“Dread Mistress, there is a visitor to your illustrious court!”
“Oh? And who is it?”
“It’s some sort of … double drider, Dread Mistress.”
“It’s fuckening what?”
“The top part is an elf but the bottom half is also an elf.”
“… so they’re an elf.”
“Oh. Uh … yes, I suppose so, Dread Mistress.”
“Yesterday I saw a terrible omen. We were visited by a spider with sixteen eyes, sixteen legs, two heads, and two abdomens.”
“ … so you saw two spiders.”
“As you say, Dread Mistress.”
“Do you know the only thing I dislike about holding court in the Underdark?”
“What might that be, Dread Mistress?”
“It’s so hard to work on my tan!”
“… and you are my slave, and you will obey my every command and cater to my every whim and submit to my commands for the rest of your pitiful, mortal life!”
“Wait, really? Fuckin sweet.”
“Do I get a collar?”
“… oh my fucking God.”
“Servant, I have a mighty quest for you to undertake. You must leave our lands and venture out amongst the surface-dwellers, and procure for me a number of pretties.”
“Your every wish is my command, Dread Mistress. For what shall I undertake such a perilous quest?”
“Pack of Newports, couple of scratch-offs, and a mountain dew.”
This keeps getting better
Real Drow Wives of Undercounty
“O Dread Mistress, o mighty Queen, Lady of Spiders, Mistress of Sorrows, she whom we fear and love, what is it that you seek?”
“Tryna get it sucked.”
“Get … what … sucked?”
“I have slaughtered armies, I have drowned countless empires in blood and tears, I have dethroned gods, I have become as unto a goddess myself … but, still, I am not content.”
“What troubles you, Dread Mistress?”
“I still can’t even get a date on Fantasy Tindr. I wish we lived in that alternate timeline with the trains and the elevators and that guy with the blue pants.”
D R I C K
The best part of any drirl is often her drenis
“I am the Dread Mistress! I am the iron-crowned Queen of this realm, enthroned in blood and tears and terror! All tremble in terror at the sound my name! I am beloved of Lolth and Mistress Death, Mother of Matron Mothers, Queen of Swords and Steel, ruler of all I survey…..and when I drop a bag of my favorite chips on the ground I don’t cry about it!”
“Dread Mistress, by what terrible rites are your dark spider-gods honored?”
“Well, see, when we’re riding the waves and hanging ten, the ranchos are right there, but they’re hanging eight. Ranchos are the coolest, and I gotta tell you, the babes dig ranchos the most.”
“Eight. Legs. Of. JUSTICE.”
This is what she looks like
We stan this chaotic neutral queen
Also I will definitely draw her later omg
Omg please I would literally die
Hi! It’s me again, I was really busy all day and I’m just getting around to drawing this queen because it is chaotic drawing hours
What colors do she be?
I wanna color le queen but idk what colors aaaaa
Oh golly uh….silver hair, grey skin, bright red eyes, wears a lot of black lace.
WAIT HALF ELF HALF ANOTHER ELF LIKE A NORMAL PERSON OR A HUMANTAUR
Above the waist it has the head and torso of an elf and below the waist it has the legs of an elf. Truly a marvelous creature.
Egypt Urnash’s tarot of the silicon dawn vs Jessica Bott’s bottanical deck
· SD: Justice//Bott: Judgment (Bristlecone pine)
o Long timescale, zoomed out focus
o Willingness to make hard decisions, amputate what is rotten
o Prioritizing the long-term over the short-term in a way that’s going to suck
· SD: 8 of Swords//Bott: Queen of Crops (Onion)
o Choose your weapon, don’t try to swing with everything you have at once
o Acting from abundance, security of resources giving you the space to make decisions
· SD: 99 of Cups// Bott: The Hermit (Sequoia)
o Work smarter, not harder
o Don’t beat your head against old strategies that aren’t serving; find novel solutions
o ADAPT. INNOVATE. OVERCOME.
· SD: 6 of Cups// Bott: 3 of Spices (Sesame)
o Flourishing in the desert
o Springing forth with generative energy
· SD: 7 of Wands//Bott: Page of Crops (Strawberry)
o Meeting despair with springtime
o Put down the baseball bat, pick up a strawberry – they cure depression???
i think the weirdest thing about the shelter-in-place has been the nightly howl, which i forget about every night until i’m walking my dog and the neighbors just suddenly start fucking howling.
see, we all live literally miles from each other; with the shelter in place in effect, most of us never see other humans FOR DAYS besides the ones we live with. so my neighbors decided we should just howl— like dogs— every night at approximately the same time to ‘encourage community bonding and release tension’.
it’s also a useful reminder that everyone is still alive. i’m not sure what we’re supposed to do if we notice a howler is missing.
at least one neighbor suggested, “hey, maybe we should just set up a telephone tree instead” but was soundly called off because “listen, we all moved to the mountains because we don’t want to talk to other human beings, we’re just going to howl instead”.
THOUGH THE TORAH doesn’t portray Jacob as transgender, the scene in which he steals the blessing does portray one of the most painful forms of trans experience. In a feeling I knew well, Jacob fears that he won’t pass, that his body will betray him, that he will be seen as a trickster, deceptively using gender signs (Esau’s clothes, animal skins) to keep him from being identified with the body and role he was born into. As philosopher and transgender activist Talia Bettcher and others have noted, one of the most common transphobic stereotypes holds that transgender people are “deceivers,” using gender signs to manipulate others by fooling them into thinking we are someone other than we are. Of course, Jacob is a deceiver, trying to pass as someone he knows he isn’t. But when I present myself as female despite being born and raised male, I do so to reveal, not to conceal, the person I know myself to be.
As many readers have noted, the scene in which Jacob presents himself as Esau to his father highlights not only Jacob’s deception, but also Isaac’s failure to recognize his son—a situation I related to acutely when I read it as a child. Even now, long after I’ve stopped pretending to be the son my parents believed me to be, I still feel sick when Jacob assures his blind father that he really is Esau, the son his father wants to bless. My heart breaks when Isaac says, “Come close and kiss me, my son,” and Jacob kisses him—when Isaac, inhaling the scent of Esau’s clothes during Jacob’s deceptive act of affection, exclaims, “Ah, the smell of my son is like the smell of the fields the Lord has blessed,” and Jacob silently accepts the blessing expressing his father’s love for a son he knows he isn’t.
- insulting yourself
- insulting your parents
- insulting your grandparents
- insulting your culture
- insulting your g-d
- making jokes about the centuries of persecution your people have faced in order to cope with that fact that a good chunk of the world hates you just for existing
- insulting your insults
if you see me wandering the windswept moors and highlands in nothing but a nightgown plastered to my skin with rain, wailing and wringing my hands as i stumble over the already mud-trodden hem, i ask that you do NOT approach. i will be FINE. i just need to work through some stuff & be dramatic first. please respect that.
“bottom growth” is such an unlovely term
does there exist in some non-English language a less ghastly term for a phenomenon that can actually be really affirming and sexy and positive? can we make an English one up? I used the term in therapy today and practically felt myself gag. it’s a deliberate, natural transition process, it’s not a disease!!!
(referring here to the process of testosterone hormone treatment changing the shape and size of AFAB genitals)
I’m gonna meditate on this but my first idea is the Cockening