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thesecretomoblog · 2 years ago

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Omo Questionnaire- Avery

Avery

general / casual (regular everyday peeing behavior lol)

What’s their preferred place to pee? (bathroom, outside, container…etc.)

Avery sorta likes finding new places to pee. After he got his STP, he had a lot of fun going in different spots because he was finally able to do it. First time he peed into a bottle was sort of a big Moment for him, haha. He DOES pee in an actual bathroom most of the time though.

2. Do they prefer to pee standing up or sitting / squatting? At home or in public?

Standing up. He felt uncomfortable NEEDING to sit for most of his life, so from now on he ONLY wants to stand.

3. Can they aim well (or at all)? Which hand do they use? Both? None?

He has good aim, which is something he’s incredibly proud of. He thinks it’s funny that his uncle sometimes leaves dribbles on the rim of the bowl after being able to stand his entire life, while Avery DOESN’T have that problem even though this is something he’s just now able to do.

Two hands are better than one with an STP, so he uses both.

4. Are they vocal or quiet? Do they get chatty if there are people around?

He’ll be quiet for the most part, up until the moment where he finally admits he’s gotta go, after which it becomes ALL he can talk about.

When he pees after having been desperate, he sometimes murmurs things to himself about how good it feels, without noticing that he’s talking.

5. Do they have any unusual bathroom habits? (whistling, leaning against the wall, pants all the way down when standing, looking at memes on their phone, etc.)

Just the mumbling thing I mentioned. He sighs out little comments like, “Ohhh, God, that’s the stuff…” Or “Fuck, that’s better…” When he does this, he’s so lost in his relief that he doesn’t realize he’s saying those things out loud.

6. Do they take their time or do they try to get done as quickly as possible?

He gets very nervous about overflowing his STP, so if he’s able to control his stream, he pees slowly. Sometimes if he REALLY had to go, it’s not as easy to control the speed of his flow, however. Luckily, he’s only peed hard and fast enough to overflow his prosthetic a couple times, and it has only happened at home where he could change his boxers quickly.

7. Are they pee-shy? Do they get embarrassed? If yes, in what situation and by what? (the sight? the noise? people knowing they have bodily functions?) In front of whom?

He can get a little shy around certain people, he really doesn’t like telling Lydia that he has to pee because he has a bit of a crush on her and it embarrasses him. The shyness isn’t so bad that he CAN’T pee in front of her though, and he’s had a few humiliating incidents where he had to do that to avoid going in his pants. She doesn’t mind it, at least. She’s a bit protective of him, so of course she just wants him to be comfortable.

He has difficulty going around people who bully him, the stress makes him tense up so much that he can’t pee.

8. Do they prefer to go in groups or do they want to be alone / need privacy.

Avery feels safest if his uncle goes to the restroom with him, he gets scared using public toilets alone, especially in unfamiliar places. Avery unfortunately has an awfully hard time ASKING his uncle to escort him, because he feels so ashamed of himself for needing a ‘bodyguard’ just so he can go pee, and thinks he’s making his uncle waste his time.

9. If they use the men’s room, stall or urinal? Do they stick to the unwritten bathroom etiquette? (no talking, no looking over, leaving a urinal gap, etc.)

He likes to use urinals, they feel weirdly validating to him… On a few rare occasions, the urinal will be too high for him to use, though (they’re placed according to the average height of a cis guy, and even compared to average cis women, Avery is short.) So, he’ll have to use a stall if he can’t reach.

He does mainly follow the rules. He’ll only pee next to someone else if that’s the only place available and he can’t wait. He definitely never looks at anyone else, keeps his head down. And, apart from the muttering he does when he’s feeling extra relieved— which, again, is completely involuntary and he doesn’t realize when he’s doing it— he stays quiet.

10. Do they refuse to use certain bathrooms? (too dirty, too crowded, wrong type of toilets?)

Avery gets anxious using crowded bathrooms, and will only do it if he REALLY can’t wait until he finds somewhere else to go.

He did once go to a place that only had those squat toilets that you’d see in some parts of Asia or Europe, no urinals or regular sit-down toilets. He’d never seen anything like it before and didn’t know HOW he was supposed to use it, or even what direction he was supposed to face. He seriously had to pee, so he unzipped and tried his best, but he was pissing directly between his shoes and didn’t have anything to really aim his stream AT like he would if he was using a tree or bush. Ended up with a lot of splattering and some unpleasant splashback. He won’t use a toilet like that ever again, unless it’s a choice between that and wetting himself.

11. Have they ever peed in the pool (except as a baby)? On purpose or not?

Nope. Avery is really passionate about swimming, the ocean, fish and all things to do with water. He would think peeing into the water is disrespectful and very wrong. He even went out on a boat with his uncle once and got desperate. His uncle told him to just go over the side into the ocean, but Avery said the fish would be upset if he peed in their home, haha.

Yes, he IS aware that the fish are peeing in the ocean themselves, but he thinks humans should follow different rules.

12. Do they pee in the shower / bath and would they admit it if someone asked?

Only when he was practicing with his STP, once he got good with it, he stopped. Again, he has a bit of a hang-up about peeing in water.

If another trans guy (or AFAB nonbinary person) asked him for tips for using an STP, he would mention how the shower is a good place to practice and that he did it himself. But, otherwise, he’d deny ever having done that.

13. Have they ever locked someone out of a bathroom / kept them from going?

No, he’s very frightened of doing something— even accidentally— that will makes someone angry at him. He’s hypersensitive to things like that. He’s even anxious about peeing in single-stall restrooms because he’ll be worried someone will get there after him who needs it even worse and will then be mad that he made them wait longer.

14. Have they ever peed in the opposite gender bathroom? (if applicable)

Yeah. Before he was out he HAD to, after all. A really strange thing that happened to Avery when he was growing up was that he ALWAYS felt out of place and like he was breaking a rule by going into girls’ bathrooms, like something inside him was telling him ‘This isn’t where you’re supposed to be!’ Little Avery would often look in the mirror inside women’s rooms, trying to remind himself that this was the correct room for him… It was a very surreal feeling, a bit of dissociation almost, I guess. The disconnect between his brain and body was always super strong.

15. Are they okay with or used to peeing outside? Do they do it often?

He thinks it’s fun to pee outside now that it’s so easier for him. He doesn’t do it THAT often, but if he’s in a place where it’s acceptable to pee outdoors then that’s sort of a highlight for him.

desperation / wetting (yk, the actual omo stuff)

16. How do they say “I have to pee”? Are they blunt? Do they use weird euphemisms? Do they get offended if someone uses certain terms around them?

He mostly doesn’t say ANYTHING about it when he needs to go. He doesn’t want to interrupt someone else, or make them worry about him and his needs. He generally won’t say a word until somebody else ASKS him if he needs to pee, at which point that’s suddenly the only thing he can talk about and he’ll begin saying some pretty graphic things to describe how desperate he is.

17. What are some “tells” that they have to go? Who can tell first if they don’t speak up?

He wears a hat all the time and will tug on it when he’s first starting to feel the urge. He bounces his knees a lot, too.

His uncle is the one that can tell earliest when Avery has to pee. He had to learn to watch for the signs, since Avery doesn’t like to speak up about it.

18. If someone asks if they have to go and they do, do they admit or deny it? Do they play it down as much as they can or do they exaggerate on purpose?

He doesn’t deny it ever. He will sometimes try to downplay it and convince the other person that they don’t need to drop everything to help him out. He feels like a burden when his needs become important to someone else.

If he’s REALLY bursting though, then he won’t try to play it off anymore. He’ll be open about how bad it is.

19. How do they act when they’re desperate? Do they get angry? Do they squirm a lot or do they freeze up? Do they get quieter or do they talk more than usual?

To begin with, Avery is actually selectively mute. Stressful or scary situations make it very, very difficult— sometimes even impossible— for him to speak. Desperation makes him go quiet, but he’s not very noisy to start out with so people can’t always tell that the reason he’s clamming up is just because he needs to pee.

He is very, VERY squirmy as well.

20. How do they act when someone else is desperate in their vicinity? Do they try to help them? Are they successful or do they accidentally make it worse?

Avery is a kind person, he would WANT to try to help if he saw someone else desperate. But, he’s also terrified of other people, so unless he KNEW the person in question, he would have a hard time making himself help out.

21. How do they like to be treated when they have to go? Do they want comfort / encouragement / coddling? Are they okay with light-hearted teasing or jokes?

He doesn’t like being teased when he’s desperate. It upsets him a lot. Too much encouragement can make him uncomfortable as well because it causes him to feel like a burden. He mostly just wants the other person to either offer a very fast solution to him, or just forget about how much he needs to go so that he knows they aren’t worrying about him anymore.

22. The same as the three questions above but with accidents (bedwetting too).

Accidents upset him a lot. He’s had several that were extremely traumatic for him, and even if he wet himself in a way that wasn’t super dramatic, it would still bring back all those horrible memories.

Again, he’d WANT to cheer up anyone that he saw peeing themselves, but unless they already had a relationship beforehand, he’d be too anxious to approach them and say anything.

Being made fun of after an accident would be one of the worst things a person could do to him. Speeches about how it’s no big deal would be a step up, but still not that great for him. Mostly, he’ll just want to be left alone.

23. Do they get upset or embarrassed over an accident or do they shrug it off?

Accidents devastate him. They prompt him to hide wherever he can so that he can be alone to cry. Sometimes they can even trigger violent flashbacks of his trauma.

24. What’s the last time they had a genuine full-on accident? How old were they?

He was eighteen. He was made to hold it all day at a school carnival, then when he got to the restroom his bully was in there and refused to let him pee. Punched him super hard in the stomach and caused his bladder to release right there. It was an awful day for him.

25. Have they ever wet themself deliberately? Would they consider doing it?

Yes, he actually HAS done it on purpose before, he was about to be subjected to an abusive practice at conversion therapy and was struggling not to wet himself from fear. Then, he thought if he allowed it to happen, maybe they’d show mercy and decide not to put him through it after all. He peed himself, but instead of letting him go, the ‘doctors’ just called him disgusting and continued on with what they were doing.

26. Do they tend to wait too long or do they go when they feel the urge for the first time?

He ALWAYS makes himself wait for too long. Avery is convinced that he shouldn’t ever ask another person for help with ANYTHING— including a need for the toilet— because it will make them angry or disappointed in him. So, he forces himself to hold it until it’s ‘convenient’, and usually by that point he needs it so bad he can barely stand.

He also occasionally makes himself hold his bladder as a form of self-harm. He tells himself he deserves the pain of needing to pee really badly, and that he DOESN’T deserve to be allowed to relieve himself. Nobody else has realized that he does this to himself yet.

27. Do they have a weak / small or strong / big bladder?

He has a large, strong bladder. At conversion therapy, some of the things there ended up ‘training’ him to hold it well beyond the point of pain.

28. What helps them cope when they have to go but can’t? What makes it worse?

One thing that helps is clutching onto the tip of his STP. He KNOWS that this doesn’t make much sense, as it’s not an actual, physical part of his body. But, emotionally it FEELS so much like it’s really part of him that holding onto it like a desperate cis guy would really DOES lessen his desperation.

Hearing, seeing, or thinking about water makes his urge worse… And since Avery wants to be a marine biologist and those subjects are often on his mind, that’s not a good thing, haha.

29. Is there any type of drink (or food) that goes right through them?

Yep. Sodas do. For some reason, sodas purchased at a movie theater seem to move through him fastest of all.

30. Do they wake up to pee at night or do they sleep through? Do they ever wake up desperate or in the middle of an accident? Do they have pee dreams?

He does have pee dreams, often ones that involve him reliving a traumatic accident from his past. When he has these dreams, and gets to the part where he peed himself, he pees for real and wets his sheets.

On nights where he DOESN’T have a nightmare like that, he will wake up in time to go in the toilet, though.

31. Do they ever pee in odd places / in public? What’s the weirdest place they’ve ever peed in? Were they drunk / on meds, sleepwalking, super desperate, etc.?

Yeah, he has fun peeing in new places. Feels weirdly validating to him. Oddest place he ever relieved himself was into a toddler training potty though— And that one he didn’t enjoy at all! Lydia had been right there, and the potty played a really embarrassing song… But, Avery just hadn’t been able to hold it!

32. What’s the most desperate they’ve ever gotten past childhood and did they make it?

One day at school, he had trouble getting to the restroom. He kept putting it off, or being interrupted on his way there. And he’d missed his morning pee, too, so he had to hold it for a WHILE. Much to his embarrassment, eventually Lydia had to ask a teacher to give him a toilet pass because he wasn’t able to speak up about it. He rushed to the closest bathroom, but it was out of order. Luckily, someone helped him find another one just in time and he made it.

medical / childhood stuff (feel free to skip this ofc)

33. At what age were they potty trained? Were they ever potty-trained? (lol, I hope)

He was eighteen months old. His parents are really old-fashioned, and they used all these older techniques for potty training that got him out of diapers faster.

34. Same question as above but with bedwetting. When did they stop? Do they have one-off accidents in specific situations? (alcohol, nightmares, deep sleep?)

He never wet the bed as a little kid, but he does it fairly often now. Every instance of wet sheets is caused by nightmares.

35. Were they accident-prone as a kid? Are they still like that or did it get better with age?

He sort of was… Remember how I mentioned that strange feeling Avery had inside girls’ bathrooms? How something in his brain would keep telling him ‘You shouldn’t be in here! You are breaking a rule!’ Sometimes, that feeling would cause little Avery to hold it in.

In Kindergarten, he felt VERY uncomfortable lining up with the girls to go pee during bathroom breaks, and then once he was in there he’d feel squirmy inside, like he was intruding on them. He, of course, couldn’t put a name to any of these feelings back then. He just knew he didn’t like them and would prefer to avoid them. So, even when he really DID need to pee, he’d say that he didn’t. Some days, he’d make it until he was at home, other days… He wouldn’t. His teacher got frustrated with him, and his parents were very angry each time they were told to come bring Avery a change of clothes.

It got to the point that his teacher told his parents that being potty-trained was a requirement for Kindergarten, which made them even madder because Avery had BEEN potty-trained since he was eighteen months old and they thought all these accidents were ridiculous.

(Warning: Abuse talk)

His parents were not at all sympathetic, neither asked if there was any reason why Avery was having trouble using the toilet at school, or if something was causing him to feel unhappy. They’d just bring him new clothes, shout at him for the embarrassment, order him to grow up and stop begging for attention, and then spank him when he got home.

Avery’s parents NEVER comforted him after an accident growing up, they only ever punished him for it. Even if there was no reasonable way that they could frame it as being his fault. When he was seven, he and his family got stuck in traffic for six hours. Avery had been telling his parents over and over that he needed to pee really bad. He started begging to be allowed to do it on the side of the road because he couldn’t wait. After three hours of pleading, of repeating over and over that he needed to go NOW, he wet his pants. Once at home, he was spanked for soiling the carseat, called a pathetic baby, and sent to his room. This is one memory that always makes him feel ashamed, even if now he’s aware that expecting a seven year old to hold it for six hours— three of which he spent sobbing in pain from how much it hurt— was completely unreasonable.

Another time, when he was still seven, the door to his room got stuck and he was trapped inside it. He kept banging on it and asking for help, and since this was right after he’d woken up, he really had to go. His parents were woken up by the shouting, and were already irritated with him for that. His Dad started working on getting the door open, though. Avery kept telling him to hurry because he needed the toilet and couldn’t hold it much more, eventually causing his Dad to snap at him and stop helping. “If you wanna complain, fix it yourself.”

Of course, Avery COULDN’T fix it. He didn’t have any tools, much less the knowledge of how to USE them. He cried and begged more, but was ignored. Eventually, he peed his pants and started to sob more. Finally, now that it was too late, Avery’s Dad got the door open and spanked him for soaking the carpet.

When Avery was eight, he had another accident, this one in public. He’d been out shopping with his Mom— Something he HATED doing to start with because she always forced him to try on lots of dresses and put bows in his hair— and he had been BEGGING her to let him go use the bathroom for four hours straight. She kept insisting he was only saying it to get out of the shopping trip, and that he could hold it. Something finally made her give in and take him to a bathroom, but the line was extremely long and Avery couldn’t make it. He cried super hard, he was so embarrassed and frustrated. He’d told his Mom over and over that he’d NEEDED to go, and she’d ignored him until it was too late. Even as angry as he was at her, he wanted her to hug him and make him feel better about his humiliation. But, she didn’t. She called him disgraceful, said she couldn’t believe he’d “deliberately peed” himself “just to get out of shopping.” He was physically punished at home once more.

He lived out in the middle of nowhere, and would often play alone in the fields surrounding his house. He would end up needing to pee eventually, with at least a half hour walk back inside to the toilet. So, he would opt to go outdoors instead. It took him a few tries to learn how to squat without it getting on his clothes, and doing it made him super uncomfortable because he kinda had to look at parts he didn’t want to see. The first few tries, he got pee on himself and would have to wash off in the stream so his parents wouldn’t notice and punish him.

The Summer after fifth grade, Avery and his parents visited his Uncle Brad in New York City. This trip went well— unlike the one that would happen a few years later during which Brad and Avery’s parents had an enormous fight. The biggest problem that occurred during the FIRST trip though, was Avery having an accident when he once again couldn’t hold it in line for the toilet while he was at a big store with his uncle. He’d started to cry super hard, and was so sure he was going to be screamed at and punished again.

But, when Brad saw Avery crouching there, soaking wet and crying, he’d just picked him up in his arms and hugged him, apologizing over and over that he hadn’t found him a toilet soon enough. “You mentioned you needed to go at the last three stores, I should have dropped everything and tried harder to find you somewhere with a bathroom. I’m sorry.” And Avery had cried harder then, because he’d never had someone be so kind to him before.

During seventh grade, Avery learned what being trans was, and finally understood what all his bad feelings were about. That Summer was when the next trip to Uncle Brad’s would take place, the one where he and Avery’s parents had the big fight. Avery had almost come out DURING that trip, but the fight had stopped him. So, he waited until partway through eighth grade to tell his parents.

They were furious. They refused to respect his name or pronouns, they became more strict about what he could and couldn’t wear and refused to let him out of the house unless he was in a skirt or dress. They wouldn’t let him cut his hair at all, and when he did it himself because it had actually gotten so long that it blocked his eyesight, they beat him worse than they ever had before. When they learned he was stashing pants in his locker at school and changing there, when they learned he’d asked a teacher to call him ‘Avery’ instead of his old name, they were enraged further.

And they sent Avery away to conversion therapy. While at the ‘therapy’ center, a lot of the things there would cause accidents. (Warning: This gets intense)

He was sent to one outside the US where electroconvulsive aversion therapy was being practiced. This was extremely painful, it was basically a form of torture, and Avery would often wet himself during the process. Another common punishment was being locked inside an isolation room for long stretches of time, sometimes Avery wouldn’t be able to hold it in there and would pee himself, then he’d be forced to lay in it for days. He’d be beaten with blunt objects, which would occasionally make him lose control of his bodily functions. He started to wet the bed there as well, something he never did even as a little kid. Strange things happened to his mind and body the longer it went on, Avery would eventually cease to notice when he was sleepy, hungry, thirsty, or in need of the bathroom. This would cause him to pass out from exhaustion/hunger/thirst and it would cause accidents.

(Some regular, non-Omo related backstory for Avery, just so you guys know what happened to him next because I don’t want to end this section on all that.)

Through a series of events, Uncle Brad knew that something bad had happened to Avery, and managed to force his parents to tell him what that thing was. Brad flew all the way to this other country and scared the operators of the center so much that they released Avery. (Brad is a very prominent lawyer, so he used those skills to accomplish this.) There was a hearing, during which Avery’s parents gave up their rights and Brad gained custody of him. The center was unfortunately not shut down, as everything they were doing was still legal in the country in which it operated.

36. Do they wear protection or did they wear it in the past? (past baby/toddler-age)

Nope. He never wet the bed as a kid, only started doing it later on when he began to have nightmares. The nightmares are infrequent enough that having him wear something absorbent to bed feels like overkill, and would definitely damage his self-esteem way more than occasional damp sheets do.

37. Do they have any medical issues that make them have to pee more / have frequent accidents? If yes, how do they deal with them? Do they take meds?

Yes, his PTSD causes nightmares that result in bed-wetting. Very, very rarely he will sometimes have flashbacks during the day, and these can also cause him to wet himself.

38. Does anyone know about said issues? Do they talk about them openly or not? (out of embarrassment? fear of bad reactions? because no one ever asks?)

Yeah. His uncle knows, and so does his school counselor, who has suggested to him multiple times that he needs to see an actual therapist to address his PTSD.

Unfortunately, Avery doesn’t want to accept that he has PTSD in spite of having nearly every symptom, because he thinks saying he has PTSD would mean he is ‘overreacting’. He thinks PTSD only happens to people like soldiers and firefighters, people he considers ‘heroes’. Since Avery’s low self-esteem tells him that he’s the furthest thing from a hero, he thinks that means he can’t possibly have PTSD, and that it would be ‘wrong’ for him to seek help when other people have ‘real problems’ and ‘deserve to be helped’.

39. Do they have some trauma related to omo (being mocked / scolded / yelled at for an accident, bullying, weird / scary encounters in public bathrooms, etc.)

Yeah, pretty much everything above was extremely traumatizing. For a lot of it the peeing-part wasn’t what hurt him the most, though.

40. Did they ever have an accident or extremely close call while sick?

Yes. He got a UTI once shortly after moving in with his uncle, because he was scared to go into public bathrooms and didn’t want to bother Brad by mentioning that to him. So, he just held it all day, every day, and made himself sick. Since he’d never had a UTI before he didn’t know what to expect, he just knew that peeing burned him really bad so he tried to hold it. But, it’s also really difficult to hold it with a UTI, so he ended up wetting his pants once while recovering.

#omorashi #omo questionnaire #fictomo #omocute #omorashi fiction #omorashi fics #omo fics #omo fiction #avery omo

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an-aura-about-you · 2 years ago

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the fallout from Martin's dead end cafe job, 2009

The (Brief) Disappearance of Martin Blackwood

From the Files of the STP

Coffee shop romance? Nah. Office romance? Yeah! With a little bit of bailing your supervisor out of jail:

Jon’s flat is small and mostly tidy, just on the right side of lived in before things get messy. There are music charts scattered on the coffee table, a type of foldable futon with some cushions lined up against the wall next to it to form a type of couch on the floor. There’s a little alcove of a kitchenette, which barely looks big enough to hold the kettle in it. The one bedroom has a comfortably unmade bed and a Designated Clothes Chair. The reasoning behind being here is Jon’s flat is closer than Martin’s and he thinks it will be more comfortable to wait here than at the cafe.

Martin wholeheartedly agrees.

“Make yourself at home,” Jon says, dropping off his laptop bag by the coffee table. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before Claire calls, but we could probably get pizza?”

“Sounds good,” Martin agrees, working out how to get to the floor couch. “Alright if I move your table a bit?”

“Sure,” Jon calls from the bedroom, taking off his jacket for now. “And you can stack up the music, too, if you don’t wanna wait for me.”

“Thanks,” Martin calls back.

So they clear off the table, they order a pizza, and they wait.

For what Martin isn’t entirely sure. Jon hasn’t gone into detail, specifically said he couldn’t go into detail yet, that the whole of it will come out after Claire calls. But first she’s got to call. And Martin doesn’t know what happens after that. So, for now, he’s just spending time with Jon.

“So,” Martin begins, tucked in the corner of the room on the floor sofa. “When did you know you were psychic?”

Jon shrugs a little bit from his comfortable slouch next to him, one knee propped up. “Sometime after Claire found me. Apparently, it’s a thing that can just develop. Like allergies.”

“'Like allergies?'”

“Yeah, people can just develop allergies they’ve never had before as they get older. So like allergies if allergies were a brain thing.”

Martin snorts at that. “Not as bad as allergies, I hope.”

“Not exactly great, either. Most of the time, it just is what it is.” Jon folds his arms over his propped up knee. “Claire said sometimes it’s triggered by events tied to the Ethereal Realm. Makes you more susceptible to things like visions of the past, premonitions of the future, thoughts, memories, feelings, pretty much anything that gets broadcast over the ethereal waves.”

“Huh. You don’t think that means I’ll become psychic, too, do you?”

“Dunno. We haven’t figured out any rhyme or reason why this person and not that one. And some people can just be born with it but don’t always know what they have. Which kinda makes sense if you think about it.”

Martin eyes him. “Does it?”

Jon shrugs. “I mean, I didn’t think anything was weird about being ace because, until I learned about asexuality, I thought everybody was like me. Why wouldn’t someone who’s been psychic their whole life think the same thing until they learn about it?”

“Fair enough,” Martin concedes with a laugh. “Though I guess I didn’t have the same luxury? Thinking everybody was like me at one point, that is. I dunno, I picked up pretty quickly that I wasn’t straight, but that’s being the boy dreaming of a prince instead of a princess.”

Jon grins at him, turning to kneel on the floor sofa. “Speaking of.”

“Oh?”

“You said you wanted to go to a show, but we’ve got our album done. I’m afraid it’s princesses this time around, and it’s a pretty tragic ending, but…” Jon shrugs. “Wanna listen?”

Martin nods just as there’s a knock on the door signaling their pizza is here. It’s not long after that the two are set up with their food and their music.

“I really like your narration,” Martin says near the end.

“Yeah?” Jon replies. “It’s hard for me to hear sometimes.”

“Why?” he asks while getting another slice of pizza. “I know you said that before, but you didn’t really explain it.”

“It’s weird listening to recordings of my voice so much. I have to do it for the music to make sure it’s right, but it’s a relief when it’s done and I can go back to hearing my voice the way I hear it.”

“That makes sense,” Martin agrees. “If I think about it like that, I probably couldn’t be in a band. Not as a singer, anyway.”

Jon opens his mouth to say something else when his phone rings. “This is probably it,” he says, picking it up to answer. “This is Sims.”

Martin can’t hear the other side of the call, but Jon grins wide and gets to his feet.

“Excellent,” he says. “I’ll be there shortly.” With that, he hangs up. “Martin, could you please watch my flat while I bail Claire out of jail?”

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?!” Martin asks, standing up to join him.

Jon clasps his hands in front of his face. “Right. Explanation. Ah, the short version: remember how I warned you not to take a job at the Magnus Institute?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s very possible that it’s about to collapse. Business-wise, not physically. Claire has taken… certain actions to free a Mr. Elias Bouchard from someone controlling him, actions that were done with Bouchard’s consent but look very much like an attack on him. So now Claire’s in jail, and I have to go bail her out.” Jon puts his hands on the back of his head. “Is that enough for now?”

“Wait, you’re saying Mr. Bouchard is under someone else’s control?” Martin asks.

Jon puts his hands in front of his face again, as if praying. “I’ll go into more detail later if I can. That’s probably as much as I can get away with saying unless you actually join the Ministry. But I’ve really gotta go.”

Martin thinks back to his flat and the CV he’s been reworking to give to Siobhan for review before turning it in at her office. It’s a little hope, but it’s still there, and from everything he’s been gathering from his own experience, there’s precious little that’s supposed to be said, anyway. So he nods. “Okay. A-and thanks for the warning about the Magnus Institute.”

Jon nods before grabbing his jacket. “Of course, Martin.” And with that, he heads out the door.

Martin can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous or this stunned at a job interview.

Of all the people he planned to talk to about his CV and qualifications, Actual Goddamn Cat Burglar Trilby wasn’t even on the long shot list. (Queen Elizabeth II was probably the last name on the long shot list. This is better, though. Trilby by comparison is respectable.)

Trilby, for his part, carries an air of expertise befitting his years. Granted, Martin didn’t know how many of them were spent under the title Occult Researcher until now, that he’s actually spent about as much time doing this as he had being a gentleman thief at this point. But he wears it well.

“So, good under pressure, experience in a day job that could easily serve as cover, familiar with objects that have ties to the Ethereal Realm, minor ability to bluff psychics that could be developed into a real skill, and-” He picks up a letter on his desk. “-a streak of compassion our office apparently needs. Why Mr. Sims thought to include that last one in his recommendation for you is beyond me.”

“Jon wrote a recommendation for me?”

“As did Ms. O’Malley and Ms. Wyndham,” Trilby adds as Martin attempts to process that. “Which is more than most applicants get, even with relevant schooling. Let’s be honest, an actual encounter is rare among those with relevant schooling but often more valuable.” He smiles. “From my own particular experience, I got more money for a real silver necklace than the concept of a gold necklace.” He collects the papers on his desk into a neat stack. “The Ministry technically has to approve you for you to officially be employed by them, but if they don’t, you’re more than welcome to work for us in the STP. Either way, there’s a job here for you if you want it.”

Martin looks up when he hears someone approaching the new library section he’s been building in Artefact Storage, fully expecting it to be Siobhan. (Who would’ve guessed? New job, same supervisor.) He gives a bright smile, however, when he sees it’s Jon joining him. “Hey, Jon! Was wondering when I might run into you.”

“Hey!” Jon calls in return as he approaches. “How’s your first day of work going?”

“As well as can be expected?” Martin answers with a shrug. “Still a little nervous.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jon assures him before setting down a newspaper on a nearby desk. “Here. The rest of the explanation. And Claire thanks you for your discovery of A Disappearance, however accidental your use of it may or may not have been. It was instrumental in her mission to liberate Elias Bouchard from the control of Jonah Magnus.”

Martin looks over the newspaper article, a curious case of an attack on the head of the Magnus Institute in which Claire Wyndham was found gouging Elias Bouchard’s eyes out with a serrated knife.

“Frehorn’s Blade,” Jon explains, pointing out that part. “She could’ve used anything, really, but Frehorn’s Blade allows the user to take control of the mind and soul of the one they kill with it. Makes banishing someone like Magnus easier. God, I wonder what kind of earful he tried giving Claire before she did.”

“And A Disappearance?”

“Helped shield her from Magnus, who had made his deal with the King’s Eye and has powers similar to that of a psychic. Hence…” He points at his own eyes with two fingers to finish the sentence. “Oh! I didn’t even tell you the part where we’re fairly certain the Peter you encountered before finding that pamphlet is from the Lukas family. They have financial ties to the Magnus Institute, but we’re not sure right now if that means they’ll do anything with it. We’re-”

Martin looks up when Jon stops. “Ah, you were saying?”

Jon shakes his head. “Well, I started the joke. I might as well finish it: we’re keeping an eye on the situation.”

Martin makes a snort of a laugh through his nose before he continues reading the article. It states that, in spite of how brutal the attack appeared, the now blind Bouchard has chosen not to press charges against Wyndham. He actually thanked her. The fate of the Magnus Institute is still in question according to the newspaper, but it’s very likely Martin’s not going to be the only new recruit to the Ministry of Occultism soon, and there’s going to be a lot of new things to sort in Artefact Storage if it’s not kept in the Institute’s building. He might end up with a proper Librarian title before long.

“So that day when Claire and Siobhan were having that meeting in the office?” Martin asks.

“A séance to contact Bouchard,” Jon answers. “28th July is the best day to attempt such things, the day when the barrier between the Physical Realm and the Ethereal Realm is at its thinnest.”

Martin nods at this. “I think that explains everything, then.” He hands the paper back to Jon. “Thank you. I’m glad you told me.”

“Glad I got the chance to,” Jon replies, taking the paper.

But after that, Jon still doesn’t leave.

Martin smiles at him again. “Ah, was there something else?”

“Yes, actually,” Jon says, fidgeting with the paper for a little bit before folding it and tucking it under his arm. “I was thinking, it being your first day- ah, I know you said you’re nervous, so I understand if the answer’s no, but- I mean, if you’re hungry, would you-? That is, I’d like to take you out for a celebratory lunch date?”

Martin swallows, taking in everything about the moment. “So, when-” He licks his lips without thinking, and Jon seems to be watching him just as intently as he’s watching Jon. “-when you say a lunch date…?”

“I mean a date,” Jon quickly clarifies. “Unless- unless you’d rather- if you don’t like food?” He puts his hand to his forehead. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date if you just want the food, but if you’re not hungry right now but still want to get out for your lunch break- o-or if you don’t want the food and want to get out on your lunch break and consider it a- a d-date, then-”

Martin doesn’t even think, just reaches out to lower Jon’s hand from his forehead much in the same way he did when prompting him to put his wallet away.

Jon abruptly shuts up at the touch, pulled out of the circles he was talking himself in. “Martin?” he quietly asks, looking at the point of contact before meeting Martin’s eyes.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” Martin answers just as softly. “Heh, have for a while now. Not sure how that got past you.”

“I mean, I do try to give you your privacy,” Jon says, but his mouth gently blooms into a smile as he does. He turns his hand so he’s properly holding Martin’s instead of just touching it. “But I think, now that you’ve said it, I could feel it coming off of you.” He slowly knits their fingers together. “Feeling it isn’t the same as naming it, after all.”

“Some psychic you are,” Martin playfully chides, leaning a bit closer and squeezing Jon’s hand. “No wonder you’re just Assistant Psychic Investigator.”

“Hey, Claire says I have great potential,” Jon protests with a little shove. “When she’s not cooing about how I look like a junior version of Trilby.”

“You do dress like him,” Martin points out.

“It’s just a suit; I don’t even wear a hat.”

“And you’re both the sort to wear a suit working a shift at a cafe, aren’t you?” Martin asks, gesturing to his own outfit of a jumper over a shirt and jeans, still very much the sort of thing he might wear working at the cafe.

Jon tugs at their joined hands a little bit, ready to lead him out. “Hey, that was one shift. But that reminds me not to take you to the cafe for our lunch date. Not today, anyway. Maybe once we’re not sure to be the hot office gossip. That’s the one terrible thing about my supervisor being a Psychic Investigator.”

But Martin stands still even as Jon tries to pull him along.

Jon stops and looks back. “Hmm? You haven’t changed your mind or anything, have you?”

“No, it’s not that,” Martin assures him, tugging him back. “I was just wondering-”

“Yes,” Jon immediately answers, moving in a bit closer.

Martin’s mouth drops open a little. “Yes to what?” he asks.

“Yes, you can kiss me,” Jon clarifies, reaching up to brush his fingers along Martin’s cheek.

“Maybe you’re a better psychic than I tho-”

But the rest of Martin’s sentence gets lost against Jon’s mouth, a tender, tentative brush of their lips together repeated twice, thrice to make sure it actually happened, staying close afterwards, reluctant to part.

“Oh,” Jon sighs, the breath of it on Martin’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Martin agrees. And then, “Thought that would come at the end of the date.”

“Why wait for that if we want the kiss now?” Jon asks, actually drawing away this time and resuming pulling him along to go to lunch.

“Will I have to worry about you reading my mind?” Martin asks in return, following along this time.

Jon looks at him over his shoulder with a little roll of his eyes. “I mean, just because I know what name to put to it now doesn’t mean I’m just scrolling through your brain like I’m on my phone.” He presses his lips together in thought, and Martin has to give him the benefit of the doubt since he’d very much like to kiss him again. “I’ll keep that in mind, though. So I’m not just talking over your thoughts.”

“Hey, you said yourself that you do what you can to control it,” Martin says, giving his hand another squeeze. “But thank you.”

Jon squeezes his hand back, smiling up at him.

Martin smiles back and asks, “So, where are we going for lunch?”

And Jon resumes pulling Martin along, talking about this perfect little Italian place near their building, occasionally squeezing their joined hands as they go.

#tma #chzo mythos #aura's fanfiction #on this day in aura's tma/chzo mythos fanfiction

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blackicephantom · 3 years ago

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Xiao/Aether - A name in the wind

This is not how it was supposed to be. Not at all. The blonde gripped his sword desperately, trying to stay upright, while still keeping an eye on the three Ruin Guards that slowly surrounded him.

For the first time in his long, long life he should have listened. Just this once. He’s been warned to stay away from enemies of all sorts because something strange caused them to act more aggressive and violent. Verr Goldet told him. Ganyu and Zhongli told him…. Hell, even Childe told him to be careful! But most of all: Xiao told him to stay away from these grounds. Did he listen? Nope. Is he regretting it? Definitely.

Just in that moment another damned missile came his way , followed closely by the swinging arm of the second Guard. Dodging the first, means running into the second. Taking the missile would make him unable to dodge the arm. His geo element could stop the arm, if just temporarily, and if he is fast enough he could even evade the explosion. So he went for it. But sadly he forgot the third Ruin Guard, who was apparently just waiting for something like this to happen. The heavy footsteps made the earth tremble slightly and Aether knew he messed up big time, because the stps came from behind him…. It took him a split second to realize his mistake, but that was the one second it took his opponent to grab him and squeeze down around him. The blonde struggled against the cold hold and yet there was no give. Then he sensed that they were moving and he tried to see where the big machine was taking him. But the world slowly started to blur because of the missing oxygen in his lungs. Breathing was getting harder and harder with every passing moment and yet he still tried to get his arms free.

When he saw the edge of the nearby cliff come into view, dread filled him. A fall from this high…..and not even his glider will help him. At least not if he can’t get out. He could feel the bones of his arms start to grind against each other and swore he could hear a slight cracking. In a last ditch effort he focused, focused the earth into his hand and hoped to pry these fingers that are holding him apart. But as if sensing his poor attempts at escape the mentioned fingers squeezed down even harder, until a loud crack could be heard and blinding pain rushed through his right arm, which was also his sword arm.

Suppressing a scream Aether tried to think but nothing would come to mind.

`I’m going to die here.´ was his only thought. He thought of his sister and wanted to cry. Definitely not how he wanted to go. Then he felt a slight breeze as his enemy held him over the edge. The soft wind reminded him of something. Of someone.

If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name.

The hold over him loosened and he felt himself slip. Freefall would be the only thing that follows. And because of his broken arm he couldn’t open the glider.

Adeptus Xiao.

He fell the first meter before he could get his lungs and voice to cooperate. He had no time to take a deep breath but he hoped to all the archons that it would be enough.

I will be here when you call.

He prayed that it wasn’t just some dump joke. But Xiao wasn’t the joking type, no matter the situation. So he gathered his courage and screamed as loud as could into the now rushing wind. “Adeptus Xiao!”

After the last letter left his lips he was falling, continuously rushing towards the unforgiving ground below. But just as he was about to give up on all hope the wind picked up and his fall was cushioned. A warm body was right beside his, strong arms keeping him afloat in the air.

Blinking slowly he looked up into the hard and disapproving eyes of his savior. The Vigilant Yaksha actually followed his call. Xiao really came! Aether tried really hard not to cry but the relief was just way too overwhelming. Golden eyes softened just slightly as they ascended to where the Ruin Guards were still waiting, watching them with unnatural stillness and slowly powering up their missiles.

“Idiot. I’ve warned you to stay away. That’s what you get for ignoring an Adeptus warning.” The words were harsh but the hold on him careful, as to not hurt him further. Swift as the wind the teal haired male dodged the projectiles and placed Aether somewhere safe and further away, aware of the attack range of these cursed things.

With the other out of the way, Xiao donned his mask and his spear and got to work. Aether could just watch in absolute awe as the Yaksha rushed and plunged through his opponents, a controlled rage just underneath the pale skin, like a beautiful but wild animal. It took no more than a few moments for the Anemo user to finish and return to the blonde's side. Said male just looked away, embarrassed at his own performance and failure to either win or at least to get away. But Xiao just picked him up again and started to walk away while the wind was slowly gathering around them. Before he could ask though, the Adaptus spoke. “I’m taking you back to the Wangshu Inn. Your injuries need to be tended to and you are in no condition to travel on your own.”

So that’s that.

But something still bothered him. And he just had to ask. “How did you find me so fast?”

Because of the following silence and the small sigh right afterwards he thought he wouldn’t get an answer. At least until he did. “The wind carried your call in my direction and pushed me most of the way.”

Huh……

Slowly falling asleep even in the middle of being transported, Aether thought to himself.

`So all it took was a name in the wind….. Or rather, HIS name in the wind��

Smothering his giggles against the white fabric Aether just let go. He knew he would arrive safely and in one piece.

_Fin_

#genshin impact #xiao x aether #fanfic

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iwannaban0nym0us · 3 years ago

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So, I’m back! The trip was really fun and we did a lot of cool outdoors activities (including a snowball fight which was so fun) but y’all get to hear the queer and emotional parts of the story

So, to start off, my grayfriend was supposed to go on this trip with me but got covid a couple days before and therefore couldn’t come. My grayfriend collects snow globes and was planning on buying (at least) one on the trip. I’m really happy because i was able to find one (that’s a frog (which must be gay) none the less) that I bought for them and will give to them in person as a gift next time I see them

Switching gears now; I’m really happy that I was passing most of the trip. I think almost every single one of the strangers and guides and such read me as a guy which was really awesome since I’m transmasc. Oh and also my ticket had my chosen name on it even though my name hasn’t been legally changed yet!!!

Ok, next part of the story—bathrooms, every trans (and particularly nonbinary) person’s worst nightmare when traveling. Before I get into what happened on the trip for context I came out at the very beginning of the school year and am pretty openly trans. I’m transmasc and I present really masculine, despite the fact that I’m not a binary guy. This makes figuring out which bathroom to use really hard. At school it’s much easier since there’s gender neutral bathrooms (however out of the way they may be) while only like 3 places on the trip had that option.

I’m pretty sure that once we got on the bus for the first time every time I used the bathroom I ended up using either a gender neutral bathroom or the men’s room which is still kinda insane for me to believe. What I discovered during the trip is that girls I know even a little bit don’t question me if I go in the women’s room, while guys I know only a little bit give me weird looks in the men’s room but guys I know decently well are chill if I use the men’s room. Whereas when it comes to strangers I didn’t get a single weird look in the men’s room the whole trip while the like 2 times I used the women’s room at the airport I had 2 different people walk in see me and then turn around and look to see if they were in the right restroom. Which I guess means I’m passing but also really sucks because that gesture feels like them saying that I don’t belong there, and if I don’t belong there where do I belong?

Given all of that information you’d probably think it’s an easy decision and I should just use the men’s room, right? Wrong. I don’t have a stp nor do I really want one which means that I can’t use a urinal. The problem with the men’s room is that it’s a toss up if there will be enough stalls for there to be one open for me to use. While in the women’s room I know there’s only stalls and if all the stalls are busy it’s normal to wait in line for them.

I did end up choosing the men’s room most of the time, partly because I went to the bathroom with guy friends and at least at the beginning of the trip I was not confident enough to go into any bathroom alone, and partly because I don’t know if I could of have taken any more of those questioning looks from random women. Surprisingly I think I only ran into the problem of all of the stalls being full like twice and one of those times was at the airport on the first day where I just ended up using the women’s room so idk if that one really counts.

Also it drove me crazy that our bus driver would constantly say things like ‘ladies and gentlemen’, ‘boys and girls’, ‘men and women’ and so on since he basically implied that I don’t exist.

Alright, last point, I think. So my crush who’s a cis guy on the boy’s soccer team and the programing sub-team on the robotics team went on the same trip as me. Before the trip I knew him maybe a bit better than someone who I’m not friends with but like have classes with. The first day or so I was way too nervous to do much more than say hi to him even though he was sitting across the aisle from me on the bus. I told my grayfriend about this and vae tried to hype me up and give me a little bit of their confidence but it didn’t work that day.

Since none of my crushes friends were on the trip he ended up rooming with one of my friends and like through that I slowly started to talk to and hang out with him more. By the end of the trip I think I may be at the point where I could consider him a friend, or at least pretty close to one. Conversations with him don’t feel one sided at all anymore and he’s started initiating conversations with me instead of purely the other way around. Also like we were in the same group for most of the activities on the last like 2 days, including him sitting behind me when we went rafting and doing a trail run together (along with a few other friends).

Also because he spent a lot of time with my guy friends I also spent a bunch of time with (like purely) my guy friends which was super euphoric.

Overall I feel like the trip was a pretty big success for me as a transmasc mspec gay.

#me #personal #gay #trans #transmasc #mspec gay #crush #enby #nonbinary #bathrooms

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funkymbtifiction · 5 years ago

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Oh!! I just saw the ask where you mentioned you're re-watching BBC's Robin Hood. Does that mean you have plans to add enneagrams to your typings of them? How exciting that would be! If so, may I request your thoughts on Djaq's MBTI and/or enneagram? She and the other merry men are my favorite characters on that show, but I realize as side characters they aren't quite as well developed as Robin/Marian/Guy. Even so, I figure it couldn't hurt to ask/put in a good word for them. :)

Yes. I intend to update the existing types and add a few more.

I have a broad sense of the Merry Men’s MBTI types but am not quite sure of their Enneagram types yet -- of if they even face enough development to receive types. But I’ll talk through some possibilities here while you wait.

Djaq is an ISTJ. She is level-headed, sensible, and an expert on medicine thanks to studying her father and watching him work. She is far more inclined than the rest to notice details in their environment and attach meaning to them. She handles bad situations competently and quickly with Te pragmatism (such as when the sheriff kidnaps her and tries to convince her to create the black gunpowder due to her Islamic origins). I’m not sure about her Enneagram type, but it might be 9w8. She is far more likely to forgive and accept other people’s differences than the other characters -- she’s even willing to forgive Alan’s treachery and understand where he is coming from. 9s are non-judgmental and a social 8 wing would bring out her fierce determination to protect the innocent.

Will Scarlett appears to be an ISFP. He is driven by his emotions, which are often touched by the plight of the poor around him, and quick to act. He takes a lot of risks and even considers betraying Robin and looking after his own interests at one point -- only to turn around and do the right thing, because his Fi-dom morals cannot do otherwise. He bucks the desires and wishes of the rest of his band when he decides to poison the sheriff and only backs down from this when he believes Robin also will die. The loss of loved ones make him want to kick into instant action (Se). No idea about his Enneagram type tho.

Little John is an ESTJ. He’s a natural leader who makes rational decisions and who effectively held an outlaw band together before Robin joined them. But he also carries an enormous amount of guilt for having left his wife and son, betraying his family life to keep them safe (a rational decision) in the process. He shows a lot of traditionalism in his thinking and, from time to time, some lower Ne apprehension about the future and uncertainty about how things will play out; he can be fearful at times (such as distrusting the creepy mask and thinking it a sign of witchcraft). The series shows fear in him from time to time, but overall I think he’s an 8w9. He’s got anger issues, he can take an enormous amount of pain under torture without buckling, he has a gruff desire to protect others (social 8), and can be temperamental, but he’s also unwilling to engage in emotional conflict and tends to bow out of things that don’t concern him -- a numbing 9 wing.

Alan is an STP. He’s logical, somewhat amoral in his decisions, but able to adapt to any new situation that arises -- he has a low Ni desire to look after himself which makes him betray Robin, then he experiences inferior Fe guilt having done so and tries to worm his way back in among them; when that fails, he goes and joins Sir Guy’s men and proceeds to use what he knows of their tactics against the Merry Men. I think he’s more ISTP than ESTP, because his Fe doesn’t work as well as his Ni does. He’s good at reading between the lines and less impulsive than Robin -- his impulses are more reactions to external threats. I think he’s an sp/so 7. He wants to keep things, he wants to enjoy things, he wants to have a good time, but there’s also a desire to be part of the group and find safety among them. Probably a 6 wing, since he gravitates toward the protection of others and shies away from direct conflict.

Much is a hard man to type, but he may be ESFJ. Despite the fact that he is rather selfish, he seems apprehensive about the unknown, he out of all of them is the fussiest about his environment, he has an eternal monologue going on about his feelings about everything and the injustices he feels, and he is devotedly loyal to Robin, to an almost absurd degree. He is easily hurt, but also willing to serve the others by making the food and general care-giving. Tho he dreams of being an important person and having his own life, Much is also so used to serving Robin and calling him Master that he cannot break out of that mindset. I could see 2 or 6 for him. It might be phobic 6, as he’s fearful a lot of the time and rather co-dependent on Robin. He’s so loyal that even after Robin is totally cruel to him in the episode where his 8 gets out of hand, instead of kicking him to the wayside, Much goes to convince Marion to wait for him.

- ENFP Mod

#robin hood #mbti #question

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rational-mastermind · 5 years ago

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@angelic-writer, Happy Birthday! Thought I’d surprise you with a Quinnby ficlet for your special day. nwn Hope you have a good one! tw for sensitive readers: it gets kinda suicidal and depressing. 0x0;;

When you begin a line of work, you begin to understand very quickly what it is you have willingly signed on for. When you work retail, you understand there’s going to be one customer who demands to see the manager. When you work as a manager you know there’s always one customer who demands to see you.

When you work as an STP field operative you know there’s likely going to be something supernatural in the works and you’ll likely be scarred for life if you’re not emotionally stable nor compromised enough to just simply accept that yes, that is a cultist hanging from the ceiling and yes, we’re likely dealing with another pagan god of old, if not the common house demon.

I, Trilby, am of the former. The kind of agent who is emotionally stable enough to simply accept what I am given if there is no other logical explanation. My partner, Chris Quinn, is more of the latter, mentally compromised enough to where he does not look for logical explanations, but simply takes it at face value and deals with such, usually in an appropriate manner, that meaning appropriate for him. Not entirely appropriate for the supernatural, nor myself.

This is all to say, Chris and I were currently investigating another cult’s attempt at creating a bridge, however flimsy, between our World of Technology and the World of Magic. They managed one entity to escape into our world, before being swiftly shut down by us and the exact nature of said entity is unknown. Hence, our current circumstance as we continue to travel through the ramshackle hideout of an abandoned warehouse, hoping to at least gain some insight on what we’re up against.

“Hey Trilbs?” Chris broke the deafening silence with a whisper as we tread carefully through the warehouse.

“Yes?” I replied, sparing him a glance, careful to keep my voice as low as his.

“Can you possibly chill out?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been tense all night and frankly it’s starting to kinda get to me too. Loosen up. It’s just another demon.”

Chris is, of course, blind to the situation. While I would admit to my more cautious nature, the reasoning for such was complicated and I would say, well justified. The simple answer would be to say I was tense because the exact timing of this ritual and the similar nature of it all was too eerily familiar to previous experiences.

The more complicated answer would be to say it was currently a warm night in mid July and it reminded me too much of my personal dealings with an insane cultist attempting to please his self-proclaimed god. The encounter left me scarred in both a physical and mental way and the last thing I would wish for was a repeat of that.

Normally I would try to avoid working too many cases this time of year, but alas, we were unfortunately, yet again, short-staffed and turning away a job offer by the government wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do. So here we were, wandering through a warehouse with a supposedly malicious entity on the loose. It didn’t help that this abandoned warehouse just so happened to work with mannequins in particular and the faceless dolls and disassembled limbs only added to my ever-growing anxiety.

A part of me knew that it would only be a matter of time before I rounded the corner and would once again gaze upon the clean-slated pale white face of the horrendously stretched out monster that was The Pri-

“HAH!”

“AAAHH!”

To explain, after I told Trilby to loosen up, he had rolled his eyes and lapsed into another internal monologue. It’s a narcissistic thing I think. So I did the natural thing, started poking around, finding a prop to help lighten up the mood around here. If things were to remain as uptight as Trilby’s ass, it’d be hard to fight whatever hell-spawn escaped the ritual. And wouldn’t you know it? There were just so many expressionless styrofoam heads in these crates! It’s like they were just WAITING for a punchline!

Emphasis on punch as Trilby literally punched the head off my shoulders, after giving a terrified shriek in response to my surprise.

I thought it was funny, but I was actually surprised when Trilby went on to scream at me.

“THAT’S NOT FUNNY CHRIS! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“What? They look just like that Prince you told me about from last year! I thought it’d be hilarious!”

Trilby only scowled for a moment before I felt a sharp and jolting pain searing through my body and everything went black. Only previous experience would tell me when I woke up that he obviously tased me with his grolly.

When I did wake up, he was dragging my body back to the car. He was roughed up. Must’ve fought the demon. As soon as I was able to register that much he dropped the rest of me back on the ground.

“Good. You’re awake. You can get to the car yourself.”

I groaned and rubbed the back of my head.

“Did you use your taser on me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re an asshole.”

I pulled myself up and Trilby was already at the door to the warehouse. I sighed and followed after him.

“Did you defeat the-?”

“Yes. It was just an elemental.”

“Oh… Should I write the uh..?”

“No. Best you leave it in more capable hands. I’ll write it when we get back.”

“..Okay.”

We headed out to the car and while I moved to get to the driver’s side, Trilby cut in front of me and got in. I sighed, confused, and climbed into the passenger’s side instead.

“I wouldn’t have minded driving.”

“I merely assumed someone more sensible should be behind the wheel.” Trilby replied coldly.

I continued to puzzle over his behavior as we pulled away and got back on the main road. As far as I understood it, I played a prank, he got mad. But.. I didn’t understand why. It was innocent enough. Just a harmless jump-scare, isn’t it?

The mood was dower and I was stewing over things for too long. Fortunately I remembered the radio was left on a great channel when last we were in the car. I turned it on.

“Here we are now, entertain us! I feel stupid and contagious!”

I started to lighten up almost immediately but just as soon as the music started, Trilby turned it off. I frowned and started to turn it on again but he swiftly smacked my hand away.

“Don’t.” was the only warning he gave, through gritted teeth. “I’m not in the mood.”

I sighed and simply shrugged. I guess he really was just in a bad mood. I hoped it would clear up by tomorrow.

Obviously it didn’t.

I came into the STP, same as normal. When I got to Trilby’s office I found Claire, talking with him. Trilby was smiling well enough but as soon as our eyes locked, he scowled.

Claire glanced back and her grin also disappeared. A worried frown instead.

“Oh.. Um.. Anyway I should get going.” Claire quickly grabbed a few papers off his desk and headed out the door. “Morning Chris.”

“Morning. See ya later, Claire.”

“See ya.” she rounded the doorway and hurried back into her own office, across from his.

I looked back at Trilby who was busying himself with the computer.

“Hey. So uh.. How’s it-”

“Chris I’m horribly busy. If you’re not here to discuss work then get out.”

“I just wanted to ask how you’re do-”

“Get. Out.” He bit out, scowling up at me. “I’m still upset about yesterday. I’ll come fetch you when we have a new assignment.”

“So what, Claire gets to talk to you but I-?”

Trilby smacked his desk as he stood up and rounded its corner.

“Don’t you have your own work to do? Or anyone else to bother?” Without wasting any time he shoved me out into the hallway.

And just like that, I was standing out, staring at Claire’s office. She peeked around the doorway back at me, worried.

“...What got into him?” I asked her.

She sighed and came fully into view. She leaned on the doorway and gave me a skeptical look.

“Well, from what I gathered, you played a pretty harsh prank on Trilby the other day.”

“I wouldn’t say it was harsh.”

“No? What happened?”

“I grabbed a fake head and held it over mine to give him a scare. You know, to lighten the mood.”

“Chris..” Claire sighed and pushed her glasses up. “Nevermind. Maybe it’d be better if I just let you and Trilby settle it.”

“No, what?”

“Chris, I don’t wanna play translator for you two. You guys figure it out. I’ve…” she paused long enough to glance back at Trilby behind me. She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve got my own work to do.”

Claire went back into her office. For the rest of the day, Trilby avoided me. When we did have to go on a mission, a ghost-hunting one, he made an obvious effort to work separately from me. And I wished it was only for the day, but he continued to act like this the next day. And the next day.

And then one day I bumped into Jim from the morgue division in the elevator.

“Oh! Hey Chris! I didn’t expect to see you still hanging around.” Jim smiled back at me.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you already left. With Mr. Trilby.” he shrugged.

I frowned.

“What?”

Jim’s smile faltered.

“Didn’t he…? He.. Got a mission just earlier. I thought for sure he’d take you.”

“The fuck? No. He didn’t get me. What mission?”

“Oh. Uh…” Jim quickly became uneasy. He fidgeted with his clipboard. “Umm.. Nothing! Nothing too bad! Just a small mission!”

I normally try to get along with most anyone here in the STP, save for David Smith, and I know it’s not easy to pull off, being over 6 feet tall and usually smeared in someone’s blood with heavy bags under my eyes. People say I look deranged and unstable and while normally that’s a compliment in my eyes, I try not to let it be the only thing I’m known for among my co-workers.

But in this case I wasn’t above stepping a little too close for Jim’s comfort and drawing myself up to my full height. My hand slipped onto the hilt of my trusty machete, not that I intended to use it.

“Jim.” he was visibly cowering underneath me. “Tell me the truth.”

“H-He uh.. W-w-well he um.. Mr. Trilby went to track down a rift.”

My stern expression suddenly dropped and I felt my blood drain. Rift? A RIFT?!

“HE’S GONNA GET HIMSELF KILLED!”

“That’s why I thought he took you along!” Jim cowered.

“What the hell is he thinking?! Where’d he go??”

The doors to the elevator opened up and Jim slowly inched his way to it but I was too blinded by concern to really notice.

“I.. I would say but.. I-I..”

“Jim…?”

“I don’t think Mr. Trilby would want me telling you.” He finally confessed before ducking out of the elevator. “I’m sorry!”

I normally would’ve screamed. Or chased him. Demanded an answer. But I was just stuck on the simple fact that…Trilby didn’t want me to come with him. Trilby didn’t want me with him.

I felt a pain I couldn’t laugh at as my heart sank down low into my gut. I was worried and angry and confused but the most bizarre thing was that I was just simply hurt. I haven’t been genuinely hurt in years and I honestly didn’t understand why… Why was he doing this?

I couldn’t stop thinking about it until Trilby finally came back into the office two days later. As soon as I heard he was back I immediately tracked him down only to find him slumped over a table in the breakroom, a cup of coffee in hand and barely awake.

“TRILBY!” I couldn’t help but shriek, making him jump up in his seat with a yelp of his own. “HOLY CRAP where have you been?! Are you okay?! Oh crap oh fuck you’re bleeding!”

Trilby was clutching his heart and shaking, recovering from the shock, and when I got to him he immediately shoved me away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” he growled half-heartedly and fixed me with a scowl. “I can take care of myself.”

I rolled my eyes. He was still going on about this.

“Trilby, where the hell have you been??”

“None of your concern, Chris.” Trilby sipped his coffee.

“Well what the hell were you thinking, trying to close a rift alone!? You know how dangerous that shit is! You need a partner!”

“No, I actually don’t.” Trilby argued. “I don’t need a partner, I never did need one. I’m not required to have one. Despite however dangerous any mission would be, we’re not required to team up unless specifically instructed because frankly with as understaffed as this infernal organization really is, they could use as many operatives on the field as they can doing separate jobs to cover more ground without any concern for their well-being seeing as it’s more than easy enough for them to drag in another convict or psychopath to replace the previous agent. To further illustrate the matter, Christopher Quinn, LOOK AT WHO WE REPLACED AND HOW EASY IT WAS TO DO SO. Bottom line is I. DO NOT. NEED. YOU.”

With that he stood up and left with his coffee in a huff. I chased after him.

“Trilby, look if this is about that stupid prank I pulled on you back in the factory, I’m sorry! Alright?? Is it really worth getting yourself hurt like this? Are you that fucking pissed at me? Trilby! Come on! At least let me apologize!”

I grabbed his hand to turn him around but he snatched it back and scowled at me.

“I don’t want your apology, Chris.” he replied. “I don’t wanna hear it. Yes I’m still angry. No, you can’t just get off the hook with an apology. I don’t want you to try to make it up to me. I don’t want you to-”

I leaned in and kissed him but that was immediately reciprocated with a punch to the face.

“I ESPECIALLY DON’T WANT YOU TO DO THAT.” Trilby all but shouted at me. “I HATE IT when you try to pull that shit off, thinking it’ll just magically make me forget to hate you! Especially at work! Why don’t you just take a hint and FUCK OFF?!”

Trilby walked away again, leaving me behind. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I had never seen him get so angry. I was surprised to find tears pricking my eyes, but I guess that’s a normal response.

Trilby kept it up for a couple of weeks after that. Avoiding me. Refusing to speak to me. Keeping his distance. Going on missions alone and coming back looking like dog shit. All I could do was stand there and keep hurting. Wishing I could make it up to him. Wishing I knew what exactly I did wrong. Wishing I could fix it, somehow.

Then one day, while I was having lunch with Claire and Jim, Trilby came into the room, looking around. His eyes locked on our table and he came over.

“Good, you’re here. I’ve thought about it and decided I needed another pair of hands for this mission.”

I stood up so fast I almost lost my lunch.

“You mean you’re not-??”

“Mind coming along, Jim?” Trilby utterly ignored me and looked down at the kid.

Jim was immediately put on the spot and looked up with big, confused eyes.

“HIM?!” Claire and I both asked as Jim also responded at the same time.

“ME?!”

“Yes, Jim, I need you. There’s talk of a tv celebrity who was murdered in her apartment under mysterious circumstances and I need your help.” Trilby replied smoothly.

“O-Oh… Um.. Y-Yes Sir.”

Trilby smiled. “Thank you. It’d be nice working with someone competent.”

I would’ve loved how well he cut into me with words alone, if it was under any other circumstance. Claire and Jim seemed to think the same, as they frowned at him.

“Trilby… Come on, isn’t that a bit harsh?” Claire asked.

“How is that harsh? I simply paid Jim a compliment by saying he was going to be good to work with.” Trilby glanced back at her.

“Well… Yeah… But…” Claire looked up at me but all I could focus on was the split-second glance Trilby gave me. The kind of pointed glance that easily conveyed that he wasn’t as innocent as he sounded.

He turned to leave, with Jim following close behind him. All I could do was watch in frustration.

“....He really knows how to hold a grudge, huh?” Claire asked as I slowly sat back down.

“Yeah… Who would’ve guessed?” I huffed and jabbed my cold leftovers.

I stewed over the comment for the rest of the day, only getting angrier and angrier about it. The way he said it, the stupid look he gave me, that kind of smug air of a kid who thinks he’s so fucking smart by “not touching” you.

I finally went on a search for him near the end of the work day. It wasn’t hard. Trilby was pretty much a creature of habit and I knew if he wasn’t in any closet or dark corner befitting an ex-thief, he would only, naturally, be on the roof.

Trilby seemed surprised though, as I kicked open the locked door and made my way out onto the roof.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, won’t you leave me ALONE?” Trilby sighed.

“No, dammit!” I stormed over to him. “Cause this shit has gone on long enough!”

“Chris, I don’t want to hear your apology.”

“WHY NOT?!”

“Cause I can’t take you seriously!” Trilby snapped at me. “How am I supposed to? You’re nonstop with being utterly ridiculous!”

“I’M ridiculous!? I think you’ve been! It was just a joke!”

“Oh yes, I forgot to laugh! HA! HA HA HA HA! Yes let’s all laugh at my pain!” Trilby stepped up onto the railing and scooped up his grolly. “Everybody come witness the fool who went and got himself tormented on his first case! Let’s all laugh at the idiot who experienced death first-hand, MULTIPLE TIMES! I’m SO sorry Chris! I FORGOT HOW HILARIOUS PAIN IS.”

He knelt down and leaned in close to scowl down at me. I couldn’t help but shrink back, feeling the same twisted pain in my gut from before in the breakroom.

“Trilby I didn’t mean it like-”

“Oh yes you did, Christopher.” he seethed. “You only think it would be funny to point and laugh at pain, but you never consider who’s pain, do you? I know you have mental issues, but you see the real problem was that I do too. I just don’t go announcing it to the world like you do.”

“Well I’m so-”

“Let’s see how well your apologies matter when I finally give in and just let go, Chris.” Trilby stood back up and it was now that it really hit me how dangerously close to the edge he was.

Fear had an icy grip on every nerve in my body as Trilby took one giant, swinging step.

“DON’T!!” I shrieked.

He turned around almost effortlessly in one full swing and sat his foot on the railing again. I looked up only to find him grinning back down at me.

“Hm, things are a little different on this side of the railing, aren’t they?” He turned and began walking very quickly along the edge, making me follow helplessly behind him.

“Trilby, okay I get it! This isn’t funny!” I continued shouting.

“No? Oh, I thought this was hilarious to you! Especially if I were to-” he suddenly stopped, faster than I could register and started walking backwards, as if it was only natural.

“TRILBY!” I skidded, trying to stop, slipped, skinned my hands on the floor as I twisted around and tried to catch up to him.

“See, isn’t it so funny? Let’s all laugh at the man who suffers from PTSD!” Trilby continued.

When I got close I reached out to pull him back down.

My heart froze in mortal terror as he suddenly jumped.

It didn’t start again until he landed, feet away from me. He turned back around and sneered.

“Let’s see how well you laugh, when the man who suffers from horrific flashbacks, visions, and suicidal thoughts plaguing his mind both day and night, finally gives in…”, he shrugged. “...finally sick of all the nonsense and teasing. Too tired to keep on fighting and caring anymore like he struggles to, every single day. Let’s see how well you laugh when I finally… take the plunge.”

“MALCOLM!!”

There really wasn’t an excuse for allowing it to escalate to such heights, just as there shouldn’t have been any excuse for me to lose balance.

But I think, if nothing else, it got the message across.

Of course I hadn’t fallen too far before I made use of the grolly. I caught myself and looked back up as Chris was leaning over the edge, a look of pure fear on his face. He was actually tearing up.

When I finally pulled myself back over the railing Chris scooped me up and clung tighter than ever before, crying into my shoulder and apologizing over and over.

I took a breath, my anger finally quelled though my heart still raced, and held him, apologizing back for the way I treated him.

When we calmed down, we ended up sitting, with our backs to the railing, his arm wrapped securely around me, and mine around him.

“To be fair, I do spend the better half of my efforts into hiding my own problems.” I said, breaking the silence. “And that’s not entirely fair to you.”

“Well.. I could stand to pull my head out of my ass more often.” Chris shrugged. “...But it would be nice for you to tell me.. I had no idea you were…”

“Well…” I shrugged. “No one does. I doubt even Claire really knows how hard some days are… Surprisingly enough your antics do sometimes help.”

“They do??”

“Well… It… Keeps me distracted I guess.” I scratched the back of my head, for once unsure of how to properly phrase my thoughts. “… It’s easier to get out of bed some days when I think about you. When I worry about… how bad it would be to leave you. Especially after we’ve… Well..”

Chris grinned and I couldn’t resist leaning in and kissing him for it. Until half a minute later when the consequences of my word-choice came to mind.

“That’s not an excuse to just be an asshole though.” I warned him, pulling away quickly.

“Aw but Trilby-!”

“NO.”

“But Trilby…!”

“For the love of- DON’T.”

“I thought you liked my-”

I shoved him away and shook my head as he rolled with laughter. Stupidly enough I couldn’t stop grinning myself. Before I could say anything else, he suddenly pulled me close and kissed me passionately.

And it’s in moments like this, that I couldn’t have possibly expected for when taking on this job. And it’s moments like this that I find a reason to push on with every day.

#chzo mythos #quinnby #trilby somerset #chris quinn #my writing

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liebredeaconito · 5 years ago

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Fairytale – Scribles

Widojest Weekend Day#4

At first, she thought of herself as a princess. Her mom loved her and she knew, but she still felt like a princess trapped in her tower, she dreamed of a prince coming to save her from the caging, and her imagination was encouraged as she played with The Traveler (they were the fairy godmother).

Eventually and as she grew old, she left plays of fairy tales behind. But that did not stop her from imagining them,now she was not a princess waiting to be rescued but rather (maybe or hopefully) a kind of knight. A knight in not so much of a shining armor but rather a bright pink one, with the help of the godmother.

She later understood she was neither of those. Or maybe she was both.

She found herself not drawing rather writing. She started daydreaming more often as she pictured Caleb and herself in impossible situations. She scribbled what she thought about, doodled on the sides. Sometimes she was trapped in a tower and he came fighting ice breathing dragons. Sometimes she was a knight of a prince compromised to a princess he did not like. Sometimes a kiss woke him up.

The blue tiefling was scribbling up at night near the tiny bonfire in the inn when Caleb came from upstairs. She didn’t hear him, so when she tried to hide her notebook, it was to late, the wizard had seen it.

–What you got there blueberry? – he inquired peeking over her shoulder. She held her notebook close to her chest as she felt his breath tickling next to her ear.

–Nothing! Nothing at all– she blushed –Good all drawing that’s all!–.

He looks at her like he doesn’t believes her, but doesn’t push. –What are you doing here anyways?– she asked. –Nott’s snoring particularly hard tonight, thought I could read something down here. You?–.

–Just couldn’t sleep– she said. It was true, she needed to get her dreams out of her head to sleep.

–Well then, we might as well keep each other company.– She nodded and opened her notebook in a blanc page and started doodling her usual cute hybrids. As the small fire dies, Jester closes her eyes.

She wakes up abruptly as there are heavy stps into the inn. She looks around.Caleb is gone and so is her notebook. Oh no no no, this is bad she thinks to herself. And who has arrived?

Jester turns around the light of early morning coming through the open door and windows and walking in Caleb is holding her notebook oh no and flowers?.

–Ah you are awake– the redheaded starts to stutter – I’m sorry –he said, looking at the notebook– I ran out of thing to read...I shouldn’t have… I bought these to say sorry...well not only to say sorry– he started blushing so bad his ears got pink.

Jester her her hands up to her face –You read all of it? I’m sorry– she really didn’t know what to say nor she had an excuse.

–I… don’t be– He was getting closer to where she was– It was quite… entertaining–

–Entertaining?– she was no confused.

–No, no. I just didn’t think you’d see me that way. Me of all the people – he sighed – I would not expect anyone to like me least of all see me in a romantic light– She took her hands it of her face.

–You don’t give yourself enough credit, Caleb– she was less fearing now. He did not seems bothered, quite the contrary. Caleb was in disbelief. She liked him? Like-like him?

–Here– he handed her the flowers.–Breakfast?–

–Would love to– she smiled. Maybe fairy tales had a bit of true, even if you wrote them yourself.

#widojest #widojestweek #widojest week #caleb widogast #jester #jester lavorre #I PLANNED ON POSTING THIS EARLER I AM SORRY #critical role

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omo-kink-blog · 5 years ago

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Being a trans guy with a piss kink

So, this is kind of a result of this week for several reasons and about as personal as I will ever get, more than I ever expected to be on a social media platform.

It took fucking years to be okay with the piss kink that started off as only desperation and wetting, not watersports. I didn’t tell anyone because what’s the first kink people kinkshame? “It’s not like you’re into piss or anything, so it can’t be that weird.” At least three occasions in college I felt that terrible “but I am, but thanks for reminding me this isn’t a safe place for that,” in my friend group. Which was fine, I didn’t rely on their support for that. I knew and quite frankly wanted to be alone in that. I didn’t fantasize about friends or real people, it was mostly fictional characters, which led me to believe I was ace for quite some time.

So, from a young age, I’d had a fascination with standing to pee. I wanted to be able to do that from a very young age. I tried on a handful of occasions a few years before puberty. I was frustrated when I couldn’t do that, no matter what I tried. I kind of gave up after puberty. When I discovered I might be trans, it made sense but I wasn’t in a position to really do anything about it. When I realized I absolutely was trans, I tried some home made things that definitely didn’t work. When I was 21, I think, I invested in an STP device, a cheap ass one that was supposed to be somewhat easy to use. I’d already been binding and male presenting for at least a year, this was what I thought was my final obstacle to being comfortable being a man, if that makes any sense.

Some time before, I realized I was conditioned in a very negative way to not being able to use the men’s room. Thank fuck I was a trans guy and not a trans woman after reading the horror stories of trans women in women’s public restrooms or I don’t think I would be able to get over it.

I remember the whole “go with me” movement that was a thing. It works for women and I, at the time, would have gone with a trans woman into the women’s restroom (I did not pass as a man in any way, I definitely didn’t feel as though I belonged in men’s spaces, though using the women’s restroom gave me hella dyphoria). However, good fucking luck asking men to go to the bathroom with you because you don’t feel safe or comfortable. I’ve felt comfortable asking maybe 2 or 4 men to do that and I have never felt the need bad enough to ask them to accompany me. It was bad enough asking several coworkers if they’d be potentially comfortable enough to “allow me to use the men’s restroom,” followed by a conversation with my conservative male bosses about that topic. Yeah, fuck that. I’ll get to that, I guess.

I wasn’t one to willingly get desperate in public. It was more of a fantasy, so I didn’t appreciate not having access to a restroom, especially when I needed just a fucking moment of peace or simply just to fucking pee, wash my hands, or even blow my fuckin’ nose (mostly an issue at work at my current job).

In college, I had a group of friends who were cis men who were super supportive. One was from high school who wasn’t supportive to begin with but I came to be very close with him in college because he matured. Another was a straight male who was the definition of “ally.” He was the first person to use he/him pronouns in regard to me and the fucking lightbulb went off. I was not genderfluid, I could not be genderfluid. I was a man. There were other things in that span of time that clued me in but that was a big thing. I felt comfortable. I felt RIGHT when he used those pronouns with me. I asked my friend group to continue to do so. Given that there were many other trans people (binary and otherwise) changing their names and pronouns, it wasn’t a big deal at all. People messed up, /I/ messed up. It took quite some time and effort for myself to adjust to using the right pronouns and name. Even today, it takes effort to not immediately turn around to someone saying “ma’am�� or “miss.” I haven’t heard my deadname outside of my house in years, so that’s not a big thing.

That same person who used the right pronouns for the first time has also traumatized me a great deal. I don’t think he meant to and I don’t think he knows. It still hurts and affects me more than I would like.

In college, this group of cis men decided to tell me it was okay that I used the men’s locker room to change to go swimming with them. Considering my university didn’t have a gender neutral locker room within probably 0.4 miles, a few buildings over, I didn’t really want to walk half a mile out of my way just to fucking change. Before this, I hyped myself up to use the men’s room, a single stall restroom, in the library, first at 3 in the morning when we decided to pull an all nighter. It was a big step. It may not have seemed like it to anyone else, but I was so conditioned that I felt odd using the men’s room in the library even if it was a single-stall. Often I used that restroom just to avoid the dysphoria of using the women’s room if I didn’t want to use the one gender neutral restroom on campus in the one buildings’ basement.

I trusted them at their word. Surely they knew and would be honest enough with me. If they didn’t feel comfortable enough to do so, they would have said so, right? So I took them at face value. I think it was only one of them with the issue but unfortunately his response masked those around him and now I kind of lump them all into one, as unfortunate as that is. I was alone on one side while the others were together on another side. At some point, I felt the need to ask a question, I guess, and went to the other side. Their response was pure discomfort at having me in the vicinity. My immediate response was understandment, which I fucking hate. It shouldn’t have been discomfort. I shouldn’t have understood and conceded in a way that made it seem like I didn’t belong there. My fucking FRIENDS should not have acted like I was a stranger who didn’t belong. They shouldn’t have told me they were okay with it when they clearly weren’t. I say they. I mean one person. I don’t specifically recall any other reactions because this one reaction was strong enough.

I didn’t dare enter another men’s room or men’s locker room for fucking ages, for a couple years, at least, until after I was on hormones.

So, fast forward to after college. I’m in a job where we take inventory of different places. This means we enter new buildings every day. Often they don’t have gender neutral restrooms. I started this job without being out as trans. My aunt had a major factor in me being brought on. She didn’t know so I had to tell her and then out myself to everyone else, all 60+ people that I work with on varying occasions. It was stressful. Before I even knew all of their names, I was awkwardly trying to out myself as trans.

I left a job where people had finally accepted I was trans. I had a boss who asked whatever came to mind without thinking they were offensive, which was fine with me. I’m used to being the first trans person people encounter, I’m used to the weird (maybe offensive), invasive questions. I answer because they’re mostly asked out of curiosity rather than malicious ignorance. I answer in a way that I hope shows that I’m okay with those types of questions but the next trans person they encounter may not be. I try to educate. My previous boss asked me if I would prefer them to put a lock on the door to the men’s room so I would feel comfortable using the men’s room. I never answered them, but their support was enough, honestly. I had another boss who apologized profusely for misgendering me, but she tried to get the right pronouns. She was one of those who apologized too much. I loved her and her effort, but I did not need the speech each time “It just takes time, it’s hard for me.” I completely get it, I still misgendered myself at the time, I certainly wasn’t going to judge others for doing the same goddamn thing. I didn’t appreciate the few people who didn’t even fucking try, but it’s whatever now.

I missed them when I started this job. I worked (work?) with a lot of men. I work with some women, but it’s a lot of cishet men who are older and white (comes with the area, I guess). They scared me. I did not want to come out to them. I wore buttons, I made jokes, I did pretty much anything to avoid straight-up saying “I’m a trans man, please use my pronouns.” Some caught on, some did not. Some that I thought would have issues caught on quite quickly (so quickly that they were gendering me correctly within a month of me starting hormones, so I definitely didn’t pass). I couldn’t hold it against people for misgendering me considering they met me as my aunt’s “niece.” My aunt’s response was “neice, nephew, doesn’t make any difference to me.” It was the best response I’d gotten from a family member, by far.

I started hormones a few months into this job. I wasn’t supposed to. I wasn’t supposed to start hormones while living at home, for fear of my grandmother finding out. My parent and I had an understanding. I broke that understanding. I was 22 and I did not want to wait anymore. I told them after I got my first shot. They were hurt initially but there wasn’t anything they could do. I was an adult and I had made my decision. Initially, they told me I needed to shave consistently and keep my voice high, but it hasn’t caused an issue so far. My grandmother has only noticed my hairy legs (which can easily be explained away with not shaving, I guess).

There was one team leader I enjoyed working with and I respected at this new job. He apologized for not catching on right away but I was only wearing buttons to out myself. I had/have a hard time telling people who met me as a woman. He still caught on quite quickly. He barely messed up with pronouns after he caught on. He never gave me the whole “it takes time,” thing. Men seemed to have more of an issue with me being a trans guy, so I kind of let my guard down with him being so accepting. I wasn’t used to men being so accepting of trans people. I developed feelings, but at this point I realized I had already realized I was poly and realized I cared more for his happiness than actually wanting to be with him, if that makes sense. I didn’t want to be with him, I wanted him to be happy with his relationship with his girlfriend and their kid. I appreciated his support at work and maybe relied on that a little too much at times (I broke down crying in front of him, something I regret, and talk to him about trans issues maybe a bit too much, because he’s one of the few that might be able to sympathize).

So, at some point we had a travel store that ended up being just me and him. He mentioned at some point, when we were almost there, that he needed to pee, you know, every person into omo’s fantasy. I took the opportunity to mention that he was lucky that he could just use the restroom without issue. We had a pretty nice discussion in which I expressed my desire to use the men’s room without repercussions. I talked to him about how he might personally feel, how those we work with might feel, and we were pretty much on the same page with it. He seemed more aware about trans issues than many other cis men I’d talked to. It was nice to have someone so aware but still so supportive at work. I found myself to be rather appreciative of this and the fact that I really appreciated his work ethic. Surprise, surprise, I ended up catching feelings, something I’ve been dealing with for the past year now. His kid and his girlfriend are fucking adorable and if anything happens to them, I’d hate life even more than I do now.

The more I learn about him, the more I hate it and myself. But that’s a different story. The reason I include him is this week.

I was working in one of his stores, as one does. Break time came around and I wanted to make sure no one else was in the restroom, so I waited a couple minutes. I’d been working with another older cis guy who kept referring to me as she/her, so I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t catch his attention using the men’s room. He’s a nice guy, but I don’t think he’s caught onto the fact I’m a guy. Additionally, I don’t want certain workers to see me use the men’s room. So, I waited a few minutes. Considering I really had to fucking pee, it was a process. I had drank water all night and had tea in the morning.. I have a pretty sizeable bladder, to the extent that it’s not a big deal to wait 8 or 12 hours. I was already self conscious about using a stall vs the urinal because fucking toxic masculinity, despite reading up on male etiquette. Right before I went in, the supervisor (who I know too fucking much about in this respect) and that one man were talking so I thought I could just slip away. 40 seconds later I hear shuffling. Now, I have issues exiting a stall after hearing someone come in. I don’t want people to see me in the men’s room. I’m fucking paranoid and think it’s the guy that has been calling me she/her all week. I exit anyway. Turns out it’s the supervisor. I instantly enter panic mode. I immediately think it’s because I have feelings and a piss kink and watched him drive desperate less than a week ago as well as being jealous over actually being able to piss on the side of a building because of desperation over waiting for the manager to open the building. I made jokes, of course, because that’s how I deal with feelings and dysphoria, because how could a cis guy even begin to comprehend? Thinking about it after that day, I realized that I was more worried about him freaking out on me using the men’s room because “I don’t belong!” because that’s what happened before. I know logically he won’t, but it was the panic attack and the illogical fear that he would turn on me that caused my heart rate to rise and my flight/flight response. It was due to that one time before that caused me to think my friends (or at least supportive coworkers) could just as easily turn on me. I currently trust strangers more than I do people who know me when it comes to this stuff, because thanks to the hormones, I pass better. I get misgendered a lot less. I feel almost like I belong in men’s spaces. Even still, I hesitate every time before I enter a men’s restroom. So many “what if”s pass through my head and ultimately that one exchange passes through my head. “Do I pass enough to keep the next cis guy like him from causing issues?” “If my ‘friends’ have issues with it, surely strangers will?”

It wasn’t arousal at all, as I’d thought, it was PTSD from that incident with my college friends. I was so paranoid that he’d ‘turn’ on me, despite all the evidence that showed otherwise, that I couldn’t think. All I could think is that he was the one that followed me in, if he had issues with it then he should have waited, then he can’t say that I didn’t belong....... A long line of defenses that I shouldn’t need to think of. I shouldn’t have to hesitate before entering a men’s restroom. I shouldn’t think of all the bad things that could happen if I enter a men’s room if I don’t pass well enough. I certainly shouldn’t have to think of all the bad things that can and will happen to trans women who don’t ‘pass enough’ for cis women or cis men to use women’s spaces and who get physically harmed because of it.

Probably a few days later, I decided to pull that STP I bought out again. I had a terrible time with it before. I wasn’t able to use it in the shower without leaking a fuck ton, to the extent that I wouldn’t be able to use it in public. I gave up years ago when I tried. I tried again in the shower and had issues. I tried again just outside the shower and leaked a significant amount, but not as much as I would have thought. I tried again and leaked only a few drops. It was significant progress, more than I ever thought I’d get. It became a possibility, to the point that I wanted to use men’s restrooms to practice instead of using the bathroom at home because unless I had water running, it would be easy to hear the difference and I didn’t want my parent catching on.

So, I waited the other day, more than I should have. I left my job without using the restroom because I didn’t have to go, but my parent picked me up and took me to the hospital where my grandmother was getting surgery that lasted longer than it should have. I had half an hour before I had to leave so I figured I’d wait to use a men’s room on the way so I could practice. Of course, I brought extra underwear just in case, but the coffee shop I stopped at was cleaning the men’s room. Then I went to the wrong meet point, so I ended up having to leave the extra pair of underwear in my car 70 miles away and hoping for the best when I got to the travel store. I took my chances using the STP I have, but I only leaked a few drops, a manageable amount, especially for having a full bladder and a detachable dick. It’d be so much better to practice at home, but God forbid I get any fucking privacy anytime.

I’m doing better than I thought I ever would, but I still haven’t even tried to use a urinal. It’s difficult using a cheap-ass STP that I can’t really pack with, so I have to pull it out of my pocket, position it, and then use, then pack away again. It’s an 8 inch thing that isn’t exactly easy to unpack and pack away. I plan to invest in a better one eventually, but my job hasn’t been scheduling me for a lot of hours, so I don’t want to spend the money just yet. I want to practice in private, usually a stall, before I even attempt to try to use a urinal. It’s a process I’m not comfortable with yet. I’m trying and I’ve made so much more progress than I ever thought I would, but I’m not /there/ yet.

Side note: Another older gentleman came face to face to me coming out of the men’s room at a store, someone I work with. Since then, he seemed to catch on to the whole I’m a guy thing. I aspire to make the cis men at my work that may have issues with trans people to see me (and therefore all trans men) as “real” men. I understand that not all men use urinals or stand to pee, but it’s something I’ve wanted to do since before I realized I was a trans man. It would also make me more comfortable using men’s restrooms.

#Long story-short: I'm still traumatized over an incident that happened years ago with cis men #It hurts more when friends hurt you vs strangers #You expect it from strangers #I'm terrified of this coworker that I have feelings for hurting me #Hella personal #Kind of omo related?

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

Text

cute boi {biadore} - imafuckinglibra

Meow meow bitches did someone ask for a biadore fic ft trans Danny? No they did not but you know what I’m a little trans boy with a crush on another little trans boy so yeah. Deal with it. Inspired by true events that’s all I’m gonna say on that enjoy tw dysphoria duh bc I’m a dysphoric piece of shit k bye

“Hm…uh-uh.” Danny protested when a loud ringing and something vibrating on his sternum woke him up.

He slapped his chest till he found his phone to turn off his alarm, rolling over with it in his fist to try and get 5 more minutes of sleep before his second alarm went off.

Once it did he noticed a notification on his screen of someone who tagged him in something and immediately sprung up.

[@ i_adore_u : @ nottodaysatan tagged you in a post ]

He rubbed his overly tired eyes a few times to get them to focus on the pencil drawing of the faceless selfie he posted the night before of himself in bed.

The beautiful thick graphite outlines framing every curve of muscle on his slender back and ass poking out under the covers of his blankets contrasting the delicate fine shading.

@ i_adore_u: You fucker! You drew me!

He quickly typed out a message in his dms towards the artist who drew him. He didn’t know much about this nottodaysatan guy except that his artwork was almost as intimidating as trying to talk to him was.

He’d been following him for some time and pretty much stalked his page non stop when he needed some inspiration for his own work.

His lines were always pristine, his way of curving every muscle of whoever he drew next so unlike any other and the way he could add so much intricate detailing to fabrics was just honestly mind boggling.

And as an added bonus he seemed like an albeit scary, genuinely nice guy. They had talked a few times, complimented each other’s work, talked about artists they admired or exchanged drawing tips but that was pretty much all he knew about the stranger.

@ nottodaysatan: Good morning to you too.

@ nottodaysatan: And yes I did, I thought it was cute so I had to

Typing…

Danny smiled at the flashing dots and reluctantly pushed himself up to roll out of bed. Scruffing his long hair up between his pale fingers as he walked towards the bathroom grabbing the black briefs with his stp neatly tucked into it laying next to his bed in the process.

“Morning.” His roommate, Tyler, sang from the kitchen of the small apartment when he passed him.

“Hm.” He nodded stepping into his underwear after he closed the door behind him.

“I made coffee!” Tyler yelled.

“Coffee…” He yawned while he peed. Looking down with a scowl at the silicone prosthetic poking out from his Rodeoh’s as he did. “I hate you.”

After insulting his crotch he stood in front of the mirror with his hands on either side of the sink examining his appearance.

His unruly dark, chin length brunette hair framing his soft cheeks and exhausted puffy eyes.

“You decent?”

“You care?” He yelled over his shoulder scoffing at the fact that his roommate would even ask at this point after seeing him naked so many times before.

“I brought the java.” Tyler placed the chipped black cup down next to him but he intercepted it and immediately took a hard swig of the hot coffee. “You have 2 minutes before we need to leave by the way.”

“Why? It’s so early.” He whined at him.

“Because you overslept you beautiful little bitch and it’s like 11 the fuck you mean?.”

“Shut up.”

He turned back to the mirror standing up straighter this time and turning side to side to examine his chest.

“Think it’s a tape day.” He groaned digging through the medicine cabinet for the bright orange packet labeled KT Tape.

“Only 2 more weeks, babe.” Tyler tickled his sides trying to get a smile from him. “Can I put your hair in pigtails while you do the thing?”

“Yes please.” He finally smiled at his friend and dumped the last 2 strips of snipped black tape out onto the counter.

While Tyler was behind him securing his hair in small braided pigtails either side of his head with chunky black hair ties he went to work snipping one of the strips in half.

Placing it an inch or 2 from his nipple he pulled it back against his ribs and secured the tape and his left breast against his side.

Tyler was right, in 2 more weeks he’d finally be getting top surgery and he’d never again have to worry about tape, binders or wearing 70 layers of shirts to hide his chest.

“You going to draw a new one?”

“Already did.” Danny answered while he secured the other strip in the same spot on his right side. “That’s why I overslept, I worked all night on it. I’ll post it later though.”

“Okie dokie. Happy 3 years.” Tyler took a break from his braiding to hug him while Danny let the significance of those words sink in.

This week marked his 156th shot of testosterone that he’s had to inject into his upper thigh. It just so happens the anniversary of it falls around the same time as pride month so each year he’d draw his body and the progress it’s made instead of taking a photo like most of the other trans posts he saw.

“By the way cute guy totally drew me.” He quickly changed the subject as he tucked his plain black shirt into his jeans before they left the apartment.

“You’re late.” Their friend Jason scolded when they opened the door and spotted him tapping his foot waiting for them while their other friends smoked on the stairs outside.

“Only by…” Tyler checked his phone’s time. “2 minutes.”

“2 minutes is still 2 minutes too late.” Jason snapped at him making them both panic.

“It’s Danny’s fault! He overslept, yell at him!”

“Hey! Way to throw me under the damn ocean.”

Tyler pulled up his shoulders but when they saw Jason still glaring at them they quickly ran down the stairs to avoid another scolding.

“I could never yell at this angel baby.” Jason cooed throwing his arm around Danny’s shoulders when he reached them on the curb.

If Danny had been paying attention he’d probably have made some smug comment to rub the special treatment he got from their unbearably anal friend in but reading the message he had received while getting ready was just far more important.

@ nottodaysatan: I wanted to ask you something. A whole bunch of other artists are doing this pride thing and I don’t really know what to draw but a friend suggested I do a piece of me kissing someone? Would you be interested if I drew you?

“Cute guy distracting you?” Tyler teased.

“Who’s cute guy?” Aaron on the other side of them asked making Danny blush.

“I don’t know if he’s cute or not, I’ve never seen his face but his drawings are super cute. He’s just this like really, really good artist that I’ve been following for like ever.” He explained trying not to give his infatuation away.

“Stalking him you mean.” Tyler scoffed making ooh’s arise from the rest of the group.

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“No, you!” The roommates began bickering back and forth when Jason’s palm across the back of Tyler’s head broke them up.

“Bitch!” The shorter boy yelped. “Slap him too!”

“Never.” Jason kissed Danny’s forehead which made him giggle and stick his tongue out at Tyler.

He frowned at them and mumbled something about being unloved but was promptly shut up when Danny’s arm swept his legs out from under him and the other was placed behind his back.

He spun him around in a circle once or twice till Tyler broke face and laughed it off before they continued walking to the big college building where their class for the new semester was.

He did however refuse to put Tyler down once while they made their way across campus earning them a few glances from passing students.

It was still the 2nd week of their 2nd year and because their new classes were in a strange building Aaron and Danny, who were both music majors, asked Jason to tag along in case they couldn’t find their way back.

Since Jason was studying design he’d been in the building in question during their first year and knew his way around it much better.

Tyler didn’t actually study anything there but he worked part time in the cafeteria so he’d usually walk with them just to keep an eye on Danny. Not that he didn’t trust him or anything but he knew how easily distracted the pizza loving mermaid was and after the 5th time that he got lost on campus he vowed never to let him walk alone again.

When they all finally separated Danny and Tyler dragged out their goodbye like a mom saying goodbye to her kid on the first day of school.

Danny fake cried trying to be as overly dramatic as humanly possible even throwing his arms around his short friend’s shoulders as Tyler screamed some barely audible babbles about his baby growing up.

“Don’t die! I love you!” He shouted behind him when they finally did part as Danny watched him walking away waving at him.

“I want extra cheese on my fries for lunch!”

“I got to go too.” Jason tapped Danny’s shoulder while he was placing his order.

“Okay. See you for lunch? Pretty please?”

“Sure, I don’t think I have anything around then.” Jason smiled at him before he turned to leave.

“Bye, babe.” Danny pulled him back for a hug but let go just in time for Aaron to finish saying good morning to his first year boyfriend, Justin.

Despite their dawdling in the hallways by the time they took their usual seats way at the back by the door the lecturer still hadn’t arrived so Danny started scrolling through his favorite artist’s feed again to ease his boredom.

@ nottodaysatan: You know I’ll need a photo of you if I’m going to be drawing you?

@ i_adore_u: Right sorry.

He had completely forgotten to even reply to his crush but seems it wasn’t necessary, he must’ve read his mind or something and knew it was a yes.

Danny quickly scrolled through his phone looking for the selfie he took before they left hoping it looked decent enough to impress his crush. Even though he thought he looked down right adorable with his braids, the small brimmed hat tilted back on his head and the cute bag thrown over his shoulder resting against his hip.

@ nottodaysatan: Thanks. Not bad 😜😉😬

He bit his thumb to hide the grin forming at the corners of his mouth from the less than subtle compliment before he decided to take a risk.

@ i_adore_u: Why don’t we make it fair and let me draw you too?

Typing …

He instantly regretted his decision when he saw the floating dots and tried doing damage control as quickly as possible.

@ i_adore_u: I don’t want to you to go through the trouble and not get something in return that’s all

The flashing icon at the bottom left of the screen disappeared and Danny’s heart dropped right out of his ass.

‘I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.’ He started internally chanting, cursing his own stupidity when his phone buzzed again.

@ nottodaysatan sent you a message

@ nottodaysatan: Seems fair. Sorry I’m in class so can’t take a better one.

Danny had to resist doing a little happy dance when he saw the message but especially when he opened it and saw the selfie he had sent.

“Cute guy.” He whispered when his mouth dropped open at the sight of the most beautiful tan man he’s ever seen.

He was in a white tank top with messy black hair and looked down at the camera with big dark brown eyes and a hint of a smile at the corners of a his gorgeously full pink lips framed by dimples and some light scruff.

@ nottodaysatan: Make me look good or I’ll kill you 😉😠😜

@ i_adore_u: Meanie ☹️☹️

Danny typed out followed by another selfie of him pursing his lips, pulling the best emoji like face he could that he quickly took just as the lecturer was walking in.

Before he could check the response Shane, his musical theory lecturer, started the presentation. Instead of paying attention however Danny took out his sketchbook and a red pencil and began drawing them.

At first he started innocently enough with a reference of a picture he and Tyler had taken over the weekend where they were on their couch together. Tyler’s arms around his neck and his lips against his forehead, perfect for an innocent enough doodle.

The longer he was looking at the picture of cute guy though the more his mind started to wander and eventually he began drawing a second one just for himself.

This time using his fantasies as reference while imagining what those puffy lips would feel like against his own or the way his fingers would caress the back of his neck.

“I open my eyes and see his head burried between my legs…I grab his hair and pull his face even closer into my cro…”

“Hey!” Someone barked followed by a very loud, very hard open palmed slap on the metal table they were sitting at which made Danny nearly jump out of his seat.

“I was singing out loud again, wasn’t I?” Danny apologetically smiled at the circle of friends sitting around the table when he realized where he was.

He had missed the entire lecture too lost in his drawing and by the time the hour was over he had finished the drawing of them kissing and was working on cleaning it up on his iPad while they sat outside for lunch. How he got there in his zombie like haze was still a mystery though.

“Yes.” They all dryly answered in unison.

Danny had a very, very bad habit of singing out loud whenever he got too lost in his work and seems like many a countless times before he ended up not only embarrassing himself again but his friends too.

“And you were singing The Wet Dream.” Aaron next to him grinned mischievously.

“Why did I ever listen to that stupid album you gave me?” Danny groaned dropping into his palms to hide his insanely flushed face.

He made a vow right then and there to never, EVER ask Aaron for music suggestions again. The last recommendation he gave was a Lords of Acid CD that only seemed to get him into even more trouble than usual. Case in point.

“Are you going to talk to us or just draw that all day?” Brian asked stealing one of his fries.

“I just have to finish this outline then I’ll be all yours.” He slapped Brian’s hand away and popped a fistful of cheesy fries that Tyler crisped up a little extra for him into his mouth. “How it look tho far?”

He sat back a bit so his friends could lean over and look at the drawing of cute guy’s lips brushing over his with his hand around his throat. Their lips only connected by the small string of saliva Danny added but their bodies pressed tightly together sitting in each other’s laps with their legs interwoven.

“Hey, Roy.” Jason tilted his head up to greet someone behind Danny, who at first he disregarded until the person spoke.

“It’s pretty.” An unfamiliar gravely voice commented.

“Thanks.” Danny turned to thank whoever, presumably the guy his friend greeted, it was for the compliment but when he looked behind him there was nobody there.

Instead the stranger plopped down onto the empty seat next to Danny with his crossed elbows hitting the table. His big, perfect teethed smile framed by dimples which made Danny’s head spin. “Hi.”

“Cute guy.” He whispered in disbelief feeling his face turn pale as if he’s see a ghost.

“Name’s Roy actually but that works too.” He laughed nodding his head. “I thought I’ve seen you around before. If I knew we went to the same college I’d have said hello sooner.”

“Um…” Danny’s mouth flapped open and shut for a few seconds like a fish out of water before he looked to Jason in fear.

“Danny, that’s Roy he’s a 4th year. Roy that’s Danny, he’s shy.” Jason clarified pointing to each boy as he introduced them.

“So listen, I sketched something in…”

“I gotta’ go.” Danny interrupted him and with his iPad in hand he ran off towards the other side of campus for his commercial music class.

Roy wanted to run after him but his legs locked up when he realized how desperate and uncool it would look.

“Sorry for scaring of your friend.” He looked to the students around the table, tapping the metal with his index finger to drown out the awkward silence when nobody responded.

“I know how you can make it up.”

When Danny got home after his last class, too embarrassed of his behavior at lunch but even more from the fact that cute guy, Roy, saw what he drew of them Danny decided a nap was probably the best option.

Well embarrassment and the fact that he didn’t sleep more than about 3 or 4 hours the night before and his body wasn’t taking the fatigue well.

He woke up very grumpy 2 hours later when he heard his friends in the living room chattering and making themselves lunch and walked out ready to give them an earful for so rudely interrupting his peaceful afternoon nap.

“You mother fucking cocksuckers!” He yelled swinging his door open but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a new face amongst the group of boys.

“Hey. Cute briefs.” Roy raised a hand to wave but before he actually could Danny ducked back into the room slamming the door shut abruptly behind him.

‘Fuck me running.’ He closed his eyes praying this was a bad dream. No way did the cute guy he’s been crushing on for over a year even before seeing his picture just see him without a shirt on.

He was going to laugh at his taped down chest any second now he knew it. The sooner Roy left the better that’s the only solution. He’d leave and they’d never speak again.

Or he’d leave and tell everyone what a gross freak he was.

‘Shit!’ He threw the book closest to his reach against the bed.

“Something I said?” Roy asked when Danny came back out after calming himself, this time with his shirt on and his jean half hazardously pulled up.

‘God he’s cute.’ Roy shifted in his seat at the sight of him, making sure it wasn’t too noticeable by leaning for his cup of coffee in the process.

“No.” Danny pouted walking into the kitchen before returning with a beer and making sure to stand on the other side of the room away from him.

Roy took a sip from his cup to collect his thoughts so he could perfectly and effortlessly recite the excuse he had prepared as to why he was in his apartment.

“Just came over to talk about those drawings. Thought maybe we could do a collab? You can work on the shading and color since your digital shading is phenomenal and I don’t have a tablet or anything and then I can do the fabrics and bodies.”

“I don’t want to work with you.” Danny blurted out in the coldest tone he could muster given his embarrassed state.

“You don’t?”

“I just don’t like your like energy man.”

If he had looked up from the tab of his beer can that he was fiddling with he’d have seen the hurt expression on Roy’s face.

The sting of rejection hitting a nerve straight down to the center of Roy’s being, gnawing at his ego causing his go to cold defensiveness to rear it’s ugly head.

“Right, I’m sorry what’s your name again?”

This caught Danny’s attention. He looked up from his fidgeting and stomped back into his room. “Get out of my fucking apartment.” He snarled slamming the door shut.

Danny heard some commotion outside his room but decided it wasn’t his problem, bad enough he just insulted the guy he had a crush on and told him to leave he didn’t want to face the consequences or admit he overreacted too.

“What the hell is your problem?” The door flew open and Roy barged in.

He couldn’t leave it there, he should’ve but he couldn’t. If someone was going to reject him like that they better give him a damn good reason. Actually if Danny was going to reject him like that that was the case. Anyone else he’d probably just had read them and left it there.

“I told you to leave.”

“Answer me then and I will.” The shorter man stood his ground folding his arms with a brow raised waiting for him to answer after he closed the door for privacy.

“Maybe I just don’t like y…”

“And don’t give me that bullshit answer again.”

Danny stood still for a second trying to center his thoughts before he took a deep breath and blurted out his feelings. “Fine! I have a crush on you!”

“So you’re 9?” Roy snorted. “You like me so you tell me you don’t like me? Yeah, real fucking logical.”

“No I just…” Danny looked down feeling ashamed of not only his actions but his body. “You saw, stuff. Stuff that I didn’t want you to see.”

‘Stuff?’ Roy quickly deduced what he meant and without thinking blurted it out.

“Your chest?” Roy’s harsh voice softened as he slowly approached him as if he was a wounded animal who might run any second. He placed his hands either side of Danny’s hips, looking into his eyes for permission before he touched him.

Danny’s heart began racing uncontrollably fast, the butterflies in his stomach now in a complete chaotic frenzy as Roy’s brown eyes flicked between his.

Slowly, delicately almost his hands slid up his sides underneath his shirt, lifting the fabric to reveal first his abdomen with the fuzz down the center before he exposed his taped down chest.

“You mean this?” He knew what he was doing was completely irrational and way too unlike himself but something inside him couldn’t stay away from this boy.

What he knew his words could never sufficiently express he gave over to his actions. He needed to reassure him of how beautiful his body was and that he never had to be ashamed of it.

“Yeah.” Danny nodded looking away from him. “Why do you even care if I like you or not?”

Roy tilted his head up to lean in closer, close enough that Danny could feel his nervous, rapid breathing against his lips.

“Because I like you…” Roy whispered into his parted lips before they made contact with his.

Instinctively as their lips passionately made up for every second of yearning Danny’s body melted into Roy’s.

But when his hands came up to hold onto the shaved back of Roy’s head he unexpectedly jumped away and released the fabric of his shirt.

“Shit I…sorry.”

Danny wanted to question why he pulled away so out of the blue or more importantly why he kissed him at all but before he could Roy, now a bright red, was already on his way out the door.

“Hey? Wha…what was?” He tried following the boy speeding out the apartment’s front door but for such a short guy he was actually surprisingly fast.

“I have to go.” Roy shouted never looking behind him as he ran down the steps. “Sorry!”

Danny was simply left staring at the now empty street where he swore he still saw Roy’s dust cloud like some cartoon character after a hasty escape.

“What did you say to him?” Jason came to stand behind him.

“Nothing. He just kissed me and, and ran.”

“He kissed you?” His friends all shouted and he turned around unsure who to look at or answer.

“Yeah?”

“He kissed you? Like, on the lips?” Tyler repeated the question.

“Which lips?” Aaron smiled making Justin smack his chest.

“Yeah which lips though?” He asked too.

“Jason.” Danny disregarded them and turned to his skinny friend placing his hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes. “Tell me everything you know about him.”

“Howdy howdy.”

“I fucked up.” Roy sighed into the mic of the white headphones hanging either side of him.

“What now?” His blonde friend on the screen raised both brows hiding his mouth behind his cup of tea.

Roy dropped his head into his palm, running his fingers through his unruly black hair getting ready to explain everything, not just to Shane but to himself as well.

“Remember that artist I follow? The one with the pencil sketches that he digitally shades?”

“Sure, let’s say I do.”

“I was right, he does go here.”

“Oh. Do I know him? What’s his name?”

“Danny something. He’s really tall, real slim, long dark brown hair…gorgeous.” He tried his best to regain some form of composure but picturing him as he explained just turned him back into jelly.

“Danny Noriega. He’s in my musical theory class, really good kid.”

“You do know him…never mind then I’ll talk to you when I get home.” He tried hanging up their FaceTime call but Shane stopped him.

He took a sip from his starbucks cup and looked around at the other scattered about students waiting for their drinks in the courtyard. He knew it was preposterous but he still felt embarrassed at the thought that any of them might actually be listening and see he had a heart. A heart he never showed and had no intention on showing any more of.

“This morning I met him and he ran away, so logically I went to his um, apartment and yeah we kissed.”

He watched the grin on his roommate’s face grow insanely bright making him roll his eyes.

He was usually so in control and composed, how did he let things get so out of hand and let his emotions take over like that? Roy never even liked anyone or had hookups, he didn’t have time for feelings and romance and all that other mushy crap.

He focused on his studies and his art and that was that. He was a 4.0 student who’s never even gotten a B and made damn sure it stayed that way by remaining locked only on what was important, his studies.

Yet here he was frantically calling his roommate after running out the apartment of a boy he kissed the same way he did after his first kiss ever in middle school.

He was embarrassed? Him?

The same guy who’s life motto was ‘Never let a bitch see you sweat.’? How did that happen?

Sure this way of thinking was how he got his reputation of being the no bullshit person he was, and yes some took it as confidence and others as cocky but either way people respected him and that was all that mattered.

But Danny did something to him. He had managed to turn him into a total nervous mess with one simple kiss.

“What’s up?” He heard the last person he wanted to even think about speak on the other end behind Shane. The voice of ‘it’ only making him sink even lower into his seat.

“Roy’s sharing his feelings.” Shane smiled at his boyfriend leaning up for a kiss before both men turned back to him.

“Feelings are for ugly people.” Willam snarled but Shane hit his shoulder and told him to zip it.

“Agreed.” Roy nodded tilting his head into his hand. “So how about we forget I have them and I’ll see you at home?”

He cut Shane off mid sentence by hanging up and instead took out his textbooks and sketch pad to start working on the upcoming project he had due. Anything to distract himself from the beautiful creature that was Danny Noriega.

The less he thought about him the better.

His usual method of distraction didn’t work so great this time though, all he could do was think about those lips and the way the petite chest rose and fell when he lifted Danny’s shirt or the way the faint muscles on his abdomen flinched when he touched him.

His sketch of a boatneck gown with elegant filigree like detailing soon turned into a drawing of Danny with his hands tied above his head with the same fabric as his gown. His small chest with the black strips covered in hickeys and bites.

‘Fine! I have a crush on you!’ Danny’s words echoed in his mind as he etched the blushing around his bites in with his red pencil.

‘You saw, stuff. That I didn’t want you to see.’

Stuff.

His mind wandered further to the feel of his soft skin under his fingertips as he outlined the muscle of his pec. Honestly what stuff did Danny even worry about? His chest was so petite that Roy doubted even when it wasn’t taped down it would look any different.

‘I wish you could…’ His train of thought got interrupted by his phone lighting up making his heart skip a beat.

He braced himself first before looking down at the device, some part hoping that maybe Danny would’ve dm’d him or something.

‘Of course not.’

He felt like an idiot for ever even thinking that, if you run out on somebody after exposing something he was clearly very self conscious about why would he ever want to talk to you again?

He didn’t mean any malice by it he just truly didn’t care and he wanted to try and show Danny that. Clearly a failed lame attempt to make him feel better about himself.

He couldn’t think about this anymore though it was giving him too much of a headache so instead he turned his phone on airplane mode and turned on his music to zone out any further spiraling thoughts.

With no further distractions Roy eventually got so lost in his sketching that he worked through about 4 more cups of coffee before he called it a night and packed up his stuff.

But on his way home he couldn’t get Danny off his mind again and decided to take a chance and message him. What’s the worst that could happen right?

Danny couldn’t sleep that night, his mind was too plagued with everything that had happened that day and thoughts of his rushed kiss with Roy.

“Roy…”

Jason had told him what little he knew of him like how he was a New York native ish, unlike the rest of their friend group, and how he’d been a legend amongst the other design students for his incredible garments and impressive work ethic.

For example at the end of every semester the college would put on an exhibit of the work they did and Roy’s work has never been skipped over once in the four years that he’s been there. Apparently the other lecturers even used him as an example for what the others should stride to be.

‘No. Sleep, I need sleep.’ Danny scolded himself when he found himself halfway through Roy’s feed again. He switched off his lights, turned on some music and put his phone to one side to try his absolute best to calm his mind and actually sleep.

When he realized it was a futile attempt and that he’d probably never fall asleep at this rate he, out of habit, reached for his go to cure for insomnia, which pretty much meant reaching down his boxers.

As he closed his eyes thinking back on Roy’s lips he wrapped his index finger and middle finger around his growth, which was rapidly growing more erect the intenser his fantasies became.

“Fuck…Roy…” He moaned through broken breathing when he took his now fully erect growth between his fingers and began jerking himself off faster, rubbing his head with his thumb with every pass.

“Fuck me.” His moans grew louder when he brought his other hand up towards his nipples, squeezing the small pink nub tightly as he bucked his hips into his fingers.

He slid his feet up curling his knees up shut together as the thought of Roy’s puffy lips engulfing his growth overtook his mind.

He wanted to feel him, every single part of him. His hands on his skin, his dick in his mouth, those gorgeously full lips on his - everything.

Before he could enjoy his rapidly building up release he felt his phone vibrating next to his head about 3 or 4 times and panicked thinking it meant a call, probably from his mom since she was then only person to call him ever.

@ nottodaysatan: Sorry I ran out I shouldn’t have panicked and just left like that but I like you too

@ nottodaysatan sent you a message

@ nottodaysatan: I finished that drawing of us to make it up to you

@ nottodaysatan sent you a message

@ nottodaysatan: Okay maybe I drew 2 things I couldn’t get you out of my mind

@ nottodaysatan: Here’s my number call me when you get these so I know you still want to collab 800 - 454 - 8000

Danny threw his hand over his face to hide his squealing from the joy that he actually got Roy’s number but more of the fact that Roy actually admitted to being shy.

He immediately texted Roy and after that sleep definitely wasn’t an option anymore. They spent the entire night talking about everything from their majors or art to even bad hook ups and pizza.

It was like the longer they talked the more Roy’s softer side came out instead of the harsh always professional side Jason warned him about. In fact it was more like Jason had been talking about someone completely different.

Roy was sweet and charming, a great sense of humor and quick wit and he never seemed to question Danny’s transition. He never even brought it up.

Roy - 04:22

I have to go to bed now chola

Danny - 04:22

Whyyyyyyyy????

Roy - 04:23

Bc I have class at 8

Danny - 04:23

Fiiiiiiiine. Meanie.

Danny - 04:23

Goodnight

Typing …

The 3 bubbles disappeared again and Danny waited a good 20 minutes for them to return but they never did, eventually he decided Roy probably just fell asleep and gave up.

He went to work setting the alarms he forgot so he’d have more than 5 minutes in the morning before he set the drawing Roy did of his chest as his lock screen.

He heard a knock at the door and after checking the time realized it was probably Tyler coming home from his other job as a bartender. He was just as scatter brained as him and often forgot his keys at home.

“Stop losing your…Hi.” His mouth fell open and he bit his lip to hide his huge baffled grin when he saw Roy standing outside instead of his roommate.

“God I have no idea how I’m going to function on 3 hours of sleep. I mean I’m used to the long hours trust me, but this is ridiculous.” Roy casually walked in past him yawning as he spoke.

Before Danny could even register what was happening Roy had disappeared into his bedroom.

‘What the…’ He chuckled to himself till reality hit him and he made a run for it after him.

“Hey, you said you’re going to bed?” He asked standing in the doorway where he saw Roy already making himself comfortable in his messy bed beneath the covers.

Only sitting up for a second to yank his shirt off over his head revealing his stubbly chest before he fell back down into the sheets.

Danny ogled him for a minute taking in how beautiful his body was, he wasn’t well built by any means but he sure was very well defined with every curve of muscle around his pecs and biceps perfect.

“Never said who’s bed.” Roy yawned again securing a pillow beneath his head.

“Well you can’t sleep here, sorry.” Danny stated matter of factly walking towards him with his arms crossed.

“Too late already asleep.” Roy closed his eyes and started fake snoring which made Danny giggle. God how could this absolute idiot ever be the scary bully Jason warned him about?

“You can’t! Get up!” Danny grabbed the pillow from under his head and hit him with it a few times.

Roy however quickly put an end to it by grabbing his waist and pulling him down onto the bed with him. “Shh, tired. You can continue hitting me in the morning.”

Danny couldn’t put on his very unsuccessful tough guy act any longer and instead snuggled up into the extended arm under his head to nuzzle his face into Roy’s collar. “Fine.”

God he smelled good. Danny closed his eyes to take in every second of Roy overwhelming his senses and savor the moment he had longed for so long.

“I’ll make it up to you then.” He yawned a final time before pulling Danny’s hips into his with his hand on his ass. “Now goodnight, chola.”

He wanted to enjoy the moment of closeness a little longer but when he felt his chest hitting Roy’s and his bulge pressing against him his dysphoria kicked in and he panicked.

“Wait, no. I can’t.” He pushed himself away from Roy and off the bed but Roy grabbed his wrist so he’d be fall back in a seated position on the edge of the bed.

“Why not? It’s just sleeping?” Roy tried putting his hand on his waist but Danny sprung up again.

“No.” He covered his chest with his arms and looked over at his briefs laying to the side with his packer in it.

In his peripherals he caught Roy’s eyes following his which only made his anxiety burn heavier.

He was utterly vulnerable without his packer on and without his chest taped down or binded. He didn’t want Roy to see him like this and run. Sure he saw his chest when it was flattened but this was different, his chest was different.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

“No…” He could feel his uncertainty bubbling up along with his insecurities the longer he stood there shielding himself from the boy in front of him.

“Come closer, please?” Roy asked sitting up slightly, resting on his elbow. “So I can talk to you.”

Danny obliged stepping closer to the bed so Roy could grab his hand and guide him as he climbed with his knees onto the mattress.

“Okay.” Roy pulled him down by the waist when he got close enough so Danny would be straddling him before he sat up in a similar position to what Danny drew. “Can I touch you?”

“Why?” Danny looked into his eyes unsure of his intentions. He trusted Roy enough not to run but not enough that he knew for sure he wasn’t going to disapprove of what he saw once he looked behind the proverbial curtains.

“I want to show you something.” Roy smiled.

Fuck that smile. He couldn’t say no to that beautiful smile. “Okay.”

Roy placed his hands under Danny’s shirt on his ribs making his heart race uncontrollably again as he leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips connected slowly at first till Danny eased into his touch and their kissing intensified. The way Roy’s lips passionately locked with his distracted his frantic mind so much he didn’t even flinch when the hands on his ribs moved down to hook his thumbs into the fabric of his shirt and pull it off over his head.

“That’s not fair you’re too good at that.” Danny whined when Roy pulled away.

“I told you earlier I don’t care about this?” Roy tilted his head down to kiss down Danny’s jaw as he held his petite chest in his hands.

Roy wasn’t lying either. He didn’t care and now that he’s seen Danny’s chest without anything holding it down he cared even less. It was small, probably even smaller than his was. Small enough that he couldn’t fathom why Danny would ever be ashamed of it or even feel the need to hide it.

As Roy’s mouth continued placing kisses in a trail down his jaw and throat, nipping at his pulse point the warmth of his palms pressed against his nipples reignited the release Danny had been denied earlier.

“Oh fuck…don’t do that.” Danny moaned lifting his head to allow Roy better access to his jugular and clavicle as he kissed further down.

“What? This?” Roy smirked pushing him down so he’d fall onto his back. Danny watched him with hungry eyes as he bent down over him taking one of his nipples in his mouth.

“Yeah that…shit.” Danny moaned deeper this time, his hips lifting against Roy on their own searching for any contact to ease the familiar tingling growing in his lap.

“Why not?” Roy let go of the pink bud with a pop and moved on to the next one.

His exhaustion was being too overshadowed by the intense desire to hear those moans again, to feel more of the body pinned beneath him to even give himself time to think what he was doing through.

“Because, you already ruined it once tonight.” Danny whined.

“I did?” Roy cocked a brow letting go of his nipple to look at him containing his smug grinning to himself.

Oops.

“Maybe.” Danny blushed looking away. “I…I was thinking about you earlier and then you dm’d me and I couldn’t, um finish and then we stared talking and stuff.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Roy purred in his ear before he fell back into the same position as earlier yawning again. “In the morning.”

“But…fine.” Danny pouted crawling over the bed to lie down next to him. “But I need the blankie between us.”

“Why?” Roy looked up puzzled at him trying to figure out what was happening as Danny tried tugging at the blanket to pull it between them.

“It’s weird.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t…I have this thing where I can’t have my hands touching my chest.” He admitted looking away. “It just freaks me out if I feel any part of me touching my chest and then I can’t function or sleep or anything.”

Seeing the vulnerability again made Roy’s heart grow heavy, he didn’t know how he’d do it but he knew that he needed to help in any small way possible.

“That’s okay.” Roy smiled swiping the blankets away and pulling him in so close against himself there was no room between them. “Then you won’t have to.”

“I hate you.” Danny pouted draping his arm around Roy’s neck so his hand could play with his hair.

“Really?” Roy asked with a hint of amusement in his tired voice. Giving him a quick kiss before he took the pouty lip poking out between his teeth feeling Danny moan into his mouth. “Because I adore you.”

#cute boi #imafuckinglibra #adore delano #bianca del rio #biadore #college au #trans!danny #tw dysmorphia #tw swearing #rpdr fanfiction #submission #m/m au #trans character

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