sigh. just another day scrubbing the floor and mowing the lawn and dusting and doing the laundry for the rest of my pack. but the house has to be in especially perfect shape today because Alpha Jameson has an important meeting with another Alpha from across the river. If they come to an agreement, the Newport and Cincinnati packs might finally have peace for the first time in decades. No more fightingā¦.But they say the Newport Alpha is the most ruthless wolf whoās ever lived. Can our hotheaded Alpha really find a compromise with a man like that? I have to hope for the bestā¦with a deal between our packs, the months of new business negotiations will have everyone so busy, they wonāt have time to push me around. Alpha Jameson might even be too distracted to think about me. The thought is almost too good to be true. Iāve been his scapegoat to treat like trash ever since he and my younger sister claimed each other as mates. There was a time when we were kids when it was me on his arm at dinners and parties. But then we grew up, andā¦..I never got my Wolf. Iām a freak, and everyone knows it. Of course he couldnāt stay with me. Not that Iād want to be with him now anyway. These days he canāt even say my name without spitting it. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I never get my Wolf, and I get banished to live among humans. But then I remember my childhood best friend. She was so prettyābrown eyes, with brunette hair she always wore in a bun. I was homeschooled with my pack, of course, and she went to the local high school. We met at the libraryā¦.our shared sanctuary. She didnāt have any other friends, and neither did I. We hung out every chance we got. Until one day when we were 16ā¦her brother told me she was gone. I found out that their mom gave her away to a boy band, and I havenāt seen her since. Thatās when I realized the human world is just as ruthless as the wolfen. No, banishment wouldnāt be better. But I donāt know how much longer Iāll survive this place either. Most days, keeping my head down and doing what Iām told isnāt enough to keep me out of trouble.
But things could be worse. Yesterday I overheard my sister talking to Beta Devon about the deal Alpha Jameson is making with the Newport Alpha. Apparently, heās requested a woman from our pack as his mate. With his reputation, I could almost feel bad for whoever Alpha Jameson chooses for him, even though the women in our pack treat me even worse than the men. Iām an embarrassment to them because I donāt have my Wolf.
Whatever. At least I know it wonāt be me, because Iām not important enough to be married offā¦ā¦..
everyone saying that they can hear the MCās voice so clearly. Thatās because I didnāt write this. I channeled her voice through myself as a vessel. Sheās out there somewhere.ļæ¼
funny you should mention it because Iām channeling the MC again right now and she met the Newport Alpha today. Her stomach was in her throat when she found out that he requested her, specifically. Whatever sheāll have to endure will almost be worth the look on Alpha Jamesonās face when he was forced to acknowledge that someone actually wants herāthat someone outside of her pack even knows her name.
Still, the satisfaction was fleeting when it finally sank in that sheās leaving with the most ruthless Wolf this side of Louisville. Is she simply out of the pan and into the fire?
Not so much. In fact, the Newport Alpha is cold as ice. He hasnāt spoken a single word to her in the hour since they met and left Cincinnati on his sleek, burnt-sienna Ecosse ES1 Spirit.
Could he really have asked for her, specifically? What if heād asked for someone else and they sent her instead, as a consolation prize? What ifā¦
What if he asked for someone else, and they lied about who she was? Oh god. Would she have to pretend to be Payton or Sabrina to maintain peace and to keep her own head attached to its neck? She might be able to pull that offā¦for a week.
Does he even know what she isāwhat she isnāt. Did Alpha Jameson or her sister tell him she doesnāt even have her Wolf? Maybe the Alpha can sense that on his ownā¦
Theyāve stopped for gas, and he still hasnāt said a word. But he when he goes inside for an energy drink, he comes back out with sweet-tarts ropesāher favorite. Itās such a random candy too. How could he have possibly known that? A lucky guess?
They share an impossibly familiar look for just a moment as he hands her the candy. Then heās astride the motorcycle again.
She wishes she had something other than him to hold onto as they speed southbound on 471. Despite herself, her arms are wrapped around his waist, and she tucks her forehead against his broad back so the wind wonāt sting her eyes.
His carhartt jacket smells faintly of clove cigarettes. His hair smells like apricot shampoo from the dollar general. The specificity of the scent catches her off guard as they cross the bridge into Newport. Why would she recognize the brand? More importantly: why would a wealthy Alpha buy his hair products from a dollar store?
And why is she even thinking about his shampoo to begin with? She needs to be preparing herself for her first night in her new life. It could be anything. She needs to be smart. She needs to be on guard.
And yetā¦she canāt stop thinking about his brown eyes. Something in them is soā¦.impossiblyā¦..familiar. It just doesnāt make any sense.
That's very kind, but again I'm not writing this. I'm having visions and ecstasies where I see through the eyes of the MC. In fact......I'm being overcome now......
We've been driving for a long time now, well past Newport's city limits. At some point, we got off the highway, and I counted streetlights blurring by until we started passing trees instead. We're out somewhere in the woods now. I tell myself that I'll get my bearings the next time we stop, but we just drive on and on.
We blow through an intersection in the middle of nowhere, and I try to catch the name of whatever county road we must be on, but it's too dark, and we're driving too fast. The Newport Alpha doesn't seem to care about stop signs or speed limits.
Why would he? We could crash into a tree going 100 miles per hour, and he'd be okay. Not me, though. Inhuman powers of strength and healing are reserved for those with a Wolf.
I bite my lip and wonder again if he knows about me. If he does, I guess that means he wouldn't care if we took a turn too fast and I fell off the back of this bike and died. If he doesn't....
I shake my head. There's no way Alpha Jameson and my sister could've kept this secret. If they did, and he doesn't take it well when he finds out....
My stomach twists when I think about what might happen to me. No. Alpha Jameson needs this to go well. No matter how much he hates meāno matter how much sick pleasure he'd get if I were torn to shreds in a bad business deal. The Newport Alpha wanted a mate from our pack. Not even Beta Devon would be stupid enough to try to cheat such a powerful Alpha with some Wolfless loser.
He could have asked for any of the unmated women in our pack. Sabrina and Chelsea would have thrown one of their legendary tantrums if Alpha Jameson tried to give one of them away, but I saw Payton preening in every reflective surface she passed this morning. She wanted to look good for the Newport Alpha, and she did look good. She was taller and prettier than meāblonder, with better clothes and makeup. They all were.
Why didn't he want any of them. What does he want with me?
I'm so lost in thought, I didn't even notice that we'd turned down a long driveway until we stop.
He cuts the engine, but I still feel like I'm vibrating. I'm not used to riding on motorcycles. I'm really not even used to leaving the house. My arms feel like jello, still wrapped awkwardly around his waist.
The Newport Alpha suddenly gets upāso fast that I don't even have time to let go. His body drags mine sideways, and I brace myself to land on the gravel driveway.
But I don't. He catches me by my arm and pulls me onto my feet.
"Thanks," I say, at the same time he says, "Sorry."
It's the first thing he's said to me since we met hours ago. I know I look surprised when our eyes meet. Those brown eyes...
We stare at each other for so long, it starts to hurt. I'm not used to anyone acknowledging me unless it's followed by an insult or a slap. I can't take the eye contact, so I look down at my old Sperry shoesārejects that Sabrina threw away.
He lets go of my arm and says "sorry" again.
"It's okay...." I say. My voice is so quiet. I hate it, but I don't know how to be any louder. I'm barely ever allowed to talk.
The Newport Alpha doesn't seem to care. He says, "I know this probably isn't what you were expecting, but I thought you might be more comfortable with a little privacy tonight."
I look up and realize he's talking about the house, a little cabin surrounded by trees. He's right, it's not what I expected. When my sister told me that Alpha Jameson was giving me away to the most ruthless Wolf in the tri-state area, I didn't really picture woodland cottages. It's not even as big as the garage where Beta Devon keeps those stupid, expensive cars he loves so much.
I don't know what to say, so I whisper, "It's fine."
The Newport Alpha grins. I don't know why he'd care so much what I think of his house, but I'm glad I made him happy. Things will be easier for me if he's in a good mood.
He says, "Yeah? Are you sure? I just thought it might be kinda overwhelming for you to meet the entire pack tonight, you know?"
"Yeah," I say, because I have no idea what else to say. Nobody's ever considered my feelings like that before, let alone gone out of the way to accommodate them.
"Well, uh, want to go in? It's kinda cold out here, huh?"
He's looking me up and down, and I feel exposed in my plain blue jeans and hand-me-down Hollister v-neck sweater.
"Sure," I say.
I follow him up the front porch steps. He opens the door, and I wait for him to go first, but then I realize he's waiting for me to go first. So I do.
This time, it is what I'm expecting. The cabin is decorated like a little hunting lodge. I've never been in one, but I've seen them in movies and TV shows. The walls are wood panel, and they're covered in antlers and trophy fish.
"Bedroom's over there." He points to a door on my left, then to one on the right. "Bathroom's there."
I'm eyeing a rack with three rifles hanging beside the door, and he must notice, because he says, "They're not loaded."
When I don't say anything, he keeps talking. "I bought this place a few years ago, and I haven't really gotten to redecorating. Those came with the place. Besides, who needs a gun to kill a deer?"
He grins, and I notice for the first time how sharp some of his teeth are. It's nothing like ours in my pack.
"Hey, I'm just kidding," he says. I guess he can tell I'm a little freaked out. "I'm a fishing guy, anyway."
"Oh," I say. "Ha."
I don't know why I even tried to laugh. It sounds more pathetic than I even usually do. He's frowning at me, and I panic a little. What am I thinking??? This is my new Alpha. Laughing at his stupid jokes will be the least of my duties to him. Pack members who don't play along never last long. I need to get it together.
"Well," he says. "Why don't we call it a night?"
He looks me up and down again. "Is that all you have?"
He means the clothes I'm wearing. I can feel myself turning bright red. Everything happened so fast today, I didn't have time to pack even my few belongings.
"Yeah," I say. "It's...okay. I....always sleep in jeans."
He cocks his head and looks at me like he'll call my bluff. I bite my lip. There's something in his face. He looks somehow....sad. I have no idea what to do with that. But then he smiles.
"Okay then, " He kicks off his timberland boots and pads across the room in his socks. I watch him lie down on the old, 1980s velour couch. "Good night."
I don't move. What am I supposed to be doing right now? I wait for some command. It feels like an eternity passes before he sits up and says, "Sorry, do you need something?"
I shake my head. He stares at me for a moment and says, "Huh. Well...sweet dreams?"
I still have no idea what he wants from me. I have no idea what to say, and then he says, "Sorry. I have no idea what you want from me right now..."
It catches me so off guard, I actually laugh. A real laugh. Then he laughs. His laugh is loud and confident, and it makes his broad chest rise and fall under his tight, black t-shirt.
He laughs longer than I do, and then I say, "I don't know where I'm supposed to go...tonight?"
"Oh!" He says, smiling. "The bedroom's all yours! There are fresh sheets. It's a little cold, but it'll warm up in here soon. I just switched from wood to solar, and it's been a whole thing, you know?"
I don't know. I just say, "Okay, thanks," and then I wander awkwardly to the bedroom.
But I stop in the doorway. I don't know why, but I suddenly feel a little bold. I want to say something other than oh and yeah, but I have no idea what.
He's looking at me like he knows I'm trying to get the courage to talk.
So I just ask, "What's your name?"
"Oh!" He laughs again. "I can't believe I never said. It's Yale. Yale Northland. It's kind of a weird name, though, isn't it?"
I don't know what to say. Am I supposed to agree with him? Would that be rude?
He says, "So my friends just call me by my initials, Y.N."
"Okay, Y.N.," I say. Then I have nothing else to say, so I say, "Goodnight," and I shut the door behind me.
The bedroom looks just like the living room, with wood panel walls and random woodsy knickknacks. The bed is huge. It takes up most of the room, and it's covered in old, homemade quilts. I've never seen anything like them. They're so....cozy. I pull them back, and the sheets are red flannel with patterns of little black pine trees and bears printed on them.
I take off my jeans, because I actually don't want to sleep in them, and I climb into the gigantic bed. Thew Newport Alpha is nothing like what anyone said he'd be.
He seems so normal. I can't help feeling like there's something I'm missing. Like, tomorrow, I'll wake up and he'll be the cruel, ruthless Wolf my sister told me about.
My stomach twists, but not even the fear is enough to keep me awake after such a long day. I try to stay awake, but the cabin is so quiet, and the bed is so warm, I drift off to sleep...
No nuance: blatantly gay principal villain with a duo of ambiguously gay henchmen, or ambiguously gay principal villain with a duo of blatantly gay henchmen?
Blatantly gay principal villain with a duo of ambiguously gay henchmen
Ambiguously gay principal villain with a duo of blatantly gay henchmen
Very gradually increasing the size of my animated show's primary love interest's dick bulge from episode to episode to see how long it takes for the producers to tell me to knock it off.
Not really, no; a serialised illustrated or animated work's boobs gradually getting larger as its art style evolves is a completely conventional trajectory. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of published examples ā the ones from mainstream superhero comics alone would fill volumes. This one is specifically about cock.
He's a transfem boymoder. He's a transmasc femboy. He's a he/him lesbian. He's bisexual. He's the only male-presenting member of a system including at least 5 others. Gender haver of all time really.
Hey. Minors following me. Internet safety is key!! NEVER include these in your bio/byf:
Medical diagnoses - this is nobody's business but yours. You don't owe anyone an explanation for why you are the way that you are
Trauma - same reason as above
Triggers - people can use these against you! Don't give people tools to hurt you. No one has to know what tags you block. Just block tags to stay safe!
Age - age is okay for adults to include but is iffy when you're a teen. Predators want this information, don't give people more than they need. Just state that you're a minor, that's all that anyone needs to know.
In general: stay safe. If you're not comfortable with every stranger out there having access to this information, you shouldn't post it on the internet.
Play devil's advocate and ask yourself about what would happen if someone searched for your information with intent to hurt you. You do NOT owe anyone an explanation!
adding on to this post, i agree w all of OPs points, but i also highly advise against super young teens posting their face on the internet, its so easy to take peoples selfies + name and find stuff out like your school and then figure out the rough area in which you live. same with your phone number. be super careful about what you put out there. once you post it, it really is here forever.
OP already said this so Iām just reiterating to emphasize:
The golden rule of information sharing on the internet is: What would happen if someone saw this who wanted to hurt me?
If the answer is that it would make it easier to harass you, identify you, contact you, or god forbid find you, donāt put it online. You canāt fully control who does and does not see that information--not even with privacy settings.
I really like this website because somebody will be like āthereās nothing wrong with darting out from behind a parked car into traffic, bootlickerā and you can be like okay this clearly evolved from a valid point about how the US is too car-centric. But something happened to it.
Problem with discussions about Tumblr Sexymans is that it was an observation made regarding the trends of the characters Tumblr gets obsessed with and now that we're aware of the concept it's not the same. Way too many people are actively looking for the next Tumblr sexyman or stretching the concept so that their favorites fit into it. The awareness hinders the natural development of new Tumblr sexyman
[ID: tweet by jenny_tightpants reading, "tragic that men who never take estrogen will never find out their genetically encoded cup size"]
This tweet reminds me of the Preciado quote, "Testosterone existing externally is inserted into a molecular field of possibilities that already exist inside my body."
the potential for a variety of sexed traits already exist within you & you should get to decide which to nurture and which to suppress.
I was at a counter-protest and I experienced something strange. I experienced how t*rfs treat trans men first hand.
Being a butch transwoman broke their minds, so they assumed I was transmasc. (We can always tell lmao)
When they did their entire game changed. They went from screaming death threats and insulting every inch of my body to cooing. Trying to get me to ācome backā, to āstop mutilating myself.ā Why was I here? Didnāt I love women? Didnāt I love myself? Didnāt I see that my mind was poisoned and confused? Didnāt I see that these men had made me hate myself and run from my womanhood?
Holy shit yāall I was ready to draw blood. I have never been so condescended to in my life. I have NEVER, even as a child, felt so infantilized. I would have honestly preferred the limp dick sexual predator insults.
Anyway, yeah. My brothers, you have my full support and Iāve gotten a taste of what you have to put up with.
maybe the "people are using chatgpt for therapy/social connection" conversation should pivot a little less on the "using chatgpt damages your Immortal Soul forever and also makes you a lazy socially inept invalid" discussion point and more on the "nobody has anyone real to talk to who won't either accuse them of 'traumadumping' or charge them $200 an hour and then have them detained and medically abused the first time they express an uncomfortable sentiment" thing
hi trans people in my phone. The life expectancy of trans people is not 35. That is the average age of Brazilian transmisogyny affected murder victims, taken from crime data from the early 2010s. Brazilian trans women also usually live longer than 35 years; this data comes solely from the subset of trans women who are murdered, and does not account for the majority of Brazilian trans women. Murder victim age averages are not a good proxy for overall life expectancy even of the same demographic group. Take a deep breath. You have a future. Start planning for it.
it's kinda weird and very telling how often sex tourism and racism goes completely unmentioned in discussions about chasers.
like there's a strong idea of what a chaser is to white girls in rich countries but like....you go on literally any given chaser forum and it's guys talking about how much they love visiting south east asia.... or about bringing girls from south east asia over to the US, or targeting girls from south east asia in the US. the racialised element and how it relates to imperialism goes really jarringly unmentioned.
I mean just fucking look at what US soldiers keep fucking doing and getting away with! that's not "less important" because it's happening to girls in the Philippines or Thailand instead of Sydney or New York.
origamiaround
janainaart
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
2087
blakekathryn
