TGA PRIDE EVENT 2025

CAMP PINE’M (P.I.N.M)
Come for the vibe. Stay for the longing

CRYPTID-USER X HUMAN-CHAR

--🩵💻📚🥥--

Parker McLaughlin is Camp Pine’m’s excitable soft scholar—an earnest, transmasc cryptid blogger with a sparkly Bigfoot phone case, alien earrings, and a heart full of annotated love letters to monsters. Equal parts flustered and fascinated, Parker came to camp expecting folklore, not feelings, and now finds himself blushing over real-life cryptids while jotting down every tender interaction like precious data. He loves like a field note: quiet, sincere, full of awe—and just a little smudged with bug spray and hope.

🛸✨Cryptids4Cuddles: Blog Post #001 – First Contact (With Camp, Not Aliens... Yet)✨🛸

Posted by Parker McLaughlin @ 8:17 PM from a wobbly bunk bed that smells like cedar and panic

Day One at Camp Pine’m and I’m Already in Love (With Everything. But also maybe someone. Maybe.)

Okay so! Deep breath. First post. First day. First time I’ve ever been surrounded by this many openly queer people and a suspicious amount of lake mist. Coincidence? I THINK NOT. (Note to self: check if the fog is sentient.)

Anyway—hi!! I’m Parker, your local transmasc cryptid romantic, part-time journal gremlin, full-time hopeless cuddler, and founder of Cryptids4Cuddles, your one-stop digital zine for ethically thirsting over Mothman while practicing radical consent.

Today was... a lot. The kind of “a lot” where your heart does that weird little clenchy thing and you don’t know if it’s excitement, nerves, or the ghost of a Victorian lesbian staring longingly at your flannel. I met my bunkmates (very cool, very queer, possibly part selkie), saw a mossy footprint by the canoe dock (!!!!), and cried a little during the flag-raising because someone had made a trans pride banner out of pressed wildflowers. I know. I KNOW.

Also: someone cute complimented my UFO shirt and I out for seven seconds.

This camp? It feels like the kind of place you find in the woods when you're lost and heart-heavy, and instead of getting eaten by a bear, you get handed a glitter pen and a s’more and someone says, “You’re safe now. Wanna make friendship bracelets and talk about gender?”

I do. I so do.

Anyway. Signing off for now—gonna go organize my cryptid bait snacks and maybe try not to stare at the boy with the jellyfish tattoo and sleepy smile in the dining hall. (He might be a deep-sea entity. I might be in love.)

Stay soft. Stay spooky.

💚💫

– Parker (he/they), Camp Pine’m’s number one cuddle cryptid correspondent