Thank you for stopping by! My name is Maddi, but you’ll often see me refer to myself as “shitty” in the tags, and I run this blog (*please note: this is a side blog, so you will see my main @anothermaddi in comments or liking posts*). I’m 23 and I use she/her/hers pronouns. I’m a recent uni grad with now too much time on her hands!
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*schedule currently under revision*
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See those tabs at the top of this post? Those will directly link you to the masterlists for the corresponding school. The bold lets you know where you are now! You can also search the blog for “#[school name] masterlist” (i.e. #karasuno materslist).
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I try to keep things pretty SFW here, but every now and then, we get thirsty 🥵 I tag any NSFW (even if it’s mildly nsfw) as “#shitty gets 🌶spicy🌶” and sometimes “#maddi gets 🥵🦵 on side” -> you can follow my nsfw blog for uncensored spicy content @come-on-spicy-boys
My requests are usually open.
So, feel free to jump in my ask box or direct messages with any ideas that you may have! Or you can come by just to chat and hang out with me!
Summary: the only thing scarier than a first date is a second date
There’s a lot of scary things to encounter in life. Complete darkness. The edge of a precipice. A spider wielding flamethrowers, riding into battle on the back of a saber-toothed tiger.
But, it was 6 p.m. in the middle of downtown, feet planted firmly on the sidewalk, and no arachnids with a thing for arson could be seen as far as he could tell. Still, Tsukishima Kei’s heart was threatening to pound out of his chest.
He had always considered first dates easy. After all, it’s not like he had anything to lose other than an hour and the price of a latte.
Except, you had been a full afternoon. The conversation flowed so naturally and your eyes had lit up as you talked on and on about something that he didn’t know anything about, but it had been endearing. And when you started blushing and apologizing for talking so much, he hadn’t hesitated to ask you if you’d like another drink while you continued this conversation, desperate to watch you smile for a few more hours. He was perfectly content to prop his chin on his hands and ask you questions, just so he could listen to you talk a little more. He had genuinely meant it when he walked you to the bus stop, telling you that he had a great time, that he’d like to see you again.
So when he had been walking to class alongside Yamaguchi, pulling out his phone at the vibration of a notification, he hadn’t been able to hide the pink twinge on his ears. A simple text asking to see him again, maybe dinner?
“Tsukki? You okay?”
“Mhmm. Fine.” And Tsukki had smiled through the entire thing, thumbs tapping over letters to confirm a time with you. How did Thai food sound? Friday night?
Honestly, he wanted to say that it was silly. His blood shouldn’t be pumping so hard through his body right now and he shouldn’t be thinking about how cute you looked when you laughed. He shouldn’t be pulling his phone out at every buzz, hoping to see your name flash across the screen, and he shouldn’t deflate when it was just his mom texting to check in. Nonetheless, he wasn’t sure the last time he had felt like this. There was just something about you that made him want to know everything about you. What was the best part of your day? What are your ambitions? Were you a cat person or a dog person? How did you like your eggs in the morning?
That’s why second dates were the worst.
First dates were just a test run. How was the conversation? Was there a connection? But, a second date? That’s where it all really comes out. The nervous jitters are gone and the ice is broken, so now it was a question of ‘could this be something?’
“Kei! Hey!”
The sound of your voice makes his heart pump faster and when he turns to look at you, the smile is involuntary. “Hey, it’s good to see you again,” he said, eyes taking in the soft flush of your cheeks in the chilly air. Absolutely adorable.
Tsukishima would never admit it to anyone, but he had genuinely been looking forward to this, had stressed too much about his outfit, spent too long making sure his hair wasn’t sticking up in a million different directions. Tsukki wasn’t usually one to be nervous. He had no problem approaching people and dropping a line or two until he got a phone number, but this? This had his palms sweating.
He liked you.
He liked you a lot.
Sure, it had only been one date, but shit. He’s not sure if he’d ever been on a date that had gone so well before. One where he had been surprised to look at the time only to realize that it had been three hours already.
And you seemed to really like him too. Or at least, he assumed as such, but it was hard for him to think too much when you stopped in front of him, eyes shining as you smiled. You looked so pretty, the soft illumination of the streetlights bouncing so perfectly against your face.
Suddenly, second dates became less scary. Sure, his heart was still pounding and he was overthinking every single second, but he slipped back into the rhythm of being with you with such ease. He laughed a little louder around you, smiled more often, talked more freely, opened up like a flower in the spring air to someone that he had just met, to someone that he wanted to keep meeting.
So when he walked up to the bus stop, fingers intertwined, he meant it when he asked to see you again. A third date, maybe the field museum?
You scared him a little when you didn’t answer right away. Maybe he’d misinterpreted the spark that he had felt? But then you’re tugging him down to your level, planting a kiss on his lips. It’s fleeting, but it’s enough to make his head spin, to make his ears burn. He’s so focused on the feeling of your hand against his face and the lingering sensation of his lips on yours that he almost misses your words.
Summary: the only thing scarier than a first date is a second date
There’s a lot of scary things to encounter in life. Complete darkness. The edge of a precipice. A spider wielding flamethrowers, riding into battle on the back of a saber-toothed tiger.
But, it was 6 p.m. in the middle of downtown, feet planted firmly on the sidewalk, and no arachnids with a thing for arson could be seen as far as he could tell. Still, Tsukishima Kei’s heart was threatening to pound out of his chest.
He had always considered first dates easy. After all, it’s not like he had anything to lose other than an hour and the price of a latte.
Except, you had been a full afternoon. The conversation flowed so naturally and your eyes had lit up as you talked on and on about something that he didn’t know anything about, but it had been endearing. And when you started blushing and apologizing for talking so much, he hadn’t hesitated to ask you if you’d like another drink while you continued this conversation, desperate to watch you smile for a few more hours. He was perfectly content to prop his chin on his hands and ask you questions, just so he could listen to you talk a little more. He had genuinely meant it when he walked you to the bus stop, telling you that he had a great time, that he’d like to see you again.
So when he had been walking to class alongside Yamaguchi, pulling out his phone at the vibration of a notification, he hadn’t been able to hide the pink twinge on his ears. A simple text asking to see him again, maybe dinner?
“Tsukki? You okay?”
“Mhmm. Fine.” And Tsukki had smiled through the entire thing, thumbs tapping over letters to confirm a time with you. How did Thai food sound? Friday night?
Honestly, he wanted to say that it was silly. His blood shouldn’t be pumping so hard through his body right now and he shouldn’t be thinking about how cute you looked when you laughed. He shouldn’t be pulling his phone out at every buzz, hoping to see your name flash across the screen, and he shouldn’t deflate when it was just his mom texting to check in. Nonetheless, he wasn’t sure the last time he had felt like this. There was just something about you that made him want to know everything about you. What was the best part of your day? What are your ambitions? Were you a cat person or a dog person? How did you like your eggs in the morning?
That’s why second dates were the worst.
First dates were just a test run. How was the conversation? Was there a connection? But, a second date? That’s where it all really comes out. The nervous jitters are gone and the ice is broken, so now it was a question of ‘could this be something?’
“Kei! Hey!”
The sound of your voice makes his heart pump faster and when he turns to look at you, the smile is involuntary. “Hey, it’s good to see you again,” he said, eyes taking in the soft flush of your cheeks in the chilly air. Absolutely adorable.
Tsukishima would never admit it to anyone, but he had genuinely been looking forward to this, had stressed too much about his outfit, spent too long making sure his hair wasn’t sticking up in a million different directions. Tsukki wasn’t usually one to be nervous. He had no problem approaching people and dropping a line or two until he got a phone number, but this? This had his palms sweating.
He liked you.
He liked you a lot.
Sure, it had only been one date, but shit. He’s not sure if he’d ever been on a date that had gone so well before. One where he had been surprised to look at the time only to realize that it had been three hours already.
And you seemed to really like him too. Or at least, he assumed as such, but it was hard for him to think too much when you stopped in front of him, eyes shining as you smiled. You looked so pretty, the soft illumination of the streetlights bouncing so perfectly against your face.
Suddenly, second dates became less scary. Sure, his heart was still pounding and he was overthinking every single second, but he slipped back into the rhythm of being with you with such ease. He laughed a little louder around you, smiled more often, talked more freely, opened up like a flower in the spring air to someone that he had just met, to someone that he wanted to keep meeting.
So when he walked up to the bus stop, fingers intertwined, he meant it when he asked to see you again. A third date, maybe the field museum?
You scared him a little when you didn’t answer right away. Maybe he’d misinterpreted the spark that he had felt? But then you’re tugging him down to your level, planting a kiss on his lips. It’s fleeting, but it’s enough to make his head spin, to make his ears burn. He’s so focused on the feeling of your hand against his face and the lingering sensation of his lips on yours that he almost misses your words.
Request: Hellooo Maddi!! I hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself! 💞 This is sorta random but you know those kissing hcs you did with Tanaka and Tendou? Could I request some with Tsukki, Daichi, Nishinoya, and Bokuto? (Am soft rn and I wanna kith them so bad 🥺👉👈) If that’s too many then you can just pick however many you wanna do! Thanks queen, ily!! <3
Warnings: some swearing
Word Count: 1.5K (~500 a piece)
Notes: please this isn’t random i wanted to do more of these and i’ve just been waiting for someone to tell me to do more
Tsukishima Kei
Listen, Tsukki always tries to play it cool, trying to be suave, but his first kiss with you had him p a n i c k i n g
He kept telling himself that it didn’t matter, but this was his first kiss ever and what if you had kissed someone before and thought he was shit just because he was inexperienced?
He was definitely added into a group chat with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi where Bokuto and Kuroo just hype him up and try to convince him to just fucking kiss you already
Tsukishima just wanted them off of his back. Don’t get me wrong, he also wanted to finally kiss you, but please they ask him every single day. He just wants to say, “Yes, I kissed them. Leave me alone.”
Kdhfesifb he’s walking you home when it happens. It’s dark and you just look so pretty all illuminated by the street lamps that he just stops and takes your chin between his thumb and index finger
He’s got some dumbass smirk on his face because you’re looking up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Tsukki won’t lie. He thought that was super cute.
But he lifts your face towards his, leaning down to give you this really gentle kiss, nothing like you ever would’ve expected from him. And he wants to call you an idiot when he pulls away, but he’s so fucking flustered that best he can do is bring his hand up to his lips and look away from you.
He really thought he was slick, looking away from you to hide his blush. Smh everyone knows that you’re blushing like an absolute fool, Tsukishima. It’s okay.
He doesn’t mind leaning down to kiss you. If anything, he likes having to lean down. He thinks that your height difference is kind of cute, no matter how big or small it is.
Tsukishima gets so embarrassed about kissing you??? Literally what for? But when he’s feeling especially like an angsty teen, he’ll playfully kinda shove you away after. People think it’s rude, but you know him too well. So, please. Tease the shit out of him every single time he does that.
He likes to hold your chin because it makes him feel in charge, but if you slide your hands down his chest and over his stomach? He’s going to get weak in the knees and it’s not fair that you have that effect on him, because he’s supposed to get you weak >:C
If you instigate the kiss, he’s going to make fun of you for being needy and he’ll joke that if you want it so badly, you have to work for it, because he’s not going to lean down for it. But, give it like two minutes of you jumping or trying to climb him and he’ll roll his eyes and bend down to kiss you.
and those plans deserve to come to life! Need and want are two very different things so I understand about the not needing another pack, but do you want another pack? 👀👀👀
I crave nothing more than to build K.Ink and Seven Deadly Tattoos right down the street form one another 😩
one day I’ll finally write that ridiculously elaborate fanfiction that I’ve been carefully constructing in my daydreams for months and then you’ll be sorry. you’ll all be sorry.
*The nature of this series may be not be appropriate for all readers. Content warnings include: vulgarity, heavy swearing, and implications of adult relations. Due to these themes, this series may not be suitable for readers under the age of 16. Reader discretion is advised.*
Heavy silence filled the air, the only sound being the soft scratch of Kuroo’s red ink pen marking across the small stack of pages you had handed over to him. Homework was due by the end of the day on Friday, so there you were, the clock continuing its monotonous ticking as seconds turned into minutes, trying not to focus too much on just how much he was marking your page. Maybe he was just making stars by all of your perfect lines?
You had to bite back your scoff. Praise? From Kuroo? That was a joke. You’d be lucky if he wrote a “Good Job!” at the top of your homework, but the way he was holding his head in his free hand didn’t make you like your chances.
Kuroo swivels in his chair, finally turning to face you. There are no words as he holds the stack of pages out to you, just annoyance shifting in amber eyes. He watches you as your eyes drift from his face down to the paper in his hand. You don’t even need to look at the other pages to know that he’s failed you. Red circles and Xs litter the page.
“Nice try, kid, but you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to tattoo,” Kuroo says, pushing your work into your hands as he stands from his chair.
You quickly thumb through your stack of paper, eyeing all of those stupid little lines with all of those stupid little marks to showcase your failure, a physical reminder that you’re not cut out for this. You can feel the frustration bubbling up in your chest. A week’s worth of work is about to be fed to the recycling bin and you were going to have nothing to show for it.
Breath. Just breath.
While this has already become one of the most frustrating and grating experiences of your life, forced to scrub toilets and tile floors until you could see your reflection, treated like you didn’t belong by the one person who brought you into his space, you couldn’t let that fucking bastard see you break this early. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction of knowing that every muscle in your body was screaming at you to just give up and take the easy route down the street.
A deep breath in and out. Your fingers unfurl from the deathgrip that they had held. It’s too early to let him see you defeated. Chin up. You will do this.
“Are you going to at least tell me what my problem is or are you just going to tell me that I’m doing it wrong?” You ask, eyes following your so-called mentor as he attempts to walk away from you.
Kuroo doesn’t even give you the decency of a falter in his step, pulling his jacket from the hook on the wall, shouldering it on. “Maybe on Monday, kid. I don’t have time for you tonight.”
“What? Hot date with your hand?”
His unamused stare is your only response before he turns away, taking his scarf and wrapping it around his neck. Kuroo does a quick pat of his pockets, working his way through a mental checklist of essential items. Keys, wallet, phone… A nod to himself as each item is in its rightful place on his person.
“Kuroo.”
“Y/N.”
And just like that, it’s like your brain short circuited. Your name dripping from his tongue for the first time since you’ve known one another. There wasn’t even a sneer as he said it, just an even cadence of the syllables, and he’s looking at you with expectant eyes as if you’re going to tell him something life changing. It’s just those amber eyes staring into yours and you swear that given the opportunity you would pass out right there. You nearly forgot how attractive he was when he wasn’t being such a complete and utter asshole. The sharp jawline, the perfectly mussed hair, the far too attractive sculpt of his shoulders in that jacket-
He snaps at you, bringing you back to reality. Whatever Kuroo that had been standing in front of you merely seconds ago was replaced by that dull, annoyed stare of the mentor that you had come to know and not love in the slightest. “You have something to say or are you just testing out how my name sounds?”
“Tonight.”
“Tonight what, kid? You’re really starting to get on my last fucking n-”
“You’re showing me tonight,” you state, trying to make yourself appear taller, pushing your shoulders back, leveling him with that same boredom that he gave to you on an hourly occurrence.
“I already told you-”
“And I don’t care. Tonight and I’ll have the assignment back to you on Monday. Perfect.” There’s a moment of hesitation in him, you can see it in the way his eyes flicker from you to the clock on the wall. “Please,” you add.
He must’ve heard that quiet desperation in your voice, because Kuroo sighs, removing his scarf and coat. “Fine. But if they aren’t perfect, you owe me double on Friday. Sit,” he orders as he reaches your side, pulling his chair out for you.
Kuroo takes your failed assignment from you, laying it out on the desk before grabbing a fresh pen. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you think is wrong?”
You take a moment, examining all of those lines on the page. It was hard to pick out the mistakes when there were just so many. Breath.Stop thinking about how good his fucking cologne smells. Lines, Y/N. Focus.
It’s like torture, staring at your handiwork all marked in failure, forcing yourself to further examine exactly what you had done. “They’re shaky,” you finally say. Not a lie. There were plenty of lines that had been circled that had more than a slight wiggle to the stroke.
Kuroo nods, pointing out a few that exemplified what you had said. “I would guess that your grip was too tight, drawing too much with your wrist rather than your whole arm, so any imperfections were just amplified. But, a little shake is to be expected. We’re people, not robots. The uneasiness of your lines is definitely a problem, but that’s not my major issue with this assignment.”
He pauses, taking a moment to pull a stool over to sit next to you. “Look here. This is happening on a lot of your lines. It’s like you get to the end of your stroke and just give up,” he says, circling a large section of your work. As soon as he points it out, you can see exactly what he’s talking about, there’s a drift in every single one of your lines as you pull away. Clean, straight lines becoming sloppy at the last moment, an easy fix on paper and a near impossible one on someone’s skin.
“You need to pull all the way to the end and lift up. Don’t let your hand pull you one way just because you’re done. It’s an easy habit to fall into. I mean, it feels natural to just let your hand fall like that, but that’s you end up with all sorts of fucked up lines on someone’s skin. Draw with your whole arm and when you’re done, pause and then lift straight up. It’s going to take some getting used to, but this is what I was saying when your technique was shit. Someone has to humble you before you fuck someone up for the rest of their life.”
“I’m pretty sure you can humble someone without making them do your drycleaning,” you say, casting a sidelong glance at him.
The corner of his mouth twitches into a soft smirk. “You’re probably right, but it keeps you out of my hair for a couple hours so I can work without you breathing down my neck.”
An eye roll from you is followed by a snort from him. “You could’ve just told me to fuck off, you know.”
“I’m pretty sure I do, kid, but you’re just a complete pain in my ass every time,” he says. And then you’re laughing, a smile on your face that has him completely enamored, unable to keep a smile from his own lips. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, suddenly hyper aware of how close the two of you were sitting, the way your shoulder brushed against his when you moved.
Fuck.
“Lines.” He really doesn’t know if he’s saying it for you or for himself, snapping you both back to the present moment, pushing a pen into your hands. He clears his throat, moving his stool away from you in an effort to dull his racing heart. “Show me your lines.”
You just nod, taking your time to steady your hands before doing a single pull on the page. You try your best to do what he had said, to stop and lift, but it’s like your body just resorts to it’s natural habit of giving up right at the end of your stroke.
“Draw with your whole arm, not just your wrist. Again,” Kuroo says, getting up from his stool to stand behind you. “Here, like this.” Before you have the chance to object, he places a gentle hand on your elbow to help guide your pull, stopping you at the end of your line. “Perfect,” he breathes. “How did that feel? Did you notice the difference?”
His voice is right next to your ear, each word warm against your skin, sending that all too familiar shiver down your spine with each reverberation. Kuroo’s hand is still on you and you’re all too aware of the pads of his fingers on your arm, a roughness to them from years of the vibration of a tattoo machine. If he noticed the way that your breathing faltered, he was kind enough to not say anything about it.
“Kur- oh! Yo, my bad. Didn’t realize you were busy.” Bokuto’s overwhelming cadence has you both jumping, quickly separating as if you had just been caught by your parents. His eyes are darting between the both of you, brows furrowed as he tries to connect the dots in his head.
Kuroo clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. He’s staring at his shoes, trying to avoid eye contact with the piercer, hoping that he won’t notice the tinge of red that has crept up to the tips of his ears. “No, you’re fine. We were just wrapping up.”
Your cue. Anyone with an ounce of sense about them can feel the overwhelming awkward energy in the air as you stand from the chair, quickly putting your things in your bag. “I’ll see you Monday, Kuroo. Sorry for keeping you,” you say, shouldering your things as you make the suddenly far too long walk from the desk to the door. Silence hangs in the air, only disrupted by our sneakers against the floor. You pause just as you’re about to leave Kuroo’s office, just once to catch those amber eyes that are watching you intently.
“Have a good weekend, kid.”
Quiet fills the shop once again until the twinkling of the bell over the door alerts everyone of your departure.
If only that quiet stayed, because the minute the door closes, Bokuto’s eyes are wide as he shouts, “Akaashi! Team meeting!”
“Y/N literally just left. Can’t this wait until- Why does Kuroo look like he just got grounded?” Akaashi says, rounding the corner to pause next to Bokuto.
“He has a thing for them! The apprentice!”
Kuroo’s head shoots up, eyes rolling as a look of exasperation takes over his features. “I do not! I was helping them with their assignment.”
There isn’t a single look of belief on Bokuto’s face as he pulls Akaashi in front of him to recreate the scene that had happened only minutes before. The hand on the elbow, the whisper of words directly into the ear. “How’s that? Does that feel good? Dude!” With an incredulous shout, Bokuto is pushing away from Akaashi, just a prop in his display. “What fucking porno was I about to walk in on?!”
“You’re being ridiculous, Bokuto! Nothing happened and nothing is going to happen!”
“God, not if you did that,” Akaashi shudders, brushing himself off. “That just gave me a major case of the ick. No wonder you’re still single. Besides, they’re seeing Daishou, aren’t they?”
“They literally said that it wasn’t a date.”
“You were pretty insistent on calling it a date.”
“It wasn’t a date!”
Akaashi’s hands go up in surrender, taking a step away. “Fine. It wasn’t a date, Kuroo. They just got dinner and a few drinks. He probably walked her home and that was it.” Everyone can hear the lies in his words. They all saw them, the little round bruises that you had tried to cover with makeup. But you were going to need one hell of a concealer to hide the deep purple of a hickey marked onto your skin.
Kuroo doesn’t even have time to respond before he’s being hit in the face with his jacket. Bokuto is standing over him, an expectant look etched onto his features. “We’re getting drinks because someone has some fucking explaining to do and for once, it’s not me.”
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