FIRST OF ALL HAPPIEST 24TH BIRTHDAY TO OUR DEAREST SNUGGLIEST BUNNY.
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So coming to the story, Type is on periods. *yes again, I know I am hopeless*
And here rather than figuring out the entire tedious anatomy ... you might as well believe he is a trans-man, as simple as that, isn't it?
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"...these are the revenue statistics for the next six months and with this, I would like to wrap up this presentation. Hope this cleared any remaining questions in your mind. And as ever your suggestions are always welcomed. thank you" every word strained to make its way out through type's lips.
I'll rip you apart with my bare hands if you ask even a single question motherfuckers.
Discomfort! Downright discomfort! Fucking hell!
Type alone knew how he had retained his composure with the advent of uninvited, untimely, excruciating cramps in his belly, in the middle of the formerly nonviolent presentation. He was the V.P of the sales department and that was the only best part in the situation where he had agreed to give the presentation amidst his colleagues and seniors.
This time his period had arrived without any tell-tales, not even that discharge. the blazer must perhaps have been capable enough for him to be at rest at least regarding staining. but the cramps, they were getting unbearable with every passing minute. His lower abdomen and back were attacking him mercilessly, his thighs felt high on lactic acid and his knees could give up any moment. even still the most blatant of them all was his uterus, damn that thing, it was testing his tolerance and patience both.
Fucking stop being rickety type!
It had now gotten almost unfeasible to mask his darkening frowns when those certain screeching jolts of sting assaulted from different angles.
The CEO, on the other hand, had been noticing it all. Rather than listening to the words of work, he just kept analyzing the gestures and expressions that unfolded on Type's face. Thara kirigun bent his features along type. He was dawned by trepidation since type looked as though he was using up all his might to hold back a petulant face. Type was an asset to the company, he was indubitably conscientious, there must have been something serious according to tharn that had started to coat type in an unprofessional hue. He was so absorbed in brooding about the V.P that he had to be nudged by one of the board members to bang his palms together at the end of the meeting.
