#and his student camera crew

[wonbyyou]

pornstar | park sunghoon

synopsis: you get a chance to work with the pornstar sunghoon and you take it

You splashed cold water on your face, staring at your reflection. Sunghoon. Just the name sent a jolt through you. The industry’s golden boy. The one everyone whispered about—his intense gaze, his sculpted body, and the legendary size that supposedly made co-stars weep.

Now, you were about to be paired with him. Your agent had practically screamed with excitement. "He asked for you, honey! Said he liked your look." It felt unreal.

The air on set 3 hung thick and expectant, smelling faintly of ozone from the hot lights, expensive leather from the vintage chaise longue, and the tang of nervous sweat.

And there he was. Sunghoon leaned against a faux bookshelf, dressed in dark trousers and an unbuttoned shirt that revealed the hard lines of his chest and abs. He looked effortless. Powerful. A small smile touched his lips as he saw you approach, genuine warmth in his eyes that instantly eased some of your tension.

"Hey," his voice was low, smooth, without a hint of the arrogance you'd half-expected. "Nervous?"

"A little," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, stepping closer. "Don't be. We’re just playing pretend tonight, yeah? Professor and eager student… needing some extra credit?" The shift was subtle, a darkening in his gaze as he slipped into character, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "You do want to pass my class, don't you?"

His dark eyes as he tracked you, a slow, appraising sweep that started at your trembling hands and ended at your parted lips.

The director, a wiry man with a headset and sharp eyes named Marco, murmured into his mic, "Alright people, places. Camera A tight on Sunghoon’s expression when she walks in. Camera B get a slow pan up her legs. Let’s feel that anticipation." The crew moved with silent efficiency, lenses focusing like predatory insects.

"You look... appropriately flustered," Sunghoon purred, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in the charged air. He pushed off the bookshelf, closing the distance with predatory grace. The shift was instantaneous; the charming co-star vanished, replaced by the stern, hungry professor.

His fingers, cool and strong, gripped your chin, tilting your face up. "Did you complete your reading assignment?" he demanded, his thumb brushing your lower lip with deceptive softness. Before you could answer, his mouth crashed down on yours. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a claiming.

His tongue thrust deep, tasting, dominating, muffling your gasp. One hand tangled roughly in your hair, pulling your head back to deepen the invasion, while the other slid beneath your prim blouse, finding the lace of your bra and then the stiffening peak of your nipple.

He pinched, hard and cruel, rolling the bud between thumb and forefinger until you whimpered into his mouth. "Silence," he commanded against your lips, breaking the kiss. A thin strand of saliva connected you. "Kneel. Now. Demonstrate your understanding of the subject matter."

The thick pile of the Persian rug bit into your knees as you obeyed. Marco’s voice crackled softly: "Camera C low angle on her descent. Focus on the hands shaking on the belt buckle." Your fingers fumbled against the cool metal of Sunghoon’s belt, your pulse pounding in your ears. The zip seemed impossibly loud in the hushed set.

Then, it sprang free. The sheer presence of his cock was staggering. Thick at the base, pulsing with heat and prominent blue veins snaking up the impressive shaft that curved proudly upwards. The mushroomed head, slick with pre-come and flushed a deep crimson, glistened obscenely under the lights. It looked less like flesh and more like carved marble—heavy, veined, and utterly intimidating.

"Open," Sunghoon ordered, his voice tight. You strained to take just the broad crown past your lips, your jaw already aching. The taste was musky and salty, flooding your senses. As soon as the thick head nudged the back of your throat, your body convulsed.

You gagged violently, tears springing instantly to your eyes. "Look at that," Sunghoon chuckled darkly above you, his hand tightening in your hair like a vise.

He pushed forward another relentless inch, stretching your lips wide, forcing himself deeper into the constricting heat of your throat. You choked again, saliva bubbling past your lips, dripping onto your chin and chest in thick, glistening strands.

"Christ, listen to her," he groaned, his hips giving a shallow thrust that made you retch. "Sloppy little thing. Can’t even handle the first chapter."

Marco’s directive was sharp: "Zoom in on the spit running down her neck, Camera B. Hold on those tears."

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, letting you drag in a ragged, wet breath before plunging back in, deeper this time. "Tongue flat," he instructed harshly. "Try to swallow it down. Show me you want to learn." He established a brutal rhythm: short, insistent thrusts that battered your gag reflex relentlessly.

Each push forced thick saliva to overflow, coating his shaft and your chin in a slick mess. The sounds were obscene—wet gags, choked whimpers, the slick slap of flesh as he fucked your mouth with increasing force.

"That’s it... gag harder... make it messy... fuck, your throat grips me like a greedy little fist..." His degradation was constant, filthy praise wrapped in scorn that only ignited the fire in your core.

Your jaw screamed in protest, your throat burned, tears blurred your vision completely, but the sound of his ragged groans, the feel of him thickening impossibly further in your mouth, the sheer humiliation captured by the unblinking cameras—it was perversely intoxicating.

"Alright, cut there for a sec," Marco announced. "Sunghoon, stay hard. Makeup, quick touch-up on her face—more sheen, keep those tears running clean."

Cold powder puffed against your flushed skin as a technician dabbed at the sweat and tears. Sunghoon didn’t move, his cock resting heavily on your tongue, throbbing. His eyes held yours, dark pools of pure heat. "You look divine when you cry," he murmured, only for you to hear.

"Back in five... four..." Marco counted down.

Sunghoon pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop that echoed. A thick rope of spit snapped and landed on your cheekbone. In one fluid motion, he hauled you up by your hair and shoved you face-first over the plush back of the chaise longue.

"Camera D get overhead," Marco directed.

Your skirt was yanked up brutally. You heard the sharp rip of lace as Sunghoon tore your panties aside, exposing you completely to the cool air and the hungry lenses. The broad, blunt head of his cock pressed against your soaked entrance—an impossible pressure, hot and insistent. You felt absurdly stretched already, just by its presence.

"Professor doesn't believe in shortcuts," he growled, his voice thick with strain. One hand pinned your hip to the leather; the other guided his cockhead. With deliberate, agonizing slowness, he pushed.

The stretch was searing, breathtakingly intense as the massive crown began to breach you. Inch by devastating inch, he forced himself inside, your body protesting violently, clamping down on the invading girth. You cried out, a high-pitched sound muffled by the leather.

Marco’s voice was a low hum: "Camera A tight on penetration... beautiful resistance... keep rolling..."

Sunghoon paused when he was barely halfway sheathed, buried impossibly deep already. He leaned over you, his chest hot and slick with sweat against your back, his breath hot on your ear. "Tight little cunt," he rasped. "Never taken anything like this before, have you? Feels like you're being split open."

He withdrew slowly, almost completely, letting you feel every ridge of him dragging against your sensitized walls, then slammed back in to the same impossible depth with one powerful thrust that punched the air from your lungs. "Fuck!" he grunted.

He began a relentless rhythm: deep, deliberate strokes that reached depths untouched before. Each withdrawal was an aching loss; each penetration a shocking fullness that bordered on pain but vibrated with pure pleasure.

The chaise groaned under their combined weight and force. Sunghoon’s grip on your hip was bruising, fingers digging into flesh as he pulled you back onto him with every powerful drive of his hips. Sweat dripped from his brow onto the small of your back.

After several minutes of this deep, piston-like fucking that had you mewling incoherently into the leather, his free hand snaked around your hip.

His fingers found your swollen clit instantly. Not teasing. Not gentle. He rubbed hard, fast circles directly on the hypersensitive nub in perfect counterpoint to the deep pounding inside you.

"Oh god... please..." you sobbed, lost in the overwhelming sensation—the profound stretch and drag of his enormous cock filling you utterly, and the sharp, electric fire his fingers sparked on your clit.

"Please what?" Sunghoon demanded, his thrusts becoming sharper, deeper still. He pressed down hard on your clit with his thumb while two fingers rubbed fiercely side-to-side. "Beg properly. Tell me what you need."

"I... I need to come!" you cried out, shamelessly grinding back against him and into his hand.

"Not yet," he growled, deliberately slowing his thrusts while maintaining the ruthless pressure on your clit. The denial was exquisite torture. He held you right on the knife-edge for agonizing moments as the crew watched silently, cameras drinking it in.

"You come," he snarled, punctuating each word with a deep, grinding thrust that made you see stars, "when... I... fucking... tell... you... to... come!" His fingers became a blur on your clit.

It was too much. The denial shattered like glass. An orgasm detonated within you unlike any other—a primal wave of pure ecstasy that tore through every nerve ending. Your back arched violently off the chaise as if struck by lightning.

Your inner walls clenched around Sunghoon’s buried cock in frantic, rhythmic spasms so intense they were almost painful.

A scream ripped from your throat as the climax seized you utterly, wave after wave of blinding pleasure washing through you, milking his cock with relentless pressure. It went on and on, leaving you trembling uncontrollably.

Sunghoon moaned loudly above you as your violent contractions triggered his own release. He slammed home one final time, burying himself impossibly deep as hot jets of come pulsed forcefully inside you in thick, rhythmic spurts that seemed endless.

He held himself there, pressed flush against you, both bodies shuddering through the aftershocks for long moments, slick and panting.

He finally pulled out slowly, a slick, obscene sound accompanying the sudden emptiness that felt cavernous. He turned you gently onto your back on the chaise.

His expression was a mix of fierce satisfaction and something almost like awe as he looked down at your wrecked state: tear-streaked face still smeared with drying spit and fresh sweat, lips swollen and reddened from stretching around him earlier, eyes glazed and unfocused, thighs glistening with sweat and arousal and his release leaking onto the leather.

Marco murmured, "Hold on that close-up... gorgeous devastation." Sunghoon leaned down close again, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as cameras whirred.

Sunghoon swiped a thumb through the mess on your cheekbone where spit and tears had mixed. "Perfect performance." His eyes held yours for a beat longer before he straightened up under the unforgiving lights.

"Cut!" Marco yelled. "That's a wrap! Holy hell." But Sunghoon’s gaze stayed locked on yours for a second longer than necessary.

-

part 2 here

part 3 here

[mrspiastri]

✩ lights, camera, action! 📸

pairing: lando norris x reader

cw: fluff, annoying reporters, austria 2024

wc: 4.9k words

an: thanks for the req anon, hope u like it! pls excuse any spelling errors i could not be arsed enough to proofread this more than twice :p

“So, they’re just going to be in our house… recording us the entire day?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“And this is happening for a month?”

“Maybe two, depending on how much footage they need.”

A beat of silence.

Lando turned to his girlfriend, watching as she set her Kindle down and looked at him with a sharp glare. All she had wanted was a quiet night in, some light reading before bed, not this conversation.

“So, what do you think?” he asked carefully.

“I think you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Lando stifled a chuckle, scooting closer despite the warning in her eyes. “It’s not that bad, I promise. They’ll get all your good angles. And if there’s anything you don’t want in, I’ll make sure they cut it out.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. The idea of letting a camera crew into their home, her safe space, the one place where she could collapse onto the couch after work without a second thought, was unsettling.

“Look, I’m not going to force you,” Lando said, his voice softer now. “Just think about it. It’s like… our moments together being immortalized.”

She arched her brow, still unconvinced.

“We could even look back on them years later,” he continued, ever the optimist. “Show them to our kids!”

Y/N gave him a long, unimpressed stare.

“Just give me a day or two,” she muttered at last.

“Of course, love.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before letting the subject drop.

Three days later, Y/N found herself reluctantly agreeing, under strict conditions:

1. No cameras before 9 AM or after 10 PM.

2. No filming arguments or fights (if they happened).

3. No recording private conversations.

The production team had no issue following her rules, and soon enough, cameras and microphones became a regular sight in their living room and kitchen.

To her surprise, it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The Drive To Survive crew was respectful, and off-camera, they were actually lovely to talk to.

Not that she’d ever admit it to Lando. She had no interest in hearing an “ I told you so.”

Still, she had to admit, there was something oddly enjoyable about it. The cameras felt natural, capturing the effortless way she and Lando fit together. Their banter. Their energy.

Even the crew enjoyed filming them. Because if there was one thing about Y/N and Lando, it was that they were effortlessly entertaining.

The couple had an air of domesticity around them, which was visible during certain moments, like when Y/N announced she was going grocery shopping.

🪻🪻

She didn’t question it at first.

Lando had followed her around their apartment, slipping on his hoodie and sneakers, acting as if they were about to embark on some thrilling adventure rather than… well, a simple trip to the grocery store. But when he practically rushed out the door behind her, stuffing his hands into his pockets like he was trying to play it cool, she finally turned to him with a raised brow.

"Alright, what’s going on?"

Lando blinked at her, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"

"You insisted on coming with me," she pointed out as she slid into the passenger seat of her car. "Since when are you so eager to go grocery shopping?"

Lando smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Maybe I just like spending time with you."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "It’s just shopping, Lando."

"Yes… and?"

She shot him a look, but he only grinned, reaching over to intertwine his fingers with hers as he started the car. She glanced down at their joined hands, warmth flickering in her chest.

Maybe it was just shopping. But to him, time with her, no matter how mundane, was worth tagging along for.

The grocery store was as uneventful as ever, aisles filled with tired parents, students grabbing last-minute essentials, and employees stacking shelves. Y/N navigated the space with practiced ease, mentally ticking off the list in her head.

Lando, on the other hand, was thoroughly entertained by everything.

"You know, people are going to think I’m useless because you’re the one actually shopping," Lando mused, walking beside you with a basket dangling from his arm. A small mic was clipped to his hoodie, and a camera trailed at a respectful distance, catching every moment.

"You are useless," you teased, grabbing a carton of eggs and placing them into the basket.

Lando let out a scandalized gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "Excuse me? I am an excellent grocery shopper. Watch this."

Before you could stop him, he darted toward a display of snacks, dramatically grabbing a family-sized bag of chips and tossing it into the basket. The camera crew caught it all, no doubt enjoying his antics.

"Wow," you said dryly, watching him grin. "Such a valuable contribution."

"You’re welcome." He leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "At least pretend I’m helpful, love. My reputation is at stake."

She shook her head, amused. He stayed close beside her, fingers occasionally brushing hers when he pointed out random things, a ridiculous cereal box, a weirdly shaped vegetable, an overpriced snack that made him nearly collapse in shock.

Then, as they rounded the next aisle, something caught her eye.

"No way," Y/N gasped, halting so suddenly that Lando bumped into her.

"What? What happened? Are we in danger?" he asked dramatically, clutching her arm.

She ignored him, grabbing a brightly colored package from the meat fridge. “It’s the spicy chorizo I was looking for! It’s been out of stock for months! Lando, do you know what this means?"

"Uh," he blinked, glancing at the box in her hands. "That some company is trying to get people to buy their products again?"

She huffed. "No, dummy. This means I can finally make those chorizo tapas you love so much."

Lando stared at her, as if processing her words. "Wait. You mean—?"

"Yeah," she said, waving the package at him. "You always say it’s one of your favorites, right? So I’ll make it the way it’s meant to be made, not with those other lame brands.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just looked at her. And then, unexpectedly, he reached for her hand and squeezed it, his thumb running over her knuckles.

"You remembered that?" His voice was quieter now, softer.

She scoffed. "Of course, I did. You never shut up about it."

Lando let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, but there was something fond in his eyes, something almost touched.

"You’re the best," he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Right there in the middle of the grocery aisle, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, with an old woman giving them a knowing smile as she passed.

Y/N felt warmth creep up her neck, but she just rolled her eyes. "I know."

Lando grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they continued walking. "See? And you thought I was weird for wanting to tag along."

"You are weird."

"Yeah, but I’m your kind of weird."

She laughed, leaning into his side as they made their way to checkout.

Maybe it was just shopping.

But with Lando, even the ordinary felt like something special.

🪻🪻🪻

The morning sun cast a golden glow over their Monaco apartment, filling the space with soft warmth. The neatly packed bags by the door were a reminder of the plans they’d made, plans Y/N had initially thought were just a fleeting idea when Lando suggested them. But here they were, two years into their relationship, and he was still finding ways to make things special.

Lando stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, voice still thick with sleep.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

She smiled, tilting her head slightly to press a kiss to his forehead. “Happy anniversary, Lando.”

He hummed in contentment, pulling her closer. “Can we just stay in bed all day instead?”

Y/N laughed softly, tracing lazy patterns along his back. “As tempting as that sounds, weren’t you the one who planned this whole day trip?”

Lando groaned dramatically, burying his face deeper into the pillow. “Who let me make decisions?”

“You did.”

Another groan.

A small chuckle from the corner of the room made her glance over, where one of the film crew members was adjusting a camera, capturing the intimate yet domestic moment. Lando peeked an eye open and groaned even louder when he saw them.

“Great,” he mumbled. “Now the world gets to see me beg to stay in bed.”

Y/N grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his nose before slipping out from under the covers. “Come on, sleepyhead. We have a road trip to go on.”

By mid-morning, they were driving along the winding coastal roads of the French Riviera, two crew members filming them from the back seat, capturing snippets of their journey. Lando’s hand rested on Y/N’s thigh as he effortlessly steered with the other, the soft hum of music filling the space between them.

She glanced over at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “So, are you ever going to tell me why you picked Èze?”

Lando smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to impress you with my impeccable taste?”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her fondness.

The moment they arrived in Èze, Lando reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers as they wandered through the narrow, cobbled streets. The medieval village, perched high above the Côte d’Azur, was breathtaking, its stone walls adorned with climbing vines, small boutiques tucked into hidden corners, and the salty sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh flowers.

The crew trailed them subtly, capturing the way Lando would lean in every few minutes just to steal a quick kiss, or how his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns against her skin as they stopped to admire the view.

“You do realize people are going to say you’re way too clingy, right?” Y/N teased, nodding toward one of the cameras.

Lando shrugged, unbothered. “Let them.” He turned to the nearest cameraman, grinning. “I am clingy. Make sure you put that in the episode.”

The crew chuckled, but Y/N just shook her head, laughing as Lando pulled her into the nearest café.

Lunch was slow and easy, filled with stolen bites of food, quiet laughter, and the occasional “Look at him being soft” comment from Y/N to the film crew. Lando didn’t seem to care, not when she was there, looking at him like he was her favorite thing in the world.

When dessert arrived, two chocolate soufflés, Lando picked up a spoonful and held it out for her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to feed me while they’re filming?”

He smirked. “It’s romantic.”

She rolled her eyes but leaned in anyway, letting him feed her. Lando grinned triumphantly, stealing a bite for himself.

“Put that in the episode, too,” he quipped.

As the afternoon stretched on, they hiked up to the Jardin Exotique, a stunning garden perched at the very top of Èze. The panoramic view of the coastline was nothing short of magical, the kind of scene that made everything else feel small in comparison.

Lando wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“This might be my favorite anniversary so far,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, tilting her head to rest against his. “We’ve only had two.”

“Still. It’s hard to beat.”

A breeze drifted through, ruffling his curls as he held her, their hands fitting together so effortlessly.

Y/N turned in his arms, her gaze soft. “I love you, you know.”

Lando’s eyes searched hers for a moment before he cupped her face, pressing a slow, tender kiss to her lips, one that felt like a promise, like forever.

When they pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, exhaling deeply. “I know,” he whispered. “And I love you more.”

A cough from behind them broke the moment, and one of the crew members hesitated before speaking.

“Uh… that was beautiful,” they admitted. “Can you do it again for a better angle?”

Lando groaned as Y/N burst into laughter.

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, pulling her closer with a mischievous grin. “Guess we have to keep kissing.”

🪻🪻🪻

The second Y/N stepped into the apartment, she knew something was different. It wasn’t just the warmth of the space or the soft glow of the kitchen lights, there was something familiar in the air. A rich, buttery scent, layered with warm spices, the kind that immediately sent a comforting feeling straight to her soul.

She froze mid-step.

That was butter chicken.

Her favorite food.

And there was only one person in this house who would make that for her.

Her heart raced as she set her bag down and rounded the corner into the kitchen, where she found exactly what she hoped to see Lando, standing at the stove, stirring a pot with the kind of focus he usually reserved for a race car. His curls were still damp from a recent shower, his sleeves pushed up as he leaned against the counter, tasting the sauce with an expression of concentration.

He looked up just as she entered, and the slow smile that spread across his face made her stomach flip.

“Hey, love.”

She blinked, still processing. “You’re… home?”

He smirked. “Surprise.”

Her mouth fell open. “But… you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow night?”

“Got an earlier flight.” He turned back to the stove, giving the pot one last stir before lowering the heat. “Figured I’d come back and make your favorite.”

She couldn’t believe it. She had been fully prepared to spend the evening alone, eating something mediocre while scrolling through her phone, missing him. But instead, he was here. Cooking for her.

Y/N didn’t think, she just launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his hoodie as she breathed him in.

Lando laughed as he caught her, arms circling her shoulders as he held her close. “I take it you missed me?”

“Obviously,” she mumbled against his chest. “You were gone for so long.”

“Babe, it was five days.”

“Exactly. Too long.”

He chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to her hair. “Missed you too, love.”

A throat cleared from the corner of the kitchen, and Y/N stiffened slightly before peeking over Lando’s shoulder, only to find one of the crew members, clearly amused.

She groaned, burying her face back into Lando’s chest. “You let them film this?”

“I didn’t let them,” he said, amused. “They just… didn’t leave. Wanted to see you surprised and all.”

One of the crew members laughed. “In our defense, this is adorable.”

Lando grinned, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. “Come on, love. You don’t want the world to see how obsessed you are with me?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I will shove your face into that butter chicken.”

His smirk widened. “Joke’s on you, I made extra.”

She rolled her eyes but let him pull her closer, letting herself bask in the warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of home.

Later, as they sat at the dining table, Lando watched her take her first bite, waiting for her reaction like a nervous contestant on a cooking show.

Y/N hummed in delight, eyes closing briefly as the flavors hit her tongue. “Oh my God.”

His lips twitched. “Good?”

She opened her eyes, pointing her spoon at him. “Suspiciously good. Since when can you cook like this?”

Lando leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “What, you think I can’t learn things?”

“I just… didn’t know you wanted to.”

He shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I just wanted to impress my girlfriend.”

Y/N softened, her heart swelling. “You have impressed me. This is amazing.”

“Damn right it is.”

She giggled, shaking her head before taking another bite. “Okay, tell me about Shanghai. How was the race?”

Lando exhaled dramatically, shifting in his seat. “Ugh. Where do I even start? First of all, the strategy was so weird, like, I don’t know what they were thinking. And then, I had this fight with Max for like a hundred laps, and I swear, I thought we were gonna crash at least three times—”

As he continued, his hands animatedly reenacting the on-track battles, Y/N just sat there, watching him, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

She loved seeing him like this, completely in his element, passionate, excited. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about racing, the way his hands moved as if he were still behind the wheel.

“You’re staring,” Lando suddenly noted, smirking.

She blinked, cheeks warming. “No, I’m not.”

“You are.” He leaned in, resting his chin in his hand as he grinned. “You’re in love with me.”

She scoffed, trying (and failing) to hide her smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Norris.”

“I mean, I did just fly home early and make your favorite food…” He reached across the table, running his fingers gently over her wrist. “Pretty sure that earns me some extra love points.”

Y/N laughed softly, flipping her hand to intertwine their fingers. “You already have all my love points, you idiot.”

He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Good. I plan on keeping them.”

She shook her head, taking another bite of the butter chicken. “Okay, but seriously, I want to hear the rest. So, you and Max—”

“Shh.” Lando reached over and gently placed a spoonful of rice on her plate, then another, before looking at her expectantly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you just—”

“Just shh and eat,” he said, his voice playfully firm. “I know you. If I let you talk too much, you’ll forget to eat, and then you’ll be grumpy later.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the corners of her lips twitched. “You’re so annoying.”

Lando laughed, leaning over the table to steal a quick kiss. “Yeah, yeah. Now eat up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but obeyed, feeling impossibly warm inside.

There was something so simple about moments like this, the quiet, easy rhythm of their lives together. The way Lando cared for her in ways that weren’t always grand gestures but in the little things. The way he listened, the way he noticed, the way he just knew her.

Even with cameras in the background, even with the world watching, this was theirs.

And Y/N wouldn’t trade it for anything.

🪻🪻🪻

Las Vegas was supposed to be his night.

Lando sat in the dimly lit hospitality suite, still in his race suit, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles were white. The weight of the evening pressed down on him, Max had clinched the title, and he had been so close. The points gap wasn’t enormous. If things had gone just slightly differently, if the strategy had been sharper, if he had just pushed a little harder—

He exhaled sharply, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the floor.

The suite was silent, except for the muffled sounds of celebration echoing from outside. His team was still proud, of course. McLaren had fought hard all season. He had fought hard. But second place wasn’t the dream. First was the dream.

And he had lost it.

The quiet creak of the door barely registered in his mind, but the soft footsteps that followed were unmistakable.

Y/N.

She didn’t say anything at first. She simply walked over, standing beside him for a moment, watching him.

Then, she crouched down in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “Lando.”

His eyes flickered up to hers. He knew the cameras were still rolling somewhere in the room, capturing all of this, his frustration, his exhaustion, the moment where his season had slipped away.

But right now, he didn’t care.

Y/N’s gaze was steady, her touch grounding. Slowly, she reached up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the sharp line of his jaw.

“Talk to me,” she murmured.

Lando exhaled through his nose, his hand coming up to cover hers, pressing it against his skin as if he needed the contact to anchor him.

“I should’ve done more,” he finally muttered.

She frowned. “Lando—”

“No, really,” he cut in, shaking his head. “It was so close. We had the pace. We had the car. I just—” He exhaled roughly, eyes darting away. “I wasn’t good enough.”

Her heart ached at the way he said it, at the way his voice dipped into something raw and self-deprecating.

“Lando,” she said softly but firmly, tilting his face back toward her. “You were more than good enough.”

He let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Because you expect perfection from yourself. But look at what you did this season. Look at how hard you fought. You challenged Max. You took it down to the wire when no one thought you could. You made them believe.”

His gaze softened, but she wasn’t finished.

“You think second place makes you less?” she whispered. “It doesn’t. You’re still you, Lando. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

His throat bobbed, his grip on her hand tightening.

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbled.

Y/N shook her head. “I never just say things. You know that.”

He let out a slow breath, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to hold onto her words, trying to let them sink in.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, with a small sigh, he pulled her into his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

She smiled faintly, running her fingers through his curls. He never did well with failure, not because he wasn’t used to it, but because he always carried it too much.

But he wasn’t alone in this.

And as she held him, rocking him slightly, she could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease.

The crew was still there, capturing every second.

But all Lando cared about was her.

And somehow, for the first time all night, losing didn’t feel quite so devastating.

The press pen after the race was always exhausting, but tonight, it was unbearable.

Lando had lost the championship. He had done every interview with his usual composure, polite, measured, controlled. He had smiled when necessary, congratulated Max, and answered the same four questions in slightly different ways.

But this one?

This one was pushing it.

"Lando, do you think this was your only real shot at a title? Or do you worry you might just not have what it takes?"

The question landed like a slap.

Lando barely blinked. His PR training kicked in immediately, forcing a neutral expression as he nodded, exhaling through his nose.

"Look, we had a great season, and I’m proud of what we achieved. Obviously, it didn’t end the way we wanted, but I know we’ll come back stronger."

It was the kind of answer that was designed to deflect, to keep things from escalating.

The interviewer, however, seemed satisfied with their little dig, moving on to the next driver.

Lando barely had time to process it before he heard a very familiar voice from just beyond the camera crew.

"Are you actually kidding me right now?"

He turned just in time to see Y/N standing off to the side, arms crossed, glaring absolute murder at the interviewer’s back.

The Drive to Survive crew, who had been filming his interview, immediately turned their cameras to her.

"What kind of stupid question was that?" she ranted, clearly not caring that she was being recorded. "‘Do you think you don’t have what it takes?’ Seriously? What kind of journalism school did this guy go to? All he knows is how to rile people up!”

Lando pressed his lips together, trying very, very hard not to laugh.

She was fuming.

"He should be embarrassed," she continued, still glaring. "Lando literally fought for this title until the last possible second, and that’s the best he could come up with? I should go over there right now—"

Lando immediately stepped in, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her into his chest before she could march into the press pen and make headlines. "Alright, alright," he murmured against her hair, biting back a grin. "That’s enough murder threats for one night."

"I wasn’t threatening murder," she huffed, but she didn’t resist when he turned her to face him. "I was just saying that guy deserves to step on fifty Legos barefoot."

"That’s fair," Lando admitted, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "But I promise, I’m okay."

She searched his face, still frowning slightly. "You shouldn’t have to deal with that."

"I know." He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But I’d rather deal with bad interviews than have to bail my girlfriend out for punching a reporter."

"No promises," she muttered, but her lips twitched, betraying her frustration.

Lando chuckled, then, because he simply couldn’t help himself, tilted her chin up and kissed her, slow and soft, like he had all the time in the world.

He felt the presence of what seemed to be a thousand cameras on them, but he didn’t care.

Because right now, nothing else mattered.

🪻🪻🪻

The studio setup was familiar by now, the sleek black backdrop, the dramatic lighting, the Drive to Survive crew hovering around with their cameras and microphones. It was the same place where all the serious, intense driver interviews had been filmed throughout the season.

Except today, it wasn’t serious.

Because today, it was Lando and Y/N sitting on the interview couch together, and nothing about them being in the same room was ever serious.

Lando leaned back comfortably, one arm draped over the back of the couch behind Y/N, while she sat cross-legged beside him, her fingers lazily toying with the hem of her dress. The crew had barely started rolling when he shot the camera a mischievous grin.

“So,” he said, adjusting his mic, “are we finally getting our own spin-off? Because I think the world deserves to see the behind-the-scenes of my life with this one.” He nudged Y/N playfully.

She snorted. “Your life? Excuse me? I’m the normal one in this relationship.”

The interviewer chuckled. “Lando, would you agree with that?”

Lando turned to her, looking absolutely scandalized. “Absolutely not. This woman started a verbal fight with a group of fans and nearly went after a reporter on my behalf. The only reason she’s not banned from the paddock is because she’s cute.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “The only reason you weren’t banned from my apartment after losing the title was because you’re cute.”

Lando grinned, nudging her shoulder. “So you admit it? I am cute?”

The crew laughed as Y/N let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “Fine. You’re alright.”

“Alright?” He turned to the camera. “You see how she treats me?”

The interviewer, still chuckling, moved on. “Alright, let’s go back to the start of the season. You’ve had a whirlwind year Lando, you were a title contender, and Y/N, you were very vocal throughout. What’s been your favorite moment we’ve captured?”

Y/N hummed, tapping her chin. “Ooh, good question. Probably when Lando lost his mind after that crash with Max.”

The crew laughed knowingly.

Lando groaned, but he was smiling. “Of course that’s your favorite. Not like, I don’t know, any of my actual racing?”

“Oh, right,” she said, grinning. “The whole driving really fast thing. You’re decent at that.”

The interviewer raised a brow. “Just decent?”

Lando turned to Y/N, smirking. “I was in a title fight, you know.”

“Okay, okay, you were great,” she admitted, patting his knee. “There. Happy?”

Lando nodded smugly. “Very.”

The interviewer smiled. “And Lando, what about you? Favorite moment we’ve captured?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Her reaction after my first win in Miami.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

Lando looked at her, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, I mean I’d never seen you that happy.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I like making you happy.”

Y/N bit her lip, warmth spreading in her chest. “Okay, that was kinda sweet.”

“I have my moments,” Lando said, leaning in closer. “You should kiss me now.”

The crew laughed, but Y/N just pushed his face away with a laugh. “We’re literally being filmed right now, Norris.”

“Yeah, and?”

The interviewer, still amused, decided to wrap things up. “Alright, last question. If you had to describe this season in one word, what would it be?”

Lando thought for a second, then smirked. “Chaotic.”

Y/N groaned. “Please don’t say—”

“Because of you,” Lando finished, grinning as he dodged the pillow she threw at him.

She sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Fine. Then my word is entertaining, because watching Lando suffer through PR answers all season has been hilarious.”

Lando turned to the camera, deadpan. “She’s so lucky I love her.”

The crew laughed as Y/N leaned into him, stealing a quick peck on his cheek. “And you’re so lucky I put up with you.”

He smiled, lacing their fingers together. “Best kind of luck, isn’t it?”

And just like that, the season wrapped.

not so sure about this one, but then again when am i ever sure about anything! <3 also i am accepting requests, so feel free to send your prompts or ideas with any of the drivers xoxo

[rafecameronssl4t]

Out of my league || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Fans have always speculated that Drew was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Drew's socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.

Warnings: age gap (r is 23)

Word count: 515

A/n: my absolute dream to study law at Yale, Oxford or Edinburgh 😔😔

MASTERLIST

"Omg!" Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the message from your sister, her excitement practically radiating through the screen. Without hesitation, you tap on the link she attached. It directs you to a fresh, two-minute interview of your boyfriend, Drew, from the red carpet premiere of Queer. The video had been posted mere minutes ago, and your curiosity piqued as you hit play.

The clip begins with Drew stepping confidently into the spotlight, his tailored black suit fitting him perfectly, exuding effortless charm. His neatly styled hair and sharp features gleamed under the intense glow of the camera flashes. Seeing him like this—a star in every sense of the word—made you pause, a proud smile spreading across your lips.

The interviewer, a charismatic host with a warm smile and infectious energy, introduces Drew before diving straight into the conversation. Her tone is laced with both admiration and curiosity. “Drew, you’ve been receiving such incredible praise for your performance in Queer. Tell us, how was the filming process? What was it like working on such a powerful project?”

Drew’s face lights up, his passion evident as he responds. “Oh, it was an amazing experience,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice carrying a sincerity that draws you in. “Getting the chance to work under Luca’s direction and alongside Daniel was an absolute honour. The cast and crew brought so much energy to the set—it really felt like a family by the end of it.”

He pauses briefly, a soft smile gracing his lips, before adding something that makes your breath catch. “What made it even more special was having my family visit during filming. And my girlfriend…” His eyes momentarily shift, a small but noticeable fondness in his expression. “She took some time off from university to spend a couple of months with me on set in Italy. That support meant the world to me.”

Your heart swells with warmth, a mix of pride and affection bubbling to the surface. Drew rarely spoke about his personal life publicly, but when he did, it was always with the kind of sincerity that made you feel like the luckiest person alive. Those two months in Italy had been unforgettable, the perfect escape from the stress of your law studies at Yale.

The interviewer lets out an audible gasp, clearly surprised by Drew’s candid revelation. “Wait, you have a girlfriend? This is definitely news to us.” Drew chuckles softly, nodding. “I do. She’s brilliant. Balancing law school while putting up with me can’t be easy and honestly, I think she's out of my league.” Drew chuckles. Who is this mystery woman? How could someone possibly be out of Drew’s league?

The mystery only fuels the frenzy, and it doesn’t take long for determined fans to track down your Instagram account. Your page, once a space where you documented your life, was now flooded with notifications. Followers pour in by the thousands, combing through your posts for any clue about your connection to Drew. Fans are both shocked and delighted. You’re not what they expected, but in the best way.

y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by drewstarkey and 2,937 others

this months dump!

view all comments

yourfriendsusername: 😍😍

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!!

yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂

user1: omg so this is Drew’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS

user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?

↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE STUDYING LAW

user4: eh she’s mid

↘️ user5: studying law at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭

user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂

user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Drew Starkey? Damn girl.

user8: now how has she done that

~

drewstarkey

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, madelyncline, jonathandavissofficial and 9,208,102 others

yeah my gf is cooler than me.

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey 😄

↘️ drewstarkey: volume up, Alexa!

madelyncline: she’s such a smart cookie 😝

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: come see me again gf 😔

↘️ madelyncline: yes ma’am!

jonathandavissofficial: ya’ll cute

↘️ drewstarkey: ur cute

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: what’s going on here?

user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!

user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆

user3: how has a uni student bagged Drew Starkey

user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t 🙏

↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO U

↘️ user6: ur so lucky to call Drew ur man

↘️user7: nah, he’s acc my man

user8: as if we acc thought this majestic man was single 😭

[reiderwriter]

💫 Starry-Eyed 💫

Pairing: Porn Star! Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: For work experience, you take a job working the cameras on a porn shoot, but after becoming suddenly attracted to a new coworker, you shortly find yourself as a fluffer, the person whose job it is to keep the "talent" aroused between takes.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Porn AU, College AU kinda, exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), consensual voyeurism, masturbation (male), blow job, deep throating, messy orgasm.

A/N: Well, look at where we are. I think this actually counts as my first Alternate Universe fic, which is crazy all things considered. I'm really enjoying the Kink Bingo Challenge as it's leading me to so many new ideas for fics!! I hope you all enjoy this one 🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Being a college student still at age 25 meant many things, but mostly, it meant you had friends at many different stages of their lives. Some were fresh out of high school halls, enjoying their first taste of freedom, some were enjoying their first drops of alcohol. Some were giving up alcohol for good and starting families. 

Some of them were successful porn stars who'd funded their own start-up porn production company. It certainly was one way to use a film degree. You knew a professor or two who would enjoy her work more than half your syllabus as well. 

Candi Rapper had become famous doing cam shows in her first year of college and had gone all-in after graduation. You'd shared a few classes in the early days, before you took a break from college for financial reasons, of course. By the time you'd gone back, she was a big time and now in the position to offer you a job. 

“One of my crews is down a cameraman this weekend. If you're open to it, I pay a fair wage?” she'd offed at your weekly brunch. 

“Will you be the star?” You joked back with her. 

“You wish.” 

You took the job, of course, along with a ride from Candi (her name was Kate, but you'd let her pretend) and pulled up on site bright and alert at 7am. 

The set was a large mansion - typical, Candi said - and you'd be mostly shooting in the living room - typical, Candi said. You'd had to tell her after her second typical that you were, in fact, an adult and had seen at least one porno before until she cut out pornsplaining everything to you. She introduced you to the key staff and the director, and they got you set up at your camera. 

“The shoot today is going to be around 5 hours. You'll be on camera three. The papers in front have your cues and directions. You can have some free time until we start. There's a breakfast spread in the kitchen, help yourself.”

Not one to turn down free food, you bee-lined there and stood awkwardly in line for the coffee with the dozen or so other crew members, eyeing up the take-out pancakes organised across the granite surface. 

“Your first time?” An older man asked from behind you, smiling in a friendly manner. 

“You can tell?” 

“You're thinking about eating the pancakes, and the rest of us are remembering the scene filmed there last weekend," as if on queue, a shiver ran down his spine. "Yeah, we can tell.” You laughed along with the man's joke and finally grabbed your coffee. 

Luck just wasn't on your side, though, as you turned and immediately ran into someone immediately sloshing the coffee onto your shirt. 

“Oh my god, I am so - I'm so sorry, I need to watch where I'm going.” 

You'd run into 6’3” of lanky, awkward male perfection. He looked young, your age or younger most likely, and was fidgeting as he stood, the most obviously uncomfortable person in the building.

Your first thought was “Is he lost?” closely followed by “Can I beg him to get lost in a linen closet somewhere with me?” 

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the counter nearby and began attempting to wipe away the coffee you'd spilt down yourself, completely unaware that he was fondling your breasts in his haste to do so. 

“Slow down there, tiger, shoot doesn't start for another half hour,” you said, winking at him as you took the tissues from his panicked hands and dried yourself as best you could. 

“I know, I memorised the call sheet. Who are you?” His question was blunt, but you weren't taken aback at all, your smile even deepening as you enjoyed his subtle attention. 

“I'm Y/N. It's my first time.” 

He spluttered, coming up with an answer to that, and you immediately cursed yourself for the slip. 

“My first time on set, not my- I'm 25. Not that age determines experience per say but-”

“I'm 22. And my name is Spencer,” he said, grasping your hand and shaking it. 

“So, it's your first time on set?” He asked, relaxing more into the conversation as he stepped closer to you, letting the other staff members come and go from the kitchen. 

“Yeah. My friend offered me the job, you know Candi?” 

He nodded but didn't speak, so you continued. 

“She thought the experience would be good for me. And the cash. Gotta put myself through college somehow, and it was this or stripping.” 

He laughed, and you felt a flash of warmth in your stomach, a familiar hunger spreading across your lower body. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the set, but the air was charged with arousal. 

“Well, you're certainly attractive enough to do both jobs. I'm sure the camera is going to love you,” he said, sounding so genuine and enthusiastic that you almost felt bad you had to correct him.

“Oh! Oh, no, Spencer, I'm not - I'm, uh, I'm going to be behind the camera. Behind camera number two.” 

His face instantly flushed, and you thought you saw a pang of disappointment there for a second, too. The thought of him being disappointed made your skin heat, that he'd been looking forward somehow to watching you get fucked? Your cunt throbbed and suddenly, you found you did wish to display yourself, to let everyone see if it meant that he got to.

“I am so sorry. I didn't - I thought… No, I didn't think, I… I'll shut up now, please excuse me-” 

“No, Spencer, wait-” 

You tried to call after him, but he sent you an embarrassed smile and walked off in haste, leaving you behind as the director called people to their places. 

You were still flushed with arousal as you moved to your station, getting your camera ready for filming. You were distracted even as the scene started, and the female actress came on set, already stripped down to her underwear and touching herself, teasing the camera. 

Surprisingly, you found the work easy enough, too busy focusing on the settings and the gaze of the camera to even care about what was going on down the lens. She was moaning and writhing and gasping sure, to the benefit of the cameras, and although strangely intimate, nobody in the room seemed bothered, so neither did you. 

Or neither did you until the actual scenario started, and your actress got ‘caught’ doing the dirty by the needy boy next door. You hadn't looked at the call sheet closely enough as Spencer peeped through the door to the bedroom, entering the scene not by accident but as a scripted part of the show. 

Your eyes bulged out of your head as you immediately looked down to your prompt sheet to find his name there. 

LEAD ACTOR: SPENCER REID

His stage name was scribbled next to that, but you paid it no attention as you steadied your camera again and got to filming seriously again. 

The actress had pulled his glasses off and led him to the bed, letting him keep on his sweater vest and tie as she pulled his head between her legs, and he started doing his job. 

Even from your view to the side of him, you could tell this wasn't his first time doing that. His tongue spread across the expanse of her heat, first, letting her grind into his face, getting comfortable before he snaked a hand up to her stomach and held her in place for as long as he so desired.

Then, he rolled her clit into his mouth and sucked. The fake moans and whimpers suddenly became real as you saw the sheer skill of his tongue ripple through the woman's body. 

You couldn't even be jealous at this point, despite how much you sorely wished that were you on the bed. Surely no girl had resorted to porn out of pure horny desire before, right? 

After a while of letting her gasp and moan under his tongue, Spencer's fingers curled inside the other woman as well. The director called cut, and he kept his fingers there, even as they walked him through the next few shots, and instructed him to unzip his pants in the next few clips. 

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself as the cameras started rolling again, and he did finally free himself from his tight khakis. 

You knew you'd probably sign up for whatever was on offer at this company next to see that gift again. Spencer wasn't an impressive size or girth, nothing so alien or out of the ordinary that it only belonged in porn. It was just that his cock looked so… pretty. 

He was an inch or two longer than any man you'd ever been with, you were sure, but his cock seemed to have an air of dignity about it. 

You had to stop yourself at that thought. Dignity? Really? You were working part-time on a porn set, and there was suddenly dignity involved? 

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to find your earlier unbothered attitude. But with his cock in his hands and his face slick with female arousal, you really couldn't bring yourself to think about anything less than his fingers roughly finger-fucking you. 

You tried to close your eyes to it, to be blind, but the wet, sticky sounds only distracted you  and you found yourself soon swaying, swaying, swaying until you had to catch yourself before the camera dropped. 

With a shout of “yes, baby, yes,” the female star came on his face, sending up a furret of fluids as he just kept diligently stroking his cock, only stopping at the director's final yell of “CUT.”

“Perfect guys, let's get her up and drinking water again. You need to stay hydrated after all that,” he joked, a PA walking over to pass the actress a robe and a bottle of water as she walked off set. 

You relaxed for a second, trying to find your quickest route out of the room so you wouldn't have to drool over the man's cock so obviously any more. 

“FLUFFER? Where's the fluffer?” The director yelled, looking around for someone who obviously wasn't there yet. 

“Well?”

Still, no one arrived to do whatever job they needed doing, and you felt desperate for escape. 

“New girl, would you mind?” Some crew member called out from the sidelines, nodding at you. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, hoping that whatever job you agreed to would get you far enough from this room and the heat between your legs as possible. You were not a prude, and you would not bolt from your very first film shoot. 

“Great, get on the bed and keep the boy company,” the director said before exiting the room. 

You were absolutely on board with becoming a prude and bolting the scene as fast as your legs could carry you. Unfortunately, eight people still sat around, monitoring equipment and chatting on their breaks, and so you were forced to comply with the task. 

“We meet again,” you greeted the man stiffly as you found him on the bed, an apprehensive, tight smile on his own face.

“You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable, I can keep myself… occupied.” 

You noticed then that his hand was still wrapped around his cock, giving it slow strokes, not enough to tip him over the edge, but just enough to maintain the erection. 

“So the fluffer….?” 

“Prepares the actors for the next scene? I need to stay- let say in shape.” 

His face flushed crimson as your gaze slipped down to his cock in his hand. 

“So you want me to-” 

“NO. No, I usually only talk to the Fluffers. Look at them, you know?” 

You nodded and found yourself suddenly going still, watching his face contort with pleasure as his eyes raked over your chest and legs. 

You couldn't help but let your eyes dart south again, and fuck did you wish you hadn't. His spare hand fisted the sheets as he stroked himself gently, practically taunting himself with the light touch. 

“You do this often?” you asked, trying to pretend you were open to having a normal conversation even while your brain begged you to climb into his lap and sink down as fast as you could. 

“You mean maaturbate or the porn thing?” 

“Porn.” 

“No. No, I come in for a shoot every few months. One of these shoots tends to fund another semester of my PhD, so-” 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were impressed by that admission, but your predominate thought was still “shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

“That's impressive,” you said, only catching your words as they tripped out of your mouth. “THE PHD! The PhD, I mean not your… penis? Not that it isn’t appealing, or- or-.” 

You tried your hardest to use the most clinical word you could, distancing yourself from the honeyed words you so wanted to drop in his ear to get him to crawl further up the bed and entice him to make his own scene with you. 

“Thank you. It's my third,” he said, slightly more relaxed now that you were the flustered one. 

“PhD that is. Not cock. I only have one of these.” 

“One is enough,” you say, unable to stop the words tumbling out as your eyes again find themselves following each pump of his hand up and down his cock. Inwardly, you curse your friend for starting up her stupid business and paying you to simply exist in the same hemisphere as this man without being able to ride him. 

“Do you want to touch it?” He asked, blurting the words out suddenly. As if God had answered your prayers, your heart leapt up into your throat, your pussy clenching around nothing as you shifted your hips closer to him. 

You'd thought then that you'd quite enjoy bouncing on that thing yourself, but a handshake would have to do.

“So you have to stay hard, but-” 

“But it's best I don't cum, yeah.”

“Okay. Noted.”

Slowly, you reached out a hand and gently wrapped each finger around the tip of his cock. He released himself and wrapped his now free hand around yours, setting the pace for you quickly as he engaged you in conversation again. 

“So, where are you from?” He asked, as inept at small talk as you felt in that second. 

You answered him without a fuss and returned the question. Las Vegas. That seemed to check out with how easily he'd broken into porn. There was always something happening in that city. 

"How'd you get into the business?"

"Well, Vegas, you know. A producer saw a group of... street ladies offer me a freebie and gave me his card."

You went back and forth on questions like that for a few minutes before you noticed he was coughing every few seconds to mask moans and groans, evidently too into this to request you stop. 

“Is it okay to…Can I touch you?” He asked, sounding very afraid of rejection at that second. 

“Oh, um, yes. That'd only be fair, right?” 

He ran a hand up your waist to the curve of your breast and pressed his fingers into one, digging into the skin as though it were a pillow, and he was testing it before he fell head first into it. 

Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though. 

Temporarily, you let go of him, popping the front buttons of your blouse until he could freely see all of your black and red bra, and feast on the tops of your dusty nipples, peaking out just above each cup.

You heard him inhale sharply, even as he tried to hide it, but you didn't care, too transfixed on the precum decorating his tip. 

“Would you mind-” You started, but cut yourself off quickly, biting your lower lip. 

“Mind?” 

“Can I suck it?”

You didn't know where it came from because there were probably half a dozen other people still in the room, and mostly men. But dear god, he looked delicious, and you wanted just a little sample. 

“Fuck yes,” he said, finally giving in and letting out a whole gust of breath as he slumped down a bit further, no longer holding himself rigid. “No, no, actually, please do. I'm begging, I'll beg-” 

You cut him off by pushing yourself to your knees and crawling in between his, and seconds later, you were licking the length of his cock from the base of his balls all the way to that precious drop of precum. 

Hard, but no cumming. You could do that. You'd never done it before, preferring to fully pleasure sexual partners any chance you got, but there was no time like the present to start learning. 

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around his tip and sank down, taking one inch, then another, and then another. When you reached the base of his cock, you pushed that little bit further down, calming yourself and going slowly so you didn't gag, nose pushing into his neat public hair before pulling away just as slowly and doing it again. 

You took him as deep down your throat as you could manage, and suddenly, it was like everything that kept your conversation casual and civil earlier had flown out the door. He threw his head back, fisted his hand in your hair, and moaned deep. 

The sound shook you so much you almost pushed a hand into your own underwear and started fucking yourself, needing to prepare yourself for him like a good girl. 

Around you, you could hear signs of the shoot starting back up again, people finding their places, still all but ignoring you deep-throating a porn star. 

Spencer's breaths grew more rapid as you sucked him, hips becoming restless as he tried to lift up into your mouth, hand in your hair tightening as you realised your mistake. 

You pulled off his cock and grasped it again, stroking it slowly, but it was too late. With a sharp moan and a twitch of his hips, Spencer so prettily decorated your chin and chest. His cum dripped down your face, hitting your cleavage and pushing further down to stain your nice black laced underwear white.

“Fuck! Sorry, I wasn't meant to do that, let me get some - Can I get a towel please? A baby wipe? Some tissue, anything?” His voice was panicked, but his hand on your head relaxed, and he brushed your hair gently behind your ear, as if comforting you. 

He was panicked, for sure, but the crew calmly handed him everything he needed, as if they'd been in anticipation of just this thing happening. You supposed they probably were, this being a porn set. You were sure you were supposed to clean yourself up, but instead, he grabbed a wet tissue, leaving the pack just out of your reach.

He managed to clean your face off a bit before the director returned to the room with a laugh. Running a hand through his hair and messing it up slightly, the director turned back to you.

“We're five minutes out from shoot time,” he said, shaking his head. You started to apologise, but he stopped you with a hand. 

“New girl, work whatever magic you just did and get him hard again. Five minutes.” 

“W-What?” You spluttered, trying your best to rise from your knees, but ultimately failing. You were either stiff from the position or just weak with arousal. 

“He just came, I don't think I can-”

“10 pictures I've done with that kid, and I haven't seen him cum that quickly ever before in my life. And certainly not just for some kitten licks. Do it.”

You turned back to Spencer, his cum still trickling down your chest, creating an almost uncomfortable stiffness as it dried up. 

“Pleasure working with you?” You said, not-so-secretly ecstatic that you got to sample him once more. 

“I'll be in your care,” he replied, as you begin softly kissing the head of his cock again, tipping his head back again and losing himself in the pleasure or your tongue.

[sagesbard]

Actor au! My love 💟

Reader is a camera worker afab for the NSFW parts. Oh yeah NSFW MINORS DNI

Captain Curly 🎉

He met you on the first day of set. You were messing with a camera tripod that wasn't working properly. Muttering swears as you look at the metal contraption.

You were too busy trying to figure out the stupid camera to notice the man looking at you.

As shooting went on there was a day the director wasn't there. The producer stepped up, only issue was the producer was an asshole. It was a student film anyways.

As they shot a scene you realize one of the actors was going too far near the road during a flashback scene.

You automatically shot up behind the camera. Meanwhile the producer was too busy flirting with another person.

"Cut! Cut you dumbasses." You shout, setting down your headphones as you run from behind the camera. "Fucking stop Jim!" You yelled as Jimmy and Daisuke looked at you confused, stopping in their tracks.

"The fuck Y/N!?" The producer shouted once he realized what had happened.

"Are you fucking stupid!?" You yelled, finally snapping at the guy in front of you. "They were way too close to the fucking road you know cars just speed through here. You say as if on cue a car speeds past them.

"Yeah yeah, know your God damn place camera girl." The producer sneered. Curly then walked up.

"Calm down Daniel, she was just looking out for the crew, you obviously weren't." Curly said, defending his coworker.

"Watch it Grant, I can have your ass fired if I wanted to." Daniel said, crossing his arms as if he won.

"I'm sure Vivian would love to hear that you fired her only actor that knows what he's doing. No offense guys" Curly says. Turning towards his costars for a moment.

"none taken" Daisuke says. He took the job out of boredom. Jimmy took the job after you begged him for a week straight. And Swansea took it because Daisuke offered him up.

Curly volunteered for the job because he thought you were cute and wanted to spend more time with you.

Daniel scoffed and walked away. Muttering something about the two of you.

Curly laughed as the other man walked off.

Ever since then the two of you got closer.

After shooting wrapped up he asked you out.

Curly was nervous before your first date.

He took you out to a movie.

You ended up talking through a majority of it, ranting about the different shots and how they did the practical effects.

He loved listening to you the spark you had for film.

One date because two, then three, then before you two knew it he was asking you to move in with him.

Of course you said yes, you two got an apartment your last year of college.

NSFW

The first time you hooked up it was after the cast and crew party after wrap up.

The two of you were wasted and one thing led to another.

Even drunk he was still so sweet with you. He tasted like whiskey and citrus.

The way his hips moved against yours in a dance of fiery passion.

The morning after you expected him to be gone. But actually you woke up to the smell of coffee.

Curly leaned against the doorway, a mug in his hand as he greeted you. "Morning doll." He said, kissing your forehead.

That was when you realized that he was someone you wanted, no *needed* in your life.

Afterwards sex with him was always sweet.

A service top 100%

One day he needed to blow off steam and of course being the amazing girlfriend you are, you offered to help.

You couldn't walk the next day.

Daisuke🌺

Like I said he picked it up because he was bored.

He saw you fighting with the camera and fell in love.

The way you excitedly ranted about the inner workings of your favorite films.

He asked you out not too long during shooting.

He took you to an arcade.

He did his best to win you one of the crappy stuffed animals from the claw machine.

He spent all his tokens but on the last go he won you a little dog plushie. You still keep it on your bed to this day.

NSFW

A switch leaning towards bottom.

He's not normally submissive but he's inexperienced. So he wants you to be in control so you can feel good.

When he is top though hes a little rough with it. Panting and whining like a dog while he thrusts into you non stop.

Probably has a power play kink (I forgot what it was called) but you're the one that has most of the power.

Let him call you ma'am and he goes all night.

Same with you praising him.

Anya

She was originally in tech with you. She worked on lights until the original actress quit the project due to the producer being an asshole.

The director knew she'd do amazing at the role and set her up with an audition. Of course she knocked it out of the park.

You supported her from behind the scenes.

You were the one to ask her out.

You two went to the park and had a picnic.

Soon you two graduated from college and life went on. You moved in together and got a cat, Anya getting a job as a nurse and you working your way up to a director.

I can't really think of any NSFW ideas for Anya rn if anyone has any idea pls share :)

Jimmy.(He's not a rapist in this AU I don't condone any of his actions as a victim of SA and rape)

You had to convince him to audition.

You were friends since highschool and believe it or not he did theatre.

You saw the way he looked with the spotlight on his face, like it was his only home.

So when you were starting a new project you BEGGED him to audition.

He was hesitant, he hadn't acted in a while so he was a bit rusty.

He walked out of the audition room nervously.

By the time the cast list was out he ran up to you, excitedly holding the paper of acceptance as he hugged you tightly.

You two both carpooled there, sometimes you drove sometimes he drove. You always got coffee before even if y'all were late.

When he asked you out it was at the cast and crew after party.

He took you to an off-Broadway play. He wasn't a fan of musicals. He still has some song in his playlist though.

Afterwards you went on more dates then you two moved in together.

NSFW

He tries to be gentle he truly does.

But when he's in the moment he can't help but slam his hips against yours and bite a little too harshly.

He immediately apologizes after though and give THE BEST aftercare in the whole world.

He 100% whimpers when he's close.

He also goes kinda braindead when he cums. Mumbling stuff like "fuck I love you" or yes over and over again. You live for the desperation in his voice every time he's close.

Anyways guys- lmk how you feel about the actor au? I love it sm because there's little room for angst because it feels like everyone gets a happy ending 😁 also for the producer and the director I used a random name generator y'all can change it if u want <3

[santaasi]

the girl behind the lens

She was the kind of girl who knew the world would fall in love with her — and still only cared if he was watching.

★ MUSE!READER who takes polaroids on set. not of herself, but of the crew, James’s coffee left on a monitor, moments between takes. she keeps them tucked in her bag like lucky charms.

★ MUSE!READER who secretly rewatches their earliest films. even the ones that never made it out of university. sometimes she mouths along to his direction. he never knew how much she listened.

★ MUSE!READER who wears rings like armor. at least one is always James’s —a wrap gift from their first indie project. she never acknowledged keeping it, and he never asked.

★ MUSE!READER who keeps the scripts James writes for her. marked with dog-eared corners, scribbled notes, and ink-smudged hearts in the margins — but she'd deny it if you asked.

★ MUSE!READER who’s a little moody before shoots. she doesn’t like talking in the makeup chair. she chews her lip while reading sides, tugs her sleeves over her knuckles, needs silence to focus. but the moment the camera rolls, it’s like something divine clicks into place.

★ MUSE!READER who doesn't wear perfume on set, but James always knows when she’s been in a room. something about the air changes. like a page being turned.

★ MUSE!READER who smells like cinnamon and old books. costume designers try to bottle it. James once wrote it into a script: “she smelled like autumn nostalgia and things he didn’t have the language for.”

★ MUSE!READER who has a thousand expressions, but James’s favorite is the one she makes when she’s pretending not to be jealous. slight tilt of the head. a fake yawn. sharp, sarcastic sweetness that covers up something bruised and tender underneath.

★ MUSE!READER who’s always cold. she keeps a rotation of oversized sweaters on set — most of them not hers. one of them still smells like the first short film they shot together, all student-brewed coffee and dusty theatre curtains.

★ MUSE!READER whose email signature is blank. but every message to James ends with “—your problem” or “—your muse (temporarily).” Sometimes she adds a little black cat emoji.

★ MUSE!READER who reads fan theories late at night, curled in bed with her phone dimmed low. she never comments. but sometimes she smiles.

★ MUSE!READER whose mom used to tell her she was made for the stage, but she always liked the camera better. on stage, you're big. on screen, you're bare.

★ the first time MUSE!READER realised she was falling for FILM DIRECTOR!JAMES, it wasn’t during a scene or a late-night edit. It was when he fixed her necklace before a take, hands shaking just a little.

masterlist // muse script

[jazziejax]

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- Pilot Episode Experience with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren’t warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie’sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I’ve been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I’m contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won’t be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 6,358

“Okay, so you wouldn't put the number on the bottom because that's what?” The older woman asked, drawing out her words as she stood in front of her fourth-grade class, pointing at the whiteboard behind her with her yardstick.

“The denominator.” The class answered.

“Correct, and what do we call the one on top?”

“The numerator.”

“Yes! You guys are killing this lesson.” She smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. She caught the camera crew in the corner of her eyes and then turned to them. “Or should I say I’m killing this lesson?” She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she posed. It was silent for a moment as they all watched her just smile.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” She’s asked, looking at one of the guys behind the camera. He nodded, moving the camera along with him, causing her to smile and adjust her glasses. “Why, thank you.”

“Hello! My name is Naoya Lovel. Pronounced Now-Ya, it’s Japanese because I’m half Japanese. Don’t ask why I’m half Japanese in Philly, it’s a long story.” She sighed as she shook her head.

“Well, actually, let me tell you the story because it’s actually kind of crazy.” She chuckled, starting to explain, but it then cut to another clip of her in the class.

“Ms.Lovel, we ran out of paper towels.” A student said, standing in front of her desk with paint on the palms of his hands. Noaya looked up, at him, a slight frown on her face. “Ohh, okay, well I have some in my desk.” She started, pulling open her desk drawer. The camera angled down to catch the empty towel box staring back at her. She smirked up at them awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders. “What, I have a constant runny nose.”

“As a teacher, you teach kids how to solve problems while solving your own. In your personal life and at school. And in this school, there are a lot.”

“Ms.Lovel, I need paper towels too.” Another student said, showing her blue and pink palms to her teacher. Noaya then stood from her seat, looking around her room. “Okay, okay class. Give me one sec.” She said, nervously looking around her room to solve her paper towel problem. She the. Saw a stray beach towel near the window on her small bookshelf. “Oh! Here we are, guys.” She said, rushing over to the towel and snatching it up.

“This could be a lesson too.” She smiled excitedly and grabbed a pair of large scissors from her desk. “I probably shouldn’t have these just sitting out.” She mumbled to herself, giving the camera a sideways glance. “So class, this is going to be a hands-on moment. If there are almost thirty of you, how many pieces would I need to cut this into for you guys to share?” She asked, looking at all of them. There was a moment before anyone said anything, the kids thinking over their answer. Then, some of their hands shot up. Naoya flashed the cameras behind her a quick smile before turning back to the kids.

“Noaya, Jacob, and I came in last year with 20 other teachers. We’re three of the four left so…trauma bonding, I guess?” Janine said, in regards to the other girl.

“Yeah, I taught for two years before I got here, I transferred from Addington to here because those people are a bunch of stuck-up freaks who are just in it for a little extra on their check.” She said with a smirk. “And that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to change lives.” She boated, folding her arms.



“Hey, Melissa, can you please tell “Ta-Nehisi Quotes” here that “white boy” is a term of endearment from the corner store people?” Janie said as she walked into the break room on the second floor.

“Ooh, cheese steaks?” Naoya questioned as she looked up from her papers, knowing the full situation after only hearing the words ‘white boy’ and ‘corner store’.”

“For Zach Ertz, yeah.” Melissa started, turning around with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “For him. It’s an insult.” She smirked, then paused at the sight of the cameras in her face.

“Well, you guys, I need a new rug. Mine is officially done.” Janie said.” Coming take a seat right next to the working woman.

“Mhmm! Me too.” Jacob started, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I shook mine out and all the asthma kids had to go to the nurse's office.” This conversation caused her to raise her head, placing her work aside and adjusting her glasses as she listened.

“Yeah, mine’s busted.” Melissa started. “And you can’t class up a rug like you can a couch with a nice coat of plastic.”

“You guys have rugs? All we have is a little mat.” Naoya started, looking between all of them. They all cringed at her words, but couldn’t say more before someone’s loud voice cut through the air.

“Hey-yo! What it does, baby-boo?” Ava yelled as she walked into the break room and over to where they were sitting. “What yall think about this little film crew I bought in here.”

“Distracting makes our jobs harder,” Melissa said disinterestedly, shooting the crew a glare.

“I wish I would have known this was going to be a video thing, I would have made myself look better,” Naoya mumbled, causing the camera to turn her way. She smiled, making her face appear happier than usual.

“But exciting. We about to be on TV.” Ava said, looking between them all.

“Because they are covering underfunded, loosely managed, public schools in America.” Barbra interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No press is bad press, Barb.” Ava practically disregarded the woman’s claim, continuing to smile at the camera. “Look at Mel Gibson. Still thriving.” She laughed. “ “Daddy’s Home 2”? Hilarious!” She looked around the room, either expecting people to laugh with or or just so confined in her large ego that she didn’t care if they laughed or not.

“Ava’s the worst person I know,” Noaya stated. “I’ve never seen her show an ounce of care about anything other than money. Which is a terrible mindset to have as a principal because you’re literally in the brokeest position of power.”

“There you are.” Ms.Schwartz sighed as she rushed into the room, spotting Ava. “Ava, can I talk to you?” The woman was out of breath as she stood before the principal, and her attire was disheveled. “I-I need an aid. I’m outnumbered there. The kids are crazy.” She ranted this wild look in her eyes. “One of the kids told me to ‘mind my six’ this morning, I don’t know what that means! I need help!” She ranted. Ava placed and hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down.” The darker woman said, cutting Ms. Schwartz off. “They’re just kids. And, besides, aids cost money, and we don’t have that.” She said before flashing a quick smile at the cameras. “Right, but I just—” Ms. Schwartz started again.

“Do you want to split your salary with somebody else?” Ava asked, leaning closer and angling both of them away from the cameras.

“No.” The other woman said dejected.

“No!” Ava cut her off before she could continue to rant. “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Well, if we can’t get aides, maybe we can get new rugs?” Janine chimed up, standing from her seat.

“All I’m hearing is “new, new, new, need, need, need,” Ava answered. “And yet, Barb, one of our best and most senior teachers here.” She continued, walking over to the older woman who sat at the table with Melissa and drank her coffee. “She never complains. What is your secret, Barb?”

“Knowing there’s not much you can do, Ava.” The woman said with a sarcastic smile. But Ava didn’t care to hear her condescending tone.

“So understanding.” The principal smiled, looking around the room. “Be like Ms.Howard, people.” That was all she said before she left the room.

Noaya shook her head as she started to collect her things, knowing the bell would be ringing anytime soon.

“But, I’m not Ms.Howard.” Ms.Schwartz cried from where she stood.

“Ohh, Tina, look.” Janine started, walking over to the stressed woman. “Try some counting exercises, between one and forty the kids start to quiet down.” The other woman gave a slight nod before she exited the room, still in obvious distress. “You, know, a little support might help make things happen, ladies,” Janie said, turning around to face the older two women in the room.

“My support was gonna do about as much as that five-year-old bra you’ve got on right there,” Barbra said as she pushed in her chair. The camera then cuts to Naoya staring at the camera, her jaw clenched. Janine looked down at her chest for a slip second, before covering it up with her sweater and deciding to ignore the woman’s bra statement. “Hey, it’s not impossible to get things. Melissa asked for those new toy cash registers for her classroom and got them.”

“Yeah, those aren’t toys.” The Italian woman stared as she put on her coat. “I know a guy who wired a Walmart demolition. I got a guy for everything. I know a guy right now working on the stadium build. Need rebar?” She asked, looking around the room.

Noya just shook her head.

“No,” Janine answered.

“Melissa is resourceful, capable.” Ms. Howard started, looking between all the younger teachers. Naoya’shead jerked back at what she was insinuating but before she could say anything, Janine placed a hand on her shoulder and started talking.

“Well, I think the younger teachers are capable.”

“Really? Then why is it that Ms.Schwartz’s hair is falling out? Why does Jacob here need a smoking break every five minutes?” The woman sassed, gesturing over to the male beside her.

“I switched to an herbal vape.” He tried to defend himself.

“And why can’t any of you stick it out longer than two years? More turnovers than a bakery.” She hissed before her and Melissa walked out of the door. Once it shut behind them, Naoya turned to her friends beside her.

“I almost lose my job every day dealing with the people here.” She shook her head, resting her butt on the table behind her, the other two following suit.

“You know what? Hell, I think we should still try for rugs.” Jacob’s said.

“Yeah.” Janine agreed.

“You know, before I taught here, I was in Zimbabwe.” Jacob started, causing Noaya to stand up completely and begin to walk to the door. “I was going Teachers Without Boarders, and what I learned—.”

“Jacob.” Noaya cut in, turning to face the two of them. “What did we say you about, like, not talking about your time in Africa?” She said, gesturing between her and Janine. The boy stuttered, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.

“We told you to stop. Yeah, it’s weird.” Janine finished, looking over at the male.

“I have an immense amount of respect for my elders, including the ones I work with.” Naoya smiled at the cameras. “But Mrs.Howard has a smart mouth on her. A mouth that has never been directed at me.” She continued to smile, although strained, and raised her hands in mock defense. “But the day it is the day I got to prison.” And although she was finished, she was cut off by the sound of quick hurried footsteps making their way around the corner. She turned around just in time to catch Janine with a student.

“Noaya, come quick, there’s a fight.” The older woman got out as best as she could, although out of breath. Naoya ran around the corner, practically leaving the child and shirt woman in the dust.

“Damn, she’s fast,” Janine said, briefing glancing at the kids next to her before rushing to follow the running woman.

“What the hell is going on here?” Naoya yelled as she entered the hectic scene with a bat in her hands. She saw the crazed look the teachers were giving her and she shrugged. “I heard there was a fight, I brought it just in case.”

“Where did you get that? I was right behind you.” Janie asked, out of breath with her hands on her knees.

“I didn’t know she had it in her like that.” Melissa nodded a proud smirk on her lips. “I like her.”

“That’s beside the point, what happened?” Naoya asked, looking at the older white woman standing in front of a child. “He hit me first!” Ms.Schwartz said, pointing at the boy across from her.

“Liar!” The boy yelled back at her, being held back by Ms.Howard.

“I’m a liar? I'M A LIAR?” Ms.Schwartz asked a crazed look in her eyes, her gaze solely trained on the little boy.

“I can’t believe she hit a kid,” Noaya said, shock written all over her face as she folded her arms. “I mean, I threaten that I will but I never actually do it.” She shrugged.

“Okay!” Ava yelled, interrupting the conversation between the small group of teachers. “So, not good. Ms.Schwartz was out of line and clearly didn’t know how to handle her class.” The woman sighed.

“You hired her.” Melissa spat back.

“And fired her,” Ava responded. “They give me a lot of power around here. It’s crazy.” The woman smirked.

Melissa and Noaya both gave the camera a look of disbelief.

“In the meantime, Mr.Johnson will be watching her class.” Ava finished.

“Mr.Johnson the janitor?” Naoya spoke up. “Our conspiracy theorist janitor? Teaching social studies? Do we not see the problem with this?” She asked, looking around at the group.

“I think maybe we should alert the school district to this,” Jacob spoke up, getting spins of approval from the rest. “I mean, a child was harmed.” He tried to finish before Ava cut in.

“Hey! Harmed?” She questioned. “I handled this. No need to let them know that a child was harmed on my wa—” She stopped, remembering that she was being recorded, and looked towards the camera. “On the school's watch, to be clear.” She clarified.

“Ava, this is not handled,” Janine spoke up. “There is a 70-year-old custodian who voted for Kanye teaching social studies right now.” The woman stressed, pointing down the hall. “We need help. Look, I know we don’t have any money—“

“Okay!” Ava cut her off. “Alright. I’ll make a small emergency budget request to the district, and then you guys can get pencils and hire aides or whatever else you need.”

“So, even rugs?” Janine asked her entire demeanor from earlier changing at the woman’s words.

“Sure! Just email a request.” Ava replied.

“Okay! I can- I can write an email.” Janine smiled excitedly.”

“Another day in principal life.” Ava smiled at the cameras before walking away, horribly singing some old song. “I believe the children are our future.”

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

“Um…Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out as she came into the school building, making their way to stand in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Ms.Coleman.” The man said. Melissa looked up at him. “Oh, yeah she’s—“ She was cut off by Ava rushing up next to her.

“Hello.” Again said flirtatiously, looking the man up and down.

“Hi, I’m Gregory Eddie. I’m the sun for the teacher who, uh…” He trailed off, looking down at the papers he pulled from his briefcase. “Pinter a student.” The man said worriedly, looking back up at her.

“Oh! You’re the sub.” Ava said. “Forgive me, I thought one of my colleagues here hired a stripper for me.” Ava laughed off, dismissing the looks Melissa and Barbra gave her. “Okay.” That was all Gregory could say to that, giving the woman obvious judgmental looks.

“Nice to meet you, young man.” Barbra offered him a kind smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Ryan,” Melissa said, staring at the together papers.

“It’s Gregory.”

“Eh, let’s see how long you’ll be here.” She said, only flexing up after she was done stapling. “Then I’ll remember your name. Okay, Tim?”

Gregory didn’t even have time to fully digest the interactions he just had with the women before him before Jacob came around the corner. “Yes!” He smiled, stalking up to the man. “My dude.” He said, arms open for some sort of hug but was cut short by Gregory putting his hand out. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob said, placing his hand on the one offered out to him. “Keeping it profesh. I like that.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “I’m Jacob. It’s nice to see another male teacher in here. It’s not a lot of us. Hey, now I got somebody to talk sports with. You like women’s tennis?” The paler man asked, before shooting the camera a sideways glance. “Or, as I call it, you know, regular tennis.”

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Naoya was walking the halls, whistling a tune with her bad over her shoulders when she came across a tall, good-looking man in a gray sweater. Hearing her, the man turned around to see a tall, light-skinned woman with a large, light brown puff ponytail at the back of her head. She had on specs that covered most of her face, enlarging her eyes. She was dressed in a slightly baggy pair of dark wash denim jeans with brown shoes that matched the brown in her green sweater, paired with a white shirt underneath. Seeing the mysterious man, she furrowed her brows at him from down the hall.

“Uh, hello.” The man waved awkwardly from down the hall.

Naoya waved back as she made her way closer to the man. “Uh, hi. Are you lost?” She asked, slowing down when she got in front of him. “In a school building?…And smelling like pee and/or vomit. I’m calling security.” She started to back up and pull out her phone, or even yell before she stopped and frowned. “Oh wait, I am security.” She said, moving her bat to her good hand getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” The man yelled, sticking out his hands in defense. “I’m a sub! I’m here to fill in for the woman who kicked the kid.” He defended.

Naoya visibly relaxed as she looked the man up and down, taking in his formal attire. “Okay.” She said, dropping her defensive pose. “That still doesn’t explain the smell.” She said, giving the man a disgusted once over. Gregory stuttered to get an answer, embarrassed by the cameras and such an awkward situation in front of another beautiful woman.

“It’s a long story. A broken toilet, a student wet his pants, another one threw up.” The man shrugged, a look of disgust crossing his face as he thought it all over. At his words, Noaya nodded with a look of understanding.

“No, yeah. I get it. Well, um, congratulations on being here considering…” She trailed off, gesturing around the school and then to him. “If you need anything at all, I’m at the very end of the hall. I'm Naoya Lovel, and I teach fourth grade. I’ll be here to help any way I can, I am known for having everything anyone might ever need, so.” She shrugged and began walking away, pat him, and to her class. The man nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on the spot she just left. Catching the camera out of the corner of his eye, she quickly straightened up and then turned the opposite way to face her. “May I ask why you’re carrying a bat?” He asked.

Naoya stopped walking, the bad still in her hand as she angled her body slightly to look back at him. “No, you may not.” She said with a smile before continuing to walk away and into her classroom. Gregory just nodded and walked into his room as well.

“Today was utterly disgusting, but she and Janine seem nice.” He smiled slightly.

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“I got a good feeling about this,” Jacob smirked at Naoya and Janine as they and the rest of the teachers gathered outside at the entrance of the school. It had something to do with Ava needing them to see the improvements she made to the school. “Right? Me too!” Janine said excitedly. Naoya rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets due to the cold weather.

“I wish I could live in the blissful ignorance you guys call optimism.” She said, looking between her two friends. They only rolled their eyes at the girl, who was usually a pessimistic person, so they didn’t take her words too seriously.

“Good morning!” Ava said to all the teachers before her, who were obviously in no good mood. “Good Morning!” Janine was the only one to respond.

“Gregory.” Ava finished, giving the man a look. Noaya furrowed her brows slightly, throwing the man a sideways glance.

“The district was so moved by my plea that they approved the emergency budget and sent us the money right away,” Ava said to the group. The crowd started clapping, Jacob and Janine were genuinely happy while most were in shock that the district pulled through.

“Okay, we could have hired aides, we could have got rugs.” Ava continued as the clapping died down. “But then I thought, “No. We need something more immediate.” She said, her words causing Naoya to nod her head as she began slowly making her way away from the group. She knew this wasn’t going to end well, and this was her stopping herself from throwing her loafers at Ava’s head.

“Oh, no, no. The rugs are immediate.” Janie spoke up. “They’re like instant Xanax for kids. I explained it all in my email.” She told the group as she made her way to extract her phone from her purse.

“Girl, who told you to send an email?” Ava asked, looking down the steps at the shorter woman. Jannie stopped what she was doing and glared at Ava. “You did.” She hissed, looking at her confused.

“Anyways, I always feel better when I get my hair done.” Ava continued, not caring for what Janine had to say, as she showed off her new blonde number. “Thus, I do better work, like I’m doing now.” She smiled at them. “You know, fix the outside, the inside takes care of itself.” She then gestured up to the giant tarp over the building, the man pulling it down to show a sign.

It was a giant Willard R. Abbott Elementary sign with Ava on it, leaning onto the letters. The teachers just stood there and looked up at the sign, no words were said between any of them. But they all had the same thought.

What the fuck?

“Yall seeing this?” Ava asked, copying her pose that was on the sign.

“A plastic sign?” Janine asked, looking between the woman and the sign.

“Thank God for the school district, because they gave us $3,000 and I had to spend all of it.” Ava said as if she didn’t care about the severity of the words she just said.

“You spent all of the money on this?!” Janie asked in disbelief.

“Rush job, can you believe this quality?” The terrible principal continued.

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“This is fucking ridiculous, she has gone too far,” Naoya said as she, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory rushed back into the school.

“Somebody needs to do something before I get my bat back out. Actually, Forget the bat, I’m gonna go get a gu—.”

“Okay! Yes.” Jacob cut her off, trying to ignore the scared look Noaya received from Janine and Gregory, while she just continued to sit in her anger, not even seeing them. “Somebody, anybody but you, should do something.” The man said to the angry woman.

“You know what. I’m gonna do something.” Janine said, as stored up and Naoya. Well, maybe not as much but still fired up.

“Okay, alright. Whatever you do, I will co-sign it.” Jacob encouraged. “Yes!” Janine said. “That is how change works. Someone does something and somebody co-signs it.” He finished.

“I want Jannie to succeed in what her plan is because Ava needs to be out in her place, “professionally”, or whatever Jacob said,” Naoya stated, rolling her eyes. “But I also want her to prove something to Barb. For her sake. Because Janine really needs a mother figure in her life and the constant groveling for Barb’s praise is starting to make me want to choke.” She finished with a shrug. “That’s my girl though, I love her.”

“Hey, you two, wait up! I’m going out to lunch too.” Janie called out to Melissa and Bard as they walked down the hall. The camera caught Naoya, who rolled her eyes at the situation she was just talking about making an appearance as she walked after Janine.

“Oh yeah, where are you going for lunch pip-squeak? Bird feeder?” Melissa joked, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d be working on your next miracle from Saint Ava.” Barbra pushed.

“Ha ha, No.” The shorter woman defended herself. “I don’t think I’ll need anything from Ava ever again.” Janine smiled, her words causing the other three women to look confused.

“What does that mean?” Naoya chimed in from behind them, ready to go out for lunch as well.

“Well, I emailed the superintendent and told him everything Ava has done today. No way she doesn’t get fired.” Janie bragged.

“Oh, for the lives of God.” Melissa groaned.

“Janine,” Noaya said in disappointment. “This is why I told you to tell me.”

“What?” She asked, looking between the three women.

“The superintendent never sees our emails,” Barbra told her. “He has them bounced back to the person in charge of where they came from.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Janie stared. “Person in charge? That means the emails go back to…” She trailed off, the dots connecting. Just in time for said person to come in the intercom with an announcement.

“Teachers, it’s come to my attention that some of you—one of you—.” Ava clarified, looking through the glass of her office at the group of women standing at the door, her eyes trained on one in particular. “Think it’s okay to go over my head. So, during lunch break—this lunch break—we’ll be having a trait workshop so that we can learn how to become a woke family.” The woman was clearly pissed off, glaring at Janine from where she sat. “It’s gonna be fun!”

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“We are at a crossroads, this is a crisis,” Ava stressed as she stood before the hired group of teachers.

“No, a crisis is eating the cafeteria pizza for lunch.” Naoya chimed in from where she sat in the back.

“Uh, why are we here, exactly?” Gregory asked his seat right in front of hers.

“Well, chocolate drop.” Ava started, causing Naoya to snicker at the name. “I learned that someone here doesn’t respect me. But it’s not about me. Because if you don’t respect me, how can you respect this school?” She continued, causing them all to look at her confused as such a stupid correlation. But, it looks like Ava took that as a look of confusion due to her question.

“You can’t. It’s mathematically impossible.” She finished.

“W-Whoa. Who doesn’t respect you, Ava—I mean, the school?” Jacob asked.

“Me,” Naoya said but seemed to be completely ignored.

“It’s not important. We’re gonna make this a group matter so as too not to single any one person out.” The woman answered him. “Let’s try an excuse where we say whatever we want out loud to each other, no matter how critical. It’ll be fun, let’s start with Janine.” She said, looking over at the short woman who was practically shrinking in on herself.

“Janine?” She asked, smirking evilly.

“Yes?” Janine asked dejectedly, knowing that this whole situation was her fault and knowing that Ava did the exact thing she said she didn’t want to. Single her out.

“You’re pushy, squeaky and annoying,” Ava stated.

Collective disagreement was heated around the room.

“Excuse me?” Melissa piped up.

“Thaya just…” Gregory said.

“When is it my turn?” Naoya asked, starting to take her earring out of her ear.

“No, it’s not bad. No.” Ava defended. “We’re shaking to make us all better. Constructive. Hershey kiss, why don’t you try, start with Janine.” She pushed.

“I don’t want to.” The man sighed.

“You’re right, it should be someone who knows her better. Noaya, Jacob, Barbra?” She asked, looking between the two.

“When is it your turn? I wanna go when it’s your turn.” Naoya stated, folding her arms to keep herself at bay. Gregory glanced back, seeing the look of pure hatred on her face.

“Well, her hair is—“ Jacob started before getting cut off.

“Not!” Noaya and Barba said at the same time, the younger more so talking to her friend next to Janine, who gave the man next to her a look of disbelief.

“Ava, no one’s doing this to anyone.” Melissa started, looking at the woman before her.

“Hold on, I came prepared for this. Sheena, come on in.” Ava said, looking behind her to a student who was sitting behind the library desk.

“Ava, that is my student, she should be at lunch right now,” Janine complained, as everyone in the room looked at the little girl, trying to see what Ava's plan was.

“I am kinda hungry.” The little girl sighed, begrudgingly walking closer to the woman.

“Sheena, remember what we talked about? What was the thing that you wished was different about Ms.Teagues?” Ava asked the little girl. She just stood there, not knowing what to say as the whole room waited on her.

“She got some big feet.” Mr.Johnson chimed in from the very back of the children’s library where he was sweeping.

“Okay.” Janine sighed before standing from her seat. “Everyone, that’s enough. I am the person who disrespected Ava. I emailed the superintendent to tell him that she spent the school's money on a sign.”

“And got her hair done,” Naoya said, Janine, gesturing over to her in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” She continued. “And I’m sorry everyone missed lunch, especially you, Sheena. But I didn’t it because I care about the kids in this school, and that shouldn’t be a bad thing.” She ranted. “I—Okay. You know what.” She sighed, done talking. She felt as if no one was listening anyway and just wanted to leave. She was on her way out before turning back around. “Sheena, you should have this. I’m sorry.” She said, handing the school pizza over to the girl.

“Uh, no thank you.” The girl said, shaking her head. Janine just sighed again and turned to leave.

Ava chuckled as she watched the girl walk off, shaking her head. “Not a compelling speaker.” She smirked as she shook her head. “Charisma vacuum, am I right?”

Noaya cracked her neck as she stood up. The teachers in front of her filmed a little at the sound and her sudden movements. But she ignored that. “You know what, Ava? I was going to whoop your ass in the parking lot, and as much satisfaction as that would bring me, I don’t want to lose my job. Because I care about these kids. Just like Janine. And she may be a lot of things, like naive, a bit clingy and too cheerful—.”

“Ooh, this is good stuff, let me call her back in here,” Ava smirked as if she didn’t hear the first part of the girls’ speech.

“But she is also right.” Barba cut in, standing up with Naoya. “You know, actually wanting to help the children at this school shouldn’t be a bag thing.” The older woman finished for her. Afterwards, both her and Naoya walked out, letting Ava sit with their words.

They walked out to find the girl in front of her classroom, looking through the window. “Janine, ignore Ava. Big feet are a sign of fertility.” Barbra stated.

“I’m telling you to just give me the signal, I can have her framed for mur—something.” The light skinned girl said, catching herself in front of the cameras.

“Every lunch period, guys.” Was all Janine said before stepping out of their way to show the inside of her class. They both looked in seeing a little boy napping on his jacket, as the library door sounded again. “Every single one, Amir comes and naps in the rug.” She said, informing the whole group as Melissa, Jacob and Gregory joined.

“Mm-hmm. He was in my class.” Barbra said with a fond smile on her face. Mom’s got a lot of kids. Dad’s not around and when she is, the parents fight.”

“Right, so he doesn’t get much sleep. I told him to sleep at his desk, but she says that rug is softer—.” The shirt woman paused, trying to get emotional over the whole situation. “Softer than his bed at home.” There was a moment of silence as all the adults sat with her words. It’s hard hearing about the life of the kids you see everyday, knowing they live lives no one should. And knowing it’s on you to create a better life for them at school.

“You know what? I don’t care I you think I’m good at this or not anymore. I care about whether or not I can make a change.” Janine told Barbra as sternly as she could, which wasn’t a lot.

“Janine.” The woman started. “Teachers at a school like Abbott— we have to be able to do it all. We are admin, we are social workers, we are therapists, we are second parents. Hell, sometimes we’re even first.”

“Mm-hmm.” Melissa agreed.

“Why?” Barbra continued. “It sure ain’t the money.”

“Yup. I can make more working the street, easy.” Melissa chimed in. Causing Jacob and Naoya to look at each other in concern.

“Prostitution?” She mouthed over to the man, who shrugged.

“Look, we do this ‘cause we’re supposed to.” Melissa said to Janine. “It’s a calling. You answered.”

They all looked at eachother fondly, before Jacob started.

“I believe it was Brother Cornel West—“

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Not right now, white boy.”

They all told him, causing the man to retreat back to his corner.

“You want to know my secret?” Barbra asked, ringing the subject back to where it was. “Do everything you can for your kids.” She smiled. “We’ll help. Hey, I suggest we put our money together and buy Janine the rug.” The older woman encouraged. “What yall think?”

“Absolutely.” Melissa said, pulling out her wallet.

“Guys, you can’t.” Janine started, looking between them. “You don’t have it. I know because I have the same salary as you and I overdrafted on a doughnut hole this morning.”

“Don’t tell me how much money I have.” Noaya stated, holding her hand out as a halt to the girl's words. “I do not claim that broke energy.”

“Well, why are you gonna do?” Barbra asked. “Steal a rug?”

“Not me, but I know a guy who knows a guy?” Janie trailed off, looking between Noaya and Melissa. The light skinned girl raised her hands. “I don’t know a cute guy that can steal that many carpets that fast.” She shrugged, a hopeless look on her face as she glanced at Melissa.

“Way ahead of you.” The woman said as she started typing into her phone. “I’m gonna have to bake a ziti.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Tony, ya big strung, listen, you still working that stabiuk build?” She said into the device as she walked away from the group.

Sometime later, a guys pulled up in a truck around back with a bunch of rugs for them. They all celebrated, going one by one to grab a rug. “Yay! I finally have one! My room was so depressing.” Naoya said as she waked down the hall with her rug.

“You’re on a mission.” Gregory stated, looking at the shorter girl in between him and Noaya. “It’s cool to see.”

“Thank you. Just a day in the life of being a teacher here. You get used to it.” Janine smiled.

“And that smell in the walls?” He asked, pointing.

“Oh no, you’re never gonna get used to that. Sometimes I wish I had a bad nose like Naoya.” She joked, elbowing the girl next to her. The taller woman lightly groaned. “Janine, you know that’s a big insecurity of mine. I have a fear of smelling bad.” The half Japanese girl tried to clarify to the male. “You’re subbing to go full time right?” She asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Um, we’ll see.” He said as they all briefly stopped in the hallway. “This job definitely surprises me.”

“Well, I hope you stay.” Janine said. “For the kids.” She clarified. Naoya shot a quick glacé to the camera, a small smirk on her face. She then decided to walk away. The camera caught Gregory’s eyes jumping from both women walking away, a small smile on his face. He then looked in the camera and dropped his expression.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” He said. “You know, for the kids.”

“Look guys!” Naoya said as she rolled out her shakes rug for her students. They all celebrated, clapping excitedly at the fact that they had a rug now.

“Ms.Lovel, I hate the egales.” One student said, standing next to the woman.

“Yeah, me too, kid. But don’t tell anyone I said that.” She said, patting the top of their head as Ava walked past her door. She paused at the sight of the rugs. Naoya placed her hands on her hips and cocked her neck, making Ava glare at the woman for a quick second before walking away.

“And that kids, is how you get rid of the enemy without fighting.” She said, pointing around the room to make sure they were watching. “Now that we have a rug, let’s watch that nature documentary!” She said excitedly, causing all the students to yell with excitement well.

[jovialoddity]

A BIREF GUIDE & EXPLANATION ON MY MR. PUZZLES AUs!

I currently have three AUs for SMG4 (but predominantly Mr. Puzzles) that I post about on this blog. So here’s the rundown on them!

•••

🧩 PROFESSOR PUZZLES 🧩

This is a non-villain Mr. Puzzles AU where he works at a university as a film professor! None of the canon events happened in this AU: it’s just a goofy little college storyline that involves the SMG4 characters all going to the same university and taking Professor Puzzles’ class. He’s notoriously hated by the students, not because he’s a terrible person, but just because he’s insanely annoying.

All posts I make about Professor Puzzles are underneath #Professor Puzzles AU

+ link to his original post/reference sheet

•••

🧩 HUMAN MR. PUZZLES 🧩

This is exactly what it says on the tin: a universe where Mr. Puzzles never cut his head off! He’s still his same evil self, and most of the canon events still happened. The only difference is that he’s fully human instead of a TV-headed cyborg. This AU predominantly follows my own personal headcannons on Mr. Puzzles and his backstory, family life, ETC, and every headcanon I have for human Puzzles applies to canon Puzzles.

All posts I make about Human Puzzles are underneath #Jovi’s human Mr. Puzzles

+ link to his original post and his updated reference sheet

•••

🧩 “SMILE FOR THE CAMERA” (SLASHER PUZZLES/MISTER PUZZLES)🧩

This is a slasher film-inspired AU, where Mister Puzzles is an ordinary man who’s been planning a slasher film of his own… starring his least favorite TV stars, the SMG4 crew. He’s stalking them during their remote camping trip with an axe and a video camera, slaughtering them and filming them one-by-one.

This AU has its own blog, @smile-for-the-camera-smg4 where I post all of my art and writing related to this AU. If you have any questions about it, please direct it over to that blog!

All posts I make or reblog about this AU are underneath #smile for the camera SMG4 and #SMG4 slasher AU

+ link to the original info post and Mister Puzzles’ reference sheet

•••

MORE BOUNDARIES AND INFO UNDER THE CUT

•••

I have had some people ask, so I will say right now: You are ABSOLUTELY allowed to draw fanart of these AUs!! If you do, PLEASE TAG ME IN IT! I wanna reblog your post and go crazy in the tags!

I have some things I am and am not okay with regarding my AUs, but it varies for each one. Those are listed below:

✅ GO FOR IT:

Writing/drawing your OCs into either AUs, or writing/drawing your OCs interacting with my AU Puzzles’!! (IMPORTANT NOTE: in the Professor Puzzles AU, OCs will be considered SEMI-CANON, but in the Slasher AU OCs will be considered NON-CANON)

Selfshipping / OC x Canon with either version of Mr. Puzzles

Drawing your AU versions of Mr. Puzzles interacting with mine

Sending asks about the AUs!

❌ PLEASE DON’T:

Write or draw anything that has to do with incest, pedophilia, or rape into my AUs. If anybody does this, you will be blocked immediately.

Write or draw bigoted content of any description into my AUs

Write or draw teacher x student relationships into the Professor Puzzles AU (those dynamics make me extremely uncomfortable and I’d appreciate if they’re kept away from my AU. Student OCs having a one-sided crush on him is fine, but PLEASE keep it one-sided.)

Send any kind of fetish or explicitly NSFW asks about the AUs. Whatever floats your boat, but I really don’t want that kind of thing being said about my AUs. (Looking at you, Mr Puzzles diaper guy)

•••

That’s really all I can think of now. If you have any questions don’t be afraid to reach out! I don’t bite :)

Thank you for reading all of these and (hopefully) respecting my boundaries. Have a good rest of your day/night/whatever!

[wonryllis]

𝜗𝜚ㅤBABY YOU ARE MORE THAN JUST A DREAM! ( love at first sight with idol!reader )

────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅!

﹙NOTES.﹚ non!idol enha falling for you. 𖥔 ݁ fluff. reqtd. fem!r. 2569wc. LIB?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

the one who gets attracted to your light in the struggles of his life. a broke college student working multiple part time jobs to pay for his student loans. an avid listener of kpop who does not have much idea about groups, especially girl groups simply because of his busy life. it's one fateful afternoon when he's on his shift in everland dressed in his heavy bear mascot, barbequing inside drenched in sweat trying to hand out flyers and taking pictures with kids.

too tired he sits on a bench, taking off the head and brushing his wet hair when you appear with a camera seeming to be filming a self vlog. "do you need help?" you ask and heeseung falls into the rabbit hole that very instant. you're so pretty and you're also so sweet and kind, standing with him, helping him out even when you're not obligated to. smiling so beautifully and warmly at him each time he turns to look at you every other minute.

he's lost in his own world trying to make sense how he got such an amazing person to notice him and how everyone seems so interested in the flyers from the moment you step in. you offer him tissues to wipe off his sweat and appraise him for working so hard struggling but still not giving up, heeseung questions if this is real, if you are real.

he does not hesitate to ask for your name surprised when it sounds so familiar and going into a cardiac arrest upon realising you're the same idol he listens to everyday on break, your soothing voice helping him through his day.

you invite him to join you on your vlog and show you around the theme park after he's done working, at this point heeseung is soulless he has no idea how he's functioning but he is. he fumbles around to change as quick as he can after he's off, putting on as much deodrant as he can afraid of smelling sweaty around you. "thank you so much for hanging out with me!" you give him a hug at the end, "no thank you so much for helping me out," he'll never be able to get over this.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

the one who keeps crossing paths with you like destiny, a thin line between reality and falling so hard for a celebrity. you start as his airport crush, one on whom once he lays his eyes they follow everywhere. he takes in every little detail about you from across the room watching you sit in the waiting area wondering if you're on the same flight. he feels like he's seen you somewhere but he can't bring himself to remember.

it is when he spots the various people you're surrounded with, he realises you're an idol, not understanding how he seems to have seen you before but not having clear memory of it, like how can he forget someone like that.

nevertheless he's hooked, anyone can see with the way he keeps glancing in your direction time and again. some of the crew members notice him immediately, trying to gesture to you subtly. and it works when you lock eyes the next time he looks, he turns away at the speed of light face heating up and the tip of ears getting red, he definitely gave himself away. but what to do he's so bad at pretending.

visibly upset when he sees you boarding a different flight. but fate appears to be on his side when two days later he spots you again on the streets of athens filming some group content. he's a little hesitant to do anything. he leaves to look the surrounding shops only to come back again and again to watch you.

you're on break the fourth time he does it and you lock eyes again, jay literally freezes in his spot he doesn't know what to do, feeling like his heart would jump right out onto his palms as he watches you get up and walk towards him. "hey," you speak waving to him as you stop a freaking few inches away from him. "yeah," jay mumbles, voice so cold he regrets it in a second with your face turning confused at his bleak response,"i mean hey, i'm just really nervous right now," oh my god he can't believe he also said that like jay?? "mhm," you smile,"that's cute," jay stopped working.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

the one who falls at a chance encounter, one look and he's mesmerized. a die hard baseball fan, attending one of the matches where your group is set to perform a song. he had no clue about it but who is he to complain cause the moment he spots you, he can't take his eyes off of you, you dance so prettily, the way you move your body he's beyond hypnotized.

and your voice don't get him started at that it's like a siren calling for him, luring him into a trap he can't ever escape from. a little disappointed when the performance is over, keeps trying to find you in the crowd, looking for your pretty face amidst the others.

once he finds your seat, he's staring continuously, if not that then every two seconds. the game is long forgotten he doesn't give a shit who's winning and losing. for him the win here lies on watching you do everything. the way you smile at your members so softly, how your laugh seems to be so addicting even of he can barely hear it, when you're munching on snacks, cheering on the players from time to time. nothing's ever been this interesting to watch, nothing can beat this not even a match of his favourite teams.

had he known about you earlier he would have done everything in his power to attend every fansign, grabbing every opportunity to meet you, to be able to see you up close and talk to you, listen to your pretty voice telling him literally anything and everything.

he tries finding ways to meet you, looking closely to see if he can encounter a situation where he supposedly comes across you accidentally and compliment your performance, talking about how well you did. and lucky for him he does get that chance when he least expects it.

sad and dejected at the end of the performance, just leaving the venue when you bump into him all alone. his entire world shakes so excited he might burst any second. "your performance was so good i couldn't take my eyes off of you," he blurts out, "thanks, i noticed you looking, a lot actually," someone bury him right now.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

the one who has no interest in kpop, he's literally got no clue about any idol and he doesn't even give a fuck about it. he's super career oriented person who supposedly has no time for all this bullshit he says. but the moment he lays eyes on you, the pretty barista on the other side of the counter of his favourite cafe he cannot help rethinking about his ways of life.

he swears he's never seen someone so beautiful ever, there's just something about you that somehow seems to keep drawing him towards you. he wonders if you're new or has he always been this blind.

the way you smile when he enters through the door, welcoming him so sweetly, the light from outside falling on your face so gorgeously he stutters for the first time in forever. boy cannot form the proper words, he fumbles on his regular order, forgets to tell his name and keeps staring and gawking so awkwardly at you, he's convinced you think of him as a creep.

almost leaves the cafe literally a step out the door before he decides he cannot let this chance go and rushes like a loser over to the front, waiting as you attend to another customer. chewing on his bottom lip and hands fiddling all sweaty with nervousness.

"yes? how can i help you?" oh my god you're still so sweet, his heart skips several beats, "uhm i- well number- pretty- no i wondering- your pretty number- i meant can i-" he's never hated himself as much he does right this moment, the most important moment of his life. "my number?" you giggle and he literally melts for real,"yeah," smiling like an idiot in love. is shocked to find out you're an idol shooting a variety show, scolding himself internally for having no idea and feeling so embarrassed.

boy thinks he has lost it now, there's no way- until "did you check your cup?" if park sunghoon could put into words what he feels now he'd write an entire essay, he's so fallen, he can't get up anymore, breaking his own rules.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

the one who goes to support his friend and ends up getting attracted unexpectedly and unintentionally. boy has a lot of friends and friends of friends and so many girl friends and he's never ever felt the way he felt it immediately in a microsecond for you. it's like you stepped on stage just to capture his heart. he's been friends with her since middle school and the biggest supporter of her idol career. it's her first concert and he's booked frontline seat, having always watched only her famcams he's never really paid attention or noticed her members.

so the first time he sees you is live on stage right in front his eyes, so lost in watching you he can barely remember why he came initially.

your outfits compliment you so good, the way you seem so passionate and happy about what you're doing is so contagious to him. he so immersed in watching you, he doesn't realize how quickly it gets over, it's somehow good through because kept thinking about meeting you backstage with the special entry he would get for his friend.

he waits impatiently in the dressing room, legs bouncing in nervousness and excitement. he smiles and goes for a hug with his friend first, his eyes subtly trained on you, beaming with happiness when his friend introduces you to him.

repeating your name in his mind again and again,"your name is as pretty as you," he says smiling so so cutely at you trying to work his charms. everyone in the room can see it just how interested he is in you, leaving you both to talk and busying themselves in other things. it's struck by love at once for him but probably not for you, he understands that and knows it's best to be friends even though he wishes for may something more than that.

he tries not to overwhelm you while still complimenting you for every little thing. "you're so talented you had me mesmerized the entire concert," sunoo that's not subtle.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

the one who has been silently watching from afar for so long, cherishing every glimpse. a cat cafe owner who waits for every sunday just so he can watch you playing with the cats and kittens from his corner in the shop too afraid to ever talk to you.

the first time he saw you was during new years eve, about to close the cafe in the evening when in came the last customer, his about to be favourite customer. you vibes were so soft and warm, treating the little babies so tenderly and the way you seemed so relaxed jungwon fell for that aura around you, the comfort and genuineness you emanated.

he fell so hard, he couldn't even bother to tell you to leave even when it was way past his closing time and there were numerous missed calls from his friends for their new year party. leaves for a split second to stick a happy new year note on your shoes because baby can't bring himself to say it to your face, it doesn't help that you're super pretty and that he's shy as fuck.

he's super disappointed in himself for letting you leave like that, that day. cursing himself for being an introvert every day that goes by and he doesn't see you again.

when you visit again the next weekend he's so elated he can't describe it in words, he offers you an on the house drink, something he wouldn't have ever done for anyone, you just happen to be a special someone he's fallen for at first sight and every other glance. he's whipped and he's down bad but he's a loser and he can't approach you especially after coming across a video of you performing at an award show and realising you're an idol.

though not fully satisfied he's content to see a sight of you others don't know about, including moments of you napping surrounded by cats you love. he can see you go there for your alone time so he chooses not to disturb you "i hope we can be friends someday," his note says, the one he leaves on your table the day he gathers enough courage.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

the one who happens to be right across the door, bumping into you just at the right time all the damn time. there's been a lot of times riki is running late for things. once again he's late opening. his door in a hurry so does someone else right on the other side both bumping into each other. you look up for a split second before rushing back inside and closing the door on his face. he's flabbergasted but he's also so captivated. was such a pretty girl always living next door to him? or did the moving trucks he saw yesterday were yours?

the door opens again as you peek out slightly closing it shut again when you see him still standing there, are you shy? he wonders just then the door opens again and this time there's another girl stepping out with you trailing behind with your head down, a cap and mask on.

he recognises the other girl, saw her appear on one of the variety show he watches regularly and then realizes you must be an idol, "it suits her," he thinks out loud slapping a hand on his mouth when you turn to look back with eyes. shit. the next day he bumps into you again and then again the next day and also the day after. and with each time you seem to scurry away faster than before.

normally he wouldn't care at all but he's honestly been so bewitched by you since the moment he saw you he can't stop thinking about you, searching up your videos and watching you constantly.

"wait!" he tries to stop you once but you look at him weird and run off so quick he's baffled, worried he scares you too much. he didn't even do anything though?

"hey, just wanted to let you know i don't mean any harm, just wanted to introduce myself and maybe be friends? i know you're an idol but it doesn't matter to me, i won't snitch or anything if that's what you're scared about. xoxo, your next door neighbour, riki." he waits behind his door and slips the note from under after noticing you walk out of yours from the peephole. "hey," he steps out when you smile reading it.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie

[danieyells]

Who do you think the ghouls are???

I wrote this out between my trip to work(an hour or so) and my entire shift(three hours) with some breaks between to actually do my job. LET'S SUS THIS OUT TOGETHER KIDS

First thing of note. According to B's Log, this is an Inter-house Squad mission. According to Episode 9 Chapter 1 when they're first introduced, those require no doubling up on house members. This is to ensure that students can be evaluated individually when considering the Laurel Crown's winner in the future.

So there's one ghoul from each house except for one of them. This is important because it means that our guesses, if they're really going to make sense, probably have to conform to that. While it's possible that they break that rule on the second inter-house mission, I kind of doubt it. Nonetheless, my final guess is pretty dependent on that capacity to narrow things down.

Sinostra may be your immediate exclusion because they just had their episode but remember that Sinostra's second episode was the one before the first Inter-House Squad episode, and he lead the Inter-House Squad mission. That means any house is applicable.

While the show is supposed to feature celebrity guests it's important to remember that that doesn't necessarily mean that the ghouls chosen for the mission should be celebrities. Darkwick can and will make shit up to get people where they need them. This means we can't narrow things down based on that.

Finally I saw someone say that we can't rely on the nature of the outfits since there's probably a crew styling them. In real life that might matter but as artistic choices they're much more likely to show the character's nature in their clothes. So I think the clothes are a reasonable thing to examine.

Onto my guesses!!!

First one. Suit is very properly done, even has a tie clip. Hands are hidden, either behind back or leaned on something behind him. My first guesses are Rui and Subaru--covered up and closed off. But the suit is too fancy and decorative for Subaru. Too sparkly. The flowers fit Ruinfor his romantic nature and that Obscuary has a botanical garden and he tends to the garden in Obscuary all the time. Rui's also notably very attractive and could easily be excused as a little known celebrity or upcoming actor or something. While he'd be wary of going on such a mission, I feel like Rui would be a good candidate both for his nature and the power of his scythe, and he might agree to go to ✨win the pc's heart✨ or something(but actually have some other intention.) Almost certain the first ghoul is Rui. If it's not Rui it's Subaru.

I say if not Rui then Subaru because of the closed off and neat outfit and the pose which might be arms behind his back. Very Subaru fitted. Both want to avoid physical contact with others, so it's hard to say.

Others have claimed Towa because of the flower--Towa would never have his clothes so tightly done. He needs freedom, he needs to breathe. Towa may love humans for their fragility now but I don't think he'd tolerate humans fussing over his clothes and trying to keep them all closed up. There's also that they're on an island and surrounded by camera crew and he can't talk during the day--Towa surely wouldn't be nominated for a mission like that. He's too. . .obvious. The pose isn't lacadasical or natural enough either. If he were dressed like that he'd probably look uncomfortable.

I've also seen Ed as the first one and he has a similar loose, sloppy style as Towa most of the time. He's also very fragile in sunlight--and I don't think Darkwick would trust him to be on a mission with cameras either, and if sunlight can either kill him with extended exposure or weaken him he'd be really obvious on cameras too. . . .

Saw Jiro for the first one too and. Same issue. Jiro's uniform is too sloppy. The pose doesn't fit him either. While he'd probably sit still and let himself be done up cleanly I wonder if such tightly done clothing is safe for his circulation. . . also the character doesn't look big enough? Jiro is very tall and this character doesn't really look that way

Saw Jin as well and. Again. The outfit is too tidy to be Jin. Jin wears his clothes comfortably. Even his masquerade outfit was loosened. The pose doesn't suit him either.

Romeo wears a tie clip like that and wears his uniform neat and closed up and thus comes to mind--I don't know enough about fashion to say whether or not that would fit him though. The pose also doesn't feel confident enough. . .with whatever's going on with his leg I'm not sure he'd want to be on a mission that involves being out on a beach like that or something, not to mention Sinostra's current plans against Hyde. . .he was also in charge of the last one which, on one hand, was kind of a failure so maybe they'd want him to observe how someone else leads the mission. On the other hand would they double up on him? Would he accept another mission so soon after the last one when they're plotting? I'm gonna say it's not him.

Second one. The pose is much more open and loose, although it looks like he's getting out of the limo so it may be that? The suit isn't as fancy as the first one, but it does still have the vest. The bow tie, friendly pose, and simpler outfit of the second ghoul strikes me as Haru. Not really a ton of notes, I don't feel like it really could be anyone else.

My other thought briefly included Luca, whom I've also seen other people guessing. But the skin we do see is too pale--that's a shadow on the neck, not an attempt at a dark skintone. You can tell because the surrounding area also has shadow on it. The suit also doesn't really look like something Luca would wear, or rather it doesn't look the way Luca would wear it. He also doesn't strike me as a bow tie guy. . .and the pose seems too un-serious for him as well.

Towa and Kaito fit the more open pose, but I've already ruled out Towa being on this mission at all(imagine the tempermental romance guy who controls the weather on an island where people are supposed to flirt with one of his favorite people. . .don't think it'd go well.) Kaito I'm ruiling out mostly because I'm certain Jin is also here, so that'd be too many Frostheimers. Also surely he'd be rubbernecking the whole time, unaccustomed to luxury and interested in celebrity stuff as he is. (Although that'd be so cute. . . .)

Ed being the second one. . .honestly, with the way the head is shaded, I can kinda see that if they were going to allow him on the show/he were to agree to go on the mission? Because he'd probably have his umbrella. . .but since I'm pretty sure the first one is Rui that rules out Ed because it'd be too many Obscuary students.

Saw Ren too and. . .honestly I can see him too. The pose is loose enough snd if he's like pulling himself out of the limo or something that'd make sense rather than it being an open, friendly pose. . .Ren is a pretty good guess too I think.

Third makes me pause. That is the exact way Tohma has his handkerchief folded. The looseness doesn't fit Tohma now but Vagastrom Tohma? Maybe. Maybe he'd be letting loose here. The pose feels confident, the style of dress is relaxed, the visible hand is un-gloved, unlike most of Tohma's appearances. The shirt is loosely tucked. Again I also think that another one is Jin. So that'd be too many Frostheim students.

My current guess for the third ghoul is Sho. The loose style and pose kind of suit him. His uniform shirt is loosely half tucked in, so the loose tuck suits him. The chain around the neck also resembles the one Sho wears with his uniform. Sho is physically strong and athletic so the somewhat larger looking size would fit too.

I already explained my doubts on Tohma. But if they're breaking the one-person-per-house rule that would make sense. Although if not for that rule and being certain one of the others is Jin I'd 100% say it's Tohma.

Alan is another great guess. The confidence of the pose could be stiffness/tension. The skin is too light though, unless they're making him look pale. . . .

Saw Taiga and honestly the posture feels Taiga enough to me! Like Taiga when he's in Quiet Mode and just kind of staring at nothing and not saying much and annoyed? The fit is kind of Taiga too, with the loosely tucked in shirt. . . . . Can't see his nails to see if they're painted though. But I think Taiga is a good guess, except I feel like they wouldn't trust Taiga Hoshibami in a situation like this. On the other hand I feel like he'd be great for a 'people are going missing' mission. He already makes people disappear--but also his stigma would be helpful.

Saw someone guess Yuri and. Yuri is definitely too neat of a dresser for it to be him. The outfit completely overrides any other evidence I think.

Ed also fits the sloppiness, but the hands being exposed and ungloved tells me probably not. And my previous points about Ed still stand too. Also the pose isn't. . .dynamic enough for Ed imo.

Man the pose here is a strong one. Loose clothes, jewelry, loosely worn vest. . .it fits a lot of the more slovenly and relaxed characters, but the pose. . .it doesn't fit all of them I think. I think the fourth ghoul is Haku. I think. Maybe. I feel like he kind of doesn't fit the pose tbh, but also kind of does?

Ed would fit here very well. The clothes are a mess and they match the way his uniform was a mess when the pc went into his room. The pose is pretty Ed to me. But I've also explained why I don't think Ed's in this one earlier. If the first isn't Rui this one is definitely Ed I think.

I've already attributed the second one to Haru. And I think the second one could be Ren too, he keeps his uniform surprisingly neat compared to this. He is a good candidate because of the laziness, but the posture doesn't suit him

Taiga would fit the outfit with its looseness and chains(his family name, Hoshibami, also means 'star eater' which also kinda fits the star necklace--Romeo's second name, Scorpius, is also the name of the Scorpio constellation) but less so the pose. Taiga also always has his nails painted and the pinky ring doesn't match the one he always wears. Aside from that I explained my thoughts on Taiga being on this mission already. I kind of feel like they wouldn't want to put Taiga in another mission right after the last one. But they doubled on Romeo in the first inter-house squad, so it's not impossible.

Ritsu fits the pose but not the outfit. God Ritsu would never dress so sloppily.

Same with Yuri.

Same with Tohma.

Same with Romeo--also the pinky ring does not match his either. He has that ring in all of his outfits except the Jade Pavilion one which he didn't choose. I doubt he'd hesitate to flash his style on national television, especially since it seems to be a signet ring so it's a family thing.

I don't think Leo would dress quite as sloppily. He'd have a loose style but the vest is too loose and messy, the shirt feels too loose--a little loose and unbuttoned like it is fits, but it's not stylish looking enough. If it were a touch more orderly I'd consider Leo more likely. Also feels like this one is too broad for Leo.

Sho has a sloppy enough casual style that I could see this as him. But the pose doesn't fit him either I think. . .I guess it'd depend on the expression or situation--I mean all poses are like thst but. If I think too much like that I'll get ahead of myself.

The fifth ghoul is Jin. No questions asked. Aside from the blue shirt it's the pose and the pasty white skin and the open but kind of loosely tucked in shirt. Very obviously Jin to me. If that isn't Jin I will be stunned.

The sixth ghoul is the real toughie. . .but we've only got Sinostra and Mortkranken left for the ghouls. It's definitely not Taiga--too put together--or Romeo--not stylish enough. The pose feels very Ritsu to me, as does how put together the wiole outfit is. Romeo was in the episode before the first inter-house squad so it's not out of the question for Ritsu to be in the episode following the last Sinostra one. He's also the son of a well known lawyer--he'd fit the celebrity vibe to some degree. While at first the character looks wide, I think that's because the left side if the pic is cut, giving an impression of girth. At first I took the car as a clue too, but they're all getting out of the limo from the preview I think. So the car isn't a clue.

It's not Jiro because the clothes are too orderly and the hand doesn't appear to have Jiro's scars. Also Jiro on an island sounds like a medical emergency waiting to happen.

Yuri would be more nervous in a situation like this. . .while the posture of the hand adjusting the tie has a Ritsu feel, I think the sixth ghoul is Yuri. The rest of the posture is hunched over and a little uncertain-looking, seemingly leaned forward rather than stopd upright. While Yuri is very proud and holds himself high and is happy to be admited, he's also very emotive in general and would be out of his element here on top of the nature of the game being about dating/pursuit of/getting the interest of a woman. I feel like the suit isn't stylish enough for him--he seems to have high quality tastes--but I don't know anything about fashion so. Grain of salt or whatever.

While I initially understood the guesses of Alan because of the perceived size and the car part in the background, like I said I think the size is because the pic is cut off and the vehicle is because everyone is getting out of/stood near the limo and some angles show the limo in the bg more clearly. Also the suit seems too tightly wound for Alan.

Same with Tohma as far ss the size theorizing goes.

Same with Sho.

Ren is another good candidate here tbh. Uncertain posture, kind of neat suit. . .but since I already chose Haru as my guess he's not applicable.

Ritsu, while I reslly think fits, I think would be standing taller and more proud than the image appears to be showing. The wrinkles in the vest make me think the person is leaned over. Of course they could still be lesned over from getting out of the limo.

Uuuuh I think that's it for my guesses. But we'll learn in uuuh 5 days!!!!

[sleeplesssmol]

Vertin's personality and traits based on in-game context.

Contains Spoilers.

Will update when I find more tidbits about our beloved Timekeeper.

Updated: March 15 2024

Vertin sucks at math.

Not much to say here. Although, this is another difference between her and Sonetto, who loves math. I hope they do something with this later because it'd be fun.

Vertin is 16 confirmed

While this isn't a personality trait, I did see some debate about her age since it wasn't officials stated until now and it was assumed through context. Prisoner in the Cave explicitly confirms her age. Vertin became Timekeeper when she was 12 and has been the the TK for the past 4 years.

Vertin is a pianist and a painter.

You can see a piano in the back of her office in the Suitcase by the window. It makes sense in regards to Vertin's musically inclined Arcanum. There's an easel and stool in her office too. She doesn't merely collect art, she creates it. Vertin also owns a camera (official artwork released) too and mentions her photography in the begining, so this isn't new but I thought I should add it.

Vertin's still playful under all her composure.

We know baby Vertin was a little menace, but we can still see a spark of that mischief in her later years. For example, Vertin slapping a fake mustache on Regulus to avoid Sonetto really captures this. We can tell from other characters' voice lines that Vertin will most likely play along with their shenanigans. She'll chirp like a bird in response to Rabies talking about his bird friends (Wilderness interaction). She'll help Sonetto during hide and seek (Wilderness). She watches movies with Eternity and An An Lee. X asks her for help with his projects. Going through her crew's voice lines really paints a better picture of how she interacts with others. The voice lines point to someone playful and curious when she's not in work mode.

Vertin was a gremlin.

Vertin's love language is giving.

We know baby Vertin loved to give gifts to a reluctant Sonetto, but that part of her still exists. She tried to grant everyone's last wishes during the 1929 Storm. We also know she gives Lilya alcohol as a gift upon her return from 1929. She is also very direct. We see her ask people what they want or what can she do for them throughout the story. To expand further, you could say she likes fulfilling people's desires instead of limiting it to material gifts. We can see more of instances of this during the Green Lake event, especially in the way she protects Jessica from the Foundation. She also tried to get Regulus funding for a ship. I love the Suitcase Dad meme, but it's rooted in nuggets of truth.

She was a crappy student, yet she was also a resourceful gremiln. Vertin never liked the institution! Honor student? Top of the class? Never. Teachers are filled with that "Godamnit Vertin" energy toward her too. I hope we see more gremlin energy in the future.

One-sided childhood friends.

Vertin is a collector.

Sonetto and Vertin were desk mates but Sonetto couldn't stand Vertin when they were kids. She even tried to avoid Vertin at times but Vertin persisted with her gifts. We can see this in the hallway scene. Sonetto's about to change routes to avoid Vertin but Vertin called out to her to give her a frog she caught. Kinda funny how Sonetto can't stand Vertin but also can't resist her when they were kids. Vertin and Matilda were actually closer back then. Well, at least until the tear gas incident. Sonetto changed after Vertin was hurt and the rascal wasn't around to bother her. I feel like this tidbit says a lot about Vertin and her influence on people.

Baby Vertin collected rocks, bugs, and frogs. Adult Vertin collects painting and mementos of people she's lost. Things were simpler as a kid.

Vertin is stronger than she looks.

She was a wild child and she's still got it years later. Vertin can run for long periods of time, endure injuries, and climb obstacles. That, and she's still essentially a child solider. We see her hold her own when she needs to fight solo doing stuff like dodging bullets. Sonetto and Matilda also exhibit these freakishly athletic traits, especially Sonetto.

Vertin befriends people in every Era, despite knowing she'll lose them.

Compared to the other children raised by the Foundation, Vertin's traveled the world and witnessed loss in every Era. This opens doors to a whole new set of questions. How did she change over time? How do the Arcanists she recruited before the story treat her? Did she have crushes in previous Eras? Were the oranges just as bitter? Vertin seems to get close to people very easily and doesn't build walls around herself despite the trauma. You'd think someone who's lost so much would stop trying to get close to people, but she doesn't.

Vertin is optimistic.

Even as a child, she was full of hope. It's why she fights for the future and is a core part of her personality. She needs to fight for all those she lost and stop the Storm from taking more lives.

Vertin gets quiet when embarrassed/shy.

She'll blush and fall silent, but she doesn't stammer or go all tsundere. We can see this in voice lines. Sonetto's high praises make her cover her face with her hands. Eternity gets a reaction out of her when she holds her hand. She also blushed when she received surprise smooch and fell silent.

Vertin has a unique scar on her back.

Vertin is a tactile person.

Arcana mentions the scar after Vertin was shot multiple times in the back by Schneider. It's a big scar and new theories about the scar are ongoing and interesting!

In several voice line interactions, Vertin is patting people's heads or holding their hands. Not all her crew mates are on board with it, some seem confused, and others play along. We can also see examples in story like her handing Sonetto a frog while gently grasping her hand or her taking Regulus's hand to lead her into the Suitcase. Here is a post with the evidence to back this claim.

Vertin sucks at arcanum but her deep understanding of arcanum is uncanny.

The story mentions her weak arcanum skills throughout the story. They really want you to remember this. Also, her arcanum didn't manifest until sometime after the break away event but before the events in the prologue. During her stay in the guardhouse, she doubts if she's even an arcanist and mentions her arcanum has yet to manifest, which is wild. Smoltin is fighting with her tiny hands and wit in this chapter. However, in the prologue it's mentioned Vertin's understanding of arcanum and her perception makes her unique amongst arcanists. She's also considered more "rationale" than other arcanists. You can read more about this here.

Vertin is stealthy.

Smoltin sneaks around to play outside. She steals food for herself and the Ring from the Staff Canteen, which has better quality food than what the kids get. This tells me she's done this before. Adult Vertin also sneaks around the Walden to find Schneider. She makes maps, tracks guard routes, and avoids detection since whe was a kid.

Tooth Fairy was one of the few Foundation members who cared about Vertin.

Tooth Fairy is the one who gave Smoltin the toffees (chit chat voicelines). She also covered for Vertin on a few occasions to protect her from punishment. She remembers Vertin faking her illness to skip class, but her bruises and wounds were real. The Foundation does have a few kind hearts that genuinely care about the children. The causes of Vertin's injuries is up to speculation.

[legendary-69420]

Art, Arguments, and Absolute Mayhem

Chapter 14

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3 )

racing hearts

A/N : This is a pretty big chapter and It took me a LOT of time to write..share your thoughts in the comments

Mark sat at the kitchen counter, idly stirring his coffee, though he hadn’t taken a single sip. The soft clinking of dishes filled the quiet Monaco apartment as Signore Lazzaro moved around the kitchen with practiced ease.

The older man glanced over briefly before setting down a plate of toast in front of Mark. “You have been staring at that cup for an unreasonable amount of time, ragazzo.”

Mark blinked, then sighed. “I’m thinking.”

Lazzaro hummed as he poured himself a coffee. “Ah, a dangerous pastime.” He took a slow sip before continuing, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. “And what, may I ask, has occupied your thoughts so thoroughly this morning?”

Mark exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Charles kissed me.”

Lazzaro did not even look surprised. Instead, he calmly set his cup down, folding his hands neatly on the counter. “At last.”

Mark narrowed his eyes. “That’s it? At last?”

Lazzaro arched a brow. “Would you prefer I feign shock? Because I assure you, that would be dishonest.”

Mark groaned, slumping back in his chair. “No, but—I mean, he just walked up to me, kissed me, and then stormed off like I was the one who did something insane! And I still have no idea why he did it!”

Lazzaro sighed, shaking his head as though speaking to a particularly slow student. “Mark, you are an intelligent young man, but sometimes, you lack the ability to see what is directly in front of you.”

Mark scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Lazzaro took another sip of his coffee before meeting Mark’s gaze. “It is quite simple. He was jealous.”

Mark frowned. “Jealous? Of what?”

Lazzaro set his cup down with measured patience. “Ragazzo, you are impossibly charming. You socialize with ease. People gravitate toward you. And Charles…” He tilted his head slightly. “Charles is not quite fond of you at that time in these matters.”

Mark folded his arms. “That doesn’t give him the right to just kiss me out of nowhere and act like nothing happened.”

Lazzaro exhaled slowly, as though suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. “And have you spoken to him about it?”

Mark hesitated. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Mark exhaled, staring into his untouched coffee.

“Because I used to tell Charles everything. Every stupid problem, every random thought. But this—this is the one thing I can’t just talk to him about.”

Lazzaro regarded him for a moment before nodding. “I understand.” He stood up, beginning to clear the plates. “However, avoiding the matter will not make it disappear.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his temples. “I was hoping you would tell me what to do.”

Lazzaro smirked, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “Ah, so now you seek my wisdom?”

Mark scowled at him. “Yes, old man, that’s why I’m sitting here having an existential crisis over my coffee.”

Lazzaro chuckled, shaking his head. “Mark, you already know what must be done. You are simply reluctant to do it.”

Mark frowned. “And what exactly do I know?”

Lazzaro turned to face him fully, his expression patient yet firm. “You wish to speak to him.”

Mark stared at him, expression unreadable, but he did not argue.

Because he knew Lazzaro was right.

The day’s PR schedule promised to be simple: a series of fun, light-hearted activities to boost Ferrari’s image. But with Charles and Mark at the center of it, simple was never on the table. Cameras were set up, crew members were mic-ing them up, and the room was filled with the hum of quiet excitement. The first activity was a blindfolded driving challenge on a racing simulator. One of them would be blindfolded, and the other had to guide them through the track with only their voice as a tool.

Mark was the navigator first, and Charles sat in the driver’s seat with a black blindfold tied securely over his eyes. He adjusted his grip on the wheel and sighed deeply. "Don’t mess this up, Mark. I actually want to finish the track," he warned, his tone laced with suspicion.

Charles rolled his eyes but secured the blindfold around his head. "Don’t sabotage me, Spencer. I know you like to play dirty."

"Who, me?" Mark gasped, all faux innocence. "I would never do such a thing."

The second Charles’s vision was gone, Mark’s antics began.

"Alright, move forward. Slow, slow, slow—STOP!" Mark yelled, his voice full of panic for absolutely no reason.

Charles slammed the brakes. "What? What happened?!"

"Nothing, I just wanted to see if you'd listen," Mark cackled.

"You are insufferable," Charles grumbled, gripping the controller tightly. "Just tell me where to go!"

"Have a little faith in me, Leclerc," Mark grinned, standing behind him with his arms crossed. "I’ve got the vision of an eagle."

"Eagles are the ones that see, not speak," Charles shot back, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

"Details, details," Mark muttered with a wave of his hand. "Alright, let’s do this. Go straight."

Charles slowly pressed on the virtual accelerator, the simulated car rolling forward on the track. For a moment, it seemed like everything would go smoothly. But then Mark’s focus wavered.

"Oh, wait, wait, wait, left! Left, left! No, no—right!" Mark’s panicked voice echoed through the room as Charles jerked the wheel in confusion.

"WHICH IS IT, MARK?!" Charles shouted, his body leaning with the car as if that would help him turn it.

"Uh, straight! No—left! Crap, that’s a wall—NO!" Mark’s voice reached a pitch only dogs could hear as Charles’ car collided with the side of the track.

"MERDE!" Charles groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. "Are you even looking at the screen?!"

"I’m looking! I’m looking!" Mark insisted, squinting at the screen like he’d never seen a racing game in his life. "I—oh, my hoodie string is uneven. Hang on." He began fiddling with the hoodie’s drawstrings, tugging them back and forth to make them even.

"MARK!" Charles’s voice was pure exasperation. "I CAN'T SEE THE SCREEN!"

"Right, right, sorry! Okay, gas, gas, gas—NO, BRAKE!" Mark’s hands flailed wildly as if that would somehow transfer the message faster. But it was too late. Charles’s car crashed head-on into the barrier, the in-game announcer declaring, “Race Over.”

Silence.

Charles pulled off the blindfold and slowly turned toward Mark, his eyes narrow and full of disbelief. "I’m never letting you guide me anywhere. Ever. Not on a track. Not on a sidewalk. Not even in a parking lot."

Mark cackled, slapping his knee. "Dude, that’s on you for trusting me."

The next round had them switch roles. This time, Charles had to blindfold Mark, and everything took a turn—for Charles' mind, at least.

He reached over, fingers brushing against Mark’s cheek as he adjusted the blindfold. The scent of Mark’s cologne, fresh like sea salt and citrus, hit him like a punch. His fingertips lingered just a second too long on Mark’s jawline. His throat went dry. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of how close they were—his breath hitching as images flashed uninvited into his mind.

Mark leaned forward obediently. Charles reached around to tie the blindfold behind his head, fingers brushing lightly against Mark's jawline. Soft. His fingers lingered just a second too long on the curve of Mark’s neck.

Focus, Charles. It’s just a blindfold. But his mind didn’t listen. Instead, it betrayed him with flashes of Mark pulling him in by the collar and pressing him against the wall, their mouths connecting with a ferocity that left him breathless. His fingers pressed harder into Mark’s skin for a moment, his breath hitching.

What if I just pinned him down and then kissed him right here? His eyes darted to Mark's jawline and then his neck. Charles started seeing visions of him making out with Mark in the foggy room with dim lights. Mark softly groans as he is blindfolded and Charles is kissing him. Charles moves his hand over Mark's neck earning a small moan from Mark allowing him to enter Mark's mouth and passionately kiss him. Mark is now without any piece of clothing, Charles moves his hands over Mark's bare chest and abs. Mark soft moans turn on Charles even more. Then Charles' hands move down and-

“Charles?” Mark's voice broke through the fog. “You good, Lec?”

Charles snapped back to reality, pulling his hands away quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat.

Get it together, man.

"Charles?" Mark tilted his head, the fabric of the blindfold wrinkling slightly. "You good? You’re taking forever."

"I’m fine!" Charles’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Perfectly fine. Here, blindfold on. Done. Done!"

Mark raised a skeptical brow, but Charles had already turned his back, walking away like the ground was suddenly on fire.

“Alright, genius,” Charles said, gripping the mic. “I’m actually going to help you. Unlike some people.”

Mark tilted his head. “Don’t make me take this blindfold off and fight you.”

The two bickered the entire time, Charles’ instructions clear but filled with sarcastic quips. Unlike Mark, he didn’t let his attention wander—though his eyes may have wandered a bit too long on the sharp lines of Mark’s jawline as he focused.

Artistic Chaos

Their next PR stunt was an artistic endeavor — sketching portraits of each other. The challenge? The artist could request poses from their “model.”

"Okay, Charles, do a heroic pose. Fist on your hip. Chin up, eyes to the horizon," Mark instructed, holding his pencil like a sword.

Charles played along, holding the pose with exaggerated flair. "Like this?"

Mark snorted. "Yeah, if you were on the cover of Worst Superhero Ever magazine."

After a few minutes Mark tilted the sketchbook revealing a stupid ugly stickman with two spikey hair on his head and he titled it 'Charles'.

Charles was not surprised by the drawing whatsoever "Guessed so"

Mark smirked, "Oh sorry hold on lemme just flip the page" Mark flipped the page and revealed an almost photorealistic sketch of Charles with his prominent features more well defined.

Charles was dumbfounded but still not surprised as it was SO Mark to do such a thing. Of course he knows how to draw well.

"Drew you like one of my French girls- ahem guys" Mark cackled.

-

"Mark, take off your shirt," Charles said, crossing his arms.

Mark froze for half a second before shrugging. "Alright." He grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it, his toned abs and chest coming into view. Charles’s eyes went wide, his brain short-circuiting as he caught sight of the sharp V-line at Mark’s hips.

OH GOD. STOP. STOP LOOKING.

"NO! KEEP IT ON! KEEP IT ON!" Charles’s voice came out in a panicked shout, his hands waving in front of him like he was warding off a ghost.

Mark burst into laughter, letting his shirt drop. "You’re so weird, Leclerc."

"No, you’re weird," Charles mumbled, face red, eyes stubbornly fixed on his sketchpad.

Later, during an interview segment, they were asked to share nicknames for each other. Charles listed simple ones—"Spencer," "idiot," and "Mr. Distraction"—while Mark’s list was pure chaos: "Charlie Boy," "Princess of Monaco," "French Fry," and "Green Flag Leclerc." Charles shook his head, muttering, "Never calling me that."

“Alright,” Charles started. “For Mark, we have: Idiot, Stupid, Pain in the A—”

“Hey! Those are not pet names,” Mark shot back. “Alright, for Charles, we have: Legend, Leclec, Little Prince, Sharles, Charlie, Mr. Always P3—”

“Take that back!” Charles shouted, slapping Mark's arm.

“I WILL NOT!” Mark cackled.

The cameras flickered on, capturing the two Ferrari drivers seated side by side, their faces lit with that familiar mischievous glow. It was another PR interview, but for some reason, the energy today was pure chaos.

Mark’s Verbal Blunders

Mark leaned forward, squinting at the question card in front of him. “If I’m correctly being wrong here…” he started, his face full of confidence.

Charles turned to him slowly, his face contorting in exaggerated disbelief. “What?” he deadpanned, his eyebrows shooting up.

Mark blinked innocently. “What?”

Charles rubbed his face with both hands, letting out a groan. “What does that even mean, mon dieu (my god)? You’re either correct or you’re wrong, Mark! Pick a side!”

"Words are hard, Charles. You wouldn’t understand," Mark deadpanned.

"I understand you’re an idiot," Charles shot back.

Mark snickered, leaning his elbow on the table. He gave Charles a cheeky grin, not knowing what he’d done. The crew behind the cameras burst into laughter, and Charles dropped his head onto the table, tapping it lightly like he was begging for mercy.

---

Later, when asked to offer each other words of motivation, Mark turned to Charles, face full of fake sincerity.

“Charles, God gives his strongest battles to his hardest soldiers,” Mark said with all the gravitas of a prophet.

Silence.

Then Mark added, "And you’re really hard."

Charles’ jaw dropped and in a concerned voice he said "MARK. NO!" He shoved him off his chair, both of them howling with laughter.

---

Mark’s "Brilliant" Ideas

Later, during a behind-the-scenes clip, Mark could be seen inspecting the area for a spot to shoot a promo. He gestured toward a concrete wall with a slick, graffiti-like design. “Hey, guys, can we get a shot so we’re behind that cool-looking wall?”

Charles glanced up, squinting at Mark like he’d just heard the dumbest idea of the century. “You mean… in front of it?” he asked slowly, each word loaded with mock confusion.

Mark froze, eyes darting to the wall, back to Charles, and then to the wall again. “…Yes.”

The entire crew erupted in laughter, and Charles put his hands on his hips, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “C’est incroyable (This is unbelievable),” he muttered, grinning despite himself.

The Wierd Dilemma

Back in another interview chair, Mark tilted his head, eyes squinting like he was unlocking the mysteries of the universe. “Mosquitoes can fly, right?”

Charles sighed, knowing something ridiculous was about to follow. “Yes, Mark. Mosquitoes can fly.”

“But a fly can’t mosquito,” Mark added with a slow, thoughtful nod. “Isn’t that… concerning?”

The pause that followed was deadly. Silence stretched as the crew collectively realized what he’d just said. Charles blinked once. Twice.

“WHAT?!” Charles finally shouted, half-screaming, half-laughing as he threw his head back. “Are you serious right now?” He shook his head, face buried in his hands, muttering to himself in French. “Je ne peux pas faire ça (I can’t do this).”

Mark shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “I’m just saying. Something to think about.”

Cultural Reflections

During a break, Mark leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, looking especially thoughtful. Out of nowhere, he declared, “Good thing I wasn’t born in China.”

Charles looked over at him, confused. “Pourquoi (why)?”

Mark didn’t miss a beat. “I can’t speak Chinese.”

There was silence. Charles blinked at him slowly, lips parting as he processed what had just been said. Then he burst out laughing so hard that he doubled over, clutching his stomach. The crew behind the camera was howling too, and even the cameraman’s lens shook from the vibration of laughter.

“Arrête, arrête (Stop, stop),” Charles wheezed, gasping for air. “How do you live like this?”

Multilingual Chaos

At another point in the day, the interviewer asked a simple question, but Mark’s brain was miles ahead — or perhaps miles behind. He casually started answering in French, his words flowing smoothly. Charles blinked, visibly impressed, until suddenly Mark shifted into Italian mid-sentence.

“Et c’est pourquoi je pense que la stratégie devrait être… e poi abbiamo bisogno di concentrarci sul ritmo del settore finale (And that’s why I think the strategy should be… and then we need to focus on the pace of the final sector),” Mark rambled, his hands gesturing as if this all made perfect sense.

Charles tilted his head, brow furrowing. “Wait, wait, wait. Did you just—”

Charles snorted. “Tu es un homme étrange, Mark (You’re a strange man, Mark).”

Roasting Gone Right

“Mark, do you know what would really help your driving?” Charles said casually during a Q&A session.

Mark, already on edge, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m dying to hear this.”

“Maybe if you focused on the road instead of the crowd. I’ve seen you waving at fans like you’re at a parade.”

Mark’s jaw dropped as the crew howled in laughter. But he didn’t stay stunned for long. “Okay, but at least I have fans to wave at.”

The entire room gasped. Charles clutched his chest like he’d been fatally wounded, leaning away dramatically. “Oh! Oh! Il m'a eu (He got me)!” he cried, hands over his heart like he’d just been stabbed.

Flirting Disguised as Banter

The lighthearted roasting escalated into something else entirely. As they stood next to each other for a photo shoot, Charles eyed Mark up and down, lips quirking into a smirk. “You think you’re cute, huh?” he teased.

Mark flipped his hair in an exaggerated, slow-motion gesture. “I don’t think. I know.”

Charles clicked his tongue. “Arrogant.”

“Je suis magnifique, et tu le sais (I’m magnificent, and you know it),” Mark shot back, giving Charles a wink.

Charles chuckled, looking away like he was trying not to be affected. “I hate you.”

“Love you too-” Mark replied instantly, grinning then freezing, realizing what just came out of his mouth.

Good thing Charles didn't hear it.

Fans ate up every moment, filling the internet with clips, edits, and comments:

@ferrarifangirl_23: "THE WAY CHARLES YELLED 'KEEP THEM ON' OMGGGG I’M CRYING."

@chaosmarkstan: "THE BLINDFOLD MOMENT WAS NOT PG. CHARLES. WE SAW YOUR FACE. YOU ARE NOT SLICK."

@charlesforever: "They’re basically future husbands at this point. Just get married already."

@f1_chaos: “The sexual tension is unbearable.”

@markcharlesupdates: “Charles said ‘keep it on’ but his *eyes said otherwise.”

@chaotic_scuderia: “Mark out here speaking French, Italian, and the language of dangerous seduction.”

@leclercspencer_stan: “Mark: ‘If I’m correctly being wrong’ Charles: ‘tf does that mean?’ ME: 'tf does that mean?'”

@allf1all_chaos:"The way Charles paused while blindfolding Mark. HE WAS HAVING THOUGHTS."

The internet’s collective reaction could be summed up in two words: “I’m dead.”

[itadoriboo]

Driver's Seat

Modern! Jean Kirstein x Fem! Reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 3.5k words

⋆.ᝰ.ᐟ Summary:

Jealousy hits hard after Eren’s party and Jean doesn’t bother hiding it. One car ride, one wrong look, and suddenly you’re making it up to him... right there in the driver’s seat.

⋆.ᝰ.ᐟ Warnings:

MDNI! 18+, Mention of Jealousy, Mention of Possessiveness, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Creampie, Marking, Dirty Talk

“Okay, okay! Everyone shut the hell up so Eren can blow the damn cake!” Connie slurs from the corner, raising a plastic cup like a drunk pirate.

Laughter rings out. The room’s warm and buzzing with leftover energy from half drunk college students, low music, the scent of weed, beer, and sugar hanging in the air.

You’re in a tight circle with your usual crew, standing right beside the birthday boy. Your arm’s brushing Eren’s. His smile is wide and flushed, his man bun's messy like someone yanked it for fun earlier.

“Alright, Jaeger,” Mikasa says from across the table, camera up. “Make it count.”

“Make a wish!” you tease, nudging his shoulder.

Eren grins at you. “Think I already got it.”

You roll your eyes with a laugh, not thinking much of it but someone does.

Jean watches all of it from the kitchen. He's nursing a drink, lips tight, teeth grinding so hard he’s surprised they haven’t cracked. He saw the way Eren leaned into you. Saw the way Eren looked at you like you were the candle he was about to blow out. Crazy, I know.

Connie whistles loud enough to startle half the room. “Let’s goooo, Jaeger!”

Mikasa rolls her eyes but lifts her phone to snap a photo. Sasha’s already reaching for a slice of cake before the candles are even blown out.

Ymir bumps her shoulder into Historia’s, smirking. “Think he wished for a threesome?”

Historia gasps, half laughing, half scolding. “Ymir!”

Armin claps way too enthusiastically, nearly knocking over his drink. “You only turn twenty one once!”

Bertoldt just stands there smiling nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with his hands.

Reiner throws an arm over his shoulders and yells, “Speech! Speech!” to no one in particular.

Annie gives the whole scene a look like she can’t believe she agreed to come, arms crossed, deadpan expression locked in place.

And Marco? He’s standing near Jean, eyes flicking between you and Eren like he definitely feels the shift in the room but says nothing. Just sips his drink slowly, quietly supportive, politely pretending he doesn’t see Jean’s jaw tighten.

And in the middle of it all? Eren leans in, blows out the candles in one slow breath, and when the cheering dies down, he looks at you.

Not at the cake. Not at Mikasa nor the camera.

You.

And Jean sees it.

He’s not looking at the candles. Not at the cake. Not at the way the wax drips down onto the frosting.

He’s looking at you. At how you smile back, maybe a little surprised, maybe a little flattered. At how you tilt your head just slightly. At how pretty you look in that dress, in his hoodie earlier that you took off inside.

Jean’s grip tightens around the drink in his hand.

“Dude,” a low voice says beside him.

He doesn’t turn, but Marco’s standing there. He's close enough to see Jean’s jaw clench, close enough to know that Jean’s about two seconds from making a scene.

“You good?” Marco asks quietly, tilting his head. He’s not trying to provoke, just… checking. Being Marco.

Jean swallows hard. Forces a sharp breath.

“I’m fine.”

Marco raises an eyebrow. “You don’t look fine.”

Jean finally turns toward him, his voice low. “He looked at her like he made a wish about her.”

Marco says nothing at first. He just looks at him, then glances toward you across the room, laughing with Sasha and swatting Eren’s hand away as he offers you a slice of cake.

“Do you trust her?” Marco asks gently.

Jean doesn’t hesitate. “I do.”

“Then act like it.”

A beat of silence.

Then Jean nods once, jaw still tight. “Yeah. We’re heading out.”

Marco watches him for a second longer, then just claps him on the back once. “Drive safe.”

Jean doesn’t answer. He’s already moving.

He crosses the room toward you, brushing past a half drunk Connie and side stepping Mikasa, who’s still editing Eren’s birthday pics.

You look up just in time to see him, eyebrows lifting when he reaches you.

His voice is low, lips brushing your ear as he leans in, warm breath against your skin.

“Let’s go.”

You blink. “Already?”

You tilt your head, half laughing, thinking he’s joking. The party’s still going. Sasha’s still stealing frosting with her fingers. Eren’s refilling drinks. You just got here not even two hours ago.

Jean straightens up, hands slipping casually into his pockets. Too casual. His jaw’s still tight beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” he says, voice even. “I’m kind of over it.”

You squint at him, reading between the lines. “Over… the party?”

“Mhm.”

You arch a brow. “Everything okay?”

Jean flashes a tight smile. Polite, charming, but you know him too well. There’s something simmering behind his eyes. A little possessiveness. A little frustration. All wrapped up in his usual cool front.

“I just figured we’d leave before everyone gets sloppy. Beat the traffic, you know?”

You laugh. “It’s past midnight, babe. What traffic?”

He doesn’t answer that. Just takes your drink gently from your hand, sets it down on the table behind you, and says, “Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.”

That line makes your heart skip. Your stomach twist.

Because now you feel it. The heat in his voice. The low gravel in those last few words. He’s not just ready to go.

He needs to.

And something about the way his eyes flick past you, towards Eren, who’s still laughing in the kitchen. It tells you exactly why.

Still, he turns to the group with a casual wave. “We’re heading out.”

“Oh? Already?” Armin asks, brows lifting.

“You guys are no fun,” Connie groans. “This is peak party hour.”

Sasha’s mid mouthful of cake when she blurts, “Text when you get home!”

Ymir grins lazily from her spot on the couch. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s a long list,” Historia mutters.

Mikasa gives a quiet nod. “Thanks for coming.”

Eren lifts his drink. “Later, man.”

Jean nods back but doesn’t linger.

And you, still half bewildered, half intrigued, grabbed your purse, smile sweetly, and followed him out the door.

Jean’s quiet as you walk out together, a soft breeze ruffling his hoodie. You tug his sleeve, sensing the storm behind his silence.

“Jean,” you murmur, “don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting.”

You step in front of him. “You’re pouting.”

Jean scoffs, brow lifting. “Pouting? No, I’m just thrilled my girlfriend spent half the night giggling next to Eren ‘it’s-my-birthday-look-at-me’ Jaeger. Whom by the way, nearly blew his candles directly into her face like it was some kind of mating ritual.”

You blink, holding back a laugh. “Blew out his candles onto my face? Mating ritual? Jean—”

“Looked like he was blowing a wish right into your damn eyes.”

“Eren always looks like that.”

Jean scoffs, walking ahead again. “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

You smirk, hands on your hips. “What are you gonna do, leave me here?”

He doesn’t even answer. He just keeps walking, pulls out his keys, unlocks his car, and actually gets in. Engine roars to life.

“…You’re seriously leaving me?” you shout, jogging after him.

His window rolls down slowly. That smug, jealous grin already back on his face.

“Better run, baby.”

You huff, yank the passenger door open, and slide in. “You are so dramatic.”

The car ride is tense. Silent. But not the angry kind, the hot kind. His hand is on your thigh the whole time, thumb dragging slow circles while he keeps his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed ahead. Your dress is riding higher than it should, and he knows it.

"Baby?" You inquired.

"Yeah?"

“You jealous?” you finally whisper, breaking the silence.

Jean doesn’t even look at you. “Nah.”

“You sure?”

Silence. Then...

“You wanna act like you’re not mine?” he says lowly, voice tight. “You wanna smile at him like that?”

“Jean—”

He doesn’t respond. Just presses harder on the gas, the engine growling beneath you, speed climbing with every second. His jaw’s clenched. Knuckles white around the steering wheel.

Then, without warning, he swerves into a side street.

The car jerks to a stop, thrown into park so fast it rocks you forward. Your heart jumps with it and before you can even catch your breath, he leans back in his seat, spreads his thighs wide, and taps them once.

A silent command.

You stare at him for a second, your pulse skipping.

He doesn’t say a word. He’s waiting. Testing.

And instead of arguing, instead of playing coy, you reach for your seatbelt with a soft click, unbuckling yourself. Then his.

Jean’s brows twitch. “What—”

But before he can finish, you’re already climbing over the console, dress riding up your thighs as you swing one leg, then the other, until you’re straddling him. Hovering over his lap, face inches from his. Your lips brush his jaw when you whisper. “I’m making it up to you.”

His hands come up when you land on his lap, your palms bracing on his shoulders for balance. But, they stop just short of gripping you, hovering like he doesn’t know what to do now that you’ve flipped the game.

Then, slowly, they settle on your sides. Warm, heavy, a little too firm. His fingers twitch, jaw clenched like he’s trying to hold back. But he can’t.

His hands slide down, dragging over your hips, then to your thighs. He palms them once. Tight and grounding before slipping underneath your dress with no hesitation.

His touch finds the curve of your lingerie, fingertips grazing the edge where soft fabric meets skin.

You feel the air shift when he hooks a finger around the strap and toys with it lazily, almost like a threat. Not saying a word yet, just letting the silence stretch while his thumb rubs slow, calculated circles against your inner thigh.

Still pissed. Still simmering.

But definitely starting to give in.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you murmur, lips ghosting over his ear. “The looks? The pouting?”

“Wasn’t pouting.”

You smile against his neck. “You were sulking.”

And then you kiss him. Soft at first, almost sweet. But it builds fast. You cup his jaw, tilt his face up, and kiss him like you mean it, like you’re reminding him that there’s only him. That no one else gets this.

Jean groans, deep in his chest, fingers digging into your waist now. “You drive me fucking insane.”

You kiss down his jawline, your hands sliding under his hoodie, dragging it up just enough to feel the heat of his skin.

“You’re mine,” he mutters, voice low and sharp as your lips trail down to his neck. “You don’t get to look that good and not expect me to lose my mind.”

You suck a mark just under his jaw, slow and deliberate. “Good.”

“What?”

“I want people to know I’m yours,” you say against his throat before leaving another bruise shaped reminder. “So I’m gonna mark you too.”

His breath stutters. “Jesus, babe—”

You grind down again and he bucks up instinctively, the heat between you unbearable. Your dress is bunched around your thighs now, his hands sliding underneath, fingertips pressing into your thighs like he’s trying to anchor himself.

“You really wanna do this here?” he grits out, even as his hands are already sliding to your ass, pulling you flush against him.

You don’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, you reach down, grab the seat lever beside his thigh, and yank it with a firm click. The seat lurches back with a thud, giving you both just enough space. Your hips shift with the motion, knees digging into either side of him, dress riding up, heat pressed right against him now.

Jean’s eyes flicker, lips parted, breath shaky. “Oh, fuck me…”

You grin, wicked. “That’s the idea.”

You push your hips down against the bulge in his jeans, slow enough to make him feel every second of it. His hands clamp down on your thighs again, but he’s not guiding you. He’s barely holding on.

You slide your hands under the hem of your dress, dragging it up over your thighs, your hips, then off completely, letting the soft fabric crumple somewhere on the floor by the pedals. All that’s left is a lacy black bra and matching panties that make Jean swear under his breath.

“You’re actually gonna kill me,” he mutters, eyes raking over you like he doesn’t know where to look first. “Fucking hell, baby…”

You straddle him again, hovering, arms around his neck, the heat between your bodies practically burning through your skin. His hands trace the curve of your bare waist, thumbs grazing under the edge of your bra.

“Thought you were mad,” you tease, lips brushing his.

“I am mad,” he breathes. “Mad that you look like this and I had to watch every guy at that party stare like they had a chance.”

"Not true. So dramatic."

"Fuck Jaeger."

He tugs you down against his lap and your hips rock instinctively, the friction already driving you wild.

You kiss him, slow and possessive before reaching between your bodies to undo his belt, pop the button, pull his zipper down. He hisses when your knuckles brush him through his boxers. He’s already so hard, straining, twitching at just your touch.

His hips lift and you help him shove his jeans and briefs low enough, letting his cock spring free, flushed and leaking. You wrap your hand around him, stroking once, twice, and Jean bites down on a moan.

“You like making me jealous, huh?” he pants into your neck. “Standing there in this little dress, acting like you don’t know what you’re doing?”

You moan softly against his mouth. “Didn’t mean to.”

“Bullshit.” His lips trail down your neck, sucking hard, leaving a mark that makes you gasp. “You’re mine. You wanna smile like that, you do it for me.”

You line him up with your entrance and sink down slowly, the stretch sharp and addicting, dragging a gasp from both of you as he fills you inch by inch.

Jean’s head falls back, breath ragged. “Holy shit. You feel..fuck..baby, you feel so good.”

You stay still for a second, savoring the fullness, your muscles tightening around him while your body adjusts. His hands roam your body greedily. Palming your breasts through your bra, tracing the dip of your spine, gripping your hips like he’ll break you in half if you even think about pulling away.

You start to move, slow, grinding circles that make him groan helplessly into your mouth. Your rhythm builds gradually, pace quickening, hips rolling harder as your thighs burn from the effort.

Jean’s eyes are locked on you now. Watching the way you fall apart. Watching the way his cock disappears into you, over and over again.

“You wanna act like you’re not mine?” he growls, matching your thrusts with bruising force. “Then you better make it up to me.”

Your lips crash into his again. Sloppier now, wetter, all tongue and teeth and broken gasps. He yanks your bra strap down your shoulder, exposing one breast and sucking the skin right beneath your collarbone, hard enough to leave a second mark.

“You really want people looking at you like that?” he mumbles against your skin. “Fine. But they’ll see these too.”

You let out a needy, wrecked sound, your hand flying to his shoulder for support as your pace grows erratic.

“Jean—I’m close—”

“Then come,” he growls, thrusting up into you now, his grip vice like on your waist. “Come all over my cock. Let them all know who you fucking belong to.”

That’s all it takes.

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. Your entire body locks up, thighs trembling, head thrown back as you moan his name. Loud, raw, his. He holds you tight, working you through it, still pounding up into you until his own climax slams into him seconds later.

“Fuck, fuck—I’m gonna—”

He groans, spilling inside you with a few desperate, sloppy thrusts, hips twitching uncontrollably. His hands are trembling on your waist, his forehead resting against your chest as he rides it out.

And then everything goes quiet.

Your chest heaves against his. Sweat beads between your shoulder blades, your thighs aching from how hard you rode him. His hands are still on you, gentle now, thumbs brushing slow circles over your skin.

You’re both exhausted. Breathless. Fucked stupid.

Jean’s voice is rough when he finally speaks.

“You’re such a menace,” he mumbles, eyes half lidded.

You laugh, voice hoarse. “Still mad?”

“…Maybe a little.”

You kiss his temple, still catching your breath. “Round two at my place?”

He groans, voice rough and half gone. “Get off me before I crash the car on purpose.”

But you don’t.

Instead, you collapse against him. Your chest against his, face buried into the crook of his neck. Your bodies are still tangled, skin damp, your thighs trembling from how hard you rode him. Jean’s hands are resting low on your back, his breath still uneven, but slowing.

Neither of you speak for a moment.

Your foreheads rest together, noses brushing.

He’s the one who leans up to kiss you this time, gentle, lips slow and swollen and tasting faintly of your lip gloss. No hunger, no fire. Just something close and quiet. An apology, maybe. Or a thank you.

You smile against his mouth.

“You’re tired,” you murmur.

He sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “You wore me out.”

You laugh softly. “And you were gonna drive, you say?”

He groans again, slumping further into the seat. “Babe… don’t make me move. Give me a few minutes.”

You press a kiss to his jaw. “Then don’t.”

“…Huh?”

Still straddling his lap, you shift. Legs carefully maneuvering, hips lifting just enough so you can turn yourself around. Still on top of him. Still in your lingerie. But now, you're facing the steering wheel.

Jean blinks as you adjust, his hands automatically finding your waist, pulling you back against his chest like you belong there.

You pop your knuckles once, stretch slightly, and murmur, “Scoot your legs a little." Thank heavens, Jean was compliant. "There, thank you.” Then your fingers find the key in the ignition.

Jean raises an eyebrow, nose nudging behind your ear. “You’re driving?”

You shoot him a look over your shoulder. “You said you were tired.”

"You’re wearing lingerie,” he mutters, eyes flicking down like he just remembered he yanked the strap down earlier.

Before you can say anything, his hands are on you again. One tugging your bra back into place with a low grunt, the other splaying wide across your chest like he’s shielding you from the world, or maybe just claiming you all over again.

“You’re exposed,” he says, teasing but lowkey serious. “You trying to give the windshield a show?”

You smirk, shifting slightly in his lap. “Relax. I’m also wearing you.”

You lean in closer, voice dropping with a grin.

“Out.”

“…Shit. You’re right.”

He lets out a lazy, helpless laugh as you adjust the seat forward slightly. His arms wrap around your middle, locking over your stomach like a seatbelt, chin resting on your shoulder.

“I swear to god if we get pulled over,”

“Then maybe the cop can thank me for keeping your road rage in check.”

He chuckles, breath warming your skin. “I’m never letting you drive again.”

“Yes, you will.”

He doesn’t argue. Just hums into your neck and holds you tighter.

The road is mostly empty on the way back. You drive slow, one of Jean’s arms still wrapped tight around you, his hand tucked under your bra like he’s claiming his prize. You’re still slightly dazed, buzzing from everything that happened but the silence is calm now. Heavy. Satisfied.

The car hums softly beneath you as you drive, the city lights casting slow moving shadows across your bare thighs. You’re still in his lap, steering with careful hands, focused on the road ahead, but Jean’s clearly not over it.

His arms stay wrapped tight around your waist, his chest warm against your back like he doesn’t want a single inch of space between you. And every so often, he leans in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder. Then the back of your neck. Then just beneath your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

You shiver, biting back a noise. “Jean…”

He doesn’t answer. Just keeps kissing. Keeps touching. His hands shift again, slowly this time. One sliding from your waist… down between your thighs.

You tense slightly as his fingers toy with the edge of your panties, brushing past the lace, knuckles grazing over the sensitive heat between your legs.

A gasp slips out before you can stop it.

“Jean—” your voice stutters, one hand tightening on the wheel. “Stop. I’m driving.”

But he just laughs softly against your skin, fingers teasing, lazy, practiced, already making your breath hitch.

“…Still mad?” you whisper, barely able to hide the tremble.

Jean smirks, thumb brushing maddeningly close. “Yeah. Still mad. Gonna need round two to fix it.”

Your whole body throbs at the promise in his voice.

You bite your lip, cheeks burning, your voice strained as you try to keep it cool. “Good thing I’m driving us home.”

His mouth finds your neck again, lips curling into a grin.

“Better hurry, then.”

[seokgyuu]

Adult actor!Jihoon who fucks you so hard on camera, it leaves you wanting more long after your scene together. Hehe. 💕💕😮‍💨

a/n: well hello there nana!!! thank you sm for this request, it was a lot of fun to write, hehe. I tried to care a bit less about plot with this one to see how i feel about it and i actually like the way this turned out, so i hope you enjoy to <3 ily!!

PAIRING: PornStar!Jihoon(Woozi) x PornStar!Reader

GENRE: Smut, MDNI!

WARNINGS: no pronouns but female anatomy described, penetrative unprotected sex (loads of it), mentions of tit fucking and squirting, degradation (usage of the words: whore and slut), multiple orgasms, begging, dirty talk

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

Smut after the cut!

The cameras had already left, just like the people who operated them. The light crew had long ago packed everything up and the director had yelled cut ages ago.

Yet the squeaking of the cheap bed was still echoing through the room, accompanied by your endless cries and moans, your whimpers and screams and Jihoon loved every second of it. He was on top of you, probably for the fifth time in three hours. Before, you had been filming your new piece: a cheap motel for which the slutty student sadly couldn’t pay and so the owner took it upon himself to offer them another way to pay for his generosity to let them stay. It had started with you sucking his enormous cock, your eyes so wide and innocent when you saw it, your mouth looking oh-so good around his length. Then, he had taken it upon himself to fuck your tits, leaving a trail of cum before moving to the next position that was you on top of him. Both of you had taken a few breaks between takes, had eaten and gotten a glass of water. Exhaustion came easy with the job. 

To make a long story short, after several takes that had your cunt dripping for him, your orgasms coming more often than they didn’t, your cum already all over his abdomen, his cock, his thighs, the sheets, you still weren’t done with him, still weren’t ready to let go off him and his perfect cock. So, now you were on your back, your legs hanging over Jihoon’s shoulders as he fucked into you at drastic speed.

“Ngh- J-Jihoon! G-Gonna cum!” You cried out, actual tears running over your face and when Jihoon pressed his thumb onto your soaked, overstimulated clit, your legs straightened up into the air, toes curled. You honestly had lost count of the orgasms this man had brought you tonight. 

“Such a needy little whore, are you finally satisfied or do I need to fuck your pussy a little longer?” Jihoon’s words made your already pulsating pussy throb even harder, a sob  leaving you as you shook your head, back arching.

“M-More, want you to fill me up, please!”

Jihoon chuckled at your plea, having already expected this answer. The perks of being a trained adult film actor was the ability to cum many times in one night, his orgasms maybe not being as intense over time, but still giving you what you want: his cum. He leaned forward, his cock hitting your sweet spot like it had so many times before and his hand wandered to your sweaty and cum stained tits, squeezing them hard as he picked up the pace once more. He felt the way your cunt clenched around him, how even in its exhausted state it wanted to milk him for all he had.

“Fuck, your insatiable, aren’t you? How many times have I filled up your slutty cunt by now, hm? And you still don’t have enough?” His hips drilled into yours, your eyes rolled back into your skull, back arched against his touch, mouth hanging open as you moaned loudly, just the way Jihoon liked it. He licked his lips, watching the way your body reacted to his thrusts, to his words. You whimpered when you felt him press down on your nipple, when you felt him pinch into it.

“Can never get e-enough of your cum, Ji!” Your words made his cock twitch, leaking inside you as he groaned, leaning forward even more to bury his head into your neck, sucking on the salty skin. Your hands found the back of his neck then, nails digging into his skin, your legs still over his shoulders and now also over your head and silently you thanked yourself for the endless yoga classes to become more flexible for the job.

Jihoon’s groans caused your blood to pump harder, your back to arch higher and your nails to dig deeper, everything about his sounds making you want to keep going forever.

But when he moved back down, thumb pressing on your abused clit, there wasn’t much you could do besides coming for the nth time that night. Your body spasmed, high pitched, uncontrollable pleas of his name escaping you as your hips moved quicker against his, your pulsating pussy finally bringing him over the edge too - his cum shooting right into your already filled cunt. 

“Fuck!” Your voice was strained and your chest was heaving, your arms dropping down onto the bed as Jihoon practically collapsed on top of you. Both of your legs slipped off his shoulders, making small thumb noises as they fell onto the mattress. It took the two of you a while to regain composure, Jihoon still buried inside you. Your eyes were closed and you felt his cum inside of you, felt the warmth of it. You also felt that Jihoon wasn’t exactly shrinking. Your eyelids fluttered open, Jihoon’s head still between your shoulder and neck and as you were about to speak, his hips thrusted and your words turned into a squeak.

“Can’t believe, I fucked you a fucking million times already but my cock just can’t get enough of your pussy, shit.” Jihoon’s hips moved frantically now, your eyes rolling back as your pussy sucked him in once more, your body flat on the bed, as he had his way with you, fucking into your spent hole.

“J-Jihoon, pl-please-,” at this point you weren’t even sure what you were begging for anymore. Another orgasm? For him to use you? 

“Just one more, baby, fuck, just need to fill you up one more time, alright? Your cunt is just too good, so fucking good.”

His tongue lapped at your neck, shivers running down your spine as you nodded, hands now moving to his back, nails digging into it. There were already a few very visible marks left by your nails on his back and you didn’t think it’d matter if there were a few more added to the canvas. Jihoon’s heavy breath hit your skin over and over again as he fucked into you, no sense of control, only urgency. His cock was hurting from how hard he still was and how much he needed the final blow and when he felt your pussy squeeze him hard, he moaned your name, cock twitching repeatedly.

“Cum for me, Ji, please, fuck, need your cum so bad!” 

Your voice was what got him over the final edge, the real finale edge this time. Cum shot out of his cock, warming your walls and painting them in a pretty white, your pussy overflowing with his juices and now he finally began to soften. 

“Holy fucking hell.” Jihoon pulled out of you, instead plopping onto his back next to you. Both of you were drenched in sweat and bodily fluids, his and your release now dripping out of your core and onto the already dirty sheets. 

“Too bad there weren’t any cameras around, people would eat this shit up,” you said, grinning at him. Jihoon chuckled.

“Nah, baby, this was only for our eyes.” 

[failedmyturingtest]

Kamome Shirahama Leipziger Buchmesse Interview and Live Drawing Session Summary

After being slated to attend in 2020 (and then not being able to for obvious reasons) Kamome Shirahama has finally come to the Leipziger Buchmesse as a guest of honour!

She did a number of signing sessions as well as a live-drawing/interview last weekend that I was lucky enough to attend :) here’s the promised protocol/summary from the notes I took!

Keep in mind that this is all translated from German and that the order of the last couple of questions may have gotten switched because I couldn’t take anymore notes. Sorry! Her drawing process is the same as for all her previous shikishi, so I’ll omit it here and only mention it if explicit questions were asked about it. (brackets include my own observations)

Interview under the cut!

29.03.2025 14:00

The crew of Egmont Manga, Witch Hat’s german publisher sets up the stage, a Brushbug is brought out and placed on the table! The crowd cheers. Little party hats printed with the apprentice's hat design were handed out and roughly 70% of the crowd is wearing them. Some of the cosplayers in attendance stacked them on top of the witch hat's they're already wearing.

Shirahama-Sensei arrives with a second Brushbug. She’s wearing her usual Iguin hat! She says the hat makes it difficult to see. It was made for her by a friend and she loves wearing it. Upon being asked if she also wears it at home she laughs and says that no, it would break the magic.

Why education as a theme? Does she have a background in Pedagogy? No, but she liked the idea of small atelier groups where teachers can cater individually to their students’ needs.

What was her Inspiration? She has a lot of Mangaka friends whom she exchanges ideas and shares issues with. Many of her ideas come from these exchanges. Many of them, like Olruggio have issues with deadlines (the crowd laughs)

Does she have issues with deadlines? Sometimes it feels like the deadlines are rivals to be battled!

Biggest inspiration for her art? Her travels! For example to Germany. This is her second time here. The first time she was in Germany to attend the Kaltenberger Ritterturnier (world’s largest renfaire) during 2018, which was around the beginning of WHA! She gave the photos she took there to the anime team for inspiration and reference of what she wanted certain things to look like. (I’ve attached a trailer of the 2018 event to the bottom of this post)

Can she reveal anything about the anime? (She makes a “shush” motion and shakes her head. The crowd goes “aww”.) She can’t reveal anything about the anime but she can say that she cried while watching the first impressions.

The spells are so complex! Do they ever give her difficulty? She has to check previous volumes for reference. Sometimes she feels exactly like coco learning sigils for the first time.

What Marker is she using? Marker of the Japanese Brand Mar—(I couldn’t hear this part properly, It’s the same thick, black marker she always uses!) “It can do everything! ;)”

Upon being asked if her ink is magical As long as you don’t draw sigils, nothing happens- so who knows, maybe it is ;) (of course you couldn't see her wink, but it was very heavily implied, haha)

Favourite character to draw and write? Brushbug!!! (She picks up Brushbug to shake him around under the camera) Coco and qifrey take longer, and she loves drawing them, but she thinks she can draw Brushbug blind at this point.

What does she do in her spare time? She reads books, manga, and watches anime and movies! If not that then she’s spending time with her Dogs! If they want her attention the older will subtly drape his toys around her and the younger will nudge her drawing arm.

Favourite outfits she’s designed? she likes all the Long cloaks

What are her dogs called? (Sneeze) porter and Bellman! (“Not Gesundheit”)

Her favourite thing to draw? The details! Sometimes they’re easier to draw once she’s had a beer so she’ll save them for when she’s had some alcohol. When she’s done with most of the drawing and it’s time for the details she gets really happy that it’s almost complete and might even start singing and dancing (she demonstrates a cute little shimmy after being asked if it isn’t difficult to draw while dancing)

Does she hoard stationery? She loves buying stationery on vacation and has a lot of it. She really appreciates German cosmetics and stationery so she already had a connection to Germany. (The MC (employee of witch hat’s German publisher) says that they went to a stationery store with her earlier and she already bought a bunch of faber Castel and Steadtler supplies)

How long does it take her to finish a chapter? 7-10 days for the drawing (this one rightfully gets a lot of “whoas” from the crowd). Plotting takes the most time.

Does she ever forget the details of her own character designs? Yes, sometimes she makes mistakes (Olruggio cosplayers will know the Tassel Dilemma lol)

Does she have everything planned out already? She knows how the story will end, but getting there sometimes feels like a video game where you have to make a choice between path A and B. The ending is fixed, but the path there might diverge a little.

Describe Qifrey and Olruggio's relationship in one word? Impossible. It’s very difficult because they’re best friends, but Qifrey also has these secrets. So something might happen between them later on (ominous) (Upon the MC saying that it sounds like it would take many volumes to explore this) Yes it would take many more volumes to explore their relationship

What inspired her to depict so many disabled characters? She doesn’t set out specifically to write a character that has x disability or "diverse trait" (the translator struggled a bit here). She thinks that diversity should be part of every day life and considered normal, so she weaves characters that happen to be and disabled into her story so that this may one day be the case. (This got a lot of applause and cheering :))

How does she decide what to draw for Shikishi? She gets a lot of chances to draw shikishi, so she has a bunch of ideas ready to go that she can choose from on a whim. She says she decided to draw two characters today because so many German fans showed up.

Favourite manga? She has a lot of manga she loves. Currently, she is really enjoying Medalist.

And that was the End of the Interview! Shirahama-Sensei drew Coco and Qifrey with Brushbug with an elaborate frame. I haven't been able to find a photo of the finished piece, but if I do, I'll reblog it with this post!

The official trailer for the 2018 Kaltenberger Ritterturnier:

[neighbourscat]

౨౿ nicholas chavez who visits his black!girlfriend at abbott elementary — he’s startled by the documentary crew, almost dropping the box of rainbow-sprinkled donuts and container of chocolate-chip cookies he’d brought for your kindergarten students; today was move-up day and you asked him if he could use a few hours of his day-off and drop off their treats to congratulate. after he’s given an ‘abbott elementary visitors badge’, he’s dragged through the bustling hallways — walls decorated in brilliant hand-made drawings and banners, the noisy chatter of students, and the hustle of teachers — and into an empty classroom for a confessional; “wha .. what am i suppose to say here?” nicholas asked, adjusting the box of donuts and container of cookies . .. . he blinked into the camera lens, the grin on his face crooked, sheepish, and the look in his eyes that of a scared child.

౨౿ nicholas chavez who spots your classroom, room 220, and hurried toward it — the camera crew and principal ava coleman, heels clicking loudly, behind him — the sound of young laughter, meaningless conversations, and chairs scraping the floor growing louder. the door was slightly ajar, and through the small opening, he could see you — ms. y/l/n to the young humans — standing at the front of room, talking animatedly to your class of kindergartners. your smile lit up the space, and your long, knotless braids swung as you gestured toward the main entrance and exit.

nicholas smiled to himself, watching you in your element. this was the side of you he admired so much — the way you commanded the room full of children, the warmth you exuded when you taught or played around. he gripped the doorknob and- “me personally . .. . i would’ve just walked with me to the gymnasium.” his brown eyes found the camera lens again, letting the crew capture his frustrated expression. “look, there’s still time before those goblins actually start lining up -“ ava pleaded, “i’m telling you - you and i leave now, we can still make brunch at reno’s.”

nicholas stared at the crew again, begging them to do ‘something’, and then down at ava. “who watches these .. things?” he asked the principal, releasing the doorknob — he turned his body to face her fully, showing her that she had his attention .. ava smirked, proud and knowing, flipping back the cascade of jet-black hair that fell effortlessly around her shoulders. “all of america. why? scared to be seen with a woman this attractive?” she finished with a cheeky giggle, brows wiggling while looking into the camera — the confusion on his face has yet to fade. ava: “if you’re worried about being wrongfully perceived, don’t. your face is pretty, your body is tight - if your personality is bleep, the ladies at home won’t care. that’s how it is.” her hands gripped her hips, “you can be the bleep bleep person on the planet, but guess what? if you’re hot, you get screentime.”

just in time, your classroom door swung open — nicholas, relieved, nearly jumped out of his skin. at the sight of jabrieah, your line-leader, peeking out of the door, ava quickly turned on her heels and rushed down the hall and turned the corner in a hurry — the camera angling in on her as she descended.

your kindergartners’ were in their graduation gowns; a vibrant shade of blue, charming and whimsical, and designed to celebrate the joyous milestone of young learners. their gowns were adorned with cheerful motifs, such as stars, balloons, and playful animals, which represented the joy and wonder of early education —

— “donuts! cookies!” malachi; the second in line, cheered, alerting you and the other children. gio; the teacher-helper and aiden; the caboose ripped themselves from your hands and pushed through most of the line to reach nicholas first. and when your boyfriend met your disappointed glare .. his shoulders dropped and he seemed to shrink into himself.

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

“okay, so, i asked nicholas - my boyfriend - if he could pick up my special order from lulu’s; the best pastry spot in philly, and swing by after the graduation. two nights ago, nic and i thought it would be cute to - to give them something else to look forward to after their ceremony,” you spoke into the camera, warm and bubbly — emphasis on ‘after’. “he’s just an hour early,” you continued, smile slowly falling, “which .. which isn’t so bad, necessarily, but .. y’know .. i had a surprise set in place for my kids. so . .. .” you blinked away and then back at the camera, tongue poking the inside of your cheek.

౨౿ nicholas chavez who helps mr. johnson, gregory eddie, janine teagues, and jacob hill stack the parent chairs away and against the gymnasium walls — making room for the fun festivities. the main camera was zoned in on ava; fixing her patterned blouse ( revealing more of her cleavage ) and watching the muscles in nicholas’ large arms flex and spasm. “that young man is spoken for ava.” barbara howard came into view. “this is your sixth reminder ..” the camera shifted up at barbara and then back to ava as she asked, without hesitation or much care; “be honest. completely. who looks better? me or y/n?”

barbara sighed deeply and gave her a gentle tap on the forearm. “come. come,” she urged kindly. “this way. come help me and melissa with the cotton candy machine.”

౨౿ nicholas chavez who watches tariq temple — like he’s headlining coachella, tariq’s wearing a gold chain that probably has a cartoon character on it, sunglasses indoors, and a loud glittering jacket with “kiddie class of swag” embroidered on the back — abbott elementary’s very own rapper, perform and jump around the gymnasium stage .. with an unsure look on his face. he wasn’t sure if he should move his body or remain still, for the message tariq had been spewing into the microphone was .. highly inappropriate for elementary school students; so wrong, yet undoubtedly catchy.

you, on the other-hand, had been loving it — rocking side to side with the thumping beat. the just-graduated children were dancing with their friends, the big-kids, and parents, tariq’s raps going into one ear and right out of the other.

“y’all, for real — remember when y’all couldn’t even color in the lines? look at you now! first grade's ‘bouta be a breeze .. except maybe the bleep math! yo, don’t let ‘em trip you up with that new bleep-bleep math. trust me, that bleep is’a damn scam!”

the camera zoomed in on you and nicholas; eyes widening in the crowd as you both winced — then, the crew quickly switched the attention to barbara and melissa schemmenti, who were in absolute disbelief, mouths opened and brows raised so high, seemingly stitched to their hairlines.

“nah yo! real talk, first grade ain’t no bleep joke. i heard they got y’all doin’ homework?! don’t be out here messin' with them trapper keepers!” janine stopped the sway of her hips, fully focused on tariq and his nonsense piece — jacob lost his smile, he and gregory too stunned, but ava .. unbothered.

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

“ayo, congrats to all the lil’ homies!” the camera crew had met with tariq backstage after his massive performance. “i can’t believe they graduated, like . ..” tariq clutched a hand over his still-racing heart, “they grown now, like for real. been around this school so damn long, i feel like they mine . .. . y’all feel’me?” no response from the crew. “do good bleep, homies!” tariq flashed his signature grin, showing off the gold-tooth plate and giving the camera a wink before strutting out of camera-view, arms lifted like he’d just performed at a sold-out stadium.