I'm a Fandom Girl, Cut Me Some Slack

I'm a fujoshi. My lifelong hobby is making fanworks and letting my kinks run wild. I transmigrated, bringing along a hard drive full of doujinshi. Up to this point, it's still pretty easy to accept. But the problem is, when I opened my eyes, my fave was staring at me with a serious expression. "You're awake." "So, can you tell me what those files on your hard drive are about?" I turned around and saw that the screen nearby was displaying the eighteen-rated doujinshi I'd planned to bring to a convention. The person in front of the screen was examining the files pixel by pixel. Oh, right. The tags on the doujinshi were discipline, training, and all that stuff that would get censored on Green River. And the male lead of the doujinshi was standing right in front of me. I want to be alone. * Tip: As you can see, this is a mindless little guilty-pleasure story where I let loose. Awkwardness and melodrama abound, with cringe and social death hand in hand. Our goal is to reclaim all the underwear! (Not really.) It won't be very long, and I'll probably start it ahead of schedule. Please take a look at me! 2024.2.10 Idea saved Theme: People should respect one another.