping the sweat on Saint’s forehead with the heel of his hand. “Do you need cold compress or something? Should we call the coach?”

“I’ll need it later,” says Saint, shooting Zee a grateful smile. “Come on, we have a fight to win. The pain is still endurable, no need to call the coach.”

“Your ankle doesn’t look good,” Zee still hesitates. He didn’t miss the painful expression Saint had a moment earlier, and there’s no way Zee would just let it slip. If anything goes wrong, Zee will lose a partner to play with.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.” Saint stretches his arm out, asking for help to stand on his feet. Zee reluctantly reaches out and pulls him up, once again checking the condition of Saint’s right ankle before looking up at him, concern is written all over his face.

Saint laughs at him. “Don’t look at me like that,” he playfully hits Zee’s butt his his racket. “One point. I will listen to your nags and whines after we won the title. Okay?”

Zee huffs, “’Kay. Fair enough.”

-

They won.

By a slim chance, and it nearly took everyone’s breath away (it already did). They struggled through deuce after deuce; luckily Zee saved them with his neat placement close to the net, twice.

People inside the stadium roar in celebration. Zee turns around to an armful of Saint, hugging him tight and saying thanks endlessly. Zee pats his back and runs a hand through Saint’s hair, ruffling it. His mind splits up into winning euphoria and Saint’s condition, and judging from how Saint leans his weight on him after he pulled away from Zee’s embrace further confirms Zee’s worry.

Their coach notices Saint’s limping walk but he takes his time congratulating his disciples first, hugging them both, praising them for their hard work.

“You have twenty minutes to rest until medal ceremony,” Coach says. “Cold compress is inside the cooler box in your changing room. We’ll head to the hospital as soon as we’re finished here.”

Zee steals a glance at Saint who nods obediently. They walk together to the changing room and their coach leaves to meet the reporters for a short interview in behalf of Zee and Saint -- Zee will not want to do it without Saint and Saint has endured the pain far too long to stay for interviews.

-

“It’s not that bad,” says Saint, moving his ankle up and down in slow movement. “Ow.”

“It’s bad. Your leg is swollen.” Zee presses the cold compress a little harder around the inflamed area, earning a loud yelp from Saint.

“Hey! Be gentle!”

“That’s for taking your injury lightly,” says Zee sternly. “What should we do? Will you be able to put on shoes for the ceremony? The podium is high too, should we ask for a stool so it’d be easier for you to get on?”

Saint laughs and grimaces afterward. “You’re being too much. Medal ceremony only takes ten minutes maximum, it won’t kill me. Putting on shoes may be a problem, but I don’t want to embarrass our country if I don’t wear them when they’re taking photos of us.”

Zee laughs. “You can wear mine, I have a spare. Your shoes are a tight fit and it can hurt your ankle, so wear a pair one size bigger than your usual ones.”

“Ooh, you’re taking care of me so well, Mister Pruk,” Saint smiles teasingly. “I’ll take that. Thanks.”

Zee sighs and squeezes Saint’s other knee with his free hand. Take care of yourself better. I’m worried. Saint’s eyes meet his, smiling reassuringly. I will need someone to constantly remind me, his eyes say. Zee will unquestionably be that person, whether or not Saint asks for him.

-

Zee thinks that Saint should be an actor if he doesn’t play badminton anymore. He stands proud and high on the podium, completely forgetting his ankle is swollen and probably throbbing painfully. Nobody will notice that Saint is in pain, looking from his bright and blinding smile when he receives the gold medal, a bouquet of flower, Swiss Open mascot doll, and when they take a lot of pictures of the pair with their symbolized prize money.

Zee knows better, so he stays close to Saint and feels the latter shifts to lean most of his weight on Zee when the cameras aren’t around.

The ride to the hospital is quiet. The eerie and tense atmosphere doubles up in intensity when Zee waits for the doctor to check up on Saint. The doctor lets him in after a suffocating twenty minutes of examination, and Zee’s heart is breaking to see Saint sitting on the hospital bed, legs wrapped in a cast up to his knee. A crutch is leaning on the side of his bed, and everything is obvious to the point it hurts.

“Hey,” Saint greets him bitterly. “I won’t be able to participate in any competition for at least three months. I’m sorry.”

Zee’s heart drops to his stomach. He walks up to Saint, sitting on the edge of his bed. “What are you sorry for, silly? Your health comes first. I don’t care how much time you need to rest, take it all and come back to me all fired up. Don’t ever scare me again like that.”

Saint exhales, taking Zee’s hand in his and fiddling with his fingers. “We need point to play in All England next year. We won’t collect enough points even after I start playing again, and we have to wait for the next All England.”

“Yes, so what? The season goes on throughout the whole year. Missing All England once is not the end of the world.”

“You’ve been targeting All England for three years. We failed again this year. I feel bad for you, P’Zee.”

“You feel bad for my personal target?” Zee blinks at Saint incredulously. “You’re silly. We’re playing as a team. Doesn’t matter if I’m targeting for All England, World Championship or Olympics. I won’t be able to do it without you, so focus on your healing first.”

Saint drops his gaze at his cast-wrapped leg, nodding. “Okay, and I won’t object if the coach want to pair you with someone else for the time being.”

“Not sure about that, I think this is the time I get my much deserved holiday.”

“You’re so annoying,” Saint sighs, but he’s smiling. “Thank you, P’Zee.”

“Anytime,” Zee responds, returning the smile. He gets up to his feet all of sudden, looking around the room to find a particular thing.

“What are you looking for?” asks Saint.

“Your bag,” answers Zee, eyes locked on the red bag laying on the couch in the corner of the room. “I want to do something to cheer you up.” He rummages through Saint’s bag until he finds what he’s looking for.

A permanent marker.

“Oh my god,” Saint facepalms, the sound of his groan is muffled against his skin. Zee has the marker on his hand and it doesn’t take long until he excites his inner Picasso self onto Saint’s cast -- he starts doodling hearts here and there, signing the cast, drawing Saint’s spirit animal (a bunny) beside his own spirit animal (a koala, Saint decides it for him). Zee seems to be enjoying creating his masterpiece a lot he doesn’t realize when their coach enters the room and signaling to Zee to go. Saint has to say to wait for his examination result.

“I’ll pick you up later,” Zee caps the marker and puts it on the table beside Saint’s bed. He glances at a phrase he wrote at the spot easiest for Saint to read, but he pretends like it’s nothing. Their coach notices it first, though, and he hits the back of Zee’s head playfully with a laugh.

“Come back soon. I don’t like being alone.”

“I will.” Zee gives his partner a brief side-hug and leans in to whisper, “I left you a painting. Take your time to appreciate each and every of them.”

Saint chuckles softly. “Of course, I have nothing better to do anyway. Have a safe ride.”

-

Coach gives Zee a knowing look as soon as they’re inside the car.

“In case both of you end up dating -- I have nothing against that, obviously -- do not neglect practice or I’ll act as a bad father who forces his son to break up with his boyfriend.”

Zee laughs.

(Zee wrote a Get well soon. From someone who loves you - more than a friend, more than a brother, and maybe a lover on Saint’s cast, at the spot where it’s easiest for him to read.)

[zaintsee]

day 7; zaintsee

day 1-6 can be found here

prompt: a death of someone close

When Domundi boys blow up Saint’s phone with messages telling him to get to Zee as soon as possible, Saint has no idea that he’d be presented such a painful sight the moment he arrives at Zee’s flat—Zee sits on the couch with his shoulders slumped down, hands trembling and face paler than snow.

Saint drops everything he holds with both hands to sit beside Zee, grabbing his hands in one swift move to feel how cold and sweaty his hands are.

“Phi, are you okay?”

Of course he’s not, but Saint has nothing better to say to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Zee looks up and turns his head to meet Saint’s eyes, and Saint can see sorrow is clouding Zee’s usually bright orbs. Saint lifts up a hand to touch Zee’s face, caressing his cheek with his thumb, transferring his body heat to Zee who later leans into his palm like he’s craving for Saint’s touch.

“My best friend passed away today in an accident. He’s someone I've known for almost two decades.” Zee says quietly, almost like a whisper. He closes his eyes and takes a quivering deep breath to stop himself from breaking down.

Oh. Saint drops his hand on Zee’s shoulders to carefully turn his whole body to him and pull the elder into a warm hug. Zee melts in Saint’s embrace immediately; breathing the scent of the younger on the skin under his earlobe as his arms find their way around Saint’s slim waist, locking him in position.

Saint doesn’t really know about Zee’s late friend personally but he knows how much they meant for his boyfriend. Zee never stops mentioning him in like, every conversation, almost as often as he mentions Saint when he’s talking to other people. His friend was Zee’s most trusted person other than Saint, a person who had seen Zee in his best and worst form long before he did.

Zee has two anchors in his life to keep him walking steadily, one is his late friend and the other is Saint. When he decided to open himself completely for Zee, Saint could almost physically feel how much Zee leaned the weight of his heart on him. It’s like Zee was waiting for someone to become the place he could run to, other than the friend whom he cherished a lot. Now that he’s lost one, it’s like Zee is losing one limb.

Saint pats his boyfriend on the back, tightening his embrace when Zee moves a little to a more comfortable position.

“My mom once said this: those we love never truly leave us. There are things that death cannot touch.”

Zee looks up to meet Saint’s eyes, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Like what?” he asks.

“Like memories,” Saint answers, absentmindedly stroking Zee’s arm gently. “Love,” he adds. “You can still love and remember someone even when they’re not physically present.”

Zee shakes his head. “It won’t be the same.”

“I know,” says Saint softly. He puts his thumb and index finger under Zee’s chin, tilting his head up. “I know it would not be easy. And that’s okay, take your time. But life goes on and you have to stand back on your feet again, it doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow, though. We’ll start again once you’re ready, and you know I’ll always be right here. With you. Okay?”

Zee blinks several times and nods. “Okay,” he whispers, but Saint hears it clear enough. “Okay.”

(“My mom also said that when you lose someone you loved, you gain an angel you know.”

“Your mom is right.”

“What?”

“I’ve found an angel I know. He’s here with me right now.”)

[yvesha]

(200312) Congratulations Loona on your very first music show win!! #LOONA1stWin 🌙❤️🏆

[zaintsee]

side!zenzon

“You like Zon, don’t you?”

Zen puts down his bottle of fruit flavored drink and blinks at Natee who gives him a small smile. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. If anyone else finds out, it won’t be coming from me.”

“I don’t--” Zen blinks again, a little confused but mostly terrified. It’s like Natee has seen through his most vulnerable side, like he has exposed his deepest secret he thought he’d hid it from everyone else but himself. But Natee reads people in the way it even surprises Zen sometimes; he keenly observes behind his loud voice and reckless act so nobody notices.

Zen does like Zon, it’s obviously not that kind of brotherly like and definitely more than just friends. He isn’t sure about how to put himself between his feelings and Zon, so he decides to keep it as quiet as a shadow. It works like magic; Zon stays close to him as a good friend, and no one in their circle of friends ever questions why he’s never taking portion in their daily bullying Zon and his plummeted writing career. Zen knows Zon is working so hard, and his time to shine probably hasn’t come yet.

It was good and all until the person named Saifah enters Zon’s life, and Zon turns into someone Zen doesn’t really know anymore. Despite the constant bickering and high tension when they meet each other, Zen knows there’s something else behind those eyes of Saifah when they’re looking at Zon, because he knows that stare all too well.

It’s the way he looks at Zon. The adoration, longing, hopes, everything is as clear as crystal and Saifah is already five steps ahead of Zen for his bravery to confront Zon with his feelings for the small boy alone.

What breaks his heart is, Zon doesn’t run away.

He seems confused and troubled at first, but later Zen finds out that it’s because he feels exactly the same with Saifah, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s a little afraid, but Saifah promises him a joyful adventure together, he promises to keep holding Zon’s hand and he’ll never let go. Zon trusts him.

And every time Zon gets pulled closer to the core of Saifah’s gravity and away from his own reach, something inside Zen cracks a little, creating a hole that leaving him feeling cold and empty.

(Only at that time had he realized how big Zon had taken a part of him.)

“Yeah, I like him.” Zen returns Natee’s smile with a bitter one. “I know he likes Saifah and we have to be blind to say Saifah doesn’t like him back. It’s okay. I’ve never planned to go anywhere with my feelings for him, anyway. I know he doesn’t feel that way towards me, and it would make our friendship awkward if he were to find out.”

Natee sighs, “You’re a good person,” he tells Zen. “Zon is lucky to have you by his side all this time, with us always making fun of his novel and such. I know he’s feeling safe around you, and he trusts you more than he does to the rest of us combined.”

“It’s because all of you are annoying,” Zen replies and Natee laughs. He knows Natee basically tells him that he’s indeed a good person, but it’s not the qualification Zon is looking for as his lover. Zon is comfortable with their current relationship and wanting more would cross the line and ruin everything between them.

“Don’t close your heart just yet. Love is everywhere, you’re just knocking at the wrong door right now.”

“I can’t believe I just heard that from you, out of everyone.”

Natee grins, “It’s my favorite line from Zol’s story’s latest chapter. But anyway, I’m telling you that in serious note, because you’re one of my best friends and I want all my best friends to be happy.”

Natee offers Zen a fist bump to which he gladly accepts. “Thanks, dude. I’ll let you know the progress, if it ever progressed sometime later, that’s it.”

“Take your time, and come to us when you’re ready.”

“Sure.”

Zen isn’t quite sure how to deal with this matter himself--falling in love with someone else sounds like a foreign idea and it has never crossed his mind before, and it was also like that with Zon. But it doesn’t hurt to try, Zen thinks. He can’t let himself mourn on his unrequited feeling for Zon forever, anyway.

(But he will be healed, and one day when he decides to tell Zon about the past, about today, there will be no regret. He’ll tell Zon because he’s now just as happy as Zon is, and he will jokingly tell him to keep this a secret from Saifah because he doesn’t want to get beaten up.

For now, it’s good enough like this.)

[pseudocodead-blog]

to all the lovely writers out there,

please continue writing. i know that having feedbacks help but please know that we all need more people like you. it doesn’t matter if you’ve only got a reader, or if you have none at all but never stop writing.

you may start badly now, but sooner or later, i know you’ll improve.

do not write for others, write for yourself. that’s the most important thing that you need to remind yourself. write whatever you want, whatever you like. write a story that you’ve always wanted to read. who the hell cares if you write about a flying dolphin with four arms or a girl who tries to get out of a wolf’s stomach- it’s your story.

remember: write for yourself. :]

[zaintsee]

xuanjoo; under the dim light

Title : Under The Dim Light Fandom : UNIQ Pairing : Yixuan/Sungjoo Length : 1746 words Rating : G Summary : Being with Sungjoo helps Yixuan relaxes a bit, resting from the uproarious competitive modeling world. Being with Sungjoo is calm, like having a cup of coffee in bare face after a long day of photoshoot under a thick layer of makeup. Being with Sungjoo is where Yixuan wants to be, most of the time.

yooo xuanjoo is back to the business (◕∇◕✿)

i was challenging myself to write this WHILE working on another wip and for some reason i finished this first, lol.

[jennstarkid]

About a week ago I posted this.

I’ve been getting horrible messages like this in my ask for months, including:

and my personal favorite

After getting the message saying “Just go kill yourself” I was completely done dealing with this person’s horrible messages and replied with just an “Okay.” and logged off tumblr.

About a week later I logged back on with 17 messages in my ask, most of them from the anon. I scrolled down and at first when I logged off, the anon messaged me things like

I scrolled up more and all of a sudden they started sending me more and more messages like

This was extremely surprising to me. I thought “After all those horrible messages you sent to me for MONTHS about hating me and wanting me dead, you say ‘sorry’ and that you ‘cant be responsible for someone’s suicide’?”

But I guess the lesson goes like this:

DONT TELL ANYONE TO KILL THEMSELVES UNLESS YOU ARE PREPARED FOR WHAT MIGHT ACTUALLY HAPPEN

[galaxywarrioress1234]

DON’T TELL ANYONE TO KILL THEMSELVES EVER.

[red-rioter]

THIS POST IS SO IMPORTANT I WANT EVERYONE ON TUMBLR IN THE WORLD TO SEE IT

[serenityhayashi]

This needs to be reblogged. I couldn’t scroll past this if I tried, I got a message like that but not for me, it told me to my friend to kill them self, I was livid! I didn’t answer it because a message like that doesn’t deserve an answer but I don’t see what is so funny about telling someone to kill them selves! I really don’t! It’s sick and it’s wrong. This person though, I take my hat off to you. You taught that bully a lesson.

[dressedlikeadaydrexm]

this.

[luna-bane]

This will always be number one on the list of things that aren’t okay

[lovelyseptics]

Ho-ly shit.

[mr-white-eyes-cosplay-deactivat]

I’ll never not reblog this

[norc-ara-deactivated20160821]

If you dare scroll without reblogging this you have no soul…….. i mean you do but reblogging this wont ruin your blog……. please just spread the word.

[anon-of-the-shadows-archive-dea]

Please people don’t send anon hate your just hurting yourselves…

[all-about-drarry]

Don’t tell anyone to kill themselves. EVER.

[rouge-fox-expanded]

A PSA we shouldn’t need, but we do…because some people are fucking horrible

[smileforjisoo]

tbh the real reason why I don’t ship jeongcheol is bc doyoon’s the REAL mama of seventeen