HQ Tsukishima - Blog Posts
Ultimamente tenho sentido que preciso inovar nas assinaturas, nada melhor do que treinar assinatura do que pegando o user dos seus amigos e fazendo assinatura pra eles né? Então cá estamos! NFWAOIFNAWOIN
Assinatura feita para @noromuwa utilizar no Social Spirit do personagem Tsukishima Kei, do anime Haikyuu!
Se inspire! Não copie! Créditos à ス pelas artes utilizadas e pelos donos dos recursos utilizados, os psd’s e texturas.
Capa para o desafio dos designers proposto por @littleyoonportfolio com o tema 9, no caso que é uma capa com elementos vintage, mas no fim acabou tendo o tema também de capas com manipulação o que foi mais divertido de editar do que imaginei?! Ai amei fazer capa manipulada USHAUSHAUH
Então do que se consiste o desafio dos designs Mafu? É simples, é um desafio que a cada dia, no total sendo 10 dias, nós temos que entregar designs de acordo com respectivas propostas.
Essa capa foi a pedido de uma amiga do Spirit que adorou a ideia de ter um plot Tsukihina envolvendo cafeteria retro e quando eu vi essa imagem feita por ス eu não pude deixar de imaginar eles dois sentadinhos em uma daquelas mesas antigas de café UHSAUHSAUHSA e acabou saindo essa capa, eu to apaixonadinha nela, se ninguém pegar eu vou pegar é para mim e escrevo um Tsukihina nem que eu tenha que falecer para isso! `w´
Ah claro, o nome da fanfic eu peguei inspirado na musica da Britney Spears com o Giorgio Moroder, “Tom’s Diner” e também me inspirei em “Beautiful Girl” do Sean Kingston (infância voltou com força USHAUSHA).
E é isso, se inspire! Não copie! Créditos à artista ス pela imagem Tsukihina utilizada e aos recursos utilizados, os psd’s.
Don’t Slouch (Tsukishima x Reader)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: You’ve got a bad habit. You know that. So why does that blond smartass in your class keep ragging you about it?
A/N: I’m tired, but I didn’t wanna forget this idea. I wasn’t even gonna write tonight, but we already here, so… voila. (Btw, thanks for the follows and likes!!)
Word count: 1074
“Slouching’s bad for you, you know.” Kei Tsukishima, the tall, skinny, blond volleyball player who sat in the desk next to yours, remarked. At first, you thought it wasn’t him who spoke, as he hadn’t even looked at you when he said it, but you knew his arrogant voice. It was one of a kind. When you glanced at his blank face, it was directed towards the bag on his desk, obviously searching for something as his long fingers sifted through papers.
“So?” you retorted lamely, your head upturned at him with a raised brow. Though, you couldn’t care less how you sounded. You just wanted to return to studying for midterms, but his sudden blurting made you feel obligated to respond.
“So don’t slouch,” he shrugged simply, pulling his headphones up over his ears and leaving the classroom for lunch. Scoffing confusedly, you shake your head and return to the books, subconsciously straightening out your back and dismissing the cracks that ran through it.
~~~
Eyes anxiously scanning over the test, you nervously searched for any mistakes you may have made on the answer sheet. Your forehead dripped with sweat, and your breathing grew heavy. Crap, why did tests always rile you up like this, especially the important ones? This sucked. Flinching when the alarm sounded, signalling you were out of time, you hesitantly rose from your desk and dragged your feet to the teacher’s desk, handing her your test with shaky, unsure hands before returning to your seat and ducking your head into your arms. The footsteps around you from your fellow classmates gathering their things and exiting the classroom did nothing to block out the snicker from beside you.
“You really should stop slouching so much. You’re going to ruin your posture.” Tsukishima, again, single-handedly irritated you once more in the blink of an eye. What an amazing ability he has for pissing you off.
Huffing out a breath, you reluctantly twisted your head to face him, muttering, “What’s it to you, glasses?”
“Just saying it’s a rather unhealthy habit of yours,” he mused, flashing you a small smirk while swiftly pushing his glasses up his nose. Returning his expression with a sarcastic smile of your own, you ran your middle finger down the side of your face discreetly before dropping your head back into your arms exhaustedly. Chuckling under his breath, the blond’s footsteps echoed throughout the room as he walked away, leaving you alone in your self-degradation over your estimated test results.
~~~
The boy just didn’t seem to know how to let things go. He had criticized you for your slouching in the last year more than he had ever conversed with you in the twelve years that you have known him. That’s right, you and Tsukishima have been going to the same schools since you were both in diapers. Truth be told, you weren’t friends, but you weren’t complete strangers either. Plus, he always seemed to be a lone wolf, at least until Yamaguchi came along. So, even though he rarely talked to you before your first year of high school, his tolerance of your slouching habit seemed to have reached the end of its rope. He haughtily reamed your ass over it every single time he got the chance. Finishing the remainder of your homework for the day? Oh you bet he’s just a-waitin’ over your shoulder.
“Would you like some advice?”
“Is it to stop slou-”
“Don’t slouch.” Insert your groan here. Was that the only Japanese this guy knew?
Maybe you’re just contentedly discussing movies with your friends? Yep, he’s got something to say.
“Hey, YN, what’s that one series called again?” he interrupted, “‘Slouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon?’”
“‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,’” you had corrected him tightly, jaw twitching in irritation. Eventually, you hit your boiling point; but hey, a little threatening never hurt anybody… right?
Four days ago:
“Hey YN?”
“Ughhh, what Tsukishima? What, what, what?”
“Stop slouching so much.”
“I swear I’m gonna strangle you one of these days, beanstalk.”
Two days ago:
“Don’t slouch.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t slouch so much. You look like the cat of a witch.”
“Oh my Go- you know what? I’m gonna castrate you. Slowly, at first, and then I’m gonna kick it up a notch. Just for you, beanpole.” You thought it was a grand idea, but he only laughed in your face and walked away. This guy’s gonna be the reason I have a drinking problem.
Yesterday:
“Don’t sl-”
You threateningly pointed at him with serious, wide eyes and raised brows. “I will snap you like a twig.” A chuckle. That’s all you got.
Finally, you had it. It was almost the end of the school year, and you just wanted to know why, even coming up with a theory of your own. But the question you believed you had the answer to still stood. Why did he keep bugging you about an issue that was definitely only yours to fix? So you caught him after school, and told him what you thought of his constant lectures. After all, they had kept you up all night last night, and maybe you had gone a little crazy, but you think you finally figured out why he was doing it.
“Hey.” You were following him down the steps of the school. “Hey Tsukishima!” you called, barely avoiding tripping over your own feet.
“What?” he responded gruffly, turning around to stare at you with obvious annoyance.
“I think I’ve figured out why you keep telling me to stop slouching.” Smiling victoriously, you nodded your head affirmatively at your own statement.
“Oh really?” he challenged with a heightened brow, a lopsided grin slowly forming.
“Yep. You’re just trying to tell me to stand tall. No matter what happens, what grade I get, or how I do on a test, you want me to keep my head high and my back straight. Before I figured that out, I thought it was annoying. Now, I think it’s really sweet of you-”
He rolled his eyes before he interrupted you with pink-tinged cheeks. “Psh, that’s not it. I just don’t want my future wife to have a hunchback when we grow old together.”
Oh.
Ohhhhhhh.
Jealously: Tsukishima
Tsukishima had never been the jealous type.
Or so he liked to believe.
But as he stood a few feet away from you at the museum’s fundraising gala, swirling the last bit of whiskey in his glass, he couldn’t help the slow simmer of irritation building in his chest.
Some guy—some obnoxiously confident guy—was standing way too close to you.
Tsukishima watched as the man leaned in just slightly, flashing a charming grin, his hand gesturing a little too animatedly for whatever mindless conversation he was trying to impress you with. You were polite, nodding at whatever he was saying, but Tsukishima caught the way your fingers curled slightly against the fabric of your dress—the telltale sign that you were uncomfortable.
His jaw clenched.
Tsukishima was a logical man. He knew you weren’t interested, knew you were his in every way that mattered—but that didn’t stop the irrational flicker of annoyance coursing through him.
So he drained the rest of his drink, set the glass down on the nearest table, and made his way over.
“Excuse me,” his voice came out smooth, a fraction lower than usual as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. His hand rested just above your hip, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a silent claim. Mine.
You blinked up at him, momentarily surprised, before a small smile tugged at your lips.
The man, however, didn’t seem to take the hint. “Oh, I was just having a great conversation with—”
“She’s not interested.”
There was no venom in Tsukishima’s tone—just a matter-of-fact finality that left no room for argument.
The man blinked, looking between the two of you before finally stepping back with a sheepish laugh. “Ah… right. My mistake.”
He made some excuse to leave, and as soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Tsukishima with an amused look. “Jealous, Kei?”
He scoffed, adjusting his glasses. “You’re delusional.”
“Oh, sure,” you teased, poking at his chest. “That wasn’t possessiveness at all.”
Tsukishima exhaled sharply, but his arm around your waist didn’t loosen. If anything, his grip on you tightened.
“…I just didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he muttered.
Your teasing softened. Tilting your head, you leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I only look at you, you know.”
Tsukishima’s eyes flickered to yours, something unreadable behind his gaze. Then, as if satisfied with your answer, he let out a small “Tch,” and pulled you even closer.
“…Good.”
Rivals: Tsukishima
Tsukishima adjusted his glasses, that infuriating smirk curling on his lips as he glanced your way. “You know, for someone who talks so much, you don’t actually do much worth noticing.”
You let out a sharp snort, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a real reaction. “Says the guy whose biggest skill is standing there and pretending he’s better than everyone.”
He tilted his head slightly, the smirk deepening like he was enjoying every second of this. “Pretending? That’s cute. I didn’t realize you thought I had to try.”
You crossed your arms and stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Wow, you're exhausting to be around. Is it lonely being this much of an asshole?”
His chuckle was dry, almost condescending, as he leaned in just enough to make your breath hitch. “Oh, don’t worry about me. It’s nice having peace and quiet—something you clearly wouldn’t understand.”
Your glare sharpened, but you refused to back down. “Yeah, because your personality screams ‘quiet and peaceful.’ You’re just bitter because I don’t let you get away with your holier-than-thou act.”
Tsukishima’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained. “Bitter? Please. If I cared what you thought, I’d have to actually take you seriously first.”
You met his gaze, your smirk finally matching his. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. We both know I live rent-free in that big head of yours.”
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, his smirk faltered before coming back sharper than ever. He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Living there? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re more like an annoying commercial I can’t skip.”
You stepped even closer, now toe-to-toe with him, your voice just as low and taunting. “Funny, because for someone who doesn’t care, you sure love watching.”
For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you practically crackling with tension. His gaze flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, his smirk wavering in a way that almost looked—what, unsure? No way. This was Tsukishima, the king of snark. But the silence was heavy, loaded with something neither of you seemed willing to name.
“Uh… Am I interrupting something?”
Both of you jumped, heads snapping to the side where Yamaguchi stood awkwardly in the doorway, clutching a volleyball and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His wide eyes darted between the two of you, a light pink dusting his cheeks.
“What are you—” Tsukishima started, his usual dry tone already creeping in, but Yamaguchi cut him off, holding up a hand like he was afraid to hear more.
“Don’t even explain. I’m good. I just… Daichi’s looking for you two, so, uh… maybe deal with that? Whenever you’re done… whatever this is.” He disappeared around the corner so fast it was like he was never there.
You blinked, heat creeping up your neck as you realized just how close you and Tsukishima were standing. He stepped back first, casually adjusting his glasses like the moment had never happened. You, on the other hand, couldn’t resist.
“Guess that’s your cue to stop glaring at me like I ruined your life, Tsukishima,” you quipped, raising a brow as you crossed your arms.
Tsukishima shot you a sidelong glance, his usual smirk and condescension firmly in place. “I only look like that when someone’s wasting my time.”
You scoffed, turning on your heel with a grin. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.” You headed down the hall, leaving him to follow, still glaring at your back.
Favourite Positions: Tsukishima
Kei has always loved your ass.
Even before you were together, he never could stop himself from sneaking a glimpse and hating how good your ass looked in your uniform as you stormed away from him. The shape, the perkiness, everything about it drove him crazy.
Probably why he loved fucking you from behind.
“Kei…!” Your voice is muffled from the bed, but your pleasure could be heard loud and clear as he piled into you. The room filled with the sound of his hips slapping your ass, with Kei reveling in the recoil with each thrust. “Sorry, I can’t hear you. What?” Kei purposefully evens his voice to sound unbothered, even though he himself is fighting the urge to groan. He loved teasing you like this, and he could tell you loved it too, considering the squeezes you keep giving him. “Keep going!” You managed to squeal out, turning your head to the side. Kei then stops abruptly, just long enough to hear your whimpers and whines before he smacks your ass, grabbing it at its fleshiest. “Is that how we ask?” Kei knew his tone was cocky, and even though that’s what made you hate him in the first place, it was also what made you jump into bed with him. “Please! Fuck me!” The desperation in your voice is something Kei would definitely bring back up later, but that didn’t mean he could wait anymore either. With a growl, he watched you writhe under him as he plowed as deep as he could, and with a shout you were cumming. Kei gives you a second to breathe, his hard cock slipping out of you making you flop onto the bed like an exhausted fish. He wastes no more time though, grabbing your ass all the while jerking himself off with other hand. It’s not long before he finishes too, his hot cum spurting all over your ass and back. The room settles, a musk weighing heavy in the air. There’s only breathing before Kei can’t help himself. “Seems like you needed that.” “Fuck off.”
Haikyuu Spotify Habits | Karasuno Pt. 1
The First Years! Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima & Yachi
Favourite Songs:
Walking on Clouds - Esthie
Haircut - Ryan Beatty
Antidote - Orion Sun
Slow Down - Taichi Mukai
Favourite Genres:
Bedroom Pop
J-Pop
Habits:
listens to music recommended by EVERYONE he meets
follows everyone’s spotify’s but no one follows him back except for Suga and Akaashi #bestmoms
publicly saves other people's playlists but prefers to listen to his own MASSIVE collection of liked songs rather than making a playlist
however, has one really popular playlist for his favourite favourite favourite songs, but it’s only popular bc people thought his playlist was dedicated to hinata hyuga T^T
has a playlist strictly for non-explicit songs so that Natsu and him could listen to it without getting yelled at by Mama Hinata UwU
he himself doesn’t like listening to super explicit songs, but it’s too common to avoid - he’s BABY
usually listens to music on his way to school while riding his bike
he remembers the melodies of songs really well but never remembers the lyrics, so he’ll make it up on the spot and improv a whole concert
listens to nothing but different variations and covers of All I Want For Christmas Is You as soon as november and december roll around
his favourite user is Akaashi!
My Favourite Playlist About Them: hinata. by hebees_
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5p33ROYi22Xf3KwOxiqTZ7?si=3vk2qT6NQ1GH9qxVyy9v4w
Favourite Songs:
My Favourite Part - Mac Miller ft. Ariana Grande
Yah. - Kendrick Lamar
The Kids Aren’t Alright - Fall Out Boy
Obsession - EXO
Favourite Genres:
Chill Hip-Hop
Alternative/Indie
Ariana Grande
Habits:
kinda hooked on ariana grande after listening to ‘7 Rings’ and feeling like a bad bitch
prefers to listen to instrumentals and nature noises to focus on training and keeping calm when he’s practicing volleyball at home
has a dedicated playlist full of chill hip-hop when he’s manicuring his nails
uses the most boring and generic playlist names and never changes his playlist covers ;-;
“nails songs“
“running songs“
“volleyball songs“
utilitarian spotify user rather than one who uses it for fun
suffers through ads cuz he doesn’t have premium
his favourite user is Iwaizumi!
My Favourite Playlist About Them: stealing milk from vending machines with kageyama tobio by tsxukei
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Xey47Wm43Ufq8Y9kFeQvO?si=LWOB9nDqQs-Tr4aYFJS12Q
Favourite Songs:
Put Your Records On - Ritt Momney
Sunflower - Post Malone ft. Swae Lee
Save Me - BTS
You Know How We Do It - Ice Cube
Favourite Genres:
Alternative/Indie
Whatever Tsukki listens to
Habits:
literally will follow all of Tsukki’s playlists, critique them without a HINT of negative comments, write about ‘em his personal journal, take a shit to ‘em
likes to listen to anime soundtracks whenever he finishes watching one
his favourite OSTs are from tokyo ghoul cuz it gives him anxiety and is a closeted masochist : )
no but seriously he’s trying to listen to more anxiety inducing songs so that he could get over his nerves with exposure therapy, someone give his bb a hug ;-;
publicly follows Tsukki’s playlists, but also makes super aesthetic playlists based on his moods
his favourite user is TSUKISHIMA!
My Favourite Playlist About Them: lord and savior, punk yamaguchi by Paige
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0lM5Bjnw3atBoN041DBK2x?si=Xt30Otb0TDONygKB2t0iyw
Favourite Songs:
Moondance - ADOY
Put Your Head On My Shoulder - Pauk Anka
The Hills - The Weeknd
Slim Shady - Eminem
Favourite Genres:
Old Skool Hip-Hop
RnB
LoFi
Habits:
ofc out lil salty boi would be listening to Eminem
a man of many tastes
listens to classical music every now and then but it’s only when he wants to release steam by fuggin’ JAMMIN to chaotic piano music
has a playlist for new songs that he keeps interchanging whenever he gets tired of the old ones
doesn’t even try but has hundreds of followers
A++ in music curation, he carefully thinks them out to create out of body listening experiences whenever you listen to any of his playlists
playlist covers and titles are based off of different extinct creatures
has a study playlist with lofi and instrumental songs from documentaries that he’s watched
has a secret playlist that he listens to incognito so that no one knows that he’s a mushy little lover boi on the inside
his favourite user is Kenma!
My Favourite Playlist About Them: tsukishima’s headphones by april<3
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1vO8OVraTdfDMeAxOgDVeI?si=kH1rlUekRF-Dxk8iBVEf7w
Favourite Songs:
Sofia - Clairo
Fireflies - Owl City
midnight love - girl in red
Fantasy - Fei
Favourite Genres:
Pop
K-Pop
LoFi
Habits:
has the MOST aesthetic playlists names and covers out of ALL of karasuno, absolutely no one could even come near her level of artistry, the closest being Suga
changes her aesthetics based off of the season
secretly follows Tendo’s crackhead playlist filled w inappropriate songs o.O
only listens to it when she’s tired of listening to songs that makes sense
also has a broad range in terms of music taste and is constantly listening to new music, especially when she’s doing her hw and starts jammin’ to some bops
she’s part of the beehive
has a joint premium account w Yamaguchi
makes playlists for all of her closest friends, including her neighbours cat who is very cuddly and loves her UwU
cried listening to the Stevens Universe sound track - she’s so BABY T^T
her favourite user is Sugawara!
My Favourite Playlist About Them: yachi hitoka by alyssa
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2F0okvUsF6pHJ6LB7c5fwv?si=-nW7r6AcQ0K64CWTW7jPMg
My Muse | ft. Tsukishima Kei
-`,dedicated to @hinaaspanda for her belated birthday! ⹁՛-
muse
/myo͞oz/; noun
(in Greek and Roman mythology) each of nine goddesses, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the arts and sciences.
a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.
something Tsukishima thought he’d never find, until you came along.
pairing: Art Student!Tsukishima x Art Student!Reader (female)
genre: Art School!AU, fluff, angst if you squint
word count: 6345
warning: swearing, drinking, like one instance of hinting at the devil’s tango
A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for your class' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school.
"Could you explain your reasoning for that type of brushstroke?"
"The message is intriguing, but I'm not so sure about the techniques you used for the foreground portray what you intended."
"The colour scheme seems random." It's been over a month into the semester, but you could never get used to being in the hot seat and facing the criticisms of your peers.
"It looks like a lame Cy Twombly imitation to me. Did you do this in, what— five minutes?" This comment from a certain classmate particularly bothered you. You turned to glare at the culprit.
"Kei Tsukishima! Constructive criticism only, please." The art professor gasped. "How about you go next for your critique?" Tsukishima sighed and shifted his easel, revealing to the class his assignment.
As always, his canvas contained a masterpiece. His technical skills were insanely advanced and the whole class knew it; they could not keep quiet it about it during his crit. His own explanation for it, however, was lacklustre. Most of his responses to comments were the likes of "I don't know," or "I just felt like it." To you, that might've been what aggravated you about Tsukishima the most—he was so gifted, but he treated his pieces as if they were mere doodles. If only you had even a percentage of his technical skills.
You ruminated in your thoughts, as other students continued with their critiques until class ended. In the midst of the class packing up and leaving the studio, your eyes glanced over to Tsukishima a couple of seats down. His eyes eventually meet yours as he passed by, noticing how irritated you still were.
"Can I help you?" He asked.
"I'll have you know that painting took a long time to make." You began. "What you said during my crit stung a bit."
"It's called a critique, pipsqueak. What else do you want?" He rolled his eyes, turning his back to you and headed toward the exit.
"I'm not a pipsqueak!" You shrilled, jolting up from your seat. You took a deep breath. "At least be more considerate in my critique. Like—give me a specific thing to improve on?" The boy paused just before the doorway, his back still to you.
"Y/N, was it?" He asked.
"Yeah."
"Work on your hatching or something. Gives it more depth." He muttered before walking out. You glanced back at your piece for a second before tucking it away in your case and exiting the studio.
—&
Your body shivered from the evening breeze as you walked back to your apartment. As you rummaged for your keys in front of your door, a cheery voice greeted you from the next door down.
"Oi, Y/N!"
"Yamaguchi!" You beamed. Yamaguchi, your neighbour, was always a ray of sunshine. "How's your essay coming along?"
"Actually, I just submitted it earlier today! So, fingers crossed for that coveted C+!" The boy chuckled before he glanced at your discouraged look and raised a brow. "What happened to you? Rough day?" You nodded, letting out a sigh.
"We had group crits today in studio class. I was able to respond to the comments, but it was obvious what they thought about my work: my technique isn't good enough. God, there was this one particular guy in my class who was just so— so insensitive about it!"
"H-hey, don't mind the haters!" Yamaguchi butted in to calm you down. "He's probably just jealous of you." You raised a brow.
"Jealous of what? It just felt like he was punching down." You looked down, letting out a sigh. "I put a lot of thought into this piece and I thought it would show."
"You're talking about that piece you worked on last week right?" You nodded, Yamaguchi's mouth gaping open. "Wait— that one is so good! I've seen art galleries where they feature a white canvas with a singular black line painted! If those can end up in galleries, you're absolutely fine!" You chuckled, before he continued. "The message behind the art piece is just as important as the piece itself, if not more. And Y/N, you put a lot of thought to the message behind each of your pieces, which is awesome! Don't be too hard on yourself."
"Thanks, Yamaguchi." You grinned. "I honestly am beyond lucky to have ended up with you as a neighbour."
"Hey, I feel like I'm the lucky one having such a talented artist as a neighbour!" The boy grinned back before bidding you goodbye. You waved back and stepped inside your apartment.
—&
"Alright, folks. Now that we're a couple of months into the semester, it's about time to talk about your final term project." The studio professor began explaining the logistics and requirements of the final project. It was essentially another painting but with higher stakes. "Keep in mind: while the technique is absolutely important, your projects also need depth and meaning. Otherwise, you are going to have quite a rough critique. Let me tell you, the other professors can be ruthless!" The professor chuckled. "Now, on with the class." You groaned. The only thing worse than being criticized on the spot by your class was getting criticized on the spot by a group of professors—actual artists. If you were gonna ace the final project, you were gonna have to grind hard.
In the middle of the period, you placed your brush on your easel to take a quick break. You took a deep breath and rolled back your shoulders before letting your eyes wandered around the class—from the wide window pane wall on your left as it welcomed the sunlight throughout the studio, to your classmates on your right as they either quietly worked on their next pieces or chatted amongst each other. Your eyes eventually fall on Tsukishima, a couple of seats from you, as he's quietly slouched over his canvas with a Filbert brush in hand.
"He's probably just jealous of you." These particular words from Yamaguchi left you baffled even after a few days since that interaction. Why would Tsukishima—that gifted asshole—be jealous of you? What could you have for him to be jealous of? Compared to his skills? If anything, you should feel jealous of h—
That was not a thought you wanted to finish. You must've stared at Tsukishima for too long, since his attention has suddenly shifted to you, with a puzzled look.
"What do you want?" He asked.
"I—" You stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. "I...was just wondering if you could...share more brush technique tips...?" You grinned feigningly. The boy glanced over at your canvas then back at you.
"Figures. Looks like you really need it." He snickered, causing you to scoff.
"God, you are hard to talk to."
"Oi, I didn't say no." He rebutted. "I can't be bothered by explaining it to you, though. Since you're already slacking off anyway, just watch me." He adjusted his glasses before focusing back on his own canvas. You rolled your eyes at the ego of this guy, but was puzzled at his odd offer. You kept your eyes on his brush and took mental notes as he continued painting. You were fascinated by the advanced brush techniques he applied as if it was child's play. After watching his brush for a while, your eyes eventually wandered over to his hand. Then to his broad shoulders. Then to the pale nape of his neck. Then to his short, ruffled, blonde hair. Then to the golden-brown eyes behind his glasses, a little sorry that they a lack a glint to them.
"Tsukishima! Do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" The professor asked as she walked up to his easel. It was more than enough to snap you out of your gaze. You darted your head back to your own easel and continued to work away at your canvas, with your flustered confusion blocking out Tsukishima's conversation with the professor. Why did he leave you in such a daze just now?
When the clock signaled the end of class, the class began to pack up. As you put your paint away, you glanced over at Tsukishima once more as he quickly packed up his supplies. This time, he looked more annoyed than usual.
"Oi, Tsukishima." You called to him. "What did the professor talk to you about?"
"None of your business." He retorted without batting an eye as he grabbed his bag and walked out of the studio without another word. Quite rude, but he seemed in a bad mood, so you disregarded it. You grabbed your things and left the studio to continue with the rest of your day.
—&
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
You jolted awake from the knock on your door. You reached for your phone to check the time—it was noon. It was only mere hours ago when you finished pulling an all-nighter to work on an assignment because your inspiration apparently likes to strike at 3am. The knocking continued. You groaned as you sat up and grudgingly made your way over to the front door. You opened the door and peeked out to find a tall, familiar figure standing off to your left.
"Tsukishima?!" For the last few classes, your interactions with Tsukishima have been scarce. He'd somehow manage to insert an insult whenever you'd ask him a question. There were also moments in class where you swore you felt a glance coming from his direction, but when you turned your head to him, he was occupied with his canvas. Seeing him now at your doorstep was a surreal experience.
"Y/N?" He looked at you quizzically. "You live here? Whatever. What do you want?"
"What do you mean "What do you want?"," You mocked sluggishly. "You knocked on my door— what do you want?"
"Wait, you thought I knocked on your door? Dumbass." He snickered. You rolled your eyes and hit his arm.
"I'm too tired for this, Kei." You retorted, leaning against the door frame. "Who are you here to see, then?"
"I'm here to see a friend." He pointed over to Yamaguchi's door and—as if on cue—his door opened and a frantic Yamaguchi stepped out.
"S-sorry, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi shrilled. "My readings took longer than I expected!" He caught sight of you and waved. "Oh! Hi Y/N! I see you've met Tsukki…shima." He chuckled softly.
"Hey Yamaguchi!" You waved back. "Wait, you call him Tsu—that's so cute! I wanna call him that too!" Tsukishima furiously shook his head.
"No way I'm letting anyone else call me Tsukki. I only make an exception for Yamaguchi." He sighed, turning to Yamaguchi. "She's in my studio art class."
"Unfortunately." You muttered under your breath.
"Oi, I heard that." Tsukishima glared.
"Hey Yamaguchi, how do you know Tsukki?" You asked, teasingly emphasizing the latter name. Yamaguchi chuckled.
"Oh, I've been friends with Tsukki since we were young!"
"That's insane. You're way too nice to be hanging around Tsukki."
"Y/N, I will tell Yamaguchi you thought I was knocking on your door, if you don't stop calling me Tsukki." Tsukishima threatened.
"You just did though." You furrowed your brows.
"Wait Y/N, did you just wake up?" Yamaguchi asked.
"Yeah, Tsukki woke me up." You pouted.
"Serves you right, pipsqueak." Tsukishima scoffed.
"Oi, I'm no pipsqueak! It's not my fault you tower over everyone, you bean pole."
"I'd rather be a bean pole—if it means not being caught in public with those on." He pointed down at your panda slippers. You gasped theatrically.
"How dare you insult my precious pandas?"
"Alright, you two!" Yamaguchi finally chimed in. "I get it. You two fight like a married couple. Horribly, I might add." He chuckled, causing both you and Tsukishima to scoff. "Anyways Tsukki, let's get going and let Y/N get some rest." Yamaguchi bid you goodbye, while Tsukishima gave you one last glance before he turned around and followed the other. "Seriously, Tsukki. Just use the doorbell next time!" You chuckled, hearing your neighbour lecture the bean pole as they walked away.
When you stepped back into your apartment, you rubbed the nape of your neck. You've almost forgotten why you've antagonized Tsukishima so much. Aside from the rocky start and the constant teasing, he's never been inherently bad to you. It's almost as if he's nice to you in his own, subtle way.
Nah. It must've been the sleep deprivation talking. You let out another yawn and went back to get some more shut-eye.
—&
The deadline for the studio class' term project was approaching. For the past couple of weeks, you've often found yourself spending late evenings painting away alone in the studio after class. The warm, quiet atmosphere of the studio with golden rays shining through the window pane as the sun set was where you've lately felt the most motivated. One particular evening in the studio, you were stuck on how to execute a certain portion of your painting's foreground. If you were going to impress the professors during your term project critique, you had to go above and beyond with your technique, considering your track record of your mediocre group critiques. You leaned your head back along with a sigh. You tapped the handle of your paintbrush on your temple, wishing for an idea.
"Y/N?" Startled, you turned to the familiar, baritone voice stood by the studio doorway.
"Tsukishima? H-how long have you been there?"
"Relax, I'm just here to pick up some paint that I forgot." You sighed and turned back to your canvas. He walked over to the supply shelves behind you to grab a few tubes of paint, placing them in his bag, before turning to you. After a while, you couldn't help but feel irked by the boy looking over your shoulder from behind.
"So—" You decided to break the silence. "It's still a work in progress, but what do you think of it?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" He snickered, causing you to groan. At this point, you've grown desensitized of his teasing.
"I'm serious. I want to do well for the term project. I'm just stuck on how to paint this part of the foreground." You motioned to the portion of the canvas before the boy stepped closer to take another look at your painting.
"Give me your brush." You reached out your brush to him without batting an eye, expecting him to take it. To your surprise, you instead felt his hand firmly gripping onto yours.
"Ts-Tsukishima?" You froze, bewitched by his sudden touch. His hand guided you and the brush throughout the canvas, using colour combinations and brush strokes foreign to you, but seemingly simple to him. Your eyes couldn't help but focus on his hand that was clung onto yours. You held your breath. At that moment, it felt like time stood still. When he finished, he gently released your hand. The warmth of his touch lingered on your hand—and on your mind—for a bit longer. He briefly explained the techniques he applied, when he noticed your still flustered reaction.
"Huh— oi, don't get the wrong idea. It was the only way I could've done it without you getting in trouble for cheating or something." He rebutted, seemingly unfazed by his actions. "Besides, you probably wouldn't have been able to do it if I just explained it to you."
"Whatever." You rolled your eyes, any flustered feelings you felt faded away. You looked back at the portion of your canvas just painted. As usual, Tsukishima's methods were impressive and helpful. "Thanks." You uttered under your breath, before continuing to work. He nodded before looking out the window.
"It's getting late. Shouldn't you head home?" He asked as he picked up his bag, about to leave.
"It’s fine," You shook your head, keeping your eyes on your canvas. "I've gone home later than this in the past. I have to work on this." The boy sighed and paused before reaching for your portfolio case.
"I didn't know you were this stubborn too." He dangled your portfolio case and made his way out the studio. "It's time to call it a day if you want this back." You turned to him as he slung your portfolio case over his shoulder with a sly smirk before stepping out the studio. You groaned.
"Oi! Come back here!" You shoved your supplies into your bag, slipped off your apron and grabbed your canvas before rushing out the studio to catch up to him as he kept his leisurely pace. Panting, you caught up to him and snatched your portfolio case back. "What the hell, Tsukishima?" He snickered.
"I'm heading over to Yamaguchi's place anyway, so I wasn't actually going to run away with it."
"You better not have. Wait— why are you headed to Yamaguchi's so late?"
"I'm staying over. My brother's bringing his girlfriend over to our house tonight, so you already know what's bound to happen." He shuddered. "Frankly, I don't want to hear any of that shit." You chuckled.
—&
A serene silence fell upon the two. Before you knew it, you found yourself walking back to the apartment complex together. As you walked, you leaned your head back and took a breath of the evening breeze. You turned your head to Tsukishima, who's engrossed himself in his music, a bit of which you could almost hear from his headphones. You felt your cheeks warm up. Walking beside him right now made you reminisce of the countless romantic scenes you've read where the boy walks the girl home. You shook your head. No, this wasn't one of those tales.
"Why are you looking at me this time?" Tsukishima raised a brow at you, slinging his headphones around his neck. "You've been doing that a lot lately."
"Oh—" You scratched your head. "I swear it's just a coincidence. Maybe you're just looking at me all the time." He rolled his eyes before another silence fell upon the two. A thought suddenly crossed your mind. "I was just wondering, remember when you stormed off after the professor talked to you?"
"Hm."
"What happened? Did she say something bad?" The boy suddenly grimaced. Your curiosity grew, but regretted asking him. He let out a sigh.
"She's concerned about how I'll do in the final term project. That my track record of 'shallow responses' during my crits indicate the kind of work I'll bring to the final critique. And that I didn't feel 'inspired' enough." He shrugged. "As long as I paint something impressive to my audience, I should do fine."
It dawned on you that he has the exact opposite dilemma as you. While you lacked the technique, yet strived in the depth of your pieces, he had insanely advanced skills, but struggled to find drive.
"Don't you want to do more than 'fine', though?" You began. "I mean—isn't that the point of art? To express that of which your muse—let's say—has inspired you?"
"My muse?" Tsukishima raised a brow.
"Yeah, your muse! Something—or someone—that is a source of inspiration for you." He paused, gazing at you before he tsked.
"Odd."
"What do you mean 'odd'?" You furrowed you brows, mocking his tone. "You must have a muse. Something you like that makes you go 'I want to paint something based on that'?" He shook his head. "I don't buy it. Tell me, Kei. You like music, right? Doesn't it make you feel things and envision things when you listen to it?"
"I guess, but it doesn't make me want to paint it."
"Scratch that, then. How about, I'll give you an example of a muse of mine:" You pointed upward. "that."
"Huh—" He looked up as well. "The sky?" You nodded.
"I love the sky. It gives you something different everyday. From the glint of the stars out tonight, the funny shapes you make out from clouds, to the gorgeous colours that sunsets reveal—which is a personal favourite." You sighed in glee.
"Anyone can paint a sunset, though." He rebutted. "I just don't see how the sky would impress the professors. Wouldn't it make you a more worthwhile artist to show off the most challenging techniques you can pull off to succeed?" You gritted your teeth.
"It's not about what you paint—it's why you're painting it!" Your plead echoed around both of you. This took Tsukishima aback. You lowered your head, your heart sinking. It was as if every small, condescending remark he's said has piled up and overwhelmed you. "Not everyone is as gifted as you, Tsukishima." You whimpered softly. "I've always admired your talent." Silence fell once more.
"Y/N, I—"
"You know I have been practicing the things you've taught me. I know I'm not the best at them, but at least I'm improving. At least I'm trying." There was a shakiness growing in your voice. "I don't know if I'm upset at you or at myself, but—" As you two approached the apartment complex, you turned to the boy one last time with a pained look in your eyes. "but can't you be even the tiniest bit considerate of me?" You turned your back to him and marched back into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.
Tsukishima lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and cursed under his breath as Yamaguchi let him inside as well.
—&
For the next couple of weeks, you and Tsukishima ceased talking to each other, not even looking at each other's way. It perplexed you why you've been as affected by him as you were that night. Maybe it was your confusion from how he constantly teetered between belittling you and helping you. Maybe it was your disappointment that you've invested yourself to him but he never reciprocated in the end, but never again. You've convinced yourself that he was nothing more but a mere classmate from studio class—always has been and always will be.
The end of the term was nearly approaching and the stress continued to pile up. You've been dedicating much more time into perfecting your art pieces for the final project. One particular weekend, cooped up in your apartment while trying to finish up your painting, you hit upon some good ol' artist block. You scratched your head as you tried to find inspiration. You peeked out your window. Nothing but gray clouds today. You turned back to your canvas, frustrated at how you feel you're so close to finishing, yet so far. Eyeing the details, you noticed the particular spot that Tsukishima added that evening in the studio. Your flustered feelings began to creep back into your mind.
Nope.
You ruffled your hair furiously before wailing out a long, exasperated scream for what felt like forever. Once you calmed down, you leaned back onto your seat. Oddly enough, screaming helped you clear your thoughts and frustrations. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.
The silence was broken by a sudden, frantic knocking on your door. You walked over and opened the door to find a concerned Yamaguchi.
"Y/N! I heard screaming. A-are you okay?" He asked frantically.
"Yamaguchi! I'm fine, sorry about that." You laughed nervously as you rubbed the nape of your neck. "I was just blowing off steam from the stress of school, I guess." Your neighbour sighed in relief.
"Man, Y/N. You scared me!" He complained. "It's getting that tense, huh?" You nodded. He took notice of your messy hair and your weary demeanor. "You sure look like you need a break. " He chuckled.
"Gee thanks, Yamaguchi."
"Oh!" His eyes suddenly brightened up before placing a hand on your shoulder. "Come over and have a drink or two! It's the weekend, you should let loose!" A drink was probably what you needed right now, anyway.
"Yeah, that sounds pretty nice." You conceded. Yamaguchi beamed in response. You closed your door and followed your neighbour into his unit.
"Make yourself at home." Yamaguchi made his way to the fridge. "I'll grab drinks. Any preferences?"
"The hardest ones you've got." You both laughed.
"Gotcha." You sat down on the couch and leaned back. You glanced around. You spot a familiar set of brushes and paints—the ones from the studio. You looked around once more until you spotted him sat by the balcony.
"Tsukishima?" You caught the blonde boy in the middle of ogling at you, seemingly somewhat buzzed already. His eyes widened the moment your eyes met, and quickly looked away. He placed his headphones back on and took another swig from his bottle.
"Sorry, Y/N." Yamaguchi chimed in as he headed towards you with two red cups. "I figured if I mentioned Tsukki was staying over tonight, you'd refuse to come over." You shook your head, smiling reassuringly.
"Don't worry, Yamaguchi. He didn't hurt me or anything." You sighed. "I overreacted a bit too." He handed you a cup and sat down beside you.
"Tsukki told me what happened. He regretted being so brash with you."
"He did?" Yamaguchi nodded, glancing over at Tsukishima.
"You want to know how he's gotten so good at painting?"
"Sure."
"The thing his professor told him—that he lacks inspiration in his work—it's not unfounded. It's something he's struggled with long before he started art school. He figured that if he explored more techniques—that if he got better—he'll eventually find something to inspire him. He's gotten so talented, but he rarely feels fulfilled from his work. It's made him feel like an inadequate artist, which is why he's resorted to teasing and such."
"Oh." You frowned. "I never thought of it like that."
"Don't worry! I believe he's recently found that source of inspiration. You should see the painting he's done for your term project!" Yamaguchi leaned back on the couch. "Tsukki's never been the best at being positive or open, so you'll have to forgive him. The teasing get annoying, surely, but he means well. He's teased me since we were kids, but I've come to realize that that's how he shows he's invested in someone."
"No way—I don't buy it."
"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true! You'll see." He grinned. "I'm not sure if you'll see Super Drunk Tsukishima tonight, but he can be quite sentimental." He chuckled.
"Now that would be a sight to see." You snickered. "What kind of drunk are you, Yamaguchi?"
"There's only one way to find out, right?" He snickered as you both clinked your cups and guzzled down your drinks.
A few drinks later, it didn't take long to find yourself drunk and beside a passed-out, mumbling Yamaguchi on the couch. Zoned out, you let out a couple of hiccups. You suddenly caught a moving figure from the corner of your eye. You sluggishly turned your head to find Tsukishima stumbling to grab another bottle from the fridge. You sneered loudly.
"Tsssukki—can I call you Tsukki? I'm gonna call you Tsukki—someone should cut you off."
"Cut me off? I paced myself—" The boy rebutted, flimsily pointing at you. He hiccuped. "unlike you. Take a look at yourself, Y/N. And look what you did to Yamagusshi!"
"Pffft. He did that to himself." You cackled. He groaned before opening his bottle and shuffling back, sitting down on the balcony floor. After a second, you decided to follow him out and plop down beside him. "Tsukki, I'm sorryyy—" You turned to him and pouted. "I yelled at'cha that one time. I didn't know y'were sad tooo." Taken aback, the boy furrowed his brows, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you.
"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who upset you." He pointed the neck of the bottle to himself, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. "I'm the asshole here." Your drunk ass couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Asshole! You said 'asshole'!" You continued to cackle, leaning back too much as you began to lose balance. Before you knew it, Tsukishima reached out, catching you with one hand grasped onto your wrist and his other hand wrapped around your waist.
"Oi, be careful." He gently pulled you back upward as you continued to giggle to yourself, still seemingly unaware of his actions. You finally realized what just occurred the moment you felt his hand pull away from your waist. Flustered, you looked away for a moment and grumbled.
"You sure are an asshhole, Kei." You muttered, trying hard not to slur your words. "Y'know—you i-insult me all the ti—"
"I know, and I'm sorr—"
"But y-you also do these things that make m-my heart skip a beat—"
"Y/N—" He stammered.
"A-and I get all confused about you, and I never know what to feel—"
"Y/N."
"I mean—w-why me? Why aren't you like this to other people?"
"Because I don't care about other people." Tsukishima's words finally cut you off. You gazed at him as the moonlight lit up his flustered face. You felt his grip on your wrist slide down as he gently held your hand. He locked his eyes onto yours. You hoped your flushed cheeks from the alcohol were enough to hide your blushing as he slowly leaned his face closer.
THUD!
You both turned your head back into the main room to find Yamaguchi on the foot of the couch.
"Tsukki..." He groaned. "Bathroom...puke...n-now..." Tsukishima sighed. He looked at you once more before he stammered.
"I should go help him..." You nodded, still flustered. He released your hand as he rose to his feet and clumsily headed over to Yamaguchi to help him. You gently hit your cheeks with the palms of your hands. You figured those two would be occupied for a while, so you decided to trudge back to your apartment without bidding them goodbye. You felt as if your emotions were at their limit, anyway. It was going to be one hell of a hangover the next day.
—&
You couldn't remember a lot from that night at Yamaguchi's place, but the feeling of Tsukishima's hand grasped onto yours still lingered on your mind. You weren't sure if you were imagining it or not—or if you just wanted it to happen. None of that mattered right now; there wasn't much time left before the end of the semester. For the remainder of the time, you focused solely on schoolwork, determined on creating the best final product for your studio class' final term project to your ability. You knew you still had ways to go, but you've surely improved your technique. You were grateful to Tsukishima, but you didn't have the time to entertain anymore confusion from your emotions.
"How could I have forgotten the varnish?" You grumbled as you paced your way to the studio one day, picking up some supplies. Right before entering, you took notice of the figures already in the studio: Tsukishima in front of a small panel of art professors. You gasped and hid behind the door. His critique for the term project must've been today. You peeked your head out the door to take a closer look inside.
Your eyes couldn't help but focus on Tsukishima, surprised by how much more devotedly he seems answering the professors' comments; a huge contrast compared to his previous demeanor during previous crits in class. You smiled. It was admirable seeing him like that. You glanced over to the painting he presented. It was a beautiful depiction of the sky at dusk: a gorgeous mix of colours at sunset with an ethereal sky of stars above. Even from a distance, it wasn't hard to appreciate his mastery of technique. Another detail of the painting caught your eye: the female figure in the middle whose presence was subtle, yet significant. As you pieced together her features, you slowly realized that the figure in his painting strongly resembled you.
"Hold on—" The sound of applause and chairs scraping on the floor interrupted your train of thought. You gasped as you hid around the corner, waiting for the studio to clear. You heard the voices fading off as they walked out of the studio and waited a few moments before deciding the coast was clear. You snuck into the studio, only to find one more person across the room.
"I saw you peeking, you know." Tsukishima remarked, packing up his artwork. "You're not stealthy at all."
"I figured." You sighed. "I'm just here to pick up some varnish for my project. How did your crit go?"
"I think it went well." He rubbed the nape of his neck. "I never talked this much during crits, but it was easier since I had some inspiration to drive me."
"Hey, that's awesome! I knew you had it in you!" You grinned. "It was a beautiful painting, by the way. It's funny—for a second, I thought the person in your painting sort of looked like me." You laughed awkwardly. The boy raised a brow.
"I painted Urania, one of the Nine Muses in Greek mythology. The Muse of astronomy. So yeah—don't flatter yourself."
"I guess you took my advice literally, huh." You replied, grimacing. You went over to the supply cabinet to pick up the varnish. The boy took notice of your change in tone and scratched his head.
"Sorry. That was unnecessary."
"it's fine." Silence fell upon the studio. Tsukishima finally cleared his throat.
"I mean—that's at least what I told the professors who she was. There's a hidden layer to the painting that I didn't mention."
"What do you mean?"
"What you said earlier—that you thought Urania resembled you. It's because I painted her to resemble you, and the way you admired the sky. Did you think it was a coincidence she looked like you in a painting where I also painted what you said was your muse?"
"W-why paint me, then?" You stammered. He sighed. You sensed a change in his demeanor.
"It baffled me how each crit in class, you're always so adamant on the message of your paintings. It was something I admire about you— and something I wanted to be able to do. Through you, I learned to find inspiration from even the most mundane things." He slowly made his way across the room to you. You grew flustered.
"Tsukishima..." You took a step back, getting backed up by the wall. He stopped right in front of you, towering over you. You felt your cheeks warm up. He took the jar of varnish from your hand and tucked it in his back pocket.
"I meant what I said back at Yamaguchi's place—that I didn't care about anyone else but you. So hearing what you said that night..." A deep, golden shade of sunlight shone through the window pane and onto you as the sun began to set. You reached for Tsukishima’s shirt and gently tugged on it. He reached for your other hand and held it. He cupped his other hand on your cheek and tilted your head upward towards him. "You said you didn't believe I didn't have a muse, but I swore on it. Now—now it's different, because I've found you, Y/N." He leaned his face closer, your eyes fixed onto each other's. "You're my muse." He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and kissed back. As your kisses grew deeper, you tugged on his shirt a bit stronger to pull his body closer to yours. He intertwined your fingers together, holding each other's hand tighter. This all felt right. Eventually, you lightly pulled away from each other, panting softly. You fixed your gaze on his golden-brown eyes once more. There was now a strong glint to them, unlike before. It made you happy.
"I'm honoured to be your muse, Kei." You softly replied, grinning widely. Hearing your reply, Tsukishima let out a soft laugh—it was the happiest you've seen him look. You liked seeing him this happy. He sighed.
"Here." He let go of your hand to reach for his back pocket and return the jar of varnish. "I’ll walk you home. I'm staying over at Yamaguchi's tonight." You took the jar and tucked it away in your bag. He followed you out of the studio and you began walking back to the apartment complex together.
"Your brother brought his girlfriend over again?" He nodded. "That's been happening more frequently. Doesn't it get annoying?"
"A bit. It's fine, though—" He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. "Soon enough, I might have to kick him out this time." He smirked. Growing flustered again, you gasped.
"Tsukishima, you pervert!" He sneered before speeding up his pace and leaving you behind. You scoffed, chasing after him. "Oi, get back here!"
—&
You gently slapped your cheeks with the palms of your hands—psyching yourself up. Your critique for your final term project is mere minutes away. You muttered to yourself as you paced back and forth in front of the studio.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."
"You can do this." Tsukishima repeated, having your painting in hand. "You have nothing to worry about."
"What if it's not good enough?" You fretted.
"You've worked so hard this whole term. I mean, look at this." He took another look at the canvas. "It's both meticulous and insightful. They'll love it."
"Are you su—" He promptly handed you back the canvas, interrupting you.
"They'll love it." He repeated once more. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. "There. Only because you can't reach me from down there." He snickered, while you rolled your eyes. You heard a voice from the studio call your name. "Go knock 'em dead." You smiled at him once more before stepping into the studio. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you braced yourself for the professors' relentless nitpicking of your latest painting. Group critiques were the one thing you dreaded the most about art school. However, now with better faith in your skills and in your muse, you figured you'll be alright.
🍦 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* tsukishima & yamaguchi *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 🍦
⇢ 𝙆𝙚𝙞 𝙏𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙖 𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨 ⇠
𝙍𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮: @fxbv-v
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