Cried Over College Again BUT Haikyuu. So Yeah👍

origin of baby

*SPOILERS FOR THE TOTK DRAGON QUEST*

I drew this as an excuse to draw Zelda in her new dress and then that never happened. ALSO THANK YOU @katydoodles FOR DOING THE BACKGROUNDS <3

little bit of cognitive dissonance here,

[9:37 A M] Sakusa Kiyoomi

Just a short drabble - short, sweet and smutty Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Warning: smut; fluff . Only very few have ever seen Sakusa Kiyoomi’s teeth.

Haters will say he’s got a mouthful of crooked teeth. That’s why he’s always hiding behind a mask or has resting-asshole-face.

Little do they know…

Sakusa Kiyoomi has the straightest and whitest teeth.

Any dentist would beg to ask him to be their model for their clinic.

Throughout your three-year relationship, you possess only a small collection of photographs capturing those rare split-second instances when Kiyoomi flashes a smile, showcasing his teeth. However, these precious images remain exclusively for your eyes, as you have chosen to keep them private.

You had set a particular photo as your lock screen, and during a romantic couple’s getaway, your girlfriend momentarily caught a glimpse of it. To your surprise, she gasped, her voice filled with suspicion, “are you… cheating Y/n?”

The accusation caught you off guard, and a frown formed on your face as you responded firmly, “no.” The question offended you; you took your relationship with Kiyoomi seriously and would never entertain the thought of cheating on him. Ever.

“Then who is that man on your lock screen? That’s not Sakusa-kun.”

Your head cocked to the side. “What?” And then it hit you; they have never seen your boyfriend smile with teeth. “It’s… no, I’m not cheating.”

She wasn’t convinced. “Cheating is bad, Y/n.”

You burst out laughing, “I’m not cheating, I promise.”

Fortunately, she let the matter go, ultimately placing her trust in you and believing you were faithful to your boyfriend.

Later that night, you muffle your moan with one hand as Kiyoomi slams his hips into yours. He knows you love it when he stuffs your pussy with his entire cock. He finds it as exhilarating as you do to hear the lewd sounds of skin slapping and echoing in the whole room.

His strong arms hook behind your knees, and he presses them into the futon. With your flexibility built up from doing yoga for years, Kiyoomi loved bending you in all ways possible to feel deeper and closer to you.

“What’s wrong?” His chest is pressed against yours. “You’ve been quiet all evening after dinner with your girlfriend.”

You thread your hand through his curls before locking your arms around his neck and shoulder, “Ina saw my lock screen, and it’s a picture of you and me, and she didn’t recognize you. She thinks I’m cheating on you.”

Kiyoomi frown; hips stop pounding into you. “What picture?”

You reach over to grab your phone, showing him the picture on your screen.

As he caught sight of the photo, he burst into laughter, recalling the time you had jokingly mentioned how he seemed like a different person when he smiled with his teeth. Teasingly, he asked, “but are you cheating on me, though?” He rolled his hips in a slow deep thrust, making you moan.

You pull him down for a kiss, “I suppose I’m cheating on you with smiling Omi.”

Kiyoomi flashed one of his smiles with teeth and dimples – one that he knows always makes your heart flip. And pussy clenching.

.

The following day, Ina’s eyes narrowed at the fresh red mark on your neck.

“Stop staring.” You muttered, cheeks heating up. You had explicitly told Kiyoomi not to leave a mark in the most conspicuous spot, yet there it was, a noticeable mark right where you had warned him not to leave one.  

“You and Sakusa had a good night,” Ina’s boyfriend laughs. He nudges Ina, “this girl knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.” He looks at the empty spot beside you, “where is he?”

“He’s coming.” You answered, adjusting the scarf around your neck.

“Who?”

The three of you glance up to see Kiyoomi without a mask. He smiles at everyone with his teeth. “Morning, guys.”

“Mor – morning…” Ina muttered, eyes bulging. She looks at you, “that picture on your home screen is Sakusa-kun?”

. . .

E/n: nothing edited - it's a long day of work for me so I needed to release some stress. Yes, I need to get back on Wipe Your Eyes lol

>>>@hellatrashdontask @queenelleee @wrongimagine @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @satoritendoucultsacrifice @yourgonvermnethooker @littlemochi @cloud-lyy @pana-dolle @basmamme @haitanifxn @itsroseally @warrior-of-justice @jmnfilter @captainchrisstan @omissanitizerlol

omi and his girly little gf <3

he thinks you’re so PRECIOUS. when he first saw you walking across campus with your nails done, shorter than most of your friends, dressed well and in pink he couldn’t stop thinking about you. atsumu had to snap him back into the conversation. kiyoomi thought that you looked like a pretty princess.

when you two become friends and talk more, he’s a little more obvious about it. when you get your nails done or ask him if he likes a skirt you got he always compliments how well it suits you, that pink is your colour!!

if you’re black, and you add pink into your braids/ dreads/ locs/ twists he thinks you look like an absolute FAIRY!!! you come back from the salon [ he wanted to come see you. he swears he did. but you didn’t let him for the ‘surprise’ of it): ] his mouth curls into a smile and his dimples are on display, he gets up from his spot on the sofa and asks if he can touch them. he clears some of the hair from your face and he places a feathery kiss on your forehead , “it’s not fair, how pretty you are,” he says.

kiyoomi just loves when you have french tips. he loves it. especially when the base is a pale pink colour, and the tips are just a crisp white. he loves how it contrasts with his black rings as he holds your hand. his heart flutters when your little, neat palm can only wrap around a few of his fingers. he loves how your manicured thumb rubs against his battered knuckles - it makes him feel dizzy.

he loves when you wear skirts or get new ones, he always twirls you around like you two were slow dancing. he’ll chuckle along with you when you giggle, “i think this one’s my favorite now,” he said to you ; although he’s said that about all 7 of the skirts.

don’t you dare try to do anything when you’ve just gotten your nails done. laundry? he’ll help. you wanna make yourself smth to eat? nah, he’s got it. you wanna shower??? why????? he’ll just clean you🤞🏻🤞🏻. his big sister used to complain about having to do things with her nails on and he’d never let his sweet little princess do anything by herself ):

omi would absolutely let you do his makeup if you wanted to try a new makeup look. you sit him down, putting his bouncy curls in a little bun and then priming his face. his cheeks smush and squish as your small hands work on him gently. he can’t help the warmth in his chest when he feels that you’re making a conscious effort to be gentle when you’re soaping down his eyebrows or blending out the highlight. his favorite is when you put on mascara- the way your index finger tilts his chin upwards and you mutter a ,’ look up f’ me, kiyo’ in the most sugary sweet tone he’s ever heard. he replies with a simple , ‘ ‘kay’ that could never give away the butterflies in the pit of his belly.

lastly - he’s spoiling you ROTTEN. he’s got allll that athlete money for what???? you, obviously. you saw some pretty mary janes you wanna wear to work? done. you want new earrings? done. you want a necklace with his name on it? done. well, that part wasn’t a choice- but he’s still happy that you wanted it. if you two are out and you even say that something is cute , his immediate response is , “do you want it?” and he’s dead serious. even if it’s ridiculously over priced. if you’re someone who cries when they accept gifts i’m projecting i’m sorry consider his heart SHATTERED when he hears the break in your voice as you thank him. he’s coddling you, asking if you really hated the gift that much, but when you explain that it just overwhelms you he feels tears in his own eyes at how precious you truly are. his large hand caressing your head and the other rubbing gentle circles on your back, whispering to you that you deserve his gifts, his love, his patience because you give it back to him. you deserve to be a princess- his princess- forever</3333333

Osamu: Sorry about him.

Kiyoomi: YOU HEARD?!

Osamu: No, I just assume whenever ‘Sumu opens his mouth something horrible comes out.

Dead Poets Society (1989) dir. Peter Weir

The Knight’s Self-Destruction

The Knight’s Self-Destruction

by CloudBun (StarseedV)

It didn’t matter that his heart was breaking. That the Zora he loved was marrying someone else. That he sat there and watched him get married. Because at the end of the day Link knew he couldn’t allow himself to break. Allow himself to feel.

He had to find Zelda.

And then everything would be fine.

Or:

Link is majorly going through it, but refuses to ask for help. After learning of Zelda’s fate, Link’s journey finally takes its toll on him, and all of Hyrule is forced to come to terms with the burden their hero endures.

Link is Hyrule’s Hero, the knight who never backs down from any challenge, but what happens when the hero they all love is in need of rescuing from himself?

Words: 8556, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Link (Legend of Zelda), Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Sidon (Legend of Zelda), Yona (Legend of Zelda), Riju (Legend of Zelda), Tulin (Legend of Zelda), Yunobo (Legend of Zelda), Teba (Legend of Zelda), Purah (Legend of Zelda)

Relationships: Link/Sidon (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link (Legend of Zelda) & Everyone, Sidon & Yona (Legend of Zelda)

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, angst more in the first chapter, comfort comes later, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Dissociation, Derealiztion, Link is going through it, Teba is a dad, Queerplatonic Relationships, Survivor Guilt, Not explicitly stated by heavily implied, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags May Change, Spoilers for Tears of the Kingdom (Legend of Zelda), no yona hate, i will fight you, POV may change, Depersonalization

From https://ift.tt/16cBkIv https://archiveofourown.org/works/47696122

from my ao3 posts to you, inspired by Untouchable Things by bitterlikesweets https://archiveofourown.org/works/47382331

my art inspired by their work (featuring Link and Sidon):

BACKSEAT GIRL ; Atsumu x f!reader

As if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body, the shape of your soul. As if he doesn’t mold you like molasses underneath his fingertips, perpetuating his name into your being.

contains: f!reader, friends to lovers vibes, college au, mutual pining, heavily suggestive (hence me not tagging anyone from the gen taglist for this i'm sorry), non-sexual nudity (bathing together), no plot just one thousand words of atsumu miya being touch-starved

word count: 1.3k

You didn’t plan on taking him home.

But the words he murmured against the shell of your ear were a little too sweet and his kisses were a little too hungry; and maybe you’ve also dreamt a little too often about Atsumu Miya nudging your legs apart to slot himself between them while he pushes you against the nearest wall–until it all wasn’t a dream anymore. 

It feels forbidden. As if you’re not supposed to know what it feels like to run your fingers over the shaved part of his neck. Or how his canine teeth graze the skin on the side of your neck, leaving trails of faint red marks. Or the way his muscles flex when you slip your hands underneath his shirt to feel him closer. 

He’s just a guy who sits in front of you in class. Someone who occasionally asks you for a pencil or your notes just so he has a reason to turn around to you, who nudges your feet with his underneath the tables when you push them together for group work, who finds a lame excuse to linger behind when you’re too slow with packing up your bag after class, just so he can walk to the cafeteria together with you. 

Atsumu shouldn’t be here; with his hair still a little damp from the shower and naked from the waist up in your bed, in your arms. He’s like a weighted blanket on top of you, his face hidden in the small space between your neck and your shoulder, his hot breath fanning across your skin. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, giving it a slight tug whenever his shameless fingers dip underneath the waistband of your shorts, followed by an airy laugh against your collarbone. 

Just a kiss, you told yourself earlier in that dark corner you both found yourself in, his broad back shielding you from the eyes of anyone else at the party. It was as if he wanted you just for himself, something so easy to brush off as greedy. But there’s something else luring underneath the surface, underneath the carefully composed mask of brazenness he wears so well. You couldn’t figure out what it was, too dizzy from his kisses and his hands roaming your body, but now in the dim light and quiet of your bedroom you can see it so clearly. 

Atsumu is touch-starved.

It shows. There is his hand on the small of your back when he leads you outside through the crowd of people. His fingers interlaced with yours in the back of the cab after he reached over you to secure your seatbelt for you. The stolen kisses during the elevator ride up to your floor and the scowl on his face when the elevator door opened, interrupting you too soon. Him kneeling in front of you while he helps you out of your heels, nimble fingers brushing over your ankle before loosening the clasp for you. The love-drunk expression he gives you when you grab his chin between two fingers, tilting it up so he’d look at you. 

As if he’d ever take his eyes off you to begin with. 

Not when he unzips the back of your dress till it slips to the floor with a soft thud. Not when you push him towards the bed, his hands catching your hips to pull you on top of him. Not when you unbuckle his belt, his fingers digging in the flesh of thighs, his chest heaving with every breath you draw out of him. 

For someone who has never learned how to shut up in his entire life, Atsumu turns into a needy, whining mess underneath you. All coherent words seem to slip from his mind as badly as his self-composure. It’s like he’s pleading for your touch, to feel more of you, to have you fully, wholly, deeply. His hands grasp every part of you he can reach, sometimes gentle, mostly insatiable, always with utter adoration. As if you’re a dream that’ll crumble between his fingers when he blinks.

You bathe together afterwards–or you try, at least. It’s the night you learn that your bathtub is a little too cramped to hold you and someone of Atsumu’s size, but you make it work somehow with your back pressed against his chest, nestled between his legs, his hand splayed out over your stomach. His idle fingers draw small patterns against your skin and every now and then he leans down to press kisses against your shoulder, a low sound of affection rumbling in his chest when he does. 

He washes your hair for you even though you didn’t ask him to, slender fingers working through every bit of tension in your scalp. Part of you believes he does it just so he can charm out more of these sweet little sounds from you that he seems to love so much, but then he tips your head back to kiss you upside down, smiling against your lips, and you think that maybe you’re not the only one who has fallen in love a long time ago.

Atsumu holds perfectly still when you dry off his hair with a towel. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, legs spread to make room for you standing between them. Looking down, you try hard not to think about how he had you grinding against his thick thighs earlier but to be fair it’s impossible to forget how that made you feel, the pulsing still present. There’s his grin again and your stomach does a little flip. I love having you like this, Atsumu murmurs and tugs you closer to him by your waist before trailing countless kisses up from your stomach to the valley of your chest, honey colored eyes never leaving yours. 

As if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body, the shape of your soul. As if he doesn’t mold you like molasses underneath his fingertips, perpetuating his name into your being. 

If Atsumu was a braver man he’d tell you all about the way you make his heart stumble. How the thought of you being with anyone else makes his chest coil and tighten. That only you allow him a calmness so unfamiliar it scares him sometimes. But the words are stuck in his throat and just won’t come out.

Not yet. Not when it’s you.

Because with you everything is different. With you his prideful heart unravels so easily, finding shelter in your palms. You give all of his touch a meaning, as if everything before you was just hollow. Golden, he thinks. Your love feels golden. Shining bright like a hundred suns, igniting a flame within him. Atsumu has long fallen for you without even realizing it. He gets it now, sees it so clearly when you smile at him; that it’s you. It’s always been you. 

You both don’t bother getting fully dressed after your bath–there’s this unspoken unanimity that you won’t need these clothes for too long. Atsumu carries you over to the bed despite your protests, your laughter mingling with his when he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress and crawls on top of you again, half-crushing you underneath him. It’s a sound he wants to hear forever, paired with your playful shoves against his shoulder and your huffs and puffs, as if you didn’t hook your leg around his middle to keep him close to you. He kisses the side of your neck again, wondering where else he can leave his mark, and what waking up with you will feel like, and just how these three words will taste like once you lick them off his lips.

Ambrosial, he thinks. Just like you.

a/n: starting the year with an atsumu fic was not on my bingo card but here we are. @nekozaki hi ily this is mostly for you my liege