the-eldritch-it-gay
I intended to conquer, to tear down, this language
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦. Salamatullah/Ciarán. 24. They/Them. Two-Spirit. Mixed Indigenous Mexican (Nahua). Latine. 🇲🇽🇺🇸. Muslim. Niqabi. Disabled. Insane. Lover of horror, language, textiles, BG3, DA and Star Trek
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stop looking at me respectfully and start looking at me like a coyote looks at a fully stocked henhouse
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Somebody just went to a brothel and signed a deal with a devil and got yelled at by their gf.
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reblog to bonk prev with yr forehead like a cat
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okay americans i gotta ask because as an European i grew up with lots of american shows and cartoons and in a lot of them there was an episode where they give the protags a doll or an egg or a bag of flour or whatever and told them pretend to be its parents or something
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Personally one of the lines that Hurt me was
#there is just something in general so tragic about how much Majexatli thinks about how their life could have been#but specifically their focus on the child they never had is heartbreaking
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UPDATE: Food Packages!
Hussam managed to put together 150 food packages with feta cheese, halva, biscuits, sugar, salt, yeast, cooking oil, tomato sauce, and canned legumes! He also put together another set of 200 vegetable packages.
Thanks to all your help, Hussam’s able to put together packages like these to feed the people of Gaza in the midst of such a difficult time! There’s a special message in the video to everyone, so please take the time to watch it!
Please continue donating and spreading the word — every penny means so much! Feel free to share our campaign link to other platforms as well!
Donate to our GoFundMe which goes directly to Hussam, who manages camps in Rafah, with NO middleman in between!
HelpGazaChildren Notion Site || #helpgazachildren tag
GoFundMe Link
[ID: Video of packages of food with the aforementioned items displayed infront of the packages to showcase the contents. There is a 'Tumblr' sign in front the packages and the '#helpgazachildren' tag underneath them. There is a second part to the video where we see plastic bags of veggies. The tumblr sign is infront of these packages as well.]
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Being a hero is knowing exactly who to hate.
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“Wake now, you’ll feel better,”
The words of the dream visitor echoed in Majexatl’s mind, even as they tasted bile in their mouth, clothes nearly soaked through with sweat, hands clenched into fists so hard they were numb despite the dried blood crusting around their fingers and palms where their nails had dug into the skin.
Him.
It couldn’t be him.
Could it?
His face was burned into their mind, as much as they wanted time to erase it, the memories haunted them every time they closed their eyes.
Yet… this wasn’t a memory. He wasn’t a memory. When Majexatli last saw his face, it was youthful and soft, the face of someone who had yet to live 3 decades. When they last had seen him, their own face had been young, their horns not fully grown.
When Majexatli looked at their reflection now, they could see the lines on their face, crows feet at the corner of their eyes, far too much grey in their hair than there should be. Wherever he was, he wouldn’t be as aged as them, elves aged differently, even though he was older than them. He would look like—
The figure in their dream, face more angular, the faintest lines on his forehead, around eyes that reflected more experience, even as his hair was still vibrant bronze like a sunset. Young by elven standards, without any of the deep lines on Majexatli’s face, without the salt-and-pepper hair that seemed to grow more grey by the year.
If things had gone slightly differently, their child would have barely looked younger than him.
Majexatli felt like they were going to be sick. Despite that, they couldn’t seem to stop their mind from playing the dream over and over in their mind.
The tenderness in his eyes, the way he had gently stroked their feverish forehead, carefully pushing back the stray hairs matted to their face with sweat.
“I came just in time,”
Their stomach lurched as they quickly shoved their face into their makeshift pillow to muffle the sob that escaped their lips.
The sound echoed faintly off the stone, Majexatli could only hope they were far away enough from the main camp that whatever noise carried could be dismissed as distant noises from the Goblin camp on the other side of the ruins.
Majexatli wasn’t sure if the sob was of fear, of disgust, of despair. Did they feel sick and breathless and terrified from seeing his face, hearing his voice, feeling his hands on their skin? Or was it because they woke up alone, woke up having to remember everything they lost, having to remember everything they did just to feel his warmth, having to remember that they had never earned that tenderness even when they had been dying in front of him—
Another sob escaped their lips, barely muffled by their pillow.
Their companions had set up tents and bedrolls and a fire in a large open hall, still largely intact, though in poor state after so many years abandoned. A few smaller chambers connected to the space, and Majexatli had taken their bedroll into one of them, a space that perhaps once was a chapel.
They didn’t trust themselves in their sleep, they always slept with a dagger or two within reach. Majexatli liked their companions, they wanted to trust them, but even that wouldn’t stop them if one of them startled Majexatli in their sleep or got too close during prayer—
Or a nightmare.
But this wasn’t a nightmare, it was real. It wasn’t like any of the nightmare’s Majexatli had become so accustomed to. How many times did they close their eyes and see his face as it was back then, how many times did they fall asleep and find themselves once again a trembling youth kneeling before him, how many times did they wake up screaming and only to have to remember they were decades and hundreds of miles away from what was in their dreams.
This was different. He was different. He spoke to them, not as an echo of a memory, he looked at them and saw Majexatli not the Asha they had been—
An illithid trick, it had to be. It had to be. It had to be. A side effect of the parasite in their brain. But why would it chose him, why him. And why did he look older, why did seem so real and three-dimensional instead of a ghost of the past replaying the same moments over and over again. How could it be him?
With each rapid breath, they could feel the wounds on their back threatening to split open, they hadn’t even bothered to tend to them or dress them after leaving Abdirak’s bloodied shrine.
Majexatli remembered Lae’zel’s promise the previous night, that she would finish off everyone if the sickness didn’t pass by dawn. Camp was quiet, though, the sound of some speaking soundly, others beginning to stir quietly. No screams of agony or snapping bones, it seemed the visitor was telling the truth, that he would protect them from ceremorphosis.
Yet, Majexatli couldn’t help but want to lay there, let Lae’zel find them still feverish and sickly and let her slit their throat. Maybe someone would bury them with a tenderness they didn’t deserve.
Someone would stop Lae’zel, though, before she could give them the death they deserved. For some reason everyone at camp seemed to like them, look to them for guidance. No one would let Lae’zel end their suffering like this.
Wildshape came to them too easily, it was even easier to sneak out of camp, prowl the decrepit temple ruins. Majexatli needed the hunt, needed to sink their teeth into something and forget.
The goblin was one they recongized as being one of the torturers. He hardly put up a fight. Majexatli let their fear bleed out with his blood.
As they returned to camp, mind clearer, they tried to rationalize it. It must have been an illithid trick, some strange manipulation or symptom of ceremorphosis. Walking back to their bedroll, though, Majexatli didn’t feel alone. They could feel something watching them, something with them.
A memory came to mind. Uninvite, sickening and bitter.
An elven hair stick, set with turquoise.
“The stone will let me find you wherever you are, so you never have to be alone,”
They had pried the stone from the stick decades ago, smashed it to dust and left the pieces scattered miles apart across the Northwest. But they hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to have that stone. It was like being in a cage, like having clipped wings, like having a leash around their throat.
They had sworn they would never let themselves be captive like that again.
But here they were.
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Jicarilla Apache man, United States of America, by NPS
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i know theres a lot happening rn, but this week is national week of action for MMIWR, if you can please look for any events near you, especially for red dress day (may 5), look into working for your local mmip group or organization, learn the statistics, wear red, or contact your representatives.
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Okay I stayed up WAY too late but the ART FEELINGS would not leave me and I made something really cool!!
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Finally found something that seems to be working well on my body acne. I wish I didn’t have acne though, fucking sucks.
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not to add to the “inshallah” discourse but it seems extra racist, ridiculous, and orientalist for middle american whites to use because we literally have “god willing.” in english—it means the exact same thing but clearly it’s not abt that. 🤔🤔🤔🤔
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When Everything Everywhere All at Once said “The only thing I do know is that we have to be kind. Please, be kind, especially when we don’t know what’s going on"
When the Good Place said “Why choose to be good every day when there is no guaranteed reward now or in the afterlife… I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.”
When Jean-Paul Sartre said ”‘Hell is other people’ is only one side of the coin. The other side, which no one seems to mention, is also ‘Heaven is each other’. Hell is separateness, uncommunicability, self-centeredness, lust for power, for riches, for fame. Heaven on the other hand is very simple, and very hard: caring about your fellow beings.“
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Can I say something is it finally safe to say that I don't find the popular trend of white people on this site who aren't muslim saying inshallah for jokes funny and I never did
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