#they are rapidly becoming one of my favorite actors

[where-our-stories-start]

Bella Ramsey in Requiem (2021)

[pucksandpower]

La Regina

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader

Summary: a girl raised at her father’s knee goes from rising star to princess to queen (or in which becoming a legend runs in the Schumacher family)

You bounce excitedly in the passenger seat of your papa’s car as he pulls into the parking lot of the karting track. At 5-years-old, you’re too young to race officially, but he promised to let you drive some practice laps after the scheduled competition today.

“Remember, Maus, listen closely to the instructors and stay safe out there,” Michael says, ruffling your hair affectionately before getting out.

You scramble out after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides across the parking lot. You reach to take his hand, but freeze when a small crowd starts converging around your papa. Men in bright vests are rushing over, cameras flashing rapidly.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” You ask, startled by the commotion.

Before Michael can respond, a curly-haired woman thrusts a baby into his arms. “Oh my god, can you just hold her for one second? I need a picture!”

Your papa looks bewildered but graciously cradles the infant, giving an awkward smile as more and more people start shoving pieces of paper and pens in front of him.

“Excuse me, please, I have my daughter with me today,” he tries saying over the chaos, but no one is listening.

You shrink back, overwhelmed by the pushing crowd and flurry of voices pleading for autographs and photos. Where did all these people come from? This has never happened before when you’ve gone karting with your papa.

Sensing your unease, Michael gently passes the baby back to its mother and kneels down in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay, Maus. Why don’t you wait for me over there?” He gestures to a bench off to the side.

Part of you wants to cling to him, scared of all the strangers crowding around so aggressively. But you also don’t want him to have to worry about you on top of everything else. You nod bravely and make your way through the throng to the little bench, watching apprehensively as your papa tries politely handling the requests.

After what feels like forever, the crowd finally starts dispersing, though a few linger behind like stubborn cats begging for scraps. Michael shakes the last few hands and accepts some papers to sign before gratefully escaping over to you.

“I’m so sorry about that, Maus,” he says, looking apologetic as he plops down on the bench. “I didn’t expect such a scene on what’s supposed to be our fun day.”

“It’s okay, Papa.” You lean against his side, still a bit rattled but comforted by his familiar warmth. “Who were all those people? Why did they want your … uhh …“ You can’t quite remember the word for the scribbles people ask famous people for.

“Autographs,” Michael supplies with an amused chuckle, wrapping an arm around you. “And they wanted photos too, I suppose. I’m … well, I’m quite a famous racecar driver.”

You cock your head, trying to process this concept of your papa being some kind of celebrity. As far as you’re concerned, he’s just your goofy, loving dad who takes you karting and makes the silliest voices for all your stuffed animals at home.

“Really? Like the famous famous people on TV?” You’ve seen the paparazzi swarming the actors and musicians during awards shows, but you’d never imagined that could happen to your own papa.

Michael nods, drawing you closer with a squeeze. “Yes, somewhat like that, though it’s a bit excessive at a small karting event.” He laughs again and brushes some of your wayward hair from your face. “But you’re right, to you I’m just Papa. I don’t expect anything more from my favorite Maus.”

You beam at the affectionate nickname, all the earlier stress melting away. Who cares if strangers want your papa’s autograph or photos? All that matters is you two spending the day together like always.

“Can we go get our karts now?” You ask eagerly, bouncing a little on the bench. “I want to show you how fast I can go!”

“Of course!” Michael jumps up and scoops you into his arms with a playful growl, making you shriek giddily. “My little speed demon is going to leave me in the dust.”

He swings you up onto his shoulders and you cling on tightly as he strides toward the pit area. A few more people spot him and make a move closer with cameras and sharpies extended, but seem to think better of it when they see you perched up high.

The two of you spend the next couple hours karting together, trading places taking warm up laps and cheering each other on. At one point, a young attendant working the pit area approaches Michael somewhat nervously.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Schumacher?” He’s clutching a crumpled baseball cap in one hand, ducking his head shyly. “I’m just such a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo and signing this for me after your session?”

Your papa smiles kindly at the young man and takes the cap. “Not at all, no problem.” As the attendant walks away, looking elated, Michael turns to you with a wink. “See? That’s how you politely ask for an autograph.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t let the fame go to my head when I’m a famous racecar driver too someday.”

Scooping you up once more, Michael presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, last few laps — let’s see who can go the fastest without ending up in the grass!”

As evening starts falling, the two of you make your way back through the now nearly deserted lot after returning the rental karts. Most of the other karters have cleared out, leaving just you two strolling unhurriedly back to the car.

“Well Maus, despite the, uh, overexcited fans, I’d call this day a success,” Michael says, swinging your joined hands idly. “We both had our fun on the track, and I think you handled that crowd back there like a champ.”

You smile up at him, still so proud just to be his daughter. “I don’t care about all those other people, papa. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”

Stopping beside the car, Michael crouches down and cups your face in his calloused racing palms, looking at you with such fierce adoration.

“Maus, you have me, always. No matter what happens out there,” he gestures vaguely at the empty track, “When I’m with you, I’m just Papa. My greatest accomplishment, my biggest award, is being your father. Verstanden?”

You launch yourself into his arms, hugging as tightly as you can. “Verstanden, Papa. I love you.”

“Ich liebe dich mehr, Maus,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your hair. “Now, what do you say we go get some victory ice cream?”

As the two of you climb into the car, you can’t keep the smile off your face, practically glowing with contentment. Sure, maybe your papa is some big famous racecar driver that everybody wants a piece of. But really, he’s just your papa — and you’re his whole world.

***

The ringing of the house phone cuts through the tense silence like a knife. You shrink further into the couch cushions as your mother rushes to answer it, shoulders visibly taut.

“Hello? No, I cannot make any comment at this time. Yes, I understand there is interest but-” Corinna breaks off, rubbing her temples wearily. “Please respect our privacy as a family right now. Thank you.”

She hangs up and leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. Before she can even draw a full breath, the phone rings again, shrill and insistent. With a muffled curse, your mother snatches it up.

“What? I told you, I cannot give any statements! This is a private matter. How did you even get this number?”

You watch apprehensively as she responds again, her voice rising in distress. In the days since your papa’s skiing accident, it seems like the entire world has been hounding your family, desperate for any scrap of information.

On the TV across the room, the endless cycle of news reports drones on lowly. Images of your papa’s broken, still body being rushed from the slopes into a helicopter. Flashing advancer texts speculating on his chances of recovery from the traumatic head injury.

It makes you feel ill.

Beside you on the couch, Mick sits blank-faced, looking nearly as pale and worn as your mother. At 14, he understands the gravity of the situation all too well. Your big brother has always idolized your papa, hoping to follow in his racing footsteps one day as well. The thought of him not being there to see the realization of that dream is devastating.

Gina is curled up in the armchair, her shoulders shaking every so often with muffled sobs. At 16, she’s arguably been taking this the hardest of all you kids. She keeps her face stoically dry in front of your mother, but you can see how red and puffy her eyes are from constant crying.

As for you, at 11-years-old, you’re somehow both numb and feeling everything all at once. Part of you still can’t fully process that this nightmare is real. That your hero, your papa, could be lying comatose in a hospital, hovering between life and death. The other part of you is overwhelmed in a tsunami of terror, panic, anger, sadness — any and every emotion crashing through you at all hours.

“Kids, I’m so sorry about this,” your mother says, defeated, as she rejoins you in the living room after ending her latest call. The bags under her eyes seem to have deepened further overnight. “I know this is incredibly difficult and intrusive. But your papa is … he’s a public figure. People are concerned.”

“Incredibly insensitive is what they’re being,” Gina spits, uncurling herself from the chair enough to shoot your mother a resentful look. “We’re going through actual hell and all these people care about is getting a sound bite for the evening news!”

Corinna looks pained but doesn’t rebuke her. “I know, liebling, I know. But your papa has millions of fans all over the world who have followed his career for decades. Whether we like it or not, they care about him … and about us by extension.”

You think back to that day at the karting track all those years ago when you first realized your papa was what people called “famous”. How all those strangers clamored around him so aggressively just for a photo or an autograph. That level of fandom seemed exciting and novel at the time, when you were just a naïve 5-year-old. Now you see it for how intrusive and violating it is, this sense of entitlement people have to the private life of a public figure.

The phone starts ringing again, shattering the fragile quiet. Your mother squeezes her eyes shut and makes no move to get it this time. After four rings, the call goes to voicemail. A moment later, the tinny sound of an Italian voicemail being left blares through the speaker.

“Scusi, scusi, please, if there is any update on the condition of the great Michael Schumacher, any information at all! We are all holding vigils and saying prayers, but we must know how he fares! The world is watching and waiting!”

The words, pleading and demanding all at once, are like a slap across your face. The man’s voice is laced with such desperation, as if your papa’s life is mere entertainment to be consumedby the masses. You feel abruptly furious, incensed that a stranger’s morbid curiosity is given the same weight as your family’s anguish.

“Turn it off,” Mick mutters through clenched teeth, hunching over on the couch. “Just turn it off, Mama.”

Corinna nods numbly and reaches to end the voicemail, her mouth set in a grim line. Buzzing fills the room again as the TV drones on, the reporters’ voices a dull roar that you can no longer discern actual words from as your ears ring with white noise.

The shrill ringing of the phone cuts through once more, like a record scratching in your brain. Your mother flinches violently, hands coming up to clamp over her ears as she squeezes her eyes shut, finally at her breaking point.

Unable to watch this torture anymore, you surge to your feet and storm across the living room. You rip the phone from its cradle and hurl it against the far wall, the plastic casing shattering loudly. The ringing blessedly ends, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

Mick and Gina stare at you with wide, stunned eyes. Your mother simply deflates, sliding down the wall to the floor as the adrenaline drains from her body. For several beats, no one dares breathe too loudly. Then, Gina starts to shake her head slowly, tears slipping free.

“Brava,” she murmurs, the barest hint of approval in her voice.

Your mother doesn’t scold you for the outburst. She merely reaches out a hand, silently beckoning you closer until you slowly cross the room again and sink to your knees in front of her. She cups your face in her palms, her own cheeks glistening with fresh tears.

“You’re right, liebling, you’re right,” she whispers brokenly. “This is about our family, not … not the world thinking they’re owed something.”

She pulls your head against her shoulder and you cling to her tightly as she begins to weep in earnest, great shuddering sobs wracking her whole frame. Gina scrambles over and tucks herself against your mother’s other side, and soon all three of you are tangled in each other’s arms, letting the tidal wave of grief crest over you.

Mick stays frozen on the couch, watching over your huddle with dark, haunted eyes. For the first time since this ordeal began, the four of you are united in simply feeling, truly letting yourselves shatter. No more putting on brave faces or pretending to be okay — from this moment, you can finally grieve as a family behind closed doors, blockading out the rest of the cruel, prying world.

Later that evening, after crying yourselves into an exhausted stupor, you drift up the stairs and sequester yourself in your bedroom. You bypass the framed photos of your papa on your nightstand, the sight of his bright smile and twinkling eyes too searing at the moment. Instead, you sink to your knees in the middle of the floor and clasp your hands tightly, bowing your head to murmur desperate pleas.

“Please, please let my papa be okay. I don’t care about all his fame or the stupid reporters. I just want him to get better and come home to us. He’s not just the famous Michael Schumacher to me. He’s Papa. He’s my whole world.”

The words spill out in a torrent, all the fear and longing you’ve been bottling up for the better part of a week erupting forth. You plead to any higher power that may be listening, bargaining away your future, your dreams, anything — as long as your papa pulls through this nightmare.

How many times had you taken for granted those moments of him just being your dad — making you pancakes on Saturday mornings, dozing on the couch during family movie nights, playfully tossing you into the pool when you grew too whiny in the summer heat? You’d give anything to have those simple, precious daddy-daughter moments back.

“The world can have his trophies and titles,” you whisper fiercely, tears slipping free to patter on the carpet. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want my papa. Please, please bring him back to us.”

You curl in on yourself, forehead pressing into the floor as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. All the adoring fans, the fawning media, the hangers-on clamoring for a piece of his glory — they only know the manufactured public persona of Michael Schumacher, legendary racer and famous celebrity. But to you, he’s always just been the quiet hero tucking you into bed at night, the gentle presence reading stories in funny voices, the mighty protector pulling you in for all-encompassing bear hugs.

You miss that wonderful, silly, tender father more than anything in the world. You don’t give a damn about his racing accolades or his fame. You just desperately need your papa back home where he belongs — with his family, the people who loved and treasured him most as simply Michael.

Just Michael. Your one and only papa.

The raw ache of that longing consumes you utterly. You lay there amid the fading light from your bedroom windows, dreams and memories of your papa flickering behind your eyelids as you plead to any benevolent force that may be listening. All you want is the chance to make more joyful memories with him, to hear his rich laugh, to keep basking in his unconditional love for years and years to come.

Please, you beg the universe silently, one last time. Please let this nightmare end. Don’t let the brightest light in my world be extinguished before its time.

Let me have my papa back.

***

A tense hush has fallen over the dining room table, the clinking of utensils against plates the only sound cutting through the thick silence. Gina avoids everyone’s eyes, pushing food around her plate listlessly. Mick stares down at his half-eaten dinner, jaw working like he’s chewing over something weighty. You pick at a bread roll, too knotted with anxiety to muster much appetite.

Your mother is the one to finally break the stifling quiet, clearing her throat. “Kids, I know these last few weeks have been … incredibly difficult for us all.”

You risk a glance up at Corinna. Her eyes are tight at the corners, her mouth a taut line. Just like all of you, the constant vigil at your papa’s bedside, combined with the relentless badgering from the media, has clearly taken its toll.

“But we have to keep trying to be a family, yes?” She reaches across the table to grip your hand. “We’re all Michael has right now. We have to … to stick together for him.”

You nod numbly, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat at the reminder of your papa’s unchanged condition. The waiting, the not knowing if or when he’ll wake up, is a special kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mick abruptly shoves his plate away, the porcelain scraping loudly across the wood. You all flinch a little at the harsh sound.

“I’ve been thinking ...” he starts, then seems to reconsider his words, shoulders tightening fractionally. “Well, Y/N, you know how I … how I race under Mama’s last name?”

You frown slightly, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Betsch, yes. Because you wanted to make your own name without the expectation and pressure of being Michael Schumacher’s son.”

He dips his chin once, looking almost pained. “Exactly. And I think … I think maybe you should consider doing the same.”

The words sit heavy and convolulenting between you all like a sack of wet cement. You blink dumbly, hardly comprehending what he’s suggesting at first. When the implication hits you, you actually recoil as if he’d slapped you across the face.

“What? No. No, absolutely not, Mick. How can you even say that?”

“Y/N, just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “With Papa … with what happened, the paparazzi and the fans, they’re going to be watching our every move even more than before. Especially you since you’re planning to continue competing-”

“Don’t you dare make this about his condition,” you spit, fury thrumming through your veins like struck lightning. “And of course I plan to keep racing — it’s what Papa would want! I’m not going to hide from his name like it’s some shameful thing!”

Gina is watching the exchange with wide, startled eyes, her food forgotten. Mick runs an agitated hand through his hair, shaking his head firmly.

“It’s not about hiding or shame, it’s about protecting yourself! Don’t you see how crazy things have gotten? All the reporters harassing us, the fans leaving awful messages online hoping for updates ...”

He leans forward, expression almost desperate. “If you race as Betsch, you can compete without having that extra spotlight. You can just be a normal kid on the track without people peering in.”

Heat rushes up the back of your neck in waves of humiliation and rage. How dare he insinuate that inheriting your papa’s legacy is some kind of burden to be shrugged off? That the name Schumacher is a burden to bear rather than a badge of honor?

“I’m not you, Mick,” you bite out, fists clenching beneath the table. “Maybe racing under Mama’s name helped you deal with the pressure better and that’s fine. But I’m proud to be Michael Schumacher’s daughter! And if people can’t respect that, if they think it means they own a piece of me, then they can go to hell!”

“Language!” Your mother gasps, both appalled and slightly impressed. But you ignore her admonishment, too fired up to rein it in now.

“What, you think pretending to be someone else is going to spare me from living in Papa’s shadow anyway?” You shake your head adamantly, leaning across the table towards Mick. “It’s not, and you know it. Even if I raced under a fake name, everyone is still going to know exactly who I am and make comparisons.”

Slamming your palms on the table, you surge to your feet, chair screeching harshly against the floor. All the pain and uncertainty of these past few weeks is bubbling over into bitter, biting words.

“So why should I hide it? Why can’t I take pride in my name and my heritage? Maybe it’ll mean more scrutiny, but it’s a million times better than feeling like I have to be ashamed! Like I can’t fully honor Papa and make him proud!”

Chest heaving, you stare down a wide-eyed Mick, almost daring him to challenge you further. He seems to read the conviction blazing in your eyes, features softening into chagrin.

“You’re right ...” he murmurs with a wince. “You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

You hold his repentant gaze for a long moment before deflating back into your chair with a muted thud. In the ringing silence, you can hear your mother’s soft sniffles from the far end of the table. When you look over, she has her head bowed, hands pressed to her eyes as she cries quietly.

“M-Mama?” Gina ventures in a small voice, reaching across to grasp her mother’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Corinna lowers her hands, swiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. When she meets your bewildered gaze, her expression is a complicated brew of pride and heart-wrenching sadness.

“Nothing is wrong, liebling,” she assures Gina with a watery smile, before turning back to you. “Y/N, you’re so much like your papa, do you know that? So brave and determined … so full of that same fighting spirit.”

She dips her chin, lips trembling faintly. “He would be so proud to hear you defend his name like that. To see you ready to take on the weight of wearing it, regardless of what the world throws at you.”

More tears spill forth, but she brushes them away impatiently with the backs of her hands.

“But liebchen, you have to understand … Michael spent decades bearing that scrutiny and expectation. People analyzing his every move, always under a spotlight so harsh it burned. I never wanted that for any of you.”

Sliding her chair back, your mother crosses to kneel before you, cradling your face gently between her palms. Her eyes are shining but intensely serious, almost pleading with you.

“The Schumacher name casts such a long shadow, one so great that your own light can be eclipsed before you ever have a chance to properly shine. I don’t want you smothered by that burden, mein schatz. I want you free to make your own amazing mark on this world, completely unchained.”

You feel your throat grow tight at her words, the weight of them ringing so true and terribly sad. You reach up to circle your fingers around her wrists, holding her hands to your cheeks like vices.

“I know, Mama, I know,” you whisper roughly. “But that light you want me to shine? Papa is the one who sparked it inside me in the first place.”

You meet her watery gaze steadily, willing her to understand the conviction taking root inside you.

“The joy and passion I have for racing doesn’t come from some anonymous dream. It comes from him — from the nights he spent giving me a play-by-play of his biggest victories, from the days we spent at the karting tracks making memories, from everything I want so desperately to honor.”

Leaning forward until your brows nearly touch, you let the pleasing words spill out directly from your heart.

“So please, please don’t ask me to race as anyone other than your daughter, yes, but also proudly as Michael Schumacher’s daughter. That name isn’t a burden or a shadow to me. It’s something I want to carry forward and make blaze even brighter.”

Your mother’s eyes slip shut as she draws in a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she simply holds your face cradled in her palms, seeming to bask in your impassioned words. When her eyes finally open again, they are overflowing with a fierce tenderness.

“Oh liebchen,” she murmurs, voice thick with an odd mix of grief and wonder. “You are your father’s daughter through and through. So determined, so unafraid to face the world head on ...”

She strokes her thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, swiping away the dampness there. “I only hope he knows just how brightly his fire still burns in you. How it is living on in the most brilliant way.”

Surging up onto her knees, your mother pulls you into a fierce embrace, tucking your head beneath her chin. You cling to her tightly, drawing strength from her warmth, her tireless support and love. Over her shoulder, you can see Mick and Gina watching silently, their own eyes overly bright.

When your mother finally leans back, cupping your face once more, her expression has regained some of its usual firmness and resolution.

“Very well, then,” she nods, offering you a watery but determined smile. “If you truly feel ready to take on the world, to claim that name and legacy as yours, then we will face it together. As a family.”

She rises lithely to her feet, drawing you up along with her. Gathering Mick and Gina in with the sweep of her arms, she folds you all in her protective embrace, holding your foreheads together in the center.

“You may be Schumachers, but that name does not define or limit you,” she declares, quiet but firm. “It is simply one part of your identity, one piece of the incredible legacy you inherited. What you choose to make of it, how brightly you make that legacy burn, is up to you alone.”

She pulls back just enough to meet each of your eyes in turn, her own gleaming with resolute pride.

“So let them watch, let them scrutinize and sneer and make their judgments. You will simply keep chasing your passions and living your truths. Yes, the world may know you as Schumachers, but you alone will define what that name represents, now and for generations to come.”

***

The roar of the engines fades as you cross the finish line, taking the chequered flag. The broadcast team erupts in excitement.

“Unbelievable! Y/N Schumacher has done it — the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher wins the Formula 2 championship in her rookie year!”

You can hardly believe it yourself as you start your cooldown lap, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The pit crew is cheering wildly, holding up the #1 sign. Your race engineer is on the radio, his voice cracking with joy. “You’re a champion, Y/N! A first-year champion!”

“What an incredible drive from the young German. Shades of her father with that relentless determination and racecraft. She’s carried on the Schumacher name proudly.”

As you return to the pit lane, you spot Mick getting out of his own car. He has a huge smile on his face, eyes shining with pride. You take a moment to drink it all in as you bring your car to a stop and he’s the first one there, ripping off your helmet so he can hug you tightly.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He’s beaming as he pulls back to look at you.

“Aww, Mick ...” You blink back happy tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me every single race.”

Mick shakes his head dismissively. “This was all you. You were the faster driver this season, plain and simple.” His face falls a little. “I really thought I had you there at the end, but you just wouldn’t give up.”

You grin cheekily. “Of course not! I’m a Schumacher — we never give up.”

“What a beautiful moment between the siblings. You can see the immense pride Mick has for his sister, despite coming up just short of winning the championship himself.”

The rest of the team surrounds the two of you, lifting you both up onto their shoulders as the celebrations kick into full gear. You lock eyes with Mick over the sea of smiling faces and he winks at you contentedly.

Later, after you’ve returned to the garage, you find a quiet moment alone with Mick. He pulls you into another hug, this one more lingering.

“I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You’ve worked so incredibly hard for this.” Mick’s voice is thick with emotion.

You squeeze him tightly. “Thank you, Mick. That means everything coming from you.”

He pulls back, cupping your face fondly. “I remember when we were kids, dreaming of following in Papa’s footsteps. And now look at us!”

You laugh, a few happy tears spilling over. “I know, it’s crazy! I couldn’t have done this without your help, you know. You’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

“A storybook ending for the Schumacher siblings. Y/N cementing herself as a future star, with her older brother not far behind.”

Mick shakes his head adamantly. “No, Y/N, this was all your talent and determination. I just got a front row seat to watching greatness in the making.” His eyes are shining with sincerity.

You throw your arms around his neck, struck by how lucky you are to have such an amazing brother. “I love you, Mick. Thank you for always believing in me.”

He hugs you fiercely. “I’ll always believe in you. You’re a champion now, but I know this is just the beginning for you.”

The team arrives then, champagne bottles in hand and ready to continue the celebration. You pull back and grin at Mick mischievously, cracking open the first bottle with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you … for now.”

The bubbly liquid sprays everywhere as you both dissolve into laughter, reveling in this perfect moment of sibling bonding and love. Mick pulls you into a wet hug, so proud and grateful to share this with you.

“And an iconic image — the Schumacher children celebrating a Formula 2 title just like their father did in the upper series so many times before. A changing of the guard, with the name Schumacher set to dazzle racing fans once more for years to come.”

Later that night, after you’ve showered off the champagne and slipped into comfy clothes, there’s a soft knock at your hotel room door. You open it to find Mick standing there, shifting awkwardly.

“Hey, you’ve got a second?” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, like he’s been crying.

“Of course, what’s up?” You gesture him inside, concerned by his demeanor.

Mick enters slowly, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He seems to be struggling to find the words.

You rest a hand on his arm. “Mick, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

He nods jerkily, finally meeting your eyes. “I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you accomplishing your dreams.” His voice catches with emotion.

“But?” You prod gently.

Mick’s eyes water again. “But … it’s also really hard for me. This was my dream first, you know? To become a champion like Papa.” He swipes at the tears angrily. “And now you’ve beaten me to it. I’m just … I’m struggling with that a bit.”

Your heart clenches at his quiet admission. You pull Mick into a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Oh, Mick … I’m so sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

He shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all. You earned this, fair and square. I’m just … dealing with some complicated emotions, I guess.”

You push him back by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes intently. “Mick, listen to me. You are one of the most naturally gifted drivers I’ve ever seen. This is not the end for you, not even close. You’re going to be a champion too, I know it.”

Mick seems to deflate slightly at your words, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you state firmly. “We’re going to take this to the top level together. And we’re going to make Papa even more proud than he already is.”

A slow smile spreads across Mick’s face. “Together,” he repeats, reaching out to take your hand and give it a squeeze.

You squeeze back reassuringly. “Always together. You and me, just like when we were kids. We’re a team, remember?”

Mick nods, the brightness returning to his eyes. He seems lighter now, the melancholy cloud lifted by your words of encouragement.

On impulse, you throw your arms around him again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Mick laughs delightedly, squeezing you just as tightly.

“Thank you, Y/N. I needed to hear that from you,” he murmurs shakily into your hair.

You pull back just enough to grin at him cheekily. “What are little sisters for?”

Mick lets out a surprised bark of laughter, warmth and affection shining from every part of his expression as he gazes at you fondly. “You’ll always be my little sis, champion or not.”

It’s your turn to laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “Well this little sis just kicked your ass this season, so show some respect!”

Mick’s eyes crinkle with mirth. “I’ll remember that for next year, believe me.”

***

It’s a crisp autumn evening at the Schumacher family home in the Swiss Alps. You’re curled up on the plush couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine while your brother paces back and forth anxiously.

“Will you please sit down?” You ask, eyeing him over the top of the pages. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Mick runs a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Sorry, I’m just … worked up, I guess.”

You set the magazine aside. “About what? We haven’t had a race in weeks.”

He stops his pacing to face you. “You know the season’s almost over, right? And Haas still hasn’t said anything about re-signing me for next year.”

“Oh, Mick.” You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. You’ve had a solid season.”

Mick flops down next to you, deflating a little. “I don’t know. There are so many other options on the table. What if Haas decides to go a different direction?”

“Then you’ll find another seat,” you say firmly. “Any team would be lucky to have you behind the wheel.”

He manages a half-smile. “Thanks. I just wish I had your confidence sometimes.”

“What can I say?” You flash him a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”

The peaceful moment is shattered as both of your phones start ringing in unison. You exchange a puzzled look before digging them out.

“My manager,” Mick says, furrowing his brow as he answers. “Hello?”

You do the same, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, Nicolas, what’s up?”

For the next few minutes, you and Mick are silent, listening intently with rapidly changing expressions — yours elated, his crestfallen. When you finally hang up, Mick is staring at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Well?” He asks, voice tight. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

You take a deep breath, trying to tamp down your surging excitement. “Ferrari wants me for next season.”

Mick’s face falls even further, if possible. “You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this!” You can’t keep the grin from overtaking your features. “Can you believe it? Driving for the Scuderia! It’s a dream come true!”

“Yeah, for you maybe,” Mick mutters darkly.

You blink at his tone, smile fading slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He drags a hand down his face wearily. “Haas declined to re-sign me for next year.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that can’t be right!”

“Afraid so.” Mick’s voice is flat, resigned. “They said something about … needing to bring in fresh blood or some bullshit excuse.”

You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Mick, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“Don’t be.” He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but it comes off as dejected. “At least one of us is moving up in the world.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You protest. “We’re teammates! We were supposed to take on Formula 1 together!”

Mick snorts humorlessly. “Looks like that’s not going to happen after all.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between you. You open your mouth, searching for the right words of reassurance, but come up empty. How can you comfort him when your own dream has come true at his expense?

“Hey.” Mick’s somber tone breaks the quiet. “I’m happy for you, you know. Really, I am.”

You meet his sincere gaze, feeling your eyes start to well up. “I know. But that doesn’t make this any less shitty for you.”

He manages a rueful smile. “What can I say? I’m a realist.”

“So what are you going to do now?” You ask quietly.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Keep grinding, I guess. Look for another seat, any seat, even if it’s not in F1 next season.”

“You can’t give up on F1!” You protest instantly. “You’re too good for that, Mick.”

“Am I, though?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Face it, Y/N, you’ve always been the better driver. This just proves it.”

You shake your head adamantly. “That’s not true at all! You’re every bit as talented as me.”

“Then why did Ferrari pick you instead of me?” There’s no accusation in his words, just weariness.

You falter, mind churning as you search for an answer that won’t come. “I … don’t know.”

“Exactly.” Mick closes his eyes briefly. “Maybe it’s for the best. At least this way, one of us still gets to live out the Schumacher legacy and race for Ferrari. Carry on the family name, you know?”

“But you’re a Schumacher too,” you say, feeling your throat start to tighten with unshed tears. “It should be both of us out there, not just me.”

Mick reaches over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’ll be okay, really.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” You swipe angrily at the moisture gathering in your eyes. “It’s not fair, Mick. It’s just not fair at all.”

He levels you with a look that’s decades older than his years. “Life rarely is. You know that as well as I do.”

You fall silent, unable to formulate a response. He’s right, you realize with a pang. The two of you, of all people, should understand that success and failure often go hand-in-hand, even for the most talented competitors.

Pursing your lips, you lean forward and pull Mick into a fierce hug. He tenses for a split second before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m still so proud of you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my incredible big brother.”

Mick lets out a shaky exhale against your hair. “And you’re the most badass little sister a guy could ask for. Ferrari has no idea what they’re in for.”

You pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, emboldened by the warm affection shining in them.

“Just promise me one thing?” You ask.

He arches an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s that?”

A mischievous grin tugs at your lips. “That you’re not going to take it easy on me whenever you’re back on the grid.”

***

You take a deep breath as you pull your sleek new Ferrari up to the iconic factory in Maranello. This place holds so many memories — some joyful, others bittersweet. Your father cemented himself as a legend here, and you can’t help but feel the weight of that legacy on your shoulders now more than ever.

The door swings open and there stands Fred Vasseur offering you a warm smile. “Y/N, welcome home.”

You return the smile, unable to mask the flood of emotions. “It’s good to be back, Fred.”

He gestures for you to follow him inside. “I’m sure this place brings back quite a few memories.”

“You have no idea,” you murmur, taking in the familiar sights and smells. The rosso corsa that coats every surface, the scent of machinery and high-octane fuel … it’s intoxicating.

A tiny you runs through the hallways, giggling madly as your frantic mother tries to catch up. “Mick! Y/N! Get back here this instant!”

Mick peeks out from behind a workbench, sticking his tongue out at Gina, who playfully swats at him. You spot the perfect hiding spot — a massive green recycling bin tucked in the corner ...

“Y/N? Are you still with me?” Fred’s voice breaks you from your reverie.

You shake your head. “Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. This place just … feels like stepping into the past.”

Fred nods knowingly. “I can only imagine. But today is about your future with the team.” He leads you through the winding corridors, pointing out various departments. “Over here is aerodynamics, that hallway takes you to the design labs ...”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your father’s voice echoes down the corridor, his tone playful but tinged with desperation. You stifle a giggle from your hiding spot as his footsteps draw closer.

“Michael, any luck?” That’s Paolo, one of the mechanics. You chance a peek and see half the team has been enlisted to search for you.

Your dad scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s too good at this game. Should’ve known better than to play hide-and-seek in a place this size.”

You chuckle softly at the memory, prompting a curious look from Fred. “Sorry, just … reminiscing again.”

He gives you an easy grin. “By all means, feel free to share. I’d love to hear some of those old stories.”

You take a breath, composing yourself before launching into the tale. “Well, there was this one time when I was maybe … four or five? Mick and I were causing an unholy ruckus as usual, and Papa suggested a game of hide-and-seek to wear us out. Big mistake on his part.”

Fred’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Let me guess, you proved to be a master hider?”

“You could say that.” You grin mischievously. “I found this big recycling bin, crawled inside, and stayed completely silent while the whole team tore the place apart looking for me. Papa was just about to call in the overalls for backup when Paolo finally peeked in the bin.”

Fred throws his head back with a hearty laugh. “I can just picture your poor father’s face when they found you! He must’ve been both relieved and completely exasperated.”

You nod. “Oh, he wore that particular blend of emotions often when we were young terrors around here.”

The two of you continue chatting amicably as Fred shows you around the various facilities — the simulator room, the engine workshop, even the gym and physiotherapy center. With each new area unveiled, another flood of nostalgia washes over you.

You and Mick sprint into the wide-open workshop, engines and miscellaneous car pieces scattered all around. Gina is closing in, her longer legs giving her an advantage.

“Got you now, you little gremlins!” She scoops Mick up with one arm, then turns her sights on you.

You let out a shriek of laughter, dodging around a massive piece of equipment as your mother joins the chase. “Come here, Maus! It’s time for your nap!”

You shake your head furiously. “No nap! No nap!”

Corinna’s hand finally snags the back of your shirt, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as she pulls you into a hug ...

“That’s some smile you’ve got going there,” Fred notes with a wry grin. “I take it another happy memory?”

You give an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Just … remembering how this place used to be our personal jungle gym. Mick, Gina, and I would run absolute loops around Mama while she tried to wrangle us for nap time.”

Fred chuckles fondly. “I can picture three tiny terrors leaving chaos in their wake.” His expression softens. “It must be incredibly special to be back here after all these years. To follow in your father’s footsteps like this.”

You swallow hard against the swell of emotions. “It’s … overwhelming, if I’m being honest. But in the best possible way.” You glance around at the familiar setting with new eyes. “These halls practically raised me. And now … now I get to write my own chapter here.”

Fred gives your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve got a long road ahead, but I have complete faith you’ll make us all proud, Y/N.”

You straighten your shoulders, giving him a determined nod. “I’m ready.”

As you follow him further into the factory, you can’t help but revel in the rush of coming full circle. Yes, this team, this place, is indelibly woven into your childhood. But now … now it’s time to create new memories.

To race.

To win.

To become a legend.

***

The crowd outside the Ferrari headquarters swells as you emerge from the famous red doors for the first time as an official Scuderia Ferrari driver. Shouts and cheers erupt from every direction, fans pressing forward eagerly with pens and photos clutched in their hands.

“Over here, Y/N!”

“Un selfie, per favore!”

“Can you sign this for my daughter?”

You plaster on a polite smile, trying to graciously oblige as many autograph and photo requests as possible. But the throngs only grow more insistent, hands grabbing at you from all angles as the crowd closes in. Your heart races and you feel yourself starting to panic at the lack of personal space.

“Per favore, let her breathe!” An insistent voice cuts through the commotion in lightly accented Italian.

The crowd parts slightly as a familiar, lean figure pushes through — your new teammate. His green eyes meet yours with a reassuring look as he plants himself firmly by your side.

“Give her some space!” Charles barks out in English this time. “She can’t breathe!”

You shoot him a grateful glance as the fans reluctantly take a step back. Charles gently takes your arm and pulls you out of the scrum.

“Sorry about that,” he says with an apologetic smile, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. “I know how intense they can be around here.”

“No, thank you,” you reply earnestly. “I was about two seconds away from an anxiety attack.”

Charles chuckles. “Well, we can’t have the new driver cracking under pressure on day one.”

You make a face at his teasing remark. “Watch it, pretty boy.”

Laughing, Charles puts his arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Come on, I know just the place to escape the madness for a bit. Dinner’s on me.”

He guides you across the plaza and down a side street to a cozy trattoria — Ristorante Montana, known as the unofficial “Ferrari restaurant” frequented by team members. As you enter, a stout woman with a warm, welcoming smile emerges from the back.

“Ah, Charles! Welcome back. And this must be ...” Her eyes widen as they land on you. “Oh, la piccola principessa is all grown up!”

Flustered, you open your mouth to respond, but the woman has already swept you up in a tight embrace.

“Rossella, you’re smothering the poor girl!” A elderly man’s voice calls out in amused rebuke.

“Hush, Maurizio, and pour us some wine!” Rossella releases you and holds you at arm’s length, beaming. “Michael’s little girl, all woman now. I’ll never forget the first time your father brought you in here as a bambina.”

She gestures to a framed photo hanging on the wall of a much younger Rossella standing next to Michael, who is holding a grinning toddler — unmistakably you.

“He was so proud,” Rossella continues misty-eyed. “Just like I know he would be of you today, following in your father’s footsteps.”

You swallow hard, touched by the warm welcome and memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Charles watching you with a soft smile.

Rossella shifts gears abruptly, all business. “Now, what will you two have? The usual for you, Charles? And for you, la principessa, I insist you try the gnocchi al ragú. Just like my nonna used to make it.”

As Rossella whisks off to the kitchen, Maurizio appears with a bottle of deep red wine and two glasses.

“To new beginnings,” he toasts with a wink, pouring for you and Charles.

You raise your glass to clink against Charles’ with a smile. “New beginnings.”

Over pasta and wine, you and Charles fall into an easy rapport, bantering back and forth as the weight of the evening’s earlier stress dissipates. You find yourself repeatedly distracted by the dimpled grin that lights up his face whenever he laughs at one of your quips.

“So is this a regular hazing ritual you put all the rookies through?” You ask innocently. “Get them away from the crowds and ply them with wine so they’re too drunk to be nervous on day one?”

Charles barks out a laugh. “You’ve found me out! Although I do seem to recall my own initiation being a lot harder. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”

“Old age? You’re what …12?” You retort, eyes dancing with mirth.

The waiter arrives with the dessert menu, but Rossella shoos him away.

“No, no menu. I’m bringing you the tiramisu to share. My secret recipe.”

Charles groans in delight. “You’re a legend, Rossella.”

She pats his cheek affectionately before disappearing again. A comfortable silence falls between you and Charles as you each take a bite of the rich, velvety tiramisu.

“Mmmm, this is literally heaven,” you murmur happily.

Charles hums in agreement around another forkful.

Your eyes catch movement out of the corner and you turn to see Rossella returning, carrying a large framed photo under her arm. She sets it down on the empty chair next to you with a proud grin.

It’s a glamor shot of you from a recent photoshoot for Vogue Italia — hair and makeup impeccable, lips parted in a secret smile as you gaze directly at the camera.

Rossella rests a hand on your shoulder. “For me, bellissima? So we can hang la principessa right next to il padre.”

Touched, you take the proffered sharpie and scribble out a quick inscription before signing your name with a flourish at the bottom.

“Grazie mille,” Rossella breathes, throwing an arm around you to squeeze you against her ample frame. “You’ve made this old heart very happy tonight.”

When she finally releases you, you see Charles watching you both with a soft, almost wistful expression. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

As you and Charles prepare to depart, Rossella calls out once more. “You come back soon, eh principessa? I have more pictures to collect.”

You throw her a wink over your shoulder. “D’accordo, d’accordo. We’ll be back soon!”

Out on the street, you pause, conscious of the evening rapidly drawing to a close. You turn to Charles, studying him properly for the first time. His deep green eyes crinkle at the corners as he meets your gaze.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t swooped in to rescue me back there.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly, but his expression is kind. “We look out for our own in Ferrari. That’s what teammates are for, no?”

A beat passes, the momentary tension thickening between you. Then Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, I should let you get going before your handlers send out a search party. Need me to call you a car?”

“No, no I’m good,” you reply quickly, trying to mask your disappointment at the night ending. “My performance coach has the car around front.”

You start to turn away, then impulsively pivot back. Rising up on your toes, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a brief, platonic hug.

“Seriously, thank you,” you murmur in his ear. “For everything.”

As you pull back, your faces are just inches apart. Charles’ eyes are warm, his gaze intense. For a dizzying moment, you’re certain he’s going to kiss you. Then just as suddenly, the moment passes and he steps back with a friendly smile.

“Anytime, princesse. I’ll see you bright and early next week for our first time running the SF-23 on the simulator.”

With a wink, he turns and saunters off down the street, hands shoved in his pockets in that effortlessly cool way of his. You let out a long breath, flustered and exhilarated all at once.

Your performance coach has indeed been waiting with the car, looking mildly concerned. “Everything alright?”

You flash her a bright smile, practically skipping to the car. “It is now, Mara. It absolutely is.”

Your first day as a Ferrari driver was certainly more than you bargained for. But as you settle into the plush leather seats, you can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Something tells you this new chapter with the Scuderia is going to be an adventure — in more ways than one.

As Mara pulls away from the curb, you catch a final glimpse of Charles striding confidently down the street. Even from a distance, you can make out the dimpled smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Leaning back against the headrest, you think back to the memory of his arm slung casually around your shoulders and sigh contentedly. Yes, you have a feeling this is just the beginning of what’s shaping up to be a very interesting partnership with Charles Leclerc.

***

Sebastian looks over the wine list, pretending to be engrossed in selecting the perfect vintage as he peers over the top of the menu. His eyes are fixated on the entrance to the upscale Italian restaurant, waiting for Charles and you to arrive.

This had better work, he thinks to himself. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but are both too stubborn to make a move.

Finally, the hostess leads Charles and you into the dining room. Sebastian ducks down, pulling the brim of his fedora lower over his face and adjusting the fake mustache he’s wearing as a disguise. He watches as the hostess shows Charles and you to an intimate table for two by the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your faces.

“There must be some mistake,” Charles says, looking around in confusion. “I was under the impression we were meeting Sebastian here for dinner?”

You look equally perplexed. “That’s what he told me too. He said to meet at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Well this is just awkward,” Charles runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Should we wait for him or ...”

Before you can respond, the waiter arrives with a basket of bread and butter. “Good evening, my name is Gerardo and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Actually, we’re still waiting on-” Charles begins, but the waiter cuts him off.

“Ah yes, Mr. Vettel asked me to inform you that he will be unable to join this evening after all. A last minute obligation came up. He insisted I take excellent care of you both and that the evening is on his treat.” Gerardo smiles broadly. “So what will you have to drink?”

Sebastian smirks to himself at his cleverly orchestrated ruse from his secluded table in the back corner. He watches with bated breath as a flustered Charles and you exchange an awkward look.

“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” you say finally, breaking the tension.

“Make that two,” Charles adds with a resigned sigh.

As Gerardo heads off to grab your drinks, an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. “You know, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Charles says, ever the gentleman. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reply, offering him a warm smile that makes Sebastian’s heart melt a little. “It would be rude to ruin the evening Sebastian so carefully planned, even if he’s not actually here to enjoy it.”

Charles visibly relaxes at your acceptance of the situation. “You’re right, of course. If it’s a free dinner, we would be fools to turn that down!”

You both share a laugh, finally breaking the ice. Sebastian feels a swell of pride watching the two of you start to let your guards down around each other.

Over the next hour or so, Sebastian is delighted to see Charles and you become more at ease, trading jokes and stories over several delectable courses of pasta, veal, and freshly baked focaccia. He’s never seen either of you look so lighthearted and carefree, nor has he witnessed two people connect on such an organic, genuine level before. It’s positively magical to behold.

Gerardo arrives once more, this time bearing a decadent slice of torta della nonna for you to share for dessert. “Compliments of the house,” he announces with a wink before departing.

You immediately dig into the lemony confection with gusto. “Oh my god, this is dangerously good,” you moan through a mouthful of pastry cream and flaky crust.

Charles tries and fails to stifle a laugh at your unabashed enthusiasm. “You’ve got a little ...” he gestures vaguely at the corners of your mouth.

“What? Where?” You ask, attempting to wipe the stray crumbs and smears of powdered sugar from your cheeks.

“Here, let me,” Charles says softly, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin.

Sebastian watches with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest, as Charles tenderly swipes the napkin along your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek in the process. The moment seems to last an eternity, the two of you locked in each other’s smoldering gaze.

Then, ever so slowly, Charles leans across the table towards you. Sebastian can scarcely breathe as he witnesses the magnetic pull drawing the two of you together. This is it, this is finally happening, he marvels silently.

Sebastian lets out an inadvertent yelp of glee and instantly slaps his hands over his mouth. A table of nearby diners turns to gawk at the strange mustached man.

“Ahem, sorry! Hairball,” Sebastian rasps out in a terrible Italian accent. He slinks down in the booth, burning with embarrassment as the other patrons slowly turn away with disgusted looks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and you also turn towards the commotion, the heated moment effectively ruined. Damn it, he was so close!

You and Charles eventually turn back towards each other, the awkwardness having returned. “We should, uh, probably ask for the check soon,” Charles mumbles, unable to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early training session in the morning anyway,” you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice as you stare down at the table.

Inwardly cursing his rotten luck, Sebastian motions for the bill and slips his black credit card into the folder when Gerardo brings it. He knows the only way to redeem this night is to insist you and Charles stay for one more drink. Maybe add a little more wine confidence to help reignite that spark you both nearly combusted over just moments ago.

As Gerardo whisks away to process Sebastian’s payment, the older German steels his nerves. He removes his ridiculous disguise, straightens his tie, and makes his way over to your table with purpose.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sebastian asks with an exaggerated wink as he reaches you. “It appears Mr. Leclerc and Miss Schumacher were stood up this evening. For shame!”

“Ah, Seb!” Charles laughs in surprise at seeing his friend and former teammate. “We should have known you were behind this madness.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a menace! I can’t believe you tricked us like that.”

Sebastian claps his hands together and flashes you both a devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who cannot abide two clearly smitten people tiptoeing around each other any longer. Now, Gerardo is going to bring you the finest Barolo they have, on my dime, and you are going to remedy this sexual tension situation once and for all over another bottle or three!”

Charles opens his mouth to protest, but you laugh delightedly and nod towards Sebastian. “You know what, I could go for another drink. What do you say, Charles?”

The older Ferrari driver seems to wilt under the weight of your brilliant smile, Sebastian can’t fault the man for that. “Ah, what the hell,” Charles shrugs, throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Let’s see where this night takes us!”

Sebastian settles in, pouring you all generous glasses of the deep ruby wine when Gerardo delivers it. He may be getting on in years, but his matchmaking job has only just begun. One way or another, he’s determined to ensure his two protégés quit stumbling over each other and finally discover the romance that’s been blossoming under their noses all along.

Sipping his wine, Sebastian gazes at you and Charles, sees the tenderness flickering in both your eyes as you lean in closer together over the candlelight. He smiles contentedly to himself.

Mission accomplished.

***

The paddock is mostly deserted at this late hour, the muffled sounds of the teams packing up drifting in from the garages. You linger near the Ferrari motorhome, watching Charles sitting alone on a stack of tires, shoulders slumped. He’s been increasingly withdrawn these past few days leading up to the Japanese Grand Prix.

You approach slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Charles? You okay?”

He looks up, managing a small smile when he sees you. “Hey, mon amour.”

There’s a weariness to his voice that tugs at your heart. You take a seat beside him, letting your arm brush against his in a subtle show of support. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Charles is silent for a long moment, pulling his helmet off and turning it over in his hands. “It’s Suzuka,” he finally says, so softly you have to lean in to hear him. “Being back here … it’s difficult.”

Your brow furrows. Right, this is where Jules Bianchi crashed, his accident eventually proving fatal. Charles had been incredibly close with his mentor and godfather. “I can’t even imagine how painful this must be.” You cover his hand with yours. “Having to race on the same track ...”

“I relive that day over and over.” Charles’s accented voice is thick with emotion. “I can still see the footage of his car slamming into the crane, like it’s burned into my mind. He was my friend, my godfather, like a brother to me. And now every year, I have to come back to this place that took him from us far too soon.” He squeezes his eyes shut, a stray tear escaping.

“Oh, Charles ...” You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. His body is rigid at first before melting against you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him tightly as his breath hitches with suppressed sobs, your own eyes stinging. How many times has he bottled up this grief, putting on a brave face for the world?

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his back. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve carried all these years. But Jules wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.” You pull away enough to frame his face with your hands, meeting his reddened eyes. “He’d want you to keep living, to keep pursuing your dream that he helped nurture. He’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

Charles manages a watery smile, covering one of your hands with his. “You’re right. Thank you, chérie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a shuddering sigh. “I just miss him so much some days. Like an ache I can’t shake.”

“I know.” You brush away the dampness on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Believe me, I understand that ache all too well.”

A crease forms between Charles’s brows as he regards you intently. “Your papa.”

You give a solemn nod. “Everyone talks about him like he’s gone. But he’s not, he’s still here, still breathing. It’s just … he’s not the same man I grew up with anymore.” You blink back tears of your own. “Sometimes I’ll see flashes that remind me so much of how Papa used to be. And then that illusion is shattered and I’m grieving all over again for the person he was.”

Charles’ arms wrap around you fully, tucking your head under his chin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Seeing those glimpses of the man he was, only to have that hope ripped away.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, definitely doesn’t feel like it most days.” Pulling away, you try for a smile. “But we Schumachers are fighters. We don’t stay down for long.”

“That’s my girl.” Charles grins, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m lucky to have you by my side through all of this craziness. I don’t know what I’d do without your support, especially this weekend.”

“Are you kidding?” You turn to fully face him, clasping his hands in yours. “Charles, you’ve been my rock too, you know that? Signing with Ferrari this year, following in my father’s footsteps … the pressure has been immense. But you’ve never let me crumble under it. You’re always there with a laugh or a hug or some silly joke to make me smile even on the hardest days.”

Charles’s grin turns lopsided, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Well, someone has to keep that ego of yours from inflating too much, future champion.” He leans in until his lips are a mere breath from yours. “But in all seriousness, we’re in this together, okay? No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have your back.”

“I know,” you murmur, feeling his words like a soothing balm over the parts of your heart still aching for your father as you once knew him. “And I’ll always have yours. We’re a team, on and off the track.” You close the distance between you, kissing him deeply.

Charles returns the kiss with fervor, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you close. The worries plaguing you both seem to temporarily fade into the background amid the warmth and solidity of his embrace. When you finally break apart, breathless, his emerald gaze holds an intensity that steals the air from your lungs in the best way.

“Je t’aime,” he murmurs, the endearment like a vow falling from his lips. “No matter what happens out there tomorrow, or any other race day, that will never change. You and me against the world, princesse.”

You flash him a coy smile, feeling desire begin to simmer low in your belly. “Is that a promise, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Mmm, I can make it one if you’d like.” Charles waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as his hands roam freely over your back and sides, pulling you flush against him. His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Maybe I can find more convincing ways to pledge my devotion once we’re back at the hotel.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you say breathily, leaning in to nip at his lower lip in a way that makes him groan. “Though if memory serves, I seem to recall you saying something about honoring the team’s curfew tonight?” You trail openmouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. “Wouldn’t want to be … sleep deprived before the race.”

Charles’s fingers flex against your hips as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re really testing my willpower here.”

“Payback for all those times you’ve tortured me.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp nip to the sensitive skin below his ear, making him jerk against you with a strangled sound. Pulling back, you smirk at the glazed look in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

He blinks slowly, then his gaze narrows in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that later.” His voice is low, almost a growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“I look forward to it.” You lean in until your lips are nearly brushing his again.

“Tease,” Charles accuses, though his kiss quickly swallows any further retort.

You lose yourself in the press of his mouth, the exploring glide of his hands over your body, the undeniable chemistry that still sometimes takes your breath away. When you finally break apart, gasping for air, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, foreheads resting together.

“Thank you,” Charles murmurs after a long beat of comfortable silence. “For always knowing how to pull me out of my own head. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s what partners are for,” you say simply, brushing back the silken strands of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are so warm, so full of love and adoration, you feel it envelop you like a cozy blanket. “I’ll always be here to lean on, just like you are for me.”

Charles catches your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. “And I’m grateful for that every single day. Facing the good times and bad, together.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “I know Suzuka will never be easy, not with the weight of the memories here. But you make the burden feel lighter. Like no matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you by my side.”

You lean in, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips. “Always. No matter what the future holds, you’re stuck with me, Leclerc.”

A slow, utterly content smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He steals another lingering kiss before glancing toward the pit area, where the last few stragglers are packing up for the night. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I suppose we should try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

Sliding off the tire stack, he offers you his hand, that warm gleam still dancing in his forest-colored eyes. “Though maybe we could indulge in a long, hot shower first? You know, to … unwind after such an emotionally draining evening.”

You raise an eyebrow at his transparent attempt at nonchalance, but can’t help a smirk from tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Leclerc, are you propositioning me?”

“Would that be so terrible?” He tugs you into his arms, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your jaw. “After all, we did have quite the … charged conversation just now. I’d hate for all that pent-up tension to distract us on track tomorrow.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his wandering hands and lips leave tingles across your skin. “Well, when you put it that way … I suppose a nice, relaxing shower could be just what we need to clear our heads.” Looping your arms around his neck, you meet his heated gaze through lowered lashes. “Lead the way, liebling.”

Charles’ responding grin is nothing short of wolfish. “With pleasure.” Scooping you up in his arms, he heads for the parking lot at a swift pace, leaving the weight of Suzuka and its ghosts behind for the night.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you bring your Ferrari across the finish line, tires smoking from the incredible pace. Your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio, congratulating you, but the words are drowned out by the thunderous cheers echoing around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.

You can hardly believe it. Your first season with the Scuderia and you’ve just won the Italian Grand Prix — on the hallowed ground that your father once ruled. The sea of fans decked out in red is a sight to behold, celebrating wildly as you complete the cool-down lap.

Pulling into parc fermé, you kill the engine, the high-pitched whine slowly dying away. Undoing the straps, you clamber out, still trying to process what just happened. This is really real.

“You!”

The familiar voice makes you turn. It’s Charles, beaming from ear-to-ear despite settling for second place today. He pulls you into a massive hug, squeezing you tightly.

“I can’t believe you just did that! Amazing drive!”

You laugh, giddy with joy and adrenaline. “I still can’t believe it either! Everything just … clicked.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Charles chuckles, ruffling your sweat-damp hair. “You were incredible out there. Absolutely brilliant.”

Hearing the praise from your boyfriend means everything. You know how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get this far. And he’s still your biggest supporter.

The two of you finally pull apart as the rest of the team makes their presence known, congratulating you with bearhugs and massive pats on the back. You did it — you brought the victory home for Ferrari at the Temple of Speed.

After the chaos of the post-race celebrations dies down a little, it’s time for the podium ceremony. You can’t wait to stand up there, basking in the adulation of the wildly passionate Tifosi. As you make your way out with Charles and the third place finisher, the crowd’s cheers swell to a new eardrum-bursting level.

Climbing the steps, you take your spot on the top level, heart racing as you look out over the endless sea of fans. The air is filled with brilliant red smoke, passionate flag-wavers creating mesmerizing patterns. You’ve seen Grands Prix in Italy before, but being up here, having actually won — it’s on another level entirely.

Speeches are made, anthems are played, and then it’s time to crack open the podium champagne. As the bottles are picked up, a rolling chant starts building in the grandstands:

“La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

The sound shakes you to your core. Tears instantly spring to your eyes.

Charles, beside you on the second step, grins and nudges you. “Listen to them! You’ve done it — you’ve made them fall in love with you just like they did with your father.”

Looking down at him with misty eyes, you mouth, “Thank you,” so overwhelmed that you can’t speak. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The two of you share a soft kiss as the chanting grows louder and louder.

As you pull back, gazing out over the surging tide of humanity, faces beaming up at you in adoration, it finally sinks in. This moment — winning at Monza for Ferrari, with Charles by your side, the Tifosi embracing you wholeheartedly — is beyond anything you ever could have dreamed.

The emotions pour out in waves of joy and pride and disbelief. You raise your bottle high, echoing the chants and cheering your heart out to the crowd. They roar back even louder, feeding off your energy in the way that only this group of diehard fans can.

Once the champagne showers subside, giddy fans whistling at you and Charles canoodling on the podium, it’s time to head back down. But the celebrations are just getting started. The team wants to keep the party going.

On the drive over to Maranello, you find yourself sandwiched in the backseat between Charles and your race engineer, Ricky. Everyone is grinning like maniacs, high on the thrill of victory, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs.

“Solo per lei! Principessa di Monza!” Ricky bellows, gently elbowing you. The rest join in, filling the car with the chant of “Only for her! Princess of Monza!” You can’t stop giggling, leaning into Charles, deliriously happy.

Once you finally roll up to the factory, the party spills out of the car and into the streets. The entire workforce has turned out, waving huge Ferrari flags, beating drums and sounding air horns in celebration. You’re immediately swarmed, being passed from hug to hug as champagne is sprayed in joyful arcs.

They finally manage to sweep you, Charles, and most of your garages inside the factory, where long banquet tables have been set up in the main hall. An enormous cheer goes up as you enter, sparkling wine sloshing from hastily poured glasses all around you.

The meal that follows is a total blur — amazing food, flowing alcohol, raucous toasts, and the happiest pandemonium you’ve ever witnessed. You keep getting tugged from conversation to conversation, everyone wanting to hear how the race played out from your lips. Charles sticks by your side the whole time, looking on with sheer pride.

At one point, you end up going shot for shot with Fred Vasseur, the team principal pouring vodka like his job depends on it. “La mia principessa!” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “You’ve made us all so proud today!”

He hoists his glass. “To our Princess! The Princess of Monza!”

The chant starts up again all around you. “La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

You beam at them all, squeezing Fred’s hand. No words can describe this feeling, being embraced so completely by your team — your family. This is what you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl. Following in your father’s footsteps, bringing glory to Ferrari, carrying on the legend.

The party rages on long into the night. At some point, you lose track of time completely, delirious with exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotion.

You come around for a moment, blinking in the dim glow of the factory lights. There’s quiet rumbles of laughter around you, echoing off the walls. Looking around blearily, you realize you’ve been tucked into a makeshift bed fashioned from a pile of Ferrari t-shirts, nestled in one of the car assembly spaces.

Charles is there too, cradled against your side, one arm wrapped protectively around you. The rest of the team — your PR officers, engineers, mechanics, everyone — is strewn about in similar nests, all of them totally conked out.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into Charles’ embrace, feeling his lips brush the top of your head. This bizarre, wonderful scene seems to encapsulate everything about being part of the Ferrari family. It’s chaotic and overwhelming and unlike anything else in the world.

But most of all, it’s home.

As you start to drift back to sleep, savoring the lingering scent of champagne and motor oil, one final chant echoes in your head:

La principessa di Monza.

La principessa di Ferrari.

***

11 Months Later

The last few laps feel like they’re happening in slow motion. Every turn, every gear shift, every tiny input to the steering wheel is magnified tenfold as the circuits count down. The pressure is immense, but you’ve been here before. You can do this.

“Stay calm, stay focused,” your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio. “The calculations look good. Just bring it home steady.”

Nodding to yourself, you downshift entering the stadium section, the roar of the massive crowd surrounding the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez swelling in your ears. This is it — your chance to join the likes of motorsport’s greatest heroes by winning the Formula 1 World Championship.

Your first victory at Monza, being crowned the “Principessa di Ferrari” by the adoring Tifosi, was a dream come true. But this … this is what you’ve worked towards since you were old enough to understand what your father achieved. To etch your name into the history books forever.

The laps tick by agonizingly. Every time the pitboard comes into view, your heart rate spikes. But you’ve got a comfortable gap to second place, managing the race perfectly. Just a few more corners now.

“Final lap, final lap,” your engineer calls out. “Looking brilliant. Stay comfortable and you’ve got this!”

You suck in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Out of the sweeping Curve 3 and onto the pit straight, the crowd’s thunderous cheers are reaching fever pitch. You can see the seas of red-clad fans absolutely losing their minds, knowing the woman they idolize is about to achieve immortality.

Crossing the finish line, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding for what feels like ages. The emotion is overwhelming — a combination of pure elation, disbelief, and total exhaustion.

You did it.

World Champion at last!

You cruise around, yelling unintelligibly into the radio as the celebrations kick off around the circuit. There’s confetti in the air, smoke flares going off in brilliant shades of red, and a full-throated roar that could probably be heard all the way back in Europe.

Pulling into parc fermé, you switch off the car, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Tears of joy prick at your eyes as the magnitude of your achievement hits home. Ever since you were a little girl, running around watching your papa, this has been the ultimate dream for you.

And now, it’s finally happened. You’re a World Champion. Just like him.

The first person to reach you is Charles. He comes sprinting over from his own car, bounding past the marshals without a second look. One glimpse of the huge smile plastered across his face is all it takes for you to dissolve into giggles and delirious tears.

“You did it! You brilliant, brilliant woman, you did it!” He shouts, grabbing you up in his arms and spinning you around in a whirlwind hug.

“I can’t believe it, Charles! It felt like a dream … like it wasn’t really happening!”

You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, drunk on the euphoria of the moment. Clutching each other tightly, you press your foreheads together, trying in vain to compose yourselves.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles murmurs, gazing at you with adoring eyes. “You worked so incredibly hard for this. You deserve everything.”

Surging forward, you capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. For a few brief moments, the two of you are alone, lost in the depth of your emotions and your all-encompassing love for each other. Nothing else in the world matters but this perfect second frozen in time.

You finally break apart, breathless, when the rest of the team sweeps in to congratulate you. They swarm around in a laughing, whooping mass, jumping up and down, hugging, chanting your name over and over.

“To our champion! The Queen!”

The cry comes from Antonio, one of the veteran mechanics who’s been with the team since your papa’s days. He clasps your hands tightly, gazing at you with pride.

“Sei la regina! The Queen of Ferrari!” He hollers over the raucous din, tears shining in his eyes. “Just like your father, you’ll reign forever!”

Your eyes start brimming over again, overwhelmed. The tears roll down your cheeks, smearing streaks of sweat and grime from the race. But you can’t stop beaming.

All at once, the rest of the crew picks up on Antonio’s declaration. Their cheers and chants coalesce into one booming refrain:

“La Re-gi-na! La Re-gi-na!”

The sheer adulation washes over you in waves, every face beaming up at you in utter reverence. You find yourself struggling to take it all in. In a few incredible seasons, you’ve elevated yourself into the realm of legend in their eyes.

Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, steadying you as your knees start to go weak. You can feel his smile radiant against your neck as he cheers and whoops right along with the rest of them.

“You hear them?” He chuckles, kissing your temple. “It’s all for you, mia regina! My Queen.”

Hearing your love, your partner, your other half call you that sets off a fresh round of giggles and sobs. Turning in his embrace, you loop your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.

When you finally part, you look out over the still-roaring crowd, many of them carrying elaborate signs with intricate drawings depicting you as a regal sovereign. Some have fashioned ornate crowns out of random merch and foam, holding them high. Others set off flares and smoke bombs in Ferrari red.

For a moment, their euphoric cheers fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Closing your eyes, you let the enormity of the moment wash over you, embracing the pride and humility and disbelieving joy.

This is your coronation. The new ruler of the Scuderia — la regina di Ferrari.

“La Regina di Ferrari! La Regina del Mondo!”

You can only chuckle in disbelief, Antonio and Ricky carefully taking your hands to hoist you up onto their shoulders in throne-like celebration. Charles is right by your side, standing vigil as your King Consort.

As the party spreads out around you, confetti and smoke filling the air, you look out across the ecstatic crowd. All you see are fervent faces, worshiping you as their new Queen of the World.

It’s a delirious scene that you never, ever could’ve imagined. And yet it feels so natural, so right. Like you were born to be in the center of this storm of jubilation. This is your true home.

And now, you’ve taken your rightful place as its ruler.

Mexico City burns long into the night in tribute to the newly-coronated Queen. Tomorrow, the party will likely continue all the way back to Maranello. But in this moment, you’re lost in the swirl of ecstasy, allowing yourself to be swept up in the currents of adoration.

La Regina di Ferrari.

La Regina del Mondo.

***

Eight Years Later

Jules can barely contain his excitement as you and Charles help him into the little red race suit. He’s practically vibrating with energy, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Easy there, petit coureur,” Charles chuckles, ruffling Jules’ hair affectionately. “We’ll get you suited up and on the track soon enough.”

“I’m gonna beat everyone!” Jules declares confidently. You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“That’s my boy,” you say with a wink. “Just like your Papa and me.”

Charles grins and pulls Jules into a hug. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Today’s just for fun though, remember? No official points or anything.”

“I know, I know,” Jules says impatiently. “But I’m still gonna win!”

You laugh and swing him up into your arms, peppering his face with kisses until he squeals with delight. “Whatever you say, liebling. Now let’s get you out on that track!”

The three of you make your way out to the karting circuit, hand-in-hand. You can already see a small crowd starting to form along the fences, phones and cameras at the ready. A familiar scenario, even at such a low-key local event.

“Mama, Papa, look!” Jules points excitedly. “Those people want to take pictures!”

“That’s right, schatzi,” you say gently. “Your Papa and I are pretty well known in motorsports.”

“Like movie stars?” His eyes go wide.

Charles laughs. “Something like that, I suppose. More like … really famous racecar drivers.”

“Whoa ...” Jules seems to be processing this new realization. “You’re the best ever, right? The bestest?”

You share an amused look with Charles. “Well, we’ve had our fair share of success,” you hedge.

“Your mother is a multi-time World Champion,” Charles says proudly. “As am I. We did pretty okay, I think.”

“Woooaahh!” Jules looks absolutely awestruck, like his little mind has been blown. It’s both adorable and bittersweet — your own child, only just now grasping the level of your accomplishments and fame.

The crowd has grown considerably by the time you reach the pit area, people pressing against the barriers in hopes of getting a glimpse of the royal family of Maranello. A small team of event staff try valiantly to keep order, but it’s a losing battle.

“Excuse me! Y/N! Can we get a photo?”

“Charles! Over here, please!”

“Oh my god, is that little Jules? He’s so cute!”

Jules clings a bit closer to you and Charles, startled by the commotion. You pull him protectively against your side.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just some fans who are excited to see us.”

Charles gives the crowd a regretful smile and a small wave before ushering you both past the security team and into the pit area. The calmer, more controlled setting seems to ease Jules’ nerves.

“Why were all those people yelling and taking pictures?” He asks with a small frown.

“Like I said, we’re pretty famous racers,” Charles explains patiently. “A lot of people know who we are and want our autographs or photos with us.”

“Like celebrities!” Jules says, the admiring light returning to his eyes.

You laugh and ruffle his hair again. “Something like that, yeah. Your Papa and I have had a very successful racing career over the years.”

“The best careers,” Charles amends with a wink at you. “Multiple world titles each.”

“World titles?” Jules looks utterly baffled by the concept. “Like … the best in the whole world?”

“Exactly,” you confirm, feeling that familiar swell of pride. “We were the fastest drivers in the world, for a few years at least.”

“Whooaa ...” Jules seems torn between awe and disbelief. “You’re like … superheroes!”

You and Charles both crack up at the adorable comparison.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Charles laughs, “but I suppose to some we come pretty close, eh?”

He scoops Jules up and swings him around, making him shriek with laughter. You watch them with a content smile, suddenly aware of how blessed you are to have this life — your incredible husband, your precious son, the career successes you both achieved. It’s more than you ever could have dreamed.

“Alright,” Papa says, setting Jules back down. “Why don’t you go grab your kart and we’ll get you out on the track? Think you can take on the world champions?”

Jules gives a determined nod, that familiar fire blazing in his eyes — the same look you’ve seen in your husband’s familiar green ones a thousand times over the years. “You bet! I’ll show you how it’s done!”

With one last hair ruffle, you send him scampering off excitedly. Charles slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” He murmurs against your temple. “So much like us at that age. I can already tell he’s going to be a hell of a driver someday.”

You lean into his embrace with a contented sigh. “He is … and just look at how the crowd reacted to him. He’s barely grasped that we’re famous, and now he’s already getting mobbed himself. Our little star in the making.”

Charles makes a rueful sound. “We’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose.”

“Oh, I think we can handle it,” you say lightly. “We’ve had plenty of practice being in the spotlight, after all.”

He laughs and drops a kiss to your hair. “That’s true enough. As long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Exactly.” You turn in his arms to face him properly, cupping his jaw tenderly. “You, me, Jules … nothing else matters as long as we have each other.”

Charles’ eyes are warm with devotion as he gazes down at you. “My soulmate. My family. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, the rest of the world temporarily fading away. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of his embrace, the love you share-

“Ewww, gross! Stop kissing!”

You break apart with a laugh to find Jules making over-exaggerated gagging noises nearby.

“And the moment’s ruined,” Charles teases, keeping an arm looped around your waist.

You bend down to Jules’ eye level with a mock stern look. “You just wait until you’re all grown up with a sweetheart of your own. Then you’ll understand.”

He scrunches up his nose theatrically. “Never! Girls are gross!”

You and Charles share an amused look.

“If you say so,” Charles chuckles. “Now let’s get that kart fired up.”

Jules’ entire demeanor shifts in an instant, that fierce competitiveness surfacing once again. He scrambles into the cockpit of his little kart and takes firm hold of the wheel, looking suddenly years beyond his age.

“You’re going down!” He declares brazenly. “I’ll leave you both in the dust!”

And just like that, the proud parents are replaced by your familiar racing mentalities — the thrill of competition, the desire to win. You share a conspiratorial grin with Charles.

“Is that so?” He taunts playfully. “In that case, no more taking it easy on you two.”

You bend down to kiss Jules’ forehead, unable to resist a parting quip. “Promise you won’t be sad … because Mama always wins.”

With that, Charles heads off to grab his own kart, leaving you and Jules alone for a brief moment. He looks up at you with shining eyes.

“You’re my hero, Mama,” he says simply. “And Papa too. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

You feel your heart swell fit to burst, filled with more love than you could possibly put into words. Bending down, you pull your beautiful little boy into a fierce hug, eyes shining with unshed happy tears.

“Oh liebling … you already are. You’re everything we could have dreamed of and more.”

You press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, overwhelmed with affection. When you finally pull back, there are indeed tears shining in your eyes.

“Now go show your parents what you’ve got, baby,” you say with a watery smile. “I can’t wait to see you out there.”

Jules gives you a determined nod, eyes blazing with that trademark fire. “You got it, Mama! Get ready to lose!”

With that, he slams down the visor on his helmet and revs the little engine. You step back with a laugh, watching him peel out onto the track with all the confidence and flair of a seasoned pro. Like parents, like son indeed.

By the time Charles rejoins you, his own kart idling beside yours, Jules has already completed a couple of warm up laps. You can’t resist shooting Charles a smug grin.

“Well, well … looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He drives just like you.”

Charles snorts, clearly trying to downplay his obvious pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s all your genes coming through.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a sudden commotion from the fences draws your attention. The crowd has grown even larger, people pressing against the barriers with raised phones and voices calling out excitedly.

“Oh my god, it’s them!”

“They’re so cute together!!”

“Over here, please! This way!”

You share a resigned look with Charles as event staff rush to try and control the growing swarm.

“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?” You murmur. “Our little family, constantly in the spotlight.”

Charles shrugs, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he watches Jules blaze by. “What else is new? We’ve been there our whole careers. At least this time, we get to share the fame together … as a family.”

You lean into his side with a contented smile. Out on the track, Jules whips past in a blur of determination, completely unbothered by the fawning crowd. Just a little boy living out his dream, regardless of who his parents might be.

“You know what?” You say softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Charles drops a kiss to your hair as the roar of the crowd and engines swells around you. “Me neither, mon amour. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

[rabbit-surfboard]

Fictional podcast recs

One of my friends got into audio drama and I just sent them a whole list of recommendations to go through, I thought someone who follows these tags might also appreciate it and perhaps have some more to throw in. I resisted the urge to throw in the little blurb about audio dramas as a weird little medium and their tropes that I wrote up. It was something to the effect of nodding at how the medium has rapidly been improving since Welcome to Nightvale started, also how a lot of the tropes that tie the medium together are products of the indie podcast scene being accessible and primarily based in audio. Also at how well horror works in the format. Those paragraphs went unsaved but writing first about the medium in general helped me to reflect on a lot of the things that make audiodramas appealing or repulsive to me for discussing each show in brief beyond just explaining what they're about.

All recommendations are tagged for the tldr.

Fiction podcast recommendations in no particular order:

The Magnus Archives

Horror

The biggest criticism I ever had of this podcast’s voice acting from episode 1 turned out to be a relevant plot point. This thing is probably the best of the best, but I would never recommend it to someone unfamiliar with podcasts because the listener only notices a plot hook somewhere between episodes 20-40 and that’s daunting in the face of a 200 episode show. Getting sucked in rewards you with 200 episodes of thoughtful content and a great explanation for most of the weird things this show chooses to incorporate.

Old Gods of Appalachia

Horror

Fantastic production quality on this ongoing show. Many seasons with interconnected lore and a hell of a narrator. It’s not my personal favorite but it’s quite excellent.

Red Valley

Found footage mystery

One of the newer shows I’ve gotten into, Red Valley is well-crafted. It becomes compelling very quickly with a rapid pace that slows down to land in a neat spot for a while so you can savor the cool parts. The production quality is excellent and the two main voice actors have excellent chemistry. The third and final season is currently being produced.

The Silt Verses

Horror

Often compared to American Gods, this newer podcast made by an experienced team is doing a lot of creative and fresh things at once. The magnificently fucked up religious system of The Silt Verses is both a neat plot vehicle and cleanly works as a criticism of late stage capitalism, where many podcasts like to jab at capitalism this one is much more pointed in its commentary. Episodes are long and very well produced. All the credits in the third season have been mostly diegetic and add flavor to the world.

Archive 81

Found footage horror

Slow to start but by season 2 the production quality and plot are among the best in the game. Unfortunately, on an extended hiatus.

Ars Paradoxica

Science fiction, historical

Very well produced considering its age, this is a highly regarded show among people who follow the medium. Excellent time travel mechanics here. The plot drags a bit by the end because time travel stories must violently contort themselves into a conclusion, but the first season or two are fantastic and it’s always nice to have an ending instead of interminable hiatus.

Caravan

Gay demons n stuff

Showed up, did magic and gay shit, disappeared and went on hiatus probably with some kinda unsatisfying cliffhanger seeing as I don’t remember the plot. Could I recommend it in good faith? Not until they at least cough up season 2. I don’t remember it being bad and that alone is notable for the medium.

Mabel

Gothic horror

This is the deepest cut on the list except for maybe Caravan. Lesbians pine at each other for increasingly complicated reasons, eventually devolving into them doing datura and then spewing cryptic poetry together for the rest of their days. The production quality is fair. The slow windup and creepy house are American-gothic af. This show has had a few hiatuses, but each time it comes back significantly more intriguing.

Welcome to Nightvale

Goofy spooky news broadcast

Old and iconic, not very consistent. Sometimes explores emotional, tense, spooky, or funny scenes well, but the show is really focused on being local news for an ooky spooky desert town because Cecil is damn good at his job. Don’t come here looking for plot, it’s a fun vibe and I don’t know that anybody’s ripped it off and notably improved on this classic. Above average production quality for its time which improved through the years.

Alice isn’t Dead

USA road trip, horror

Made by at least one of the Nightvale writers, totally different show with a lesbian trucker making wry observations of some magnificently twisted shit seen around the United States. The producers know how to run a show, so the production is pretty good.

Tanis

Found footage horror

Tanis is not good. However, it was the first fiction podcast to make me ask “Is this real?” and hesitantly believe it for a frankly embarrassing number of episodes. The stories in the first season were interesting and the lore is just some big-tent conspiracy style of cramming a bunch of fun Wikipedia research into what turns out to be an increasingly nonsensical plot. Every season after the second, I return to hate-listen and am gaslit into thinking the show might low-key rock a few episodes before the finale, which is routinely frustrating and makes sure to throw out any good plot points Terry Miles comes up with. The acting is routinely terrible, and the frame narrative allows lazy and frequent retcons, ruining what I think is a good premise. Also it’s incomplete.

The Black Tapes

Horror

Terry Miles started this show before Tanis began releasing about 5 months later. I think of it as one of his earlier works because it behaves like Tanis with an added layer of cringe from a time waster of an awkward romance(?) between the two main characters. I couldn’t finish this show. You won’t see this recommended as often as it used to be online because there’s many better shows now, but this used to be a big deal. There’s a bunch of memes making fun of the annoying cadence of the characters’ speech and iconic sponsorship reads in both this and Tanis. If you’re interested in some cringe atop your creepypasta podcast, the two are interchangeable.  

Rabbits

ARG investigation

Not as horror focused as Terry Miles’ other shows, the cringe is dialed down and the show is better for it. Tanis and The Black Tapes are more well known, I think the only reason more people don’t think about this one is because the first two don’t inspire trust in the production or narrative quality of this show, but I remember it being fine for a season. I have not gone back to catch up now that more is out.

Malevolent

Horror

Inspired by The King in Yellow, one man performs two voices and verbally abuses himself with aplomb. Having a blind main character with an extra voice in his head is a frame story I haven’t heard yet (unless it came up in the magnus archives and I don’t remember), the concept works out great for the frame of a podcast to deploy the environmental imagery that foley cannot communicate. It also prevents the podcast trope of lengthy exposition about visual surroundings from sounding awkward or potentially impacting someone’s character development to show setting.

Wolf 359

Comedy, science fiction

A crew of whacky characters is stuck in deep space, hanging out and researching a star. Since that’s not actually very interesting they crack jokes and fuck around for a slow burn until interesting stuff happens. Good but not great, this one is long and satisfying and a bit less heavy than all the horror this medium often focuses on. Decent production quality.

The White Vault

Found footage horror

I lost patience with this podcast even though the overarching story seemed very cool – it progresses very slowly yet appears to grow bigger and more confusing instead of deigning to answer basic questions for a frustratingly long drag through the first four seasons. I worry that this frustration may be the point and the Patreon gated stories are the drivers for this tendency towards the confusing patchwork of ideas this show communicates. The production quality is good though.

The Left Right Game

Found footage horror

Genuinely great reddit creepypasta got turned into an overproduced podcast – I say “over” in comparison to the voice acting quality because it’s kind of impossible to sell some of the lines, which makes sense considering the source. Brief, complete, punchy, interesting, and just a little odd to hear such a clean production but a creepypasta this fun deserves the effort.

Wooden Overcoats

Comedy

Surprisingly good production quality for its age, and also a refresher from the usual tropes of the medium. Just a chill sitcom about a funeral parlor in a small town. I haven’t finished this 4 season show yet but its good.

The Black List Table Reads

Movie script readings

Some movie scripts just short of making the cut to be turned into a full Hollywood production were well liked enough by a group of film nerds that sat down to act them out as a podcast. Half of the episodes are interviews with screenwriters, and the other half see a script read all the way through by actors. They’re all rejected for different reasons so there’s a pretty broad spread of genres. My favorites were Blood From a Stone and Balls Out.

[youngboy18plus]

Jinx Manhwa Characters Ranked and Season 2 updates

After Jinx Manhwa season 1 has ended, bl fans are patiently waiting for another season. However, we won't be getting that any time soon. You can check out here for more details: Jinx Chapter 54 Release Date: Season 1 ends, and more

Now let's start with my personal basis ranking for the Jinx Manhwa Characters

7. Jeong Yosep

Jaekyung spars with Yosep, who is also a previous national champion. Not only is he a coach, but he is also the oldest player on Team Black. Despite his reserved demeanor, Yosep is a generous soul who would rather let his deeds speak for themselves. Yosep was there to cheer Jaekyung on as he faced off against one of his most formidable enemies. His maturity and life experience set him apart from many who cower in the face of Jaekyung's wrath, a commendable quality in comparison to many.

6. Oh Daehyun

During Dan's official introduction to the team as Jaekyung's physical therapist, Daehyun, a member of Team Black, is one of the first individuals we observe being friendly to him. When it comes to Jaekyung, he defends Dan and also shows that he has a protective side toward the other man. Because of his friendship with Dan, he is well-liked by fans and has a magnetic personality that makes him simple to like.

5. Park Namwook

Team Black's coach and Jaehyung's caring manager is Namwook. He is one of the few individuals who can manage Jaekyung's erratic mood swings, and he also offers Dan guidance and watches out for him at the gym. His family—a wife, a son, and two daughters—and his career are his first priorities, and he goes above and beyond to ensure their happiness. Fans love Coach Namwook for good reason; he's always there to cheer everyone on, from his teammates to Dan, whom he falls in love with right away.

4. Yoon-gu

Yoon-gu is still attempting to establish himself to his comrades despite being the youngest member of Team Black. Regardless of Jaekyung's sour disposition, he endures taunting with unfaltering trust. Because Yoon-Gu looks up to Jaekyun and wishes he could practice with him, he is initially envious of Dan's time with Jaekyun. After Dan gets him a sparring session with Jaekyung, he befriends Dan.

3. Jaekyung

Joo Jaekyung has a ways to go before he is seen as likeable or the favorite of the boys, despite being Jinx's love interest and the second main character. He brings the same haughty, cold attitude to the bedroom as he does to his undefeated mixed martial arts career. He proposes to Kim Dan because he is superstitious and believes he will be "jinxed" and lose if he doesn't sleep with someone before a match. When it comes to Dan, he is harsh, and he is unpredictable with everyone else.

2. Choi

Actor Heesung is Jaekyung's colleague at the talent agency. Heesung is an awful lover, even if he's handsome and nice most of the time. When he develops romantic feelings for another man, he often finds that she is more overtly in love than he is, and he rapidly grows bored with her. Since this is the root cause of his troubled romantic history, it becomes problematic when he sets his sights on Dan. The majority of the manhwa is devoted to him pursuing Dan, but he gives up when he sees how helpless he is.

Check out the special Jinx manhwa special chapter of Choi and Potato.

1. Kim Dan

As a protagonist, Kim Dan is perfect in every way. Despite his hardships, he is kind, selfless, and trying to make ends meet. Dan is practically out of luck when it comes to finding work as a physical therapist due to an incident at his last workplace and an angry supervisor. So, when superstar Joo Jaekyung makes him an enticing offer, Dan has no choice but to take it.

All Pic Source from Lezhin Comics

[ahogedetective]

"Happy Birthday Bestiiiiiieee!!" Ayumi practically threw herself at the detective and hugged him tightly! Lifting Shuichi up in the process and spinning him around. Oh, you know how Ayumi was-- Physically affectionate with her friends. And Shuichi was no exception!!

"Hehehehe!! I hope your day has been super good-- But it's only going to get better, because you know why? Presents from me! Ayumi Arakawa, MC Beating Heart!" Rapping God of Japan!" That was surely a title, but hey-- She earned it with her rep of taking down an entire sketchy but well known record label! But enough about her. This was about Shuichi! The Birthday Guy!

She holds out a bag for him! Inside were hard-cover collector editions of a certain series he liked! Even signed by the authors themselves!

"I heard one of your fave serious even got an audio drama released so...along with the books-- Tah-dah! CDs of the Audio Drama! Hehehe! They have my fave seiiyuu in it, so I might start readin' that series myself!" Of course, one way to get her into a series... was the voice actors; especially if they voiced certain 2d Husbands. But those were also in the bag too!

"Anyways, nothing but the best for my bestie!!! Happy Birthday, Sushi-kun!!!! There's something special in the bottom of the bag too...~ Heheh! Don't tell Izzy! It's for your eyes only! Aaand maybe open it private." Ayumi sticks her tongue out playfully. Oh she knew about her bestie's special interest.

... An other limited edition run... of a certain male gravure magazine; featuring Izuru when he did... idol work. @girlishwhiimsy

(( ITS SILLY GIRL TIME!! WITH THE SILLIEST GIFTS EVER!! only she could get get hands on limited edition runs >:3c izuru had his spotlight its ayumi time!!))

{ Shuichi Birthday!! 🎉}

@girlishwhiimsy !!!

"! Ayumi!! Thank-woah-hoh-hahaah!" The moment Ayumi lifted Shuichi up in that bear hug, the smile on his face brightens all the more, laughing as he holds on tight when she starts spinning him around!! "Ahaha, hi there!!! Thank you, thank you, bestie!" And Shuichi was always more than happy to return the hugs she gives him right back: he loves her hugs!

Once he's put down, he rapidly nods his head. "Thank you!! Yes, my day has been wonderful. Ahaha, that's right: made all the more better because you're here! Hehehe, no better person to receive presents from: the MC Beating Heart, herself! I'm so lucky!" He laughs, of course hyping her up like she deserves to be!

The moment he receives the bag from her, Shuichi curiously opens it up to see what's inside. "Ohhh...!!" His eyes practically sparkle when first seeing the collectors edition of one of his favorite series: a detective anime he's been really getting into! "Is this the collector's edition!? And it's even got his signature...!!!!" Which he can't imagine how hard that must have been to get..! Or maybe for someone as famous as Ayumi, probably much easier. Either way, he was ecstatic.. all the more when she tells him she even got CD's of the audio dramas!

"You even got the audio dramas, too! I've been really wanting these, th-thank you so much!! For this and the books! Ahh, I see: ahaha, I had a feeling I heard one of your favorite seiyuu that you mentioned once... and yes, you should!! It's really good... think of detectives, but with special abilities! I could see you liking some of the guys: maybe even become one of your '2d husbands of the week.'" He jokes with a chuckle, knowing how much she loves her pretty boys.

"Ahaha, and that's why you're the best bestie, ever. Thank you so much, Ayumi! I can't wait to read the books and listen to the audio dramas later! I'll even tell you the parts your favorite seiyuus come on in case you get curious, hehehe... ....Oh?" He blinks when she suddenly teases about something special being at the bottom of the bag: and to not let Izuru know about it... and to open it in private...?! "U....U-Umm...A-Ayumi?? Wh...What exactly did you give me....? That I can't even tell Izuru abou...."

He peeks at the bottom of the bag. Trying to get a look of the cover as best he can without needing to take it out... and now he sees why she told him to open it in public, because he nearly drops the bag when he sees who is on the cover!! "...taaaAAAA-waaaawaahh?!?! I-Is....!!!! I-Is that...!??! Uwaaaaah...?!?"

It was Izuru. Shirtless Izuru on the cover of this gravure magazine. "O-Oh my god oh ym god my godddd-" Oh Shuichi has turned immediately red at the sight, and is packing everything back in the bag to completely cover the magazine at the bottom at lightening speed!! He's sorry, Ayumi, but those books and audio dramas might not be the first thing to peeks at tonight the moment he's back in his room...

"W..W-Well, um!! I-I can...c...certainly see why you said that, now!! Y-Yes, I will be s...sure t-to um!! Open it later i-in my room! F-For my eyes only!! Ahem!!" Before any more steam can rise out of his head, he's pulling Ayumi into a tight hug before she can dare tease him on how accurate she was!

"Th-That being said, th-thank you for such wonderful gifts, Ayumi!! I'm really happy I can have a bestie as wonderful as you!! Even if you love obliterating me like thisss!!!" Mostly said as a joke, and despite how red his face is, a bright smile does light up on his face! "You really did make today even better than ever...! Now come, I want to enjoy it even more with you! Let's pop into one of our favorite restaurants or cafes together...!"

[reneethegreatandpowerful]

Three Houses Pre-Timeskip Thoughts!

Just for context, I chose Blue Lions and Male Byleth.

-I understand why everyone is so crazy over Ashe now. He's an absolute bean. The game (and Hopes, too) really like to trash his feelings, though. :')

-Ingrid is cooler than I realized. She and Ashe have such wholesome little interactions. <3

-Edelgard is mean

-Hubert is way more chill and polite than I expected

-Linhardt is the worst, guy won't join my house despite all my hard work to lure him!

-I didn't like Catherine until she told my dude that he was good looking and now I want to marry her

-I also want to marry Hilda though so who knows if it will go anywhere

-I am really bad at tea time. So far, Petra, Claude, and Dorothea are the only people I've gotten perfect tea time with. AND I CAN'T EVEN RECRUIT CLAUDE. D':

-Rhea is twisted and evil and makes me want to play Crimson Flower so I can GET her

-Hapi and Yuri are my favorite Wolves by virtue of not being totally obnoxious

-Mercedes started out as a terrible unit and then rapidly became an absolute monster

-I was expecting Gilbert to be one of those characters where the general fanbase thinks they're bad therefore I like them, but my first impression of him was pretty bad. Go talk to your daughter, you big lug!

-Lorenz is great. Never change, my boy. If I were Female Byleth you would not be safe from my affections.

-Hanneman is great. It's a bummer I'm not sure I can recruit him this route.

-Manuela is terrifying. Help.

-If I ever do Crimson Flower I am gonna S SUPPORT YOU SO BAD MISTER JERITZA (If I don't get completely distracted by Hubert)

-I am the fishing champion. I love the music.

-Another song I really like is "Gazing at Sirius." It's one I hadn't encountered before playing the game, unlike some of the other songs I like, and it caught me by surprise! It's not a pleasant song, exactly, it's unsettling and mysterious, good for ancient ruins and Rhea schemes... 0_0 Ehehehe, it's so good! (Also it was stuck in my head while I was thinking about lots of broody Rufus stories while in the shower XD)

-I made Lorenz my dancer like the good Lord intended

-Sothis leaving is sad. :'( What do you mean you're going to become so much a part of me we will never talk or see each other again. Dory voice: "COME BaaaAAAAAaaaack!!!"

-The Goddess Tower event is actually pretty creepy. "WhAt if we KISSED professoR?" Byleth: "It's a mark of how awful this school is that this is not the most messed up thing to happen to me." (majorly side eyes Rhea)

-Have I mentioned Rhea is really weird and creepy? Well she is. Also I find her so infuriating that I was dying for a "side with Edelgard to kick Rhea's shiny heiny" button even though this is Azure Moon

-Tea time is probably the most stressful part of the entire game XD "If you don't know the exact time to nod or sigh you will ruin your student's birthday party"

-The academy phase is very very long when you're trying to recruit absolutely everybody possible. Maybe subsequent play-throughs would be less thorough and hence faster, but I don't know, man, I feel like not having an option to split off later in the game damages the game's replay value. ...And I think replaying is half of the game's point, so that's not super great. Anyways. Little actual review there.

-Speaking of recruiting, Ferdinand put me through PURGATORY trying to recruit him, I sacrificed an entire field's worth of flowers to him and he still didn't come over. RIP. (I didn't end up getting Caspar, either :'])

-As of right now, I'm probably gonna end up marrying Hilda, because her hair looks like candy floss and I find that very pretty

-I was aware of the existence of most of the chapter battles, but I didn't know there was an actual playable battle before the attack on Garreg Mach cutscene! It was very intense, and the music matched! :0 Dimitri died. (And have I mentioned that Robbie Daymond is a good voice actor? Well he is. His low soft sad retreating tones got to my Hubert loving heart)

Anyways, I'm in timeskip, now, and it's AWESOME!! Hehehe hoohoo. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. <3

[thegeminisage]

ok, it's star trek update time. last night we watched voy's "rise!" and "favorite son."

rise!:

this one got a rough start but i actually wound up liking it a lot

like, the version of neelix that existed in my head for like a day after we found out about his family getting killed by the atom bomb is such a guy. he doesn't exist in reality, but i love that guy. so it's nice to sort of call back to that here

furthermore, neelix may at his worst when he's paired with kes but i think he's at his best when paired with tuvok. like, i still think neelix and tuvok make a funny pair because neelix is so gd annoying and tuvok is like no i am not annoyed that is an emotion and vulcans do not have emotions and meanwhile his jaw is doing the thing and he's .5 seconds away from pinching someone's lights out

also, my best friend tuvok...this episode had him being mean and then it had him being nice. it also had him being SAAAUR strong that he blocked that guy's punch without breaking a sweat. AND climbed on the roof of that thing. wonderful 10/10

as an aside i've always been kind of obsessed with the idea of a space elevator so this had content for MEEEEE

favorite son:

this one sucked so bad. haha sucked

okay there were two good things about this episode. 1. whatever mommy janeway thing happened in harry kim's subconscious. funny as hell. 2. they did suck that guy to death. like sucked him silly but also to death. and now he looks like a raisin. harry kim, this could have been you

other than that...all the caressing. blegh. it's better in hindsight once we figured out the women eat people and it's all an act but it was incredibly unpleasant to watch to begin with

also, harry is rapidly becoming the geordi of this show to me. i like him a lot, he's an easygoing likable guy, but he never gets anything to do, and when he DOES get something to do, it fucking sucks. like, almost every one of geordi's big moments (with the exception of a couple of cool visor-based things) involved him being bad with women to the point of borderline stalker behavior. and all of harry kim's big moments involve shitty or sexist writing, except that one episode that was about death, which fucking ruled even if i can never watch it again. all this because his actor was late to work a few times? have some mercy. if not for him, for us

TONIGHT: ds9's "a simple investigation" and "business as usual."

[youcalledmebabe]

ramble about your wips please and thank you :)

eeeek okay this is exciting and thank you for asking! Alright so most importantly is the webgott before sunset fic which is a sequel to my fic we do not need the wall. If you’re not familiar with before sunset (go watch it immediately) it’s the sequel to before sunrise and is basically two people meeting after nine years apart. In the interim, one of them has written a book about their night together. I was thinking about webgott and was like oh… that would one hundred percent happen to them. So Web wrote a heavily fictionalized account of his relationship with Joe and Joe finds out and shows up at his book reading in Cambridge, Massachusetts. And then they spend the day in Boston discussing their time apart, their time together, and a bunch of little things in between. It’s finished but I’m letting it simmer and taking another crack at it because I really, really adore the concept and want it to be the best it can be.

Then we have what I’m affectionately calling babe’s anatomy which started out as a joke and has rapidly become not a joke. Babe is a surgical intern with Joe, Web, and Julian. He has a huge crush on the hot reserved trauma resident Gene. Bill the ortho resident takes Gene under his wing. Speirs is a scary neurosurgeon. George is the cool nurse. Babe is muddling through his intern year and getting closer to Gene when tragedy strikes (we all know who…). He then has to figure out how to be a surgeon and a person while struggling with grief. My summary makes it sound much darker than it is (will be?) but there’s definitely some light, fun moments in there, much like grey’s anatomy. Anyway there’s so many gene as a real doctor/med student gene AUs out there and I’m like why can’t Babe try to be a doctor too, huh? So here it is.

The next is barely a wip but I’m toying with webroe which is really more webgott but Web had a little crush on Gene and (postwar) now that Joe is gone he’s sublimating those feelings. I like the idea of Web as a writer kinda romanticizing and projecting all these things on Gene (especially because I have his favorite Hemingway book as a farewell to arms which is about a medic). They’re even more different from each other than webgott is so I feel like it’s an interesting dynamic to explore. Also I feel like Web has no friends (💀) so it’s only natural he’d seek out the other lonely guy in Easy.

And then the last will probably never see the light of day but I briefly started a webgott celebrity AU where Web is a nepo baby and Joe is a CW actor with a chip on his shoulder and they’re cast in an indie Oscar bait movie and Joe makes fun of Web for going to Julliard.

And then not wips but future fics are the Anastasia webgott AU and I want to write a companion piece to my baberoe fic like the back of my hand from babe’s pov!!

Enjoy a little snippet from each of the real ones!

[fdotaku]

An Analysis of Pixiv's Recent Censorship of Femdom Artists

Do you have femdom artists you love? Pixiv is the #1 online platform that Japanese artists use to share their art, sort of like Japan's version of DeviantArt. Even among Western 2D femdom artists, Pixiv's popularity has rapidly increased in the last few years.

This article is my attempt to shed light on Pixiv's policy enforcement changes this year that have targeted a number of artists, which sadly include femdom ones.

If you're a fan of 2D femdom, especially the heavy BDSM variety, it's natural to want to know if some of your favorite artists have been forced to delete or alter their creative works, and why. It's hard to find that info anywhere else, due in large part to the fact that Japanese artists don't always defend themselves as vocally as they have a right to.

Also, just to be clear, I'll say this up-front: the only parts of Pixiv that have been affected are the 3 monetizable parts, Pixiv Fanbox (a Patreon-like site), Booth (an itch.io-like site), and "requests" (i.e. paid commissions). The main Pixiv site where artists can create profiles and share their works for free has been unaffected, and is likely to stay unaffected.

Sorry, this will ultimately be a very lengthy post; if you just want to learn what's up with Pixiv, skip down to the section "Changes at Pixiv in Late 2022" for recent events, or the section after that "2D Artists Later Targeted" for a list of some of the affected artists.

To start, I want to explain the role of international credit card companies in all of this. This controversy ultimately begins and ends with them.

The Specter of the International Credit Card Companies

Two American companies, VISA and MasterCard, have an international near-duopoly when it comes to processing credit card payments. In other words, when a site like Pixiv wants to accept customers' money, one of the most convenient and popular ways to do that is to let them pay with credit cards, but in order to do so, Pixiv needs to make a deal with a bank which in turn has a deal with a payment processing company, and their only real choice is the VISA-Mastercard duopoly if they want to reach a large number of customers, especially internationally.

So what does this duopoly mean? It means that VISA and Mastercard are also responsible for making sure they don't accidentally fund terrorists or other kinds of criminals… Or to put it in terms they understand, they need to make sure they don't accidentally facilitate the payments of someone in a way that results in political fallout. It's not like these 2 companies are omniscient and can prevent anyone from ever processing a payment for a crime, and small controversies will pop up frequently. But if they fail to properly police their partners, especially if they were previously "warned" by an outside entity but failed to take action, and a small controversy becomes a massive controversy, it's not impossible that they could have that status taken from them. Their duopoly only exists through the tacit approval of the United States government, which expects them to do a competent job. For now, there are no serious threats to their duopoly. But in my personal opinion, if they allow 1 or 2 more massive controversies on the level of what happened with Pornhub, they could lose it. These 2 companies could be said to be "responsible" for an unfathomable amount of financial transactions, so they probably don't feel that they can slack off in their relentless efforts to minimize controversy.

Thus, VISA and Mastercard have always been especially harsh on pornography. The vast majority of the commercial porn industry, especially before the web rose in popularity, revolved around real-life actors. So when these companies came up with policies about what kind of "content" was acceptable to sell, they implicitly formulated them with respect to real-life situations. Keep in mind that depictions of sex and violence are outright illegal in many parts of the world, and even safe and consensual BDSM is a crime in most places if the police are prejudiced enough to try to prosecute it. Why wouldn't they want to avoid financial liability for real-life porn that involves depiction of physical abuse, when they obviously have no way to judge whether it's a faked effect (like ketchup instead of blood) or a real act, and BDSM porn is known to depict real acts? And why wouldn't they object to real-life porn that has bestiality or child porn, when that obviously constitutes abuse? In any case, VISA and Mastercard's policies were mostly based in reason and respect for international law. After all, there is still a worldwide market for these materials, and it needs to be taken seriously. In particular, those who trade in depictions of children and animals who are unable to consent, sometimes even the brutal murder of animals, financially support or at least morally support the horrific creation of such material, the existence of which continues to traumatize many victims.

That said, porn isn't just 3D, it's also 2D, and not everyone can recognize the difference between fiction and reality. Perhaps thanks to some well-known classic literature with elements of fetishism such as Venus in Furs, I don't believe there has ever been a criminal prosecution in a Western country for purely written depictions of sexual and physical abuse that equates them with financially supporting the acts they depict. Text-based femdom is subject to the same common sense which tells us that a movie which depicts a brutal murder isn't equivalent to condoning murders. Overall, the written word is treated differently--as connected to the realm of ideas which are by themselves not crimes--than visual material. But the same can't be said for fictional visual material. Because "porn" can sometimes be defined as a reference to depictions that's independent of how those depictions are created, there's a kind of legal theory that treats scratches on a piece of paper as equivalent to photographs of horrific real-life crimes. And there have been scattered cases around the world where people were prosecuted for possession of kinky drawn porn, or even just non-pornographic manga with fan service, under laws intended to clamp down on a criminal industry.

Japan's creative industry has fiercely protected its 2D artists from arbitrary censorship for decades, and even strongly objected to occasional attempts of outside bodies such as UN organizations to pressure Japan to legally enforce censorship of "explicit" content in their domestic manga industry, such as perceived sexualization, groping, or anything that Western sensibilities object to. The Japanese 2D porn scene has its roots in the doujin scene, where people drew their fantasies without holding back (other than adding mosaics/bars over exposed genitals in accordance with Japanese law) and printed them to be sold at twice-a-year conventions. Around the turn of the millennium, that industry took to the web, and not only could people sell and buy physical erotic doujin magazines, they could sell and buy digital-only doujin works on sites like DLsite, and they expanded beyond manga into voice works, CG sets, video games, and so on. While Japan's corporate erotic industries are regulated by various entities, such as EOCS for eroge which requires games be submitted to them for advance approval, DLsite doesn't face quite the same level of restrictions, as works are speedily reviewed by DLsite staff. The popular Japanese artist site Pixiv barely ever regulates its users' erotic art, except to force them to re-upload it with mosaics. That's in contrast with the English-speaking internet, which lacked a central online marketplace for 2D porn until the VN industry pushed Steam to open its doors to erotic games, and even then they ban many games for their content; even when you compare artist sites, DeviantArt censors far more content than Pixiv, as it doesn't allow depictions of male erections, sexual contact or explicit sex acts, or characters who could be interpreted somehow as underage, and has its own volunteer army of Christians and porn haters who try to report as many fetish artists as possible. Well, anyone who's familiar with Japanese otaku culture probably understands that for better or worse, their attitude toward sex is different from that of many Western countries.

The Duopoly's Oppressive Influence on Artists

Patreon was created in 2013. At first, it was relatively censorship-free. I remember that Fenoxo, creator of Corruptions of Champions, was a top-ranked creator; that game included significant amounts of furry, latex, bestiality, futanari, mind control, rape, and of course, corruption fetish content. In truth, porn had never actually been officially allowed on Patreon. But for a while, the company clearly just wasn't sure where to draw the line when it came to how to define sexual content or not, so they left it alone.

However, all that changed in November 2017, when they outright banned a wide range of kinks. The major ones that everyone noticed were rape, incest, bestiality, and underage characters. Guro was also banned. And they interpreted these terms broadly. Some creators fled to SubscribeStar, but SubscribeStar doesn't accept as many types of payment methods as Patreon. Many creators, such as Fenoxo, stayed on by adjusting the content they produced. Half a year later, as a new ban wave swept the platform, Patreon staff confirmed that it was under pressure from payment processors to 'review content'. And then in 2019, Patreon had a major crackdown on hypnosis and mind control kink, because they defined it as a type of rape.

Now, let's look at the Japanese side. Japan was slow to understand Patreon's appeal. Due to Japan's cultural differences, there was some initial resistance to both the crowdfunding and subscription models; many people had a kind of right-wing mindset where they said that creators should just create a product and sell it rather than "beg for money". But that changed in April 2018, when DLsite launched a sister site called Ci-en, pronounced "shien" which means "support/aid". It was a smart move, because many creators already had DLsite accounts to sell their works, so it wasn't hard to expand that to Ci-en and let them set up plans to receive money from fans or just blog about whatever they wanted. A lot of ambitious femdom projects started up around this time, with the S na Kanojo-based game Escalation! among them. With Ci-en's explosion in popularity, two Japanese rivals emerged in a matter of weeks: Fantia and Pixiv's Fanbox.

Fanbox stood out for one clear reason: it's the only site that adopted the Patreon model. Ci-en has both free and paid plans, but treats each month-tier as a kind of purchase, where you unlock all posts at that tier for that month permanently. Fantia has more variety of payments options, but is also more focused around per-month purchases, and lacks a free tier. Fanbox, in contrast, creates a "box" which creators add to periodically, which is completely accessible once you pay for it, for as long as you pay for it, for the tier that you pay for; in other words, it's Japanese Patreon. And as you might expect, it's proven more popular than its rivals.

Just like Patreon, Fanbox also spent a few years relatively censorship-free, its "honeymoon" of sorts. But recently, the international credit card companies have come for Pixiv.

Changes at Pixiv in Late 2022

In mid-November 2022, Pixiv suddenly announced that they would be making changes in December to their Terms of Use to "clarify" what kind of content is not acceptable. They were open about the fact that international credit card companies had pressured them to take action. In fact, they didn't yet reveal what the specific changes would be… this was effectively an announcement about an announcement.

For anyone who had any doubt: Japanese people are far from ignorant about how their views on sex differ from Western countries. In fact, many Japanese people, especially those who appreciate otaku culture or adult content, are aware of and strongly oppose "political correctness" (ポリコレ/porikore) in Western countries. (Most of their impression of it comes from Western cinema, games, and comics, where they feel that these stories are distorted for the worse by the writers' need to adjust story elements, and in particular limit women's cuteness or sexiness.) Japanese people also understand that there's a faction in the West that wants to censor otaku culture. Furthermore, there's an overwhelming consensus among Japanese people that drawings cannot hurt anyone, and should not be criminalized.

And so the Japanese public's response to this announcement was, as expected, one of displeasure. There was a lot of discussion in Twitter about how tyrannical international credit card companies are, and it wasn't the first time such discussions had taken place, as plenty of other Japanese businesses have had disagreements with the international credit card companies in the past over the sale of erotic art. The magazine Bunshun, which is well-known for its investigative journalism, reported on how the credit card companies had been on a hair trigger ever since the Pornhub controversy in late 2020, and that because they recently discovered Fanbox had been used as a front by some Chinese vendors to covertly sell child porn and necrophilia porn hidden within lengthy videos, they were watching to make sure Pixiv came down hard on illegal content and were prepared to even ban Pixiv's entire parent company if Pixiv's actions didn't satisfy them. It wasn't only Mastercard, which is known to be a bit more strict than VISA, but also VISA and JCB (Japan Credit Bureau, an international credit card company based in Japan) who were likely to do so.

Finally, in early December, Pixiv unveiled the changes they would make to their Terms of Use. First, they distinguished between 禁止商品, content that would result in an immediate ban (which includes child porn), and 要修正商品, content that would just result in being designated as private/unmonetized until altered and re-approved by Pixiv (which includes all non-photorealistic drawings). This kind of difference in treatment is obvious, but Pixiv laying it out clearly also probably helped reassure some artists that they wouldn't be treated as criminals by Pixiv just because a "problematic" drawing was detected on their Fanbox, as well as reassure credit card companies that truly evil content would receive more than a slap on the wrist in response. Second, they add separate pages with clarifying examples of what kinds of situations are considered problematic. The key point is that their 要修正商品 page cites "sexual exploitation or sexual abuse of a minor (*1), incest, bestiality, rape (or any other non-consensual sexual behavior), non-consensual mutilation of a person or body part, [and] any other content deemed inappropriate by pixiv". Furthermore, it's clarified that this content is judged by the holistic situation presented by the image, title, tags, caption, and description; therefore, text-based context may matter as much as the art itself.

Up until this point, Pixiv had been vague about what content wasn't allowed on Fanbox and other services which utilized credit cards; they effectively just said you couldn't post "illegal" content. They were probably reluctant to tell Japanese users "look at all the fetishes that Western credit card companies consider 'illegal' to draw!" and just hoped it wouldn't result in a problem. However, as Bunsun reported, they had seen frequent cases over the years where these credit companies refused to settle payments for specific content on their platforms, and now, the credit card companies had taken the initiative to more or less band together and force Pixiv to spell out what they considered problematic in their Terms of Use.

In any case, to those of us who already were aware of what fetishes credit card companies hate most, the list didn't contain any real surprises. The real question was… to what extent would these new rules be enforced? Were they just lip service to the credit card companies who'd held them to the fire, or would they really make sure Pixiv banned every piece of incest fan art they could find on Fanbox?

Many creators held their breath around this time, and prepared to be banned when the changes took effect in mid-December. negisho, a femdom artist who both draws and digitally renders situations with muscular boys who're tied up and beaten by sexy older women, was particularly certain that he'd be censored, since he had the triple-whammy of somewhat photorealistic 3D renders, underage characters, and violence. As it turns out, his Fanbox wasn't censored. But some of his Booth works were, and out of fear, he moved to Fantia anyway. Another femdom artist, makin, creates only 2D art, but a lot of them feature loli characters and incest, so he made them all private in preparation for expected censorship… but when it didn't come, he just un-privated them in mid-January, and they're still up. So for the most part, what people feared didn't happen. However, it's true that a number of artists who produce 3D renders were targeted in a wave of suspensions that unfolded in late December. Still, overall, the impression most people had is that Pixiv's rule changes weren't being enforced strictly, and if they were enforced, it was mostly accounts who produced 3D renders that were targeted, not traditional 2D artists. There was a collective sigh of relief. And I'm sure Pixiv was happy, too, that the controversy had died down.

2D Artists Later Targeted

Unfortunately, the story didn't end there. After an apparent pause of a few months, a number of 2D femdom artists on Pixiv have had their Fanboxes targeted in a new wave of censorship.

To be clear, this is what happens: an artist is suddenly told that their Fanbox has been suspended for problematic content or have a number of their posts set to "private", which won't be visible to the public until they manually correct the problematic posts. In the case of Fanbox suspensions, they're not always told exactly which posts are problematic, so they have to somewhat guess what's problematic and make a large number of changes before applying for re-approval by Pixiv staff. They may also be told they need to remove external links such as ones to Google Drive.

Here are a list of some of affected artists, and what they revealed about the circumstances behind their account's censorship.

Miginohito Mitsuru: In March 2023, several posts set private. Reason suspected by artist: depictions of young male/female characters. Result: moved to Ci-en. (Note: The image used in this blog post is taken from their work.)

Luster Don (commissions both art and adult videos): In April 2023, he reported that he noticed some of his older posts with apparently NG (banned) keywords in their tags had been made private by Pixiv. Result: he reworded the text to not have those NG words, and re-submitted them. In fact, he had already taken the step of moving his photographic content off Fanbox onto other platforms, to preempt the possibility of a mixed fight being judged as 禁止商品 and having his entire Pixiv account banned as a result.

Kia-shi: In May 2023, their Fanbox was suspended. No specific reason/art cited by Pixiv. Reason suspected by artist: oneshota and/or oyoufuku akachan (a male character trapped inside tight clothes worn by a larger female character and pressed against her body). Result: deleted all art with those 2 fetishes, registered for Fantia, and posted that art on Fantia; continually operates both Fantia and Fanbox accounts but posts less art on Fanbox.

Robo Mikan: In May 2023, their Fanbox was suspended. Stated reason: there was a problem with the top page. Result: he changed all the images and tags displayed on the top page, and it was unsuspended. He suspects that loli content was the source of the problem (since he's a lolidom artist) but is unclear about what exactly caused it, so he created a Fantia account too and continues to operate both it and Fanbox.

Uramacoto (femsub focus artist, but lots of yuri femdom): In May 2023, their Fanbox was suspended. Stated reason: problems with their cover image, portfolio, plan cover images, and perhaps other unstated reasons; they'd also previously had a few posts flagged due to the need to revise the text or tags. Result: they changed everything that was designated problematic, but in an effort to avoid further suspensions, they researched what other people advised they do on Twitter/5ch, and in the end, they took the drastic step of censoring all adult terminology in text-based elements of their pasts and future posts (with the ● symbol, such as ア●ルト instead of アダルト): namely titles, tags, captions, and descriptions--they even took the effort to censor terms like bondage, S-onna, netorare, and seme. Note: they didn't censor the actual Japanese text within the images, just the post metadata.

Murasaki Gankyuu Suisou (SM-kei circle with a lot of heavy femdom works): In May 2023, or possibly early June 2023, their Fanbox was suspended. They fixed it in mid-June. No reason provided for why, though MGS does have a lot of violent content; if they had to censor any of it, they would've said so, so perhaps they just reworded some text or thickened some mosaics.

Philia (Korean femdom artist): In September 2023, his Fanbox was suspended. Stated reason: insufficient mosaics, external links to Google Drive. The NTR-themed CG set "Perfect Girlfriend" was also not allowed by them for some reason. Result: He did what Fanbox told him to do, and his Fanbox was restored. "Perfect Girlfriend" was apparently canceled.

My best guess is that around May 19, Pixiv automatically scanned the text-based metadata of the posts of all Fanbox creators for certain keywords associated with the content that they'd explicitly banned the previous December. And for accounts with a significant number of flagged posts, they suspended the accounts and told them they needed to fix this, and once they did so, restored their accounts. It's possible that merely changing the text would've been enough to satisfy Pixiv, but some creators like Kia-shi were more cautious now that they were under a microscope, and chose to delete the offending posts altogether. (In general, they're cautious because Pixiv has warned that repeat offenders may be outright banned.) That said, there are other cases of censorship too, but it's rare to see creators want to discuss it in detail, in part because of the shame/stigma of being told your fetishes are problematic, so in the end, the sample size I've examined is too small and I can't be confident about any of my conclusions.

Conclusions

It doesn't seem that many femdom artists have been affected by Fanbox's censorship… at least, for now. And in most cases, they've been able to make trivial fixes that let them stay on the platform. This is good news. But ultimately, the future is unknown, and the tension between Pixiv and credit card companies will probably remain for a while.

So, who are the villains in this story? Well, the criminals who misused Fanbox as cover to peddle illicit materials, obviously. Aside from them… I don't know. I don't resent any of the fundamental forces that sustain this dynamic which represses freedom of expression in erotic art. In particular, the credit card companies just want to protect themselves legally, and they have every right to be upset when the sites they partner with end up exploited by criminals. At the same time, some of these criminals are very clever, and I don't blame a site like Pixiv for not being able to detect all hidden content within videos sold on Fanbox, any more than I blame YouTube for every copyright notice that's filed against its videos. (Note: It's not like I believe Pixiv couldn't have done any better. But hindsight is always 20/20, and they're clearly putting in a real effort now.)

Villains aside, if I had to pick who else I dislike most, it's the people who embrace the censorship that results from this complex legal dynamic and falsely moralize it. For example, the current Patreon moderation team doesn't just ban certain fetishes, it outright morally condemns them in the warnings it sends to creators: "Per our guidelines, we have zero tolerance for the glorification of sexual violence, and this includes depictions of sexualized minors, non-consensual sex, incest, and bestiality." They actually implicitly accuse these artists, whose fantasies hurt no one, of encouraging violence. Fortunately, most organizations don't feel the same way. Steam famously has a single official policy toward its erotic games: they only ban what's "illegal" (read: they also follow guidelines similar to the credit card companies') or "trolling". Although they've received some flak because their moderation team treats all high school characters (no matter how curvy, no matter what school year, no matter whether they're stated to be 18 or not) as children, they've at least been largely consistent and refused to moralize their judgments; they even apologized for their premature ban of Chaos;Head Noah which led to fan outcry. Meanwhile, Japanese companies not only don't moralize this issue, they resist censorship as best they can. Even Pixiv, which was placed under a lot of pressure last December, has only censored a handful of 2D accounts that essentially verbally self-confessed to the content that credit card companies object to; there are countless femdom creators on Fanbox who I didn't mention, because they haven't encountered any censorship.

What's kind of ironic, actually, is that this past summer, Rium (Msize) started a Fanbox… less than a year after the changes in its Terms of Use caused Fanbox to lose face compared to Ci-en and Fantia. I hope it works out well for him.

Update on January 22, 2024

On January 17, 2024, Pixiv Fanbox enacted a new ban (well, force-hidden) wave, and this one covered a broader set of terms found in tags and titles.

There's been a lot of talk about it on Japanese Twitter. Tweets like this one list examples of all the terms that have been newly declared unacceptable. In short, the terms are all associated with any of 3 categories: non-con, underage, and incest. Previously, the main banned terms had been the ones associated with underage character depictions, and only a small subset of terms had been banned. Now, a broader set of terms has been used, and they expanded into two other categories. So for example, if a Fanbox fetish artist draws erotic art and uses the word "forced" (犯され) in the image's title, it was be force-hidden in the recent wave. And any erotic work tagged with family terms like "older sister" is unacceptable, which would even included, for example, an image of an "older sister" having sex with a complete stranger (just the two of them).

It's worth noting, though, that Fanbox's censorship wave does not instantly ban anyone, it just hides their works by default and forces them to make some kind of "change" before it can be un-hidden. This means that simply removing the offending title/tags, or renaming that with a censor such as レ〇プ instead of レイプ (rape), appears to be enough for their works to be restored. Same as what happened in last May's censorship wave.

Anyway, while a lot of creators are disturbed by what has happened, most of them appear to be sticking with Fanbox. I think the main draw of Fanbox for a lot of creators is that foreign patrons can't access Fantia or SubscribeStar with their credit cards, Patreon censors even harder, and Ci-en's subscription model and features are more limited and awkward.

Update on August 17, 2024

For a condensed summary of some recent events of note, check out the Side Talk section at the very bottom of this unrelated recent post I made.

Side Talk

This post took a while. I had to change my focus and rewrite a large part of it, and yet I still find myself wondering if I rambled on too much about details most people don't care about. I tried to minimize links to Japanese sources, though it's worth noting that if you know Japanese and are interested, the Bunshun article is worth reading. In any case, MGS is the only circle I'm truly excited to see more works from these days, so I hope that they can avoid censorship when they try to publish Femme Fatale on DLsite. They seem to be approaching the point where they can put out a trial version...

Lately, I've been trying to play some of the Western erotic game community's femdom games. It's been interesting. Too many of them are slow-paced VNs, with characters I don't find very likable. I always wish more English language devs would create fun character dynamics like the kind in Crazy GameMaster: The 7 Crystals. I also wish they would just finish their games. Too many of these devs stop developing their main game when they're close to done with it, in order to develop their next game in advance with the hope that they won't lose patrons once they finish their main game. I don't like to play unfinished games, but I rarely have a choice here.

I hope my next post won't take nearly a full year to put out. I have many ideas for posts that excite me more than this post, but I prioritized this post because I felt like the subject matter was more time-sensitive.

[philhoffman]

Yesterday I saw the current NYC production of Death of a Salesman, the first time it’s been on Broadway since 2012. It’s also the first real piece of theater I’ve seen since meeting Phil and getting really into the stage a few years ago.

Brought up a lot of weird feelings! The show itself was incredible, my favorite Broadway show I’ve seen. I love Arthur Miller plays already and making the Lomans a Black family in this production makes their struggle for “the American Dream” that much more precarious and desperate. It’s crazy how much certain lines and scenes (unaltered from the original script) gain new meaning when racism becomes a glaring factor in their lives.

It was amazing to see Wendell Pierce in person and he has such a presence—his Willy Loman is rapidly up and down and pulled in every direction. From photos, I wasn’t sure how the barebones set would work, but the set and lighting was so fluid and gorgeous.

It’s not worth comparing productions so I won’t, but of course Phil was on my mind quite a bit—especially when I thought about general theater-y things, not just DOAS specifically. Seeing the actors, people, in front of you, the feeling of a live performance, give and take between the audience. I kept thinking about how I’ll never see Phil perform live on stage. Theater was his lifeblood and so important to him—it’s so transient and personal and raw and every day, every moment is the only one that matters. It’s a living, breathing art and every reminder that Phil isn’t anymore is so painful.

It was really very awful and unbearable, actually. I can’t think about it can’t write about it anymore. As if DOAS isn’t already painful enough to experience, right? I cried so hard at the show’s finale and the cast’s performances and missing Phil I couldn’t talk for an hour afterwards, just couldn’t speak over the lump in my throat.

Sometimes I’m in a pretty accepting and healthy place with my grief but then it knocks me down again like a bowling ball. It’ll never be over, it will always suck so fucking much. It’s partly that it’s been freezing cold and it’s already almost February again. There’s so much in the city that reminds me of Phil, some joyful and some sad.

[ladookhotnikov]

Why Hollywood Fights AI: Protecting Performers in the Age of Digital Replicas

Just imagine a future where actors do not only draft wills to manage their property but also create a list of forbidden activities – detailing what they can’t be made “to do” after death. A kind of ‘afterlife rider’. It sounds like science fiction, but it’s rapidly becoming a reality.  However, such measures may become routine with the digital cloning industry evolving. Right now artificial intelligence is reshaping the way we think about personal identity and legacy after death.

While actors usually dream of immortality on the silver screen, those who are famous have already achieved it in a way. We can see their faces and hear their voices in countless films. But should we use AI-generated replicas of these performers after they're gone? 

I am not sure I want to see my favorite actors in new projects after they’ve passed away. There’s something unsettling about it. But many other people are thrilled by the idea.

I can understand it when actors pass away unexpectedly, leaving unfinished projects behind. But what about situations without this necessity? The debate has been heating up ever since AI became sophisticated enough to create digital clones, nearly indistinguishable from real people. 

Hollywood's battle with artificial intelligence is escalating. Members of the industry are worried they might be replaced with digital copies. California regulators are now actively involved in drafting AI legislation. One of the bills awaiting approval from Governor Gavin Newsom aims to prevent unauthorized AI replicas of deceased performers. Under this law, anyone wishing to create a digital clone of a late actor must first obtain their family’s consent.

We see how AI is reshaping entertainment. Its potential is amazing, but we must be careful to prevent the blurring of ethical boundaries.

[sultanaislammow]

There is no “shortcut” for new tea drinks to go overseas

For China's new tea brands represented HE Tuber  by HeyTea, developed countries such as Europe, the United States, Canada and Australia are the second battlefield for "going overseas" after Southeast Asia: whether they are international students, new immigrants or local residents, they all have a strong interest in tea drinks. , the new tea drink market is growing rapidly.

Long before the Heytea London store was finalized, Mixue Bingcheng had already opened a store in Sydney, Australia. On February 12 this year, on the first day of trial operation of the Mixue Bingcheng Sydney CBD store, the store was full of people and the turnover exceeded 24,000 yuan. Due to strong demand and lack of manpower, stores occasionally encounter problems such as adding wrong toppings and juices.

For tea brands with high popularity and consumer recognition in China, entering the markets of developed countries where overseas students and new immigrants gather can be said to be "bringing their own traffic". They can quickly accumulate popularity with Chinese consumers and then launch it through Attract local consumers through localized products, social media operations and other methods.

However, at present, new tea drink brands in mainland China want to open up markets in developed countries such as Europe, the United States, Canada and Australia. Their biggest competitors are the many milk tea and fruit tea brands from Taiwan, China - the road that new tea drink brands in mainland China are about to take in new markets, China Taiwan’s bubble milk tea brands have been through it before.

In the 1980s and 1990s, as Taiwan residents immigrated to Europe and the United States, they also brought the unique food drink pearl milk tea to these countries. Whether it is the older generation Chun Shui Tang or the new generation COCO, there are many brands, all of which have more stores and higher recognition overseas.

In the past few decades, Taiwanese milk tea has become more and more recognized in Europe and the United States. Many celebrities have shared their experiences of drinking milk tea on social media. For example, after Bill Gates was recommended a cup of bubble milk tea by Chinese actor Simu Liu at the "Time Magazine's 100 Most Influential People" award dinner, he posted on Twitter: "I have added bubble milk tea to my favorite beverage list. middle".

Celebrity effect has made milk tea popular in Europe and the United States. Europeans and Americans who were accustomed to drinking coffee began to become curious about this oriental beverage and were gradually attracted to it. According to Google Trends statistics, in 2021, searches for milk tea-related terms in the United States increased by more than 760%.

In addition to Taiwanese milk tea, tea brands founded in Europe and the United States are also strong competitors to new tea drinks in mainland China.

Recently, Ume Tea, a Ume Tea store founded by Chinese engineer Li Jiachun and rooted in the Bay Area, received millions of dollars in seed round financing. This financing was solely invested by iFly.vc Capital and is mainly used for team improvement, supply chain improvement, product iteration, store expansion, etc.

Ume's products include fruit tea, Oreo milk tea, surprise cup series with toys, etc. Compared with mainland overseas brands, Ume understands the local market better, has established a relatively stable supply chain, and has a higher degree of localization: it does not deliberately choose areas where Chinese people live, and non-Asian customers account for about 40%. On Tik There are high traffic on platforms such as Tok and Instagram.

At present, Ume's nine stores are all directly operated stores, all of which have achieved profitability, and the payback period is no more than one year.

As for Heytea, although it is more popular among mainland students, considering the exchange rate difference and higher labor costs abroad, the price of Heytea overseas is bound to be slightly higher than in China.

In Singapore stores, the price of Heytea's signature products reaches 5.8 to 5.9 Singapore dollars, which is about 30 yuan, which is about 9 yuan higher than in China. It is not difficult to imagine that in the UK, where the exchange rate difference is more obvious, a cup of Heytea may be a luxury in a certain sense for international students.

The higher prices overseas make it difficult for international students to regard new tea drinks as daily consumption. Therefore, new tea drinks must be localized.

Compared with Heytea, which has just gone abroad, Taiwanese milk tea, which has been overseas for many years, and Ume, which was founded in the United States, are relatively mature in terms of localization. Taiwanese pearl milk tea has become the most popular type of milk tea among young people in Europe and America, and Ume has also attracted local consumers with its unique decoration style and operational activities.

Most European and American consumers prefer high-sweetness drinks, and the model of Heytea cheese milk cap + cold brew tea + fresh fruit is relatively light. It will take time to attract more European and American consumers through localization adjustments; in addition, Heytea is The application of social media operations, peripheral co-branding and other methods that are customary in China also requires more thinking, practice and running-in when applied to foreign markets.

In 2018, the British "Economist" magazine once wrote an article about new tea drinks, regarding Heytea as a strong competitor to Starbucks, and believed that the wave of bubble cheese tea set off by Heytea may bring about "the rebirth of the global tea industry." .

However, in the following years, Heytea expanded aggressively domestically but tended to be cautious and conservative in overseas markets. It is still the milk tea brands from Taiwan, China that shape European and American consumers’ perception of milk tea.

It is not too late for Heytea to go overseas, but it is obvious that it has missed the best opportunity.

For Heytea and many mainland tea brands, Europe and the United States are second overseas markets with huge growth potential. However, to truly turn the European and American markets into the second growth curve, we still need to face difficult challenges.

[placesthatchangedpeople]

Daisy H. at the Midwest Center For Youth & Families

I went to South Shore Academy willingly, asking my family for help. This facility's staff uses force and threats to control the patients. On their website, it says from their patient surveys that over 90% of patients were satisfied with their care, understood their medications, etc. I too took this survey, here's the reality: a staff member handed it to me while I was crying and stood over my shoulder while I filled it out. She then guilted me about my answers and told me I was lying and had me either justify my answers or choose a better score. There was a section where "favorite staff" could be listed and she "suggested" to me who to list. These surveys do not represent patient experiences.

Staff would do whatever they wanted. Staff would routinely express their controversial political opinions against the wishes of some other staff and the residents. Staff members would express their physical attraction to underage characters and actors in movies residents would watch. Staff at one point threatened my whole unit with "cavity checks". (They did not go through with it.) Staff would use blatant judgment and call patient's families' parenting styles "horrible". The "patient advocate" was also the head therapist (essentially the boss of the program) so when grievances went to her, it was nothing she wasn't already aware of, nor would she address the issues. In her defense, she may not have had administrative power to do anything, which is a bureaucratic problem in itself. Staff even gave kids with severe allergies (noted in the patient's charts, which they routinely admitted they did not read) food that would send them into anaphylaxis against the child's request, saying things like "it won't kill you". Staff spent a large chunk of their time complaining about how little they get paid and making a point of it to express how unfair their jobs are, mentioning things like how they can't get through their shifts without multiple energy drinks. A staff at one point was heard late at night complaining about a "frequent flyer" patient at the Kouts facility saying "I wish he would have just got it [suicide] done already; he's the worst!" I routinely saw staff put children in holds, once with four different adults lying on top of a child, one on each limb, kid face-down on the ground, with the nurse onsite checking their pulse every five minutes.

The nurses did not have personal boundaries and would routinely touch/hug/grab patients without their consent. Nurses also routinely attempted to give patients the wrong type/dose of medications and refuse to administer PRN medications saying that "the patient was becoming reliant on drugs and not trying hard enough to use therapeutic skills" (to kids with no history of substance abuse.) The doctor was a whole different story. He also used the "not trying hard enough to use skills" line. He refused to address my rapidly worsening tic disorder, telling me "they aren't tics" which my pediatrician and neurologist at home adamantly disagreed with, and dismissing me and all of my concerns and complaints about side effects of my medication.  

Patients were only allowed to talk about their feelings, diagnoses, beliefs, religion, past experiences including trauma, etc. about three times a week: once in individual therapy, once in family therapy (if you were lucky enough to be invited), and once in process group (group therapy) (again, if you were lucky enough to be invited). I could write a whole book about my experiences and the things I saw there. To her credit, my therapist was pretty good, especially given the (judgment:) impossible position she was put in at this workplace. In conclusion, please don't send your kid here.

[xgryffinwhore]

Hey! Can I request a jaeden martell x reader where basically their charters are dating on a tv show and they are really really good best friends in real life and they they both go on the Jimmy fallon show and he keeps on asking if they’re dating because everyone thinks they are and when they say no he obvi doesn’t let it go lol and it ends up slipping up that jaeden did/ does have a crush on reader and they maybe end up sharing a kiss in front is Jimmy & audience & stuff😶just an idea i had 😂:)

i love this idea wow, thinking i’m going to put my own little twist on it but i think you’ll still be pleased ;)

just friends

warnings!: suggestive topics, fluff

word count: 2.1k

five

your face was being touched up with powder, the cotton pad dabbing at your nose as the white powder absorbed into any oil your face may have had.

four

you look over at jimmy, this wasn’t your first talk show, but it had been the biggest one with the most following. it was intimidating, you bounced your foot up and down and played with your hands.

three

behavior jaeden had grown to recognize. he knew you better then you knew yourself, your anxiety was worse then you put it out to be. “you ok?” he questioned, “fine, i’m fine” you painted a small smile on your face. but he wasn’t easily fooled.

two

he grabbed one of your hands and rubbed circles into your palm, this sent vibrations of relaxation down your spine.

one

his eyes locked with yours, you swore they were a different color each time you saw them. sometimes more blue, sometimes more green, sometimes dark with mystery, sometimes light and playful.

‘aaand where on air’

you wiped the hand that was interlocked with his off on your dress, it was clammy. the curtain came up fast, and your vision was soon flooded with bright lights and silhouettes of bodies.

making out the faces in the sea of people was impossible, but you knew your friends were out there. they had flown out to see you, a) they could go see new york and b) you were on national television, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

jimmy was talking, you knew that much, but your nerves took over and honestly you weren’t registering a damn thing he was saying. the crowd cheered, you snapped out of your daze.

“and here tonight, we have jaeden martell and y/n l/n from the new HBO tv series: turning tables”

he turned to both of us, and gave everyone time to clap. he tired to speak over the loud hands, moving on with his show, but the crowd made that difficult. eventually the clapping died out and he could continue.

“now, i’ve watched all of the episodes but, for the people who haven’t seen: can you explain what the show is about?” he looked a jaeden, you let go of a breathe you had held in.

“s-sure” jaeden turned to face the audience more, he was soft spoken and shy, so it was important he projected as much as he could.

“turning tables is a teen drama. it’s about families of poverty in the seattle washington area and how they struggle to go to school and work. my character, jennings cooper, is the main protagonist. the show is mainly from his point of view, and how he struggle to support his family.”

jimmy nods and smiles, he looks pleased with his explanation. i’m truth the show wasn’t that simple, he knew that. but, it would take so long to explain.

“and y/n, who do you play?” he knew the answer to this obviously, but you were becoming a crowd favorite. everyone loved your personality, and you were an up-and-coming a list celebrity.

“i play parker marlow, jennings girlfriend” you blushed at this statement, the crowd giggled and ‘ouuu’ed. jimmy rubbed his hands together, getting excited at the upcoming topic of discussion.

“so, your romance on season one was steamy” you thought back to the scenes you did together. all of the kissing, which felt normal at this point. he wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact- you didn’t mind it at all. your romance through the season built up to a sex scene, your mind flashed through the memories of filming it.

filming those scenes isnt half as steamy as you think it is. it’s awkward, you laugh a lot. you had never felt that exposed in your life! however watching it was different, it looked so real, so perfect.

you blurred out your thoughts, mr. fallon still speaking on the subject. “can we expect more -“ jimmy searched for your ship name, it was on the tip of his tongue. the combination of your first names on the show didn’t make an attractive combo. it was either jarker or pennings. your last names matched a little better.

“-carlow” jaeden finished for him. jimmy nodded and smiled “yes- carlow- can we expect more carlow next season?” you both looked at each other and smiled. the writers for the show already had the next four seasons laid out. you knew that carlow was a continuing relationship on the show.

“yes, you should expect more of that sort of content from us” you stated. the people in the crowd had a positive responce to this, the applause lapping until it died out once again.

“right, your characters have so much chemistry in the show. two struggling teens just trying to break even.” jaeden agreed “yes, our characters balance each other out, and being from the same background helps them associate. jennings is kind of a bad boy-as the ladies say- he’s a felon, he steels cars and sells them to counterfeit manufacturers and dealers for money. parker, y/n’s character, has a job at a diner. she shows him the light at the end of the tunnel if he chooses to go down a good path.”

“yes, parker gets jennings a job at the diner with her, and he falls for her sweet disposition even after everything she’s been through” you add.

jimmy licks his lips and pops another question: “so id imagine the chemistry in the show heightens the real life thing?” he cocked an eye brow, the group gasping at the intrusiveness.

“jaeden and i are just friends” you blurt out, your nerves working up again. it was hard, you liked jaeden ever since you had your first kiss with him.

“y-yeah” he stutters, he obviously wasn’t expecting this either “friends” jimmy shakes his head and puts his finger on his lip “recently, you both have been showing a lot of pictures of you two together on social media.”

the audience ‘awwwed’ at the photos that displayed behind you. on the screen, there were pictures of you and him that were on both of your instagrams. you two at gardens, getting food, even watching movies at each other’s houses.

“for just friends, these photos looks intimate , wouldn’t you say” a bunch of ‘yes’’s and ‘mhm’’s came from the crowd as both of your faces became red.

“we’re just best friends, honestly” jaeden laughed nervously, he fixed his hair with his hand has he always does.

“right right- can you tell me when this photo is from?” jimmy asked, the last picture flashing on the screen. it was of you both, you had just filmed your first scene together.

the first scene you filmed together was episode two, he saved you after you fell into ice cold water. it was how the characters met, and it was filmed at a cove on a windy august day.

the picture was a little blurry, but it added character. he had his arm around you, both of your hair soaked, and you share a huge towel. you remember how cold you were, your teeth chattered so rapidly. his hair was stuck to his forehead and more small pieces went up. and your lips were almost purple, half from the makeup, half because you swore that was the coldest water you had ever went in.

“that’s from when we first started filming, it was the first time we met in the show” you recited, re living the memory in your head. you remember jaeden pulling your head into his chest when the wind began blowing. you remember his thumb trying to create friction on your back to make you just a little warm.

“yes yes- you two look so adorable!” jimmy squealed, he was the most teenage-girl-grown-man you had ever met. his hand opened one of the drawers in the faux desk he sat behind, pulling out a small blue camcorder.

the camcorder.

you know how on tv shows, there is special footage? sometimes it’s just behind the scene specials but sometimes- sometimes - it’s footage the actors document when they were just having fun? yeah it was one of those camcorders.

the camcorder was brought in by the two other co hosts wyatt oleff and finn wolfhard (i know this cast is sooo original not really) they played jaedens two best friends on the show. while they weren’t filming, they’d dick around and talk about stupid stuff. you’d never seen what they filmed, but you had been featured quite a few times; their by them pranking you, or invading your personal space.

you looked over at jaeden, you watched his adam’s apple bob and a thin layer of sweat flush over his face. he bounced his leg slightly, a habit he had picked up from you.

“let’s just review our material here” jimmy teased, his tongue darting out between his teeth. the video began to play, the sound was loud; assumingely for jaeden quiet voice in the tape.

the video started with wyatts unsteady hand, him and finn were running around set, they stopped at jaeden, he was playing on his phone in his trailer.

“jaeden wesley we have come for you” finn yelled. you could see jaeden shoot up from his chair. “hey guys” he waved. they talked for around a minute, jokes and all. then finn started to giggle, wyatt zoomed in on jaedens face.

“so jaeden, how’s y/n?” he chuckled, jaeden blushed “she’s ok i guess dunno.” wyatt stopped zooming in when the only thing in frame was jaedens head. “the kiss was good hm?” wyatt asked. jaeden continued to play on his phone, he nodded. “yeah, she’s pretty cute too.”

the video cut to another segment, this was filmed after the sex scene. you knew because jaeden laid on the bed you, in the same underwear that he wore during the scene. the boys were jumping on the bed, and jaeden took the camera and talked to it.

“this is for memory and memory ONLY! h-hey y/nnn” he was talking to the camera like it was you “you’re amazing and cool” you could hear finn explode into laughter as he stole the camera back and started running “yeah! and he wants your babies and loves you so much-“ “SHUT UP FINN!!!” and jaeden chased him around.

the video was taken off the screen. your face had become close to ghostly white. it was weird, it was almost like he was dumb enough to think finn wouldn’t give jimmy this blackmail goldmine. you looked at jaeden, he hit his bottom lip until it was red, he itches his neck and laughed it off.

“yeah ok-ok jimmy, maybe i liked her back in the day” jaeden tried so hard to be casual, but jimmy hit him with a heart stopper: “but mr martell, the last clip was filmed less then a month ago!”

your mind flickered with memories and ideas of him.

your first time meeting, how good his hand felt in yours. when you wiped icecream off his chin, and him dotting icecream on to the top of your nose. the way his hair always fell perfectly above his eye brow. and SHIT how he always smelt so fucking good. how he let you fall asleep in his arms and how he never complained when you put on some stupid romcom and-

“y/n?” jimmy questioned. “huh?” you spaced, come on y/n you gotta stop doing that. “i asked how you felt about all of this.” “well, there isn’t a right word i can use.”

jaeden took this has a bad reaction, he did a small wave to the crowd and stood up to get off the stage.

you stood up, grabbed his hand, and laid one right on him. kissing him felt normal, but now that there was emotion behind it, it just felt so right.

you both stopped for air, the crowd went wild. jimmy was clapping too, you could barley hear them, your heart was pumping throughout your whole body. you swore jaeden could hear it.

after the show, you sat in your dressing room for a bit, contemplating the events of tonight, and how they were all broadcasted for your embarrassment. but it was only the beginning. only the beginning of what was to come for mr. and mrs. jaeden martell.

[whereeammii]

the litg s4 cast in my celebrity au idk if i’ll actually write or not…

warning: most of them are actors because it’s easier to make them interact with each other that way.

will: mc’s co-star and love interest on their very popular tv show. think game of thrones, the walking dead, bridgerton type hype. they’re not the main characters but they are the fan favorites. he’s known in the industry for being very upfront about his flighty and non-committal habits.

angie: known by her fans and within the industry as “the scream queen” angie is horror movie royalty. many people even forget her debut role was on a medical drama and often get surprised when they see her in anything other than a horror film. she does make a badass villain though.

thabi: this girl is buff and beautiful so i elected to make her an olympian athlete. originally, i wanted to choose snowboarding but i also like the idea of her and gymnastics. tbd. she oftentimes forgets she’s also famous and claims her two celebrity crushes are will and her fellow senior olympian henrik.

najuma: full-time model, part time actress. after experiencing all the amazing things a model can, she admittedly got a little bored. which is why she took up acting on the side. she thinks it’s important that other girls who look like her see themselves in her modeling jobs though which is why she will never quit altogether.

lexi: she did start on broadway but then she took up a role in a sitcom and her career skyrocketed. it’s something that everyone associates her with and her character is a fan favorite. this, unfortunately, makes it easier for her to amass a loyal following and get away with a more underhanded attitude. she is notoriously hard to work with.

hazeem: one of the most respected and talented directors in the industry despite his younger age. some call it nepotism considering one of his own parents was a huge director themselves—and perhaps that does play a part in it—but you can see with each of his movies that he actually has the skill to back it up.

james: a highly coveted screen-writer and while he has a big heart and impeccable manners, it’s common knowledge that he’s actually quite picky about the projects he takes on. he puts his all into every project so he wants to make sure it’s something he genuinely likes and will enjoy working on.

kobi: when he first stepped into the spotlight, it was alongside his childhood friend cora. the two of them formed a duo band together and for a good few years they did amazing. in the end, they decided to split up but only because kobi recognized cora needed more room to shine and he felt much more comfortable as a behind the scenes producer anyway.

bruno: a rapidly rising comedy actor and token comedic relief. people often ask him if he ever wants to do something different—and maybe he does, but if it ain’t broke don’t fix it and all that. he’s enjoying himself and his gigs for now and that’s all that matters.

youcef: once in the fashion industry, always in the fashion industry. starting out his career as a super model, youcef eventually decided to make the switch to fashion designer. he had far too many ideas for him to just be content with looking pretty. these days, plenty of his pieces can be seen in the closets of A-listers.

valentina: most commonly known for her most popular role playing a regina george type character. given how intense her vibes are and how well put-together she often looks, it always surprises people to learn how chill she actually is. she has some of the best online interactiveness with her fans and many of them feel like they genuinely know her.

juliet: she fancies herself a triple threat, but truly the only thing on her roaster is her job as a super model. admittedly an impressive feat. even so, any sort of interview or event with her becomes far more tedious than it needs to be when she has a habit of giving out unsolicited advice.

tom: another pretty english boy but tom takes this in stride. it took a lot of courage for him to pursue this dream instead of the one his parents had planned for him so he always does his best to be as authentic as possible…even when he’s playing a part.

cora: once known as part of a two-person band with her best friend kobi, cora is now a widely popular soloist. while it was her dream, she had some reservations about leaving him behind, but now he’s her producer so they still face it all together. now if only she could do something about those pesky commitment issues…

kelly: another actress in the show with mc and will. she got her ‘big break’ while she was working at a bakery in year 12. originally, she was aiming for broadway but instead fell in love with film. her small hometown will forever boast that they are her origins.

tiffany: a comedian with her own show on netflix. has a great community with her fans and does livestreams and other interactive activities often. used in tons of memes and referenced a lot. think john mulaney.

oliver: never actually aspired to be famous. believe it or not, his grandmother was actually a famous actress herself and as he got older, people often approached him with job offers. he was content to work as a tattoo artist but he decided to go to one audition with his friend. he spent so long pretending he didn’t like acting, that he never realized how good he was at it. nowadays he mostly does movies but he did just get casted in a highly anticipated exclusive mini series.

dylan: a professional volleyball player. there’s not much else to it. he does his best to be devious but he’s not quite as successful as his current girlfriend lexi yet he still somehow manages to get off the hook. blame corruption. most people claim she deserves better than him but they’re more alike than people think.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Oh I just got hit so hard with Professor!Compress brainrot. Yes I’m still on my college au bullshit okay I know.  But I need to get it out of my head so here ya go:

18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 1k

Pairing: Professor!Compress x Gender Neutral!reader

Warnings: professor/student dynamics, mild innocence kink, smut, alcohol mention, power dynamic play

He’s teaching in the theater department, or something similarly arts related. One of those weirdly eccentric profs who’s so painfully handsome despite how strange and unreadable he seems in classes.

Professor Sako would absolutely be the type to enjoy having a drink with some of the students he’s closer with, especially if they’re participating in some of the shows he directs or he’s helping advise them on their own thesis work. Genuinely really likes to listen when you info-dump about your favorite playwright/author/artists etc... He just finds it incredibly attractive to have intelligent conversation about your shared interests.

Also it gives him an excuse to see your face all lit up and so excited that your favorite award-winning prof is showing an interest in you.

He gets drunk more off that light of adoration in your eyes than he does the wine.

Atsuhiro will find himself seeking you out in his auditorium classes, calling on you more and more often to come up on stage and help demonstrate—even if this isn’t your major or field of study, even if you’re just here for the easy credit, he’s rapidly starting to view you as a muse of sorts.  

Not just because you’re attractive—god knows you are though—but you have substance. There are complexities to you that make you so fascinating to him and like any good professor, he wants to help you realize them. Bring them to fruition. He sees your potential, that’s all.

Potential to be molded into something perfect for him.

He’ll send you innocent emails, asking you to stop by during his office hours and canceling any other appointments all under the guise of advising your class work. It’s inconsequential if you both end up on the small sofa he keeps that makes the secluded room feel more comfortable, door closed and legs pressed close together as you open up to him about all the creative ventures you’ve thought of but were always too scared to pursue.

There’s no money in art. Why major in a hobby? You have to be a genius to get noticed.  

Atsu is so kind, so understanding, so supportive of you when clearly everyone else in your life has begged you to give up on your dreams.

It doesn’t even matter if he truly believes you posses the skills to succeed. Because he’ll craft them for you, he’d do whatever it takes to make sure that bright, unwavering, absolute adoration never leaves your eyes when you look at him.

He decides then that he has to be the only one you’ll ever look at that way. 

And if he convinces you to audition for the debut of his newest passion product—one he’d started in secret the moment you stumbled through his classroom doors, so lost and begging for him to pull you from the tempest of scrambling student bodies. 

Pleading with your eyes for talented, wonderful Professor Sako to scoop you up and make a masterpiece of you. 

You’ll be a stunning lead, he tells you, and he knows your apprehensive. 

So many other far more qualified students are fighting tooth and nail for the chance to perform under Atsuhiro Sako’s direction, and he understands your anxieties. 

But he doesn’t tell you how completely unfounded they are. Doesn’t tell you that the leading role is you. Was always meant to be you. Because he wrote it for you. No, he wants you to think you got here on your own when the cast list is sent around and you come crying into his office to throw yourself rather unprofessionally into his arms. 

Words of thanks and praise fall so easily from your lips, he just can’t help the smirk that forms on his. 

And it’s the same smirk he wears when he fucks you so sweetly on the prop room couch after rehearsal that first night. You’re so pliant and willing under him, so full of devotion to this man who’s handed you your dreams on a plate. It doesn’t matter that someone might creep back into the theater late and discover you or that the ghost light which illuminates the stage has him thinking that the spirits who come to perform for the empty rows of seats might watch instead. Might become an undead voyeurs to your coupling, might applaud as he pulls gorgeous sounds from you underneath him. 

He’s an actor at heart. 

He has always thrived with an audience. 

It’s delicious, he thinks. And when he tastes you again in his office the week after that, buried between your legs as you lean on his desk--it’s even more divine than he could have imagined. 

He never lets you go after he’s gotten started and sweet, innocent you is swept along for the ride of your life. 

Suddenly you find yourself at his apartment after Friday night rehearsals—he prefers to give you his notes in private, of course. And you just keep forgetting those lovely lines he’s written just for you. 

It’s late into the night but he isn’t going to stop, not until every word is burned into your memory—just like the feeling of his cock mercilessly pumping into you. Script in one hand and your abused nipple in the other, Atsuhiro has you nicely laid up in his bed, legs around his waist as he rolls hips into you while you run scenes with him. His pace is slow enough to keep you just on the edge, thrusting sharply whenever you get a line wrong. He steels himself, remains outwardly unaffected while he fucks you until you’re so incoherent the only words he can wring from those perfect lips are:

Atsuhiro, please, let me cum...

And he does, because you’ve earned it. Been so good for him. 

He tosses the script aside and pounds into your heat and tangles your tongues together and losses himself in that look of worship on your face as you come undone.

And then he’ll do it all over again, because it’s his job to teach you, to perfect you. 

You’re his star and his work of art—his vision come to life. 

Molded carefully for him. 

Only for him.