It's time for a bio updateâsomething a little more me for 2024. A lot has changed for me. I've transplanted across a country, started a new career, and pursued more education. I've grown a little less idealist, maybe a little more bureaucratic. I am much more influenced by logic, probably more than I have ever been. I've aged, calmed, and gained confidence in myself. I hope to take this time and confidence and find a space to see what this new version of myself can create.
I don't have a lot of time to write. I post infrequently and often go through lulls where no writing ideas pop into my head. However, I always come back to Tumblr because this site provides a sense of expression and freedom I can't find anywhere else on the internet. I'm here to write, share ideas, have fun with self-expression, and experience the art words that others have to share.
I love to read all kinds of writing content. Poetry, prose, stories, novels, fanficâyou name itâI consume it.
I'm comfortable writing poetry and flash fiction, but I'm trying to branch out into longer works, like short stories or maybe even novels.
Relationship Conflicts that donât Center Romance
a healer in a plague-stricken city discovers their apprentice is immune to the symptoms, but also a silent carrier that is actively spreading the disease
two friends running a small criminal operation are offered immunity if one testifies against the other, but both begin separately planning to take the fall to protect the otherâs future
a successful warlord meets their former apprentice, who has become a pacifist negotiator
after growing up in an extremely toxic environment, one sibling wants to leave and the other doesnât understand why
when one of the kids of a supernatural hunter family is turned into a werewolf, their sibling needs to dismantle their belief system to help keep them safe
finding out that they only got their job because a friend pulled some strings without telling them causes someone to reevaluate their skill and success
former roommates at an academy for muscle-for-hire meet again. one has become a bodyguard, the other an assassin, and both now have the same mark
after finding out their best friend betrayed them years ago, they chose to get revenge now, as the pain is fresh
a spirit becomes accidentally attached to a random disaster of a person and helps them tackle everyday life
[Prompt Calender: June 5th, Aromantic Visibility Day]
What the week is about: It's a special week to celebrate the trilogy, our Shepard, the characters, the universe, the lore!!! Make it your week as much as you want, by posting, liking and reblogging what you really enjoy as a fandom participant. Have fun! :)
How is it different from any other week? Appreciation weeks can get people excited about a specific fandom and be more active. It can bring more fandom content. The fact that there's one tag that fandom can check every day of that week is very nice for everyone who wants to share their thoughts and fanworks. It's also a good week to find friends in fandom! So if you're new, enjoy!!!
What can be posted in the tag: Fan fics, fanart, gifs, picspams, meta, memes, fanvids, etc.
What can't be posted in the tag: Avoid bashing ships and characters, respect other people, don't be a bigot, etc. Apply the usual fandom rules that mean we can all share a nice space together. Be mindful that other people think differently than you and that's okay.
Prompts
They can help to inspire and motivate you. You don't have to follow them but here they are below.
@gravitonspike suggested those prompts (thank you!):
Day 1- Background / "I like the person it's made of you"
Day 2- Choice / "This ends now"
Day 3- Alien / "The food of my people"
Day 4- Ship/AI or After the war
Day 5- Citadel / "Big place!"
Day 6- Love / Laugh / "I'll protect you"
Day 7- N7 / Free Space
And here are mine:
Day 1- Shepard (Background/Identity/Picture)
Day 2- Shepard's relationships (Friends/Li/Lovers/Family)
Day 3- Characters (Traits/Quirks/Meaning)
Day 4- Non-Shepard Relationships (Romance/Friendship/Family/Care)
Day 5- Ships/Universe (Normandy/Miky Way)
Day 6- Lore (Leviathans/Reapers/Citadel/Protheans/...)
Day 7- End/Future - "Thank you Mass Effect for..."
Enjoy!!!!!! :)
And if you're interested, you can also participate this summer in a Mass Effect Andromeda Appreciation Week!
An Angel of Iron is a rare an esteemed title bestowed upon few by the council: a gifted transformation for the devoted and selfless. Rebirth for those who give themselves to the collective's pursuit of prosperity. The Angels of Iron are an aspirational goal for all who live in the community. To live in a such a way to be deemed worthy of ascension. To spend their remaining days in a glimmering metallic realm on high.
It was an honor, and she was elated when chosen. The council deemed her record of service stellar, calling her a ray of sunshine in a dark place. A friend to all neighbors, and beloved by the people. Upon her nomination, the community erupted with joy and renewed vigor. They sought to hold a lavish feast in her honor. They gathered their food stamps and water rations, thrifted decorations, and bartered with landowners for a gathering space. They celebrated her: their Angel of Iron, ready for ascension, worthy of a holy place. Then, when it was time, they sent her off for her transformation. Tears of joy and bittersweet goodbyes flowed through the unpaved streets. Woots and wails echoed from open windows. A parade of pedestrians followed her as she approached the council and the transformation chamber.
âAre you ready?â they asked.
She replied, âYes.â
Thus it began.
âOne isnât simply born ready to reach heaven,â they told her. "You must be engineered for ascension. You must embody the title."
So under the blade, the construction began. Iron ribbing implanted into her spine and fused to the backs of her arms. Iridescent fabric, both stunning and strong, stretched across the bars. Bodily imperfections lasered away, cut and tucked. Muscle tissue and respiratory systems mutated to withstand the low atmosphere of the high realm. Under the blade, she was given all the tools necessary for ascension. She was no longer of the world. She was designed for a new beginning.
After recovery, she stood atop the ascension platform, raised on a dais with her new wings outstretched, on display for all her community to behold. They wept and gasped, breath stolen at the sight of a girl they once knew transfigured into this radiant creature. An angel, ready to take flight.
And flight she took, soaring to the realm on high. The land of angels, the land of the worthy. The flight, while beautiful, was solitary. She had time to think about all she was leaving behind: friends, family, community. Years of bonds and memories. Stolen now was the chance to form new ones, for the ascension is a change so profound that return is not an option. She thought how so few are deemed worthy. How so few ascend. She wondered what life would be like in a palace full of perfect strangers.
Her journey complete, She approached the precipice of the realm on high. It was a vast and plush construct in the clouds that shimmered with otherworldly light. It was a place beyond words and definition. Feeling fear, regret, and isolation, she crossed the threshold. The space was vast and undefined, but it housed an ocean. A churning pool of bloodied iron bars swimming in a sea of iridescent fabric. It housed the broken wings of the chosen before her, discarded by those who missed their imperfect homes. With a sardonic smile, she reached for the bars implanted in her back. With an agonizing wail, she ripped them from her flesh and let the bloodied wings join the ocean of privileged regret before her.
She turned from the threshold, hovering a foot above the open air below, her gaze fixed on the world beneath. Taking in the sight, she tilted gently forward, allowing gravity to pull her back to the world she left behind.
We would like to give a big Fluff Boost to Cozytober 2025 over on ao3. They don't have a tumblr, but their prompts are too good not to get a shout-out đĽ°
Please note that we're NOT affiliated with them, we don't claim ownership of these prompts, and we cannot answer any questions regarding this event!
Make sure to head over to their ao3 collection - but as a little teaser, here are their prompts:
So, youâre writing a thing, and you need to name a character. And, as we all know, naming a character is a giant pain in the ass. I offer this list of shit I use pretty regularly, for this purpose.
Behind the Name (The etymologies are weird as fuck, in a few places, but itâs great if youâve got a name and need to find other names that are from or derived from the same culture/language)
Behind the Surname (BTN for family names)
Academy of Saint Gabriel Medieval Names Archive (This is the go-to for medieval names in Europe and the Near East. Hardcore scholarship and a distinct lack of fucking around.)
Kate Monkâs Onomastikon (The original internet name resource.)
The Soldier in Later Medieval England (Actual names from English military rolls around the Battle of Agincourt)
Englandâs Immigrants (Non-native residents of England, 1330-1550)
Celtic Personal Names of Roman Britain
Mapping the Medieval Countryside - People (People appearing in English inquisitions post mortem, 1418-1447)
Wiktionaryâs Index of Biblical Names
Ancient Names Galleria (The weird shit is here. If you need Akkadian or Phoenecian names, those are totally covered.)
Trismegistos People (Names extracted from the Trismegistos Texts â mostly names from Graeco-Roman Egypt.)
Personally, I use the shit out of Trismegistos People, Englandâs Immigrants, and the Ancient Names Galleria. If youâve got good sources I didnât hit, feel free to add them in a reblog. Iâm always looking for more good name resources. (And almost all of what I have is Europe and the Near East, with a little North Africa.)
Dropping this update in the most recent reblog in my notes, in the hopes it falls into as many laps as possible. Hereâs some more good sources for names, this time with a more African focus.
Wikipedia Category: Surnames of African Origin (which is helpfully divided into sections by language)
Wikipedia Category: Amharic Language Names (I believe this list is primarily, if not entirely, given names.)
 YorubaName (âan online intervention to preserve and document all YorĂšbĂĄ names in a multimedia format.â)
Writing Adolescent Fiction: Character names: Kenyan, Tanzanian and Ugandan (a list of given names and surnames with notes on how full names are constructed in each culture listed)
Again, if you know any good sources, particularly for regions I havenât covered, let me know!
So You Want to Name a Sino (a fairly detailed guide on how to name a Chinese character without sounding like too much of a moron)
Most Popular Baby Names for Girls Since 1960 (most popular American girlsâ names, by state, from 1960-2012, as a gif)
Popular Baby Names (the US Social Security database of naming trends in the US, with search options for date, gender, location, and trend)
A Guide to Names and Naming Practises (a UK government guide to common names and structure of names from around the world, split first by continent and then by culture. PDF.)
Curiosities of Puritan Nomenclature (an entire book on trends in English naming and name structure and the Puritan influence, from 1880. PDF.)
Things I am particularly looking for reliable sources for, if youâve got them: North and South American aboriginal names, Southeast and East Asian names, names from the former USSR, Australian aboriginal names. (All of these by culture or language family, if possible, not just by current national borders.)
I wonder why you canât report a post for misinformation? I don't want whole accounts to get in trouble but I do want to be able to halt the reblogging of inaccurate info (most recent issue was mis-info about the Canada Crises line being open to US citizens). If I'm missing a feature let me know.
Bandcamp is a site where you can purchase music from indie artists (they get paid significantly more than via streaming apps), and Bandcamp Friday is a special promo wherein the site waives its fees for that day's sales so that artists can earn even more during this time when performers and entertainers have been struggling.
Here's more info from the announcement post.
I thought they'd ended it last May (this began in 2020), but they're bringing it back for the first Friday of the month for the rest of 2022. So:
September 2nd
October 7th
November 4th
December 2nd
To make sure you're shopping in the correct time zone, check here:
isitbandcampfriday.com
Disclaimer that I'm not an employee or representative of Bandcamp or any artist on the site. Just someone who believes in supporting independent artists who are often at a disadvantage with the big streaming algorithms. Please help spread the word!
A fisherman and a mermaid have lifelong, playful game: whoever catches the most fish gets to keep them. Then one day the fisherman dies and his son comes to continue the game.
Once upon a time, there was an old man and a young girl.
The old man was a fisherman, hauling in fish from the sea to feed his family and village. The young girl was a mermaid, curious and poking her head out to watch the surface.
One day, the fisherman noticed the mermaid. One day, the mermaid noticed the fisherman.
He decided to ignore her. She decided to watch him. The mermaid watched the fisherman haul in his catch. The next day, she brought him a fish.
âI donât need your help,â he scoffed. The mermaid bubbled angrily.
When he came in, he found the fish waiting for him on the dock.
The next day, the mermaid brought the fisherman two fishes. Once again, he rebuffed her help and he found her catch waiting on the dock. The third day, the same thing happened, as well as the fourth, fifth, sixthâŚ
It became a game between the two of them, with who gained the most winning a prize from the other and the choice to keep all the fish. The mermaid liked shiny stuff from the surface, like jewels and flowers and pretty green bottles, stuff that the fisherman could afford with the extra fish. She had enough fish on her own. The fisherman could sell stuff from the sea, like pearls and sea glass and shells, stuff that the mermaid could easily get him.
Soon enough, the sight of them was common to the fishermanâs family and the village. Many enjoyed the sight of the mermaid skipping through the water and jumping over rocks in her hunts and the fishermanâs delighted laughter when the younger got one over on him.
The day the fisherman died, the village brought the coffin so that the mermaid could say goodbye, laying a wreath of shells and sea glass on her friendâs coffin as one last gift.
The next day, the fishermanâs son came to the sea. The mermaid perked up and came close, hoping that he came to continue the game. âHe wanted me to,â the son confirmed, resting his hand on her head.
The mermaid leaned into his touch, content.
She didnât see the knife.
âBut a mermaidâs tail is worth all the fish in the sea.â
For a while now folks have asked us for better ways to connect with other people who share similar interests. Weâre listening, and at Labs weâve been looking into fulfilling that need, Tumblr style.
Introducing Communities, a new place to connect with others on Tumblr:
Here in Labs, weâre working on big ideas that could transform how Tumblr is used, while keeping that Tumblr vibe alive. You can see one of those ideas above. Weâre calling it âCommunitiesâ, a new dedicated space on Tumblr for people to share and discuss all the content they love. Communities can cover topics like your favorite show, artist, movie, video game, your school, your board game group, friend group, big or small, whatever you want.
Each Community has their own semi-private safer space away from the regular dashboard where you can interact with other Tumblr users who share the same interests and passions as you. There are moderators and members (you!), rules, and privacy settings. Each community has its own feed of posts from members, separate from your Following and For You feeds. Interactions within community spaces stay there and replies will work more like a traditional comment section. Folks will be able to reblog posts into a community, but not out â at least not yet.
Weâre very excited for you to try it, and help define the best path forward. What we have is a prototype to help us validate the idea, but thereâs still plenty of questions that need answering. Over the next couple of weeks, weâll be reaching out to people across Tumblr, and the internet at large, to try our prototype. Based on the feedback we get, weâll iterate on the idea to see what resonates best with all of you on Tumblr.
If this sounds interesting, please like, reblog, or reply to this post, and weâll invite you to beta test this feature when we roll it out to a wider Tumblr audience, as a little perk for following the Labs blog.
written for @flashfictionfridayofficial
prompt: FFF252; spill the tea
warnings: none
word count: 731
The attic was old, dusty, stifling. Pale pink insulation fluffed against the walls, looking as soft as cotton candy. When she found herself reaching out a delicate finger, Luna reminded herself of her grandmotherâs words:Â It may look poofy, but you will be wishing you never touched it once you did.
So, she steeled herself and returned to her task.Â
Sometimes she hated old houses.Â
Clouds of ancient dust puffed up in her face as she moved boxes. She needed black heels â the old kind â for her theater production. Her grandmother had offered her the heels. She hadnât offered to help look for them.
âHow much stuff is even in here?â Luna grumbled, as moving away what she thought was the final box only revealed more. Sheâd never thought of her grandmother as a hoarder, but that was exactly what she was.
Arms straining with the motion, Luna lifted the actual final box. This was the heaviest. And as she tried to move it away, her arms decided to give up. The box dropped to the ground, spilling its contents all over the place.
Lunaâs attention was instantly drawn to a small scrapbook. When it crashed to the floor, it had opened to a page of sage green. Pictures of what must have been Lunaâs grandmother as a teenager adorned the pages, along with various others. On one side was a piece of paper - wow! - torn up and stuck to the page.
Today something terrible happened, read the scrawling writing, Iâm afraid June has betrayed me.Â
Lunaâs mind screeched to a halt. Without really processing what she was doing, she tore the letter out of the scrapbook and raced down the attic ladder.
She skidded to a stop right in front of her grandmotherâs room. It was an old-fashioned door, made of wood and not steel. Most of Grandmotherâs things were old.Â
Like the scrapbook.
Luna lifted her hand to knock. One of the things her grandmother had taught her from the good old days was that you had to knock before entering a room. There was no alert system to notify a roomâs occupant of a visitor.
âCome in!â came Grandmotherâs voice, creaky but strong.
Luna pushed open the door. Her grandmother was propped up against the headboard of her bed, pillows as a buffer between the wood â still odd â and her back.Â
At the sight of Luna, Grandmotherâs face broke out into a smile. âAh, Luna.â She gestured to a seat by the bed. âItâs nice to see you.â
 âNice to see you as well, Grandmother.â Luna took a delicate seat on the chair, a hardbacked black one made of wood. She hesitated, then passed the letter from the scrapbook over. âI was looking for your heels, and I found this. I was wonderingâŚâ
Grandmotherâs expression flickered between dark and light. She stared down at the letter. âYou wish to know what June did to me, yes?â At Lunaâs nod, she sighed. âThis will require some knowledge of the past. You see, Luna, one of the most popular phrases back then was spill the tea.â
âSpill the tea?â Luna echoed.Â
âSpill the tea,â Grandmother said. âIt meant gossip, essentially, and poor June was entranced by it. She spilled too much of my tea and didnât have enough napkins to sop it up.â
The train of thought confused Luna, but she stayed silent.
âTherefore, I wrote in this journal. We liked to text a lot, but if you wanted to really express your hate, you wrote about them in your diary.â
âJournaling,â Luna breathed. She couldnât remember the last time Grandmother brought out her old pencil to demonstrate what writing was like when she was a young girl. âSo, June betrayed you by gossiping?â
âPretty much,â Grandmother said. There was a glint in her eye. âBut that wasnât the last of my adventures with JuneâŚâ
Time for my favorite failed reincarnation duo this flash fic friday! Thanks to @flashfictionfridayofficial and @drowsy-quill for the prompt!
[Image ID: white text reading âFFF268 Fractured Formsâ on a photographic background of cracked dark gray stone.
End ID]
pull down the mountains, drag your cities to the sea
word count: 564
Content Warnings: past war and destruction associated with a war, past unsuccessful deicide, child endangerment and food insecurity, one line implications of burning to death
â
It huddles small under cheaply woven layers, bundled at a fireâin a city, it suffers still!âbetween its divine sibling and their mortal attendant. Underfed and ill-treated to what a childgod deserves, her reincarnation is left with its very face uncovered to the mortals that surge through the wreckage of this world like bands of fish. They ought all be struck blind for looking upon a young god, and Myrtos would marshal the divinity shared to her and Aias in holy judgement, if only her fragile next life would not face the consequences.
Ungrateful fractured things, mortals. So sure of their rebellionâs righteousness in killing her, so pleased to emerge victorious in a war against gods, only to be left scrabbling and filthy in the decaying remains of a carefully maintained peace. The most self-satisfied portions of her soul exalt, a thread of joy racing through her as the humans enjoy the taste of ash. However, none accuse mortals of great intelligence or else they would have no need for gods. She, once the Heavenly Myrtos-emrys fab Inanna who commanded armies and dragonâs fire, bore a blame at her death greater than any for the 16 worldsâ decline.
She was indulgent in life, content to suffer endless shallow cuts by her honored family and mortals alike in the name of humanityâs continuation among the stars. These are the ruins over which she, too, must weep.
Her humans left to suffer, her rebirth adrift amongst mortals, fragmented between itself and the echo of her. A world where she had the courage to kill her granddaughter rather than be distracted that the soul inside had once been her sisterâsâŚthat is one where her Aias would have no need to share a mind with her. One where it would be safe, comforted and full-bellied as all children ought to be.
Oh, she would burn worlds and heretics whole for what has been done to humanityâs children.
âGrandmother?â her successor asks, lowly as not to bring suspicion of its true nature. Rage burns in her anew that it should have to bow, to hold itself to quiet.
Still she appears to it, brushing a calming hand only it will feel through its inexpertly braided curls. âYes, sweetling?â
âThereâs something coming.â
Its companion and their mortal stiffen, alerted but barely more useful. Aias is young, certainly, its body too weak to sustain her possession for long, but the others have been left untrained or devoid of magic entirely.
Each of them so very young. Myrtos would rend her kinslaying grandchild with her own teeth for the world that fool has left.
To Aias, Myrtos hums, curling at its side as if she sits at the fire with them. âOpportunists or soldiers?â
ââŚI donât know, Iâm sorry.â
âNo matter, sweetling. Would you like to remember after?â
Aias buries itself further into its clothing, a memory of charred flesh at the edges of its mind before Myrtos can submerge the thought. ââŚno.â
Good. No child ought see the corpses she intends to leave.
She stretches into the body of Aias fab Morrigan, small and underfed, shedding the sigil-marked layers that repel their fire. The body overheats in time with acceptance of her, their sacred, shared heart a deafening rhythm in their ears, lungs harsh and overworked.
Yet when Myrtos steps forward in borrowed flesh, the world burns in her glory.
Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial 268th prompt.
Word count: 223
Audience: general
Original work.
Themes: unrequited love, doubts
Here, under the guard of the weeping mulberry, the minutes mattered.
The tick tick tick of the second hand as it counted down to the daunting moment.
He had seen the messages, though he shouldnât have. He knew how she felt and thought he knew how he felt.
But now that he was here, in this meticulously planned and curated moment at 110 East Gorham Street, he was unsure. He felt queasy. Sweat dripped from his brow, slithering down along his evening stubble. It piddle paddled along his neck and then dribbled down to the ground around him, a pool forming at his feet.
Engulfing him. Drowning him.
The serene draping branches seem to wrap around him. They grew close, confining. No longer branches, they were bars.
This was to be a moment of blissâa delightful delusion. While searching for happiness, he dug himself a trench and flooded it with indecision and anxiety.
He had to get out. Ripping through branches, shifting smatterings of rose petals, snuffing out candles. Hair now disheveled, eyes frantic. They darted from the glittering ring clutched in his hand to the furthest reaches of the Period Garden Park.
Then she arrived. Taking in the scene, all hope and enthusiasm evaporated from her eyes as she stumbled upon a moment meant to start an eternity, frozen in a fractured form.
