#trans people let’s do each others injections and kiss

[gayestcowboy]

i’m team subcutaneous 💪💪💪

[writing-for-the-gays]

hi its me againnnn,,, ermm i would like to request poly billy x stu x (ftm, fat, hairy ect ect) reader again :3c but fluff HCs this time :3c

-🐛 anon

Ough these boys be home of sexuals in a world of homes of phobics , continuation of the other fic actually. Disk jockey reader. Again me and 🐛 anon are holding hands and frolicking through fields.

No pretty pic this time I'm reblogging this with memes I made for these fics

Fluff! Tooth rottingly sweet.

"catch my breath and hold it for me."

- you three are a power couple behind a closed door. Infront of people you have to pretend to be very straight with each other (as straight as you three can be, if you three were a line you'd be a circle.)

- to be blunt they're in love with you.

- you got custom rings for each other about a year into the relationship, to symbolize your dedication.

- and these boys take it very seriously. They keep the rings on a necklace they wear underneath their shirts when out , and wear them proudly on their fingers when around you.

- alone Stu and Billy are affectionate, Stu being more like a dog and Billy being more like a cat.

- Stu will run up to you and throw his arms around you I'm a big hug when you walk through the door of his house and Billy will wait until you're all sat down to come up and lay his head on your chest, and whisper to you Abt how much he missed you.

- in conjunction with this is their love language. Billy can be somewhat touch averse, especially after a rough day, or whenever, and has a tendency to pull away if the physical touch is too much, but he loves acts of service, and will often cook for you, and do whatever you ask of him including, but not limited to, murder.

- Stu's big on physical affection, and will hang off your arm whenever he can, hold your hand (he sometimes pretends to be measuring hand size out in public so he can have some more skin to skin contact even when it's not totally socially acceptable.), and kiss you often, but he prefers to do activities with you instead of for you, and tries to get you to do random things with him, it doesn't even matter what it is. You find yourself doing dishes with him more times than you can count.

- it can lead to some really tender moments, and you three really relish in these moments. It's one of your favorite parts of the relationship.

- Stu being trans means that when you're binding you get tons of reminders to take breaks, especially considering the fact that binding methods around this time aren't exactly safe. More often than not you find yourself in a stall with him while he massages your back and checks your ribs.

- Billy has an equal amount of worry, considering he's known Stu since forever and so is intimately familiar with trans topics, but he's less nice about it. He refuses to let you cuddle him or vice versa if you have your binder on. He also helps you take your T injections because Stu can handle a lot, but needles aren't one of them. He does T gel that's how bad it is.

- every night you all rotate who's the middle spoon (what else do I call it).

- Stu's absent parents mean that you've basically decided to move in with him. You don't have the most aware parents either. (Dead, probably.)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You laugh gleefully, worn down black and white shoes thud against the concrete as you run past Billy and Stu and onto the top of the playground.

"Fuck you two! I'm the god of this bitch." You shout down to them, slamming your hands on top of the plastic tube slide making a hollow thudding noise that echoes dully in the cool night air.

Billy lets out a snort while Stu lets out loud bark of a laugh. "What? You don't find me powerful enough? Fine you don't get to watch the shooting stars up here with me." You promptly stick your middle fingers up "Have fun on wood-chips!" You playfully sneer, the bright smile on your face portraying the playfulness.

"Not if I can get up there!" Stu says sprinting to the metal platforms that lead up to the playground. You let out a dramatic gasp and race to them as well, giggling the whole time.

Billy looked on with a soft smirk, he eyed the playground and tried to find another way up, spotting a rock wall he snuck around while you jokingly wrestled Stu.

Billy climbed up the rocks, quietly sneaking up onto the playground, tip toeing his way behind you and locked eyes with Stu who smirked.

Billy wrapped his arms around your middle and hauled you back, making you let out a genuine frightened yelp.

"Billy!" You scolded before giggling breathlessly "Fine you two can come up here with me." You say squirming out of Billy's arms you smile up at the starry sky.

Stu sets down a blanket, and sits down on it. You follow and sit next to him leaning your head on his shoulder. Billy lays his head in your lap.

You hum a soft tune and relax into your boys, you and Stu's rings clicking together when you join hands.

Not long after twinkling streaks of light begin to dot the sky and you sigh.

"I don't think there's anywhere else I'd rather be." Billy says softly, and you nod with an awestruck smile not losing your focus on the lights. "Same." Stu says.

You don't notice their gazes locked on you and not the sky.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

-id be fucking dumb not to mention that you all regularly fuck with the radio station when you can.

- you like your job but it's funny to let Stu or Billy just say some dumb shit on air. Nothing too scandalous so you don't get taken off sir but enough to get a solid laugh out of you.

- Stu normally tells what I can boil down to 'haha funny penis joke' and Billy's a little more sophisticated. ('haha funny penis joke but less obvious' basically)

- let me be perfectly clear, Stu and Billy couldn't give less of a shit about what you look like, but the fact you're bigger than the both of them makes them all sorts of soft.

- they call you their 'big bear' and have accidentally called you that multiple times in public (mainly Stu going 'big bear!' when he sees you, he says it's an accident but it may be just to see the panic on everyone's face for a second.)

- Stu likes to wrestle you, especially if you're playing around or in general rough housing. He sometimes pretends it's just guys being guys but it's really just to be close to you in public. He also likes the feeling of trying to overpower you because he's definitely not in charge with Billy, but you're nice enough to let him pretend for a little bit.

- in an AU where they don't die, somehow aren't caught for their crimes, and don't do anything dumb enough to get them killed before 2015 they see the legalization of gay marriage across the entire united states. Billy and Stu have a big fight about who gets to legally marry you, of course you're all at the altar, but whoever legally marries you will get to change the last name of the entire polycule.

- you agreed on a hyphenated name but you can only have one of their last names and both of them aren't too keen on changing their name (Billy wins, meaning you're 'Y/n Loomis-L/n' Stu's 'Stu Loomis-L/n' and billy is of course 'Billy Loomis-L/n')

- by the start of the reception Stu isn't angry anymore and keeps repeating Mr.Loomis-L/n every time he has to say something to one of you two.

- for now you three have different last names but the exact same heart.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Jaylock, specifically with transmasc Jekyll? T4T legends.

Ah yes, my favorite mix; a trans guy who wants to get trample by a big, strong werewolf, and a trans werewolf who is basically just a puppy. Hell yes <3

Also did I say that these were going to be complimentary to canon? Ahahah well I have no idea how to do that with thi- oh yeah it's an au it doesn't have to be canon complaint ahah nvm also realize i keep steering these to how these ship begins but eh no one has complained so far <3

Also at this point I think I will have to put in keep reading links bc these are getting long sjdhfsjdf

MMmokay. We can all agree that Jasper had a huge crush on Henry from the beginning? Good.

Like, Henry saved him from the cops, was incredibly nice to him from the beginning, and showed him/let him join the Society in the first place. Jasper looks up to him a lot. Henry becomes his only real friend (except for Rachel but... Well... She is more out to get with him rather than be friends with him) so of course he would just... Really... Really... Like Henry after a while.

Virginia catches Jasper watching Henry talking to some of the other Lodgers at some point and she knows exactly what he is thinking. He can try defending himself for exactly 3 seconds before all excuses die in his throat and Virginia begins to pat his back.

"That's normal, mate. Everyone has a crush on Henry at some point." - "Everyone????" - "Yep. You won't hear half of this lot admit it, but everyone has had some kind of crush on him." - "Even you?" - "I said everyone, didn't I?"

Cue a lot of embarrassment from Jasper, cue a lot of understanding and sympathetic gossiping by the other Lodgers, cue a lot of "What do you mean that's the best thing about Henry?", cue a lot of "don't worry, you'll get over the crush soon!".

Except he doesn't. He waits days, weeks, maybe even months, but the crush never disappears. The fact that Henry is so stupidly sweet and caring and loves to spend time with him doesn't help Jasper's situation at all. And the Lodgers notice, and the Lodgers tease him about it.

Henry, as often, remains blissfully unaware.

Or at least that's what Jasper thinks. When Henry comes around to his lab to say hi and check in, and when he brings him some sweets that he claims Rachel sent him to give to him, and when Henry just so happens to eye Jasper up and down, Jasper believes that Henry is just being... Friendly. Very friendly.

And he is just being friendly, at least Henry tells himself that too. Or maybe it's the way he sometimes have a hard time looking away from the werewolf that he realizes that he is... Quite accidentally... Being a bit more than friendly.

And then Jasper-- accidentally or inaccidentally-- comes out to Henry. Perhaps it would be like the same panic in canon but him actually confessing to Henry instead, or Henry would maybe accidentally walk in on Jasper changing. Either way, Jasper halfly panics and Henry just gets the brightest grin on his face, so excited, before he immediately tells Jasper that he can be calm because he understands perfectly!

He doesn't even manage to get out that he, too, is trans, before he immediately starts asking Jasper if he has started to medically transitioned-- like "have you had any surgeries? Or have you taken potions? Oh there are a lot of good potions to change-- personally, Lanyon helped me with surgeries but I made some helpful potions for Virginia-- Oh did you know Virginia is like us, too? But reverse, of course--"

Henry is just. Rambling to poor Jasper. Poor Jasper who is permanently stuck in a :O. He can barely process the words that his very own crush is telling him. For a moment his brain shortcuts and all he can do is to stare at Henry-- the way he is so wildly gesturing as the words roll off of his tongue at 100 words per second. But then Henry notices Jasper's confusion, and he stops, and he repeats himself. He is trans, too.

It ends up with the two of them having a long, long conversation about gender identity as the evening wears on. Henry tells Jasper practically everything he knows about it. He tells him how it wasn't until he started puberty that he realized that it felt wrong, but he couldn't fully transition until later on in life. Lanyon helped him with surgeries but it wasn't until he fully started playing into alchemy that he found and created potions that could help with transitions.

To make a long story short, Henry promises to help Jasper with transitions.

Maybe that's why they suddenly kept getting closer after that. They could relate to each other. Suddenly they wanted to spend more time together. Oh wow huh they are really spending a lot of time together. Wow they are sitting really close... Huh... Wow, wow, wow, Henry is certainly in Jasper's personal space... And Jasper is not pulling away...

Oh wow they smooching. So much smooching. So much smooching yet it's so soft and careful and gentle, Jasper practically melts; melts into the kiss just as much as he melts into Henry's arms.

Aight now some time for the actual relationship hcs.

Hai yes I have said this with every ship so far but consider; cuddles. Jasper is a cuddle bug, Henry craves the warmth and affection.

(Both of them can agree that their favorite cuddles are the full moon cuddles when Jasper is just. A fluffy werewolf. And Henry can bury his entire self into his fur).

Boyfriends helping each other with hormone injections? Boyfriends helping each other with hormone injections.

Sometimes Henry will be very swamped in paperwork, sometimes Jasper wants cuddles, sometimes they compromise and Jasper gets to sit on Henry's lap while he does paperwork. Sometimes Zosi or Christopher will be jealous and it will end up with them in Jasper's lap, too.

Jasper is the only one that supports Henry's obsession with wanting every pet he finds. Jasper is also Henry's alibi when a new stray animal ends up in the Society ("ahah what do you mean "new stray" that's Abby, y'know, one of Jasper's pets").

Jasper's main goal in life is to hear Henry talking in his Scottish accent as much as possible. Jasper is the only one Henry allows to hear it.

Cuddles in bed with Jasper tracing Henry's chest scars (is... Is there an actual word for those scars? Ahaha I don't know) and Henry stroking his hands over Jasper's sides, almost happy that Jasper didn't have to go through surgeries like he did.

Rachel and Robert teasing Henry for having a thing for werewolves? Rachel and Robert teasing Henry for having a thing for werewolves.

So many smooches. Henry can't keep his lips off of Jasper for more than a minute most of the time. So many hugs and so many cuddles after a long day of boring meetings and socializing. Jasper always giggles because he is super ticklish.

Henry reading a book or the newspaper on the couch, reading glasses hanging low on his nose, drinking a glass of wine with his free hand while Jasper is seated on his lap, head rested against his shoulder as he gently snoozes bc poor boy is tired <3

Henry has... Stupidly many nicknames for Jasper. "Fluffball", "Fluffpuff", "Sweetheart", "Wolfie", "My Mister", "Little Sir". He literally will come up with something on the spot and stick with it because Jasper will always giggle and blush.

Surprisingly, Henry is the clingy one. He is also the small spoon most of the time. Man is just skin and bone, he can curl up perfectly so that Jasper, i.e chubby and strong legend McGee, can hold him <3

Virginia third-wheels them a lot. It will start as her trying to have a conversation with her mentor and fellow trans legend and then they will be interrupted by a clingy (and also fellow trans legend) Jasper who came to Jekyll's office in the search for some attention and affection. It ends up with Jasper on Henry's lap while Henry continues his conversation with Virginia like nothing happened.

Jasper was the first one to get to know about Hyde. He was... Surprisingly unbothered and casual about it. That was, at least, until Hyde pinned him against a wall one night and began to flirt with him. Jasper was quite sure his face exploded with blush.

Hyde loves to tease Jasper. Henry constantly tells him off for being... Ah, well, uhm... AH... Too "flirty" with him, so to speak. Jasper has learned to turn the other way and run every time he catches the sight of blond hair or a whiff of spearmint unless he wants to get a heart attack.

Have I told you how much I love the thought of werewolf cuddles?

Also, full werewolf!Jasper basically losing his... Um, sense of awareness? Like he forgets that he is human and he often forgets who the people in his surroundings are, unlike when he was a half-werewolf and fully aware.

What I'm saying is; give me werewolf!Jasper being so incredibly curious by Henry and sniffing him everywhere, somehow opening his shirt just so he can lick his scars because the pack and mate instincts in Jasper is through the roof and his mate is hurt why is he hurt wHO HURT HIM hE SHALL HEAL HIM THROUGH THE POWER OF KISSES.

Henry kissing Jasper's snout. Henry rubbing Jasper's belly. Henry constantly praising and complimenting Jasper.

Henry always making sure Jasper knows how handsome and manly he is. Henry always making sure that Jasper has clothes that aren't torn or dirty and that are comfortable and fits well. Henry doting on Jasper.

Jasper always being there for Henry when things get rough. Jasper stating everything that he loves with Henry and kissing him on the nose when all Henry wants to do is smash his head against the desk and cry. Jasper and Henry taking care of each other <3

[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 2

part one

Summary: Shit hits the fan, and the rest of the BAU is done with it.

Word Count: 3523

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Warnings: case involving targeting gay people, brief mention of a child abduction case, coming out/anxiety of experiencing transphobia (no actual transphobia though), alcohol, swearing

@aleccolocco (sorry it took so long to finish lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, that doesn't make any sense at all, doctor!" you spat his title. "He's not jealous of these couples, killing what he can't have, or a homophobe, punishing gay people for being happy. He's putting an end to their unhappy relationships. He sees it as mercy." Over the months, your cold war with Reid turned into outright conflict, and tonight, alone in the police station in Oregon, was no exception. Hotchner had tasked the two of you with presenting the preliminary profile the next morning, and it was going as well as conversations ever went.

"We have no evidence that he knows they're unhappy, though. All of his victims are clearly happy in their relationships," Reid challenged.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Please. One look at their social media and it's obvious that the relationships are on the rocks."

"Where do you get that? All I see are typical happy relationships. Selfies, checking into special events together, posts about kind things one does for the other. Nothing indicating a troubled relationship to me."

"The gentlemen doth protest too much. They're painting an overly happy painting on social media, hoping that some of that happiness will actually become real. They're desperate for the relationship to work."

"Let's say you're right. I don't think you are, but let's pretend for the sake of trying to see your logic through. Why? Why would they be so desperate to save a failing relationship?"

"God, straight men just don't fucking get it!" You went to grab a file, missing his small flinch. "You don't understand how limited the dating pool for men who are into men is. Look at the most recent couple in particular. The most lovey-dovey on social media, and got the most brutal deaths."

"Yes, because they were the happiest. My theory holds," Reid interrupted.

"No. Look, this guy put way more out there on social media than his partner, and look at the pictures he posted. Look how forced his smile is, look at the body language. He needs this relationship to work, because dating as a gay man is one thing, dating as a gay trans man is almost impossible. Having to start over and deal with transphobia over and over again is worse than being in a bad relationship. In his eyes, I mean." Shit, the first person I come out to on this team cannot be Spencer fucking Reid. He doesn't deserve the honor.

"That was yesterday. We haven't gotten the autopsy report yet. How could you possibly know that he's trans?"

"Testosterone vials and needles in the bathroom. Neither of them are old enough for a cis man to reasonably have issues that require testosterone injections. It's HRT, hormone replacement therapy."

"Even if you're right, your conclusion still seems like a much bigger jump than mine, that the killer sees the relationships as happy and is lashing out at that, be it from jealousy or homophobia."

"Whatever. You'll see tomorrow, when we talk to the M.E., that he was trans, and that fact backs me up. I am absolutely right about this, and you will eat your words. Then I will present my theory, and you can choke on yours."

"We? You anticipate us spending more time together?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I meant 'we' as in the team, asshat. The world doesn't revolve around you. Mine sure as hell doesn't. I'm gonna go back to the hotel, write my own damn preliminary profile, and try to get some fucking sleep. Clearly we won't agree on this."

"We don't ever agree on anything," he pointed out.

"Not true. We agree that we dislike each other and can't get along. Good night, doctor." You turned and walked away, not giving him a chance to respond.

This man is going to be the death of me, he thought as he watched you walk away.

~

The autopsy report came in the next day, and you were right. The tech team also found a locked notes app on his phone that catalogued his unhappiness and fear of leaving. You presented your preliminary profile to the team. Reid didn't even argue; he just sat in silence, leaving the room as soon as you were finished. Never one to pass up a chance to gloat for beating him, you offered to get coffee for the team, got everyone's order, and left shortly behind him.

You were expecting to catch up to him, his impossibly long legs be damned. You weren't expecting him to be waiting for you. He pulled you into an empty interrogation room and pushed you up against a wall, his face just inches from yours. It was only a moment before being flustered by the closeness and those goddamn eyes were replaced by anger.

"What the FUCK, Reid?"

"What game are you playing, Y/N? What game are we playing? What's your endgame?" He spoke quickly and softly, but there was an intensity in his voice that had you captivated.

"I'm the one playing games?" You pushed him back, away from you. "You're the one who decided to hate me before we even met. When I transferred, all I wanted was to do a good job and fit in with the team. But quite literally from the minute I walked through the door, you'd decided you hate me. Turnabout is just fair play, gorgeous." Oh, fuck.

"Gorgeous?" You walked past him to the other side of the room, running a hand through your hair and turning your back on him. "Fine. Yeah, okay? I wanted approval from the brilliant and handsome Doctor Spencer Reid. In a way that's respectful of your heterosexuality, of course." You turned around and faced him again. "But that doesn't matter, because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me right off the bat."

"What makes you think I'm straight?" He's fucking with me, now that that cat is out of the bag. Great. Fucking cishet men. Even he's no different. Thank god he still thinks I'm cis.

"Garcia mentioned in her newbie-run-down that you're 'awkward, but in a cute way, especially around women'. Plus, she mentioned that Emily is bi, leaving everyone else implied straight as even the best cishet allies are wont to do. And as we both know, Penelope knows everything.

And before you make the hearsay argument I can see forming in that brilliant head of yours, I've heard and seen too much about your impeccable memory to assume you don't remember when we all went to the bar after my first case. I was unabashedly Queer, friendly flirting with Derek and calling out cishet bullshit. When I did the latter, you literally rolled your eyes and walked away. Which is, funnily enough, some cishet bullshit. 

JJ said you were just going through a thing and things would get better, but they just got worse. I'm not going to ask you to spill whatever was going on, because it's not my business, but god damn, dude. Why did you hate me so much so quickly?"

"You asked JJ about me?" He took a few steps towards you, a small smile on his face.

"That's the part you focused on? Jesus fucking Christ. Yes, I asked her about why you decided to hate me before we even met. Whatever. I hope you got whatever you were looking for by pulling me in here. I'm done. Done with this conversation, done with whatever has been going on with you and us since the day I transferred." You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm. It was barely more than a light touch, but you let it stop you.

"Y/N. I can't-" he sighed. "God, you make my head spin. I can't organize my thoughts enough to say what I want to. JJ was right, there was something I had to work through, and I guess you'd made up your mind about me before I figured it out. It isn't an excuse for how I treated you, just an explanation. As for the more recent development of arguments… I guess I read a subtext that wasn't there. I could never dislike you, let alone hate you. I am truly sorry for- for all of it." With three long strides, he was out the door.

Make his head spin? What subtext? Since when is he unable to say what's on his mind? And what was that about not disliking me? All we've done since we met is argue or ignore each other. Why else would he act like that? Why do I even care? Why am I so knotted up about what he's thinking and feeling? Whatever. Fuck him, and not in the fun way. I've gotta go get coffee for the team. As you were getting the coffee, you couldn't get the memory of his face, so close to yours, to stop playing in your head.

The rest of the case was mostly as normal, but there was an energy between you and Spencer that was distant like when you joined the team, but there was something else to it that you couldn't quite put your finger on. It made you a little bit sad, though, for reasons you didn't understand.

~

"I love you, Y/N. I love you so much. I pulled away from you because it terrified me how much I loved you from the moment you walked through the door that first day. Being around you, even when we were arguing, made me feel alive in a way I never had before. You're all I think about, you're all I could ever want. I love you."

"I… I love you too." You didn't know which one of you moved, maybe you both did, but in an instant, you were kissing Spencer Reid, and you couldn't have been happier.

-

You woke up with a start, breathing heavily. You looked around; you were in your room, home alone, and it was 3:37 am. What the hell was that?

Four hours later, you trudged through the door of the BAU office, venti red-eye in hand. You made it about ten steps before Derek had his arm around your shoulders.

"Whoa there, hot stuff. Rough night?" You tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't budge, so you just kept walking, making him go with you towards your desk.

"So not your business, Derek. You being open with your personal life doesn't mean we all have to be open like that with ours."

"Personal life, huh? So who is he? More importantly, how was he, and should we expect more mornings like this in the future?" You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. You'd reached your desk, so you sat on top of it, facing him. As you did, you made eye contact with Spencer, who was well within earshot. His face was unreadable, and you weren't sure why him hearing Morgan tease you like that upset you. It never had before.

"No, Derek. There's no one. Just some nightmares. Nothing major; I'll be fine by tomorrow." You got off your desk, sat in your chair, and logged into your laptop. Derek whistled and walked away without another word, shaking his head.

You tried to focus on the paperwork you needed to get done, but you couldn't stop thinking about that dream. The feeling of his lips on yours… it felt so real.

This is ridiculous. Love? We don't even like each other. Well… there was the stuff he was saying yesterday- 'I could never dislike you, let alone hate you', and some sort of subtext? But not disliking someone is a far cry from love. Plus, he's straight, so this is all absurd. And even if he DID have feelings for me, I sure as hell don't return them. I mean, maybe he's not as awful as I've thought, especially if he wasn't coming from a place of dislike. And he really is very pretty. Those eyes… Wait, what the fuck? This is all fucking ridiculous. I just need to get a full night's sleep tomorrow, and all this weirdness will be gone.

You took a giant gulp of your coffee, shook your head, and ran your fingers through your hair. Fortunately, Hotchner called a team meeting, forcing your attention to other things.

While no case could ever be described as 'normal', this case was pretty cut and dry, once you figured out what you were looking for. No dramatic twist, no tense showdown at his arrest. There weren't many cases like that, but you were very glad that this one was. You never sleep well when on a case, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake that dream, the butterflies it left in your stomach every time you looked at him, and the strange disappointment when, unlike before that moment in Oregon, he wasn't looking at you.

Two more weeks passed. The energy between you and Spencer, whatever force it was that had drawn you together to argue again and again, was gone. You were polite to each other, and cooperated as necessary, but didn't do more than the bare minimum when it came to interacting with each other. Your interactions were cold and low-spirited. So you were so glad for a fun night out with Penelope, Emily, and JJ.

"So, Y/N, things seem… different… between you and Spencer these days. Did something happen?" Emily's tone made it clear that the three of them had intended to bring this up long before the plan to get drinks was even made. "I appreciate y'all waiting until I had a couple of drinks in me at least before going here. I guess we just got tired of fighting? I don't know. I can't figure out what's going on in that brilliant head of his. I thought I at least knew where I stood with him, even though it was purely adversarial, but I think I was wrong. But then that leaves me with no idea what he thinks of me or why I care so damn much."

"Really? No idea at all?" JJ asked. "I remember walking by a closed door in the police station in Oregon and hearing the word 'gorgeous' being thrown around." "Oh my god. You heard that?" You buried your face in your hands, and they all laughed.

"Yeah, I did, but only that one word. I'd figured you were on the phone with someone, but then you and Spence both started acting sad. I wasn't sure, of course, that you were talking to him until just now."

"Fuck. Okay, yeah. I think he's pretty. But I'm absolutely not alone in that. Derek calls him Pretty Boy, for goodness' sake. Appreciating someone's beauty doesn't have to mean anything more."

"Y/N, really? After everything we've been through together, you're gonna lie to us like this? Whatever happened, you've both been miserable since, and it's throwing the whole team off balance."

"What do you want me to say, Penelope? That I'm in love with him? He's pretentious and a know-it-all and a nerd and funny and kind and gorgeous and oh my God. I think I'm in love with him." The three women clapped and cheered.

"Finally, you get there! Took you long enough." Emily winked. "So, what's the plan now?"

"Keep this shit between us until my feelings go away. Even if he wasn't straight, I wouldn't risk fucking things up by telling him how I felt. As it is, I stand no chance in hell, so I'm just gonna write this one off as another straight guy I've fallen for and try to move on."

"Y/N, if you tell him-" Penelope started.

"No. You, more than anyone, know why I can't even entertain the idea of trying to be with him. I can't set myself up for that kind of pain. Not here, not where things are so good." You looked at all three of them. "I know that your intentions were good, but I just can't do this. I'm sorry." You grabbed your coat and left.

Your interactions with Spencer changed yet again. Now that you knew you loved him, you couldn't help yourself from being warmer towards him. As the weeks passed, you got closer. After three weeks, you considered him to be a good friend, not that that made things any less painful. You were just hoping that Penelope, Emily, and JJ were going to respect your wishes and drop the subject of your feelings for him.

[From: Penelope]: round table room ASAP

Shit. The last time you'd gotten that text from Penelope, the team left on a serial child abduction case 30 minutes later. So, despite it being your day off, you ran out the door and were there with your go bag in 15 minutes.

But no one else was there. No files on the table, nothing to indicate that there was a new case. You pulled out your phone to call Penelope, but then you heard a commotion outside the door- you'd closed it behind you.

"No, Derek, wait, I don't-"

"Can it, Pretty Boy, and thank me later." Derek opened the door, pushed Spencer into the room, winked at you, and shut the door, all in about 3 seconds.

"Spencer. Um, hi. Is the rest of the team not going to join us? Garcia's text seemed pretty urgent." You tucked your phone into your pocket.

"I don't think so, since I just heard Morgan barricade the door." He tried to open the door and failed.

"Oh my god they're Parent Trapping us. I'm gonna kill them."

Spencer tilted his head, confused. "Parent Trapping?"

"Oh my god have you not seen any of the Parent Trap movies? Were you living under a rock in 1998?" "I was seventeen and working on my first doctorate, so pretty much, yeah," he laughed. You couldn't help but laugh, too, as you firmly ignored how his smile made you absolutely melt.

"Fair enough. The '61 one is good too, but the '98 Lindsay Lohan one is Iconic for good reason. Anyway. The point is, they've locked us in here and won't let us out until we have a conversation."

"Just a conversation? Or do they want us to talk about something in particular?" He took a seat at the table.

"I- yeah, they have a particular topic in mind. I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I was tipsy and said things I should have just kept to myself. I thought they'd respected my wishes and left well enough alone, but clearly they didn't. And they won't let us out of here until I tell you-" you hesitated.

"Tell me what?" He leaned forward, and part of you swore you saw hope in his beautiful brown eyes. You looked at the floor, avoiding them.

"Tell you that I… have feelings for you. Romantic, cheesy, butterflies-in-my-stomach feelings. I don't know why they want me to tell you this. We've just gotten to a good place as friends, and you're straight, and-"

Somehow you missed the sound of him getting up and taking the few steps over to you, because you practically jumped out of your skin when his hands were suddenly on your shoulders.

"Y/N. Please, darling, look at me?" Bewildered by the endearment, you did, and his smile was blinding. "I'm not straight. I'm bi, and I think part of me has been in love with you since your first day at the BAU. The thing JJ said I was working through? The potential problems of having feelings for a coworker. For you. As soon as you walked through that door", he pointed and then took both your hands in his, "I loved you. The night at the bar? I was rolling my eyes at myself for how much I wanted to kiss you, and I walked away to stop myself from doing something reckless. I love you, Y/N. Can I do something reckless?"

"I'm trans," you blurted. "I hope that doesn't change anything, but it's something you should know. If knowing that I'm trans changes things, now is the time for you to say something. If it's a problem and it blows up later, it might actually kill me. Because I love you, too. So much. If it doesn't change anything, then please, Spencer, kiss me."

The words were barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours. You weren't sure how long you were kissing before you were interrupted by cheers from the other side of the door. "Shit, Spencer, they're going to be the worst about this, aren't they?" You were a bit embarrassed by how breathy your voice was, but you were too happy to really care.

"Oh yeah. We're not going to get a moment that's just us in this building ever again. Do you want to get it over with and face them, or would you prefer we stay in this moment a bit longer?"

"What do you think, doctor?" you asked, pulling him in for another kiss.

[its-pronounced-quoassoint]

Power Rangers AU-Chapter 9

Pairings: romantic Logicality, Prinxiety, Demus, Remile

This Chapter features: Roman centric, brief coming out story, again another ‘filler episode’, sorry

This Chapter Warnings: swearing, talks of passive aggressive homophobia and transphobia from another character, talks of therapy and seeing a therapist, mentioned first kiss, food and eating, sympathetic dark sides

Credit for this AU goes to @when-day-met-the-knight (specifically this post).

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic please let me know in reply!

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Chapter 9-Faith

Roman would always remember his first homecoming. Logan had been his closest friend since the fifth grade, but in the few months leading up to Homecoming he had been pulling away. Roman didn't know why at the time but he was determined to get their friendship back to how it used to be by asking him to homecoming. Roman remembered it all so vividly. Logan wearing a long-sleeve pale blue dress and ankle boots. Roman wearing his favorite dress shirt and pants. The two arrived at the dance, went into the full gym, and listened to one song. Then Logan ran.

Roman was so shocked he couldn't move. He just watched Logan go. Roman looked around, worried that people could see him all alone. Then he ran after Logan, scolding himself for even thinking about other people's thoughts before Logan. He was terrified. Why had Logan been so distant? What had Roman done wrong? He thought this dance would help, but now it seemed to have backfired so bad he might lose his best friend.

When Logan returned to Roman's worried side, he was with Patton Valentine, a sweet boy who Roman had subscribed to on YouTube months back. The most surprising sight however, was that Logan and Patton, who were roughly the same size, had switched clothes. When Roman asked about the outfit swap Logan simply smiled and asked Roman to join him outside, saying a quiet goodbye to Patton. That was the night Logan had come out to Roman as trans. Then it became the night Roman came out to Logan as gay. Then the night Logan also came out as gay. Then the night they both talked about crushes without it being as awkward as before. Finally, the night they both shared a bag of microwave popcorn with Remus while they sat in the twins' treehouse and watched Star Wars Clone Wars on a portable DVD player.

Roman also knew that he would never forget his second Homecoming. Logan had decided not to go, and Roman figured he wouldn't push it. Roman actually had a boyfriend named Breyden at the time so he went with him. Roman had a good time and at first it didn't seem like that night would be all too magical. Until Breyden kissed Roman. Roman's first kiss. At a school dance, with a cute guy, and during the song 'Die Young' by Ke$ha. Roman's and Breyden's relationship lasted only a few months after that, but it wasn't a bad breakup. Roman still considered Breyden a friend and life went on.

Junior year Homecoming was the first school dance Roman didn't attend. Homecoming was mainly for the Freshmen and Sophomores, besides Roman was busy preparing for his first lead role in a musical.

Now, as a senior, Roman was spending his Homecoming night sneaking Logan into his car and driving with him and Remus to Thomas's for impromptu therapy. The three arrived at Thomas's fairly quickly, but not without Logan complaining that Roman didn't have to pick him up.

Patton was already there when they entered. He sat on the couch looking down the hallway toward's Emile and Thomas's rooms. Thomas was in the kitchen making something that was sizzling, and humming along to Wicked.

"Hey, Pat." Roman greeted him.

"Heya kiddos!" Patton smiled cheerily back.

"Whatcha makin' back there Thomathy?" Remus asked, plopping himself down practically on top of Patton and pulling out his phone.

"Quesadillas." He replied.

"Oh that sounds good." Roman said.

"Smells good too!" Remus shouted distractedly. "So is Dee here yet?"

"No, sorry." Patton shrugged.

"Hmm." Remus only looked at his phone more intently.

"What are you two?" Logan asked, taking his place next to Patton as well, though farther away that Remus was.

"What?" Remus asked, an eyebrow raised.

"You and Dee. I'm confused by the manner of your relationship." Logan began.

"We're friends. I think. Most of the time. Maybe." Remus said with a sideways glance.

"I assume you know that answer made no sense whatsoever." Logan leaned forward to look at the other boy.

Remus huffed and put his phone down. "Look, I've told him how I feel about him and he just ignored it. He wants to stay, whatever we are, and that's fine with me."

"That's bull crap Remus and you know it." Roman stated.

"Well, it's not my call Roman." Remus retorted. "I'm not gonna force him. Besides, even if he wanted to date me-"

"I'm still not convinced you two aren't dating now." Logan leaned back.

"-I wouldn't go out with him. He's still friends with Kayley and I personally want to rip out each fake eye lash and injection on her stupid face." Remus growled.

"Wow." Logan pursed his lips.

"Oh I can't stop picturing it." Roman groaned.

"How sure are you that he doesn't want to go out with you?" Patton asked.

"Pretty sure. Like I said, he ignored me earlier. And more to the point he's friends with Kayley!! She disgusts me." Remus went back to his phone. "She always goes on about how much of an ally she is! She said the A in LGBTQIA was for ally. Like bitch, no!"

"Language." Thomas and Patton said at the same time.

"I think I'm allowed to call her a bitch." Remus sneered.

"I don't like her too much either Remus, but you still shouldn't call people that." Patton said.

"Why don't you like her?" Roman asked.

"Like Remus said she talks constantly about how much of an ally she is, but when Juleka came out as a lesbian, Kayley started saying just awful things and called her slurs." Patton stated. "She kept talking about how Juleka had a crush on her and how gross it was that she's gay."

"When I began my process of coming out she pretended to support me, but when it came to actually helping me with bullying or actual transitioning, she didn't do anything." Logan added.

"What? Why didn't you say anything?" Roman asked astonished.

"Well, it didn't matter, you enjoyed sitting at her lunch table, besides it really didn't bother me as much as it may seem." Logan dismissed.

"Well shit." Roman's voice cracked. "I can't believe I let her just get away with this."

"It's not your fault Roman, it's not your responsibility to police her for her actions." Logan stated.

"But I still could have noticed. Why do I even sit with her?" Roman ran a hand through his hair and knawed on his bottom lip. He knew what Logan was saying was true, but it still didn't sit well. He was supposed to be there for protect his friends when they needed and he had let this girl get away with hurting them for too long.

"Kayley only wants to sit next to you for clout you know." Remus interjeted.

"Well I'm not sitting with her any more." Roman scoffed.

"You can sit with me." Patton suggested. "Naomi thinks you're all very entertaining."

"What are you guys talking about?" Dee's voice asked from the door, shutting down the conversation immediately.

"Nothing." The four replied, looking in different directions.

"Okay then." Dee shrugged, not sounding totally convinced. He went over the the couch and sat down next Remus.

It was quiet, though not uncomfortably so. Roman perked up when he heard a door open and close down the hallway and Emile stepped into view.

"How's this?" Emile asked, walking down the hallway. He entered the livingroom and gave a small twirl.

"I like this one a lot more." Patton told him.

"Like what a lot more?" Logan asked.

"The outfit." Patton explained. "Emile's got a date to homecoming tonight!"

"Who ya going with?" Remus asked.

"My girlfriend, Sara." Emile responded.

Everyone seemed to be looking at Emile in some form of confusion on Roman spoke up.

"Oh my god for a second there I forgot straight people exist!" He laughed. The seniors all began laughing with him.

"Ha, ha." Emile crossed his arms. "And just so you know, I'm not straight. I just don't feel like labelling myself right now."

"You shouldn't be pressured to anyway." Logan stated.

"Thank you Logan." Emile nodded. "Now! Outfit thoughts?"

"I already said I liked it. Very cute." Patton remarked.

"I have no issues with the clothing." Logan said plainly.

Roman examined what he was wearing. A shell-white dress shirt, small pink bow-tie, and black pants. Simple, comfortable, adorable; Emile.

"Very dashing." Roman told him.

"Alright by my standards." Remus shrugged.

"You have no standards." Dee pointed out. "Very nice Emile."

"Great!" Emile sighed. "Alright, have fun with therapy tonight, I'm leaving."

A series of farewells were said to Emile as he left, and the Rangers went back to silence. Thomas finished making quesadillas and began handing them out. They munched while awaiting Renette's arrival. It didn't take too long, but Roman had watched Remus practically inhale his quesadilla and he didn't need anything more. When Renette knocked and opened the door she gestured for each of them to enter a car. Roman saw she was on the phone and looked particularaly exhausted.

Roman hurried his friends out the door and into cars before they could protest his choices in seating. Patton and Logan next to each other in the first one. Remus and Dee in the next. Finally, Roman and Thomas in the last one. Roman figured his matchmaking for the night was over and hopped in happily.

Renette got into the passenger seat of the last car and looked back to smile at Roman and Thomas.

"No! Listen to me, you listen to your mother." Renette continued, signaling for the driver to start the car.

The other cars started their engines and they pulled away.

"You know what I mean when I say listen to your mother. You're not going out tonight. I don't care that it's friday. If your mom said no and your dad said no then what makes you think I'm gonna say yes?!" Renette continued. "Oh don't you 'Ma' me Remington! You've been sick for a whole week, and you know that those kids do-"

She listened to what the other person was saying.

"Well I didn't know Emile was going to be there you should have led with that! Emile going is your most valid argument so far!" Renette pasued again. "No this doesn't mean you can go! One good argument from you doesn't change my mind. Besides, your mom and dad both said no, even if I wanted you to go I'm outnumbered! Nope, I'm sorry hun but I'm not risking it! You're sick and this is Florida, people don't exactly vaccinate down here. End of discussion."

Roman looked out the window trying to make it seem like he wasn't eaves dropping.

"Yes yes, love you goodnight." Renette hung up and sighed into her chair. "Roman, if you ever want kids meet my son, he'll change that real quick."

Thomas, the driver, and Renette laughed.

"Then again, you've met Emile so you probably think kids are just little angels." Renette added.

"Oh he's certainly not a little angel." Thomas rolled his eyes. "Emile may seem like it, but I've seen him sucker punch people a few times."

"Only cause you trained him to!" Renette laughed.

It fell into a lull of discussion between the adults after that. Roman pulled out his phone and began texting Logan. Until Patton took over to text using Logan's phone. When the cars stopped it was at a building a ways outside of town. The sun was going down earlier and earlier as winter drew closer, and currently the sky was just fading into a deep blue.

Roman, Thomas, and Renette stepped out of the car. The other Rangers followed quickly and together they all went inside. It was well lit and smelled of lemon scented cleaner. Renette led them past a few doors until reaching a counter with a woman sat in front of it.

"Hey Janica, how are ya?" Renette asked.

"I'm doing good Renette. They should all be ready for you boys." Janica replied, she handed Renette a piece of paper. "I need your signature here." She pointed to a line at the top. Renette signed and Janica took the paper back, then gave Renette another paper. "These are their assigned rooms."

"Thanks Janica." Renette smiled, taking the paper and moving to enter the door right of Janica's desk.

"Oh, best of wishes to you and your family Renette. There's a little something that a few people in the department put together for you. We heard about Remy and wanted ot help." Janica smiled.

"Thanks!" Renette smiled warmly, opening the door and walking in. "Okay boys, Roman you're room one. Logan room two, Dee room three, Remus room four, Patton room five, and Thomas you know where to go."

"Thanks Renette." Thomas nodded.

Roman looked to his right and saw a stretch of doors, marked one to fifteen. He walked all the way down with the others, each friend leaving him to head into their respective doors. Roman finally reached the door with a bronze 1 nailed to the front and inhaled. He put his hand on the doornob and twisted. He felt his stomach tighten but he didn't entirely know why.

"Roman?" A sweet voice inside asked.

"Yes." Roman nodded. He looked over to see a larger woman sitting casually in a chair. The room smelled like carmel scented candles.

"Come on in." She told him. "It's okay, whatever you're comfortable with. Want some tea, coffee, water?"

"Um, no, I'm good." Roman replied, taking a seat on the grey leather couch across from her.

"Okay. My name is Doctor Faith Hop, you can call me Faith." She smiled. "Are you ready to begin?"

---

It was Tuesday the next week when Renette showed up again.

"Hopefully you all set up a schedule to meet with your therapists weekly?" She asked.

The Rangers all nodded.

"Wonderful." Renette smiled. "Now, a couple things I need to get out of the way. One, I set up a meeting with a couple friends of mine, some higher-ups in foreign governments. It's very important that you meet and discuss with them next week. Two, I need to hear any and all strategies from this moment on. Especially now. That fiasco during the last attack cannot happen again. We need results. I'd hope you all have come up with some idea as to how you can get any closer to defeating Virgilius. I want to hear everything."

"Okay, uh, Renette, what do you mean we're meeting with your friends?" Roman asked. "I don't really have a lot of time to drive somewhere like Washington D.C."

"Yeah and my moms are getting really sick of my excuses as to why I can't be home for take-out night." Dee said. "I miss eating chineese food with them."

"Don't worry about that, my friends are coming here. I cleared this with Thomas weeks in advance."

"And you're only telling us now?" Logan quirked an eyebrow.

"I could only tell you now. Anyway, you all share science class together I believe, and your teacher and our current official working at the school has agreed to give the whole grade a large group project, with which you will claim you are all working on Saturday, so you can arrive here." Renette said quickly.

Roman looked at her incredulously. "Mrs. Ryans?"

"Yes, she works for me." Renette smiled.

"She works for you?" Patton's eyes went wide.

"I believe I just said that." Renette stared.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dee put his hands up. "So you're telling me, that Mrs. Ryans works for the government and has been spying on us-"

"I certainly never said she was spying on you but yes since you've become Rangers she has been keeping a closer eye on you."

". . . Right." Dee deadpanned. "So she's making our entire grade do a group project just so we have an excuse to leave the house on Saturday?"

"That is correct." Renette nodded.

"If we're here on Saturday when are we going to work on said project?" Logan asked.

"Well that's not my problem." Renette dismissed.

"Hold up, hold up!" Roman started.

"No, no, no, no, no." Dee started waving his hand.

"Wait a minute, what?!" Patton exclaimed.

"I'm gonna fail science." Remus sank into his blow up pink chair.

"Oh you boys will figure it out." Renette tried to wave off their concerns. "What you need to focus on is the meeting with representatives from the UN who expect a level of professionalism from the only people on Earth that have acess to weapons that can defeat the Dragon Witch."

"Oh god." Roman sighed.

"I shouldn't go." Remus shook his head.

"You're all going. Whether you like it or not." Renette stated. "Now, I am hoping, praying, you boys have some kind of lead or strategy that can be used against Virgilius."

It went quiet.

"What happened to those letters you found on the map?" Thomas asked.

"Oh, yeah, that turned out to be a dead end." Roman grimaced.

"What letters?" Renette asked.

"Um, yesterday, we were looking at this map of the county." Patton got up and pointed. "Logan put pins into the places where Virgilius previously attacked. Even attacks from a year ago. Anway, we were just looking at em' and I thought these kinda make the shape of an 'H'."

"We figured he was trying to say 'help' or send a message." Dee sighed.

"And?" Renette asked impatiently.

"When we traced them all out it said 'Ha suckers!'." Roman said in an annoyed tone.

"Exclimation mark included." Logan reminded.

Remus started laughing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I mean I'm not really that sorry, but come on that's good. Like he got us."

Roman looked at his brother and just shook his head slowly.

"Clever child." Renette pondered. "Distracting you, throwing you off his scent."

"We're pretty sure he's like in his twenties." Roman said. "He's tall so."

"Yeah taller than me." Remus said, almost impressed.

"Okay, good to know." Renette nodded. "But, other than your failed attempt, do you have anything more for me?"

Roman looked around. Logan, the one who usually concocts their plans, had nothing. However, when Roman looked to the others, he saw them exchanging glances. Thomas, Remus, Dee, and Patton lookedas if they were all in silent debate with each other. Finally Thomas gave a firm nod and the four looked to Renette.

"We may have something." Patton told her.

Taglist:

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors @maddarc @pheonix-inside-reblogs @thisismysanderssidesblog @almost-all-my-ships-are-gay @mostpeopleannoyme @the-smol-est @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @nadja-chamack16@too-bi-too-function @rainbowbowtie @mistypelt1234 @tricksterangel25 @authorized-trash @echocw @stripestar128128 @coffee-mugz @slitherynchicken

[phobiadeficient]

what if.. sniperscout but both of them are trans.. thatd be superb

this is a particularly cheesy one and yknow what? that’s okay

-

He was pretty sure he was falling in love with Scout, and that was a very scary thing.

At first he admittedly looked down on Scout a little bit. Some kid, looked fresh out of high school maybe, and people that young in the professional killing line of work were usually dead stupid, and he seemed to have the boasts to match, loud and distracting on the battlefield and always laughing at high volumes in the locker rooms before and after.

Then he found out one day, late, the team gathered around a bonfire that Pyro and the Engineer had scraped together, low over a bottle of beer, that Scout was only a handful of years younger than him, about the same age Sniper had started at. Found out about a mother who was working two jobs and starting to go on sixty, and brothers desperately trying to both support their families and get help with the nightmares that had followed them home from war. About his first stints with crime, a last resort when nobody would hire him because he had a diploma but couldn’t seem to get a good score on any literacy tests. About a police record a mile long and taking an offer to go out into the desert to die over and over again because apparently, blokes like him “didn’t do well in prison”.

For a while, Sniper thought he said that because he was a bit on the scrawny side. Then one day in the locker rooms, Scout passed by him in a towel, having forgotten to take off his grip tape before trying to shower, and he had it wrapped up over his chest rather than around his waist, and a few things clicked.

It came up eventually, although he couldn’t remember how. It was just the two of them leaned up against one of the buildings and trying to eat lunch as quick as they could before battle got called again, talking quietly. Scout had gotten top surgery it turned out, at the same time Medic had to cut into him anyways, but wasn’t much a fan of needles and so wasn’t on to that part yet, was waiting for Medic to finish up working on some alternative method. Sniper hadn’t gotten any kind of surgery yet—maybe couldn’t, maybe wouldn’t, maybe he was just scared, but it didn’t really matter—and had been on a steady injection schedule for almost four years. Scout admitted that he was a little jealous. Sniper admitted that he was too.

They talked a lot about it. Scout informed him a month or two into their odd friendship that Sniper was the only person on the base that he felt like he could really talk to. Pyro still unnerved him a little sometimes, and Medic knew but didn’t exactly know how to talk about things in a sensitive manner, and he wasn’t brave enough to try to bring it up with any of the other mercs. Sniper sympathized. When Scout finally found out that he would be put on hormones, he practically broke Sniper’s door down in his haste to come tell him, and Sniper declared that they would be celebrating.

The whiskey disappeared quick, and so did their fears and nerves, and that was the same night that Scout made a move on him.

It wasn’t something as drastic as a kiss. It was first and foremost Scout holding his hand, looking at him with a flushed face and contented smile. Then Sniper had smiled back, and Scout had lifted Sniper’s hand up to his own face and kissed at his knuckles, carefully, gingerly, as if half convinced that Sniper would snatch his hand away and whack Scout over the head for the infraction. But he didn’t.

The next morning, they had the uncomfortable conversation about what they were and what they would tell people. Sniper walked away satisfied and just a little bit giddy.

They took things slow—more specifically, Scout took things slow, for Sniper’s sake. They mapped out what they each liked, first in terms of affection, then physical affection, then kissing, then in the bedroom. Scout was mind-blowingly patient with him, with the fact that for a long time Sniper wasn’t sure he’d be comfortable going any further than kissing and feeling at each other over their clothes.

They eventually made a leap, Sniper getting Scout off in Scout’s room, lights off and shades drawn so that there was only barely enough light to see and operate by. And once he’d managed that once and twice, once he was sure he wasn’t going to freak out the first time he got in bed with someone else in years—the very first time doing so dead sober and with someone he’d ever see again—it was only a short while of hesitation before he allowed Scout to do the same with him.

A year into their relationship—two months after finally telling a few members of the team, a week or two since the final teammate found out—he wasn’t nervous at all anymore. He was more comfortable with Scout than he’d maybe ever been with anyone else in his life. Because Scout understood—over empathy, over sympathy, he really truly just understood.

And it was nice. And it was scary. He wasn’t used to people understanding him. He wasn’t used to being able to pause to search for a specific word and having it supplied to him within a second or two. He wasn’t used to being able to start saying a thought or idea and having someone else say the other half to him with a nod, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

One of these days, Scout was going to pull him apart at the seams, and Sniper would let him. Wouldn’t even ask questions, probably. And maybe that wasn’t the same thing as love, maybe that was something else, but love was the only word Sniper could think of for it.

He ended up saying it first, which surprised both of them. But it just sort of slipped out, and once it did, he couldn’t seem to make himself regret it.

He’d found that he had this sort of game he liked to play with Scout. Where he’d hook on one of his more standard straps and Scout would ride him, and Sniper would see how long he could make Scout do all the work, see who got desperate and broke first. Usually it was Scout, with the one he’d picked for that particular night especially, but depending on how things went, whether Scout did all of the lovely little things that secretly drove Sniper absolutely bonkers, sometimes he ended up breaking first.

And he was really starting to get there. Biting his lip with those big teeth of his until it was red and swollen to try and hold back his noises, most of them rising out of his chest anyways, and moving at such a speed up and down that his tags swung against his chest, and raking a hand up through his sweaty bangs to get them out of his face, eyes peeking open to look down at Sniper, and god, the sight of him. And he rolled his hips just right, and it put a very pleasant pressure against his crotch that got him to release a shuddery little breath, and Scout smirked, so satisfied, so pleased with himself.

God.

He slid an arm around Scout’s waist, bent one knee. Started rocking—not thrusting, not quite, but when it paired with the way Scout was moving it made his pitch rise and his gasping speed up, and gave Sniper some nice sensations as well to boot, almost nice enough to convince him for a moment—

It was hard to explain, but he didn’t ever really need to, not with Scout, and that punched him in the chest just as hard as it always did, and words trailed the exhale.

“Fuckin’ love you,” he groaned, and Scout made a shaky noise. And he looked up when he realized he’d said it out loud, and Scout was staring, wide-eyed now.

And then Scout was lunging forward, mashing their lips together and redoubling his pace, moving fast and desperate, and Sniper finally started participating in a real way, bucking hard to the rhythm Scout set.

When Scout was done—twice, he was fairly sure, he thought it was something like twice, but his head was on crooked all of a sudden—he allowed them both to rest for a moment, pulling back enough to pant, open-mouthed against Scout’s throat.

Scout had a hand resting on his chest, trying to feel for something. He didn’t know what, for a few seconds, then he realized it was just under his left shoulder, where his heartbeat was probably hammering, even through a thick binder.

“Do you really?” Scout asked, voice very small, very nervous.

“Yeah,” Sniper admitted quietly.

“Oh thank fucking god,” Scout exhaled, a sigh of relief, and it startled a laugh out of Sniper. “That would’ve been the meanest prank ever, man. Jesus. And I uh, I love you too. Like, duh.”

“Duh?” Sniper repeated, laughed a little.

“You heard me,” Scout said haughtily, confidence flooding back into place as he got his breath back. Sniper laughed some more, and Scout made a noise, shifting. “Fuck, s-stop doin’ that, too sensitive—“

“Then get off,” Sniper chided, rolled his eyes.

“I don’t wanna.”

“Then stop complaining,” Sniper said next, pinched him on the side. “Christ. Prick.”

“The prick you’re in love with,” Scout sing-songed, pinching Sniper right back and grinning.

“You don’t get to tease me over saying I love you when you said it back,” Sniper deadpanned.

“Can and will.”

“Right, I take it back,” Sniper said, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling and ignoring Scout completely.

“Aw, c’mon! I’m kidding!” Scout insisted, sitting up on his knees to disconnect then curling up to Sniper’s chest. “Babe. I’m kidding. I love you. C’mon.”

“You’re going to use that every time I’m angry with you starting now, aren’t you?” Sniper asked, a little annoyed with the way his heart fluttered at the words.

“Depends if it works,” Scout shrugged, and made a kissy-face at Sniper expectantly.

For about ten seconds, restraint. Then he sighed heavily and leaned in to close the gap, kissing Scout with an amount of force that declared he was not kissing Scout because he asked him to, he was kissing Scout because he wanted to, thank you very much.

The smirk on Scout’s face told him that he didn’t believe it for a second.

[lost-in-transition]

short story: deathclocked

CN: This is something new for the blog, a piece of actual fiction. I was inspired. I am not actually a blonde ex-Polish trans hitwoman.

*

I strike at his throat with knuckled fist. I move the arm up to block, programming the motion before even it has a chance to happen. I'll also step aside and put my knee between his legs. Then either head butt him or bring my elbow down in his face. I don't know yet. As a child, I never ever fought. The thought of striking back was worse. It would have made me like them, and even then I knew I feared that. Better to run away, or else to let them. They wanted me to strike back, I know that now. If I had, they would have known I was like them, and we would have been friends. And I would have been something worse than being the nothing that I was. In a sense, they were so persistent because they were concerned for me, and perhaps scared as well - my existence as an oddity raised the potential things could have been different for them, too. We all fear the thought we might not be who and what we need to be, and it drives hatred of the strange all too often.

Ironic then that now I fight so effortlessly. It does not feel like aggression. It feels like stretching out. It feels like singing out loud. I miss that very much, but as time went by, it became less and less comfortable to hear myself, especially resonating in skull. Practicing martial arts, any kind, feels freeing. I feel present and moving and unbound by everything else. I decide my movement beforehand and execute it. If I am struck, I will be hurt, and accepting that makes it something I am not afraid of. In the training ring I don't feel or express anger, and my training mates accept that. When I fight for real, like now, they don't expect me to strike. In some ways, that is the point. It is because they don't expect it that I feel at peace being the one initiating. And ending it.

The man in front of me, I think of him as Boss Man, he wears sports gear slick enough for clubbing and laid back enough no-one will think he is gay or anything. God forbid. Sweatpants showing boxers. Tattoos, expensive wrist watch. He didn't have to queue to get into this club, which already sets him apart from 999 of 1000 people anywhere. There are several ways in which each of us stand out so. He and I share some, including, for me in recent years at least, spending significant time in the company of organized criminals. Boss Man is a criminal organizer, and I can only imagine this is why he passed the doorman directly whereas I stood in line. This place started as a gay club and in many ways still is, men give each other blow jobs among the smoky labyrinths that are the chill out area, the beat of a DJ I don't recognize but do like there in the background like a storm. Boss Man is the type of the leather bear doorman no more than I am in my skimpy sundress, but either he has the money or the fear capital from being a known gang leader that he gets in anyway. Even so, he still passes through the coat check, which means he has no weapon tonight and no body armour. Otherwise typically he does, and this is why I planned to take him down in here tonight. I too am unarmed, but as I now set out to demonstrate, this need not mean much.

I got close enough in the otherwise empty passage, so that first strike goes fine. He staggers, but he's been boxing; now he goes back and into something like stance. He'll strike next. Or will he? He backs up and stares at me. I followed him in here, when he was going to snort or inject I assume, or make a phone call. But when I did, he leered at me, smiling as I approached. Maybe he had not expected to, but he was fine with it, up until the point where I struck. There's enough of a code that he saw my following him as safe. It's what a girl would do if she was aware of his status and wanted him to share something of his - drugs, kisses, cock, recognition in some circles, though I don't know exactly which one. This city has several separate gang environments and they are not all hanging out. "My" criminals are part of other networks than his are. More to the point, "my" criminals live in little circles of salt surrounding a few people who also post on TOR-accessible truly anonymous forums.

Boss Man is an awful person. I know this because I read some of the police reports on things that happened with some girls who spent some time with him. None went to trial, and a few years back they stopped coming because none of them would risk filing one. This isn't why I'm here seeking him out. I'm not a vigilante, I just checked that before I decided to pursue the contract on him. Back in the old days, there were brokers who could connect clients and contract killers anonymously, for a cut. Apparently. They still exist, now they too are on the dark net. It works like a betting service, using crypto currencies and everything. Someone puts out a contract on a mark by anonymously depositing the prize with the broker. The broker verifies the money is legit and makes a bet on when the mark will die. Whoever comes closest wins the money, also anonymously. In theory someone could "kill steal" if they witness a contract killing, but the system works well enough. I was spending a lot of time on the dark web.

This also means that in principle a mark can know there's a contract on them. But in reality, most people where some shadowy figure want them dead will be just like Boss Man, a career criminal who is not all that computer savvy but rather very invested in his offline social network. I have no idea who wants him dead, I just looked into him enough to see if it was at all possible, and also on whether he has any redeeming traits that would make me feel guilty for it. I've cashed in contracts on people who were not gangsters too, some domestic abusers mostly. Still no idea on the client. Boss Man is just always paranoid, when on the streets he has a gun. His driver keeps that for him now I guess. If I guess closest for when he's dead, that's about 40K worth of bitcoins. The call was out for six months already. So either there aren't so many assassins around who'd take it, or some did and failed for whatever reason. I've tried and given up with several marks, sometimes others got them later. No idea on which other, either. I don't think I know any other contract killers, but then again, would I even know?

The thought strikes me that I should make a smartwatch app that bets on my time of death should my pulse stop, in case I find anyone contracting me. That way at least my death can be my own kill. But honestly, if my actual identity ended up there, something already is wrong. No one should know who I am. Heh. They'd have to use my deadname, since the road to a legal name change in my country of citizenship is... long. How fucking appropriate. Ha ha. Like cancer, fun for the whole family. I literally would have to sue my parents, which means I'd have to meet them again. It's been seven years now. They're still around in Krakow, I know, and my little brother hasn't moved out yet. He and I still talk every now and then. I wonder how he's going to make it.

Boss Man isn't going to shout, is he? Not that it makes all that much difference in this loud environment. No. He needs to do this himself or he'll lose face. He stares at me incredulously, already pretty coked up I guess, and leaps at me, all 95 kilo of muscle and bone and Axe bodyspray. I'm in the motion, I sidestep and rotate. Detachedly, I wonder again what precisely is wrong with me. I don't think I'm a sociopath. Is that even possible for me? If I were then surely I wouldn't have all these social anxieties, or feelings of inadequacy, and I wouldn't end up crying over youtube clips where little ugly fruits find other little ugly fruit friends. I do have empathy, for all that everyone tried to grind it out of me, growing up. I couldn't cry for years and years, it took me doubling the recommended dosage to get there finally. Now, it's not so much a matter on if something will make me cry, but when. I used to simply be unable. Now I cannot decide the "if", but I can delay it if I have to. There has to be something that I'm processing here though, it can't be just for the money. Maybe I'm processing my feelings of being an outsider by ensuring I must always be, that there is (yet another?) thing in my life that no-one ever will understand? Some sort of reaction formation? Or am I an adrenaline junkie?

"What the... fucking bitch! Fucking cunt!" he exclaims, slamming against the wall. I swing my fist at the back of Boss Man's head but he's already turned back and lifted a meaty arm for blocking. He has a tattoo of an eagle. He's in stance now. No more surprises.

He stares at me. With a sickening dread my guts recognize that look before my brain does. I shiver. He blinks. "What the fuck? You're a fucking man in a dress? A fucking tranny faggot?" Boss Man laughs. "That's why you fight like that. No fucking real girl could land a hit like that on me! Fuck! I can see it now, look at you, full of makeup and shit. But you've got balls, right? Show me you've got balls, man!" He takes fighting stance again, like he's challenging me. He smiles like a maniac. I'm staggering. It's like I'm split in two pictures like with those old 3D images, floating in different directions, none of them me. I can't sense my body, but it's like I see it from the outside. Tall, flat-chested. Tuck isn't perfect, is it? And I'm blonde, so plenty of electrolysis left before any kind of smoothness. Would any cis woman do contract killings like this? He's implying that, isn't he? That only someone incurably steeped in toxic masculinity would be a... a... hitman.

This is so dangerous, I know it. It feels like those times after meeting that support group when I couldn't stop idly thinking as the train approached the platform that it would be so easy to solve everything by just stepping in front. One part of me is deep in, one is detached. Neither really cares how this goes, right now. Am I angry with him? No way to tell. The important thing is, how dangerous to my beliefs about my identity are these implications? And are those just beliefs? He clocked me in a dark club corridor without me even speaking, so that horrible voice I have isn't it. What's wrong with me? I feel like I'm already dead. A waterlogged corpse having rotted, the bones move through soft flesh-mud. I freeze.

Boss man knocks me over and I feel a sharp pain as I hit the floor. Only luck it was not head first. Then again, if that damn head with it's fucking brow ridge and big nose cracked like a melon, then it would be over. He's on top of me. "What the fuck is this about, you little faggot? Huh? Did you really think you could fool me, you fucking ugly little cocksucker bitch?" I know it's over. I won't have to worry again on whether I'm actually just a sad, misandrist failure of a man, someone who still ticks off all the boxes of male stereotype and socialization. It'll be like with the train. Eventually it will all be over. Pain for a while. But only one outcome. It will be over.

He puts his hand on my left breast and there's another look of surprise on his face. Then his mouth is at the side of my neck. I feel rough, raspy stubble and smell the sour musk of his sweat and breath. He bites my neck hard and grunts. I feel his cock quickly growing hard against my thigh. Another rough hand moves up my thigh. He has to make sure now. The smell, I can't let it go. I remember my old training clothes. Four years ago? Before HRT. I used to smell like this. There is sausage on his breath, and beer. The stubble. When my hands had eczemas because I didn't moisturize, and they itched, I would scratch them against the stubble of the cheek of the body that I was in. The skin would eventually blister and bleed and get sticky, and it would hurt more and longer.

That's not me anymore.

That's who he is. I'm different. I always was. That never was me. That surface was no-one. I'm the will to motion. I'm the choice I made. I am me.

Boss Man isn't holding my hands in place because he's too busy groping at my tuck. So I press them against the veins at the side of the neck, holding and twisting as if I was opening a jar of pickles. I hear his neck snap, and slowly he goes limp on top of me. My head is spinning and for a moment I forget who I am, where I am, what I am. There is only the naked tube lights of the ceiling high above and the graffiti on the concrete walls. My back hurts.

I turn to get him off me. I squeeze his neck again to be sure, check the pupils. I kick Boss Man in the side of the head, first gingerly, carefully. Then again, harder. Again. A dozen times, with the hard toes of my pumps. I take out the phone, choose the camera settings to ensure there is a time stamp watermark as well as a GPS watermark. Then I remember. I have to remove the little coloured sticker they put over the camera lenses on your phone in this club. Check. Filter settings. Check. I upload an image of Boss Man's vacant gaze as he lies there to the server, through the TOR client app. It's done.

I hurry down to the bathroom, one floor down. I shy away from the mirror image because I can already guess what it would show, and I go in to hide in a stall. I lock the door carefully. Then I let the tears come.