#imposter syndrome: unlocked

[bi-focal12]

currently experiencing Yatora Yaguchi levels of artistic distress and turmoil ✌️

but don’t they all look so lovely <3 <3

[prael]

Perks

Kinktember Day 10: Mirror

Twice Mina x male reader smut

words: 4,108 Kinktember Masterlist

Do you ever look in the mirror and see someone who isn't you?

It was a simple question—if a rather loaded one.

"No," said Mina. "No, I don't think so. Not in a bad way, but maybe in disbelief of who I've become. Sometimes I expect to see the same person I was almost ten years ago. A simpler me. Maybe a more nervous and afraid version of me. That sort of thing."

"My therapist told me that was imposter syndrome," you said. "It's common, but it's pretty fucked up, the way we act like we're lying to ourselves."

"Have you thought of seeing her again?" Mina asked.

"God, that'd be awkward, don't you think?" you responded.

Mina paused, holding a glass midway to her mouth as if thinking, 'Between you and her or you and me?' Then she seemed to decide and smiled to herself, "Right."

Mina never erred into the intrusive or tactless. It's why you never have the impression that she is nosing around your life, because she gives you all the leeway to share only what you wish to share. And maybe that's why the both of you have lasted this long; in this arrangement, you found this unique level of trust, and you dare say it makes you damn good together.

"Our friend over there at the end of the bar looks like he can't take his eyes off you," you told her without looking up from your drink, not to draw attention. Mina chanced a discreet glance from the corner of her eye.

She quirked an eyebrow at you, "So? Feel threatened?"

You laughed into your drink before taking a mouthful of it, and then you told her, "I was about to get up, but you know that as soon as I do, he's going to come over."

"Of course, he will," Mina grinned into her own glass, then tipped her chin back to get at the last of it. "You go ahead to the room, I'll let him down gently." She patted at the front of your suit coat, above your breast pocket. It was a playful gesture. She had barely touched you all night until then.

"Early morning tomorrow, Mina, don't waste too much time now."

Mina smiled her "oh-shut-the-fuck-up" smile, before tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear and running her fingers through the thick long black strands. You smiled to yourself and signalled to the bartender.

It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be longer still. Hotel bars had become a sort of ritual for you and Mina, you share a drink the day before you close a deal, half in premature celebration and half as a good luck charm.

And the thing is, Mina is a flirt. Through and through. Charm and wit. It works on clients, and it's an asset. The only problem is, it worked on you. It wasn't difficult to recognise your attraction for what it was, and she obviously took notice of it too. And you, well...

You're a professional, so you would never, ever let yourself act on it. This is why you returned to your room, alone, and why ten minutes later you heard the door open to her (conveniently joined) room. You're professionals, if you're going to fuck, at least you try to hide it.

The adjoining door opens. Oops, did you leave that unlocked? How silly of you.

"Sorry about the wait. Didn't want to seem rude, you know." She leans against the doorframe.

"How long after I left?"

"Barely a minute, he did the whole 'You-look-familiar' bit, so I humoured him..." Mina cocks a smile of arrogance. "For a minute. Before, you know... Letting him down gently."

"Did he go quietly, then?"

"He tried to ask me if I was sure I wanted to be alone." She shakes her head slowly as she saunters forward. "I was sure. Sure about coming up here and riding you senseless. Didn't tell him that, of course, just up and left. Anyway, for tomorrow, I was thinking—"

"Let's rewind to that part about riding me senseless, shall we?"

A playful smile takes to the corners of her mouth. "Let's."

You climb up from the bed, your shirt hangs loosely from your body, no tie at the neck and untucked from your trousers. "So, would you say it's going to be more of a—"

"If you are going to finish that with some terrible sex metaphor, I will kick your ass so hard." She kicks off her heels at the door. That long black dress she wore earlier is long gone, replaced by the lightest of sheer black chemises and a pair of little lacy black underwear.

"Kick my ass," you tell her, placing a hand on each of her hips. "Sure."

"Be quiet." She whispers it before she kisses you, deeply and softly. The sort of kiss that makes you forget yourself. Your arms circle her waist, and her arms rest on your shoulders. You savour it, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her tongue, the feeling of her hands trailing across the skin at the nape of your neck.

But in due time, that kiss breaks apart. Her hand trails down the front of your dress shirt, button by button, she has undressed you so many times now that the motion seems so familiar, and practised, but she still takes her time in doing it, as though with every undone button her anticipation is built upon.

You place your hand against the curve of her hip, thumbing gently, with feather-light touches along the black fabric, her small waist and wide hips, firm and round and so shapely in just her lingerie—your hands could have found no better resting place.

As you slip out of your shirt, Mina slips the delicate straps off her shoulders and the skimpy piece falls away from her body like petals around her feet. Mina is bare for you, save for her panties. Her tits might not be as big as her ass but your mouth still waters at the sight of them.

"Look at me." You love it when Mina demands that, love how she smiles with smug confidence when you have nothing to do but oblige her. Mina turns herself around, and your hands slide down, down the generous arch of her back and cups around her round, firm ass.

"Oh, come now," you can't help but tease her, "How very complacent of you, to think my eyes would look at nothing else but you. You know that I am a man of refined culture." You knead at the ample flesh in each palm, so soft. "I am very clearly an admirer of the finer things in life."

"How very romantic," she laughs, sliding down her underwear with a shimmy of her hips before placing her palms flat against the wall. "Go on then. Enjoy the art, like the cultured man you are."

There is something intoxicating about watching her there, propped against the wall, naked for you, your cock uncomfortable in your trousers. You unbuckle the clasp of the belt, then, in the pause, you approach, letting a single finger trace up the arch of her spine, leaning closer to her neck to whisper, "Not right here. Look over there, the mirror."

A floor-to-ceiling mirror, to be specific. She smiles a devilish little smirk. "And what of it?"

"Mina," you tell her, pressing the front of your trousers against the curves of her body, against the supple flesh of her ass. "I want to see all of you when we fuck. Every beautiful detail."

Mina purred, content. "Spoken like a poet..."

You land a solid and deliberate smack against that big ass of hers, and she lets out a groan. "Don't let it go to your head."

Mina let out an effectual moan, knowing fully how it tempts you. You roughly press your body against hers as she does it. Hooking both your arms around her naked form, you pull her to where you want her, right over to the mirror.

"That's it, take me like you want to." She presses her hand flat against the mirror, pushing back those delicious curves against your body once more. You force down your slacks and underwear until the cool air envelops you, at least until you push against her body once more. You cup both your hands at her full ass, slipping your stiffness between the cheeks and rocking back and forth. Mina is biting her bottom lip as she looks back at you in the mirror, and you look at nothing else but her deep dark eyes, her face framed by that long, dark, glorious hair.

"Your ass. This. This beautiful, beautiful thing of yours, drives men wild, drives me wild," you breathe out as she rocks herself back into your groping hands and your hard cock grinds between her cheeks, slow and methodic. "Drives me a little bit insane."

She deepens her bend, lowering her shoulders level to her ass, and her face presses against the glass. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip again, peering over her shoulder, a shameless erotic, willing for you to take her in the most raw and depraved way. You can't deny the effect it has on you, and it has you raising your right arm, palm poised to land another satisfying spanking to her ass.

The crack rings out through the room, and she lets out a soft, sweet little, "Oh!"

You wrap a hand around her, over her stomach and down between her legs, reaching for her sweet, slick cunt, and find her soaked, wet with arousal. Wet for you.

"Fuck, you're so horny," you utter hoarsely. You drag your fingers through her juices as you drive your stiff cock over her tight asshole, so much teasing, maybe too much, perhaps too tortuous. You groan into the shell of her ear. "You get so wet for me. So wet. You need it so badly."

She moans, grinding back against you and circling her hips as if it could ease her pain. Half teasing, half goading, she says, "Maybe you should stop fucking playing around and do something about it."

She hisses when you drive your two slick fingers inside her without warning, pushing deeper in one smooth motion, as you mutter into the crook of her neck, "Impatient, aren't we, Mina?"

"Just fuck me."

In response, you slowly withdraw your fingers. She gasps against the mirror, the palm of her hand curling flat into a fist. Her words get you harder as she tries to wiggle her ass and spread herself, desperately trying to draw your dick to the slick pink centre of her sex for you. She doesn't care anymore what this does to your discipline, doesn't care at the prospect of you breaking, turning this into a savage, ravaging of her body; what matters only, at this very instant, is that she gets filled and fucked, fast and hard.

Finally, you give her that. Draw your cock out from between her cheeks, sliding the tip down between her legs, feeling the moisture that glistens on the swollen lips. You don't bother to strap up, or even ask, it's long since established that raw is how she likes it.

Slowly, you push forward. Mina sucks in a breath through her teeth. You know by the arch in the small of her back, the little trembles, that it is taking all her concentration and willpower not to throw her hips back, to force you to the hilt.

You bite the edge of her shoulder, and a shiver travels down Mina's entire body. You pull out, a little, before driving forward a little further.

"You feel..." you groan, your cock feeling like it was engulfed by satin. You sink a little further. "Fuck."

"Mhm, go on," her eyelashes flutter as you begin to take her, in this raw, animalistic way. "Tell me how it feels."

"Every time is like the first time," you continue, sliding in slow, then deeper, bit by bit, until you're all the way in and her big, round ass is pressing hard against your abdomen and her thick thighs against your legs. "You feel warm and slick and tight and wet, and oh, God..."

A sudden thrust forward as her greedy cunt squeezes the length of your shaft. A delicious whimper that sends blood to your head. A long, shaky groan slips from the both of your lips. You buck hard into her ass and watch as it ripples at the contact. "Ah! There, yes. Fuck," Mina moans.

There are two of her, perfect reflections, two Minas taking a rough pounding from behind. Each little expression on her face, each beautiful feature is visible in the reflection. And behind that her body ripples just like the one below you, and she whimpers, helpless as you penetrate her over and over.

"F-faster." She whines. "Harder. God, fuck, fuck me harder."

Mina has always liked it a little on the rough side, so you grab a handful of her hair, ball it in your fist, and pull. "Tell me, how does it feel?" You rear her head back so she has to look at herself in the reflection and tell it to herself. You pick up the pace, beginning to relentlessly pummel her from behind as you bury yourself into her tight heat as deep and hard as you can.

"So... Ah! So good." You yank her hair again, making her ass tense, making her gasp. She pants hard, short and fast as the force and strength of each thrust get stronger. "I love it when you... fuck me like this." Her chest begins to heave up and down. She raises her ass even higher for you. "When you—God, ah! Ah!—make me want to scream..."

You feel that incredible warmth building and swelling in your abdomen as her sex drips around your shaft, and it is so hard to slow yourself down when her ass slaps against you in perfect sync with your every motion, when Mina's knees shake, when her desperate moans urge you to never, ever stop. Still, you would like to do a little something before she orgasms all over your cock.

You roughly jerk out of Mina, pulling away abruptly with no warning.

"No, no! Don't stop!" She cries out immediately, her greedy body already missing yours. The flush at her neck spreading, blossoming down—her shoulders pink. "No!" She whimpers as she tries to throw her pussy back against you.

She cries out so pathetically that she doesn't protest when you roughly turn her around and lift her by her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around your hips and sink her to the hilt onto you. You sink her down and up and down again and again, bouncing her on and off of your aching cock in front of the mirror, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from finishing the moment her tightness wraps and flexes around you.

"I'm gonna cum so hard, I swear, I can feel it," she gasps in time with your rough pounding, arms holding onto your neck tightly, fingernails digging into your shoulders. "So close, don't you dare stop."

The harder and faster you go, the louder and harder she screams, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. She digs her heels into your back, pushing down against you so there's nothing left for either of you but pleasure. You pound hard and heavy into her, chasing her orgasm, and when that perfect heat grips all around you and consumes you entirely, there is nothing in the entire world that compares to it—to this. The thought that very soon you will be cumming inside Myoui Mina.

It is that pure bliss, that power and sense of total control, of giving her such pleasure that you're left moaning along with her, revelling in this wonderful mess. Your bodies are sticky and tangled and you just start to let it go. Filling her pretty cunt as you have so many times before.

You grit your teeth and struggle through the overstimulation, taking satisfaction in how the trembling in her legs persists, her breathing ragged and body shaking. Doing your best to fuck your load into her—she's just so into that sort of thing—you don't think that there's anything, truly, that is better than this.

Not when Mina whimpers as she weakly presses her nails into the skin of your shoulders and when she knows not how to stop trembling. Your limits are worth pushing for a woman like her.

But even then, limits are ultimately undeniable. Her full weight in your arms, your knees weak, your legs tire beneath you and finally, as you plant a series of gentle kisses along her neck and shoulder, her mouth gasping, her nose against your cheek, you give in and fall to your knees. Mina's back leaves a mark of where it was once imprinted against the glass.

"So..." she laughs breathlessly into your ear as you sit with her on you. "Do you think management has any idea how often we fuck during these trips?"

"I imagine that if they found out it would be both of our jobs on the line." You hold a hand on her lower back, keeping her upright and then place your mouth on one of her breasts. Her nipple is firm, you suck on it and run your teeth over its delicate surface. Mina keens with her mouth falling open and her lashes fluttering, a small quiet "ah" escaping from the back of her throat.

"Guess we better stop," she jokes, breathing out in a chuckle and gently, pushing your forehead away from her chest.

You chuckle dryly into her neck, wrapping both arms fully around her naked body to pull her closer. "Something tells me you won't really be able to help yourself."

"Punishingly handsome, smart, a sense of humour—" She reaches down to where your half-soft cock is planted within her cunt. "—Great cock, excellent fuck" As though it were some sort of sales pitch. "No. No, I can't help myself."

"Is this about next week?" you ask.

"They never split us up, we're a team, so why would they send you with her instead?" Mina rocks her hips slowly on your lap. You groan into the crook of her neck.

"It's a one-off, Mina. In two weeks we'll be travelling together again." You wrap your arms around her soft, warm skin and run them down her back. "Another hotel, another set of adjoining rooms."

"Yeah," she sighs as she lazily continues her grinding. "Or, we could... See each other outside of work, you know. Like normal people do."

"We're far from normal, Mina." You let out a soft sigh as you start to harden inside her again. You pull at the small of her back, urging her on. "We're having our fun, right? It works. What reason is there to rock the boat?"

Her arms move up your chest and onto your shoulders. With that same teasing voice of hers, "There's always room for more fun. More sex." Mina pushes hard on your shoulders, and you fall back into the soft carpet. Mina is above you—over you—all-powerful beauty and you want nothing more than to grab her hips and drive up, and into her. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her arms. Her pert little tits beg to be held. Her face, with flawless skin and those few prominent freckles, is decorated with a filthy smile.

"Two weeks, Mina, two weeks and we'll be back to doing this." You caress the silky soft curves of her sides. "Two more weeks, and then it's a real long trip. Just me and you."

She's visibly more excited, and she rides you harder now than just a gentle grinding and you hear the little wet sounds of your cock plunging into her cum-filled pussy over and over again. Her breasts bounce beautifully, and finally, you do cup one in a hand. A playful glimmer dances in her eyes, along with the lust haze. Mina's wet thighs slap against your hips, the sounds are vulgar in the best way.

"I'm going to fuck you every single morning and night for the whole trip," you tell her, and her grin widens. "Then you won't want for a thing."

Your words only seem to encourage her more, to fuck you harder and harder. She's riding your cock wildly but never has her eyes left yours. She fucks like she does everything else; with every fibre of her being, her passion is unbridled and intense. And oh, when she whimpers, it makes a hot current run straight to the end of your spine, it gets the heat in your head pulsating. That's just what Mina does to you.

"Two weeks without me. You're going to be so frustrated, Mina, so needy. You're gonna make me a promise."

"Mhm?" she gasps.

"You're going to wait for me," you say. "After tonight, for whole two weeks, no cumming."

"No," she says through clenched teeth. "Absolutely not."

"Yes, Mina, absolutely."

You clasp your hands on her hips, slowing down her speed. "Promise me."

She almost struggles to find her voice. "No way. I can't!" Her hips fight against your hold, she fights to drag her cunt over your cock and just feel the pleasure you're denying her. Mina grits her teeth, and the pain is evident on her face. "Okay! Just please fuck me now." She twists her body, trying to release from your hold.

"Promise."

"I promise. I promise. I promise!" Mina squeals, nearly shrieking as you soften your grip and thrust up into her quivering, wet heat. You let her fuck you again and she picks up right where she left off—frantic and wild. She leans in to kiss you deeply, and a little whimper spills from the corner of her lips. "Fuck. Cum inside me again."

The eagerness with which Mina rises and falls on your cock, her pussy taking in all of you, demands only one thing. Cum—the mess of you both—spilling over and running out, all over you and the floor and ruining the hotel's carpet.

"Yes," her voice cracks, high and soft, "Oh fuck. Fuck. God, I'm gonna cum."

It's good, your hands gripping her body firmly, matching her pace, and taking the chance to look behind her, at the mirror, where you can see your cock bury in and out of her again and again. Slipping up below her ass that ripples beautifully every time your hips meet.

Mina cums not even ten seconds later. With an eruption of screams louder than you've ever heard, shudders all over, and more fluid spilling between you both. She's struggling and you feel it. You slap her ass and follow with a groan of words halfway between an instruction and a plea. "Don't stop."

She doesn't stop. She sits up and throws herself back, reaching for something to balance on. A hand against the mirror, her legs spread and her body present to you, she fucks that pretty pussy down onto you so fast, she's struggling to maintain the rhythm but her nails are curling against the glass, her brows are pressed so tense together, her body shakes all over and a cry comes again from that lovely mouth.

She cums again like this as if it's a show for you and what a fucking show it is. Her legs tremble so hard they lose purchase and you begin lifting yourself up into her and the sight, the sound—her sounds—and her perfect body is making you buck and press harder into her. You've become so mindless, so desperate and hungry for her body. You can hardly keep yourself from spilling into her for a second time. But not yet, you think. Not yet and not there.

Mina's leg buckles. She fights for air. "Can't," she chokes out, breathless and shallow. Nothing left to give you. She slips from her perch, collapsing to the floor, leaning against the mirror. Her dark hair matted with sweat, her pale skin gleaming. Her expression is dreamy. "On me. Just finish on me."

On Mina, a work of art. Over her pretty face, or those luscious tits, or that soft tummy. Over that thick, firm and oh-so-perfect ass, or those equally tasty thighs. Maybe even just glaze over her messy cunt. Her eyes flicker as she looks up at you, and you have a decision to make.

"Anywhere. Cum wherever you want."

[critterbitter]

SUBMAS MASTERPOST

Hello, my name is Crit (he/them.) Welcome to my SUBMAS art blog, @critterbitter! It is sfw, but please take care if you are a minor, as I’m Old. Thanks! To reach my main blog, please direct your attention to @proxycrit .

This is a masterpost of all the art and comics I’ve done for the funny train men so far. Feel free to browse and definitely feel free to comment!

(Here’s my kofi as well! If you wish to tip. If you want wips, here’s my patreon!)

All work can also be found under #myart.

Comics/Art List:

A SUBMAS spotify playlist-- Post Hisui Muppet Council

Emmet and eelektross— you and your dog get sent to feudal japan

Ingo and lady sneasler— you weigh like a bag of grapes

Emmet, meet volo

tynamo and emmet’s first meeting (they become friends instantly)

Litwick and ingo’s first meeting (they become enemies immediately)

Aftermath of training

The starters perform care on full grown men

Committing war crimes on both eel and man

Submas kids— the Snack that smiles back, litwick edition

Box shenanigans (caricatures of the children)

Emmet and litwick come to a deal

The difference in starter relationships boggles the mind

Good morning, litwick (good night, lady sneasler.)

Ingo fights his inner envy demons with the communication stick

Coat flapping

You are Beloved, Lampent. That’s all. 

A jackie at gear station

Tynamo evolution blues (this is funny)

The imposter syndrome sets in (it is no longer funny)

Library blues (elesa should be paid for carrying books)

Sassy night light

Happy eel dog

The joyful ordeal of evolution

Eelektrik boa (a gold standard!)

Lampent discovers discourse. This becomes everybody's problem.

Nimbasa trio walk and talk

Couch party (it's poll time!)

SUBMAS AU: Conventional Starters

Lampent is an umbrella, if you squint

Happy Holidays!

Eel-esa outfit (cause, you know, she dresses like an eel. Get it? Get it?)

Scheming

Master of manipulation.

They left Lampent in a Deino's Parking Lot

"These are our Exoskeletons, Elesa."

Chance meeting

Forbidden Lore Unlocked

Introducing Elesa, the New Kid from Sinnoh

Elesa and Blitzle

Outside the crowd

Volume Control

COLLAB: Forgiveness is Electric

Volume Control (Reprise)

Food Exchange

Electric starters

Homesick

Metaphorical and Literal Rat Children

Trouble starters

Snapshots: Route 3

Snapshots: Castelia City

Snapshots: Virbank Complex

Snapshots: Desert Resort

Snapshots: Route 8

Snapshots: Nimbasa City

Snapshots: Celestial Tower

Snapshots: Pinwheel Forest

Snapshots: Route 18

Snapshots: Anville Town

Snapshots: Undella Bay

Snapshots: Flocessy Ranch

Snapshots: Route 10

Snapshots: Driftveil City

Snapshots: Twist Mountain

Snapshots: Relic Passage

Snapshots: Route 6

Snapshots: Opelucid City

Snapshots: Chargestone Cave

Snapshots: Dream Yard

Snapshots: Route 1

Snapshots: Striaton City

Snapshots: Black City

WORLD BUILDING

Giratina and Arceus

[daportalpractitioner]

pisces degrees in the natal chart (12°, 24°)

12° = starseed. the planet tells you about your spiritual gifts. natual connection to your spiritual DNA. feel disconnected from earth family. potential for telepathy to be your strong suit. don't be so hard on yourself. flakey. not a lot of friends. very empathetic. strong intuition. mystical. escapist tendencies. peter pan syndrome. sensitive immune system. toxic positivity. inherent wisdom. needs to unlock certain codes in order for life to make sense. aware of spiritual purpose. came from a line of healers. very compassionate. dreamy outlook on life. creative. inspiring.

24° = spiritual practitioner. strong manifestor. a very painful experience of loss + death. innerstands metaphysics. needs to learn the importance of staying devoted to faith/spiritual practice. must make painful sacrifices. deep shedding taking place in this lifetime. past life wounds wanting to be healed. past life trauma coming up. intense shifts + activations to embody your innerG(od). tests of integrity. divorce self-sabotage. don't run away from your purpose. imposter syndrome. fighting addiction. commitment issues. many soul mate encounters from past life. break up with self-neglect. very protected by divine council. mediumship skills.

[notapradagurl7]

Not A Hero.

Black Fem! Reader x A Train.

Summary: A Train arrives back home to you after a rough night of being a “hero” and came to you in your room for whatever he needed to do or hear from you.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @siqueth @harmshake @soft-persephone

Warnings: PWP, profanity, mention of Homelander, mention of death, imposter syndrome, reassure, mention of violence, cum play, nipple play, praise, dirty talk, consensual for both parties, unprotected sex(wrap it up)

————

Reggie approached the front door with his eyes on the window, seeing you on the couch watching television. He exhaled a breath of relief and looked back through the neighborhood to see if anyone watched him.

Did he deserve you? You were kind and reliable, yet didn’t take shit from anyone.

Using his key, he unlocked the door and nudged it open. Meeting your gaze, “Hey Reg, how was your day?” you asked in a warm tone.

There you were, sitting pretty on the couch watching an episode of Law and Order. He closed the door behind him, locking it quickly.

“It was fine, some old shit..” he said with a dull tone, quickly walking into the bedroom. Lifting your chin to peck your lips.

Changing into his pajamas and threw his superhero suit in the trashcan. Reggie walked back into the living room with you, sitting beside you, giving a warm smile.

You've noticed that he changed, well at least that is what you hoped for briefly. A search for redemption, a change. Something from you.

Reggie has been through a lot, trying to make amends with his brother, literally killing Blue Hawk only to keep the piece of shit’s heart after he had a heart attack. He didn't feel like a hero.

Homelander was weird too, but he’s always been that way. You hated that guy.

He went by his hero name but only you get to call him Reggie.

You turned off the TV, giving Reggie your full attention. "Reggie, talk to me. What's really going on? You can't keep carrying this burden alone," you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek.

Reggie sighed, his eyes meeting yours. "I don't know, Y/N. Sometimes I feel like I'm just not cut out for this hero shit. Like I'm not a hero at all," he admitted, his voice filled with self-doubt.

You cupped his face gently, looking into his eyes with unwavering support. "Reggie, listen to me. You may not feel like a hero, but to me, you are. You have a good heart, and you're trying to do the right thing. That's more than most can say," you reassured him.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "Thank you, Y/N," he said gratefully, leaning in to kiss you deeply.

But still, the feeling lingered in the depths of his mind. He felt everything was safe with you, he could be himself and not A Train.

The kiss quickly deepened, passion and need fueling the moment. Reggie's hands found their way to your body, exploring every inch as if trying to memorize you.

You moaned softly, he peppered kisses along your neck and collarbone. the intensity of the moment sending a rush of desire through you. "Reggie, please," you whispered, your hands tugging at his pajama top.

He didn't need any more encouragement, quickly stripping you both of clothing until you were both bare and exposed to each other. His thick dick rested on his thigh and grabbed it with his hand.

“Come here baby..” you sang playfully, your finger motioning him to come closer.

Pushing his dick between your wet folds, you gasped softly and your head fell on the pillow. Feeling every inch of him inside of him, “Reg..fuck, you're so big..”

He picked you up by your thighs, with your knees resting on the couch. His hands rested on your waist. “And you're so fucking wet already..” he moaned, bouncing up and down on his length.

Reggie's touch was reverent, his fingers tracing every curve and dip of your body. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asked, moaning a bit, Everything was normal with you, better with you. Your wetness trickled down on below, to creating a small pool on the couch. His mouth found yours again, kissing you with a hunger that matched your own.

As the night unfolded, the doubts and insecurities faded away, “Y-you..fuck..have me..” you moaned again, your nails left welts on his shoulders. He didn't have to be someone else, your mouth parted widely, words were caught in your throat. You couldn't speak, replaced by passion and pleasure, He was just Reggie, the man you loved.

Your climax arrived, your essence gushed all over his dick and he gazed upon your face twisted up in pleasure, he kissed your lips after pulling out of you.

He carried you into the bathroom, gently seated you on the closed toilet lid.

He turned on the shower to wash away the evidence of your lovemaking. The two of you stepped inside, cleaning yourself. The warm water cascaded over both of you, cleansing not just your bodies but your souls as well.

Reggie held you close under the water, his arms wrapped around you protectively. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You smiled up at him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over you.

"I love you too, Reggie," you assured him, running your fingers on his shoulders.

————-

[thebibliosphere]

The second best thing about fourth wing is I suddenly feel like my own queer disabled genre novel (wip) is gonna be baller, actually. Imposter syndrome out the window.

The best thing about fourth wing is I have suddenly unlocked Power Of Listening To Audiobooks for the first time in my life. I suspect because only half the time my auditory processing crapping out is why I feel like I blacked out and lost the plot, the other half the time it's just the writing. (And I'm primarily spite motivated)

Thanks for triggering this happy afternoon of popcorn munching at this whole nonsense. Currently trying to wrangle a slowly flooding basement so it's the best day to suddenly have something slightly less infuriating to distract me while I can still do other stuff :)

Listen, if this can be an NY #1 bestseller, we all have nothing to worry about. Write that WIP.

And ooft, sorry about the basement. I hope it goes okay!

[patrasche-enjoyer]

I suppose it is neither unfair nor untrue to say that Subaru craves connectivity to other humans, something that was certainly fostered by his youth, which was plagued by loneliness and isolation due to his more than complex relation to his father, his imposter syndrome as well has his anxiety disorder, all of which came to their worst climax in his high school years.

Of course, as soon as he is reincarnated and can "start from zero" as the title of the series would imply, he takes the opportunity to reconnect with others, as many of us would do too. However, due to the inherently isolating nature of RBD, he quickly falls back into his old habits of searching for connectivity without actually baring his true self to others. Of course RBD isn't completely at fault for such behavior, Subaru still carries wounds from his past, he never confronted his issues nor did he unlearn harmful habits, even with a "fresh start", it was impossible to truly get better.

[Side note: I do really enjoy that re:zero does not just take into account Subaru's previous life, but also the hardships he had to face back then and doesn't make them seem like lesser struggles in comparison to his newer problems]

Of course, caring about someone deeply and them forgetting about you entirely, as would be the case with RBD, could, at its worst, break almost everyone. So it is not strange, in fact, that Subaru, who is already starved for connectivity, would come across as near obsessive over the people he cared about, especially from the perspective of others who do not remember him from previous loops.

My man Otto doesn't have that fucking excuse tho, he saw Subaru for like a minute and was like "hey is anybody gonna obsesse over that?" and not wait for an answer, my man is ready to kill not just himself but eradicate entire fucking countries for Subaru, there is clearly something wrong with him and being around Subaru clearly unlocked some awful part of his brain

[deusvervewrites]

Apprentices:

It was mentioned how Izuku would unlock Smokescreen first due to his personal issues. I could only image how that vestige conversation would play out

En: Congrats, Ninth. Your Imposter Syndrome was so great it managed to awaken my Quirk

Izuku: I think I have a problem

Midoriya, So Damn Tired:

[t4tozier]

thinking about the intimacy of disabled reddie after derry 2.0

cw: internalized ableism, accidental self harm (via tics)

eddie has really bad imposter syndrome when it comes to his symptoms because he finally came to terms with the fact that his childhood illnesses were fake and so he gets in his head about it a lot

it doesn’t help that he gets phantom pains even though he can’t feel his legs anymore so it freaks him out a lot

but richie’s always there for him to vent or talk about his fears with and he always seems to know exactly what to say to calm eddie down, reminding him that it’s okay to need a wheelchair now and for richie to help him with certain tasks and that it doesn’t make him weak

richie really tries to balance helping eddie with things and not being overbearing so he does worry sometimes but they learn to communicate more openly so that there’s no built up resentment or anxieties on either of their ends

richie gets tic attacks where he hits himself repeatedly and his neck jerks and he tenses up and can’t stop it or unlock himself and he can’t get any words out because he’s just humming every second and eddie doesn’t try to stop him because he knows it won’t do anything but he strokes richie’s hair and distracts him with stories of his last outing with bev or the phone call he had with stan and it helps richie to have something else to focus on

and after it’s over eddie will massage the knots out of richie’s neck and shoulders and rub icyhot into his skin (their house is always stocked) and he lets richie lay on the couch with his head in eddie’s lap so he can rest

when it’s rainy richie’s joint pain tends to be worse so they typically don’t go out much those days, they stay in and order takeout and watch silly movies and eddie will massage his feet even though he hates feet because he knows it helps for when richie stands back up even with his crutches

richie ties eddie’s shoes for him every morning. eddie has an album that’s just richie in different positions tying his shoes. kneeling down, laying on the floor, hanging off the end of their bed—it’s silly and eddie loves it because it makes him feel better about not being able to bend down even in his chair

they take turns making special baths for each other when they’re in more pain than usual, lighting candles and putting epsom salt and essential oils in the water, and then they’ll wash each other’s hair and body so so gently

decorating each other’s aids. cleaning them as a nice surprise when it’s been a little too long since the last time. making sure to always have at least one bottle of tylenol and tube of icyhot in the house at all times. reminding each other to take their meds. like i love them so so much i just think they’d treat each other so well

[neonponders]

I’m not an OG Harringrove person (I call myself a member of the “second wave” lol I watched ST at the end of 2019 and got into the fandom while Harringrove for Australia was popping off in 2020) but I’ve noticed a reoccurring trend in posts/mentalities.

So many of us question how to be more active in fandom. What can we do differently that will get us more interactions? Really, what can we do to be more appreciated? During my time in this fandom, I’ve gathered good news and bad news:

The good news, is that any negligence we feel, isn’t our fault. We feel like something personal is going on, but really, everyone is just living their lives. So many OG’s are older, married, have kids, and have scary big kid jobs. People’s lack of interaction with us actually has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with them just trying to successfully exist lol

The bad news is that we, for some reason, are convinced that praise is intrusive. That rolling up into someone’s tumblr mailbox is the exact same as unlocking their house and yelling, “HEY. NICE COUCH. GOOD TASTE.”

I’ve been there, and I continue to visit this imposter syndrome place, because I’m a nasty little goblin who needs to be pat on the head as much as anyone else. Now for the deep dive:

Humans are pack creatures with an intrinsic need to create. Easy examples are food, and cliff drawings. It’s not enough to eat a banana right off a tree. We take the risk of putting it to fire and creating a different flavor profile. One of the oldest pieces of human art are some animal outline carvings in the side of some Egyptian cliffs that overlook a stretch of the Nile. Archeologists and anthropologists theorize that these are the first signage we ever made: “Hey heads up, these animals live in this mile-stretch of river. Yes, there’s deer here, but also hippos. Hunt wisely.”

These two traits combine into a neediness that doesn’t know how to be satisfied. Worse, we’re in a broken society that doesn’t celebrate the artist/creative anymore (if it ever really did). And that’s so hypocritical. Artists have kept people alive and happy just as much as the hunter and cook.

We create writing, art, edits, videos, etc and share share share share share....because it’s a stupid little wacky gift of stardust in our brains. This human trait trickles down into us making our silly little fanfics and art projects of rotten characters finding peace, getting plowed after a slow-burn, or just making tea for each other.

The honest truth is that creating isn’t enough. Yes, we do it for ourselves, and we always will. We need to create the same way we need water. The unfair flip side is that we also need our pack to answer us when we ring that bell.

All I can tell you is that life is hard, and more than likely, we see the stuff you’re posting for us. And we’re wildly grateful to you. We’re just trained to think that telling you how special you are, and how grateful we are, will make you disappear.

A star died eons ago and gave us its stardust. It’s unfair that shining is hard but we do see you.

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part three) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1, 2

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: internet stalking, innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), vague mention of one night stands, low self-worth, a little angst, loneliness, imposter syndrome, cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Enjoy :))]]

Richie was not delusional. Stupid, yeah. But delusional? If anything, he was oblivious.

If someone was into him, he knew fuck all about it.

That being said, what he was doing now was not delusional. It was stupid. And Richie knew that just to clarify.

He was up too late again, and he'd say he was bored. But he was mostly kind of curious.

Sometimes he stayed up scrolling through his Instagram feed, usually sort of wistfully. He scrolled through a lot of the couples tags, mostly because he hated himself. And then he had a thought, a spare thought.

of course you are fuckface

Right. That happened.

He shouldn't be as affected by it as he is, but he guesses he can't control that. And so maybe he had the thought: are you handsome, Eds?

You know, it feels better when it's from someone fucking hot, right? So, he got curious. And Richie did stupid shit when he got curious.

With unsteady hands he went to his page, a public one (although, if he dug, he was pretty sure he'd find an old one), and simply clicked on his followers. That was the thing about Instagram, you could search through your followers. Which in retrospect, felt a little creepy.

And conveniently, he had his username. Or well, he wasn't so sure of the last name but he remembers the 'ka'. Or maybe that wasn't his last name-

"Beep, beep, Richie," he muttered to himself, before clicking the bar and typing.

'Eddie'

Naturally, there were a lot of Eddies that followed him. He wasn't exactly unpopular on Instagram, although, he was a lot more popular on Twitch.

Social media kind of went hand-in-hand, Richie learned. If somebody followed you on Twitch, they might want to follow you on Instagram, if they follow you on Instagram, they might want to subscribe to you on Youtube-

Focus, Richie, he cleared his mind and started typing again.

'Eddie Ka'

eddie.bellie || ✨️fairy dust✨️ Bell

eddie.kal || Kalee is here

e.kaspbrak || Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie blinked, That one. I recognize that name. Before he could think about it too much, he clicked through to the profile.

Eddie Kaspbrak (he/him)

I like cars 🚘 and know what I'm talking about so you better fucking listen NY 21

Follow back || Message || +👤

Richie's eyes moved ahead of his judgment, as he spotted a photo of him. Or what he could guess to be, it was kind of small but Richie could see it was a guy.

Before he could overthink it, he pressed the post.

His heart halted in his chest.

What the fuck, his brain chanted, he's beautiful what the fuck-

Eddie (or what he assumed to be Eddie) was grinning, the kind that crinkled at his eyes and shriveled up his nose. Richie wondered if he always smiled like that, or if this was special. His eyes slid across the bridge of his nose, spotting fucking freckles of all things, freckles-

He felt a little like he might spontaneously combust. Maybe in a fiery flame.

He thought I was handsome? Him? Holy shit-

Richie paused, flickering through the comments, and eyes landing on one in particular. Two, actually.

mike.me.up✔️: so good to see you happy man ❤️

benny.boy.official✔️: just remember you deserve everything good !!!

What the fuck? He thought to himself, How old is this post?

Checking the date, he recognized it to be about a year ago. In doing so, though, his eyes caught on the caption and he faltered slightly.

"To all those people who said I couldn't do it," he read, carefully, "-fuck you. Look at me now."

Richie bit at his lip, his finger swiped to the next one on the post. It was him again, carefully holding what looked to be a milkshake; if Richie looked closely enough, he thought he might be at a diner. He wasn't smiling as big this time, but more preoccupied with something else -entranced. Richie felt a little like he was floating then. Had he ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life?

Speaking of, when had he ever called someone fucking beautiful? God, he was so fucked.

Before he could stop it, he was scrolling through his entire feed. He'd gotten off mostly without a hitch, just until he was looking at the most recent one.

It was Eddie again, but he was working on a car. Smudges of oil slipped across his face (he really looked like he hated it), and in those cute jumpsuits that mechanics wore, Richie felt a little confused about whether it was hot or cute. He was thinking maybe both.

He's not entirely sure how it happened, but he thinks he thought the newest post might be a carousel. (Where there is more than one picture.) Well, it decidedly was not. And when he tried to flick through them, his phone decided to register it as a double tap.

Richie blinked, once and then twice. Pink heart filling his thoughts while the entirety of his brain flatlined.

"Shit," he suddenly chimed, pushing himself off the bed slightly in panic, "-shit, shit, shit. I just have to-"

He clicked the heart again, and the like promptly disappeared. Richie let out a heavy sigh of relief and threw himself back on the bed. Fucking stupid.

It was probably quick enough Eddie wouldn't even notice it. There's nothing to worry about, yeah. (At least that's what he'll tell himself.)

It was, what, 6 am in New York right now? What self-respecting human being would be up at 6 am-

One message request from e.kaspbrak

Shit.

Richie stared at it for a few seconds.

Maybe like he'd blink and it would go away. He could totally be hallucinating, absolutely. Doesn't lack of sleep do that to you? Or maybe he could just be a dick and not look? There's a lot of message requests that he has, half from bots and half from fans (some weirder than others, let's be honest). He could just say he missed it? Maybe? He didn't owe it to Eddie to respond.

Something was crawling up his throat though, that picture running through his mind. And that message. God, he was just a subscriber, why the fuck was he like this? He'd definitely have to tell this to Steve (his therapist)-

Fluidly, Richie went to his messages. He skimmed some new ones in his primary (mostly friends sending him memes or his mods checking in). And then, with a breath, he clicked on requests.

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

He laughed, mostly because it seemed really in character for what he knew of Eddie. Which, in retrospect, was not much. Enough to apparently make him curious though. Something swirled in him that the man messaging him was the same in the picture -fucking beautiful. Of all ways to describe someone, that's what his brain settled on. God, he really was gay-

Richie debated a few answers for a moment. His mind spiraling, anxiety twisting his stomach so violently that he might throw up. Will probably throw up, actually, he did that a lot when he was nervous-

e.kaspbrak

Aren't you in California?

What are you doing up at 3 am?

Okay, that was not the thing he expected him to comment on first. But, turns out, Eddie was full of surprises.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what are u doing up at 6 am spaghetti

no one wakes up that early

e.kaspbrak

All types of people get up at 6 am dipshit.

You ever heard of a job?

He laughed again and realized he was really fucked up for thinking someone berating him was funny. But then, he got kind of curious. Eddie knew stuff about him. And he kinda... wanted to know things about Eddie. Pathetically.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u have a job eds ??? r u a chef?

bc spaghetti, u get it?

e.kaspbrak

Are you seriously sticking to that one? Fucking spaghetti?

You're a dumbass.

And yeah of course I pay to watch your dumbass, don't I?

He pursed his lips a second, did he not want to tell him? Even still, he waited a second, watching the bubble for a moment.

e.kaspbrak

I'm a barista.

I fucking hate it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe eds in a cute lil apron

i used to work customer service it was hell

And then he paused, thinking. Richie carefully added to the message something more genuine like he was testing the waters. Seeing what he could get away with, without seeming like a creep.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what do u wanna be ?

if u could choose

There was a pause, and suddenly Richie felt incredibly stupid. What the fuck was he doing? Texting someone in chat? Because they called him handsome? Well, he was funny. So, he probably added that to the motivation too.

He had no idea why he was even here, doing this. It just felt... He felt fucking pulled in, and he got curious. But maybe he really was just being stupid-

e.kaspbrak

A mechanic.

And the apron isn't cute, it's nasty as shit after every shift.

His fingers moved before he could stop them. He really was never good at controlling himself, ever.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

who said it was the apron spaghetti ? 😉

Richie stared at the sent message for too long. Maybe hating himself a little bit more, because he was too much. And he couldn't always reel himself back-

e.kaspbrak

You did dipshit. Do you have the memory of a fucking goldfish?

That would actually explain a lot in your streams.

Richie paused -waiting for the other shoe to drop.

e.kaspbrak

And thanks.

You would make a good Eric. Even if you think you wouldn't, fuckwad.

Okay, he thought to himself -maybe grinning a little, not too much. Something unfurling in his chest that felt put away a long fucking time ago. (Maybe a few years, but that was nearly as dramatic enough for Richie Tozier.)

He smiled, maybe a little cheesily bright but that was between him and his apartment walls.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

thanks eds

and i do

it's called adhd

And then he paused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

and i think you would make a good mechanic

e.kaspbrak

How? You probably don't even know shit about cars.

Do you even remember to change your oil?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u are supposed to change that ?

Richie watched as the bubble started up, almost immediately. It made him laugh a little.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just kidding spaghetti

relax

e.kaspbrak

You're such a shithead.

And don't call me that.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

yeah uh no

that's sticking sorry eds

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you dickweed.

And Richie laughed again. Alone, in his apartment, at 3 am. He laughed at a guy in his Instagram DMs.

God, he was so fucked.

e.kaspbrak

It's almost 4 am in California right now.

You need to go to fucking sleep.

Do you know how much not sleeping fucks you up?

It can literally fuck up your brain function and you can't fucking afford that. Yours barely functions as is.

Richie laughed again, and he was kind of thankful nobody lived with him for once. How was he supposed to explain himself? He had no fucking clue.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe spaghetti cares about me 🥺

and my brain 🥺

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you.

Go to sleep.

There was a pause, and he thought for a second he might leave it there.

e.kaspbrak

See you at your stream when you wake up.

Something in him softened, and maybe for once he was excited to sleep. His brain felt a little quieter, more manageable.

He wasn't too much for Eddie. At least for now.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah okay eds

see ya then

And if he slept the best he had in awhile that night, that was only for him to know.

They kept texting for about a week, and just like he said, Eddie was a substantial (he should note) part of his next few streams. Today was his break day though, and he would be lying if he wasn't staring at his phone on the charger. Waiting for it to ding.

Which was a little pathetic, but Richie was okay with it somehow.

And then, it dinged.

Richie almost tripped himself to grab his phone off the charger. And he was glad in that moment that no one was there to see it.

e.kaspbrak

I'm working with my least favorite coworker. I wish I was fucking dead.

I hate her more than I hate you, and that's saying something.

Richie laughed a little, and let himself ruminate. Or maybe he just didn't want to look desperate. It was all kind of the same, anyway.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u want me to come and tell her she makes shit coffee ?

pull my famous card ???

and what did she do ?

e.kaspbrak

You're such a dick.

Richie hoped he was laughing. Sometimes he thought he might be.

e.kaspbrak

She just won't leave me the fuck alone.

If she puts her hands on my arm one more time, I'm going to bite her head off.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

pretty sure that's called workplace harassment eds

u should go to ur manager

And something in Richie made him type more, even though, he really could have left it there. And he probably should have. But he was fucking curious.

Fuck his brain.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

and just call up ur gf

tell her that u need saving

eds the damsel in distress ✨️🧚‍♀️

He gnawed at his lip, fingers dancing along his sheet. He almost threw his phone back onto his chest, or maybe against the wall-

e.kaspbrak

boyfriend*

And I'm single dipshit. Why would I be texting you if I wasn't?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

oh

Richie felt something in his chest flutter. Like a fucking schoolgirl watching her crush play in a football game. If he had a little less dignity (and it wasn't fucking insane in the mornings), he would twirl his hair and kick his feet.

Fucking focus, trashmouth.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

welcome to the club eds

e.kaspbrak

You're single?

Richie pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah ?

have u ever seen a bf on my streams ?

e.kaspbrak

I just thought you had one off camera.

Or something.

He paused a second. That text somehow read as embarrassed or maybe... awkward. Richie wasn't sure how to read it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

well i don't

e.kaspbrak

Well, me neither.

Richie's heart halted in his chest for a second.

e.kaspbrak

Obviously, because she won't stop bothering me.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just tell her u do

or tell her ur gay

e.kaspbrak

How is that her business?

And I can't just lie dipshit.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

it's not fair point

and why not ?

e.kaspbrak

She'll ask me questions.

And I'm shit at lying.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

let me do it for u

i did it for 18 years baby it's foolproof

e.kaspbrak

How the fuck are you going to do that?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just spit out a person for u

i will give u all the details and u can just recite them

no thoughts needed spaghetti

e.kaspbrak

You can just make up a person?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

uh yeah

i used to do skits when i was like 12

by myself

e.kaspbrak

I would pay fucking good money to see some of those.

But okay. Give me your weird fake person.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

jamie porter

in tech school for IT shit

only child

really introverted bc constantly studying

likes jazz and the color blue

u go on classical concert dates sometimes

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

That's not my type at all.

He honestly debated asking exactly what that was but he held back. Because, technically, Eddie knew his type. Which was exactly him. That... shit, he never thought about that.

He cleared his throat.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why would it be ?

he's not real eds

it's just for a lie

e.kaspbrak

Can I just tell you my type fuckface?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why

e.kaspbrak

Because I want to dipshit.

And I already know yours, it's only fair.

Richie felt a little stupid. And a little confused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

okay spaghetti whatever u say

e.kaspbrak

Tall idiots. Very tall, and very fucking stupid.

[limpwristjesus]

Idk but as a transmasc but also a nonbinary lesbian, some of y’all’s takes on Mutsuki’s gender are unserious as hell because y’all will use textbook experiences of dysphoria to argue that he was never actually trans and never consider that his relationship with gender doesn’t have to be a cis one even if he doesn’t feel like manhood fits him. The idea that him thinking he’s trans was simply due to trauma and discomfort with the male gaze is especially unserious because being openly transmasc around cis men is a harrowing experience and if anything it unlocked a brand new flavour of violence. It also made me suicidal and dysphoric to the point I seriously considered detransitioning for some time and I likely would’ve if I wasn’t in community with other trans people.

That’s not even getting into that what really made me understand that I was actually suicidal was the existential dread that conceptualizing being subject to men’s attraction caused me. Considering Mutsuki’s preexisting trauma, and then being terrorized by torso and still being made to play the part of a girl as bait for the auction and the people who landed him in that situation in the first place being his coworkers, I can absolutely him wondering if being trans is worth it and maybe just denying himself and living as a girl might work out better. Especially since that imposter syndrome and dysphoria is very much a thing for trans people irl.

Like if y’all are gonna litigate this y’all should consider the narrative instead of reproducing anti transmasculinity 101.

I don’t have access to the JP raws and I’m not at that point in my reread but take this as a preface to all my future analysis. This post sums up what I meant really well.

[peyton-warren]

Trying to unlock the door to my writer’s block/imposter’s syndrome.

Have been day dreaming off and on for months to write a stand alone adorable as fuck date fic.

Please reblog for wider cast of votes.

[dropout-if]

hi! seeing that last ask got me thinking: would the reason behind dropping out and how mc got into college be related? like, if mc is really smart, could they still think that they are not good enough (due to imposter syndrom)? or if they worked their ass off could they be feeling like burnout or something? hope this makes sense! and also idk when it's your birthday exactly due to timezones lol but I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday! hope that your day is full of joy and happiness :))

You're completely right^^ Each reason (how MC got into college) unlocks different causes (why MC dropped out) with their own flavor text.

Off the top of my head: if MC managed to cheat their way into college and through most of their degree, being caught cheating would have different flavor text than if MC got caught cheating once.

Also— Thank you!! My birthday is actually on the 5th cjajj so dw you're early either way^^ 🫂💕