Teresa

@dimreaper.bsky.social

1330 Followers 477 Following

(they/them) agender author, goat farmer, martial artist, indigenous, communist. FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸 Abolish ICE Published Works: www.tdgonzalez.com

Image shows a hand drawn map of the Kingdom of Beder featuring a dragon drawn over the maps title. The capital city of Salmorel sits in the upper right corner. Another large city called Carta is on the coast in the bottom right. Between them is a valley and then further west lies a very large forest called the Borwith Forest. Near that in the far north is a small village with a temple called Paret.
Image shows a book titled “The Widow’s Vampire” and the cover depicts a full moon shining over a field of marigolds
Image shows willem dafoe as Norman Osborn
Image shows Viggo Mortensen as Strider/Aragorn lookin fine as hell with the grunge ranger look and his bicep field bandaged
Image shows an altar with collection of animal bones, leaves, and candles with blood dripped across and filling a shell on the altar left of center at the feet of a black figure of a man and two silver-white feathered wings behind his back. The background is a white plaster half wall and a brown blanket half draped across it
Image shows Teresa’s profile (They/them) agender author, goat farmer, martial artist, indigenous, communist Published works: www.tdgonzalez.com Banner image shows a deer skull, dead leaves, and animal bones of various kinds dripped with animal blood, and lit candlesticks Pfp shows a black cat sitting slouched in front of an open laptop
Pansexual flag
"The text of HR 2616 says it would prohibit any school that receives federal funding from teaching "concepts related to gender ideology." LGBTQ+ advocates warn the legislation could effectively bar teachers and school staff from acknowledging transgender identities in classrooms, libraries, or student support settings. Earlier versions and related House proposals also explicitly categorized material involving 'gender dysphoria or transgenderism' as inherently "sexual," language critics argued which treated the mere existence of trans people as inappropriate for children. It could also forcibly out students who are transgender to their families before they feel ready, or even safe, doing so."
Image shows a honeybee inside a cucumber blossom
Imane Khelif posing in an incredible suit for Vogue
A video showing an interview with Olivia Andre, a 15yr old girl released from ICE custody after Ms Rachel brought attention to her case.
Hi Eliwood, no need to apologize for reaching out. I'll address first things first: the only hurt you caused was shutting me out instead of owning your outsized reactions. You lashed out unnecessarily at me and your other friends while we tried to help you. I determined that continued business association with you was likely unwise given your inability to regulate, but I said very specifically that I intended to remain friends. And yet, instead of demonstrating accountability, you unfriended me on Discord which demonstrated to me that you had no intentions of discussing the issue with me, then blocked me on Bluesky (then unblocked me, but I still saw it) and have yet to actually address your anger at me. Your defensiveness and avoidance was clear enough to me that you’re unlikely to approach anything else with maturity, so I made the decision on my own to leave the CWSG server. I simply didn’t foresee a comfortable environment while you continued to avoid and deflect rather than behave as an adult. Given the life issues happening and still coming, I did what was best for my mental health. I certainly hope you take steps to address your own mental health and if can you handle relationships with friends with humility.
Image shows a flyer by Hook and Quill Press that says “thank you very Nush! We’re raising money for art! Hook & Quill Press is working with @ Nush deco.bsky.social to commission a custom banner for our social media. Want to help us out so we can pay Nush? Check out our Patreon and Ko Fi!
“I definitely feel safe to be myself in women’s sports,” Ranson told the Star Tribune. “Although I don’t identify as a woman, I still feel included. I’m proud to be part of women’s soccer because of how supportive and how much of a community it is.”
image shows an artistic representation of the Formic homeworld in Ender's Game. Spiky, organic-looking towers rise from ground that is pockmarked with tunnels and caves.
image shows cross section of the Edwards Aquifer. On the left is the Texas Hill Country labeled "Drainage area" where rainfall is caught and drains into the Edwards Aquifer water table which flows downhill to a Recharge Zone, then flows further downhill to springs in the Artesian zone.
Image shows the inside of a melipona (stingless bee) hive with brood cells toward the bottom of the picture and honey pits at the top
image shows clay pots inside melipona hive filled with honey and pollen
Image shows a stock image of a fantasy greenhouse with many tiers of plants growing under a domed ceiling.
Image shows the hive of the Melipona, aka Mexican stingless bee. Bees crawl on structures made of wax and clay that resemble thick stalagmites which are hollow, and an opening in the top shows small cups which are the brood cells where the larvae are housed, some are open and empty and some are occupied and closed with a wax seal. Around the brood cells are large clay cups with small openings and these are the honeypots
She woke up probably a second later. Her father was at her side, his glasses sliding off his nose. “Oh, dear—oh, dear,” he muttered. “I… I’m alright,” she stammered. Her head was swimming. Dozens of people stood over her, staring, and something hot touched her face. Blood. She saw the capsized cart a few feet away and was relieved it didn’t land on her. Her arm was under her body, so she squirmed to free it. Flaming pain made her cry out. “Out of the way,” a deep voice rose over the noise. “Step aside, please.” The crowd parted, whispering as they moved back, and then everyone bowed to the ground. Azrael gasped, and Larathel’s mouth fell open as Sangor himself knelt in front of her. “Child, can you hear me?” he said. If a mountain could speak, she was sure it would sound like that. “Y-yes,” she answered. “You’ve hit your head,” he said gently. “Please, let me help you.” She was dazed but didn’t dare protest. The god picked up her black headscarf and handed it to her father, who looked mortified. As the crowd stared, Sangor placed a hand on the crown of Larathel’s head. Warm, golden light floated above her, and the most delicious feeling ran through her body.
Larathel stood before the mirror and took a deep breath, the book on the bed. She focused on the blue-green fractals that covered her forehead and cheeks. With concentration, she drew upon the power inside her. What would have been a warm glow bubbled like something harder, like molten iron. It rose into her skin, and she directed the heat and wildfire of energy to shape it into the image she held in her mind. The strain was far greater than she had anticipated. Her magic had always worked like a natural extension of herself, but this energy seemed to rebel. She winced but pushed on and willed it to work. Slowly, the tattoos faded from her face, disappearing one curling tendril of ink at a time. As they faded, she gasped in amazement. She had not seen herself this way since… by Charys, not at all in her adult life. Tears sprang into her eyes, and she blinked them back. Her emotions seemed to cling just below the surface these days. The drain on her power was immediate. She quickly learned that keeping her tattoos hidden, a relatively small transformation as it was, required constant concentration, and soon, her focus waned. After only a few moments, she released the magic, and the tattoos spiraled back into existence with a sting. Her face felt tender as if they were brand-new, and she glanced down at the book. If such a simple transformation was this much work, only the gods knew how Sangor became an entirely different creature.
“Sangor! Are you alright?” She sent healing magic into his shoulder, but he grimaced in pain. His eyes went wide in terror. “It’s happening,” he gasped. Larathel’s heart dropped. “What?” “Get away from me,” he groaned. She didn’t have time to think. Steam began to rise from his skin, his bones began to stretch, and his joints popped out of place. His ribs swelled like a barrel. “Hurry! Get away!” he cried. “I can’t stop it!” Larathel summoned her magic, but she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She had a strong stomach after a thousand years of clinical medicine, but this pushed her to her limits. His bones snapped and separated, and his skin looked like it was melting. His clothes fell away in pieces. He screamed in agony until breathing became impossible, and all the while, he was growing. The added weight sunk the boat deeper into the water. Claws dug into the wood, and an extra pair of arms burst from new sockets. Behind him, the others shot terrified glances as they fought with the Sylvans still invading the raft.
Shay stared. The god was insane. Sangor undressed completely, then stuffed his clothes into a pack. “Just remember—there’s no need to be afraid,” he said. He dropped to all fours, and his relaxed demeanor broke as he grimaced, his joints popping out of place. His body swelled and lengthened, ribs expanding, and his spine grew far out of proportion with the rest of his body. Black scales spread over his skin, locking together like mail armor. His fingers stretched, bent backward, and leathery webbing developed between them. All the time, he kept growing, far larger than Shay thought any creature could be. The ground shook, the trees swayed, and stones cracked beneath his weight. A long, snakelike body coiled, filling the little valley deep in the gorge. Wings the size of ships’ sails billowed, and smoke rose in thin tendrils from his nostrils. “Nova above,” Shay breathed in astonishment, staring up at the Dragon. The creature turned, his body scraping the nearest tree. His scales shredded the bark, which rained down to the ground, as Sangor lowered his diamond-shaped head and blinked giant, yellow eyes. Shay trembled, gripped with both terror and fascination. The Dragon lay down carefully, his chin resting on the ground.
Artistic representation (not mine) of the Formic planet
A black cat with yellowish-green eyes plotting crimes
A man being wrong quoting my post where I say “Liberals would love to pretend nobody knew slavery was bad before the Civil War and simultaneously it would never have been stopped without their performative outrage and uselessness, because the truth is so much more sickening: slavery wasn’t stopped by laws and it hasn’t stopped since” And the man quotes with “NONE OF THAT IS TRUE” in all caps without providing a single source to back up his outrageous and erroneous claim, per normal for manchildren.
Clint Eastwood in Rawhide
Photo shows a journal with a brown felt cover and a gold bee and flowers embossed on the cover
Photo shows a hive frame covered in honey, bees, and false comb
“Ambush!” I shout, and the scarab drivers weep fearfully, but there’s no time for coddling. “Go, Holly.” I tighten the straps across my thighs, securing myself to the saddle as she flips and rolls, pulling cables from her spinnerets and tacking them to the rock with her glue to create a web across the canyon. Blue works from the other side of the canyon. The scarabs drag the wagons down into narrow gap and the drivers sit trembling upon their steeds, weapons raised at the sky. I fix the scope to my rifle, and now that Holly has ceased her acrobatics, I take aim and pull the trigger. With a pop and a crack, the lead rider falls from his steed and tumbles down, down, down before striking one of Holly’s cables. He meets the ground in two halves. The mosquitoes dive toward the web, and we open fire. Blood splatters the rocks as more of our attackers take bullets and crash down to their deaths, but they keep coming. Scores of them swarm above the canyon, and then someone tosses several objects that land along the edge of the precipice, where Holly’s webs cling to the rocks. That’s new. “Take cover!” I yell and Holly jumps. She carries me very far, very fast in one great leap that clears the range of flying rocks as the grenades explode. The glue that anchored Holly’s web to the cliff is destroyed, and the cables fly free. Thick ropes of sticky silk snags one of the wagons, and the driver cries out in panic as he is trapped by the glue.
Image is a photograph inside a cave in the Natural Bridge Caverns. The center of the image shows a river of crystal clear water reflecting the cave fixtures above it. There are many clusters of stalactites on the ceiling, and an artificial walkway to the right of the image, almost level with the water’s surface.
Concept art of the Formic world from Ender’s game
He fires the gun. I didn’t expect him to go through with it, so my vampire reflexes kick in too late, and the bullet hits my shoulder. I catch my balance, and then we stare at each other. “What the fuck, Detective?” He gapes. I can’t lift my arm. In fact, nothing from the shoulder down is responding. “I… I’m sorry—please don’t hurt me,” he cries, quickly holstering the gun and raising his hands. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not going to hurt you—no matter how pissed I am right now.” I try to shrug out of my jacket, but it hurts, and I can’t use my left arm at all. Mark comes closer but hesitates because my fangs are out, then helps me tug out of the sleeve. “This is my favorite jacket,” I complain. “By the way, if I was going to eat you, that would’ve been the moment.” He looks aghast. “I’m sorry.” “Yeah, whatever.” I work the sleeve of my t-shirt up as Mark turns on a flashlight. The bullet is stuck in the bone, not very deep. My claws dig it out easily. “That was rude,” I say, pocketing the round. “So was mind-controlling me,” he replies.
Sangor was in a world of darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he felt the crushing weight of Shadow’s roots tangled around him. He gasped, fear shooting through him like lightning. What happened? Where am I? he thought desperately. He squirmed, prying the roots free. He saw visions of mountains that morphed into rolling waves on sandy beaches, but his terror ripped through them. The fog sucked away, revealing the round, stone room. The walls were pale, the floor slick, and he was alone. Where was Shadow? he thought, beginning to truly panic now. This was impossible – he shouldn’t be here. Then a horrible thought struck him. Was he dead? Well, yes, he remembered, but… permanently? This room looked different… it didn’t feel at all like the last time. Someone’s voice began speaking. Sweet child, it crooned, smooth as silk. It came from everywhere and nowhere, rattling his terrified heart. Who are you? What are you doing in this place? Sangor began to reply, but something began to wrap around him again like tentacles. It was slimy, and dreadfully cold. The room grew dark. Are you lost? the voice asked.
She wanted to tell him he was wrong but didn’t know how. He might be right, but it was still wrong that he should feel that way. She reached for words to ease his pain, and before she knew what she was doing or why, her hand went behind his head to the nape of his neck. She tipped his chin up and saw a tiny and sudden spark of hunger in his eyes. As his pulse raced to match hers, her fingers tightened around the tangles of his hair. Then, she remembered where they were and who this was, staring back at her. He looked stunned but not unhappy. She quickly let go. “I’m sorry—I don’t know why I did that,” she said, feeling light-headed. Thankfully, he said nothing.
She lay back on the covers; Ethan pulled her to the edge of the bed and then parted her legs. Her moans fueled my passion; crouching above her, I took her tongue into my mouth. When her gasps became so frequent that she struggled to catch her breath, I lay down with her head resting in the crook of my elbow as I watched Ethan, his muscled body rising over her, filling her, and I focused my joy, my desire, my pleasure, at him. I sent him thoughts of appreciation of his body and hers and their beauty together. I sent him my love for him and Vileen, and he shivered. His glassy black eyes met mine as his hands gripped Vileen’s thighs, and his lips parted in ecstasy as his movement became more vigorous. Vileen cried out, and her body arched as she climaxed. They collapsed on the bed, breathless and silent as Vileen smiled, her cheeks flush. “I love you,” he told her, tenderly kissing her shoulder. “I love you, too,” she said. Her voice was thick and soft. Ethan picked her up, cradling her in his arms until he lay her on the pillow, and she stretched languidly. Then he crawled to me on hands and knees with a fire in his eyes. “I love you,” he said. He buried his face in my neck, kissing me, and my fingers wound through his hair. Electricity fired through every nerve in my body. I love you, I thought, and he shuddered with gratification.
“I know,” she says, stepping nearer, and I fight the urge to retreat. Cautiously, she places her hand on my chest, where my heart sits motionless. She looks sad, and I can’t tell if it’s for me or someone else. “What do you feel?” she asks. “I feel you,” I tell her shakily. “I feel a lot of things.” I’m trying to focus on her face instead of the blood I haven’t tasted yet. The stress has increased my hunger, and I can feel her pulse through her hand. Mine should be racing, but it isn’t. She smells so sweet, and I imagine that her blood probably is, too. She takes my hand, turning it over, and I know what she wants to see. The claws emerge, bone pressing through skin. Her mouth opens in astonishment and then, shock of shocks, she moves in and kisses me. It’s curious and gentle, an exploratory kiss. I’m both surprised and delighted until my fangs push, and I pull back, clamping my jaw shut. My claws retract, and I shove my hands into my pockets. “What’s wrong?” she asks, startled. “I need a second.” She studies me, and the longer I stay silent, the more worried she looks. “It’s hard to keep my fangs in when emotions are high,” I admit.
book cover for The Widow's Vampire by me, TD Gonzalez
The book cover for The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffeneggar
The lord of the rings by JRR Tolkien
Cover of The Giver by Lois Lowry
Image shows cover of Before You Go, a book by Kelly Heard
A book cover titled The London Seance Society by Sarah Penner
The cover of a book, “The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue” by VE Schwab
He stood up on his bleeding, broken leg and crushed the Sylvan’s neck with one hand, letting the body fall to the ground. He grabbed the next one and snapped its neck, tossing it aside. Finally, he reached out his hand. His sword uprooted itself and flew twenty feet through the air, and he chopped the third Sylvan in half with one fluid strike. Iselde stood stone-still, gaping at him. “Hello, Captain; well done,” Sangor said, limping past her. He paused, stuck the sword in the ground, then folded his leg in the right direction. That done, he snatched up the sword again and continued walking. “Where is the boy? Is he still in the trees?” he asked. When they didn’t speak, he looked perplexed, then impatient. “Well?” he said. “Answer the question, one of you—we’re wasting time standing here.” Larathel felt as if she were about to explode. Sangor was alive, talking, and apparently unbothered by the red, gaping hole in his abdomen and glistening ribs on display, or that he had only one arm. Blood dripped from his hair in ropes “Sangor?” she stammered. “You’re… alive.” “Yes, try to focus.”
The cover of a book titled “The Widow’s Vampire” written by me, TD Gonzalez
cover of Tallgrass a novel by Sandra Dallas
A book cover of Vampires of El Norte by Isabel Cañas
The cover of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
The cover of Erasure, a book by Percival Everett
Cover of Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao featuring the MC Zetian in battle armor
The cover of Mary Shelley’s book Frankenstein featuring a hand reaching out of the ground.
Illustration by Brian Floca of an owl named Mr Ocax from the book Poppy
Cover for Shel Silverstein’s “Falling up” translation in Spanish, “Cayendo hacia arriba”
Books titled Charlie Brown’s Cyclopedias the front two books are numbered 3 and 7 and contain content on dinosaurs and space, respectively
The cover of Artemis Fowl by Elon Colfer, featuring Artemis himself in a suit and sunglasses, holding the golden Book