#I posted this early because i've had some shitty news and i wanted nice things again

[degenderates]

ok fuck it. ranking covers of a home at the end of the world by michael cunningham because guys some of these covers slap and some of them are the ugliest shit i've ever seen. this is the kind of post i would have used to make back in my tiktok days but there's no way im opening that app by my own will again. so mutuals read this post.

last place/ugliest cover first.

the stock photo. literally what is going on here. the font is practically unreadable and makes no sense. the image itself looks like someone pulled it right off shutterstock. its giving my middle school vsco account. why are there three women on the front? the story is primarily about two guys and one girl. i mean there is a second female pov but she's not part of the polycule. font is clean but ugly. bye.

the movie poster one. i have so much beef with this cover, even as a movie poster. they literally took three screenshots of the movie and overlayed them into a weird collage type thingy. why is colin farrell standing like that?? why is the character jonathan in the back?? it's giving disney channel. it's giving early 00s--in a bad way. no rights at all. 🍅🍅🍅

the perks of being a wallflower one. i guess there was a craze for late 90s books to have typewriter font in the middle of a minimalistic cover?? i hate minimalistic, abstract covers. you could choose to tell us something about the book but no. here is an orange circle and a black circle. okay.

the modern cover (i assume). i like the watercolor and how it's not too busy but there's still a discernable image (unlike a CERTAIN cover i just discussed...🙄). the font kind of fucks up the whole thing though. it doesn't match the vibes of the book at all. it's very new-adult-romance and just feels off. because yeah technically the book is about new adults and their relationship drama but it's not this...cute.

the uk cover (?). the quality of this image sucks but i literally could only find it on abebooks.co.uk so. it's not bad, just really busy. the font has a shadow so it can be readable but that makes it feel even more cluttered. i like how the angel statue makes an appearance, but all the colors and how bright it is just makes it feel like a little too much.

the color burned one. honestly while i like the vibes i'm not quite sure who this lady is supposed to be. that looks like a wing so she's probably the white angel statue, but she looks too human. and angels aren't different colors like that. i like how this is simple and black, very classy. but ultimately it doesn't really make a lot of sense.

the grey one. this is simple, but nice. it's dark but with light shining behind the house--a nice balance of hardships but also hope, which fits the story. there's a swingset, which makes sense given the story is about growing up, in a sense. and there might have been a swingset at the actual house in the book. can't remember. the font is clean. a little sci-fi/futuristic for my taste but that's alright i guess. this is the cover i have. i guess i should be lucky it's not one of the previous ones but i really wish i had the next one...

the first edition. look it's classy. it's gothic. the angel is there. the sky looks like it could be ohio or nyc. there's powerlines. the font is stylish but not over the top. it's not too bright. it's slaying. one of my favorite things about this cover is how it emphasizes the angel, because the book itself was written around michael cunningham's seminal short story "white angel" which i have talked about a lot on this blog. it also is in a similar pose to the actual angel statue it was based on, the black angel of iowa city (shown below). i'm a fan. i wish i had this cover soooo bad<333

~~~

overall thoughts: most of these covers are kind of shitty lol. this book deserves better</3 if one of y'all live in the US, dont care much about covers, and want a free copy of this book i'll send my copy (the grey cover) to you for free just so i can buy the top ranked one on ebay lol. anyways if u got to the end and found this at all entertaining, tell me so. this was fun to do except when tumblr deleted the whole thing and i had to remake the entire post!!! lol!!!! and y'all should read this book because it's very good and very messy queer and i adore it deeply. <3

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Okay, quick Taskmaster liveblogging this week. I’m fucking exhausted after a long and shitty week at work, I got home from work just after 7 PM, made myself some food, and I am now very pleased to get to sit down with a meal and the new Taskmaster episode. I do not have the energy to do what I sometimes do with these, which is take notes constantly through the whole episode. But I know I’ll want to say some things about it. So I will use this document as a thing to write down quick little things when they occur to me occasionally, rather than trying to cover the whole episode. It’s nice to have this back in my life for nine more weeks (well, eight more now, I guess).

Thoughts on Taskmaster s16e02, written as I watch it:

- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the funniest introductions are the ones where Greg pretends that Alex is right-wing for no reason.

- “Best sign” – I’m amazed that wasn’t taken already. You’d think Taskmaster would be out of the one-word ones, which is why they have to use “most < adjective > < noun >”, instead of just “most < adjective >” thing or “best < noun >”. But there’s still more stuff to do. I like that one, open-ended enough to leave room for interpretation, but still some solid boundaries they’ll have to stay within.

- It feels a bit like cheating for Sue Perkins to use her celebrity stories to garner points against people who just can’t compete with a story of the time Claudia Winkleman helped her steal a sign from the BBC. But I did enjoy that one.

- God, do I ever want to go to the British Library with Sam Campbell and steal shit. I think he wins in terms of aspirational stories, I’d rather rob the British Library with Sam Campbell than rob the BBC studios with Claudia Winkleman.

- I have seen the first three seasons of Meet the Richardsons (did not watch season 4 this year and I think I’ll probably leave it there, but I’m not sorry I watched it), and it’s definitely not the best show in the world, but one of my favourite parts was how cool that pub looked. That’s aspirational, it’s exactly the sort of thing I’d do if I had the money that they have. Make a full pub in your backyard where you can get the nice feeling of a pub but without the drawbacks, such as people you don’t know being in it and having to commute there and back (particularly bad, after drinking). Fucking lovely. The Jon Richardson I got attached to from radio 8 Out of 10 Cats/early Catsdown hasn’t existed for a long time, and that’s probably for the best and I’m glad he’s gone off to be happy even if I don’t find him as entertaining anymore, but I did enjoy seeing that pub in Meet the Richardsons like an example of success. Good for him. Nice prize, Lucy. You’re right, there is a warm feeling to it.

- Sammy C bringing his own equipment to the tasks. Following on from a couple of things he did last week, establishing a pattern of him doing things as a bit, because they are comedic, but also they happen to possibly give him an advantage in points. As someone who is backing him like he’s a sports team to win this season, I approve of this pattern.

- Listen, strange women standing around in Chiswick pulling on facsimile swords is no basis for a system of government. But I don’t know, maybe we should let Lucy Beaumont try running the UK for a year and see where they end up.

- I thought I wasn't going to do screenshots in this episodes, because these posts take so much longer when I stop to copy screenshots. But I have to say, the first proper laugh came from Sue throwing away the comment "I mean I want to go Widdicombe", then stopping, realizing what she'd just said, and you can watch the answer hit her:

Aw, I've just remembered the existence of that panel show hosted by Sue Perkins with Josh Widdicombe and Richard Osman as team captains, Insert Name Here. Slightly flimsy premise, uneven guests and execution, but three people who are so good at being on panel shows that it entertained me all the way through anyway.

I watched that show about 2 years ago when I was mainly into panel shows and thought Josh Widdicombe was a brilliant TV comedian who just happened to make not-great stand-up - now that I'm more into stand-up than panel shows, that flaw seems more significant than it used to. Also, I've given up on The Last Leg because they've gone all pro-monarchy but also if I'm honest they've been leaning toward the bland centre for a while (though I maintain that it had some years of being much better than that). But there was a time when Josh Widdicombe was one of my favourites of all these comedians, I still think he's very good on panel shows, so I'm enjoying his little cameo here (I did guess that Widdicombe was the answer as soon as Sue said "Devon", because what the hell else is from Devon?). Nice to honour both the first Taskmaster champion, and the first two-time champion.

On the subject of Sue Perkins and Josh Widdicombe existing in the same universe, aside from their endearing panel show Insert Name Here, remember that time when Sue Perkins went on The Last Leg wearing a Patti Smith shirt and one time she messed up her hair for no reason and I had to save that as a gif because I think it might be the cure for female heterosexuality?

- Watching this task for the second time, now that I know the answer. Obviously the foot that says “Greg” is a reference to Josh getting Greg’s name tattooed on his foot during season 1. “Devon” is where he’s from, as he talks about every time he’s on TV. But how does he make his hair smart? Is it just a reference to the fact that for a long time he was known for a particular haircut? Am I forgetting about something in the Josh Widdicombe canon (I say “forgetting” rather than “not knowing” because I have seen a hell of a lot of the things he’s done, including hundreds of hours of The Last Leg, arguably too many hours of The Last Leg…)? You’d think it would just be a reference to something he did on Taskmaster, like the tattoo. The main things Josh Widdicombe did on Taskmaster besides get a tattoo, I think, was count beans and fail to guess the rules of Alex Squash.

With Diamonds Come Bears was such an opaque club that they had to put it on the screen for us to understand it even once we did know the answer, but apparently the letters kind of line up. Then there’s that family tree showing how he’s descended from royalty, which he worked out from Who Do You Think You Are, and now talks about it every time he’s on TV.

- Interrupting my list of Widdicombe clues to say, why did Sam Campbell say Katherine Ryan has nothing to do with hair but “Bob Mortimer, that’s hair!” One of those people has objectively more hair than the other, and it’s not the one he described as “that’s hair!”.

- Did no one think before setting this task to check that Julian Clary has heard of Josh Widdicombe? That was pretty funny, watching Julian Clary walk around being unable to finish a task because he doesn't know Josh Widdicombe's name. Come on, Taskmaster, the small and nasally man with the short hair got a tattoo for this show. He does not deserve to have an entire task set up to emphasize the fact that Julian Clary doesn't know his name (he does, it was quite funny).

- Alex Horne, before this season started (paraphrased because I cannot be bothered to look up the actual quote): One contestant in particular put me in my place.

Julian Clary: "What sorts of people enjoy this show? Is it students?" "You're interesting, aren't you? Would you call yourself a charismatic man?"

- Susan Wokoma declaring that sexy dog subverts stereotypes made me laugh, Julian Clary referencing his dead art teacher very much added to that. I've watched most of the second task by now without stopping to write much because it's getting late and I'm tired, but that was fun.

- Lovely titled drop from Susan Wokoma. Very well delivered "Hell is here." She was kind of the quiet one last episode, is definitely making more of a mark this time.

-

- Look, if I wanted to be pedantic, I could make the argument that Sam Campbell's picture was much better than everyone else's and showed off artistic skill that clearly the others do not have, even though Sue Perkins' drawing was quite amusing, and therefore Sam deserved the five points alone. I mean, technically it was the best cheeky picture, not the cheekiest picture, and no matter how cheeky Sue's picture was, it wasn't as good a picture as Sam's. And if Sam Campbell loses this whole season to Sue Perkins by one point, I will absolutely be repeatedly making that argument that he was robbed in this task. But okay, fine, the idea of Sue Perkins making a dick joke is amusing. And yes, I'm aware that I'm watching Taskmaster wrong.

- Secret task gets mentioned again. I think the funniest option would be if it does exist, but it's useless. Like if there's a secret task somewhere telling them to do something huge and difficult and time-consuming and they have several months to do it and they have to bring it to the studio to complete it, and someone does do that, and then it's worth like half a point. Yeah it's a joke they've done before, but not for a while. They've used the idea sparingly enough in recent seasons so I think they could bring it back.

- Lucy Beaumont doing mischief by being an unethical fake psychic pretending to communicate with the dead to swindle people is a bit of a weird light given that I now know she does genuinely, literally believe in ghosts.

- Hang on. Hang on. Are they allowed to do that? They can set tasks for each other? A genuine first in a Taskmaster history, I'm almost sure. Susan Wokoma is out here re-inventing the game. I kind of want to know if anyone else in Taskmaster history has tried to affect one of their competitors' games and been told they're not allowed to, because if so, that's not fair to them that Susan could. But if she was the first person to think of it, then fair play to her.

To stop watching Taskmaster wrong (like a sports fan) for a moment and start watching it right (like a comedy fan), God that was funny. Watching Sam Campbell stand up and sit down and be so earnest about it and genuinely engaged and find a workaround to draw extra mice for extra points, while knowing it was all for nothing, was very funny. It's Widdicombe counting beans again. It's the thing I think they should do with the secret task. It's really funny to watch someone try hard when we know something they don't.

- After pretending to smash up Alex Horne's phone, I waited for what Sam Campbell would say, as he's had great lines throughout this show so far. But actually, I think leaving the room after saying nothing was the funniest thing he could have done. Solid instincts there.

- Sam Campbell threatens to make a prank phone call. Julian Clary writes prank longhand letters. The generational divide, everyone.

- Well, normally in my posts, I start out writing relatively little about things, and write more and more as the post goes along, so the things I write about later in the post get expanded on way more than the earlier things. This one is the opposite, because as I said, it's late and I've gotten more tired as it's gone along.

So I've finished the episode. I enjoyed the live task. I do always like the "do something while keeping eye contact with Greg" tasks. The main thing I have to say about that live task is... I don't know if this is quite the hardest I've laughed at season 16 so far. But it's definitely the longest. As in, I'm exhausted right now, I worked long hours today and long hours yesterday and it a few really stressful days and a long week and it's fairly late and I feel like my brain is fried, and for reasons I definitely cannot fully explain (if pressed, I could explain maybe about 20% of why this happened, at the most), this exact frame made me laugh uncontrollably for several minutes:

I just paused the video, stared at the screen, and could not stop laughing. There's a cat my lap the looked annoyed about it. Every time I tried to play the video again and move on with my life, I'd look at some new part of it and keep laughing. I took a screenshot so I can have it forever. The 20% that I can explain about why that happened does, again, involve using the word "earnest" to describe Sam Campbell's expression.

I also enjoyed Sue and Julian drawing the same thing (people who are older than the other contestants and also more famous than the other contestants and also gay are on the same wavelength as each other, apparently). And I liked Lucy Beaumont's peas.

I also enjoyed them bringing in another NZ task as the tiebreaker. Well done to Sue. I always like watching the rote memorization tasks, mainly because that's a skill I enjoy practising myself and I like to see if I can beat the contestants at it. I used to know pi to lots of places, back in high school, but I couldn't do that now. Could I memorize more digits than Sue did in the same number of seconds? Don't know, and am not awake enough to try it right now. Some other time.

I'm now going to sleep for a number of hours with two digits in it. Maybe three.

[doxiedreg]

I still have so much school trauma to work through and come to terms with. In general I accept what happened happened and I can't change the past. But on the other hand I'm so fucking angry at the system that failed me and even neurotypical kids. The educational system as it is now is not good. It's just test after test, essay after essay, constant deadlines, constant homework it's just not healthy. Learning should be fun. I loved learning new things as a kid, I was a hard worker. But then school just overworks you, just keeps demanding more eventhough you are at your limit. Even though your mental health is already shit because you are bullied like hell and nobody does something about it. Already shit because you don't have any close friends because you don't even know what to do anymore together with other people your age because you aren't really interested in most teenager stuff. Already shit because you are constantly suffering sensory overload from out of control loud classes, crowded hallways, people invading your personal space and purposeful scaring you by popping lunchbags and drink cartons. Some teachers are just 0 fun to listen to and make the subject they are teaching the most boring thing ever. Dreading whenever it's someone's birthday because it means there will be balloons everywhere which you are terrified of. Having to explain to teachers over and over why you can't do certain assignments or why you need more time. Physical education being the most shitty thing ever as I can never keep up with the others and it makes me feel pathetic. Also the exercises are often not fun for me at all. Just.. school did so much damage to me.. they denied for a very long time just how stressed I was because I still had good grades and behaved in class. My parents kept telling them how stressed I appeared at home. That my hair was falling out, that I was trembling that I didn't want to eat that I was struggling. But they just shoved the concerns away. It wasn't until I had a panic attack in class at school that they assigned someone to me to help me. But it was too little too late. I started going home early because I was just too mentally unwell. They started to question this as me slacking off because I was lazy or something even though I was grossly overworked. In the end I became suicidal and extremely depressed and stressed and hit rock bottom and stayed home. At first this was meant to be temporary but in the end I just dropped out because I couldn't take it anymore. It was a very dark time..and it took a lot of therapy and time to crawl out of it...school had destroyed my self image. I thought of myself as stupid and lazy and not good enough, never good enough no matter how hard I tried. I wondered if my classmates missed me, it they even noticed I wasn't around anymore. I never got closure on that. But luckily I made a new support system for myself online. There were some toxic friends in there at first but it's been a few years now that I've kicked them all out and I feel loved and cared about and seen. In may this year it will also be a year that I've lived on my own, in my own studio apartment without housemates and it also did wonders for me. I mean it's also been tough and brought new stressful things to deal with but I like being in control over my environment..I hope to get a dog in the future to help me with emotional stability (I miss having a dog on my lap and petting them the most I'm so touch starved but I'm not fond of touching people) and getting out more but I'm not ready yet. For now I have my lil fish guys and snail guys to look after and that's already nice

Anyway.. sorry for rambling..I just had to let that all out, it was building up too much. Ever since the sun started shining I feel like my brain is processing so much stuff in the bg i guess the book post triggered some of it to come outward

To my friends: even if we don't talk much, I love you all so much and I'm so happy to have you all in my life. You make me feel loved, appreciated and supported. You make me feel seen. I am so grateful to have a loving support system, even if I'm a lil shy to reach out sometimes still.

Just you guys are all great, remember that

[whythewords]

Days 292 - 326: We'll get 'em next time folks

Well, that was a short-lived stint of semi-frequent posting. About as short-lived as the stint of successful dating. I won't go into too much detail because truthfully there isn't really much to go into..but we went on two dates and the conversations were nice and she was really cool and I felt like we were vibing. ....But she had to cut the second date short early and I got the feeling that things weren't quite the same after that. I sensed she was losing interest, and that sense was compounded by being deferred to another time each time I asked her out on a third date after that.

We kept talking, not as much. I sent a message, shared a funny meme or Instagram post (as is a thing in modern dating I guess) and decided to cool it for a bit after not getting a response for a day or two. Last time I had asked her out she said to ask her again the following week, but I figured if she did actually want me to ask again she'd at least pop back in with a "hi" or something. As days went on and I didn't hear from her I decided to leave well enough alone.

Here's the fucked up thing though: the narrative that I created in my head was that she had lost interest early on, but kept deferring my attempts to set up a third date because she didn't want to just tell me she wasn't interested. Again, this may not be true and in fact, probably isn't, but that's the part that bums me out. Maybe the timing wasn't right. Maybe she just couldn't really commit the time and needed that leeway. Single mom, a couple of jobs, it's safe to assume she's got a lot on her plate. Maybe the few times that she said "ask me again next week", she was really hoping I just made the effort and asked her again next week. It's just that it kept happening. Still, I have this insane fear that I'm "the bad guy" in this scenario and that she might even think that I lost interest. But there doesn't need to be a bad guy. Sometimes things just...fizzle.

It shouldn't be that big of a deal, but I think I'm treating it like it is because this was the first actual prospect I had with dating in any capacity since separating with my ex...and not only was it a prospect, but this girl was super cool and nice and I felt like we had a lot in common. But there's the rub: the investment in something as fleeting as a couple of dates with a stranger from online. I get too invested too easily and I'm still not entirely sure why. Part of it is just me grasping at straws looking for some kind of validation that an actual romantic connection is still a possibility after my marriage dissolved. Part of it is this droning, nagging desire for intimacy (probably an unhealthily strong one if I'm being honest). And maybe that's all to signify that I'm not ready for this yet...but I felt ready...and I definitely feel like I WANT to be ready. I dunno.

There's a friend's wedding coming up next week, and a bunch of us who are going were talking/joking about the potential for myself and some of the other single folks in my friend group to meet some people there...truthfully the conversations ran the gamut from "let's find you a nice girl" to "you can TOTALLY hook up with someone at the wedding." I think I've spoken at length on here about how far away I am from being the "hook-up" guy....but even the possibility of that or just to meet someone new was intriguing. After this (what should be but isn't in my neurotic mind) "insignificant" dating stint, I don't feel so inclined to meet people at the wedding anymore. I'm kinda afraid of where it leads.

I'm back in this kinda shitty place of being afraid that things could end badly, and then I'm frozen in that fear. I'm doing my best to keep myself open to other possibilities but...it's hard. I definitely snoozed the dating apps after all this happened and am seriously contemplating doing so until I move out of my folks' house which realistically could be a couple of years (even though I'm gonna do my damndest to get out before the end of 2023). And that's a factor too, I keep thinking to myself: "how many more women will be as accepting of the fact that I'm in limbo right now? A 35 year old student living with mommy and daddy just waiting to finish up so he can TRY to get a job and move out."

Maybe that was a deciding factor in things petering out too, maybe this girl met someone who had their shit a bit more together. Or maybe I didn't make a move quick enough because I was scared to, because I don't know when the right time to do that is. All of these intrusive thoughts just were kicking around in my head for the past few days because there really wasn't any closure. The situation doesn't demand closure, though. Shitty as it is, this kinda thing happens all the time to all the people trying to do the dating thing these days. And I do know the "what a significant bummer" feeling will pass in time. I'll get there. And then I can figure out what's next I guess.

What else..? Oh, there's like one more month of school left. That should be good news, but these final assignments and studying for exams are kicking my ass (what an uplifting post this has been by the way). I think once I get outta this funk I'll be better off. I need to get back on a proper workout schedule, do something to distract myself from the holiday loneliness (also a factor, being uncoupled feels significantly worse around this time of year). My sleep hasn't been great, I've been in a bit of a fog because of the goings-on of the last few weeks, but I DO feel myself finally clawing out of it. As always, seeing friends does help. Spent some time with a few of my favourite people for a close friends' birthday, then went and played video games with the guys. That's the shit that's keeping me afloat man. I'm grateful for that.

The year is almost over. I'm reminding myself now again that this was a journal meant to document my progress since the separation and the BIG SHIFT (career, education, living situation, etc.). PROGRESS is the operative word here. It's too late in the game for such a huge bummer. But hey, bummers fucking happen. But I'll be damned if it's how I'm gonna end my year. I'll be done school soon. I'll be one step closer to getting the fuck outta here and back into some form of much-needed independence. Juuuust one step at a time. I picture a couple of sports commentators looking in on my progress right now in the grand old game that is this weird fucking life of mine.

"Ya know Johnny, we were hoping for them to make a big push this year but there have been some setbacks that have prevented 'em from scoring as big as we predicted they would early in the season." "That's right Jim, but as we've seen in the late game here, there have been some big shifts in the team dynamic this year that they've had to adjust to, and they're still putting up decent numbers despite that. Ya know, this is a rebuilding year for the team and it looks like they're gonna hit the 2023 season strong and they'll definitely be one to look out for come playoff time."

Hear that folks? I'm one to look out for.

I'm not dead yet. Somehow.

Look the fuck out.

[monstersandmaw]

Male werewolf x female character (Gabe & Odessa) - Part Eleven (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Thank you for your lovely words and enthusiasm on the last part! It made me so happy to hear how much you all seem to adore these two as much as I do. I hope this chapter makes you happy too.

Odessa has had quite the time of it lately, and she deserves all the nice things, and Gabe, who has been living as a heretofore contentedly unattached werewoofer in the woods for ten years, also deserves to have a good time.

__

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw) Part Seven (sfw), Part Eight (sfw), Part Nine (sfw), Part Ten (sfw)

“Gabe?” Odessa mumbled, shifting sleepily against him.

She’d had her head resting on his chest since they’d finished their pizza, and the lights from the TV cast flickering patterns on the wall while she let it all wash over her. In the wake of the day’s events and revelations, she’d crashed, and Gabe had let her curl up beside him while he hooked an arm around her shoulders and pressed soft kisses into her hair. It had been blissful beyond words.

“Mmm?” Once more he nuzzled her hair with his nose before pressing another kiss there, inhaling deeply as if he couldn’t get enough of her scent. The solid warmth of his body against hers grounded her in a way she’d never experienced before, and she never wanted to move from that spot on the sofa.

“Do you have to go?” she asked.

Her small, barely-articulated question hung in the air a moment.

He inhaled, held it, and then sighed it out slowly. His breath warmed the top of her head where his nose was still pressed against her. “I should check on the dogs and settle them,” he said. “But… I could grab some clothes and a toothbrush while I’m there if you’d like me to stay?”

“You’d come back afterwards then?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

With a sleepy smile and a belly full of starchy pizza, she pushed herself reluctantly to her feet and felt his gaze heavy on her back as she crossed to put the plates in the sink. “I’d love you to stay, but… if it’s going to be a bother with the dogs…”

“They can take care of themselves for a short while just fine,” he said. “I’ll leave my truck here though.

The way he said it told her that Gabe thought its presence would deter Jake if he came back, and she couldn’t find any argument against it.

Leaning back against the counter, she asked, “You think there’ll be trouble?”

Perhaps hearing her heartbeat rise, Gabe shook his head and got to his feet. “Just being overly cautious, I guess.” And with that headed towards the door to put his boots back on. “I’ll be no more than an hour, I promise.”

Odessa nodded. “Can I kiss you before you go?”

His smile brought dimples to his cheeks. “Always.”

Gazing up into his eyes a moment later, she paused and said, “Show me again?”

Gabe’s breath hitched audibly, but a second later, his eyes flared bright gold and she stared openly.

Slowly, she brought her fingertip to his dark eyebrow and traced the length of it, then down over his temple to the hinge of his jaw, at which point he parted his lips a little, leaned down, and took her face in both his hands.

The kiss started out tenderly, and almost chaste, but in only a few seconds, Gabe moaned and deepened it. He growled under his breath while he kissed her, the sound rumbling in his chest and throat, and she bucked her hips instinctively against him. Her fingers grabbed his waist and his chest heaved.

He drew back with a gasp and a laugh and closed his eyes. Resting his forehead against the top of her head, his hands still on her face, he trailed his thumbs across her cheeks. “Odessa,” he whispered. That one word carried so much emotion; so many things he wanted to tell her.

“We should probably stop before your walk home gets uncomfortable,” she mumbled, dropping back down off her toes. He was already half-hard if what she’d just felt was anything to go by.

When Gabe opened his eyes and looked down at her, golden eyes met dark brown. “Bit late for that,” he laughed and turned away, fingers fumbling noticeably on the latch behind him. “One hour,” he said. “And you call if he shows up.”

“I will. I hope it won’t come to that though. He’s a coward, and he knows he’s lost.”

“He’d better,” Gabe snarled into the night as he strode out of the door and down the cabin’s steps. He paused while she closed the door behind him and lingered until he heard the click of the lock before leaving.

Odessa looked around the empty room and her gaze snagged on the two empty beer bottles sitting companionably on the table. She smiled, left them where they were, and went to get ready for bed.

It was only as she came out of the bathroom in just a towel that she realised the significance of the fact that she’d asked Gabe to stay over. In her one-bedroom cabin.

The reality of the situation hit her but she felt nothing but excitement, even if it was tempered with a touch of apprehension. It shook her to realise how much her relationship with Jake had knocked her self confidence — her belief in herself, her sense of self-worth. Gabe was gorgeous, and he was sweet and caring and funny. And a werewolf, apparently. It was hard not to feel crushingly ordinary next to that. And besides, she had no sexy lingerie with her — lace and hiking didn’t mix too comfortably after all — and her pyjamas had cupcakes on.

“Well… shit,” she laughed, looking at them where they lay in a rumpled pile of unfolded fabric on the bed. “Well if I can love a werewolf, he can overlook my questionable tastes in nightwear.”

She was a chapter into her book when she heard the knock at the door. Fear flooded her instantly and she froze for a good five seconds, hardly daring to breathe, ears straining for the slightest sounds above the whispering forest outside and its creaking trees in the night. Finally, she coaxed her body into moving and she pulled back the duvet.

She walked barefoot through the cabin in her ridiculous cupcake pyjamas and came to an unsteady halt at the front door. It had only been about forty minutes since Gabe left. Visions of Jake standing there, perhaps drunk or full of impotent fury, filled her imagination.

“Odessa?”

Odessa fairly collapsed in relief at the sound of Gabe’s voice on the other side and she hurried to let him in.

When the door swung open she was surprised to find that his short, dark hair sparkled with tiny raindrops and the shoulders of his scruffy old jacket were dark with drizzle. He paused when he caught her expression, misreading it completely. “Still ok with this?” he asked. He had a small and mostly-empty duffel bag over one shoulder. His fingers tightened around the strap. “If you changed your mind about me staying, especially after… you know. I understand…”

Odessa shook her head and stepped aside to let him in. “Not at all. I just freaked myself out for a second before I knew it was you. Were the dogs ok?”

He smiled and levered off his boots, careful not to knock mud and pine needles off onto the floor beyond the scratchy doormat.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to see them again,” she confessed. “I mean, I know they’re not pets, but they’re so gorgeous, and…” she paused and took a deep breath before shrugging. “They obviously mean a lot to you.”

He hitched a lopsided smile and reached out to take her cheek in his free hand. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head that left her tingling all over and said in a voice that was surprisingly rough, “Yeah. They do. Come back with me tomorrow and we can have breakfast at mine. I can’t cook much, but I can make a mean pancake.”

“Perfect.”

Letting go of her to shrug out of his jacket and hang it beside the door, Gabe asked, “Do you want me to sleep out here?”

“You’re not a guard dog,” Odessa scowled. And then her exact choice of words hit her and she bit her lip, eyes going wide, hand covering her mouth.

Gabe gave a huge snort and then began to laugh. It was a deep, rich sound that came from his belly and bubbled out of him to fill the room with a truly joyous sound, and her cheeks flushed hot.  

“I’m sorry,” she said, heart hammering. “I didn’t mean… I just…”

Before she could react, he strode back to her and hugged her. He kissed her on the top of her head, still laughing, and said, “It’s ok. But now that you know about me, you’re only allowed one dog joke a day.”

Odessa stilled.

“Odessa?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m kidding.”

“…right. Not gonna lie, you had me for a second there.”

He chuckled again and kissed her head. “Seriously though, where do you want me to sleep?”

“It’s not the biggest but if you’re ok with it, I’d like you to stay in my bed. I’m not… I’m not sure I’m up for… you know… tonight,” she said, face darkening from pink to crimson, “But…”

“Odessa, you’ve just had the day from hell. The last thing I’m gonna do is pressure you to have sex with me. I just… I just want to be here for you. Maybe hold you a bit…”

Tears prickled at the edges of her lashes and she blinked rapidly to bat them away. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll just go brush my teeth.”

“I hope it wasn’t my pyjamas that made you decide against sex,” she muttered as she led the way into the bedroom.

Gabe snorted again but the sound was warm and friendly and honestly delighted. “If anything was going to make you unattractive to me, it wouldn’t be those.”

“Really?” she said over her shoulder with raised eyebrows. “Oh of course. It’s the cupcakes, isn’t it? You’re a cupcake fiend.”

“Yes, Odessa,” he deadpanned. “It’s the cupcakes.”

She was still laughing quietly to herself when he emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, though the sound died when she saw him in just his black boxer briefs and her jaw went slack.

“Holyshit,” she whispered before she could bite it back.

His body was lean and tanned and toned in the way of someone who spent their whole life outdoors and on the move. He had a noticeable t-shirt line at the top of his biceps and she could see where he wore shorts in the summer, but it somehow suited him. With shoulders honed from chopping wood with an axe, back and torso banded with muscle from hauling heavy backpacks around and maintaining the national park, and legs built to hike for days, Gabe was the picture of everything she found attractive, and he wore it all with a shy smile and kind eyes.

“I… can put a t-shirt on if you’d prefer?” he asked, faltering in the doorway. “I packed a clean one. Werewolves tend to run on the warmer side though.”

“Absolutely not. I forbid you to wear clothes ever again. Get in here.”

Unexpectedly, Gabe blushed. His cheeks turned red and his ears went pink and he looked at the floor as he came around to the left side of the bed which she’d left clear for him.

As he slid in beside her and she let the duvet drop, she felt the heat washing off him already and smiled. He lay down on his back and glanced over at her before looking away again. “Thank you, Odessa,” he said, eyes fixed on the wooden boards of the cabin’s ceiling.

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” she countered with a little shuffle to get comfy on her side, facing him. In the glow of the single lamp behind her, she stared at the sharp jut of his Adam’s apple and the way the white and grey flecks in his beard and hair caught the light. He had beautiful, long eyelashes too, she noted from that angle. “You got me out of a shitty situation, drove me back here, took care of me, shared your food with me, and then offered to stay the night…”

The corner of his mouth twitched but he didn’t look at her. “Thank you for giving me a chance after you found out what I am. For not… bolting or… I don’t know.”

“I’ve scheduled my freak-out for ten o’clock tomorrow,” she said and he laughed quietly, tension dissipating. “Mind if I cuddle you non-stop til then?”

“Not in the least,” he said, shuffling so she could rest her head on the hollow of his shoulder. They both let out a long, quiet moan when she pressed her body against his side and looped her arm across his torso.

“You are warm,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his bare skin. Again, his breath caught audibly and he swallowed. “It’s nice.”

“You won’t be saying that in the summer,” he said, and then immediately tensed when he realised he’d suggested something much more involved than a simple night in her bed.

“If I get to hold you like this in the summer,” Odessa said, pressing another kiss to his pec, “Then I won’t have anything to complain about. I’ll just have to take my clothes off too.”

Gabe snatched a quick, shallow inhale and then curled his arm to pull her so tightly against him that she practically rolled on top of his chest. He half rolled over to meet her and hugged her fiercely.

Exhausted, Odessa fell asleep like that in five minutes flat.

She woke in the dark on her other side, with heat all along her back and a tight pressure around her middle. For a disorientating moment, she thought she was back in the city, but after blinking for a few seconds, she remembered where she was and exactly who was cuddling her so tightly to his chest that she could barely breathe.

From behind her, she heard him take a longer inhale and mumble, “Y’lright?”

Gabe’s voice was thick and scratchy, and a good few notes deeper than usual, and it made something come loose and uncoil inside her chest. She brought her hand up to cover his own where it was pressed against her chest while he formed a perfect big spoon behind her, and she kissed his fingers at the knuckle. “Yeah. Sorry I woke you.”

“Mmph,” he mumbled and nuzzled the back of her head. He was asleep again in seconds, and she wasn’t far behind him.

When dawn light snuck in around the thin curtains, Odessa surfaced slowly from sleep and became aware of Gabe in an entirely different way.

He was still pressed against her, but this time she was lying on her back and he was half draped across her, one arm around her middle, the other under his head, and his hips were grinding with aching slowness against her thigh and hip. He breathed heavily against her neck, beard scratching her skin, and she glanced awkwardly down to peer at his face. His eyes where shut but his jaw was softly parted and he moaned softly every now and again. “Odessa,” he mumbled, rolling his hips again so that she felt every inch of his hard cock against her through the fabric of her pyjamas.

In an instant, her whole body came alight with want, and a long-dormant desire bloomed inside her.

She kissed his head and he stilled, waking abruptly. The moment he realised what he’d been doing in his sleep, he twitched away from her onto his back and blurted, “Shit, m’sorry…”

“I don’t mind,” she smiled.

For a while he just lay there, his breathing quick and shallow. Then, shooting her a sidelong look, he smiled shyly. “Haven’t been this worked up in the morning since I was a teenager,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m so sorry.”

“For wanting me even in your sleep?” she grinned, rolling to lie along the length of his body with one thigh hooked over his. He groaned at the contact, jutting his chin upwards and closing his eyes, and she pushed her hips against him for emphasis. “Don’t be sorry for that.”

With a quiet, rumbling growl, he reached his hands out and grabbed a delicious handful of her arse. His upper lip pulled back on one side and he growled like an animal as he squeezed appreciatively. “You’re gorgeous,” he gasped, kneading the softness of her body with his fingers, driving them into her muscle hard enough to make her gasp and buck.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said. “I can smell it on you.”

“You can?” That would take some getting used to.

“Mmm,” he hummed, rolling them both so that she lay on her back again and he splayed half atop her. He shifted so he could press his nose against her exposed collarbone and raked his teeth over her skin before leaving open-mouthed kisses there. “I can smell it. I can taste it. Odessa, you’re perfect…” he whispered against her skin. His hips ground his hard cock against her thigh again and they both let out a rough exhale.

Helpless, and suddenly swept under by a rush of pure, erotic want, Odessa arched her back. “Gabe… touch me.”

“I am,” he smiled, his hands running up and down the length of her body.

His cock still pressed hard against her but this time he didn’t move. It wasn’t nearly enough. The fabric of her pyjamas was too much of a barrier between them and she desperately wanted it gone. “Please?”

“Off,” he said, tugging at the waistband. She hitched her hips up and let him tug everything off in one go before sitting up and pulling off her top as well. Her hair came tumbling around her shoulders in unruly waves and she shoved it back out of her face.

Gabe stared at her for just a second before bringing his left hand to cup her right breast, kneading gently, rolling her hardening nipple between finger and thumb before leaning in and mouthing and nipping at her left  side until she shuddered and fell back into the pillows.

Odessa felt like he devoured her in the long minutes that followed.

She lost herself to the wandering pleasure of his hands and mouth until he eventually slipped his fingertip between her parted legs and she bucked wildly at the sudden sharp relief it brought.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, sliding between her folds and circling her swelling clit. “Odessa you’re so wet.”

“For you,” she hissed, head thrown back. “Oh God, Gabe…” she added with a bitten off yelp as he nudged her clit and pressed the pad of his finger against the underside of it. Pleasure sparked across her skin and shot through her nerves, lighting her up all over from the inside out. In the past few months, she’d hardly felt like touching herself there, but now as Gabe drew tiny, teasing circles over and over before trailing his touch through the wetness that gathered there, only to start all over again, she couldn’t get enough of it. Her whole body shuddered and heaved, and he took every sound she made.

“You’re going to make me come,” she panted when he slid his fingers deeper inside her and pressed, all the while keeping his thumb’s attention on her clit. Tension ratcheted up through her muscles at the combination of light pressure on her clit and deep, slow, circling pressure inside. It started in the arches of her feet and worked up her calves to her shaking thighs, up her heaving torso, to her neck and down her arms until her whole body was taut as a piano string and thrumming. “Oh God…” she choked. “Oh my God… oh my God…” She chanted it over and over, lost in the barrage of new and excruciatingly beautiful sensations. “Gabe, I can’t… I’m —”

“Come,” he murmured, kissing her stomach. “It’s ok. Come for me Odessa. You can come for me.”

And she shattered. A great, heaving wail left her and she arched, convulsing and shaking against his hand as her mind went completely blank. It was probably the least elegant she’d ever been during climax, but it was heartfelt and honest and that alone almost made her weep. He’d done it just for her; his touch had been for her ecstasy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come like that, and no one else had ever made her come like that, she was sure.

Trembling and shaking, she tried to catch her breath while he stayed with his touch pressed deep against her, easing her through it. Finally she cracked an eye open and looked down to find him staring up at her with his eyes a bright, supernatural gold.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, awe in his voice.

She had to smile. “I want you,” she said, and to her surprise, he faltered.

“I… I don’t have a condom,” he grimaced. “I wasn’t expecting… and it’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve… yeah…” he finished with an awkward shrug. “I don’t actually have any at home.”

“I think I’ve got one in my wash bag in the bathroom,” she said, still a little breathless.

She grunted as he withdrew his fingers from her a moment later, but she stared openly when he slid them into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he tasted her and she bit her lip, astonished.

When he opened his eyes again and found her staring, he flushed a little. “What?”

She didn’t know how to tell him that Jake had never wanted to put his mouth anywhere near her, let alone lick the taste of her from his hand like she was something to be savoured. When Gabe read the nature of her thoughts in her expression though, he growled and lowered his hand. He put his palms on her thighs and leaned down, kissing down the softness of her stomach to the crease at her hips and then he spread her legs with his hands and kissed her sensitive clit.

She sucked in a breath as pleasure sliced and skittered through her again, and she parted her legs a little more. Gabe laved his tongue over her and sucked gently at her tender clit, his tongue pushing at it from underneath in a way that made her legs go limp and her heart race. “Oh my God, Gabe,” she gasped, suddenly boneless.

“Too much?” he asked, barely raising his head from her.

“No?”

He smiled, looking a little dazed himself, and said, “Tell me if it is.”

No one had ever done this for her, and the intimacy of it shook her.

She felt pried-open and exposed and vulnerable, but the way he held her with his arms underneath her thighs while he pressed his mouth against her, pulling her closer to his face, moaning and working his tongue over her, suckling and circling her clit repeatedly until she shuddered and shook and couldn’t stop, made her feel held and valued and… adored. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she felt a second climax racing towards her. “Gabe, I’m going to come again,” she panted, wondering if he’d want to pull back.

If anything, her words focused him. He closed his lips over her clit and sucked gently, tongue moving all the while, and she let it take her completely when he slid two fingers inside her to the hilt, crooked them, and let her come around them. “I want you, please,” she sobbed through the last, breathless throes of her orgasm. “Please. I got tested, by the way, and it all came back fine. I should have said that sooner, obviously, but I got checked after I found out that Jake was —”

Gabe growled and his grip on her tightened for just a heartbeat. “Don’t say his name,” he said. “I don’t want you to have to think about him now.”

She laughed and felt her body go slack again as the last aftershocks faded and Gabe sat back on his heels. His short beard glistened slightly. “I’m not thinking about him,” she said. “I’m thinking about you and what you just did. No one’s ever done that for me, you know?”

His golden eyes darkened as his pupils soared wide and dark. “I’d gladly do it for you every day,” he smiled. “You’re beautiful. And you come so beautifully too,” he added.

She let her gaze drop to the tent in his black boxer briefs and saw a wide dark spot in the fabric there. “What do you want, Gabe?” she asked.

“You,” he said immediately. “But I don’t have to be inside you. Werewolves don’t catch or carry human diseases, but like I said, I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” she said quietly. “I want you inside me.”

His eyes rolled back a little at those words and he let out a deep groan of pleasure. Stepping off the bed, he shucked out of his boxer-briefs and she couldn’t help but stare at him. His cock was hard and flushed, and she felt her core clench at the sight of him. His tip glistened, foreskin already sliding back with his arousal, and it twitched under the weight of her gaze. He wasn’t huge, but she knew she’d feel every inch inside her.

Gabe climbed back onto the bed and paused beside her, looking into her face with a tender smile. He leaned down and with a fingertip, he gently lifted a strand of hair out of her eyes, then he ran his fingers down her cheek and dragged them over the centre of her lips. He didn’t stop there, trailing them down her throat and between her breasts before he circled her nipples with his thumb. The blunt nail scratched just enough to draw a tiny grunt of pleasure from her before he continued down, splaying his fingers wide and pressing his palm into her soft stomach. She wanted to feel self-conscious, but she didn’t. She felt powerful and beautiful and so desperately alive under that gaze.

He moved slowly, reverently, and rested his hand against her hip for a moment. It was as though he were steadying himself; grounding himself with her body. Then he dipped his finger a little way inside her heat again and exhaled roughly. “You’re sure?”

She nodded and lifted her leg to let him slide more easily into her.

He let out another ragged breath, lined the tip of his cock up with her entrance and pushed just a little way in. “You’re so tight,” he gasped, head bowing forwards.

In response, she moved her bent right leg higher, opening herself to him, and he slid carefully all the way inside. A long, low groan left his lips and he halted there, breathing and holding her right leg in his left hand for a moment, again, as though to tether himself.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, kissing the inside of her leg. “God, you’re so perfect. You’re so hot and tight…”

“Gabe?”

“Mm?”

“Move?”

He laughed and rolled his hips back so that he slid almost all the way out. Then he rocked against her again and moaned. For a while, he just repeated the motion, sliding in and out with torturous slowness while she got used to the intrusion, though she was tempted to suspect that the pace had more to do with stopping himself coming immediately than her pleasure this time.

“You’re so wet,” he rasped. “Odessa, you feel so good.” Then he opened his bright gold eyes and looked up at her face. “Is this alright?”

Tears blurred her eyes as she smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” she choked. “It’s perfect.” It really was. Sex had never been something she craved or particularly enjoyed — certainly not in her last relationship — but this felt like something else entirely. There was something sacred to Gabe’s reverence; each breath that passed between them a prayer; a hope for something more.

He halted, his cock almost all the way out of her again, and she nearly sobbed at the loss of pressure inside.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please… I need…” and she did. She needed him. She needed to feel him moving inside her. She needed the feel of him filling her so completely there wasn’t room for anything else in her mind but his presence. It was a need she had never experienced before and the raw suddenness of it almost consumed her. “Please, Gabe, I need you. Please… please…”

Gabe didn’t need telling again. Each slow thrust of his hips rocked the bed, sending the wooden headboard clunking against the wall. Although he barely sped up, he soon began to breathe more heavily, his hands going to her hips to anchor her in place while he pushed all the way inside her. His balls caught against the soft skin behind her entrance with each stroke and she whimpered with pleasure, pulling her legs up further and crossing her ankles behind his back to change the angle.

“Fuck, I’m so deep,” he grunted on the first slide at that new angle. He took her right leg in his hands and straightened it, resting her calf against his chest and her ankle on his shoulder. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah. Oh God, that is deep.”

“Too much?” he asked.

“No. Perfect. Oh my God…” With the pressure building inside her again, stoked by each thrust of his hips, she knew she was going to come again, and that it would be the biggest yet.

Gabe stared openly at her with his yellow eyes and growled, kissing her ankle and then leaning forward, stretching her until she thought she might break from how good it felt. She cried out as he caught her deep, her fingers scrabbling at the sheets beneath her and Gabe’s self control seemed to fray. He didn’t get any faster, but the growing power behind each slow, deep stroke knocked the breath from her lungs.

“You can go faster if you want,” she said, surprising herself with how wrecked and winded she sounded. To be fair though, she was almost bent in half.

“Won’t last,” he grunted. “Want to last a little longer.” He turned his head slightly and rubbed his cheek and jaw against her calf. At the sharp nip of teeth, she opened her eyes again and watched him rake his canines along her skin. They’d grown bigger and thicker than they had been before, and she felt the prick of claws against her skin. “Fuck,” he hissed. His pace picked up then, turning from slow to almost frantic as he chased his release. “Oh fuck, I’m close, Odessa. I’m so close. You’re so perfect. I’m… I can’t hold off any… any more, I’m —”

She clenched her muscles around his cock and he was done for.

He came with a snarl through gritted teeth, eyes rammed shut, hips pushed flush against her, and he emptied himself into her.

There was no question in that moment that Gabe wasn’t entirely human.

Dark, sharp claws extended from his fingertips in place of neatly-trimmed nails, and the rictus snarl of ecstasy revealed longer, broader canines like fangs. She knew that behind his tightly-shut eyes, those irises glowed golden. Odessa had never known that there were beings out there like Gabe, but that moment felt so right, so perfect, so complete, that she knew it was everything she would ever want.

While Gabe was still coming, she shattered a third time, coming around his cock while he was still buried deep inside her, and he threw back his head. For a wild moment, she thought he was going to howl, but he just let his jaw hang slightly soft, lips parted, eyes screwed shut, and he clung to her right leg with his clawed left hand. Gasping, and with a few last stuttering thrusts against her, he finished and half collapsed. His grip on her leg slackened and she lowered it down to the bed, allowing him to lie atop her, breathing hard.

“Alright?” he whispered between shallow, snatched breaths. She could feel his heartbeat thundering.

“Mm.”

“Tell me if you need me to move,” he managed.

“I will.”

For a long time, neither of them moved. Eventually, Gabe began to soften, and she felt some of his release slide down onto the sheets, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Even that felt right. She slid her hands up his lean arms and raked her nails in idle patterns over his shoulder blades while he just lay there and breathed in the scent of her. From time to time he shuddered, the motion going right through him, down his entire body, and at one point his breathing became so soft she thought he was falling asleep.

“Gabe?”

“Mm?”

“I think I need you to move,” she said, though her reluctance at the idea rang through her words. Her brain wanted him to stay there forever, but her groaning ribcage had other ideas. “Sorry.”

He smiled and kissed her neck before pushing himself up and back in an easy press-up, and carefully sliding out of her. “Mm, we made a mess,” he said, and ran his fingertips through the slickness that coated the upper part of her inner thigh. He circled his fingers across her hip a little, smearing his come and her arousal across her skin before coming to lie down beside her, resting his head on her pillow.

“Odessa?”

She rolled her head a little to look at him. It was all the movement she could muster just then. “Yeah?”

“You alright? I… I let go a bit more than I meant to there,” he said. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“It was perfect,” she smiled. “Thank you for trusting me with…” the words ‘your secret’ sounded so childish and so insincere. “Everything. For letting me see you like that. I know… I know you said you didn’t intend for it to happen this way, but I’m glad it did.”

“So am I,” he said.

After a pause she asked, “Will you let me see you as Wolf again?”

“I can’t do it now,” he said. “I don’t have a shift in me right now.”

“I didn’t mean now,” she said, stretching a little to kiss the tip of his nose. She smiled when it made him laugh. “Whenever.”

He licked his lips and her eyes tracked the movement.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it…”

He nodded. “Yeah. I will.” After a moment he grimaced and said, “We should probably clean up a bit.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, and then brightened. “Oh!”

“What?”

“You promised me pancakes.”

Gabe’s whickering laugh rolled over her and she grinned at him. “That I did,” he said. “I’ll go grab a shower.”

He was halfway to the door when she rolled onto her side, naked and completely exposed and, for the first time in her life, unabashed. “Mind if I join you?” she called and he stopped to look back over his shoulder.

When he took in the sight of her, obviously posed like that just for his benefit, his eyes flashed and he bit off a growl. “When you look like that, I want to come back there and have you all over again.”

“What’s stopping you?” she smiled.

Gabe stared for a heartbeat longer and then turned and paced back to her like a predator. “Absolutely nothing,” he growled, and tipped her over onto her back.

___

Next Chapter --->

I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like, and if you’re excited about it, you can always let me know with a comment and/or an ask. Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 3)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Violence.

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to post again! I’ve wrote like 3 different versions of this chapter because I didn’t know what direction to go in just yet.

_

"Woah, dude. Did you see this?" Y/n held out Peter's phone shoving it in his face.

Y/n had gone over to Peters house early that morning to get the last finishing touches on their project done. So they both reluctantly decided to walk together to school.

Peter snatched his phone out of Y/n's hands as they crossed the street. "How did you even get my phone? It was in my hands." She shrugged and pointed back at the article.

Peter scrolled down the page. Incoming reports say Avengers went on a mission and since gone MIA. How didn't he know about this? And why didn't the Avengers at least tell him they were going to be gone. Peter was confused, to say the least. Were they in trouble? No, they couldn't be they are the earth's mightiest heroes. Right?

"They probably just had to extend their mission and forgot to report back in." Or at least he hoped. He didn't want to think of the latter. He decided after school he would go to the compound and make sure everything was alright.

"If you say so." They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school.  Peter opened the door and they both walked into English. Y/n took her seat next to Mj and Peter next to Ned.

The thought of the Avengers missing did worry Y/n a bit. She wasn't a big fan of superheroes but she also was not, not a fan. It was complicated. Sure she liked the security of having someone to save the day. But she hated that they pretended to be better than everyone else. They judge criminals as they themselves have never done anything wrong. They tend to blame everything on everyone else and never take responsibility.

Y/n felt a nudge to her arm. She turned her head to face Mj. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No, no it's alright I'm just thinking," Y/n said. She pulled out her laptop and opened her and Peter's presentation to have it ready just in case they had to go first.

Their opening slide was a picture of Anne Frank surrounded by a pretty border and Anne Frank’s name in cursive in the middle. Peter insisted their project had to look nice and not like some shitty last-minute one like she had originally done. Y/n had teased Peter relentlessly about it saying maybe he should be a graphic designer instead of Spider-Man. And he of course huffed and pretended to ignore her.

"Well, you just looked worried. Anyways tell me if you need any help." Y/n gave Mj a grateful smile. Y/n knew Mj could have this cold, hard exterior but she knew she secretly cared.

The bell rang signaling the first period started. The teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room clasping her hands together. "Good morning class. Today is the first official day for our presentations. We'll be picking who goes first by random. Any questions?"

One girl toward the front of the classroom stuck up her hand "Yes, Betty."

"Did you see the news? About the avengers?" The class erupted within hushed conversation everyone stating their theories of what happened and their worries.

"Alright, class settle down. I did see but we will continue like normal." She said. It kind of seemed like to Y/n she didn't care at all but she didn't really think anything of it.

The phone rang and the teacher quickly excused herself. Y/n picked at her fingers mindlessly. The teacher muttered a few words into the phone and hung up "Y/n, Peter." Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name "They want you down in the office. And bring your things."

Y/n furrowed her brows. Her eyes met Peters "What did you do?" He mouthed just as confused as her.

What did she do? What the hell did he do. She hasn't done anything wrong. Well, at least nothing she gotten caught for.  "Dude if anyone did anything it was you! I've only been here for like 3 weeks." She whispered-yelled back.

He put his hands up defensively. Y/n shoved all of her things in her bag and zipped it up. Mj raised an eyebrow at her and Y/n just shrugged with a clueless look on her face.

Y/n walked over to the door opening it with her free hand while her chrome book was in the other.  Peter followed not too far behind. They step out and began to walk down the hallway shoulder to shoulder not a word muttered between them.

The hall was empty. No teacher, no janitor, no late students, not even the common lost freshman. It was strange to Y/n. She turned to Peter "This is weird. It's almost like it's too."

"Quiet." He finished for her. Peter felt off. His spidey sense wasn't alarming him with anything but it was almost like a gut feeling you'd get when some strange guy came up to you at a party being a little too friendly.

"Yeah." Exactly. They continued down the hall both on high alert. When they passed a window Y/n could see two men dressed in suits around the corner through the reflection.

"I think they're following us." She whispered to Peter. Y/n has picked up a thing or two of trying not to be noticed but the men behind them didn't seem like they cared much for subtlety. They had their eyes set on Y/n and Peter taking wide quick steps.

This time his spidey sense went off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Peter reached for his web-shooters "We need to get out of here."

"You think?" Y/n back said in an aggravated tone. The next time they passed by a window she could see them screw something together slowly by their side.

Y/n glanced down to get a better look, it was a gun. All she could hear was the beating of her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Thinking quickly Y/n shoved Peter into a locker. A bullet whizzed past where his head once was and made a tiny thump when it hit the wall.

His eyes went wide momentarily stunned before he sprung into action. He shot out a web, grabbed the gun out of the man's hand, and flung it across the hall, making sure he couldn't get to it.

The men paused for a minute before muttering something to each other end breaking into a spring toward them. Well mostly at Peter luckily for her but still in her direction. Peter began to fight the one whose gun he had stolen hand to hand. The man got in a punch to Peter's face. Peter tripped him and tied him up with his webs.

The second man was coming toward her. Before she could second guess herself Y/n took her chrome book and slapped the man across the face with it. The man was momentarily shocked and Y/n opened an unlocked locker hitting him in the face. She watched him slide down the lockers unconscious.

More men turned the corner and came down the hallway. Y/n kicked a waist-length garbage can with wheels toward them as a small distraction. Peter grabbed Y/n pulling her into an empty classroom.

Y/n locked the door before she grabbed Peter and dragged him further into the classroom into a supply closet. They both crouched behind a mop bucket leaving the door cracked for a tiny bit of light.

"Would you like to tell me why there's someone outside this classroom trying to blow my brain out!" She huffed.

"Don't ask me. For all, we know they could be after you!" They both flinched as they heard the door handle shake.

"They were attacking you. Shooting at you. And you'd have a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't push you out of the way if I might add." She poked him in the chest.

The men began to start kicking at the door trying to break it down "Maybe if we figure out who they are we can get out of this."

"You know what I have an idea." Y/n reached back and grabbed the gun out of the waistband of her pants. Y/n started not to care much for introductions when they tried to assassinate her. Her motto was to shoot first ask questions later because she was not going down without a fight.

"What the hell Y/n! Where did you even get a gun?" Peter tried to put some distance between them but failed and ended up bumping into a shelf.

"Calm down bug boy I'm not going to shoot you." She rolled her eyes "I grabbed it off the guy while I smashed my laptop over his head."

"You are not shooting anyone!" He exclaimed. He was going to die with a psychopath. A literal psychopath. What would his uncle Ben say if he could see him right now?

"Fine whatever. How many webs do you have left?"

"Only one." He muttered.

"Only one! How the hell do you only have only one web left?" Oh lord. She was going to die in a janitor's closet with an idiot.

"Oh well, I'm sorry I didn't know I would have someone trying to paint the walls with my organs. I must have forgotten to mark it on my calendar!"

"Oh god, Okay." Y/n rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

She took the clip out of her gun and counted the bullets she had. Two. Okay, she could work with that, Somehow. She just had to live long enough to beat Peter up for almost getting them killed.

She turned back to Peter "Alright here's the plan so we are going to jump out of the window and see just how far that web can exactly get us." She could hear the pounds on the door getting more frequent and if she was being honest she was surprised it held this long.

"Are you crazy! You going to get us both killed." He didn't need the answer because he already knew she was. He swore he could see the shadows swirl around her for a moment but as quickly as it was there it was gone.

"Do you have any better ideas because I'm all ears, Parker?" He didn't say anything and just ran a hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh.

"That's what I thought." Y/n knew there was a good chance that they get hit by incoming traffic like a bug on a windshield but it was either that or the SWAT team outside.

"Let's get this over with." Said Y/n. They both stepped outside of the closet. The men outside the room gave the door one last kick and it broke off of the hinges. "Go." That was all Peter said.

Y/n shot the window with the two bullets she had. Peter ran over to Y/n and grabbed onto her tightly. They jumped through the window shattering it. Peter shoots out his last web hooking onto a nearby tree. At the peak of the swing, Peter let go of the web. They flew over the traffic narrowly avoiding the cars.

When they finally reached the ground they hit it hard. Peter took most of the impact but Y/n still hit her head. They continued to hold tightly onto each other as they rolled through the grass from the momentum of the swing.

They came to a slow stop and Y/n landed on top of Peter. She slumped off to the side of him and sat up. Peter did the same but with a groan feeling all of the bones in his body.

He noticed blood began to trickle out of Y/n's nose. "You got something." He pointed to her nose.

She wiped under her nostrils with her fingers and then again with the bottom of her shirt without a second thought "Oh, Thanks."

Peter rested his head on his knees. What was he going to do? As much as he didn't like Y/n he felt bad for dragging her into this. "We need to get going they are going to come looking for us soon."

"Where are we going to go?" The light was starting to become too much so Y/n put her hand over her eyes to shield her from the sun. She was starting to get a headache and just wanted to lay down. Peter stood up and dusted off his shirt and pants.

"Avengers compound." He held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulls her up onto her feet. They began to walk toward the street.

"I just don't know how we are going to get there." He added. They made it onto the sidewalk. Y/n was stumbling around so Peter kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him.

Y/n stopped walking "What do you think of this car?" She nodded to a 1997 Honda Accord.

"It's cool I guess." He said confused the car was a little old but he didn't say anything.

"Alright good. Now hand me your web-shooters." She held out her hand toward him.

"Okay?" He didn't really know what she was trying to get at. Peter just assumed she hit her head too hard but he complied anyway.

Y/n crouched down facing the car. She broke his web-shooters over her knee taking out two long curved metal pieces. She handed him back the rest of his broken web-shooters. Peter stared at her wide-eyed as she stuck the two metal pieces into the lock of the car.

"What are you doing." He hissed. Peter walked closer to Y/n trying to cover her as she picked the lock to the car.

"I just gave our problem a solution." She said without looking. She continued to twist the pieces around until she heard a little click. She gave a little cheer and opened the door.

"Yeah by stealing someone's car. Need I remind you is illegal."

" I like to think of it as borrowing. Besides I will happily leave you if you wish." She rolled her eyes. God, her head was throbbing.

Y/n took the plastic cover off of the steering column. There were three sets of wires and she grabbed the middle one. Y/n cut the red and blue wire. She touched the wires together until she heard the car start. She smiled to herself and lastly twisted the wires together.

She turned to Peter "Are you getting in or what?"

Peter looked around and then sighed "Fine, but I'm driving."

"What? No way, you don't even look old enough to drive." She crossed her arms.

"You have a concussion so I'm our best bet at not dying." He gave Y/n a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but got out of the driver's seat.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes they are going to get stuck like that." She flicked him off and he laughed.

Y/n basically collapsed into the passengers seat. Peter closed his door and started the car. He pulled into the street and Y/n rested her head against the window. The cool glass felt nice against her forehead. She notice a bruise on Peter's pale cheek from when he got hit earlier.

Every now and again he would glance at Y/n to see how she was doing. He figured she must not feel the best because she hasn't said one witty remark since they got into the car.

He hoped by now the Avengers were back at the compound and could Tell them what's going on and who was following them.

He looked over to her again and she had her eyes close. He jabbed her with his elbow "Hey, don't fall sleep. You might not wake back up."

"Hmm Okay." She said but didn't budge.

"I'm serious Y/n, open your eyes." Peter was starting to get worried. It wasn't that he cared about her. But he didn't know what to do with a dead body. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch, my eyes are open."

They pulled into the road of the compound. When it came into view Y/n suddenly sat up wide eyed "Holy shit."

"What?" Peter took his eyes off of Y/n and followed her line of sight.

"What the fu-"

Part 4

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee

[its-toasted]

Self care and self love are very different

I've been avoiding writing long text posts for like a month, I'm sorry. Don't know why I apologized. Doing y'all favors. Usually I just want to spill and cast out the feelings instead of writing to edit, you know?

Even if I want to share, I'm seldom ready since they're ethos ventings. They serve the therapeutic purpose, then go in the vault. But every once in a while, I'll pull a raw feeling or line from an old something to start a new one and I love doing that, especially if it becomes a poem or prose joint. I try not to let the spillage go fully to waste.

.

TLDR this not pretty. This afternoon I got stuck for a while on how I wasted over 2 good years of my twenties. A bottom 3 hang-up of thus far. It's been a couple months since this has cracked, it's heavy bitterness and shame and loose ends. I've burned a lot more bridges than I admit, even to my brother. It just makes me feel so fucked again.

After graduating in 2018, it took a while to land a passable gig, but I hustled and continued to take care of myself for about 6 months. Even though I was already in a bad mental space, I kept up steady routines because that's always kept me sane. Growing up I felt like my shit was together and I could do anything probably because I was always doing things. I kept the balance, body mind social spiritual. I think my world opened up more starting with weightlifting and ball in early middle school, finding those 2 things to love and work toward for myself, not forced like music. People and progress grounded me.

My whole attitude about self care shifted in the 2019-2020 calendar years. I just walked off a cliff. I remember reading a woman talk about "losing her mojo" in a Humans of New York book my brother got me. That was me at my worst, I stopped wanting to live decent and see my people and like go out. The biggest culprit was that I had a job that was impossible to be proud of, but it was a lot more. I leaned so deep into weed, because dependency is a common product of pushing for years. I mostly undid an adolescence of becoming who I wanted to be, and it started before 2019 but never caught on, and it went beyond my body. I shut down and stopped caring, period. For ~2 years I didn't do shit but make meh contract money and ride solo in my own worlds.

The worst thing was that I owed people better and I just wasn’t there for many because of anxiety and addiction. You lose the people you don't keep up with. What hurts otherwise is how I started to drop everything I love and found my place in. Spending time with my fam, writing, reading, singing, instruments, talking to my people, getting sun, even driving and exploring, all the simple passions. I wasn't active in circles seeing people anymore. Church school newsrooms workshops sports trapping greek life were all done, and I was in limbo. It all stacked into a very tall identity crisis, and I dealt with it by not. I started keeping to myself and it wasn't even bitter, it was just empty. Work and spark and dog and game and eat and succumb to a show or movie. I got by on this shitty rhythm for a brick, there was such a lack of love in and out. That kind of steady can be fine for a while, right, but when you're in it for too long or for the wrong reasons it becomes dark.

The routine was lonely, but it kept me occupied and not depressed. What it did to my headspace and self-image was nasty. Some of these self-deprecating thought loops that revisit today are like an unraveling of all the unsettled triggers, because sins beget sins. But so many times I'd neglect them automatic, reasoning that I was too lucky as a kid, and lived plenty full through 20, and I'd rather have those years anyways. I had a nice home, a good brother, and two parents who were physically present. So I can't feel this way, I have no right, how much can I ask for. And it's not bad to check privilege but sinking into that mentality was hella counterproductive to healing. Being a fucking bust aided in crippling me in too much shame to confront my shit for years, I just shucked it all.

That all started the year before COVID. So when COVID hit, things didn't get better for a long time. It literally took finding a new full-time job and moving homes to start getting myself right. But as soon as that happened, it was like the light switched back on. I want to stay wanting good things again, I miss being warm. And I can't invalidate my hang-ups or own all the guilt. That's not taking care, that's how I squander and dig a deeper hole. I have to wrestle and reflect on why I push everything away. And I'm not absolute trash for taking a long time to get okay again. Or maybe it's that I was trash, but I can still grow. Believing in your own ability to change might sound like a no-brainer, but I lost it for a while. Growing up is some bullshit but we’re gonna be good again.

You know underneath it all, I still believe God exists. But I don't think he does anything, I think he leaves us to our devices. And roots for us, because we have to find our own way. So on the good days I've forgiven myself and am moving forward again. Since I relocated, my baseline has been good days. I'm getting back to a better place, even if it's mad slow. Month-by-month I do notice differences. This was really hard to write. And it makes for a shit read because there's so much of what I hate about myself. But that's okay. Keeping it a buck, writing is less often about making what I want anyways.

OCTOBER - DECEMBER WRITING PLAN:

1. Send out another round of poetry submissions if I feel it 2. Wring and rearrange work since May for 1-2 collections 3. Then, finalize the outline for a memoir-ish book 4. Then, write book smh

There's no way I stick to this timeline. I'm excited and nervous to start on the book. I guess I've already started, but I'm not even sure I have the ability to wrap it up well right now. I envision an embellished memoir, but twisted enough that it still surprises me too. I will have rantage spillings scattered but I do want it to be storyline-driven. Except more as a string of vignettes to share all the loves of my life, and just how people lose and gain and change. I want to try to make something someone can fall in love with for sure, that good-book feeling carried me many times as a kid and teen.

Hopefully, I'll be on the book by the turn of the year. I think that's really optimistic. Reminder that there's nothing wrong with that.

[togetherwelove]

6/14/20

But Sunday was more than a shit ton of errands like I lazily posted on my facebook.

The ride home from Madison, sleep deprived and cranky, I finally just laid all my cards out on the table chronologically. There's this exhaustion I just haven't been able to shake lately. Tired of cherry picking information, tired of listening to cherry picked information, tired of trying to be perfect and perfectly positive all the time. Saturday was a cumulation of a shitty week and trying to keep everything nice and neatly bottled up. So the ride home I just talked, not holding anything back, not trying to sugar coat reality. And it was hard. It sucked. But you know what? I was met with the same vulnerability and openness. And god that's all I've been wanting. That's all I've been needing.

So we went home and snuggled and talked some more and I finally crashed after 24hrs of being awake on about 3-5hrs of sleep.

Sunday we woke up and continued our talk. Continued the free flow of communication and vulnerability.

And I did something I've never done, I invited R to some yoga. Which is one of my most private and personal times. And you know, it wasn't awful and I would like to do it again. I think he even liked it too.

We made omletes which I'm finally starting to get the hang of maybe.

We had errands to do in the city. As habit has it, I quick got high. My tolerance is so low that a quick hitter blazes me. So we're driving along and I get super horny and sensual. And one thing leads to another and the next thing I know his dick is in my mouth as we're driving down the highway. Which is something I've always always wanted to do but never thought I'd have the guts or confidence to do it. It was my second new experience of the day and I think he enjoyed it as well.

We got to the city and after months of quarantine I finally got my haircut. She really didn't change too much, just reshaped it but it looks about 10x better. And she was nice and polite. I always get nervous that they're going to be assholes who also don't pay attention to what they're doing. But it turned out fine.

We went to goodwill to drop some shit off. You had to take everything out of boxes in front of the person due to covid protocols and tbh I find that super humiliating. But whatever. Someone somewhere can use that stupud shit that I no longer want and that's better than it ending up in a landfill.

And we went to the glass shop. It's been years since I've been there last and I found it bery curious that I was just as elated to be there as I am when I'm in the craft store. Especially because my smoking is at an all time low currently. I got a new slider for my baby bong after my asshole of an ex broke pretty much all my glass. Mostly I was there for the cbd products. Fi got a vape that is super obnoxious and I honestly don't know how effective it will be. But I made sure I got the cheapest version of everything to try it out so if I don't like it it should still be alright. Mostly what I was pumped for was their prerolled cbd joints and their cbd flower. In all reality that's all I should have spent my money on but hey, early birthday present to myself.

The other interesting thing was how I reacted to having R with me at the glass shop. Being able to point out cool peices and talk about it and giggle with him. It's just a part of me that doesn't typically surface while he's around but it did and pretty strongly. Which could be a point of severe anxiety for me but instead was... it just felt right. It just felt like we were puzzle peices. Like I don't have to try to filter or water down any of the parts of me to make it more easily digestable for him. Trust building, confidence building, just the universe reminding me that he's the one for me forever.

Anyhow.

So we came home and we sparked the cbd j. And that was about one of the best experiences ever, being able to smoke with him, both of us getting buzzed together. And then having hot and passionate sex after. 3rd new thing: smoking a joint together.

After that was cleaning and running to walmart and making dinner. Everything was good. We snuggled at the end of the night and I fought to keep my eyes open and just soak up as much time as I could with him. But sleep carried me away as it always does, right into Monday morning where we had to say goodbye.

[brain-smouthy]

i truly have better things to do with my life than post on this app but i'm bored and not at all sleepy despite it being way past my bedtime so here goes

fuck universities that require on-campus room and board freshman year lol, i'm not even in a particularly shitty roommate situation but this year has still been fucking hell in terms of residence life

like first off the requirement is a painfully obvious cash grab designed for two reasons:

to take advantage of the portion of students who will inevitably drop out after their first semester or two by maximizing how much money they do spend on school

simply to get more money out of everyone, whether or not they stick around to get a degree

second of all, being forced to share a bedroom with a complete stranger for an entire year is absurd. colleges/universities and proponents of mandatory on-campus housing in general will sing the praises of how being assigned a random roommate or roommates helps you "meet new people" and just... no lol. i've met plenty of new people since i started college and none of my fulfilling interactions and new friendships have involved my roommate. as it turns out, meeting new people is a hell of a lot more pleasant and productive when you do it on your own terms rather than being forced into a bunk bed with somebody you've never met.

and that brings me to the mental health side of things. whether or not you have anxiety or depression or other pertinent mental health conditions, but especially if you do, we all need our space! people need alone time! the last thing i need after a long and exhausting day is to come back to my room, hoping to unwind and relax, only to realize my roommate is here and i have to keep my guard up.

plus, random roommates are bound to have different schedules that may or may not interfere with each other's sleep or homework routines. i get up at 6:30 every morning whereas my roommate doesn't leave the room until after noon most days, meaning he has to deal with my alarm and the lights early in the morning as i get ready for class. and on the flip side, it's really fucking hard not to resent my roommate for his super-lax schedule compared to my regular 8-12 hour school days. our bedroom represents wildly different things to each of us, for him it's where he spends most of his time and only leaves for short periods for a few afternoon classes and again in the evening to go see his friends. for me it's the one place i can come back to recharge after being busy on the other side of campus all day, and it really throws a wrench in the whole "recharging" thing when i finally come home just to see that he's here and has been here all day long.

i can't comfortably talk to my family or friends on the phone while he's here. my roommate and i haven't spoken to each other in months. we really just don't have much in common and our lack of interaction means we absolutely don't have the sense of comfort in each other's company to do anything but lay silently in bed scrolling social media with headphones in.

this could all be solved with at LEAST reasonable access to single-occupancy rooms. requiring freshmen to live on campus is fucking stupid, but not even letting us have privacy in our own room just adds insult to injury. i have plenty of reasons to be excited for my apartment move-in at the end of next week, but above all else i'm excited because i'll FINALLY have a space where i can unwind and be alone and do what the fuck i want unconditionally. the apartment could be absolute dogshit for all i care (thankfully it's pretty nice and i'm gonna be living with some good friends of mine), literally all i care about right now is finally fulfilling the psychological need of mine that has been left unavoidably neglected all fucking year.

and as if housing wasn't a big enough problem, allow me to direct your attention to the fucking meal plan. this semester i've had the fortune of getting on one of the campus breakfast restaurant cashier's very good side and i have the special privilege of a free bagel and iced latte every morning, and i can't overstate how much i appreciate the cashier for that. it's saved me quite literally hundreds of dollars on food costs, but to be clear, that's all in spite of the terrible fucking meal plan, not thanks to it.

to get into the meal plan, it really is terrible. the main dining hall (located in the dorms area of campus in the largest of the residence halls) is in the farthest possible corner of campus from the vast majority of non-gen-ed class buildings, and literally in the opposite corner of campus from the music building where i spend 95% of my class time. this would only be an inconvenience/annoyance, if not for the fact that the dining hall is closed for lunch prep during the one fucking hour of the day that i'd theoretically have the time to walk there for lunch. that forces me to mostly eat at the on-campus restaurants, which work differently with the meal plan, and last week i had the fucking fantastic experience of running out of restaurant meals covered by the meal plan i spent literal thousands of dollars on. as a result i had to skip lunch that day because i didn't have any other form of payment on me (i was fucking exhausted and ravenous and ended up having a full-on mental breakdown), and it's now costing me $10-20 per fucking day to not starve myself, because i also don't have a kitchen in my room to cook my own dinners.

so anyways in conclusion, fuck universities that require campus room and board for first year students as it's nothing but a predatory cash grab that demonstrably hurts students psychologically and decreases quality of living and ends up costing more in meal expenses than eating without a prescribed meal plan would cost. fucking let students live where they want and arrange their meals as they see fit and let them "meet new people" organically rather than forcing them to share a room

(as if on cue, my roommate just got home and turned on all the lights. it's midnight and well past my bedtime and this happens every night regardless of whether i'm asleep or ranting on social media like i am right now. fuck this housing plan.)

[shapeshiftersamirah]

Ahh someone else who started on ffn!!!! I've found it's soooo different from tumblr, some of the stuff you see on there....

I… apparently have a lot of thoughts on this (??) which I was not expecting. There’s a mini essay beneath the cut that includes minor culture analysis done by an amateur, how I joined the pjo fandom, and CAPITALS because emphasis, but the short answer is: yeah, tumblr and ffn cultures are continents away from each other, and (kind of surprisingly, especially considering the DISCOURSE on tumblr), tumblr is better.

I cannot for the life of me remember how I found it, but ffn was my first foray into fanfic and wow did I ever learn stuff. Some of it was good and is still useful to me (like how to tell if a fic is well written just from the summary, fandom terminology, good writers aren’t always good people, but they always bookmark good fics, etc) but a lot of other stuff was a little scarring, especially for a kid with no prior fandom experience. Looking back, a lot of stuff on ffn is horrifying. And I’m not just talking about the writing/plots.

I remember skimming author’s notes on fics and the writer would seem so tired and annoyed as they asked readers to stop demanding updates or explaining “so I got hit by a car and was in the hospital for a while which is why this is late sorry about that” (or some other completely legit reason for not posting on schedule). Or even in the description, I saw a lot of “this is my first fic please be gentle!” or just flat out “no flames”. And that’s a little unnerving to think about. These people feel the need to explain their lives and then APOLOGIZE for it to avoid criticism. I feel confident in guessing that the writers putting “my first fic please be gentle!” in the description were mostly pre-teens to early teens. They were kids. They were seeing all of these amazing writers producing amazing content and getting hate for it and they were terrified of the same thing happening to them, so they had to come up with a way to protect themselves. The fact that they even felt the NEED to protect themselves blows my mind and breaks my heart. And some of the people putting “no flames” in their description were likely doing it as a precaution, but it started for a reason: people were getting so many hate filled reviews it was a problem, so they found a solution. (And I know this type of hate and demanding updates still happens, and it still horrifies me, but I feel like it was more frequent back in, like, 2012. Or at least, I heard about it more back then.)

(Friendly reminder that fic writers don’t owe you anything so don’t bother them demanding updates. Tell them how much you love their fic instead, ask questions about it, show that you’re interested and want more and you’ll get it and a much happier author.)

There’s a lot of design features I don’t care for on ffn and the tagging system there is ATROCIOUS I have no idea how I found ANYTHING, but I liked visiting ffn. Until I found tumblr (and later AO3).

My favorite pjo writer linked her tumblr to her ffn profile and mentioned she had more fic posted there, so I immediately went and devoured it. In doing so, I discovered that tumblr was a better website (I cannot believe I just typed that. That shows you how much I hate ffn). I stalked her tumblr every day and through her, I found more pjo writers, some I recognized from ffn and others who were totally new to me. Through those new writers, I found even more. And most of them had FIC REC TAGS which became my favorite thing. During this time, I didn’t visit ffn once. I had everything I wanted and MORE because on tumblr, you could post FANART and GRAPHICS and DISCUSSIONS ABOUT THE SERIES! There was a better communication system on tumblr. I didn’t see hate everywhere. I didn’t have to sift through piles of things I wasn’t interested in or that were written so poorly I couldn’t follow to find a few mediocre fics or that one professional quality fic. I could see evidence of internet friendships! It was just a nicer place to be.

When I finally made my own tumblr account in 2015 and subsequently started this blog in 2016, I really immersed myself in the pjo community and learned all sorts of stuff. Like: there are people here who I swear to god are actual rays of sunshine. Some people have ingenious insight into the series and the characters and holy shit my understanding of everything is so much better now. There are so many talented people, but they’re all human just like you. And more of course, but the bottom line is that for the most part, the fandom was a good place to be. I rarely saw hate being sent. The discourse wasn’t fandom ending, though most people were Done by the time it’d run its course. I saw a lot of nice messages being sent to people and there were a lot of excited, happy responses in return. People respected each other.

For the most part, I really enjoy being a part of the pjo fandom here on tumblr. There are so many incredibly talented people and the vast majority of people are so sweet and nice and good to be around. Almost every day I see something that deepens my understanding of the series. It’s just a nice place to be for the most part. There are things I have really started to hate, but it’s easy enough to avoid them. Tumblr is a pretty shitty website sometimes (in design and fandom), but I would never in a million years trade it for ffn.