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#sent : 3-2-2024
pastadoughie · 1 month
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what is the absolute most legendary most mythical most specialest itty you know of and is said itty still susceptible to chronic eepy
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yeahg :3
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girlcrushau · 2 months
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#me? about to use tumblr as a diary again? in 2024? unfortunately:/#but here have a waterfall i saw on a hike last week as payment#i am sO tired and exhausted emotionally after dating#there's this guy that i fr thought was going to last and be around for a long time. we spent like every moment together that we could for 2#months straight and if we werent physicaly together we were texting or calling or on ft . just every part of our day had the other in it#not once did i ever feel unwanted undesired or uncared for. not once did i feel that i wasnt sure of his intentions. i felt safer with him#in those 2 months than i ever did with any one else i could think to compare to.#until one day he just didnt think it important to communicate any more. after 3 days of nearly nothing .. hardly any talking . i asked if#he was ok if we were ok. what was going on in his head. he said some ive just been with my buddies and family and havent been on my phone#and just. immediately thats heartbreak yanno. thats :// thats what they say when theres a new girl. but there'd never been a reason to think#there was another girl so i was like ok we're gonna trust bc this dude has been So good in every way. so i said imy but i understand. enjoy#your time with your buddies and with your fam -- i cant wait to hear about it (and hold you)#and i havent heard from him in the 3 weeks since. just randomly#so last night#i send the dreaded 'i miss you' text.#i dont expect to hear back and i accept the hurt that will come with that and the confusion that i've felt settles deeper into my heart#until this afternoon i hop on ig and see a hard launch that was posted an hour after my text was sent#that shit kinda hurt different. but also sent me into a bit of a delirious state where all i could do is laugh bc are you for fucking real#did she see my message? i know it. bc i know him and i know that he wouldnt hide anything from the person he's giving his heart#and his softness to. i can almost imagine how he showed her and promised her theres nothing to worry about#and there really isnt anything to worry about because he genuinely is the type to give his all to the relationship he's in#which feels silly to say after what happened w us. like no there wasnt a title ever#it sucks to call it a situationship because a month ago we were laughing in bed together about how we could never bc we were all in.#just the timing of the hard launch makes me giggle. did my text push them to have a conversation about what they are. was she really the#reason that he went away on me.#im trying not to blame myself . trying not to think about the phone calls i didnt answer. about what i could have done differently. trying#not to think about where we would be if i didnt let my anxieties hold me back. if i wasnt scared about what he'd think of the parts of me#that i keep hidden just a little bit longer than the rest.#and at the same time im trying not to put him on a pedestal. but that pedestal is just where i wholeheartedly believe he belongs#he set the bar for me. he set the standard. i was never too much. i was never too little. he made me feel perfect just as i am
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redgoldsparks · 10 days
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My Experience Buying eSIMs for Gaza by Maia Kobabe
instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books
Full transcript below the cut:
Cover:
My Experience Buying eSIMs for Gaza 
Project organized by @ connectinghumanity_
by Maia Kobabe @redgoldsparks 
Page 1 
In Fall 2023, I saw instructions on instagram for how to purchase an eSIM card and submit it to be distributed to someone in Gaza. 
Download an eSIM app-> Select Middle East as the region-> Purchase-> Screenshot the QR code-> Do not activate-> send to [email protected] 
Image of Maia looking at eir phone. “That sounds easy, I’ll buy one.” 
I emailed an Airalo eSIM QR code to gazaesims on Nov 17 2023. 
Page 2
By January 2024, it hadn’t been activated yet. I bought a second one from Nomad and sent my new QR code and resubmitted my old one. 
Image of Maia looking at eir phone. “How long does this usually take, I wonder?” 
By February neither had been activated, but Connecting Humanity kept posting about needing more. I bought a second Nomad and resubmitted all of them on February 15, 2024. 
Page 3
The Nomad eSIMs are much cheaper than Airalo, but what I didn’t realize is that they expire even if they haven’t been activated. At the end of February I decided to try a third company, Simly. Here’s a price comparison: 
AIRALO: $39 USD for 3GB, never expires 
SIMLY: $22 USD for 3GB, never expires 
NOMAD: $16 USD for 3GB, expires after 8 weeks even if unused, only offers in-app refunds 
Page 4
Connecting Humanity asks folks to wait at least 3 weeks before resending a QR code that hasn’t been activated yet. On March 7 Mirna Elhelbawi posted: 
We send EVERY esim we receive. Bear in  mind that we are dealing with people at a war zone. They might take it and get killed before activating it, they might take it and their phone gets lost or destroyed. They might take it and search for days for stable internet connection to activate it, and some of them activate it unsuccessfully due to lack of knowledge and the horrific situations they are in. ~Connecting Gaza 
By early April, my first Nomad eSIM expired unused. I resubmitted my three remaining eSIMs. 
Page 5
Suddenly, two of my eSIMs were activated on the same day! The Airalo I’d purchased 4.5 months earlier and my second Nomad. 
Image of Maia looking happy and surprised. 
Image of Maia looking very intensely at eir phone. “I have to make sure these don’t run out!” 
I began buying top-up packages immediately. 
Page 6
I felt like I had planted a seed in the fall and waited all winter for it to sprout. Seeing it activated was like watching the first new leaves break the soil. 
Image of Maia with a watering can labeled “data”, sprinkling water on two little sprouts. “Watering my eSIMs!” 
Sadly, only .07 GB of data was ever used on my Nomad. It was never used again after that first day. 
Page 7
But my Airalo has been in constant use for over a month now. I check on it every day. 
I will never know the person I am buying data for and they will never know me. But we are connected by the same strings of hope and grief that connect us all. 
Image of two hands holding a phone, which is connected to a flying kite. 
Page 8
On April 5, 2024 Connecting Humanity reported they had sent more than 250,000 eSIMs to Gaza, equivalent to approximately $6.3 million donated! You can visit gazaesims.com for more info, instructions, and discounts. Here are my referral codes: 
MAIA5367 for $3 off Airalo 
MB772 for $3 off Simly 
MAIA66GF for $3 off Nomad 
If you need more incentive, the Cartoonist Coop is doing art rewards. Visit cartoonist.coop/esims4gaza 
Page 9
Image of Maia, weighing two options. “Buying an eSIM is easy and can make a very direct impact. It can also take a lot of patience and could get expensive over time if you commit to keeping the eSIM topped up indefinitely.” 
If an immediate one time donation is more your speed, I recommend Operation Olive Branch and Gazafunds, two places to find Gofundmes aiding Palestinian families. 
gazafunds.com
@ operationolivebranch on insta
linktr.ee/opolivebranch 
-Maia Kobabe 2024 
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pseudowho · 1 month
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Nanami Kento Masterlist
REQUESTS CLOSED!
Updated: 19th May 2024
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🔥 Smut 💔 Angst 💕 Romance
☕ Comfort/Fluff 🤡 Clowning
🐙 Monsterfucking 📚 Education (*dirty laugh*)
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1st of December 🔥☕💕 -- No-Nut November is over-- but Nanami Kento won't let you get away with it that easily.
7:3 🤡 -- Nanami Kento never thought about his 7:3 pattern...a fourth wall breaking moment.
BabywearingDad!Nanami" Ask and Drabble ☕
"Dad Reflexes" Ask and Drabble 🤡💕☕-- Nanami Kento can catch anything.
Daylight Robbery 💕☕🔥-- when Gojo asks Nanami to cuckold him and his fiancée, things don't go the way Gojo planned...
Debellatio 🔥💕-- a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma sex-pollen threesome.
Deliverance 💕🔥-- with Vampire!Priest!Nanami
Ditch the Party 🔥💕-- Nanami Kento hates parties. But the drinks? The drinks make him bold.
Domain Expansion theory-- Pseudowho's vision of Nanami Kento's domain expansion.
Domestic Bliss series 💕☕--
#1 Rant #2 Indentured Servitude #3 Car Repairs #4 Laundry #5 Foodie
Edging Nanami Kento 🔥💕-- The reader drives Nanami Kento to the edge and back again.
Fire and Iron 💕☕🔥-- AU!Nanami Kento is the town blacksmith, and the reader is forced to stay the night after tending to his wounds.
Full 🔥☕💕-- Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.
Glory Glory 🔥☕💕-- "Help, I'm stuck!" on a mission with Kento, and he takes full advantage of the compromising position.
Good Boy 🔥💕-- after a bad day, you know exactly what Kento needs to help him relax...
Good Girl 💕🤡 -- a drabble
Grandpapamin ☕💕-- Nanami Kento as a grandfather, Headcanons.
Grey 🔥💔💕-- The reader lives a vigilante life; so does Nanami Kento, a changed man after the events of Shibuya. When she is sent to hunt him down, Nanami Kento has a proposition for her.
Grey! Nanami Headcanons Part One ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader headcanons.
Grey! Nanami Headcanons Part Two ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader headcanons.
Grey! Nanami Christmas ⛄🎄 Headcanons ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader Headcanons.
Hanahaki 💕☕💔-- being in love with you is killing Nanami Kento.
Hide and Seek 🔥-- Game night gets spicy.
"How well can you drive?" 🔥 -- the reader takes matters into her own mouth so Kento can prove his driving skills.
Infiltration (MULTI-CHAPTER) 🔥☕💔💕
(COMPLETE!) --the reader and Nanami Kento must pretend to be married, infiltrating a Curse-user cult to take it down from the inside.
Chapter One: Introduction
Chapter Two: Pillow Talk
Chapter Three: Deadly Games
Chapter Four: The Rumbling Shrine
Chapter Five: Breaking Point
Chapter Six: Exposed
Chapter Seven: The Captive Goddess
Chapter Eight: Unchained
In From the Cold ☕🔥💕-- The reader wanders in the snow, lost and injured after a mission gone wrong; will Nanami Kento save her?
Kento Comes Home Drunk 🔥💕-- and the reader handles his advances like a total champ.
And, its sequel... Reader Comes Home Drunk 🔥 💕-- where Kento manages the reader's advances like an absolute champ.
Kingsman!AU Nanami/Galahad 🔥💕☕
Knismolagnia 🔥💕-- Kento has a somewhat...erotic response to being tickled.
Last Moments 💔☕-- Nanami Kento remembers a childhood holiday.
Nanami Kento, and the Curses of an Unusual Nature (MULTI-CHAPTER) -- Nanami Kento is deemed the only Sorcerer sensible enough to handle some frankly weird Curses
- Chapter 1: Gone Shopping 🤡 -- locals are going missing at a large shopping centre; Nanami Kento is sent to investigate.
Nanami Kento's Massive Squeezable Man Tiddies 🔥☕-- the reader being casually obsessed with Kento's chest...repost link HERE!
Operation Babymaker (a new series!) 💕💔🔥☕ -- Nanami Kento takes trying for a baby very seriously indeed.
A Trip to the Tailors-- the reader reveals she's been off the pill for months, and Kento cannot contain himself.
Benchpress-- the reader interrupts Kento's workout, and is manhandled into submission.
Ditch the Party...again-- tipsy Kento is back, and deadlier than ever.
Wet Dreams-- Kento gives the reader a free-pass for when he's asleep...and he returns the favour.
Honeytrap/Maid Café-- you are sent to honeytrap a Curse-user on ovulation night...and Kento hunts you down to a Maid Café.
Papamin's Big Day ☕-- Nanami Kento takes his baby for her first vaccinations, and finds it...emotional.
Raising You ☕💔💕-- When the reader is de-aged by a Curse, Nanami is forced to raise her like a daughter.
Red 🔥💔-- Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse-user, has been on the run for years...what will you do when he catches up to you?
Resolute ☕💔💕-- The reader helps Nanami to accept that he has a drinking problem.
Seasons of Grief 🔥💔💕☕ -- The reader supports Nanami Kento through the anniversary of Yuu Haibara's death, and afterwards, when Kento nearly loses the reader
Shirtsleeves 🔥 -- The reader steals Kento's last shirt, and receives her comeuppance.
Still Got It ☕💕-- The Nanami kids' parents are boring...right?
Stoic 💕🔥-- Kento is furious when Gojo assumes that his lack of PDA towards the reader shows a lack of desire.
The Accumulation of Little Despairs ☕💔💕 -- The reader struggles with low-mood; Nanami Kento comes to the rescue
The Chase 🔥💕-- The reader has insisted on No-Nut November; Nanami Kento gets his revenge by hunting her down and taking his reward.
The Silent Stars Go By 🔥💕☕-- Shibuya Ending Rewrite! Nanami Kento feels his death approaching...but he beats fate, when he tracks you down to confess his love for you.
The Wristwatch 💕☕-- How does Nanami Kento make sure everyone (including you) knows you're his girl?
The Wrong Tie 🔥-- Nanami x Reader AND Higuruma x Reader...Nanami and Higuruma make a mistake after fucking their wives in the same cupboard.
Why I love Nanami Kento
Yet Another Sex Pollen Fic, PART ONE 🔥💕
And...PART TWO 🔥💕 -- the reader has a problem... and only Nanami Kento can help her scratch the itch.
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hiveswap · 4 months
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Summary of The Cat of The Year poll atrocities of 2023/2024
I'm sure that most people on this side of tumblr have seen the Jellie vs. Nefarious Anglerfish poll going around with like 60k votes at this point, and I'd really like clear up some of what happened since I was around for the whole thing.
Url blocked out for op's privacy. They have already left but don't look for it if you haven't seen it/don't harrass them if you already have.
1. The previous round (preparation)
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I discovered the poll in its previous round, needless to say she beat Jort's ass severely. This was around the 3rd of january, meaning that this round finished before jellie's passing with only about 7k votes. Op did add their own piece of propaganda from their main:
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...which was FINE. (except for stuff we'll see later) Of course running a poll while biased isn't ideal but I for one didn't even know they were the op until much later. I also added my own piece in a separate thread, and they didn't interact with it at all. There was no drama.
2. The Finale
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Jellie unfortunately passed away right before the starting of this poll, which was the catalyst for what happened next. Op did exactly as last time and added a slightly more mean spirited encouragement to vote for the other contestant. This is the point where I believe that i fucked up personally.
I added this thinkpiece accusing op of associating all mcyters with Dream (who we all hate for the record) despite them not alluding to him at all. This is because tumblr has a history of disimissing all mcyters as... everything that dream was been accused of. Op did allude to not caring for mcyt. but they didn't say what i accused them of. This is important to point out because this reblog of mine is still being spread. Jellie was in the lead at the time, but not by the time i woke up next morning.
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I won't be including anyone else's additions because I don't want to put blame on any specific person. Just felt like clearing up mine.
3. The Fuckening
Some time later op made this post to their personal blog:
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which is insanely shitty because, as other people have pointed out, the "lame ass youtube cat" didn't die to inconvinience op or ruin their fun, and people would have probably voted for her anyway because jelly is universally beloved in the mcyt community. This isn't anti democratic. This post was added to the poll with a caption saying op should not be running this poll, and it took off. Op later went on to say that this was a joke:
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This apology was not taken well by people, (including me) because "you were not meant to see it" isn't an apology and they still very much made fun of someone's pet dying. Safe to say this did not make the drama stop and only added fuel to the flame. I believe this was the point where the conversation of mcyt fans being unjustly sent hate to was reignited.
We should discuss that! it's a real thing that happens often and is equal to childish bullying. However, in this case, OP was the only one getting sent hate to my knowledge. The notes were mostly saturated by mcyt fans, and even now i can only find one or two hateful stance towards us under the whole 20k notes post.
4. Conclusions
Op posted a second apology to the catoftheyear blog to try and calm people down (i believe this is comprehensive and a lot better than the previous one) The blog was deactivated shortly after, so i only have my phone screenshots of it that i also added to the poll itself at some point:
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(Edit) Here's proof that op did not write the justification they got criticised for, from the notes of the original poll:
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This apology didn't get seen, or get accepted by enough people, so op made this statement on their personal:
Needless to say I am deeply dissapointed (and guilty) that it's come to this. Yes, op said tasteless things that made us all angry, but telling a human being to commit suicide is worse than being insensitive about a stranger's pet dying. Even after I posted about the blog being decatived i had someone come into my notes to wish that "they never find happiness" i mean wtf. This isn't like shipping where we can do whatever without the content creator's input. this is fucking harrowing and i can't imagine how i'd feel if this was done in my/my pet's name especially after losing them as recently as a week ago.
I hope no one from hermitcraft who is on here (let alone scar holy shit) learns about this like they did with previous lighthearted tournaments. If you truly respect the creators you claim to be a fan of as people, you do not tell people to kill themselves over them. And finally, let Jellie fucking rest, guys. she had a long, good life. I hope op can come back and also avoids behaving like this if they ever wish to do so. I'm angrier at mcytblr, though.
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wonustars · 9 days
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𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (Teaser)
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𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x reader 𖥔 wordcount: ~15k+ (this teaser: 599) 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)
𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!
𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.
𖥔 tags: fake relationship/marriage!au, non-idol!au, mafia!au, afab!reader, norbert is readers cat (more tags when the fic is posted) 𖥔 release date: may 14 or 15, 2024 𖥔 author's note: if i end up posting after the predicted dates plz do not crucify me 🙏 ik a lot of people have been waiting for this one so i'd thought i post a teaser since i have 2-3 chapters left till its finally finished. thank you to all of those who sent in their ideas and to those who've shown so much interest in this story :") i really hope it lives up to your expectations!! see u soonest - anna ♡ !!!!
𖥔 keep reading
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The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward to say the least.
Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homely" as possible. 
Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye-candy. Despite the fact that he wore his pink shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 
Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 
“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 
“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 
“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.
The group of fourty plus year old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratches the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him good-bye, curious as to what they group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers isn’t it? 
The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt he left. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raises a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 
“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 
Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you, there wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you’ve moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 
“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 
You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyways, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 
From across the yard, neither you of Mingyu notice Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awfully awkward for newly weds, he thinks to himself. 
“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 
Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 
“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.
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turtletoria · 3 months
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EDIT: I AM ALL OUT OF STICKERS !! I AM THINKING OF DOING A 2ND ROUND OF THESE POSSIBLY NEXT MONTH!! HOWEVER DONT WAIT TO DONATE AND KEEP GOING EVERYONE!!! THANK YOU!!
to the people who donated already: i am working on packing everything and getting them ready to be mailed! i will notify everyone by email once theyve been sent to the post! thank yall so much for participating!
Here's the deal: I will send you all 3 stickers for free if you show me a screenshot of a receipt of either an eSIM purchase or a donation to a Palestinian organization/cause that totals to $16 or more made AFTER 2/11/2024! You can split your donations between multiple causes!
PLEASE SEND PROOF AND MAILING ADDRESSES TO THIS GOOG FORM: http://tinyurl.com/stickers4gaza
This fundraiser will keep going until all stickers are gone (I've had about 100 of them made)!!!
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tailschannel · 6 months
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Director Jeff Fowler teases Shadow the Hedgehog in new Sonic Movie 3 post
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"Off and running," said Sonic movie director Jeff Fowler, as he teased Shadow the Hedgehog in a new image uploaded on X, the site formerly known as Twitter, today.
The picture, featuring Shadow’s rocket shoes and inhibitor rings, has sent the Sonic fandom into a frenzy. Next to Shadow is a film clapboard, revealing an updated logo for Sonic 3, with Jeff confirming the movie's 20 December 2024 release date. Cinematographer Brandon Trost, who previously worked in the same role for Sonic 2, returns for this film.
The tease came after the end of a historic labour dispute between the studios and actors, which will enable the resumption of regular filming operations in Hollywood as early as December 2024. It is currently unclear if this tease marks the start of actors being involved in filming.
(via newsfeed)
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vavandeveresfan · 4 months
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Holy shit, the New York Times is FINALLY interviewing and listening to detransistioners.
The tide is turning.
Opinion by Pamela Paul
As Kids, They Thought They Were Trans. They No Longer Do.
Feb. 2, 2024
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Grace Powell was 12 or 13 when she discovered she could be a boy.
Growing up in a relatively conservative community in Grand Rapids, Mich., Powell, like many teenagers, didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin. She was unpopular and frequently bullied. Puberty made everything worse. She suffered from depression and was in and out of therapy.
“I felt so detached from my body, and the way it was developing felt hostile to me,” Powell told me. It was classic gender dysphoria, a feeling of discomfort with your sex.
Reading about transgender people online, Powell believed that the reason she didn’t feel comfortable in her body was that she was in the wrong body. Transitioning seemed like the obvious solution. The narrative she had heard and absorbed was that if you don’t transition, you’ll kill yourself.
At 17, desperate to begin hormone therapy, Powell broke the news to her parents. They sent her to a gender specialist to make sure she was serious. In the fall of her senior year of high school, she started cross-sex hormones. She had a double mastectomy the summer before college, then went off as a transgender man named Grayson to Sarah Lawrence College, where she was paired with a male roommate on a men’s floor. At 5-foot-3, she felt she came across as a very effeminate gay man.
At no point during her medical or surgical transition, Powell says, did anyone ask her about the reasons behind her gender dysphoria or her depression. At no point was she asked about her sexual orientation. And at no point was she asked about any previous trauma, and so neither the therapists nor the doctors ever learned that she’d been sexually abused as a child.
“I wish there had been more open conversations,” Powell, now 23 and detransitioned, told me. “But I was told there is one cure and one thing to do if this is your problem, and this will help you.”
Progressives often portray the heated debate over childhood transgender care as a clash between those who are trying to help growing numbers of children express what they believe their genders to be and conservative politicians who won’t let kids be themselves.
But right-wing demagogues are not the only ones who have inflamed this debate. Transgender activists have pushed their own ideological extremism, especially by pressing for a treatment orthodoxy that has faced increased scrutiny in recent years. Under that model of care, clinicians are expected to affirm a young person’s assertion of gender identity and even provide medical treatment before, or even without, exploring other possible sources of distress.
Many who think there needs to be a more cautious approach — including well-meaning liberal parents, doctors and people who have undergone gender transition and subsequently regretted their procedures — have been attacked as anti-trans and intimidated into silencing their concerns.
And while Donald Trump denounces “left-wing gender insanity” and many trans activists describe any opposition as transphobic, parents in America’s vast ideological middle can find little dispassionate discussion of the genuine risks or trade-offs involved in what proponents call gender-affirming care.
Powell’s story shows how easy it is for young people to get caught up by the pull of ideology in this atmosphere.
“What should be a medical and psychological issue has been morphed into a political one,” Powell lamented during our conversation. “It’s a mess.”
A New and Growing Group of Patients
Many transgender adults are happy with their transitions and, whether they began to transition as adults or adolescents, feel it was life changing, even lifesaving. The small but rapidly growing number of children who express gender dysphoria and who transition at an early age, according to clinicians, is a recent and more controversial phenomenon.
Laura Edwards-Leeper, the founding psychologist of the first pediatric gender clinic in the United States, said that when she started her practice in 2007, most of her patients had longstanding and deep-seated gender dysphoria. Transitioning clearly made sense for almost all of them, and any mental health issues they had were generally resolved through gender transition.
“But that is just not the case anymore,” she told me recently. While she doesn’t regret transitioning the earlier cohort of patients and opposes government bans on transgender medical care, she said, “As far as I can tell, there are no professional organizations who are stepping in to regulate what’s going on.”
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Most of her patients now, she said, have no history of childhood gender dysphoria. Others refer to this phenomenon, with some controversy, as rapid onset gender dysphoria, in which adolescents, particularly tween and teenage girls, express gender dysphoria despite never having done so when they were younger. Frequently, they have mental health issues unrelated to gender. While professional associations say there is a lack of quality research on rapid onset gender dysphoria, several researchers have documented the phenomenon, and many health care providers have seen evidence of it in their practices.
“The population has changed drastically,” said Edwards-Leeper, a former head of the Child and Adolescent Committee for the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the organization responsible for setting gender transition guidelines for medical professionals.
For these young people, she told me, “you have to take time to really assess what’s going on and hear the timeline and get the parents’ perspective in order to create an individualized treatment plan. Many providers are completely missing that step.”
Yet those health care professionals and scientists who do not think clinicians should automatically agree to a young person’s self-diagnosis are often afraid to speak out. A report commissioned by the National Health Service about Britain’s Tavistock gender clinic, which, until it was ordered to be shut down, was the country’s only health center dedicated to gender identity, noted that “primary and secondary care staff have told us that they feel under pressure to adopt an unquestioning affirmative approach and that this is at odds with the standard process of clinical assessment and diagnosis that they have been trained to undertake in all other clinical encounters.”
Of the dozens of students she’s trained as psychologists, Edwards-Leeper said, few still seem to be providing gender-related care. While her students have left the field for various reasons, “some have told me that they didn’t feel they could continue because of the pushback, the accusations of being transphobic, from being pro-assessment and wanting a more thorough process,” she said.
They have good reasons to be wary. Stephanie Winn, a licensed marriage and family therapist in Oregon, was trained in gender-affirming care and treated multiple transgender patients. But in 2020, after coming across detransition videos online, she began to doubt the gender-affirming model. In 2021 she spoke out in favor of approaching gender dysphoria in a more considered way, urging others in the field to pay attention to detransitioners, people who no longer consider themselves transgender after undergoing medical or surgical interventions. She has since been attacked by transgender activists. Some threatened to send complaints to her licensing board saying that she was trying to make trans kids change their minds through conversion therapy.
In April 2022, the Oregon Board of Licensed Professional Counselors and Therapists told Winn that she was under investigation. Her case was ultimately dismissed, but Winn no longer treats minors and practices only online, where many of her patients are worried parents of trans-identifying children.
“I don’t feel safe having a location where people can find me,” she said.
Detransitioners say that only conservative media outlets seem interested in telling their stories, which has left them open to attacks as hapless tools of the right, something that frustrated and dismayed every detransitioner I interviewed. These are people who were once the trans-identified kids that so many organizations say they’re trying to protect — but when they change their minds, they say, they feel abandoned.
Most parents and clinicians are simply trying to do what they think is best for the children involved. But parents with qualms about the current model of care are frustrated by what they see as a lack of options.
Parents told me it was a struggle to balance the desire to compassionately support a child with gender dysphoria while seeking the best psychological and medical care. Many believed their kids were gay or dealing with an array of complicated issues. But all said they felt compelled by gender clinicians, doctors, schools and social pressure to accede to their child’s declared gender identity even if they had serious doubts. They feared it would tear apart their family if they didn’t unquestioningly support social transition and medical treatment. All asked to speak anonymously, so desperate were they to maintain or repair any relationship with their children, some of whom were currently estranged.
Several of those who questioned their child’s self-diagnosis told me it had ruined their relationship. A few parents said simply, “I feel like I’ve lost my daughter.”
One mother described a meeting with 12 other parents in a support group for relatives of trans-identified youth where all of the participants described their children as autistic or otherwise neurodivergent. To all questions, the woman running the meeting replied, “Just let them transition.” The mother left in shock. How would hormones help a child with obsessive-compulsive disorder or depression? she wondered.
Some parents have found refuge in anonymous online support groups. There, people share tips on finding caregivers who will explore the causes of their children’s distress or tend to their overall emotional and developmental health and well-being without automatically acceding to their children’s self-diagnosis.
Many parents of kids who consider themselves trans say their children were introduced to transgender influencers on YouTube or TikTok, a phenomenon intensified for some by the isolation and online cocoon of Covid. Others say their kids learned these ideas in the classroom, as early as elementary school, often in child-friendly ways through curriculums supplied by trans rights organizations, with concepts like the gender unicorn or the Genderbread person.
‘Do You Want a Dead Son or a Live Daughter?’
After Kathleen’s 15-year-old son, whom she described as an obsessive child, abruptly told his parents he was trans, the doctor who was going to assess whether he had A.D.H.D. referred him instead to someone who specialized in both A.D.H.D. and gender. Kathleen, who asked to be identified only by her first name to protect her son’s privacy, assumed that the specialist would do some kind of evaluation or assessment. That was not the case.
The meeting was brief and began on a shocking note. “In front of my son, the therapist said, ‘Do you want a dead son or a live daughter?’” Kathleen recounted.
Parents are routinely warned that to pursue any path outside of agreeing with a child’s self-declared gender identity is to put a gender dysphoric youth at risk for suicide, which feels to many people like emotional blackmail. Proponents of the gender-affirming model have cited studies showing an association between that standard of care and a lower risk of suicide. But those studies were found to have methodological flaws or have been deemed not entirely conclusive. A survey of studies on the psychological effects of cross-sex hormones, published three years ago in The Journal of the Endocrine Society, the professional organization for hormone specialists, found it “could not draw any conclusions about death by suicide.” In a letter to The Wall Street Journal last year, 21 experts from nine countries said that survey was one reason they believed there was “no reliable evidence to suggest that hormonal transition is an effective suicide prevention measure.”
Moreover, the incidence of suicidal thoughts and attempts among gender dysphoric youth is complicated by the high incidence of accompanying conditions, such as autism spectrum disorder. As one systematic overview put it, “Children with gender dysphoria often experience a range of psychiatric comorbidities, with a high prevalence of mood and anxiety disorders, trauma, eating disorders and autism spectrum conditions, suicidality and self-harm.”
But rather than being treated as patients who deserve unbiased professional help, children with gender dysphoria often become political pawns.
Conservative lawmakers are working to ban access to gender care for minors and occasionally for adults as well. On the other side, however, many medical and mental health practitioners feel their hands have been tied by activist pressure and organizational capture. They say that it has become difficult to practice responsible mental health care or medicine for these young people.
Pediatricians, psychologists and other clinicians who dissent from this orthodoxy, believing that it is not based on reliable evidence, feel frustrated by their professional organizations. The American Psychological Association, American Psychiatric Association and the American Academy of Pediatrics have wholeheartedly backed the gender-affirming model.
In 2021, Aaron Kimberly, a 50-year-old trans man and registered nurse, left the clinic in British Columbia where his job focused on the intake and assessment of gender-dysphoric youth. Kimberly received a comprehensive screening when he embarked on his own successful transition at age 33, which resolved the gender dysphoria he experienced from an early age.
But when the gender-affirming model was introduced at his clinic, he was instructed to support the initiation of hormone treatment for incoming patients regardless of whether they had complex mental problems, experiences with trauma or were otherwise “severely unwell,” Kimberly said. When he referred patients for further mental health care rather than immediate hormone treatment, he said he was accused of what they called gatekeeping and had to change jobs.
“I realized something had gone totally off the rails,” Kimberly, who subsequently founded the Gender Dysphoria Alliance and the L.G.B.T. Courage Coalition to advocate better gender care, told me.
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Gay men and women often told me they fear that same-sex-attracted kids, especially effeminate boys and tomboy girls who are gender nonconforming, will be transitioned during a normal phase of childhood and before sexual maturation — and that gender ideology can mask and even abet homophobia.
As one detransitioned man, now in a gay relationship, put it, “I was a gay man pumped up to look like a woman and dated a lesbian who was pumped up to look like a man. If that’s not conversion therapy, I don’t know what is.”
“I transitioned because I didn’t want to be gay,” Kasey Emerick, a 23-year-old woman and detransitioner from Pennsylvania, told me. Raised in a conservative Christian church, she said, “I believed homosexuality was a sin.”
When she was 15, Emerick confessed her homosexuality to her mother. Her mother attributed her sexual orientation to trauma — Emerick’s father was convicted of raping and assaulting her repeatedly when she was between the ages of 4 and 7 — but after catching Emerick texting with another girl at age 16, she took away her phone. When Emerick melted down, her mother admitted her to a psychiatric hospital. While there, Emerick told herself, “If I was a boy, none of this would have happened.”
In May 2017, Emerick began searching “gender” online and encountered trans advocacy websites. After realizing she could “pick the other side,” she told her mother, “I’m sick of being called a dyke and not a real girl.” If she were a man, she’d be free to pursue relationships with women.
That September, she and her mother met with a licensed professional counselor for the first of two 90-minute consultations. She told the counselor that she had wished to be a Boy Scout rather than a Girl Scout. She said she didn’t like being gay or a butch lesbian. She also told the counselor that she had suffered from anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation. The clinic recommended testosterone, which was prescribed by a nearby L.G.B.T.Q. health clinic. Shortly thereafter, she was also diagnosed with A.D.H.D. She developed panic attacks. At age 17, she was cleared for a double mastectomy.
“I’m thinking, ‘Oh my God, I’m having my breasts removed. I’m 17. I’m too young for this,’” she recalled. But she went ahead with the operation.
“Transition felt like a way to control something when I couldn’t control anything in my life,” Emerick explained. But after living as a trans man for five years, Emerick realized her mental health symptoms were only getting worse. In the fall of 2022, she came out as a detransitioner on Twitter and was immediately attacked. Transgender influencers told her she was bald and ugly. She received multiple threats.
“I thought my life was over,” she said. “I realized that I had lived a lie for over five years.”
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Today Emerick’s voice, permanently altered by testosterone, is that of a man. When she tells people she’s a detransitioner, they ask when she plans to stop taking T and live as a woman. “I’ve been off it for a year,” she replies.
Once, after she recounted her story to a therapist, the therapist tried to reassure her. If it’s any consolation, the therapist remarked, “I would never have guessed that you were once a trans woman.” Emerick replied, “Wait, what sex do you think I am?”
To the trans activist dictum that children know their gender best, it is important to add something all parents know from experience: Children change their minds all the time. One mother told me that after her teenage son desisted — pulled back from a trans identity before any irreversible medical procedures — he explained, “I was just rebelling. I look at it like a subculture, like being goth.”
“The job of children and adolescents is to experiment and explore where they fit into the world, and a big part of that exploration, especially during adolescence, is around their sense of identity,” Sasha Ayad, a licensed professional counselor based in Phoenix, told me. “Children at that age often present with a great deal of certainty and urgency about who they believe they are at the time and things they would like to do in order to enact that sense of identity.”
Ayad, a co-author of “When Kids Say They’re Trans: A Guide for Thoughtful Parents,” advises parents to be wary of the gender affirmation model. “We’ve always known that adolescents are particularly malleable in relationship to their peers and their social context and that exploration is often an attempt to navigate difficulties of that stage, such as puberty, coming to terms with the responsibilities and complications of young adulthood, romance and solidifying their sexual orientation,” she told me. For providing this kind of exploratory approach in her own practice with gender dysphoric youth, Ayad has had her license challenged twice, both times by adults who were not her patients. Both times, the charges were dismissed.
Studies show that around eight in 10 cases of childhood gender dysphoria resolve themselves by puberty and 30 percent of people on hormone therapy discontinue its use within four years, though the effects, including infertility, are often irreversible.
Proponents of early social transition and medical interventions for gender dysphoric youth cite a 2022 study showing that 98 percent of children who took both puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones continued treatment for short periods, and another study that tracked 317 children who socially transitioned between the ages of 3 and 12, which found that 94 percent of them still identified as transgender five years later. But such early interventions may cement children’s self-conceptions without giving them time to think or sexually mature.
‘The Process of Transition Didn’t Make Me Feel Better’
At the end of her freshman year of college, Grace Powell, horrifically depressed, began dissociating, feeling detached from her body and from reality, which had never happened to her before. Ultimately, she said, “the process of transition didn’t make me feel better. It magnified what I found was wrong with myself.”
“I expected it to change everything, but I was just me, with a slightly deeper voice,” she added. “It took me two years to start detransitioning and living as Grace again.”
She tried in vain to find a therapist who would treat her underlying issues, but they kept asking her: How do you want to be seen? Do you want to be nonbinary? Powell wanted to talk about her trauma, not her identity or her gender presentation. She ended up getting online therapy from a former employee of the Tavistock clinic in Britain. This therapist, a woman who has broken from the gender-affirming model, talked Grace through what she sees as her failure to launch and her efforts to reset. The therapist asked questions like: Who is Grace? What do you want from your life? For the first time, Powell felt someone was seeing and helping her as a person, not simply looking to slot her into an identity category.
Many detransitioners say they face ostracism and silencing because of the toxic politics around transgender issues.
“It is extraordinarily frustrating to feel that something I am is inherently political,” Powell told me. “I’ve been accused multiple times that I’m some right-winger who’s making a fake narrative to discredit transgender people, which is just crazy.”
While she believes there are people who benefit from transitioning, “I wish more people would understand that there’s not a one-size-fits-all solution,” she said. “I wish we could have that conversation.”
In a recent study in The Archives of Sexual Behavior, about 40 young detransitioners out of 78 surveyed said they had suffered from rapid onset gender dysphoria. Trans activists have fought hard to suppress any discussion of rapid onset gender dysphoria, despite evidence that the condition is real. In its guide for journalists, the activist organization GLAAD warns the media against using the term, as it is not “a formal condition or diagnosis.” Human Rights Campaign, another activist group, calls it “a right-wing theory.” A group of professional organizations put out a statement urging clinicians to eliminate the term from use.
Nobody knows how many young people desist after social, medical or surgical transitions. Trans activists often cite low regret rates for gender transition, along with low figures for detransition. But those studies, which often rely on self-reported cases to gender clinics, likely understate the actual numbers. None of the seven detransitioners I interviewed, for instance, even considered reporting back to the gender clinics that prescribed them medication they now consider to have been a mistake. Nor did they know any other detransitioners who had done so.
As Americans furiously debate the basis of transgender care, a number of advances in understanding have taken place in Europe, where the early Dutch studies that became the underpinning of gender-affirming care have been broadly questioned and criticized. Unlike some of the current population of gender dysphoric youth, the Dutch study participants had no serious psychological conditions. Those studies were riddled with methodological flaws and weaknesses. There was no evidence that any intervention was lifesaving. There was no long-term follow-up with any of the study’s 55 participants or the 15 who dropped out. A British effort to replicate the study said that it “identified no changes in psychological function” and that more studies were needed.
In countries like Sweden, Norway, France, the Netherlands and Britain — long considered exemplars of gender progress — medical professionals have recognized that early research on medical interventions for childhood gender dysphoria was either faulty or incomplete. Last month, the World Health Organization, in explaining why it is developing “a guideline on the health of trans and gender diverse people,” said it will cover only adults because “the evidence base for children and adolescents is limited and variable regarding the longer-term outcomes of gender-affirming care for children and adolescents.”
But in America, and Canada, the results of those widely criticized Dutch studies are falsely presented to the public as settled science.
Other countries have recently halted or limited the medical and surgical treatment of gender dysphoric youth, pending further study. Britain’s Tavistock clinic was ordered to be shut down next month, after a National Health Service-commissioned investigation found deficiencies in service and “a lack of consensus and open discussion about the nature of gender dysphoria and therefore about the appropriate clinical response.”
Meanwhile, the American medical establishment has hunkered down, stuck in an outdated model of gender affirmation. The American Academy of Pediatrics only recently agreed to conduct more research in response to yearslong efforts by dissenting experts, including Dr. Julia Mason, a self-described “bleeding-heart liberal.”
The larger threat to transgender people comes from Republicans who wish to deny them rights and protections. But the doctrinal rigidity of the progressive wing of the Democratic Party is disappointing, frustrating and counterproductive.
“I was always a liberal Democrat,” one woman whose son desisted after social transition and hormone therapy told me. “Now I feel politically homeless.”
She noted that the Biden administration has “unequivocally” supported gender-affirming care for minors, in cases in which it deems it “medically appropriate and necessary.” Rachel Levine, the assistant secretary for health at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, told NPR in 2022 that “there is no argument among medical professionals — pediatricians, pediatric endocrinologists, adolescent medicine physicians, adolescent psychiatrists, psychologists, et cetera — about the value and the importance of gender-affirming care.”
Of course, politics should not influence medical practice, whether the issue is birth control, abortion or gender medicine. But unfortunately, politics has gotten in the way of progress. Last year The Economist published a thorough investigation into America’s approach to gender medicine. Zanny Minton Beddoes, the editor, put the issue into political context. “If you look internationally at countries in Europe, the U.K. included, their medical establishments are much more concerned,” Beddoes told Vanity Fair. “But here — in part because this has become wrapped up in the culture wars where you have, you know, crazy extremes from the Republican right — if you want to be an upstanding liberal, you feel like you can’t say anything.”
Some people are trying to open up that dialogue, or at least provide outlets for kids and families to seek a more therapeutic approach to gender dysphoria.
Paul Garcia-Ryan is a psychotherapist in New York who cares for kids and families seeking holistic, exploratory care for gender dysphoria. He is also a detransitioner who from ages 15 to 30 fully believed he was a woman.
Garcia-Ryan is gay, but as a boy, he said, “it was much less threatening to my psyche to think that I was a straight girl born into the wrong body — that I had a medical condition that could be tended to.” When he visited a clinic at 15, the clinician immediately affirmed he was female, and rather than explore the reasons for his mental distress, simply confirmed Garcia-Ryan’s belief that he was not meant to be a man.
Once in college, he began medically transitioning and eventually had surgery on his genitals. Severe medical complications from both the surgery and hormone medication led him to reconsider what he had done, and to detransition. He also reconsidered the basis of gender affirmation, which, as a licensed clinical social worker at a gender clinic, he had been trained in and provided to clients.
“You’re made to believe these slogans,” he said. “Evidence-based, lifesaving care, safe and effective, medically necessary, the science is settled — and none of that is evidence based.”
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Garcia-Ryan, 32, is now the board president of Therapy First, an organization that supports therapists who do not agree with the gender affirmation model. He thinks transition can help some people manage the symptoms of gender dysphoria but no longer believes anyone under 25 should socially, medically or surgically transition without exploratory psychotherapy first.
“When a professional affirms a gender identity for a younger person, what they are doing is implementing a psychological intervention that narrows a person’s sense of self and closes off their options for considering what’s possible for them,” Garcia-Ryan told me.
Instead of promoting unproven treatments for children, which surveys show many Americans are uncomfortable with, transgender activists would be more effective if they focused on a shared agenda. Most Americans across the political spectrum can agree on the need for legal protections for transgender adults. They would also probably support additional research on the needs of young people reporting gender dysphoria so that kids could get the best treatment possible.
A shift in this direction would model tolerance and acceptance. It would prioritize compassion over demonization. It would require rising above culture-war politics and returning to reason. It would be the most humane path forward. And it would be the right thing to do.
*~*~*~*~*~*
For those who want tor ead more by those fighting the cancellation forquestioning, read:
Graham Lineham, who's been fighting since the beginning and paid the price, but is not seeing things turn around.
The Glinner Update, Grahan Linehan's Substack.
Kellie-Jay Keen @ThePosieParker, who's been physically attacked for organizing events for women demanding women-only spaces.
REDUXX, Feminst news & opinion.
Gays Against Groomers @againstgrmrs, A nonprofit of gay people and others within the community against the sexualization, indoctrination and medicalization of children under the guise of "LGBTQIA+"
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Text
Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 4
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Fandom;
Mean Girls (2024)
Pairings:
Regina George x Reader
Summary:
The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.
Warnings;
Implied ED, Claustrophobia
Parts:
Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4
You can feel Regina’s lips on your skin all morning. The aching pain in your hip is now replaced by a warm longing. It’s a pretty good metaphor for Regina herself. She can bruise you so easily and then make it all better.
She kissed you.
Why did she kiss you?
Was it because she felt so guilty about hurting you and couldn’t find the words to tell you? That had to be it. The other option briefly crosses your mind but you quickly dismiss it. This is Regina George. Less than 2 days ago she didn’t know you existed. She’s the Queen of the school, why would she want to be anything to someone like you? The thought is disheartening but it's much better than falling victim to a disappointing fantasy.
Regina is already gone, as usual. At least it gives you some time in the morning to sort your thoughts into nice neat boxes and get yourself ready without the distraction.
You know that today's activity is caving. Working your way through a man made cave system sounds much better for you, at least your feet are firmly on the ground. You decide on a pair of jeans, another band tee (Is that really all you packed?) and throw a hoodie on top. The caves might be cold and it’ll stop you scraping up your elbows while you navigate tight crawl spaces.
You make your way to the Campfire pit to be shown today's activity. The instructor tells you all to find groups or pairs. You don’t even bother glancing in Regina’s direction, she’ll be with Gretchen and Karen. You don’t mind going through it alone. It’s better than being paired up with a stranger. It would be much more fun with Janis and Damien though.
You feel a slight not in your stomach at the thought of Janis. She’d tried to call again this morning but you didn’t have the heart to answer in case more lies came tumbling out of your mouth, so instead you just sent back a quick text letting her know you’d call this evening and put your phone on silent.
You’re led to a door in the side of what looks like an oddly shaped hill which contains an intricate man-made cave system. Some of the group drop out saying they’re claustrophobic and don’t want to go through. It’s understandable, you wish you’d been given that option on the high ropes.
The instructor lets each group go through every 10 minutes to allow the first group to be a decent way through and avoid traffic. You end up behind the plastics in the queue again. It’s not exactly accidental. Hopefully Regina doesn’t notice this.
They go through first, you try not to make it too obvious where your gaze lands as Regina gets on her knees to crawl through the cave entrance. She’s wearing a pair of tight, black leather trousers and a pink tank top. It frames her body perfectly and you understand why most of the boys at school stare openly when she walks by. How are you only just noticing how hot she is now?
10 minutes later you’re instructed to go through. You crawl, squeeze and climb through the narrow passages of the cave. It’s pitch black, you have to use the head torch on your helmet to navigate.
It’s quite fun, you like the challenge. The further you get into the cave system, the harder some of the tunnels get. Some have passages you have to squeeze through sideways. Some you have to be on your stomach, sliding under. Every so often there are larger chambers you can have a break in and stand up fully. You slip through a narrow tunnel and into a larger chamber and your headlight catches a pair of eyes. You have to physically put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming when you see a human figure cowering in the corner of the cave. You realize it’s Regina and she looks terrified. Her makeup has run slightly as if she’d been crying.
“Hey, are you okay?” You try softly, but Regina is shaking too much to respond. You crouch down to her level and try and meet her gaze.
“Where are Gretchen and Karen?” You ask. From what you can tell, they’re nowhere in sight and you can’t hear their chipper voices up ahead.
“They went on ahead.” She answers, her voice barely a whisper.
She glances over at the next tunnel, you can tell because her head torch illuminates the passage. It’s tight. Possibly the hardest one to get through so far. You move to look through and see another chamber with specks of light. This must be the final challenge.
“I’m pretty sure this is the final tunnel. I can see the light on the other side.” There’s no response from the blonde, she must be really scared.
Why did Karen and Gretchen just leave her like this? You know you wouldn’t have. Did Regina ask them to go ahead so they didn’t see she was this afraid? She doesn’t hide her fear in front of you, she eats with you and she laughs and plays geeky games with you. You guess she only agreed to go through to protect her reputation, it seems more than its worth keeping up her act.
“I can go first, then you follow and I’ll pull you through so you’re out quicker.” you say, standing to walk over to the tunnel and offering her your hand.
“Please don’t! you’re going to leave me here.” She cries, her lip is trembling. You wish you could comfort her better but you’re not sure what she’ll allow and you don’t want to push your luck.
“Regina, I promise I won’t leave you. I’ll crawl through and pull you out the other side. You just have to follow after me, I won’t let anything happen.”
“....You promise?” She whispers.
You take one of her hands
“I promise”
Her hand is so soft, just as you’d expect. Just how you’d expect the rest of her to feel. You squeeze her hand in encouragement before you bend down to crawl through the tunnel. Once you reach the last chamber you see there’s an exit door. You sigh in relief.
“Come through now, I’m at the other end, there’s a door here!” you shout, hoping she can hear you from the other side.
You hear shuffling from the end of the tunnel and bend down, ready to pull her through. As soon as she’s in arms reach you swiftly pull her out and she lets out a shaky breath. She quickly puts her arms around your neck in a gentle hug.
“Thank you”
Her breath tickles your neck and you’re overwhelmed by everything about her. You don’t move to reciprocate the hug, you’re still understandably wary after what happened and you don’t want to do anything that’d make her let go any faster.
And then she’s gone. When you leave the final chamber you see her back with Gretchen and Karen, subtly wiping her eyes to make sure nobody sees her smudged makeup. It’s impressive how quickly she can recover and put her mean girl act back on. You wonder how long she’d had to wear that mask.
You head back to the campfire pit for dinner, but you don’t bother going to eat anything. Regina had said she wanted dinner with you again. You couldn’t shake the thought that it felt like a date, but you couldn’t let yourself think like that. Regina had Boyfriends, and had already bullied Janis for her sexuality. You had to be more careful.
You wait for about 30 minutes after dinner at the campfire pit has ended. Regina doesn't show up. That serves you right for thinking Regina even thought of you as a friend, let alone thinking of your secret dinners as a date. You’re just there for her convenience.
You feel a squeezing sensation in your chest. Why did you let it bother you this much? You decide you need a distraction so go to the river close by the camp and ask one of the instructors if you can borrow a canoe. You’e allowed but you have to sign the boat out and make sure it’s returned within 3 hours. That’s fine, you want as much time away from the cabin as you can. Away from Regina’s stuff, away from her sweet vanilla scent, away from her giggle that still felt like it was trapped between the walls, away from Regina.
You take the Canoe to the edge of the river and lower it in, you hop down into the small boat and pick up the oar ready to set sail.
“Hey, what the fuck?” you hear a familiar voice yell.
All of your resolve to forget about her disappears when you see her at the bank, above your boat with her arms folded and one eyebrow raised. It’s intimidating.
“I saw you walk off earlier. What happened to dinner?” She scoffs “ Nobody stands me up, where are you going?”
“I didn’t think you were coming, I waited for half an hour.” you respond, you wish you could sound as confident as Regina but it just comes out as guilty, like a scorned puppy.
She drops down into the boat and sits facing you. Her eyes are challenging.
“I’m coming with you. I’m not allowed to go back to Karen and Gretchen’s cabins anyway.” That stings a little. So she’s not just spending time with you because she wants to.
“And I guess you’re not bad company.” She adds, rolling her eyes.
That makes your heart flutter and you hand her an oar and push off from the bank. You’re not sure where you’re going and Regina doesn’t really help row much. Luckily the flow of the river helps pull you downstream.
You’re not sure what possesses you but for a moment you forget who you’re in a boat with and dip your oar into the water, you pull it out fast and splash the blonde who is now looking at you with an incredulous expression.
“What the FUCK!” She screams as the cold water hits her.
You can’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a lot of water but you can see some droplets running down her cheeks. She growls in frustration and dips her hand in the river to splash you back.
You shriek at the sensation of sudden cold, but you’re still laughing. You see her lips curl in a smile too. You’re not sure if she’s laughing too or just proud she managed to get you back.
Unfortunately your oar can create a much bigger splash than her hand and this time you hit her with quite a lot of cold water to her chest, narrowly missing her face.
The look she gives you makes your knees weak and you regret the choice immediately.
Shit. You might have taken it too far.
She lunges for you, grappling for the oar. You lean left, trying to stretch the oar right out of her reach. Her body is sliding against yours, you can feel the cold patch where the water soaked into her top. Her face is millimeters from yours and you glance down at her lips. If you just moved forward a tiny bit your lips would meet, she probably tastes like vanilla too. She leans on the edge of the boat, inching forwards. Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion.
The weight of both of you on one side is just slightly too much and the canoe flips, dunking you both underwater. It’s freezing and makes you gasp when you breach the surface in a state of absolute shock. Regina splashes her way to the surface beside you, she’s gasping and her eyes are wide, black mascara dripping down her face.
A giggle erupts from your lips and it's not long before it's a full blown laughing fit. Regina giggles too, its a loose and carefree sound, it might be your favorite.
You swim over to her and flick some water at her, she squeals and throws some back your way. No use going easy now, you’re both soaked.
You manage to flip the canoe back over with some effort and both climb back in. You have no change of clothes and you’re both so cold your lips are turning blue so you decide to turn back.
“I’m so sorry I left you earlier. I didn’t think you were coming.” You chatter between shivers.
“I even stole these sandwiches from dinner for us, but I don't think we can eat them now.” She shudders back, pulling out two dripping wet sandwiches from her pocket. This makes you both burst into another giggling fit.
She shifts over to sit next to you and rests her head on your shoulder. Even though you’re soaked you feel your whole body heat up, especially your cheeks from the interaction. You rest your head on top of hers, surprised when she doesn’t pull away.
You make it back to the bank without going for another unexpected swim and tell Regina to go back to the cabin while you return the boating equipment. There’s no use in both of you staying freezing.
She’s already showered by the time you’re back and sitting on the edge of her bed. She gives you a shy smile and you dip into the bathroom to warm up. The water gives new life to your icy skin, as it washes down your face you can’t help but remember Regina’s soft lips just centimeters from yours. What would have happened if the boat hadn’t tipped? Probably nothing right? You’re just overthinking it.
As you start putting your pajamas on you notice your phone buzzing again. It's Janis. It’s reasonably late enough to pretend you're asleep so you swipe the screen to decline the call and put your phone in your pocket.
When you go back into the bedroom, Regina is under the covers, scrolling her phone but she sits up as soon as you come in.
“Hey, uh I wanted to say thanks for today.. you know, helping me, and I had fun.” She thinks for a moment. “Having fun with you is easy.” she adds with a small, sleepy smile.
“If I check my schedule I’m sure I can fit you in tomorrow evening.” You laugh, pretending to think over exaggeratedly.
She rolls her eyes with a smile.
“Goodnight Loser.” She yawns.
“Night Regina” You reply
Just as you’re about to lay down you hear a muffled voice from your pocket.
“What the fuck, are you talking to Regina?”
Shit.
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pastadoughie · 23 days
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large block of cheese
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a-study-in-dante · 2 months
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March 22nd, 2024 | I'm exhausteeeed. But lately I've been 1. Accepted to a summer school in Italy, 2. Taking part in lovely exciting events and meeting ups with friends & 3. Kind of reaching a personal deadline, resulting in a big chunk of work sent to my advisor. Worth it?
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safination · 3 months
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Partners in Death…and Life
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Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself
| Part 1: Radio's Not Dead |Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should be Trusted| Masterlist | ao3 Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason.
Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Hello, I’m back :D This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Anyway, thank you for all the likes so far. It motivated me to really finish this chapter. Also once again, I have everything planned out, it really is just a matter of writing it down. *Updated 28/02/2024 Just added some stuff that I thought made sense*
Flick…
Flick…
Flick…
Lights flicker above you with a slight buzz. You drape an arm over your eyes when the gleam of the bulb blind you.
The hardwood floors chill your skin, but it’s the sensation of casual loose clothing on your back that warrants your exhale in peace. Just a second. You just need a moment on these hard and chilling floors to ground you… just… one … single … moment to…
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
A stray feather pricks into your arm. The vane tickles, but the barb digs your skin. You’ve called this body ‘yours’ far longer than your human one, yet the feathers that grow on your skin still astound you. You twirl it around your fingers, and wave it in the air like a wand—it’s a proper animalistic feather.
Your nose scrunches into a hard scowl, and you jump up, stomping into the kitchen toward that untouched coffee mug on your counter. Grabbing it, you splash the contents down the sink, letting it flush down the drain.
The sponge is rough against your hands as you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub a̵̯͒n̴̤͝d̶̫͌ ̶͚̇y̶̤̎o̷͔̓u̶̢͐ ̸̓͜s̵̪͗c̸͎͂r̷̀ͅṳ̴̎b̸͖̀ ầ̷̩̯͍̙̳̍͗͘ń̵̰̞̰̕d̴͇̻̮̫̝̓̎̈́ ̶̡̬̬̮̺͗͒́̌͑y̴̙̘̻͇̿̉̐͆ǫ̷͉̟̍̅̑̏ŭ̸̖͓ͅ ̴̛̝͇̭̥̌́́̂s̸̠̑̽̏́c̷̥̺̃̾̊r̶̲̯̈́̈̄͆͊u̵̼̝͕̼̇̍̈́͘b̶͍͖͖̐̾͝.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
You rinse the mug, slamming the cupboard door shut when you drop it next to your own clean one. Fingers run through your feather-hair…hair-feather, or your ‘whatever that grows on your scalp’. Some questions you’ve stopped asking.
An audible grumble… well, uhhhhh…. grumbles from where your stomach is placed in this body, and you munch on your lips to keep the inhumane screech from erupting into the kitchen and breaking all kinds of glassware and little knickknacks that Alastor filled your home with.
(These days, the old trinkets collect dust on your shelves. There haven’t been any new ones in years.)
Chopping Hell’s equivalent of carrots calms you. (It’s honestly the use of some type of razor-sharp object that calms you. You’d prefer a different razor-sharp object, but a sharp knife is a sharp knife, no matter the size.) You chop until there’s enough food to make a proper and decent meal that your stomach will accept.
You crash on the couch, dinner secured on a plate, and flip the television switch. Light flashes into the room when you do.
Ad about some impish business—Not interested.
‘Yeah, I fucked your sister, So what?’ — Boring.
Cooking Venison with Vox— Lame.
Settling on the lifestyle network, you munch on your food. Some poor slimy creature flashes across the screen, and it's her home that will be remodeled because of…something. You’re not sure what that something was. You don’t care enough to find out.
The sounds from the television swap with the silence of your living-room as you take each bite. It’s one of the sadder habits you’ve picked up since purchasing this noisy picture box.
Your eyes wander to that half-filled coat rack, while your ears listen in on the show and that woman did not just say that pink would go with brown. Only your singular coat drapes on the hinge, when this particular design was made to hold two.
A commercial plays for some-thing called the Hazbin Hotel.
Your eyes are stitched to the screen until the final note of the song plays, and a different advertisement takes its spot. You take a sip of your drink.  Just ą̷̖̯͈͂ ̷̡̧͚̤̩͎̙͇̞͓̟͈̤̝͉͉͉̘̉͐̓́̆́̇̍̐̿̈̄͜͜͜͝͝s̶̨̢̛̥̣̻̱̰̬̩̹̥̞̟̳̝͔͓͙̗̗͕̟͇̆̉̿į̴̡̢̠͇̱̤͔̙͎͕͛̑̓̒̀̔͆̓͂̃̚͘͘͠ṗ̶̡̢̨̳͙̦̮͍͓̻͎̲̪̲͕͛̔̐́̐̈́̒̒̉̎͛̆̈́̈́̉̔̑̃̕ͅ.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
You blink, and you find your keys locking your front door.  Already, your legs are trekking down the garden stones. A flower snarls at you as the gate locks with a click.
Another blink.
 Huh…you’re on the bus.
The sign says it’s headed into the city. Living on the outskirts has always been beneficial for you. Not today, though. Today, the one-hour commute makes your feathers bristle.
You read the barely eligible address scribbled on the note, and pat your hair, smoothing the flared feathers sticking out. It seems…
Hmmmmm.
It seems you did not think this through. H-how…How are you going to get to the hotel?
Tagatha calls you a fossil for using one of those flippy telephones. You considered purchasing those fancy telephones with the lights and screens, and loud robotic voices telling you where to turn left, but learning to use a flip-phone brought enough stress for two lifetimes. You’ll happily stay a fossil.
Turns out, you don’t even need the address.
The Hazbin Hotel sticks out. It’s a humongous building with its name written across what you call the sky in blinding neon lights. Your vision zooms in, and you see that the hotel rests on a giant hill at the other edge of the city. Three large neon-lit arrows point to a crudely attached radio tower. Below it, a wooden ship hangs to the side. Circus light bulbs flicker with electricity.
The Hazbin Hotel is an eyesore – it’s exactly what Alastor prefers.
You reach the dinged-up metal gate on the bottom of the hill and reset your hand on the rusted latch. Trekking through the city took a lot, and you were already here. So, why are your legs frozen to the cement? Why does your heartbeat thump in your ears?
“Excuuussseeeee me.”
A snake towers over you. It’s your first time seeing such a slithery specimen as large as him. His hat rests on his hold, and it blinks at you. His hair … or was that skin … puffs out with two red sets of red eyes.
“Can I help you?” you say, warily. Sinners are in hell for a reason.
“Yessssh,” he says, his tongue slithering out. His flaps stick out, all four eyes staring right into your own. “I’d like to be a guessst at this hotel!”
You glance at the eye-sore that’s called a hotel. “I don’t work here.”
His flaps droop. The snake takes a deep breath, and slides the gate open, slithering in with determination in his … er… snake body.
You follow in silence.
The snake matches your pace. “Will you be a guest at this establishment as well?” he asks you. “Or were you given the same sssssuper secret mission?” Just like before, his tongue slithers out—what a funny little odd man.
Bangs grab your attention. When you focus your vision, you see an inky shadow servant striking a nail into broken wood. “Not at all,” you say slowly. “I’m just here to visit someone.”
His flaps open, and three pairs of eyes and a hat meet yours. “I am the great Sir Pentious!” he says with a proud hand on his puffed-up chest. “Inventor. Architect of destruction. Villain extraordinaire!”
You give him your name “….Doctor.”
“It is only the coward who attacks a battler of health.” His flaps droop as he sinks into himself. “You cannot be my rival, I’m afraid.”
“I guess that makes you brave,” you say, humming. The decorations for the hotel are rather dull. Drawn on the middle of the hill, a giant pentagram is etched on the ground. The flowers dwindle on the cliff edge, and do little to combat the grayness surrounding you. “What a shame to hear—I rather love good rivalries.”
The eyes on Sir Pentious’ hat brighten at the same time his own do as well. “Ssssso do I!”
One of the inky shadow servants waves at you.
You wave back.
Light streams from the glass doors. You blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden change of brightness. Circus-themed stained glass decorate the front entrance. One of the less tacky – but still tacky – designs of this hotel.
Sir Pentious taps the glass with the tips of his finger, clinking with each tap, and his eyes water in excitement. His nose crinkles when he takes a deep breath. You weren’t aware he even owned a nose. Sir Pentious fiddles with the flap of his hat, and bangs on the door.
Your smile strains after a minute of banging.
A young lady with long, white hair creaks the door open. You recognize her from the commercial.
Sir Pentious’ flap open and close with each word as he says, “Why, hello, my dear –”
A punch to the face is his reply.
“Oh dear!” you screech. Sir Pentious drops to the ground, and you kneel next to him, a steady hand on his slimy shoulders. “Have you no manners?”
This insolent girl points her spear and stomps a foot on Sir Pentious. She snarls, and her glare hardens.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious’ tongue slithers out as he holds a peace-sign. “I come in peacccccceeeee”
“What are you doing here?” Her spear inches closer.
“Vaggies,” another voice calls out. A blonde with a red pantsuit and a bowtie pokes her head, eyes in a squint. O-oh! You know this lady from the commercial. The Princess of Hell … Cady … Char …Charlie Morningstar! “What’s the problem?” Charlie’s eyes widen when she spots you and Sir Pentious, an honest smile drawn on her face. “Oh, hello again! And hello to you as well!”
“Can you please tell this insolent girl to get her food off this gentleman,” you spit, tilting your nose into the air. Your feathers sharpen when you bristle. “And your weapon away from my face.”
Vaggie takes her foot off Sir Pentious. She holds the spear close, but it’s away from your face.
Sir Pentious straightens into a stand, and the group prattles on.
No one bothers to help you. A huff escapes, and you brush the dirt off your skirt. Absolutely no manners. Insolent and ill-mannered.  Would Alastor stay in such a place?
You’ve never laid an eye on someone as unique as this Vaggie. Her hair patterns are similar to wings. It’s almost unheard of to see such a prominent ‘x’. Her flared eyelashes resemble a bird. It strikes you silly. Almost everyone in hell resembles a human body with animal characteristics hidden somewhere. This insolent girl doesn’t appear to have any of that – only miniscule feathers made to appear native to Hell.
“Absolutely!” Charlie exclaims to who you think is Angel Dust. (The porn-star, not the drug. Obviously.) Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile on his face. There’s a squeak every time he bobs his head. That hat of his looks nervous.  “This place is about second chances and who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.” Charlie takes a peek at you. “Oh, and this feathery…sheddy… and round-eyed woman.”
You do not shed.
You smile at Charlie, and give her your name, “…and I expect it to be used.”
Angel Dust whips to Vaggie. “Aren’t you supposed to protect this place?” he says and turns to you. “How are we even sure we can trust this lady – no offense, toots.”
“None taken,” you say, dryly.
Charlie’s eyes water when she turns to Vaggie, who easily relents with a sigh.
You’re thrust through the apple and circus-themed doors, squinting at the chandelier. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the design—it reminds you of those old rolled films. Charlie leads you and Sir Pentious further down the hall, all but pushing you in. Vaggie and Angel Dust lag a few steps behind.
Charlie waves her arms to go into an enthusiastic point. “So…this is our bar,” she says. Husk drops his drink, a scowl on his face, “and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after Sir Pentious broke the last one. And this is—”
Vaggie calms her down.
The bar clashes with the red wallpaper of the hotel. It’s almost as if someone just dropped it there, and etched it to the very wall. The wood is firm underneath your touch and feels exactly like what wood should feel.
You turn towards the bar and take your seat. Husk focuses on his drink. “Hello,” you say with a gentle voice that should not be mistaken for kindness. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”
Husk chokes and splatter out his drink, but you only smile at him. He coughs and his ears droop low. “Uh…yes,” he starts. “Good to see you as well.”
“There’s no need to be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
 “Good.”
You run your finger across the skeleton wrapped around the bar post. A memory tickles your brain. This is one of the many specimens you owned. It took one whole month to strip the muscle off its tight hold on the bones, and another month just to clean, bleach, and wire together. The heads above the bar sign were a gift to you, and the skeletons were your gift back.
The neural spine pokes your finger as you tap each one. “I see you’ve set up shop here.”
Husk scowls, taking another swig of his drink. “Not much of a choice.”
“And tell me,” you start, “how long have you been here?”
Husk doesn’t answer you.
Charlie calls your name, and waves you over. “Over here,” she says pointing to where Niffty plays with some kind of one-eyes cat, “we have our maid—Niffty!”
Niffty hops on Sir Pentious. “The bad boy is back!” she exclaims, pulling him closer, eyes wide and shaking. A bead of sweat drops from Sir Pentious’ hat. “Never leave me again.”
“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless….” Charlie prattles on.
“Hello, Niffty.” You smile at her.
She jumps off Sir Pentious, landing with a small ‘humph’, and strides to you with her pointy short legs. She calls out your name.
You squat, meeting her eye. “It’s great to see you again—Is Alastor forcing you here?”
Her eyes shine with an innocent type of glee. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps her hands. “I get to chase all the bugs here.” Nifftly leans closer to you, giggling. “Can I be strapped to your table again? I love it when you slice me open.”
 “Maybe next ti—”
Charlie grabs your arm, hauling you forward. “Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious…hehe…,” she tells him. Charlie keeps pulling you, only stopping when you stand before a grand staircase. “These two will be our special wonderful guests!”
Alastor does little to show you what he feels, there’s just that same empty grin.
He bought a new coat, you note. This new one has white streaks on the new collar and less stripes. Guess some things were more important than others.
You slip out of Charlie’s tight grasp. “I think you’re mistaken, my dear,” you say. “I’m not a guest— just a visitor.”
You hold your husband’s gaze and greet him.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
“It’s good to see you,” you say, a smile drawn on your lips. “How are you doing on this wonderful morning?”
Alastor turns to you, drops an item into his grocery basket, and blinks. “I am amazing!” he says. He grabs your hand with his gloved ones and shakes it. His hands are warmer than you expect them to be. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.”
You chuckle at him. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are.”
“Oh, how lovely!” He waves his fingers. “ are you on of my many fans?” His smile strains, and there, you see it, on the corner of his cheek. His nose flares and his smile takes the appearance of a snarl. Maybe it was the other way around.
“A bit,” you admit, adjusting your hold on the basket. “How are your stitches, Sir?”
His eyes widen—brown eyes, you note. “The good doctor!”
“I think you mean the good nurse.”
“Oh yes, yes,” he hums and inches the basket away from your gaze. “I’ve been taking my medicine, and replacing my dressing every three days, just like you said.”
“Good—that’s great to hear. No more accidents?”
“None!” He laughs. “And if one does happen, I’ll be sure to present you with an injury that is only hours old.”
A giggle slips through your lips. “That’s even better to hear,” you say. You clear your throat, tightening the hold on your basket. “I’d hate to take even more of your time. I’ll let you go on with your day.”
A firm grip on the basket handles keeps your feet planted on the glossy floor of the general store. “Not so fast, my dear. I think you still owe me,” he says. Your teeth bare into what you hope is a polite smile. “You promised to show me your marvelous embroidery the next time we meet! You’re not the type of lady to go back on your word now, are you?
“You sure do know how to put such ladies into a tight spot.”
Alastor laughs, breathy and light. “I assure you; I don’t mean to. I tend to get very excited about art
“Well, with you holding my integrity hostage, and the addition of such lovely enthusiasm, I find myself having trouble refusing.” You reach into your purse and pull out a clean handkerchief. “Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the general storm to be an art gallery, so this will have to do.”
And there it is again, that same breathy and light laughter. “They really do have everything in here
Alastor takes your handkerchief with steady enthusiasm, studying each stitch carefully. It’s one of your simpler designs—tiny flower bouquets scattered across the fabric. Your eyes are drawn to the contents of his basket: rope, strong acids, latex gloves, rolls of plastic wrap, and other such interesting items.
“You have such beautiful handiwork.”
“You can keep it if you wish,” you tell him. “I have thousands back home, and I’m always weak to such flattering compliments— a real boost to my ego.”
“Splendid!” Alastor slips the handkerchief into his coat. “I love receiving gifts from fans.”
You smile at him to hide your frown. You are not some fan-girl. “Of course.”
Alastor is following you.
The conversation ended several beats of silence ago, but he trails behind your every step. You skip the aisle where they sell produce, stop to grab some eggs, ask the butcher for 50g of chicken liver, and smile back when he smiles back. You sigh and lead Alastor to the end of the general store, and into an aisle.
You snatch a glass bottle of chemicals off the shelf—they really do have everything here. “Going for a hunt soon?” you ask, and read the label.
His smile brightens as he says, “Why yes! There was this wonderful prey that I spotted the other day, and I’m just dying to have his head hanging on my wall.”
You offer him the bottle. “You have a lovely coat. It would be a shame for it to be ruined by stains,” you say. “This always does the trick when dealing with the redder parts of my job.”
He takes the bottle from you.
“Take this as well,” you say and reach into your basket. “It’s the last bottle of 12% hydrogen peroxide in this store, but you need it more than I do. A ratio of fifty-fifty of this and a bit of hair developer in a bucket of water should brighten up your bones. Just let it soak for a day. Oh…and just in case, those two chemicals are safe to mix. You should avoid doing so, but an accident wouldn’t hurt you.”
Alastor offers his basket, and you drop the bottle along with the other hazardous substances. “You sound certain.”
“That is because I am.”
Fate has granted you a humorous shopping companion, and you decide to stop fighting it. Alastor follows you to the bread aisle.
You point to the top shelf. “Can you…?”
He drops the bread into your basket, and stares at you with what you think is curious tenacity.
“My father works as a butcher,” you say, sighing. “He prides himself on catching the venison he sells. We don’t believe in wasting a precious body, so we use it until there is nothing left to give. He came back from his own hunt and wanted to add another antler to his display
Alastor hums. “Won’t you need these then?”
“There’s still a bit leftover sitting in his workshop. I just came to get an extra bottle.”
Alastor continues to follow.  “Do you often aid your father in his work?”
“Not as frequent as when I was a teen, but I still aid him when I have the time to do so,” you say. “It’s how I got to be so normal around a knife —the sharp ones are the best, they cut right through the skin, and with enough force, the bones as well. I keep a little collection of bones at home.”
“Such interesting hobbies you have.”
You pick up two coffee bags and hum. “Thank you.”
His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him and reach out to straighten it. Alastor jerks away and spins to reach into the shelf behind you. “I rather detest owing favors, and you have done me two,” he says, offering you an entirely different brand of coffee beans. “I suggest you try this one. It’s flavors are far richer.”
You offer your basket and Alastor drops it right in.
You eye his basket once more. “Will that be all you’re purchasing?”
He nods, smiling at you.
You smile back.
Well, isn’t this just lovely? Well-dressed gentlemen really are your favorite.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Charlie whips her head, mouth wide as she stares at you and then at Alastor. Angel Dust has an arm on his hips, his brows furrowed and mouth quirked to the side an awkward but rather cute frown. Sir Pentious’ hat squints at you with what you assume is confusion—you can’t really tell. Sir Pentious’s tongue sticks out of his bewildered and crooked frown. “Oh! How nice,” Charlie says after a beat. “So, you two know each other?”
“Partners,” you say
“Friends,” Alastor says
Your smile strains as you say, “To be called a friend by the Radio Demon is quite the honor.” Alastor wipes his monocle with a proud puff.
Angel Dust whistles, leaning on the railing with the first set of arms crossed, and the second propped on his hip. “Didn’t think Freak would be the type to have friends.”
“Neither did I!” You say with a loud laugh. “Well, that’s what I am – a f̵̼̎r̴͔̃i̶̦̍e̶͕͠ṋ̸̀d̶͚̋.” You smoothen your puffed-up feathers. “Apologies.”
More introductions are done. Charlie insists on giving Sir Pentious his first lesson on apology. It goes about as well as you think.
Charlie winces a bit “….Ooooookay,” she says and inhales to plaster a huge smile. “Why don’t we… uh… take a look at the kitchen!”
Angel Dust takes one look at Charlie’s enthusiasm, winces, and says he’s getting a drink.
Charlie’s death grip on Sir Pentious stays firm as you trudge to the kitchen. She stalls at every painting to explain its history, and introduces every crack on the wall, showing it off with an enthusiastic glee. Even the water-stained wallpaper gets its own special moment during the tour. (Where is that ill-mannered girl when you need her?)
You lag a few steps behind. “Alastor…”, you say as a greeting.
Alastor matches your pace, using his microphone as a cane. With the very tip of his fingers, he plucks a stray feather off your hair with a coy smile that reaches from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I’ve been fairing these last few years,” he says, spinning that microphone of his and waving his hand like some kind of street performer.
“Has it really been that long?”
“Yes, I know I’ve been absent for some time,” he starts. “It’s nothing serious; I assure you. It’s nothing I cannot handle as well.”
 “My goodness, and here I thought you were occupied at work.” Your teeth flash when you smile. “But in any case, it’s quite… kind… of you to soothe what little worry this friend might have for you.” Alastor and his microphone laugh at you, but you hum with satisfaction when his eyes narrow into a glare.
Charlie and Sir Pentious wave their hands, calling you from across the hall, and you hasten your steps.
The kitchen intimidates you. So many large and metallic machines. You’re sure it would be a living hell should you ever need to operate such an unorthodox set of appliances.
Copper-red tables fill the space, and similar colored cabinets stick to the wall. Such peculiar stoves they have in this establishment. There seems to be no space for the gas tank, nor a gas burner, just some flat glass with weird markings. You prefer the appliances stashed at your home.
“This…,” Charlie starts, winding her arms to a point, “…is the kitchen!”
Sir Pentious’ flaps extend, his arms rocking with excitement. “Such lovely metallic inventions.” He slithers to counter with a dip that appears to mimic some kind of skin. There’s some type of yellow liquid. “This bubbly torture deviccceeee is my favorite.”
“Uhhhhhh…I love that you love the kitchen appliance,” she says with an honestly gentle smile. “But that’s actually an oil fryer.” Charlie crosses her arm into a big ‘x’. “But no torturing is done here, no siree.”
“What a peculiar shape for an oil fryer to be,” you say, taking a look. Alastor glances over your shoulder to take a peek as well. “And there’s so much metal around—did you run out of paint, perhaps?”
Charlie frowns, her shoulder dropping low. “I’d love to add different colors to the machine, but Vaggie says it would take up too much money and time.”
Her frown lasts a second before she’s smiling again.
 “Oh oh oh! You should take a look around. See if there’s anything you might want to add.” Charlie drags you towards one of the cabinets at the back. “We each have a shelf dedicated to our own snacks, but I always love to leave cookies on the communal snack pantry.”
Charlie prattles on, introducing each section of the cabinet. You watch Alastor warily when he shows his teeth. He wiggles his fingers across the air, reaching towards the shelf where Charlie just mentioned Vaggie storing her personal snacks. You slam the cabinet door before he reaches them.
Soft static fills the kitchen air.
“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Take a look around – I know some species of Sinners have specific dietary needs.” She props a hand on her chin. “Like Angel! He can’t seem to be able to have any milk—I wonder why? But he just keeps drinking it anyway for some reason.”
Does the Princess of Hell not know what Lactose Intolerance is? Maybe because she’s never lived as a human. It’s quite humorous, you suppose. A hell-born trying to guide a human, with little to no insight about humanity. Could this be the reason why she’s so naively optimistic?
Sir Pentious’ smile widens, and so does his flap. “You’re… giving…me permission to poke around?”
“Er…yes?”
You open a random cabinet door, and huh…
On the shelf, towards the back, you have the same set of spices in your own kitchen. One of the bottles here has its label stained and fraying at the edges. Another bottle is nearing empty, and the corner of the cap has been chipped off. There was a time, when your own set of spices was stained with oil, and its label frayed because of the constant picking to the edges.
Yesterday, you threw out a set of unopened bottles of spices, its seal still clinging to the caps and brimming with unused flavor, and replaced it with the same set of sealed spices. It’s a waste of your money to keep throwing out something that you never use, but…but…you find it in your grocery basket every single time.
Alastor closes the cabinet with a gentle click.
Your smile fades, and he holds your gaze.
“You are shedding all over my kitchen floors.” Alastor presents you with a bundle of your feathers bunched up on his palm. His grin mocks you.
You turn away, heading where Charlie and Sir Pentious converse. You do not shed.
Alastor pops out of your shadow, towering over you as he inches closer. “Long day?” he says with a hum, that smile still on his face. “You don’t usually start molting until the mid-summer.”
“Oh yes,” you say with a hum, that frown still on your face. “This day has been quite long. How very generous of you to check up on this friend of yours.”
He holds the feathers he’s collected, examining them with a careful eye. “With this rate, you’ll be able to gift a whole pillow.”
Your frown deepens. “Lovely,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure to do so.”
Alastor twirls his microphone and lands it with a soft thunk. He studies you for a second. “Rosie’s last husband got eaten by a shark,” he says. “Not even a loan shark—just a proper dead shark. She swore vengeance on the creature for taking a bite before she had a chance to.”
“What?” you say, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what happened to him? She would be so vague about it when I ask.”
Alastor draws a line along his face, mimicking a smile with his fingers. “Much better, indeed.”
Charlie insists on showing the view from the top of the Hotel. Her arms cross around your own as she chatters about everyone and everything. It’s refreshing to meet a soul as honest as hers.
The elevator ride is painfully slow. The music strains your ears, and this battered metal death box jerks with every floor.
Sir Pentious and his hat scowl at the ‘absolutely inferior ssssmmelting of this handle, Charlie’ and ‘this piss poor wiring. The endsss are not aligned to the proper sssssafety guidelineeeesss’ or something.
Charlie listens in on every word, nodding to indicate that she hears each and everyone. It makes you smile. Alastor picks at your stray feathers with the tip of his fingers, preening the areas you have difficulty reaching.
Moments too late, the elevator doors open with that heavenly ding.
“The view up here is helltastically a-mazing!” Charlie informs the group. “Alastor, you often hide up here or inside the radio tower. It’s really good, right?”
Alastor switches his hold on the microphone, swinging to catch it. “Quite helltastic indeed!” he says. “ I get to see the whole city underneath my very feet.”
Sir Pentious nods. “I, too, would love to sssseee the city underneath me!”
Alastor swings a door open, gesturing for the group to enter like a gentleman.  Charlie whispers an audible ‘awww’ at the sight and saunters right in. Sir Pentious follows along, slithering behind her.
He shuts the door when you take a step forward, separating you from Charlie and Sir Pentious.
There’s still that never ending smile on his lips as Alastor strides to the other end of the hallway, playing with his microphone. You follow behind in silence. Alastor opens a different door, and this time, you step through.
Alastor closes the door, leaving you and him together, alone, on this flimsy balcony. He beams at you, taking a step forward—
You slap him.
Radio static glitches from his microphone. There, on the corner of his cheek, you see the strain in his smile. His eyes harden into a glare, his nostrils flare, and his smile takes on the appearance of a snarl.
The air around you starts to gray with static. Symbols carve themselves into the space.
You slap him again, staring down at him.
“Is that all you came to do?” Alastor says to you with a low snarl, but the symbols dissolve and his antlers shrink.
You turn towards the view, propping a hand on your chin. “Such harsh words for a friend,” you say with a sarcastic smile. “It’s a wonder why you don’t have more with such a dazzling personality. At any rate, it’ll be impossible to find yourself a wife.”
His eyes twitch, and Alastor strikes the ground with his microphone. “Well, consider it an honor,” he says, inching closer, mimicking your smile. “Not many can say such words to me, much less be able to strike my flesh
“Maybe they should—someone certainly has to.”
Alastor still has a smile—he always has a smile. You watch as his eyes morph into radio dials, and the absolute audacity of that man to look at you like that.
Your feathers sharpen and crack at the sight. “D̷̝̈́o̷̞͊n̷̟̂'̷̗̏ť̵͔ ̴̱̀f̷̳̓u̴͍̓c̷̛͕ḳ̵͝ ̴̲̽w̸̞̑í̵̞t̴̼̐ḥ̷͝ ̵̫͌m̸̻̔e̸̡͘!— you never have, so don’t start. Don’t test me—not today, my deerest,” you say, hissing at him. 
“What is it that you want, exactly?” he says, glancing down at you. “Unless you are a child, I expect you to use your words.”
“You know I’m not just some friend — you do not allow yourself to make such connections. We’re partners,” you tell him, and you don’t know why you remind him when he should already know. Was it in fear that he forgot? “But you left without as much as a word.”
“Was it that I left? Or was it that I left you?” Alastor says with casualty as if to show you such dismissal, and oh…yes, your husband can be a cruel man, indeed. Time and sweet smiles made you forget.
You rub your hands on your face, taking one deep breath. “I want what I deserve—an explanation,” you say. “That’s all I need as your wife.”
It’s his silence that makes you turn away. 
“I see…” Your face falls. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to seek you out. A fool’s errand.”
You study the sinners below. The whole city really can be seen from underneath your very feet. (You ignore the trembling of your fists. You’re a doctor, for fucks sake. Your hands don’t tremble…at least, they never have before.) 
Hesitant, but gentle touches pick at your feathers. Alastor preens you with warm hands. “You are not a fool, my love,” he says. “I would not be yours if such were the case.”
You harden your heart for you cannot let this man see the cracks. “This is not what I wish to hear,” you say, voice steady.
Alastor does not answer you.
“Will you just stay silent every time?”
“Yes.”
Finally, you meet his gaze. You hold it as much as he holds yours. “ There is not a thing in this world that you do not do without reason,” you say slowly. “However,  I’m not sure if your silence is because you cannot or if it’s because you will not explain yourself to me. Which is it?”
There is nothing on his face that you can read, just a small steady smile that tells you nothing. “I will not.”
“I know you, my deerest, and I know that you’ve never once led me astray.” Your grip on the railing tightens painfully. This day has been long. “Then all I need is your word that you will return to me with that smile of yours when you’ve accomplished what you need to do.”
Alastor smiles at you, twirling his microphone. “We can even shake on it.”
You shake your head. “This is not a deal,” you say. “This is your wife demanding that you do so.”
“Then it shall be done,” Alastor says, inching close enough for his warmth to spread.  He turns to you and pokes his cheeks to indicate a smile. "You look much more radiant with one."
You bare your teeth at him, giving a dry smile. “Much better?”
“Indeed.”
You study the sinners below once more, but this time your hands stay steady next to Alastor’s own. Well, Charlie was correct, the view is helltastic. The entertainment district blinds you, but only for a second. And when you sharpen your vision, you can faintly make out acid clouds forming on the outskirts of the city. You should have grabbed an umbrella on your way out.
“I heard you on the radio today,” you say.
He glances at you, his smile widening ever so slightly with smugness. “And you came all this way for me?”
“Well, that is what good friends do for each other.”
Alastor points his nose to the air with a huff.
“I only jest, my deerest,” you say, chuckling at him. “ I came all the way here to see if I’ve been widowed a second time, or just dumped like a common rag.”
“Is that so?”Alastor hums with dissatisfaction. “I’m sure you mentioned something about not noticing such a long disappearance.”
You hold his gaze, inching your hand to cup his cheek. You stop inches above his skin, and your palm hovers enough for Alastor to feel the warmness you hold on your hands. “Don’t pout, my deer,” you tell him, softly, oh so very soft as you caress the air. “Of course, I noticed your absence.” 
You clap your hands together with the brightest and most innocent smile you can muster.
“But if I told you that, my deerest,” you start, “I feared that big head of yours would implode if I fed your ego.”
Alastor laughs, and his real voice bleeds in as he does. “That humor of yours has been my most wonderful companion all these years.”
You smile with satisfaction. “My, my, you make such fine compliments.”
His smile relaxes. “I do, indeed!”
“Just as you say that my humor makes a fine companion,” you say as you laugh, bright and heavy, “that smile of yours has been mine.”
A knock breaks the moment.
The door swings open, slow and hesitant. Charlie pokes her head, and her hair droops to the sideways. Behind her, Sir Pentious waves at you. You wave back.
“Oooooooohhhh….yikes,” Charlie says, shrinking deeper into the door. “Am I interrupting? I could just go an—”
“Not at all my dear,” you say. “Come right in. You have such a lovely view, and things like this are better when shared.”
Charlie swings the door wider, sauntering right in, and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “You could live here as well!” she says. Behind her, Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “We accept everyone.”
You flicker your gaze to Alastor. “I already have a home,” you find yourself saying. “And this place is far too close to the city. So much honking and blasting aren’t good for my ears.”
Charlie pouts, but she doesn’t press you.
The view is better when shared. Charlie points at every detail and explains everything you see. The sky darkens to a red, and too soon, it’s time to leave.
There’s a warm, but firm, hand resting on your back when you walk out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. Alastor keeps his hands steady, even when you reach the common room.
Vaggie is the first to greet your group—well, it’s more appropriate to say she greets Charlie, and you just happen to be there. There’s a bag by her feet. “I was able to find the costumes you need for the exercise,” she says. “Even the giant lollipop is here.”
Charlie squeals. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Her excited gaze filters to you. “I have this wonderful game in mind, and then we could fo a bit of some of that good ol’ roleplay.” Angel Dust quirks a smile from the couch. “You should totally sta—”
“I’m afraid not,” Alastor says, drumming his fingers on his microphone. “I think it’s time for our visitor to head home. She’s had quite a long day.”
“Oh, of course. No worries!” Charlie says, giving you a bright smile—a real genuine and honest smile. “Feel free to come by anytime. The Hazbin Hotel’s doors will always be open should you change your mind.”
Vaggie scratches her face. “Before you go, I want to apologize for this afternoon,” she says. “It wasn’t right of me to be so hostile—I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, my dear. I understand,” you say quickly, ignoring the static behind you. “You were protecting something you cared about. I find great value in those who do.”
Vaggie smiles, and maybe she’s not too bad after all. “Thank you.”
From the couch, Angel Dust props his legs and waves at you. “And you’re welcome to open these doors any day.”
Alastor leads you to the door. You wave back at Niffty and Sir Pentious, whose eyes water as he frowns. Alastor’s hand stays firm as you trudge down the hill, past the rusted gate, into the city, and to the correct bust stop.
“You sure know how to find the most interesting groups of people, my deer,” you say. “Charlie and that hotel of hers are wonderful.”
Alastor adjusts his monocle. “Well, you know me. I see potential, and I follow it wherever it leads.”
“Should I be worried?” you say, chuckling. “The last time you saw potential, it ended with us married.”
“Not at all, my love.”
“You should continue to stay at the hotel,” you find yourself saying. “There’s just something about it—I think you’ll pick up quite a lot from your time there.”
His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him, and reach out to straighten it. Alastor inches closer. The fabric is smooth underneath your touch. There’s stray lint on the shoulder of his coat, and you brush that away. You grab the lapes and adjust its fit, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingers.
“Much better?” he asks.
“Indeed,” you say, softly.
“I will see you soon,” he says, and you hear the unspoken promise and question hidden beneath his words.
“Good.”
Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of fingers. (And oh…oh. His gloves are off, and his hands are warmer than ever) He presses his lips on your cheek.
That blasted bus arrives too soon. You step inside, but turn to your husband and say, “Next time, when you disappear for several years, I expect to be informed and not just left with a vague note,” you say with a huff. “And when you return, I also expect to be the first to be informed.”
“Of course.”
“See to it that you keep your word.”
The bus door closes, and you take your seat. You smile to yourself and lean back on the crusty bus fabric. Patting your pocket, you take out a single gold band, slipping it on your finger.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
That habit of recklessness in moments of excitement was something your father hoped you’d grow out of. Thinking things through never really was one of your many strengths when such an exhilarating opportunity presents itself.
You scold yourself for not double-checking for gloves. Measure twice, cut one, and all that. But no matter, you’ll push through as always, clawing and digging to unearth the treasure left behind.
Your scalpel fits into your palms. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.
You sigh, breathy and exhilarated, and begin.
‘First, do no harm’
But this…this does not harm a single living being.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Next Part: |Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should Be Trusted| If you guys know who Octavia and Stolas are, that's what I imagine when I think about the reader's hair. Also, maybe some of you noticed, but I'm very relaxed when it comes to formatting my writing. Its why I use quite a lot of ellipses and em dashes and utilize italics and spaces. But the one thing I was very strict about was not to use the word, "miss". So there are no "You miss..." and "I miss..." But the words are there and spoken beneath actions and thoughts, hidden and unspoken, but known. My inbox is always open because I'd like to know what your favorite unspoken "I miss you" is/are. I have my own favorite ones as well.
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batboyblog · 4 months
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Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #3
Jan 26-Feb 2 2024
The House overwhelmingly passed a tax deal that will revive the expanded Child Tax Credit, this will effect 16 million American children and lift 400,000 out of poverty in the first year. The deal also supports the building of 200,000 housing units over the next two years, and provides tax relief for communities hit by disasters.
The Biden Administration has begun negotiations on drug prices for Medicare. Earlier this year the administration announced it would negotiate for the first time directly with drug manufacturers on the prices of 10 common medications. This week they sent their opening offers to the companies. The program is expected to save Medicare and enrollees billions over dollars over the long term and help push down drug prices for everyone.
The Department of Transportation has green lit $240 Million to modernize air ports across the country. Air Ports in 37 states will be able to get much needed updates and refurbishment.
The Biden Administration announced 10 sites across America as sites for innovation investment. They will receive up to 2 billion dollars each over the next 10 years. The goal is to stimulate economic growth and innovation in semiconductor manufacturing, clean energy, sustainable textiles, climate-resilient agriculture, regenerative medicine, and more.
The State Department reviews options for recognizing Palestinian Statehood. While as of yet there's been no policy change this review of options is a major shift in US diplomatic thinking which has long opposed Palestinian Statehood and shows a seriousness of reported Biden plans to push for Statehood as part of a post-war Israel-Saudi normalization deal.
President Biden imposes sanctions on Israeli settlers who have engaged in violence against Palestinians and peace activists. This marks the first time the US has leveled sanctions against Israelis and sets up a standard that could see the whole settlement movement cut off from the US financial system
the Department of Energy has tentatively agreed to a $1.5 Billion dollar loan to help reopen a Michigan nuclear power plant. This would mark the first time a closed nuclear plant has been brought back online. Closed in 2022 it's hoped that it could reopen in time to be generating power in late 2025. This is part of Biden's plan to decarbonize the electricity grid by 2035.
the Internal Revenue Service launched a program to allow tax fillers file for free directly with the government. In 2024 its a pilot program limited to 12 states, but plans for it to be nation wide by tax day 2025
The Department of Health and Human Services announced $28 million in grants to help with the treatment of substance use disorder, including a program aimed at pregnant and postpartum women, and expanded drug court aimed at directing people into treatment and out of the criminal justice system.
The Department of Energy announced $72 million for 46 hydroelectric projects across 19 states. This marks the single largest investment in Hydropower in US history.
The Senate confirmed President Biden's 175th federal judge. Biden has now appointed more federal judges in his first term in office than President Obama did in his, however still lags behind Trump's 186 judges. For the first time in history a majority of a President's nominees are not white men, 65% of them are women and 65% are people of color, President Biden has appointed more black women to judgeships than any administration in history.
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goldenbomb · 4 months
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I also have to follow these listed rules every time I hit the following number of notes. So please stop spamming the comments!
300 notes: Use a medium plug now
600 notes: Spend $20 on sissy clothes (must be pink)
900 notes: Wear panties 24/7 from now on
1200 notes: Spend $40 on sissy clothes (must be pink)
1500 notes: Sit on a 6-inch dildo once week for 30 min
1800 notes: Listen to 1 audio file of sissy hypno before bed
2100 notes: Wear androgynous or feminine clothes at home from now on
2400 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week
2700 notes: I can cum only once a month
3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min
3300 notes: Wear androgynous or feminine clothing in public from now on
3600 notes: Wear only slutty or pink sissy clothing at home
3900 notes: I have to wear a corset under my clothes everyday
4200 notes: Use a large plug now
4500 notes: Use a smaller cage
4800 notes: I can only watch/listen to girly media, anything masculine or geared towards males is banned
5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min
5400 notes: Listen to sissy hypno every time I do anal
5700 notes: I can only cum when I'm riding a dildo and it's changed to 1 cum every 3 months
6000 notes: Make a Twitter account archiving proof and progress
6300 notes: Every week either post proof/update pics of locked chastity, gif of current dildo riding, gif of current plug insertion, and pics of current sissy outfit that I'm being made to wear from these tasks
6600 notes: I have to permanently use she/her pronouns
6900 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min
7200 notes: Lock myself in ballet heels for 3 hours every day
7500 notes: From now on edge every day for 2 hours
7800 notes: Use a smaller cage
8100 notes: Every 3 days I have to use a chastity cage with a sounding rod
8400 notes: Buy the most embarrassing humiliating sissy pink dress I can find (with all the ruffles and it locks when zipped up)
8700 notes: I can only wear a dress or skirt in public from now on
9000 notes: Get Started on Estrogen
9300 notes: Every 3 days either post proof/update pics of locked chastity, gif of current dildo riding, gif of current plug insertion, and pics of current sissy outfit that I'm being made to wear from these tasks
9600 notes: I now have to use a sounding chastity cage from now on
9900 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 5 times a week for 1 hour
10200 notes: Once a week, I have to replace my plug with a dildo while I'm out in public for the day
10500 notes: I can only cum once a year
10800 notes: Buy a fucking machine
11100 notes: Buy and use sounding rods 3 times a week for 30 min
11400 notes: Buy breast/nipple pumps and use it twice a week to increase the size
11700 notes: Put on an inverse chastity cage from now on and no more edging or unlocking
12000 notes: Start an OF
12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cocks
12600 notes: I can only cum from anal
12900 notes: (I need ideas)
13200 notes: Use an XL plug now
13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy
13800 notes: glue the lock shut, flush the key down the toilet, the only way I'm getting out now is if I hit 15000 notes
14100 notes: (I need ideas)
14400 notes: (I need ideas)
14700 notes: Get nipple piercings
15000 notes: Bottom surgery (My Life is Over). However I have to spend at least 25% of the entire chastity sentence in a cage before I get bottom surgery to prolong this even longer.
Please just scroll past this and don't interact with this post at all! I like my current life!
If you want to support feel free soy sent me stuff from my wishlist.
This post will LOCK IN on March 24 2024
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reiniesainyo · 3 months
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IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 02
02 | WELCOME TO NY previous | next | masterfile
SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)
A/N. wow actual content who knew! i give some tidbits about rina and lukes dynamic as well for funsies (takes place at the start of the season premiere to probably episode 4-5 ish)
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liked by iamcharliebushnell, walker.scobell, and 322,778 others thelnarchive best people to star in my first show with actually
walker.scobell pov: you at the end of this sentence 🤓👆 ↳ thelnarchive that** ↳ leahsavajeffries destroyed him with one word that's insane
user1 she's so gorgeous it's killing me
user2 her photo dumps are so cute it's so RAHHHHH ↳ user3 thank you yn for keeping us fed
iamcharliebushnell no photo creds? thats crazy...... ↳ thelnarchive 📸: charlie bushnell  ↳ iamcharliebushnell thank you 😁
user4 she's so pretty, i would go to hell and back for her. she could be sent to the underworld and i would go and traverse the entire underworld for her and bring her back, have hades let me walk out with her only if i don't turn my back and bet you baby i'm no orpheus because you're coming home ↳ user5 this is so real but also what the fuck
dior.n.goodjohn PRETTIEST IN CAMP HALFBLOOD ↳ thelnarchive NO YOU!
iamcharliebushnell for everyone's information, she yapped for like the 2 hour makeup and hair session ↳ thelnarchive you weren't interested in the cultural impact of feminist retellings of mythology? 😔 ↳ iamcharliebushnell i didn't say i didn't listen to every bit
user6 yn ln being a yapper and charlie being a listener was not in my 2024 bingo card but it is pleasantly accepted ↳ user7 the chemistry is kind of crazy
bellie 💋 @G1LLMOREGRLS theres like less than 3 minutes of luke and rina screen time but the way they look at each other is insane. ik luke visiting rina before leaving was implied and like them him contacting her even after the attempt too i still want to see some because the potential angst is so insane 🗨 19 comments 🔁 129 retweets ❤️ 707 likes
user1 "i lost luke three times in my life." if they remove this it better be for something even more heartbreaking
user2 honestly truth i'm manifesting so hard to see some of their iris messages like i can just imagine it ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS oh my fucking god that's so true, i want to see luke begging her to come with him and then her begging him to change his mind
user3 i want the new seasons to come sooner because i trust in rick's capability to give us what we want 💳💳💳 ↳ user4 i trust in the editor's to make what rick gives us even better brah ↳ user5 what if i said lascotellan to a hozier song
user6 the show ate with levitating as the replacement for poker face in e6 so i'm expecting a tragic song for their scenes too ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS dare i say we get a scene of luke regretting his actions juxtaposed with a scene of him and rina arguing with her telling him to silver springs by fleetwood mac ↳ user6 LUKE AND RINA ARGUING OVER HIS ACTIONS TO SILVER SPRINGS. YOU'RE A FUCKING GENIUS OOMF ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS luke thinking about her constantly when he thinks abt why he shouldn't have done it is so "you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you"????
user7 YOU'RE SO CORRECT FOR THIS ‼️‼️ i'm so insane over them, tragic greek couple of the century
user8 i fear no one will ever beat rina saying she wanted to go to the underworld to get him back but deciding not to and letting him repent in elysium or try for reincarnation
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liked by thelnarchives, dior.n.goodjohn, and 350,232 others iamcharliebushnell hanging out with the muse
thelnarchives you call me "the muse" so often i'm starting to think you don't know my first name anymore.... 🤨🤨🤨 ↳ iamcharliebushnell 😔 i would never do that to you muse ↳ thelnarchives i'm gonna start calling you traitor. ↳ user1 wat why would she call him traitor ↳ user2 oh you sweet summer child
user3 picture 3 is so cute i love her so much !!! and charlie's there too i guess
dior.n.goodjohn why are you hanging out with MY girlfriend ↳ iamcharliebushnell you snooze you lose :/
walker.scobell you owe me like 2 meals from our past bets and you keep saying your busy but obviously you're not??? ↳ iamcharliebushnell hanging out with the muse is a trip priority, man 🤷
user4 i'm obsessed with how charlie calls her muse they're so i want to Bite them. ↳ user5 he ate with the pet name
user6 that's actually me in the second photo guys
user7 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HER HAND PLACEMENT IN THE THIRD PHOTO??? ↳ user8 girlie's just scratching her own cat
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