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#tsukiyachi
limach-an · 9 months
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weathertheraine · 10 months
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Differently shaped blonde girls dressed for summer time!! :D Not pictured: Tadashi on the ground
(Beachy looks for Yachi and Yumiko - my transfem Tsukishima)
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innovativestruggles · 2 months
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I did a thing and made them matching... 💞🥹
Please do not repost
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madysenpaiart · 1 year
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“If I win do I get a kiss?”
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moxiepoxart · 2 years
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bluemallow-log · 4 months
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CELESTIAL BODIES
A DUOLOGY OF TSUKIYACHI FANFICTION STORIES SET DURING AND AFTER CHAPTER 402
PART 1: UPRIGHT MOON
[READ HERE]
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Yachi's POV. Written in 2022. A big bowl of angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. Cheesy as hell but I like it that way >:D
PART 2: REVERSED STAR
[READ HERE]
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Tsukishima's POV Written for Tsukiyachi Day 2023! Full of angst, yearning, and fluff. Come and see Tsukki being pathetic and miserable in this fic >:)
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watmels · 1 year
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Art for the TsukiYachi fic “Blindly” by @vannahfanfics​ 🎨💕
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thepsykoshipper · 2 years
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Tsuki has been my muse lately so figured I’d draw these cuties
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vannahfanfics · 1 year
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Blindly
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Word Count: 5735
Fluff, Romance, Blind Dates, Light Angst
Summary: Tired of a non-existent love life, Hitoka agrees for Kiyoko to arrange a blind date for her. But she soon realizes what a mistake that could turn out to be. Going on a blind date with a member of the team is just asking for heartbreak... right?
Howdy, all! Here’s my story for the Karasuno Big Bang! Couldn’t miss a golden opportunity to write my favorite Haikyuu!! ship, TsukiYachi <3 A big thanks to my beta @yayumecreates for making the story that much more wonderful with their edits, and of course, go give some love to my partner @watmels for her beautiful art!
Cherry blossom petals swirled in the breeze, whirling around the two of them in a tumultuous frenzy. The soft petals fluttered through the gossamer waves of her hair as if to press tender kisses into the strands. Yet they were not nearly as soft as his hands as they held hers tenderly, nor the warmth in his eyes as they gazed intently into her own. 
“I’m serious!” he gasped, exasperation flooding his cheeks the color of the cherry blossoms. “I lo—”
“What are you reading?” 
Hitoka jumped nearly a foot off the bench, a shriek exploding from her lips. She clutched the novel to her chest while she half-fell, half-rose, then whirled around on unsteady feet. Leaning over the back of the bench, Kiyoko frowned curiously at her. 
“Sorry,” Hitoka’s upperclassmen quipped through slightly pursed lips. “I didn’t mean to startle you. You just seemed so into it…” Her gaze fell to the book, and the illustration of a romantic couple on the front partially obscured by Hitoka’s trembling hands. Her eyebrow crept slowly up her forehead, accompanied by her lips curling into a smirk. “It couldn’t be that you’re reading something… indecent… at school, could it?” 
“What?” Hitoka spluttered. “I-indecent? N-no, never, I-I—” She looked bashfully down at the novel, then gulped. Oh, it shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it was! She meekly turned the book around to show Kiyoko the front cover. “It’s just the newest romance novel everyone has been raving about…” 
Kiyoko reached out to take the book from her so she could flip it around and skim the summary on the back. She nodded, then handed it back to Hitoka.
“Oh, I see. I thought as much, but you’re just so easy to tease. I had to,” the pretty third-year snickered. 
Hitoka expelled a wan sigh. Yes, she knew she was easy to tease, especially about things like this. She just couldn’t help it! She was just such a hopeless romantic! She plopped back down on the bench, hugging the book to her chest again. Her heart was still pounding against its paperback shell… She hadn’t just been reading about a protagonist; she had imagined it was her. She had felt the wind plucking at her hair and clothes, felt the young boy’s hands holding hers in earnest…
Kiyoko crossed her wrists as she continued to lean against the bench, observing Hitoka keenly. 
“If a simple teen romance novel is affecting you this much, then it must mean you really want a boyfriend, huh, Hitoka?” 
Hitoka nearly fell off the bench again; it felt like Kiyoko’s blunt accusation literally speared her. A small groan rumbled in her throat. She could deny it, but what was the point? Kiyoko’s perception was keener than a hawk’s. Even if Hitoka did deny it, Kiyoko would just refute the denial with all the poignant coldness of a ruthless lawyer. So Hitoka sank into the bench, propping her forehead on Kiyoko’s arm with another, more miserable groan. 
“You have no idea!” she lamented. She turned so that her cheek was pressed against the older girl’s arm, giving her a clear view of her pathetic little pout. “I don’t know why, but lately, I’ve been so lonely and craving a relationship! Is that weird?” 
“Of course it’s not weird,” Kiyoko smiled reassuringly down at her. “Wanting a relationship isn’t a bad thing at all.” When Hitoka groaned and buried her face back into Kiyoko’s arm, she tutted soothingly and stroked Hitoka’s hair. “Seems like you’re down bad, huh?” 
“Yes, and there’s nothing I can do about it but read cheesy romance novels! But now, even those aren’t enough.” In a sudden fit of frustration, she kicked out her legs and banged her fists against the bench. “I want it, darn it! I want someone to hold my hand and kiss my cheek and tell me I’m pretty!” The vexation went as suddenly as it came, and she melted like the defeated pile of goop she was back into the bench. “But I just don’t have the courage to ask anyone…” 
“Hmmm,” Kiyoko hummed thoughtfully. She idly played with Hitoka’s hair for a few minutes, alternating between curling the strands around her index finger and running her fingers through the blonde waves. Hitoka was so touch-starved that it felt mind-numbingly good; she was almost asleep and drooling by the time Kiyoko spoke again. “What if I set you up on a blind date?”  
“A-a blind date?” Hitoka echoed. 
“Yeah,” Kiyoko shrugged. “Just a no-strings-attached, one-time-only blind date. It’ll probably take the edge off, at the very least. Or, if it goes extremely well, it’ll solve your problem completely.”
It certainly presented a solution to her problem and removed the mortifying aspect of having to solve it herself… Though, a blind date was nerve-wracking in its own right. She wouldn’t have to worry about Kiyoko choosing someone incompatible with her, given that she knew Hitoka’s tastes; but, their friend circles were pretty much the same. Didn’t that mean that Hitoka would probably end up dating someone on the team? She did like all the boys, and so any one of them would probably at least offer an enjoyable distraction from her woes. But what if it ended badly? Hitoka was in a state of emotional vulnerability; she couldn’t rule out the possibility that she could end up projecting too much. She would hate to tarnish her friendship with any one of them. 
“I don’t know, Kiyoko,” Hitoka frowned and scratched at the side of her head. Kiyoko just waited patiently for her to decide. Sure, things could go awry… but Hitoka couldn’t envision any of the boys completely avoiding her after an awkward date. And come on, there was no way that she could catch feelings for one of the guys over one little date. She could just have her night pretending she was in her own little romance story, and then boom—it ended, the credits rolled, and that was that. 
Really, what did she have to lose? She looked back to Kiyoko, who smiled. “All right, I’m in. A blind date it is!” 
“Glad to hear it,” Kiyoko said, her smile widening. “Watching you pine was beginning to grow painful.” 
Hitoka slunk down into the bench with a mortified whine, and though she covered her burning face, she could still hear Kiyoko’s laughter echoing in the sunny courtyard…
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Okay, Hitoka. Just breathe. It’s just a date. No stress, no expectations—just go and have fun! Hitoka told herself as she stared anxiously into the mirror. She smoothed her sweaty hands down the front of her dress. She’d opted for something simple yet elegant—a white sundress with a pink ribbon and a bit of pink lace framing the hem of the skirt and sleeves. She’d paired it with some white flats, a pale pink handbag, and a white headband. Pretty cute, if she did say so herself. Yet she couldn’t help but feel nervous in the back of her mind. What if her date didn’t like her outfit? What if they were going somewhere fancier and now she was underdressed?
Her fretting was interrupted by the ring of her doorbell. Oh, goodness, no turning back now! she thought, frantically gathering up her purse before rushing to the door. She paused on the threshold to make sure that her hair wasn’t ruffled from her frenzied flight across the house, then took a deep breath. Okay. Let’s do this! Plastering a smile on her face, she opened the door. 
“Hey, Yacchan,” Kei smiled shyly. 
Hitoka couldn’t help but gape at his tall, slender frame crowding her doorway. She honestly hadn’t been sure what to expect, but the sight of Kei Tsukishima standing at her door dressed up in some nice slacks and a button-up shirt was probably the most surprising result that could have been borne of this situation. She never would have expected him to agree to this. But here he was, leaning against the post on her porch with his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his slacks. She quickly closed her mouth before her gawking could become embarrassing, then bashfully held her purse out in front of her while she smiled coyly. 
“Hey, Kei. So… you’re my date for the night?” she asked. She slowly swung her shoulders from side-to-side to try and channel some of the nervous energy building up inside of her. But it was a good sort of nervousness now, that anticipation that made her toes tingle and her lips continuously twitch into a smile. She liked Kei. He was handsome, and despite his kind of prickly personality, he was nice, too. She was sure this would be fun. 
“Sure am,” he nodded in affirmation. He pushed himself off the post, and Hitoka’s heart thumped in her chest when he offered his hand to her. “Shall we get going?” With a bashful nod, Hitoka extended her hand to place her hand in his. His fingers were rough from playing volleyball, calloused and coarse; but they still felt nice against her smooth skin. 
Kei guided her down her porch and to the sidewalk. His fingers remained curled loosely in hers as they set off at a pleasant pace towards the city, and it kept Hitoka’s heart thumping wildly against her ribs. 
“S-so… Where are we going?” Hitoka probed while shyly peering at Kei out of the corners of her eyes. She never would’ve thought she would consider how Kei approached dating, but now it was all she could think about. Did he prefer more traditional methods of dating, like movies or cafés? Or did he tend to think out-of-the-box? 
Kei’s eyes were glittering when he looked at her. 
“It’s a surprise,” he said with a wry smirk. Hitoka poked out her cheeks in indignance. Oh, that was a classic move to get her heart going, but now she was dying to know! 
“Sorry,” he chortled at her discontented expression. “It’s not that far of a walk, so just be patient.” With that, he looked forward again. 
“Okay, okay…” Hitoka begrudgingly relented, puffing out the air she had locked into her cheeks. Kei was probably the most stubborn of all the Karasuno boys, at least when it came to keeping his mouth shut. She couldn’t just bat her eyelashes at him and have him spilling his guts like most of the others. She would just have to trust that their destination really was close and that the anticipation wouldn’t eat her alive before they got there… 
Despite herself, Hitoka couldn’t help but bite her lip to suppress the giddy smile forming on her lips. This was everything she’d dreamed of; one couldn’t possibly describe the atmosphere as anything other than romantic. The warm spring breeze swirling around them and smelling of blooming flowers, the sun splaying their shadows behind them as they walked, the occasional brushes of their arms from standing so close together as they strolled along, the comfortable silence in the air as their fingers remained loosely linked together… Hitoka felt like she really was the star of her own cute shoujo novel, complete with hearts and sparkles and cute pink bubbles bursting from her body in a glowing aura! 
“We’re here.” 
Kei’s voice snapped her out of her blissful daydreaming. She hadn’t even realized they’d stopped walking, but there they were, standing in front of a small cream-colored building situated between a flower shop and a café. Hitoka definitely recognized the area of town, but she didn’t think she’d ever been to this place before. 
“‘Brushstrokes’?” she questioned, reading the vinyl stickers on the tinted black window dominating the left side of the storefront. It was in a swirly, elaborate font that blended with a stylized illustration of a dripping paintbrush. “Is this some kind of crafts store?” she guessed, turning to look inquisitively up at him. 
“Why don’t we just go in and find out?” he smirked back. Without waiting for Hitoka to answer, he tugged her over to the front door. When he stepped away from her to open the door, his fingers slipped from hers; she admittedly lamented the loss of delicate contact. However, the dejection was fleeting, replaced by a rush of wonder as Hitoka crossed the threshold and entered the store. 
Hitoka had been in numerous crafts stores throughout her life, given both her own and her mother’s interest in the arts. While their primary interest was graphic design, they sometimes got the urge to get hands-on with their projects; they had a well-stocked crafts room full of paints and canvases, sketchbooks and pencils, markers, oil pastels, scrapbooking paper, and all manners of odds and ends. That being said, her mother preferred to shop at nice, neat chain craft stores. This was clearly not one, and the difference had Hitoka reeling. 
Rather than sanitized white walls and tiles with orderly rows of shelves, Brushstrokes was bursting with color. The dark wood floors were blanketed in plush rugs with all manners of patterns and mandalic designs. The walls were painted a bright sky blue, but Hitoka could barely see them with all the canvases, metalworks, drawings, watercolors, tapestries, and various other bits and bobs plastered all over them. All of the craft supplies were arranged on bookshelves, ceiling-high lining the walls aside from two corners—one being the cashier’s desk and the other being a small lounge with two plush armchairs and a coffee table on which coloring books were piled high. The center of the store was dominated by three rows of chairs and blank canvases on easels facing a small platform, on which another blank easel sat. 
“Ahh! You signed us up for a painting class?” Hitoka squealed with delight, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down a little in her excitement. When she glanced up at Kei, her eyes gleaming, he just shrugged nonchalantly. The bashful smile pulling at his lips, though, betrayed how pleased he was with Hitoka’s excitement. 
“Yes. I happened to see an advertisement for it, and it looked like something you would enjoy.”
Hitoka’s heart swelled with affection and appreciation. He’d seen the advertisement and immediately thought of her? The notion was sweet enough to give her cavities; she could practically feel her teeth rotting out of her head. It wouldn’t have mattered if all her teeth had truly been black and decayed and rancid; the demure smile she gave him was still wide and full of joy, which made Kei’s own smile even brighter. 
“Come on, they should be starting soon. Let’s grab a spot,” he said, quickly turning away. Hitoka hid a giggle behind her hand. Kei could try and hide his happy blush all he wanted; she could still see his ears, burning bright red. 
They settled at a pair of chairs in the middle—not too far away from the instructor’s canvas to have difficulty seeing, but not so close as to potentially be uncomfortable. A pair of aprons, splattered with layers upon layers of paint from classes past, already hung on the chairs’ backs. Hitoka grabbed it and looped it over her head, but when she went to tie the strings around her back, she found that Kei’s deft fingers had already retrieved them. 
“Allow me,” he murmured behind her, and a pleasurable shiver traveled up Hitoka’s spine at the feeling of his breath puffing down at the top of her head. She never really registered how much bigger he was than her; but now that they were so intimately close, it was all she could think about. She was keenly aware of his broad chest behind her head, of one of his thick and long legs sliding closer to hers when he had to stoop a little, of the fact that even with him leaning down she could tilt her head all the way back and peer into his face. It was dizzying and exhilarating, so much so that when she felt Kei’s fingers tie the knot of the apron at her back and slip away, she was a little breathless though it had probably been less than ten seconds. 
“T-thank you,” she mumbled bashfully, sinking down into the chair before her legs could completely turn to jelly and give out on her. She was glad for it, too, because she felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Kei’s apron closely hugging his frame. She’d never noticed because he tended to wear baggier clothing, but he was actually quite muscular. Her eyes slowly roved from the broad planes of his chest to the way his dress shirt wrapped tightly around his arms—when had he buttoned his sleeves at his elbows?—and finally back up to his face. 
A hot flush followed by a cold rush pulsed through her, for Kei was smugly smirking. 
“Yes, Yacchan?” he asked expectantly. Oh, the devilish glint in his eyes should not excite her this much. 
Get a grip, Yacchan! This is Kei you’re talking about! The fact that she had been practically salivating over a guy she knew well was downright mortifying, and she almost buried her face into her hands. She had to be careful; she was beginning to lose herself in the illusion. But she also couldn’t let Kei know for sure that she had been ogling him, so she quickly recovered, tearing her gaze from him to look out at the blank easel on the platform. 
“I was just wondering what kind of painting they’re gonna have us do!” she exclaimed, much louder than socially acceptable in her agitated state. A few others had arrived at the class, and they turned in their chairs to s   quint at Hitoka. Red-faced, she ducked down behind the safety of her easel. Worst of all the eyes on her were Kei’s; she could feel his piercing stare burning into the side of her head. She meekly peered out of her peripheral vision to see him leaning a cheek in his hand while he smirked in amusement. 
Well, I suppose we’ve solved the schoolyard mystery of how confident Kei Tsukishima would be on a date. Frighteningly so! she lamented with an inward sigh. 
“Actually, they hold painting classes every afternoon and evening. You sign up for whatever painting you want to do,” Kei explained. 
“Oh?” Hitoka said, and the tiredness in her own voice made her cringe. Being all afluster sure was exhausting; how did these romance protagonists do it? Still, the frantic beating of her heart was settling and the blush was fading from her skin, allowing her to turn to face him properly. Her heart only jumped a little when she did, thankfully. “So what painting did you sign us up for?” 
Kei opened his mouth to answer—probably to tell her it was a surprise again—but shut it when someone else spoke first, a cheerful greeting. They both peeked around their easels to see the instructor walking up onto the stage, a canvas tucked under each arm. The one facing the audience was blank; the other had to be the masterpiece which they were to create. The instructor set her blank canvas on the easel, then pulled up a nearby stool to prop the painting up on it. 
“A… A dinosaur?” Hitoka drawled. She blinked, but the image painted upon the canvas did not shift. Sure enough, it was a cartoonish rendition of a brontosaurus munching on a branch, all doe-eyed and adorable. Now that Hitoka scanned the crowd, she found it mostly to be occupied by mothers and their young children. Hitoka slowly turned to look at Kei, who had his head pressed down against the table and covered by his arms. 
“... I like dinosaurs,” Kei admitted gruffly, and she could hear the mortification bleeding into his words. Hitoka laughed, prompting Kei to shift his arms just enough to see Kei’s uncertain eyes peering up at her. 
“No, no, don’t be embarrassed!” she reassured. “It’s perfect. It’s cute, so I like it, and it’s a dinosaur, so you like it. I think we’re very lucky they were offering a painting like this to do.” 
“Yeah?” Kei said as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, smile lopsided and hopeful on his face. When Hitoka nodded, he breathed deeply out of his nose. “I’m glad you like it,” he said simply, but there was something about it and his warm gaze that had Hitoka squirming in her chair. If she didn’t know any better, Kei was really happy that found his love of dinosaurs endearing. She tried not to think about it, for she simply didn’t know if her poor heart could take the possible implications. 
Remember, it’s just to take the edge off. 
Thankfully, the task at hand was not conducive for a wandering mind. The instructor jumped right in, prattling directions while her skillful hands painted the silhouette of the brontosaurus’ pale green body across the canvas. Hitoka, having no short amount of experience with paint, only half-listened to the woman; the finished piece was a sufficient enough guide for her. Within two minutes, Hitoka was already starting to paint the triangular scales upon the creature’s back, while the rest were still working on the base colors. Hitoka glanced over at Kei’s canvas, and the force of the laughter that burst from her lungs almost made her smear a line of dark green paint across her half-finished work. 
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“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, both wanting to look away for Kei’s sake but simply unable to do so. For what occupied Kei’s canvas was not the blocky outline of a brontosaurus, but some big-headed, snake-necked chunky potato blob. 
“Stop laughing,” Kei growled at her. Normally, his piercing stare and firm scowl would have her squeaking like a mouse in a cat’s claws. His abysmal skills were simply too hilarious, however; there was just no room for intimidation with the sheer amount of amused glee Hitoka contained. “I’m serious. It’s not funny,” he grunted, then turned his paintbrush to dab spring green paint on Hitoka’s cheek. 
The feeling of the wet paintbrush smearing over her skin was enough to bring Hitoka back to reality. That didn’t stop her from chuckling, though, as she grabbed a paper towel and dabbed the splotch off paint off her face. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she apologized through giggles. “It’s just—I guess with you signing us up for this class, I didn’t expect you to be a—ahem, a beginner.” 
Despite her careful choice of words, Kei still narrowed his eyes at her. Hitoka sucked her lips into her mouth to keep another burst of laughter from springing free. She’d made the mistake of looking at the nearby canvases, and some of the little kids’ renditions were too similar to Kei’s. He held up the paintbrush in warning, and she dug her fingernails into her legs hard enough to leave marks in her effort to keep from bursting into laughter again. 
And that’s how it went. At the beginning of all this, Hitoka had been so jarred by the fact that this was Kei Tsukishima she was on a blind date with, doing something no one would ever associate with the aloof and intimidating guy. She’d expected to be constantly barraged by a feeling of unnaturalness. The reality was anything but. It felt wholly and completely natural to Hitoka—the light in his eyes as he talked with her, the constant smile on his lips, the way his chair snuck closer and closer until their legs were pressed together… The way her heart thrummed in her chest the entire time, coupled with the sneaking suspicion that his heart was doing the same thing. 
The realization that she’d been on a date with Kei only snuck back into her mind when they were walking up her driveway, their finished paintings tucked under their arms and their pinkies looped loosely together between them. Hitoka didn’t even know when that had happened; she’d been entirely engrossed in conversation with him the entire walk home. He must have slyly done it somewhere in the middle, and it had felt so natural to Hitoka—touching in some way—that she hadn’t even registered it consciously. 
But it did now, and it made her face burn as an uncertain smile played over her lips. 
“What is it?” Kei asked, stopping immediately to look at her in concern. His keen awareness—more so, the fact that he had probably been quite in tune with her reactions and body language this entire time—only made Hitoka flush further. Kei undoubtedly knew that this night had blurred the borders between platonic and romantic for Hitoka, but Hitoka didn’t know what side of the fence he had settled on. And that scared her. 
She’d neglected to consider that a blind date with a friend came with the inevitable conclusion of rejection. It had to, right? At least with Kei. He was so utterly confident and poised throughout it all. Surely, if he’d harbored any interest in her before this, he would have asked her out already. Hitoka felt her heart sinking, falling like a rock through her chest to settle down in the soles of her feet. Kei had only done this to be nice, she realized with tears stinging her eyes. He had a soft spot for her as much as anyone else, and he’d done this to make her happy. But a soft spot was as far as his affection went. 
She knew that coming in. But she’d underestimated the allure of the illusion, and now, she’d gone and set herself up for a disaster. There would be no happy ending for Hitoka. She couldn’t just turn off the movie and end the story. No, she’d jumped right out of the screen, and her story was spiralling out of control. 
Hitoka sucked in a shaky breath, then quickly ducked her head from Kei’s view before he could see her tears reflect the yellow glow of the porchlight. 
“Man, that was fun!” she cried as she made to march toward her front door, hugging her painting to her chest. “Man, I’m tired, though. I should get to bed. Thanks for a fun ni—Oh!” 
Hitoka was once again struck by how much bigger and stronger Kei was than her, for it took no effort on his part at all to grab her by the arm and yank her back. Not hard, not painful—but firm, a silent warning that she wasn’t going anywhere without an explanation. She barely managed to plant herself in a part of the driveway bathed in shadow, and she meekly ducked her head as Kei loomed over her, breath falling into the strands of hair crowning her head like warm stardust. 
“Yes, Yacchan?” It wasn’t like when he’d asked her earlier—smug, confident, amused by the effect he had on her. It was the total opposite. His voice dripped with uncertainty, the first sign of vulnerability she’d seen all night. It made Hitoka’s heart lurch with guilt, but it was too overshadowed by the fear of tarnishing their friendship for her to say anything. She really had enjoyed herself. She wanted to keep hanging out with him, learn more and more about him, just like everyone else. 
If she made things awkward now, they would topple like dominoes, one after the other; if she ruined things with Kei here, she’d ruin it with all of them, and she would be left utterly alone. Hitoka didn’t want that. She’d rather spend the rest of her days trying to fill the void with romance novels, utterly deprived of that which she wanted dearly, than lose something she’d come to treasure so much. 
She wanted it so much, and she wanted it with Kei—but she bit down on her lip anyway, teeth sinking into the soft flesh until blood beaded up at the points of her teeth. It was all she took not to spite Kiyoko for this unfortunate turn, but Hitoka couldn’t bring herself to do it. Kiyoko had been trying to cheer her up, give her a momentary reprieve from her problems. It’s not her fault that Hitoka went and caught feelings she shouldn’t have. Tomorrow, when Kiyoko asked how it went, Hitoka would laugh and say that it was a fun date and that was that. No heartbreak. No disappointment. No crushing realization that in the end, it had made the gaping wound of Hitoka’s loneliness that much deeper. 
Hitoka opened her mouth to once again bid Kei goodnight, but the word froze in her throat when his hands suddenly cupped her cheeks. 
It reminded her of when he had met her on her doorstep, taking his hand in hers. Rough palms, yet so soft and tender in the way they held her. Hitoka’s eyes watered again, and she couldn’t stop the tears from slipping free to roll down her cheeks, not even as Kei slowly lifted her face. She especially couldn’t stop them when she was met with his expression, so tortured that it made her heart twist with guilt. She hated that she was hurting him, and he hated that he was hurting her. But only because he wanted to protect her, right? With that same platonic, brotherly affection all the rest of her regarded her with. No more than that, nothing more—
Yet Hitoka had to know, even if she knew she wouldn’t like the answer, nor what came after. 
“Why’d you agree to go on a date with me?” Once she’d blurted that out, everything else came tumbling out after, as much an unstoppable stream as her continuous tears. “Why? It’s just—of all people, I would have never expected—It can’t be because you really wanted this to amount to anything. Of course you didn’t, why would you? Because you don’t—” 
Her stammery babble was ceased by Kei’s lips enveloping hers in a firm, open-mouthed kiss. Hitoka froze, and then suddenly she was melting, knees knocking together and hands falling on his chest and eyes fluttering shut. He stole it all from her—her breath, her strength, and most of all, her sea of swirling emotions—like he was drinking it straight from her own mouth, and Hitoka didn’t mind one bit. In fact, she mourned the loss of his soft lips against hers when he pulled back, involuntarily voicing so in a small, keening whine. 
And there it was again, that smug little smirk that had Hitoka’s spine tingling like a live wire. 
“The answer’s easy. I agreed to go on a date with you because I like you, Hitoka.” 
Her heart somersaulted at him using her name, and even more at how good it sounded, rolling off his tongue like candy. Her cheeks were already warm with his hands pressed against them, but they flushed warmer still, heating up as his confession slowly registered in her mind. She swallowed, opened her mouth to speak, closed it when she couldn’t quite find what she wanted to say. Kei’s smirk acquired a bashful lilt, growing crooked as he tilted his head a little. 
“I should have known that Tadashi would blab about it to someone, but I didn’t expect it to be Kiyoko-senpai,” he sighed with a mix of bitterness and amusement. “And I especially didn’t expect her to corner me after practice one day and threaten that if I didn’t agree to do this and make my move, she was gonna set you up with Shouyou.” 
Hitoka’s mouth curled into a wan smile. Oh, Kiyoko truly was devilish, a master puppeteer of the woeful little marionettes that were the Karasuno volleyball team. 
“So, I told her ‘over my dead body,’ and here we are,” Kei summarized, looking back down at her with a slightly apologetic look. “Though I regret to find that my relationship skills are probably even worse than my painting skills.” He moved his pinky finger to catch a tear that had beaded on Hitoka’s lashes, and his smile crumpled at it smearing over his skin. “I never dreamed that this would end with me making you cry.” 
“Don’t apologize,” she insisted with a shake of her head. She reached up to grab onto his wrists; though they were slim, her fingers still couldn’t even make a complete ring around them. “I got way too in my head… I should have just come out and said what I was feeling.” 
Kei hummed at that, a thoughtful gleam glinting in his eyes. Hitoka squirmed under the weight of his gaze, though it was a place she also very much liked being. 
“I guess…” he drawled, and the slowness in the way he said it had Hitoka nearly bursting in anticipation. “Being honest about how we’re feeling is something we’ll have to get better at moving forward, isn’t it?” The purr rumbling in his chest—vibrating against Hitoka’s, for their bodies were still so close together—and the smoldering fire in his eyes as he gazed down at her was so distracting that it took Hitoka several seconds to realize what exactly he was implying. 
“O-oh!” she exclaimed as soon as the puzzle piece clicked into place. Going forward—oh, goodness, he wanted them to be official? A thing? A couple? “O-oh, oh dear, Kei, I think I’m gonna faint,” she groaned, the epiphany sending her spiraling into lightheaded vertigo. Kei just laughed, curling one arm around her smaller frame to keep her on her feet, and used the opportunity provided by her head flopping back to lean down and press a tender kiss to her forehead. It seemed he was hell-bent on rendering her unconscious, for he followed up with a little peck to her nose, and finally a lingering kiss to her trembling lips. 
When she mustered up the energy to grimace sourly at him, he just smirked, the cocksure bastard. 
“Just being honest,” he teased. 
Hitoka rolled her eyes and slapped weakly at his shoulder, but she made no effort to move. No, despite the whirlwind plot twist, she wanted to spend just a little more time in her debut story—a little more time in Kei’s warm embrace, in his strong arms and in his loving gaze. Even if she was stumbling blindly into the unknown… that made the adventure all the more exhilarating, didn’t it? 
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beelzeburgerr · 2 years
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guys i hate myself…….
yachi x yamaguchi x tsukishima
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maimeronaifu · 2 years
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weathertheraine · 1 year
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D2 with TsukiYamaYachi? And OiSugaKage with M1 or F3?
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Ty for the ask !! This one was so cute for tsukkiyamayachi, it’s perfect for their height differences haha :,,)
(To ring in the new year I’m finishing the abandoned requests from these templates I was doing last September! :D no new ones thank you!)
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innovativestruggles · 2 months
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My first post back and it's TsukiYachi again (what's new?)
I've recently been playing around with an assisted drawing program and I am totally hooked...since you know, I'm more of a writer than a drawer 😅 But the program has a lot of drawbacks so you can't always have full control over what you want to draw.
Please don't repost
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bluemallow-log · 2 years
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To celebrate Tsukishima Kei's birthday, please enjoy this tsukiyachi commission fanart that was given to me by airzawaaa (my mutual on Twitter) 🥹❤️
fun fact: unbeknownst to her, she actually sent this right on my birthday 😂 So, thank you so much Air, you made my (birth)day 😭🤚🏻
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hazyletter · 9 months
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kei who gets caught by yachi as he lovingly stares at tobio before tobio was about to serve and he just, double takes and panics for the second glance he took at yachi's knowing face because fuck, that wasn't supposed to happen. was he.. that obvious...?
the moment before they go their separate ways, yachi pulls a constipated-looking kei with a laugh before teasing him about why and how tobio and kei just solemnly looks at the scenery from above and curses himself over and over while yachi keeps laughing about his expression
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vampkaashis-wife · 1 year
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After marinating for most of the year I think I’ve figured out my tanakiyo idea
Whether I have the motivation to write it is another story
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