#ALSO. ALSO. i know that this is very cliche or cheesy or overdone but its really fun and i just do this bc its fun… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

werebutch · 2 years

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pls tell me abt scotch and atlas <3

OK so glad you asked i hope i can make this. Like. Understandable. THANK YOU so much for asking..<3

Scotch and atlas are inseparable. They’ve been best friends since they were 14ish, and even though atlas kinda hated him at first, he eventually found scotch’s obnoxiousness comforting + fun compared to his own silence. I relate to atlas a lot in this way lol. They were quite a duo in high school as class clown and off-putting loner. It’s junior or senior year when scotch tells atlas about his feelings for him. They’ve always been close, and lots of times mistaken for partners, but atlas doesnt know how to handle this confession. He largely ignores it, but not in a purposefully mean way.

During the stretch of time before atlas realizes his own feelings about scotch, he’s very protective over and sensitive to him. He drops anything for him, which actually got him in a lot of trouble in his actual relationships. Bros before hoes is what they both live by really… its a classic case of being SOOOO best friends you dont realize its a crush.

By the time atlas meets seraph (his official partner), he and scotch have become very comfortable in their relationship. They finally live like lovers. Very good ones. And seraph kinda…. Comes along and fucks it all up. This is probably the part that made u send this ask LMFAO <3. Atlas falls head over heels for them. He is obsessed for REAL they are like a dream to him. Classic (overused and cheesy..) dynamic of soft and rough. Red and blue. Innocence and corruption. Lamb of god and… i dont know. You know what i mean, i could go on. This is all going while scotch watches, very aware of all of it. He’s fine with it, really, its not like he and atlas are really dating. Atlas can do what he wants, he’s pretty sure he’s still his number one. WELL.

Until he’s not. Atlas had told seraph about scotch, that this is how it is and he cant choose them over him and vice versa. Seraph didnt like that. I dont want to make seraph out to be the bad guy, because they aren’t at all. I dont think they’re doing anything wrong by being upset atlas wants to keep his fwb+ thing going on with his buddy. I don’t think they’re a bad person for asking him to end that relationship. He doesn’t, of course, but atlas does tell scotch about it. Scotch is angry, but mostly scared. He kind of has a whole breakdown because as atlas gets more and more involved with seraph, he sees less and less of him. It really feels like its the end, and they will go back to being just friends with added …tension.

That’s not the end of the story but its all i have pretty much in stone. The rest keeps changing as the story grows LOL. Sorry if this is too long, i never know how to talk about my characters without giving the entire backstory. This is just the surface of it, there is a lot more things happening in between but i didnt want this to go on forever ehehe or be too confusing. I dont know whether im going to have them grow apart, have seraph slowly accept scotch, or have something horrible go down where seraph leaves/is left. Probably whatever is more dramatic and sad, but thats different depending on if youre rooting for seraph or scotch more lol. Anyways. TY FOR ASKING omfg iz soo long….

#i feel weird talking so much about my characters relationship drama but it really is intertwined with the story #there is no separating it from all the other stuff NOT romance related..#character relationships are very important to me.#asks #litchkiing #ALSO. ALSO. i know that this is very cliche or cheesy or overdone but its really fun and i just do this bc its fun…#i dont need it to be revolutionary.. i like working with them. i really like that i get to have an edgy lone werewolf character who wears #red and black and plays bass in a stupid industrial metal band. ITS GREAT #<- genre is not in stone. it changes depending on my mood.#oc posting

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kythed · 3 years

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“teenage wasteland.” kuroo tetsurou x reader

4:08pm.

“yo,” kuroo says, opening the door quickly after you ring the bell, “you finally made it.”

“what do you mean, finally?” you complain, kicking off your shoes and slipping inside. the dry heat of his family home’s living room assaults your bare face, a sharp contrast to the december frigidity outside. “you texted me like ten minutes ago.”

“felt like longer,” kuroo says with a crooked grin. “you want something to drink?”

“water?”

“I kinda meant something stronger, but sure, water,” kuroo says, filling a glass at the kitchen sink. you furrow your brows.

“something stronger? I’m sorry, but last time I checked we were still underage,” you say, and kuroo laughs breathily — it’s almost a giggle, actually. for the first time since arriving, you notice an odd flush in his cheeks. “oh my god. are you drunk?”

“drunk?” kuroo gasps. “no, no. tipsy, yes. drunk, no.”

“tetsurou,” you scold, reluctantly letting him pull you towards the hallway. “all those big, bad college boys can’t have been a very good influence on you.”

“I’ve had a stash of jack daniels hidden beneath my bed since sophomore year,” kuroo whispers conspiratorially. “those ‘big, bad college boys’ have nothing to do with it. speaking of which — you want some?”

you shake your head vehemently and dig your heels into the carpet, realizing he’s trying to drag you into his bedroom. despite being kuroo tetsurou’s official best friend of a decade, you’ve never been inside his room before. you’ve never been inside any boy’s room before, actually — you’ve never been much of a rule breaker.

(you suppose that’s why you and kuroo get along. you’re forever the straight-laced goody goody, and he’s forever the secretly bad, outwardly good honor roll kid.)

“I don’t drink,” you insist, and kuroo loops his arms around your neck. you stiffen. “and stop being so touchy. it’s freaking me out.”

“what?” kuroo says, feigning offense. “you don’t like my hugs?”

“no!” you say, and he shoots you an exaggerated eye roll. “you’re being weird. I can probably count the number of times you’ve voluntarily hugged me on one hand.”

kuroo ignores you, choosing to instead pick you up and toss you over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“kuroo tetsurou, you’d better quit it before I call your mother!” you pound on his back, a little taken aback to feel his shoulder muscles rippling under your palms as he staunchly marches you into his room. “I do not want to enter your disgusting cave of a room, you teenage garbage troll!”

“getting real creative with the insults there,” kuroo laughs, setting you down and backing up against the door to block you from running out. “come onnnnn. I thought we could play a game of monopoly or something. listen to the radio. finish the bottle before my mom comes home and whips my hide.”

you sigh and perch your hands on your hips. “so that’s why you invited me over.”

“no, no,” kuroo protests, crouching to pull a clear bottle of amber colored liquid out from beneath his bed. “I also just vastly enjoy your company.”

“why not just throw it out?” you ask, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed.

kuroo’s room is a lot neater than you imagined it would be — navy bedspread tightly tucked in at the corners, vinyl floor completely clear save for a small rug. his desk is probably the messiest part of the entire room, holding an old, chunky desktop that’s covered in post-its with smudged, scribbled notes, ranging from “email prof. miyazawa about missing grade” to “buy mom flowers to apologize for broken mug.”

there are a couple posters on the wall, too, one for the japanese national volleyball team, and one for some punk-looking band dressed in an overabundance of leather, ripped denim, and hair feathers.

“this shit was expensive,” kuroo says, gesturing to the bottle before screwing the cap off and taking a long draught. your eyes widen as he drinks down a quarter of the remaining liquid, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “I can’t let it go to waste.”

“I think you’ve probably had enough of that,” you say, gently twisting it from his hands. kuroo smiles angelically before coming to tower over you.

“if you’re not gonna drink it, I will,” he says, reaching out to grasp the bottle’s neck. you hold onto it stubbornly.

“you’re clearly wasted, tetsu,” you say. “just let me throw it away.”

“I may have a small drinking problem,” kuroo says, “but I’m sober enough to know I’m not about to throw away the fifty bucks I spent on that. give it.”

“no!”

“yes.”

“nooooo!”

“yes!”

kuroo tries to wrench the bottle from you, and you spend a solid thirty seconds wiggling in his grasp before finally pulling it away. in an impulsive attempt to keep kuroo from getting even drunker, you bring the rim of the bottle to your lips and chug the rest of the whiskey.

kuroo’s eyes widen, and he guffaws loudly. “that was a lot of alcohol just now.”

you nod, wincing at the acrid taste, unwilling to swallow — the liquid is still swishing in your cheeks. you move to go spit it out in kuroo’s sink, but he grabs your arm.

“do not spit that out,” he warns. “that’s over two hours’ worth of minimum wage salary. I don’t work twenty hours a week in the wendy’s drive-thru just for you to flush it down the drain.”

“mmmm,” you protest, breathing through your nose. “hrghhhh mmm mm mhm.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say,” kuroo says, obviously trying to stifle his laughter.

you gesture wildly to your face, and then to the empty bottle, and then back to your face.

for a moment, kuroo wrinkles his nose, and then slowly smoothes out his expression. a small smile stretches across his lips, and he steps close to you. you’re acutely aware of your personal bubble being popped, as well of the fact that he smells strongly of old spice and mango body wash.

“I’ll do it then.”

“mm?” you squeak in confusion when he takes your chin in one hand and guides your face close to his. you’re not sure if you’re smelling the alcohol on his breath or tasting it on our own tongue. you’ve never been this physically close to your best friend in your life, and you can firmly say you’re absolutely petrified. you shake your head vehemently as he slowly leans down, tilting his head.

“calm down,” he says quietly, and in spite of yourself, you do. “I’m just taking a drink.”

then he presses his mouth to yours, and you freeze. oh, shit.

kuroo wedges his tongue between your lips, forcing them open, and then he sucks the whiskey from your mouth, one hand keeping your jaw open while the other snakes around your waist. your eyes widen just as his close, almost as if he’s enjoying the kiss. slowly, you close yours too, letting yourself melt into him as he keeps kissing you even after swallowing the liquid.

it lasts for a good ten seconds before you reluctantly pull away, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. he’s smiling, evidently very pleased with himself.

“what the hell was that?” you say breathlessly, searching his face.

“I was thirsty,” kuroo says nonchalantly. “and a little drunk. and you’re very pretty, as far as best friends go.”

you feel like you should be offended, yet you can’t quite bring yourself to be. you’re definitely flustered, though, and a little embarrassed. (okay, a lot embarrassed.)

“I think, um, I think I should go,” you say, breaking eye contact. kuroo raises a hand to stop you, but you brush him off, bounding out of the room to grab your bag and keys from the kitchen counter. “we can talk about this later, okay? you need to go take a nap or something.”

“no, hey, wait —”

but you’re already out the door and in the car, jamming the key into ignition. you just kissed your best friend. or did you? does that count as a kiss? or was that just kuroo being stupid? your mind spins with useless speculations on the drive home, and as you sprawl out on your bed for an hour afterwards. it’s not until later that evening that you check your phone, greeted by a handful of social media notifications… and a text from kuroo.

with shaking hands, you swipe it open, face immediately splitting into a grin.

kuroo: sorry about that

kuroo: ok, not really

kuroo: I’m not that sorry

kuroo: cuz you’re a good kisser

kuroo: a really good kisser

you: you too

you wait for a moment as the three little dots on kuroo’s side pop up.

kuroo: thanks

kuroo: I was still kind of stupid tho

kuroo: my b

you: you regret it?

your fingers shake in suspense as you await his answer, feeling all the world like a lovestruck fifteen year old. you’re a little disgusted to find yourself suddenly crushing on kuroo tetsurou of all people, but what can you say? maybe falling for your best friend is a little cliche. maybe it’s a little overdone. maybe the fact that you kissed him with a mouthful of whiskey belongs in a cheesy teen movie, but you can’t help but find yourself delighted that it happened.

kuroo: nope. not at all.

kuroo: not at all.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshots #tw: alcohol #meg ur comment on my shitpost inspired me #HEH #hihqnetwork

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winteriron-trash · 6 years

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Have you ever thought of writing something urban fantasy? Like vampires ro witches?

To be honest, fanfiction or not, fantasy has never really been my genre of choice. I enjoy some urban fantasy, but I’m incredibly picky about it. It’s a balancing act between cheesy/outlandish and dark/gritty. Especially when you ‘re using more ‘cliche’ concepts such as vampires or witches. And how do you make it your own? It’s been done a thousand times, what makes your vampires unique? What sets your witches out from the crowd?

I think a story that relies on its’ fantasy element is bound to be cliche. It can be an element in the story, but it can’t be the driving factor. Your story just won’t have a chance at being decently original. I think if I ever really committed myself to a fantasy story, I’d try to adhere to that rule. Could I write something with vampires or witches? Sure, probably. But that wouldn’t be the main focus of the story. It’d be an element of the story. Like having a blonde character. Yes, the character is blonde and yes that’s made clear, but her blondness is not the main focus of the story.

And it’s so crucial to urbanize it. People simply don’t care about witches with pointy hats or vampires living in a cave. We’re past that in mainstream media. You have to integrate it into a modern story. People want stories to be relatable. You can’t relate to Count Dracula living up in Trannsylvania, but you can relate to a girl named Tina who’s shy and sweet but also casts a mean protection spell, you know?

And I think the biggest thing of all I’d avoid if I were writing a fantasy, is the ‘chosen one’ cliche, or the ‘reluctant hero’. First of all, everyone’s the chosen one these days. Sure, back when Harry Potter did it, it was a cool thing, but now it’s old news. Nobody gives a damn about the hero and a prophecy. If there’s a prophecy, there’s a sense of forced finality to it, and that always bores me. He’s the chosen one? Oh, that means you’ve just basically confirmed a happy, good ending. That’s no fun to me. I like the chance, the risk. And the reluctant hero trope kills me. How many times have you read a fantasy where the protagonist finds out or even already knows they’re mystical in some way, and they hate it? They just want to be normal! She just wants to be a normal girl! He wants to be able to hang out with normal people! She never asked to be a hero! God, I’m so sick of that. Sure, you can have a hero who doesn’t exactly like the path they’re on, but there are better ways to give them that attitude than the “I just want to be normal! I never asked to be a hero!” especially considering it always ends with them accepting their hero role and loving themselves for it and so on. I get it’s supposed to be an ‘accepting yourself’ inspirational sort of thing, but I find it boring and overdone. Give me a hero whose pissed because they wanted to be the villain but accidentally ended up here. Give me a hero who very badly wants to be the hero, but also very clearly sucks at it. That sounds interesting.

Another problem I have with fantasy is its big cop out with making the hero a hero. You take a character (usually a teenager because of fucking course) who has no fucking experience with anything, has the fighting style and skill of a potato, and yet they’re still the most powerful being to walk the earth. Because reasons. Oh, your protagonist is literally a basic teenage girl? It’s okay, she was born with her abilities and just hasn’t realized it yet. He was born to be the most powerful warlock in all realms. You know? Cut that shit. Give me a hero who has to work for it. And I don’t just mean two weeks of half-assed training that now magically makes them able to perfectly wield their weapon of choice. Give me a character whose training correlates with their skill. And make that character the best! So often I’ve seen the character who’s been training their whole life -usually the bad guy for some reason- get bested by some rookie ‘chosen one’. It pisses me off and gives off the idea that you can just magically get what you want if you want it enough.

Wow, I got off track.

My point is, I’d be hesitant to write urban fantasy just because I have a lot of problems with the genre as a whole. Would I hypothetically write it if I had a good prompt or idea? Sure. But it has to be good. If I wrote fantasy, I would be breaking a lot of the rules that would’ve made it a typical fantasy story. I want what I write to be fresh and innovative. Sure, everything has been done before, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to follow the crowd.

So all in all, yes. I have thought about it, and given the chance, I likely would. But there’d be a lot of circumstances and clauses with it.

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