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evanchantingpeters · 1 year ago

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T(h)rust in me, I’m not over you... (Fanfic - Alex from Adult World)

Pairings ─ Alex (from Adult World) x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff

Summary ─ Y/N and Alex (aka Evan Peters in Adult World) are exes who haven’t quite let go. A friend’s birthday party turns into a comedy of errors when a black-out drunk Y/N accidentally enters Alex’s postcode as her own for a cab ride home. As Alex finds her at his doorstep and takes her in his place, old feelings resurface and steamy times go down in his bathroom.

Warnings ─ Swearing, smut, unprotected sex p in v, drinking, oral (m receiving), rough sex, nipple teasing, hangover sex, doggy, pretty smutty guys you’re being warned :)

Word count ─ 3.7K

18+ > If you’re a minor, DO NOT read!

The birthday cake of your friend, Beatrice, stands proudly in the centre of her living room, decked out in colourful frosting and flickering candles.

You and the rest of the guests belt out the overdone ‘Happy Birthday’ song in what you think is perfect harmony. But here comes Jerry, Beatrice’s younger brother, who starts hollering the lyrics off-key, stealing the show.

Snorting, the birthday girl nudges her brother away, leaning over the cake to blow out the candles. Just as she’s mouthing her wish, Jerry, wearing a wicked grin, swoops in and dips his sister’s face right into the cake.

The room erupts in uproarious laughter as Beatrice’s expression goes from shocked to amused. She taps her cake-covered eyes to remove some chocolate. Then, she turns to Jerry with a look that’s half playful, half ‘I’m plotting revenge.’

“You’re in for it now, Jerry!” she barks. And just like that, an all-out frosting war breaks out, turning the room into a sugar-fuelled battlefield. Cake crumbs are flying in every direction, but you manage to dodge most of it with only a few cake-bulleted stains along the hem of your black dress.

You retreat to a corner of the room, sipping your Prosecco like you’re watching sitcom chaos unfold from afar. Suddenly, you notice a stranger in a fancy tux sauntering over, a sly grin playing on his plump lips.

“Well, looks like you’ve stayed mostly unscathed… or shall I say un-caked?�� he chirps, his voice deep and throaty as he nods toward the cake war raging on.

You just shrug, tossing him a faint, uninterested smile, “Good reflexes, I guess,” you quip, giving him a quick once-over before turning back to the cake madness. You feel his dark green eyes scanning you as if you’re going through airport security.

He chuckles, and leans in. “If you need someone to scrub the marks off your dress, I’m your guy,” he whoops, playfully thumping his chest. He extends his hand with an inviting smile. “Tony.”

“Y/N,” you reply bluntly, your energy matching that of a deflated balloon.

Unfazed by your meh vibes, Tony decides to turn up the heat on the handshake, taking you aback as he begins to stroke your wrist. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous,” he purrs, his eyes never leaving yours.

In a bold move, he lightly kisses the back of your hand, his stubble scratching your skin.

You instinctively pull away, trying to force a polite smile, but a nervous twitch is all you manage. Your intrusive thoughts kick in, lecturing you (as usual), ‘Give the guy a chance, Y/N. Seriously, after Alex, all you think about is eye-gouging dudes with a spoon? Get a grip and move on!’

“Enjoying the party, Y/N?” he asks, snapping you out of your mental mess.

“It’s not too bad. I’m here for Beatrice,” you retort, fetching a glass of wine from the buffet. Your eyes drift to the birthday girl, now caked from head to toe and giggling hysterically. You can’t help but crack a smile.

“Sorry, gotta go. Trice’s calling me,” you blurt out and lunge toward your friend, catching a muffled, “No, she didn’t” from behind as you’re practically escaping.

As the night barrels on, your party spirit is like the Energizer Bunny on steroids. You’re all in, downing shots and cocktails like they’re on a liquid clearance sale.

Yet, the question looms in the air: Are you drinking for the sheer fun of it or just drowning sorrows in that cocktail shaker? Alex heartache mode on.

Before you know it, you’re totally sloshed, messily sprawled on a plush couch, using Tanya’s (another friend of yours) knees as your personal pillow. “Iiiiii reeeeally like your boooody, bodyyy, yeah. I reaaaaally wanna get naughtyyyyy I think you’re such a hottieeeee,” you croak out each word of the pop track with a slur, laughing uncontrollably. Your eyes are shut, lost in your boozy world.

As you ramble on, Tony, who’s been lurking around, seizes the moment and leaps out from behind the couch. He casually nudges Tanya’s arm, yelling, “You heard that, Tansy?” with theatrical flair. “She thinks I’m a hottie!” His grin spreads wider than a rubber band as he arrogantly points at himself, acting like he’s the main character of your drunken karaoke.

Tanya clicks her tongue in mild annoyance and cuts in with a hiss, “Tony! Behave, man!” She softly kisses the top of your head in a futile attempt to soothe your booze-induced storm.

“I offered to clean up her dress…” Tony goes on, hovering over the couch. “But, not gonna lie, I’d rather have it crunched up on my bedroom floor as she moans my name,” he murmurs, emphatically banging his fist on the couch before doubling up with laughter.

“Oh, hush it, Tony,” Tanya roars and waves him away, turning back to you and your delirium, which has hit the roof. “I need to get you home, girl, and none of us is fit to drive…”

Tony, not one to give up easily, chimes in once more. “I volunteer! I’d give her a lift all day, all night.”

“No, we’re all catching a cab,” she declares with a tone that brooks no argument. She lightly pokes your shoulder. “Y/N, my love?”

Your tipsy babbling starts to fade into a murmur that seems to be lulling you to sleep. “Y/N,” Tanya repeats. “What’s your postcode, sweetie?”

Your alcohol-soaked brain struggles to register this simple question. “P-postcode? P-o-s-t-d, no. P-p,” you stutter.

“Yes, darling. Confirm your postcode for me, would you? I don’t have it saved,” Tanya says calmly, holding her phone in front of your face.

With a grunt, you manage to sit up, but the world continues to dance spinning salsa around you. With an unsteady hand, you reach for the device, and your fingers fumble as you try to type out the letters and digits.

Deep in your drunken haze, you unconsciously punch in a code that matches anything else but your address.

“To the hottieeeeee,” you shout, throwing your fist in the air before dropping yourself back onto your friend’s knees.

“Ma,am, we’re here,” the taxi driver announces to Tanya that’s sat next to him, his hoarse voice slicing through the quiet of the car.

Tanya swivels around to face the backseats, where you’re laid down, totally passed out. “Y/N,” she calls softly, giving your leg a gentle rub, but you don’t stir.

She hops off the car and speed-walks to your side. With great care, she helps you out by wrapping her hands around you. Your arm is looped around her shoulder for stability. “Biyatchhhh, I saiddd whooo I saeee… who da biyaatch? Am da biyatchh,” you hoot, swaying and leaning heavily on your friend as you pinch her cheek with a goofy smile.

“Y/N, just a sec,” Tanya huffs out as she shoves herself back in to retrieve your purse and coat from the car floor.

You both stumble your way through the labyrinthine apartment complex. “You got your house key?” she asks, catching her breath.

It takes a hot minute for the information to hit as you stare at your friend like a deer in headlights. With an unexpected burst of energy, you break free from Tanya’s hold, almost tripping a few steps away. “My Tanoushka, I'm sho happy you haar!” You cry out and lurch back toward her, showering her with enthusiastic smooches on her cheeks.

Then, in a theatrical whirl, you pop open the purse and jangle your keys in her face. “Jiggly, jiggly. Okiee, goooo, go, go!” you cheer in a wobbly dance, urging Tanya to get back into the car.

With an anxious look on her face, Tanya stands by the open car door. “Alright, phone me once you’re indoors,” she insists, her worried eyes laser-focused on you.

You shoo her away absentmindedly as you stagger toward the complex’s main door. You wrestle with the key, wriggling and twisting it into the lock, but miserably fail to get in the building. “Bad key,” you playfully scold, wagging a finger at the stubborn piece of metal before giving it a light slap.

Soon after, your fingers impulsively begin to clumsily hit the buttons on the intercom, creating a cacophony of buzzing sounds that echo through the entryway. “O-o-o-pen uuup,” your slurred shouting rings through the intercom. “Shtupidd thaang,” you whine, practically bashing the device.

Out of the chorus of tenant voices that crackle through the speaker almost simultaneously, Alex’s familiar voice stands out.

“Y/N? Y/N is that you?” Hearing the shaky and uncertain voice, Alex doesn’t waste a second. He dashes down the stairwell and swings the entrance door wide open, facing a dishevelled Mia, rocking around about to collapse.

“Y/N,” he gasps and sprints to you. “What happened? Why are you here?” His brows furrow in confusion as he observes your smudged makeup and dress that’s askew.

You look up at him with a lopsided smile, your eyes all bloodshot and half-lidded. “Alex, my hottieee. I mishhhsed you so muschh!” you exclaim, your sentences meandering as you lounge at him for a sloppy hug.

“Shit, you’re hammered,” he mutters, worry spurs him into action. With superhero speed, he scoops you up, your butt facing upwards, hands hanging loosely off his back.

Your giggles echo as Alex carries you onto his shoulder with ease, making his way to the lift that leads to his place. In a soft, reassuring whisper, he says, “Don’t worry, baby,” and plants a kiss on your thigh that’s now resting on his chest. “I’ll take care of you,” he adds, giving you a playful spank on the ass.

Once inside, Alex makes a pitstop in the kitchen for a water bottle while you dangle off his shoulder like a ragdoll, humming nonsense. He heads to the bedroom and gently lays you on the bed, making sure your landing is as comfy as a cloud.

Kneeling beside you, he begins to delicately take off your high heels, rubbing your legs along the way. “Who needs a napkin when your dress can double as a tissue, right?” he chuckles softly, tracing the dry cake marks on your outfit, unaware of the sugary fight earlier. “You’ve officially introduced ‘cake couture’ to the fashion world,” he teases, trying to bundle you in a blanket like a burrito.

You slowly lift your head from the pillow, your neck muscles tightening with the effort as you stare at him with bleary yet intent eyes. “I want shyour cakey,” you mewl, wriggling under the blanket on a mission to liberate your hands.

You tug on his hoodie, pulling him closer until he loses his balance and topples onto you. Your bodies press together, and your voice comes out in a pleading whine. “Alex?”

“Yes?” he rasps out, his dark brown eyes flicking down to your lips and then up into your eyes.

“Kiss me,” you mumble and perk up, slowly grazing your lips against his, eyes shut.

The strong scent of alcohol wafts from you, but, in that moment, Alex seems beyond minding. His heart races too erratically to care, and his breaths are too jagged and wild to bother. The room seems to shrink for both of you, and he swallows hard.

“No, Y/N,” he snaps, his voice firm and resolute as he jumps up. “I’d never let this happen... not right now... not with you being like this.” He snatches the water bottle from the bedside table, unscrewing it with a sense of urgency.

Slightly dazed, you touch your lips. “Tickles, tickles, ticklish,” you squeak, breaking into soft giggles. In a sudden and wobbly move, you shift position, popping up on your knees on the bed. “Huggies,” you whoop facing him, arms wide open for an embrace.

But, just as quickly, your mood takes a detour, and now you’re wincing, yanking at the fabric of your outfit in frustration, “This dresshh is prison, tightiee,” you grunt, hiking your dress up only to reveal your red panties.

His eyes can’t help but stare down there as he rubs the back of his neck almost compulsively, his breath hitching in his throat. At the sight of you half-naked, the dilemma of whether to give in or resist intensifies, swirling in his mind on end.

“Hold up, I don’t want you catching a cold or something. I’ve got a top you can slip into,” he says, puffing out his words while pacing toward his wardrobe to avoid looking at her.

“Heeey,” you yell with an unexpectedly stern tone that catches him off guard. But, just as swiftly, your face softens into a sweet, almost kiddish smile that instantly cools things off.

You wave Alex over, beckoning him to approach. “Come, come, comeyyy,” you coo.

You perch next to him again, still rocking that mischievous smile. “It’s a secret, tiny winnie one,” you whisper-shout, pinching your index finger and thumb near your face, closing one eye for added drama. “Just between you and me,” you poke as you emphasise ‘me.’

Alex nods as his grin stretches from ear to ear. “Okay…” he chuckles, officially joining your light-hearted moment.

“Shhhhh,” you dramatically hush, squishing your index finger against your lips like you’re sharing classified intel. “Secret-t-t-t.”

Alex snorts. His rolls his lips into his mouth as he lowers his head to hold back a laugh. “My bad, my bad. Go on,” he whispers with exaggerated enthusiasm. He’s clearly having a blast with your goofy antics.

“Don’t tell Alex… Neva eva!”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he assures you, theatrically raising his finger for a pinky promise.

You take an unusually long moment to process his gesture and what it represents. A sober person would never… Eventually, you sloth-slowly glance back at him, nonchalantly deciding to give up on the symbolism behind the lifted pinky finger. “He’s the kindestsht… and p-p-prettiest boy I’ve eeeeever met,” you exclaim. Your fingers—guided by intoxicated conviction—clumsily roam over his face, stretching his nostril and trailing down to his bottom lip.

Your drunken self radiates an innocent sincerity that makes Alex’s heart throb like a hammer. Flattered and charmed by your confession, he gazes at you bashfully.

His warm smile broadens as he keeps on staring and admiring you.

“He’s shhhuper,” you squeal, forming a heart shape with your fingers, peeking at him through it. “Do youse… hic… I should gimme… no… not me… him, give HIM head to say thank yew for treatin' spoooooon good?”

Alex can’t help but crack up, though his cheeks turn rosy—a testament to his shy nature. He cups his chin and narrows his eyes mischievously, like he’s in deep thought. “Hmm, if we’re talking about Alex, your ex...I think you should give him head, BUT,” he exclaims, throwing a finger into the air.

You gasp, playfully covering your mouth like you’ve heard the most shocking news. Your eyes bulge with feigned surprise. “Beyond all,” he argues, “I think you should totally get back together. He thinks you broke up for something very silly, and he’s dying to be with you.”

You abruptly jerk away from him, gagging as if you’re about to throw up. You feel the blood draining from your face as a wave of distress washes over you.

Alex’s eyes widen with concern as he instinctively rises from the bed, “Off we go to the bathroom,” he insists, rushing to follow you.

Your nausea takes a sudden turn, and you can’t hold back any longer. Barely making it to the toilet in time, you let it all out. Your body heaves with each retch, and you feel miserable.

Alex, the unsung hero, drops to his knees and chucks the water bottle on the floor. He gently pulls your hair back, creating a makeshift puke-proof barrier. All the while, he rubs your back to make the whole ordeal less horrible.

Then, he’s quick on his feet, grabbing some toilet paper for the post-barf clean-up. As you dab your lips, he hands you the bottle to rinse. “I’m disgustiiing, don’t look,” you grumble, shooing him away as you spit water in the toilet before flushing.

“You’re still a wonder to my eyes,” he whispers, running a hand through your loose hair. “And the timing—you puke just as I suggest we get back together, Y/N” he mocks, adding a sprinkle of humour to the less-than-glamorous moment.

You groan and let your head flop onto the toilet seat. “Ahhh, my moussth feels weird… bruushh,” you mumble, rubbing your lips.

Alex lifts you up, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Not brushing yet, baby. We’re swishing with some hydrogen peroxide and water to protect the enamel,” he instructs you, preparing the said concoction in a small measuring cup next to you. “Here you go, wash off.”

“Shhh, you’re a niiieeerd,” you whine after spitting the liquid, feeling it sting your tongue. Giggling, you yank at Alex’s hoodie and playfully sway him back and forth, your minty breath fanning his face.

Then, you suddenly stop and fix him right in the eye. “Aleeex?” you whimper, lips pouting.

“Yes, Y/N,” he asks calmly, sweeping a few strands of hair off your face as a half smirk curls up his lips. He enjoys the banter that weaves through your drunken fog.

“Fuck me,” you plead, fiddling with the buckle of his belt.

Alex’s pulse quickened for a second, held in an irregular rhythm. All the while, your fingertips caress his lower stomach, trying to slip through his trousers and onto his boxers.

You let go when he clears his throat loudly, a deliberate attempt to regain composure. Breathing heavily, he manages a tight-lipped as he strokes your head, tenderly placing it on his shoulder.

“Ohhh, I knoooow,” your exclaim and sit up, your index finger playfully pressing against your mouth. “I willshh brush me an’ you fuck me.”

Forty minutes later, you’re done with her hardcore toothbrushing session, complete with a few rounds of gargling mouthwash. Alex hands you a towel with a warm smile. You’re still wobbly but muster a grateful grin.

“Thaaank, yew rock,” you slur, clumsily patting your face dry.

Alex chuckles, “Better?”

You hum, nodding, but your bleary eyes suddenly light up mischievously. Out of impulse, you slide into the tub, turning the water knob. You start splashing around, water welling up everywhere as you laugh uncontrollably. Alex, caught in the aquatic crossfire, shields himself with his hands.

“What’s the goal? Turning this into a water park?” he jokes, still trying to dodge the watery onslaught. But you’re having none of it. You grip his arm and drag him into the splash party.

Soon, you’re both a wet, tangled mess, laughing like loons, lost in the bliss of the moment. As water skims through the contours of your bodies, there’s a switch in the atmosphere. Amidst the fun chaos, your eyes meet inches away from each other, and the laughter mellows into a shared silence.

Before you realise it, your lips crash in a spontaneous kiss. You spread your legs, letting him wade through and tower over you. Soft moans escape him, and the vibrations against your mouth send delightful shivers down your backbone. You know that’s not just a collision of flesh; it transcends into a harmonious blend of passion and connection.

“I want you, Alex,” you sigh with newfound clarity, miraculously not stumbling over your words in an intoxicating joy for the first time tonight. You push the back of his head to deepen the kiss, your tongues now twisting and twirling in a sensual waltz.

He hungrily gropes handfuls of your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses across the crook of your neck.

“Y/N.. no... stop it,” he protests when your hand ventures down his trousers, rubbing along his growing bulge. Your quivering breaths mingle as he breaks the kiss. Skillfully, he turns off the water as he steps out of the tub. “It’s the alcohol talking now, not you.”

You frown, clutching on the edges of the tub for balance. “The alcohol has shut up; I speak now,” you groan as you stand on your feet. Your drenched dress clings to your body, outlining your figure. Feeling the weight of the soaked fabric, you decide to free yourself from it.

You strip down to your panties, and your soft, pink nipples rise like rosebuds in bloom, betraying a quiet anticipation. Alex sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your every move all mesmerised, eyes widening, lips parted.

“Ever seen someone redefine the art of walking a tightrope?” you chirp, water dripping down your half-naked body. Sinking to your knees, you get on all fours and slowly begin to crawl to him.

You sway your hips in a sensuous, almost hypnotic rhythm, eyes fixed on Alex. All the while, you trace a perfectly straight line to him, proving your recovered sobriety.

Arriving at his pelvic level, you gracefully sit back on your heels with a coy smile, maintaining eye contact. “See?” you whisper, tilting your head as your eyes travel down at his erection. You don’t dare to touch; you just marvel at his full length (realistically speaking).

Staring down at you with a knowing, crooked smirk, he runs his fingers through your damp hair, tenderly petting your head.

“Someone’s suffering here. Let’s free this big boy, shall we?” you purr, brushing your fingers along his hard rock crotch, feeling it twitch upon touch.

He quickly nods in despair as if he’s unable to utter a single syllable. You slowly roll down his trousers and boxers. He gasps as you finally take hold of his large shaft.

You push his tip in your mouth, flattening your tongue, and swipe down the underside ridge of his stiff dick, humming in delight. He groans louder than you expected as you slowly work his cock in and out, grazing your fingers over the ridges of his abs under his t-shirt.

You pull him back out of your mouth just to slide all the way back down. He’s practically growling at this point, clasping onto the corners of the sink—his vein-y arms make your sex twice as moist.

You regain your slow, teasing pace just to gauge his reaction. Letting out a whine like he can’t take it anymore, he grips your hair tighter, pushing you all the way down his dick. His head is now building on pressure as it strikes the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes. His hair grip loosens as his breaths start escaping him in choked, punchy gasps.

You’re sucking him whole, from his taint down to his balls, dripping your saliva all over him the harder you draw him into your mouth. Your swollen pussy is tingling for him as you feel him hardening in your mouth, forcing loud moans out of you.

Knowing that your next move will finish him, you slow down again and grab him by the waist, gazing up at him. That’s when you begin to take him in faster and rougher, feeling his hips thrust harder each time.

And… proven! With the change in speed, he lets out a series of choppy moans only to shoot his hot cum in your mouth right after. He stares down at you breathless, mouth agape, as you gulp down his sweet taste with rapid, eager swallows, savouring his taste with a giggle.

“My girl,” he rasps out as he picks you up from the floor effortlessly yet almost in a trance, his dick still throbbing in your hands. He peels his t-shirt off, turning you around so you both face the large bathroom mirror.

Positioned behind you, he holds you close and smacks your ass hard, making you squeal with surprise. The squeal soon turns into a moan as the pain fades into pleasure.

You smile slyly as you observe his muscular hands travelling from your hips all the way up to your waistline and tits. You gasp softly when you feel his erection on your back as his mouth nibbles the flushed skin of your neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

“I want you to cum inside me, Alex” you blurt out and take hold of his shaft from behind, slowly sliding the head though your tight moist slit in short thrusts.

“Oh, yeah,” he grunts, biting his bottom lip as he feels your wet lips wrap around him. He instantly fills his hands with your hard nipples, squeezing and rubbing them as he looks at your reflection. “Anything for you, Y/N,” he mutters against your ear in a low, husky voice before knocking himself deep inside you, balls deep, making you scream. His hands roughly grip your thighs to keep you steady and close to him.

Small sobs leave you as you instinctively grab the ends of the sink, bending over to cope with taking him deeper. “Just there,” you yelp, panting, as he starts pounding harder, your hair twisted around his hand. With each thrust, his sack slaps against your clit, making you lose your shit.

Every time your pussy gets to the base of his cock, you pump into him with an intense tempo and move your hips around, making his cock swirl inside your body.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you cry out with shallow, jagged puffs, rising and resting your head on his shoulder.

He pinches your nipples between his knuckles with one hand while with the other, he starts massaging your clit with circular motions.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper in pure ecstasy as a hot flush courses through you, your cunt aching and begging to release.

“You take in me so well, baby. Give it to me,” he groans, his voice a throaty sensual rasp that makes you shudder.

“Yeees,” you scream, writhing and grinding against him until you feel warm liquid dripping down your legs.

He keeps riding your orgasm out with you, fucking the liquids in back until he hits his own high. And then it happens—his cum gushing inside you, stuffing you up.

Out of breath, Alex pulls himself out of you, watching his cum leak out. He lazily grins at you, his curls sticking to his head, and you tuck them all back with trembling hands, giggling.

“This pussy and her owner over here will be the death of me,” he chuckles, gasping for air as he pulls you in for a sloppy, heated kiss.

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 6 months ago

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CYOA

You know what screw it, I wanted to finish chapter 59 today but I feel horrible and it's just not going to happen so for now you can have this completed scene under the cut with my great affection love love peace peace feel free to react as it'll make me happy etc. etc.

Private WhatsApp Chat Resumed: Friday 18th March, 2022, 07:57 Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

James Potter: i think it's pretty amazing that you and beatrice know the exact date that you first met when you were two

Lily Evans: Lollllll Hello to you too

James Potter: although idk how sirius would react if we knew and i suggested celebrating that hello, also beautiful hello beautiful is what i meant to say

Lily Evans: Suave of you.

James Potter: i'm only just having my first coffee of the day, alright? give me five minutes and i'll be on my game

Lily Evans: I suppose I can allow you five minutes. We didn't always know, but my mum's been journaling every day for most of her life, so a few years back we did a little detective work and it turns out she'd written about my first day at Little Tots. We've done something for our anniversary every year since, but she's blown my gift out of the water this time around.

James Potter: why, what was your gift?

Lily Evans: I bought her a ladyship. She's Lady Beatrice Booth now. Officially. Incredibly it only costs £30 and you get a tiny plot of land in Cumbria with it. I gave the pack to her housemate to leave out today so she'll get a huge kick out of it when she gets home later.

James Potter: how ironic is it that you got her a ladyship and i was looking into getting her canonised earlier

Lily Evans: Lol why?

James Potter: because i really really really liked that video, evans

Lily Evans: I see. I see. I see. Not embarrassed about you having seen that AT ALL. Although I suppose I don't have a right to be embarrassed when I've seen all of your childhood photos, do I? It was probably about time that you saw some of mine.

James Potter: what would you have to be embarrassed about? you were an adorable child i loved watching you grow up on an instagram reel with, inexplicably, flo rida's musical accompaniment

Lily Evans: Lollllllllll I know that probably seems like a weird choice, but it was our go-to dance song when we were eighteen. And on that note, I was a very awkward teenager, as you've now seen.

James Potter: almost everyone on earth was an awkward teenager and the ones who weren't awkward peaked in their teens, so think of how they've suffered since then although i guess sirius is the exception anyway you say you were awkward, but fifteen year old me would have been DESPERATE for fifteen year old you's attention

Lily Evans: Oh, you say that now.

James Potter: no i would have been and i wouldn't have gotten it because as we've previously established i was a prick when i was fifteen so if i'd gone to school with you i still would have been a prick, but a prick who wanted your attention and did all manner of stupid things to get it i would have driven you mad

Lily Evans: Twenty-seven year old you wants my attention and I've not been driven mad over it once, to be fair.

James Potter: twenty-seven year old me has much improved with age and is more deserving of it you however have been a delight your whole life which i now have visual proof of hence i'll be calling your best mate saint lady beatrice from now on

Lily Evans: I wasn't a delight my whole life, I promise you. As a child I was a precocious little shit who thought she knew everything and couldn't be told otherwise. That's why I got into so many scrapes, doing stupid, dangerous things because I couldn't just listen to my mother when she told me "no, Lily, that's dangerous." I was like a working class Peppa Pig, honestly, no wonder my sister couldn't hack being around me half the time. So you're not the only one who has much improved with age. And fifteen year old me would have had a massive crush on fifteen year old you, BELIEVE me.

James Potter: oh really?

Lily Evans: Would I have let you know about it? Absolutely not. But it still would have been there.

James Potter: you mean like the crush you've had on me this whole time?

Lily Evans: I already have to get you back for some nonsense you pulled yesterday, Potter, so I'd advise you not to pile on and add this to the list.

James Potter: lollllllll

Lily Evans: I'm serious!

James Potter: oh i'm sure you are to which i say go on then do it

Lily Evans: I will do it.

James Potter: you go right ahead i can handle it

Lily Evans: You're being very cocky right now and while I can't pretend I don't like it, it'll also prove to be your downfall later.

James Potter: we'll see, we'll see

Lily Evans: We will see.

James Potter: whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart

Lily Evans: I think the fifteen year old you has taken over the controls in your head, mate.

James Potter: he probably has, yeah but what can i say he's really chuffed about your crush on me

Lily Evans: You mean the crush you've decided I have that I haven't confirmed?

James Potter: right, yeah, of course, clearly i'm the one in the wrong here still sleeping in my bed, are you?

Lily Evans: I have to go do a work thing now.

James Potter: oh, sure, that old excuse

#sarah's choose your own adventure fanfic #sneak peak #is this the closest thing to a direct confession I've written yet?#answer: yes

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alllgator-blood · 3 months ago

Note

(Technically 3 question about Shamura)

Do you think they would speak similar to the Gman from Half-Life? As in similarly awkward pauses/stutters/inhales/drawn-out syllables on account of their brain injury?

Also, do you think them having a sudden episode of visions could/would be similar to the whole "leave me alone" meme from Akira (like imagine them just chilling around having tea and then suddenly random images of Narinder going on a bloody rampage while flipping off the camera start flooding his mind).

Please tell me I'm not the only one who's always pronounced it "sham-yura".

ALSO CAN I JUST SAY YOUR VERSION OF KALLAMAR IS ONE OF THE MOST PERFECT KALLAMARS I HAVE EVER SEEN, LIKE LITERALLY YOURS AND AVELOKA-DRAWS VERSIONS ARE MY CURRENT TWO ABSOLUTE FAVORITE KALLAMARS AND I DESPERATELY NEED ONE OF THEM TO SWEEP ME OFF THE GROUND BRIDAL STYLE SO I CAN KISS HIM ON THAT TOOTHY FUCKING SPLIT MOUTH OF HIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(oh and your Narinder somewhat reminds me of those awful prank youtubers like Jack Doherty, like literally the most perfectly awful combination of spoiled+narcissist+sociopath, the only thing he's missing is that dumbass broccoli haircut)

I haven't played half life in forever but now that I'm rewatching the gman cutscenes, you're definitely onto something....if I could come up with what I think shamura could sound like, it'd have to be your suggestion blended with beatrice horseman (from bojack!) after she develops alzheimer's. I think gman's incredibly uncanny way of speaking mixed with beatrice's distantly pleasant cadence masking unending terror would be PERFECT for shamura.

NO WAY YOU MENTIONED AKIRA AND SHAMURA IN THE SAME SENTENCE CAUSE I LITERALLY DID A SHITPOST ANIMATIC A FEW WEEKS AGO THAT USES THE "DING!" SOUND EFFECT FROM THAT SCENE. I'LL HAVE TO POST IT SOMETIME. For my specific shamura, their visions and prophecies appeared only in dreams before The Incident, so their next angst comic is gonna be about the visions coming back while they're still awake. THAT'S when it becomes more like the LEAVE ME ALONE!! scene

I've heard youtubers say it like sham-yura but I'm dead set on shuh-murr-uh personally, I think they say it like that in kallamar's metal song!

OH GOD LMAO I FEEL LIKE JACK DOHERTY IS MORE OF AN EVIL PRESENCE THAN NARINDER CAUSE AT LEAST NARINDER IS FUNNY. My sister told me I should draw him with the fuckass broccoli cut, but I think narinder has been through a lot at this point, he doesn't need the prank youtuber haircut on top of that :')

ALSO, I'm very glad you like my kallamar that much and as such, I present you with this drawing! Idk how to draw a bridal carry but kallamar is just a bunch of wiggly tentacles so this was probably the perfect character to draw with this pose

#cult of the lamb #kallamar

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this-blog-needs-a-new-name · 2 years ago

Text

This is ridiculously awesome! 😍

#warrior nun #warrior nun season 2 #one half of…#avatrice #sister beatrice #lol #artist on twitter

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thecousinsdangereux · 6 months ago

Note

i just recently discovered your soulmate au and i loves it so much. so incredibly intriguing and well written and damn is it hot 🔥 thanks so much for sharing with us. in your mind, does it have a happy ending for them?

also wanted to ask if you'll be checking in to see the big warrior nun announcement coming tomorrow?

Ahhhh thank you! This ask is kind of tragic now given how everything with Warrior Nun ended up going, but I thought I'd use it as a way to share my ideas for the rest of a beggar in the morning, if anyone is interested in learning how it was going to go. Long story short, it was going to have a happy ending. :)

Here's a full outline for what I had in mind for the second half of the fic. Under the cut because it's very detailed in the parts that I'd started writing. Also in case anyone cares about spoilers? At the moment, I don't plan on finishing this fic, but I do plan on returning to writing in general, so guess there's a non-zero chance that I could come back to it. Stranger things have happened.

Beatrice keeps looking for the recipient of the Letter she's been trying to deliver and starts taking trips out into the countryside. She takes Ava's advice and takes to enjoying the journey - stopping into small cafes for lunch rather than eating in the car, taking the long way when it means she can enjoy a new view, etc.

During one of these side quests, she's told about a man who lives way off in the middle of nowhere who has the last name of Reis (the last name of the Letter recipient: Lara Reis), and she tracks him down. He had a sister who had a child with someone who was not her Match. I wanted to go more into what this looks like (and how the church is still anti-abortion in this world, because they think this could potentially ruin a future match, cue eye-roll) but in this case, the woman was basically run out of town. The man directs Beatrice to an orphanage where the child was raised.

This trail eventually goes cold because the orphanage has no records of the girl. They only know she left when she became of age.

The end of chapter six is basically Beatrice being frustrated and taking some 'advice' from Lilith to find someone to fuck hfkjshlk so she goes to the bar and ohhh nooo Ava is working that night, filling in for someone. Ava gets jealous, Bea does some shots, and it's basically a rehash of the lemon drop scene from the show, but hornier. Eventually, they make out, and decide to be friends with benefits.

Chapter 7 was honestly just going to be porn. lol. It's actually some of the first stuff I wrote for this fic - just a page of porn. Beggar came out of a Secret Santa fic exchange, and my friend Alex asked for lots of sex and a soulmate au. So... Chapter 7 was the payoff (part 2). Here's a few disjointed scenes, in case anyone is interested in reading some unedited very E-rated stuff.

A few months go by and all the nuns visit Beatrice for her bday and they're like huh so what's going on here and Beatrice has to pretend that it's not that serious with Ava (lol). I also wanted to do a conversation between Shannon and Beatrice where Shannon talks about the whole Mary thing and loving someone against the will of god (or at the very least, in the very gray areas).

The end of chapter seven is Ava finally talking about her past, which is that Ava doesn't remember hers. She woke up in a hospital without her memories and then spent the next decade traveling around trying to find something that felt like home.

In chapter 8, a lot of time passes, and the fucking continues. Beatrice is kind of losing it, poor girl.

I hadn't exactly decided what was going to happen next, but Ava was going to overstep in some way (or in some perceived way) and Beatrice was going to panic. Either Beatrice was going to have a brief thought about being in love, they were going to have reallyyyy soft sex, or something like that, but either way, Beatrice was going to have to admit she has deeper feelings for Ava than what's allowed allowed, so she goes back to Spain and ignores Ava's texts/calls/etc.

Eventually she realizes she owes Ava closure. She comes back and kind of explains why she's reacted the way she has. She gets more into why she joined the church and it's not for God or the Church itself, but because she does genuinely believe that love itself is holy. She admits she's falling in love with Ava, but she can't break her vows. She believes giving into her feelings would be putting herself above the whole history of love... the sanctity of the entire universe... and to be that selfish would be monstrous.

There's a callback to their early game of three questions, and how Ava still owes Beatrice one answer. Beatrice nearly asks if Ava loves her, but pulls back because she's scared of the answer. They basically break up, but Ava tells Bea to let her know when she's ready to ask her last question.

Beatrice takes it HARD. She buries herself in her work and starts visiting hospitals in various towns. She finds a Spanish doctor and he recognizes the number (or rather, the system behind the number) that is on Letter Beatrice is still trying to deliver. He tells Beatrice she's not looking for a hospital in Portugal, but rather in Spain - one in a small town in Andalusia. He mentions a patient who was in a coma, who woke up without her memories.

At this point, Beatrice obviously knows and she flies to Spain in daze. She visits the hospital, gives them the number, and asks for the name of the patient. When they'd brought the girl in, no one knew where she came from, she didn't have an ID, memories, etc. Nothing except for an old receipt from a restaurant in Portugal. ("Beatrice braces herself for what she already knows, but doesn't want to face.") The nurse at the hospital tells her they used a generic Portuguese name for the girl and it stuck: Ava Silva.

Beatrice visits Cat's Cradle because what else is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to deliver this Letter to Ava, who she's obviously in love with. She talks with Mary and we get the other side of the whole Mary/Shannon thing, and Mary is kind of like, okay, the Letters matter but they don't Matter. Beatrice asks Mary what she would do if she got a Letter (since Mary isn't a nun and could get one, but Shannon never could) and Mary basically says she would throw it away without opening it because she wouldn't want to give Shannon a reason to go self-sacrificial.

Of course, Beatrice doesn't really think this is her call to make. She's going to deliver Ava's Letter. There's this whole scene of her very dramatically and angstily getting ready for the delivery in the Official White Habit, then walking through the town she's come to associate so completely with Ava. And chapter 9 ends.

When Beatrice walks through the doors of the bar, Ava looks up, but doesn't seem surprised, even says 'oh, finally', which is pretty much the last thing that Beatrice expected, but then again, maybe it should have been the first, because Ava is always surprising her, and shouldn't she expect it by now? She asks Ava if she'd known that she was the person Beatrice had been trying to deliver to all along and Ava looks confused at this, like she hadn't considered that at all. "It's not that. I just knew my Letter would be coming because I'd already met you."

Beatrice is like, no no no. That's not how this works. It can't be me. I've been carrying this Letter with me this whole time - before I met you - and the Letters are only sent to a person when they've met their soulmate. And obviously, Beatrice is a nun and can't have a soulmate, etc. etc.

And then Ava says something like this: “Maybe every once in a while, God -- or the universe or whatever it is -- knows that it’ll be really hard to make two people meet organically, so it fudges the rules a little bit. Makes one girl a nun, makes another one hard to find, and sets up the dominos really early on."

And when Beatrice says she's being ridiculous/it's impossible, she says, "I know what’s in that letter. It’s you. I don’t need to open it to know it's you." and "Maybe it’s like some people say and god arranged it all. Fine. Then god chose me for you. Simple. He made me in this exact way, down to my hands and toes and whatever, so that I was perfect for his favorite creation in all of the universe. Because that has to be you."

And: "Or maybe it’s like what those other people say. You know - the past lives reincarnation stuff. Fine, then in our first lives we fell in love and then I found you in the second and third and the five hundredth. I found you and I picked you and I wanted you every time. Or okay, fine, maybe it’s what the the pseudo science people say. Even if those guys are right, I still know. It’s you because at the very start of the universe - at the very beginning of everything - we were the first two bits of something. The first two tiny little sparks. One of those was you and one of them was me. And even when we split off into a million trillion billion infinite pieces, the core of one was you. And the other one was me."

And: "In every religion or in any theory, the world exists so that I can find you again, and the world will do whatever it takes - bend the rules in whatever way - to make sure that at the exact right time, we would meet. And maybe it wasn’t perfect - maybe it was stupid hard for us to get to this point - maybe there was an easier way to make it happen - but I don’t care. Because it worked and I found you and I fell in love with you and I would do anything for that. So yeah. This Letter is telling me that I’m for you. That’s easy. It’s not faith. It’s just a fact.

And: "Besides, whatever’s on that paper? It’s going to be you. If it’s a picture of a butterfly, then it’s going to be you because of that time we went to the dam and one landed on your hand and you said “isn’t the world beautiful?” and that’s when I knew I loved you for the very first time. If it’s the notes to the first bar in At Last, then it’s you, because we used to play it all the time in the bar and I always thought it was fucking stupid to think you'd know like that right away, before everything, but it was the song that played in my head anyways when you walked in the bar that first night. There she is, I sort of thought, a dream that I can speak to."

"It could be any single word or phrase or letter and it would be you, because I love you and I love you so much I see you in every part of this entire world. I love you and I want to keep you with me always, and so you’re always there in my thoughts, slipping over and into everything else and I love it. It makes me love everything I see a little bit more, because it reminds me of you. It makes the world more beautiful."

"So, no offense, but I don't really give a fuck about the Letter. I already know it's going to be you. But I think you need to see it. So you know you’re not as selfish as you think you are."

And Beatrice admits that she wants to be with Ava anyways. Even if it makes her selfish. (Even if it makes her heretical.) Love is holy and what she feels for Ava is holy too, even if it's a sort of holy no one else will ever understand.

I went back and forth about whether they actually SHOULD open the Letter. lol. But I think I eventually settled on that they should, and that when Ava does open it, it's a blank page with like, 7 little dots and Beatrice is like??????????????? But Ava recognizes it instantly and it's the freckles on Beatrice's cheeks, the ones she's always tracing, and she does that again, following the ink on the paper.

Beatrice had been ready to give up her religion for Ava, so getting to keep it, maybe, suddenly is a LOT. She can't quite believe something divine would do something like this for her. But maybe she can believe that something divine would do something like this for Ava.

Later, I wanted Beatrice to have a conversation with Mother Superion. I thought it would be interesting to get into the philosophical bits of it. To debate if Ava could actually be right in her ideas about how this could be, and still fit into what they know about god/Letters/religion. I liked the idea of the conversation ending with neither of them really knowing, and Mother S being like, look girl, you'll never know for sure, but that sounds like faith to me. And Beatrice says no, no this is different, capital F Faith is for the divine. This is just trusting that Ava isn't lying about the freckles thing, or won't get tired of me, or won't find someone else. Etc etc etc. because it's panicking time for Beatrice, suddenly. And Mother Superion just raps her knuckles sort of in the most gentle way she can manage and says "That's love, Beatrice." in the way way someone might say "That's pussy, babe."

Beatrice does leave the church (though she eventually goes back to 'consulting' kind of like Mary). And when she does actually physically leave as well, Ava is waiting outside on a bench. Beatrice asks why she didn't just come inside, and she says something about being a little afraid of churches these days. She did steal god's favorite, after all.

And then they walk off into the sunset, with Beatrice being like wait a second, I thought you said this was all God's plan. And Ava shrugs and says that she would never willingly give Beatrice up, so god might come to her senses and change her mind.

I was going to end it there, but I did consider doing an epilogue as well. Early on in planning I had this idea where, years later, all the nuns regularly come over to the Silvas (because Ava does keep her 'second' name, though she does start to learn more about the Reis family, and meets her Uncle - the dude Beatrice learned about the orphanage from). And on one of these occasions, the nuns are all in white, and they're delivering Beatrice's Letter, which is addressed to Beatrice Silva. In the end, I decided against this, because I liked leaving it more open-ended, but nothing had been set in stone at this point, of course.

So yeah, that was going to be a beggar in the morning. lol. I plotted most of it out before I even started writing, because it wasn't the sort of story you could make up as you went and still tell it well. And I did want to tell the story well! There's a part of me that's sad that I wasn't able to, but I do think it was worth writing what I did. I really loved seeing people realize that Lara was Ava, even as early as chapter 5! And I also loved people coming up with theories about how Avatrice would be endgame. Some of them were honestly really good and maybe better than mine fhdskjhfd I had one person be like PLEASE let Ava's Letter be for someone else so they can metaphorically spit in god's face and honestly that was valid.

I don't know if anyone is going to bother to read this very, very long reply to an ask that doesn't actually ask for any of this, but it honestly just feels nice to put all these ideas together and 'complete' the story. Even if I've done it in the most half-assed way possible I am so sorry fhadskjlfhldsj

#sorry to use your ask from forever ago to go off about the planned ending of this fic #I had to combine notes from my phone google doc and physical journal to find all these details again so it was like I was rediscovering #my own fic #me at me as I was reading back: wow this shit is cheesy you are a huge loser #warrior nun #writing #a beggar in the morning

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apomaro-mellow · 7 months ago

Text

Whatever Stevie Wants

A sequel to Every Baby Needs a Daddy that is really just a Corroded King love-fest. Mostly fluff! Will there be drama? Still contemplating that. Stay tuned!

Read on AO3

Steve thought about the night he met Eddie. Cold, hungry, feeling pathetic. But he happened to spark up a conversation with an alpha in a bar that he vaguely recognized. And now…well, now he wasn’t cold. He was sitting on a very nice rocking chair with the AC at the perfect temperature. He wasn’t hungry. The kitchen was always fully stocked with whatever he might want. It had been since before he moved in but ever since he started getting pregnancy cravings, his pack made certain just about every food under the sun was available.

And it was hard to feel pathetic and unlovable when there were four men practically worshipping him everyday. The love in their home increased tenfold when the pups arrived. Violet Adams, born of him and Jeff Adams, and Vanessa Munson born of him and Eddie.

Violet was napping in a crib nearby while Steve held Vanessa to his chest. Eddie was sitting across from them, strumming his acoustic idly, making naptime feel all the more warm and fuzzy. Steve adjusted his hold on Vanessa, helping her to latch on properly. Eddie was strumming softly just across from them but he could always tell when he got too distracted. His hands would get slack on the strings. Steve didn’t even need to look up to know his jaw was in the same position too. But he did anyway. He liked his alpha looking longing.

“When’s it my turn?”, Eddie teased.

Steve shook his head but tried to keep his body still from disturbing his pup too much. “I think you’ve gotten plenty of turns.”

The moment Steve’s chest started to fill out from pregnancy, it was like Eddie had gotten a new toy. He wasn’t the only one in the pack that went crazy for his tits but he was the biggest culprit.

Vanessa drank her fill and her eyelids got heavy now that her stomach was full. Steve put her in the crib on the opposite end of her sister. Once she was settled, he readjusted his shirt, covering himself up. Eddie swallowed in a way that wasn’t subtle at all.

----------------------

Their days were filled with domestic bliss most of the time. Steve had experienced a bit of the limelight here and there but since they realized the twins were on the way he went out less. Now though, he was feeling the edges of cabin fever. He and his mates were able to go out to eat more often since Eddie’s Uncle Wayne and Jeff’s mother Beatrice moved in to help with the twins.

There was something so special to Steve about having three generations living under one roof. He almost wished his parents could be a part of it. He’d even sent them photographs of his daughters through the mail. They hadn’t said a word since he and Eddie were officially married and his name was changed from Harrington to Munson and they dropped the case against him.

It seemed like they wanted no part in his life and Steve wasn’t going to force them into it.

---------------------------

It was close to evening when Steve found Eddie in the basement, writing while lounging in the home studio the band sometimes worked on. He crawled right on top of him and scented his alpha, purring as he got comfortable.

“Daddy.”

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy, ‘m hungry.”

Eddie set the notebook and pencil down and rubbed Steve’s back. “And what does my baby wanna eat?”

About half an hour later, Steve was being hand-fed lobster by Eddie in a restaurant so exclusive, it felt like you needed a password to get in. Steve had started out using his own fork and knife to eat, but he let out one moan of pleasure at the food and Eddie started serving him personally.

“Tastes good, baby?”

“Mmm, so good.”

The wait staff was the kind that didn’t constantly come around the table and the lighting was on the low, romantic side. Just the right kind of atmosphere that Steve didn’t feel self conscious about the sounds he let out. There had been more than once when Steve felt like he was in danger of losing Eddie and the other’s interest. When he started getting heavy with pregnancy, only to have them adore his growing body.

When he finally gave birth and saw his parts of him now sagged and stretched, only for their gazes to still be in awe. It got to the point that Eddie wanted to use some of the pics from his maternity shoot on their next album.

And he only got more brazen with his shows of affection as time went on. One hand kept feeding Steve, sometimes licking away crumbs left on the corners of his mouth. The other hand was, innocently (at least at the moment), rubbing circles on his stomach.

“You really spoil me”, Steve said after swallowing his last bite.

“Sweet thing, not even this feels like enough”, Eddie confessed. His hand dipped further under the table, further down Steve’s body.

Steve spread his legs, even putting one in Eddie’s lap so that his mate could touch him more. Taking the advantage, Eddie expertly opened up his pants and it took very little coaxing to have Steve grinding against his hand. Eddie’s attention was held by his love’s enraptured expression, but then it moved down to the two dark dots forming on his shirt.

“Fuck”, Eddie whispered, mouth watering as he imagined taking a tit in his mouth right now, draining Steve through the fabric.

Instead, he pulled his hand out of his pants, heart breaking on the whine it elicited but staying strong. Eddie shushed him gently and kissed his cheek.

“Let’s get you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

That ended up being the backseat of a car, a familiar in-between when either of them got too riled up for being in public and yet couldn’t wait until they got home. Steve straddled his alpha’s lap and started to unbutton his shirt. His nipples glistened in the moonlight and Eddie reached out reverently.

He buried his face in Steve’s chest, scenting his sweetness there and then gave one of his nipples a lick, lapping at it and taking his time. Like an aperitif before the main dish. Only when Steve grabbed the back of his head, pushing him in more did he wrap his lips around and start to suck in earnest.

Steve started to grind again, just like in the restaurant. But instead of getting off on Eddie’s fingers, he used his husband’s thigh, pressing down, feeling slick gush out and make him slide even more. Eddie was getting off on him, on the sweet milk that he made for their pups.

“Daddy, Daddy please”, Steve begged, though he wasn’t sure what for.

One of Eddie’s hands snaked up his back, doing his part to keep himself latched onto the beautiful breast in his mouth. The other went to his ass, spurring him on to keep going as he got closer to his climax. Eddie groaned against his skin, it was impossible to get enough. Not wanting to ignore the other one, he pulled off, licking his way to the other side of Steve’s chest and took that nipple into his mouth.

Steve’s pleas turned to wordless moaning as he ground down and suddenly he was seeing stars. His whole body shook as the waves of pleasure rocked through him and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was.

Eddie licked his lips. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were in heat, sweetheart.”

The laugh Steve let out was shaky and breathless as he ran a hand through his hair. Every time felt like he was in heat. Every time one of them put their hands on him, Steve felt like a slave to desire. Was this what it was like to be in love? It must be.

“You take such good care of me, Daddy”, Steve said, arms coming around his shoulders.

“Course I do. You’re mine, Stevie. And I’m never letting you go.”

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #corroded king

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shunin-gumis · 8 months ago

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Netaro Initial SSR Story

Netaro's Soulmate Search, Group Date Edition (Part 1)

Any notes with a * are at the bottom!

Also Netaro has a unique style of speaking, I hope it was conveyed in the TL 😭😭

Netaro: Beatrice, oh Beatrice~ Where art thou~?

Momiji: Woah!? Netaro-kun!?

Netaro: Your good work is appreciated, Doudou~* Does writing up that report take up all your attention?

Netaro: Knock after knock and without a response, I simply couldn't wait any longer. So I had no choice but to break in.

Momiji: I-is that so... Sorry about that.

Momiji: Um, what was it about.... Beatrice?

Momiji: If I recall correctly... you're searching for your other half.... Your "Fate", right?

Netaro: Bingo~ You deserve a gold star!

Netaro: For the sake of this new dream I have discovered on this planet, I have been pointing my antenna this way and that on the daily, but alas-

Netaro: It is not enough! Simply put, I am severely lacking in new encounters! I must acquaint myself with a much larger scope of humans~!!

Momiji: Meeting more people huh... How about something like a group date?

Netaro: Group date?

Momiji: Yeah, it's something like a party where people gather to form new relationships. I heard that Liguang's little sister would be hosting one soon.

Netaro: Ooh~ Group date, a group date! It has an interesting echo indeed!

Netaro: Now that we have decided, it is time to intrude upon Luu-li!Let us depart, Doudou!

Momiji: Woah, wait! At least let me save my report!!

Momiji: ... And that's the current situation.

Liguang: ...

Netaro: Why do you look so displeased?

Liguang: ... It should be obvious.

Liguang: Since LinXing is hosting the event, I'm certain she would be pleased to have more participants join.

Liguang: But when said participant is you...

Netaro: I cannot help but get the feeling that you think quite poorly of me...

Netaro: How about this, if you would allow my participation, I could make these fluffy twin-eared critters even fluffier and cuter than ever!

Liguang: Try and lay a finger on them, I'll make sure you regret ever being born.

Netaro: You would make me regret my birth over something like this?

Momiji: Um, well, can you let him in just this once? I'll be with him too.

Momiji: ... I was the one who brought it up in the first place, I'll take responsibility for it.

Liguang: ... I'll allow it since it's your request.

Momiji: Thank you very much.

Liguang: However, Yowa.

Netaro: Oyo?

Liguang: If I hear that you caused trouble for LinXing or the other participants, we will need to have a "talk".

Netaro: Goodness, that Luu-li fellow. He need not be so dramatic about it. I am, as always, doing my best to stay on the same level as you humans.

Netaro: Oh well. Group date, group date~ I am bursting with anticipation~

Momiji: Netaro-kun looks like he's in a good mood. I'm glad I suggested this.

Momiji: But I get what Liguang-san was concerned about.

Momiji: Although everyone at HAMA Tours is used to Netaro's eccentricity, there's no way to know how people meeting him for the first time would react...

Momiji: I should try out some questions with him.

Momiji: Um, Netaro-kun, what are your hobbies?

Netaro: Nnn... As of recently, dramas and movies have been occupying my time, I enjoy them quite a bit.

Momiji: Oh! That's a pretty solid response, maybe it'll be ok-

Netaro: It is a splendid observation log for human nature indeed. Witnessing humans destroy themselves over intense feelings of love and hatred.... it is simply delectable.

Momiji: ...What are your favorite foods?

Netaro: Meat buns! Firefly squids are a no-go, they remind me too much of a superior of mine and make my stomach churn. Those eyes especially...

Momiji: ........ How about a special skill?

Netaro: I must say I am quite skilled at inventing amusing gadgets! My latest masterpiece is a glove that can squirt out orange juice indefinitely from the fingers-

Momiji: Stop, Netaro-kun. Just, stop.

Momiji: This is bad! I can't let him participate at this rate!

Netaro: Whatever is the matter? Would you have preferred it squirt out udon instead?

Momiji: That's not it. We need to practice on your Q&A skills today!

Momiji: The better you get at interacting with others, I'm sure it will better your chances at meeting your Beatrice too.

Momiji: I'll accompany your practice too.

Netaro: Doudou is kind indeed~

Netaro: Yes, I shall redouble my efforts as well. Time to level up my speaking skills and aim to be the top conversationalist master~!!

Momiji: That's the spirit!

Momiji: Hmm, first, let's talk to Kinari-kun who's sitting right there.

Netaro: Roger~

Netaro: Nari, I think it would crack me up if we could get laser beams to shoot out of your eyes, but do you mind if I sit next to you?

Kinari: There is an error in communication. I fail to understand the logic behind your sentence.

Kinari: However... A beam is worth considering if it would help me protect Master from any villains. Please give me a detailed explanation.

Momiji: No, you really don't have to do that.

Momiji: The road ahead is going to be a long one...

Notes:

Netaro's nicknames

Doudou is the nickname Netaro has given Chief/The protagonist. I believe the origin of the term is from French, and there are two interpretations of his usage for it. One is where it's used as a term of endearment for a partner, and the other is where it literally translates to a soft piece of fabric or a cuddly toy, implying that Netaro finds the Chief a comforting presence. As far as I've seen, we don't see exactly when or why he gave this nickname to Chief, he simply started using it in the main story and no one showed any surprise.

Luu-Li is Netaro's nickname for Lu Liguang

Nari is Netaro's nickname for Kinari.

Part 2

#yowa netaro #netaro yowa #18trip #18tlip #18trip translation #he's kind of a pain to translate no wonder there's barely any content of him #but I'm here to help the masses hopefully #I love his Doudou nickname its adorable #l4mps

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