24, genderfluid, pansexual and polyamorous. Im a big fan of all things fantasy and scifi, im an animal person. this is my "main" blog but it's mostly for writing. follow galactic-queen-of-bullshit for memes.
I want to tell yall that, to the best of my ability, i wont be reblogging anything thats not my writing or writing related on this blog anymore. This is a writing blog, i need to treat it as such.
I made another one, @galactic-queen-of-bullshit, for memes, poltlitical, queer, BLM and ACAB and whatever else posts i have to reblog. Please follow that one if youre not here for my writing.
I also have two other blogs, @galactic-mystics-poetry and @galacticmysticsmakesstuff for my poetry and hobbies/crafts respectively. I havent been very good about sharing work there, but i did just get a new camera so that will hopefully be changing!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
you have permission to pick that 2 year old "abandoned" project back up. it's not mad at you for setting it aside. and maybe time and distance have helped ease or erase the things that made you put it down in the first place.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
it’s been a bit but comms are open again. tldr my life sucks and gotta side hustle to live etc. pay what you can i know we’re all struggling rn. examples of recent art:
sketchy art such as above is easier for me to bust out and kinda my favorite and it’s pay whatever. you could pay me 2 bucks and you’ll get a doodle.
if you prefer some of my more detailed drawings just know my min is 20 bucks. such as:
i also do character pages like these and that’ll be more of an involved process where you tell me details and stuff but i’d do these for like 50-100 bucks:
nd contact me here on tumblr or on discord as @/vacantgodling :) payment is through paypal etc
tapping the commissions sign again bc hello i have some bills due (around 120 bucks) and i don’t start my part time job until tuesday (so even longer until i get paid from it)
if you don’t want to commission and would rather donate that’s fine ig but here is wonderwall (paypal)
I fear a lot of people learned to take good care of library books as children and instead of internalizing "leave shared community items as you found them as much as possible, because other people will use them too" they internalized "printing and binding a book imbues it with sacred energy and if you dog-ear a mass-market paperback you're desecrating the entire concept of written language"
Ever since you awoke in a cell in the cult’s compound you’ve been able to hear the apologetic whispers of their god. Apparently while they are fanatically loyal they aren’t very good at actually listening to their god.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
@sketiana // cells undergoing mitosis // neutron stars colliding // 'saturn', sleeping at last // voyager golden records // diagram of an atom // diagram of the solar system // 'a toast to the alchemists', laura giplin // neural stem cells // ciliated ventral epithelium // 'constellations', the oh hellos // jwst deep field // 'singularity', marie howe // heart of the phantom galaxy // 'zephyrus', the oh hellos // apoferritin // aerial view of a forest // a graph me and my project co-chair made to model angle over time of our payload // molybdenum and sulfur atoms // unknown // pillars of creation
you may be thinking that some of the reactions to the tumblr update are unfounded or panicky. but i meant what i said: this will fucking destroy any artist on this site.
for your reference, i tracked down one of my original posts; which had a notes section that looked like this:
and here is what it looks like now:
holy shit. by my math, that is not even two percent of the amount of aggregate notes my writing actually has. i am not able to see any of the literal hundreds of replies, comments, or tags.
maybe this is a bit presumptuous but i consider myself to be fairly popular on this site. i still remember the first time a large blog "picked up" my work - how quickly all of a sudden i was getting seen. notes on my poetry jumped from like 10 to 300 to 3k. overnight. that was the magic of tumblr, and the incredible writing community i found here.
but now if i answer any of my fellow writers, if i say please go check this out or even if i add additional context to my own work - the artist is removed completely from their own content.
do you want to reply to an "ask game"? do you want to reply to a story prompt? do you want to just make a funny joke with your friends? well, that sucks - you might be depriving them of literally 98% of their notes.
it isn't about clout chasing. it is about giving creators control over their own materials. even a silly post deserves to be connected directly with the person that thought it up.
the tumblr feedback form is currently crashed for me, but when it's up, everyone please go (politely! calmly! like you're walking in a burning building!) tell them what you think. in the meantime: @staff @changes like... i am begging you. literally just set up a suggestion box for ideas on how to monetize tumblr, surely one of us can help you.
Im going back through tags on this post for fun, since it exploded after my addition, and I just gotta say. I would have loved if this post went further, even if it just extended to people following one of my writing blogs for more poetry like this. I write poetry like it's my only life line and neither of my writing blogs ever got the attention this shitpost did
The imperial army attacks your village, on a dark moonless night, the time when you, the strongest Solar Mage, would be powerless. However, you are a Star Mage actually.
It is a clever strategy to move at night when your soldiers have quiet feet and you have the foresight to stain their armor black with ash. However, the Emperor has a noted distaste for cleverness that comes from outside his own head and he insists on leading the imperial army himself that night. As a result, the only cleverness to be found comes in the form of one hundred men managing to find the one path through the woods to their remote village that allows them to march two by two rather than single file.
An emergency meeting is called close to 2am, summoning the adults and elders to the community hall. Unlike the soldiers, they do not shine under the full moon and their thin, leather shoes make no sounds as they sneak from home to meeting.
The windows are shuttered and only a small magelight in the chief’s hand lights the two dozen townsfolk. It casts a blue glow across anxious and fearful faces. The light hits right under the chief’s chin and brings to mind the face of a grim reaper as it throws curling shadows under his eyes.
“The only option is to evacuate,” the chief says. Behind him stands his own mother, the chief before him. She nods along with his words. “We know the mountains better than them. We can take the North passage.”
“The North passage is already slick with ice,” a villager says. They speak in the same hushed whisper as the chief. “The children and the elderly won’t make it.”
“We can hide them in caves along the way,” a man says. He’s clutching his hatchet as if its his lifeline. He looks anxiously in the direction of the woods as if he can see the army drawing closer. “Come back for them when it’s safe.”
“Coward,” someone hisses.
The man stiffens. “None of us here can fight ten men, much less a hundred! To survive we need to—”
The crowd shushes him as he raises his voice.
“Why our village?” someone blurts out. Their hands are wringing. “Why us? We’re barely a village at all.”
The floodgates of anxiety open.
“The Emperor is mad.”
“They know about the mines!”
“I think it’s because of a prophecy, that’s what I heard about the last one—”
“If they trample my fields, we won’t have enough for winter—”
“Ach! Winter. Let’s focus on now--
The chief holds his hand up for silence. Reluctantly the room fills with it until the only sound is the distant whinny of a horse.
“They’re very bad at night assaults,” the mage observes. She’s leaning against the wall, her nightgown covered by her latest crochet project. The blanket is nearly finished, but she’s a bit embarrassed that the entire town is seeing her loose ends. She frowns back at the glares she receives. “What? They brought a horse. And the path they’re on has all those low hanging branches so they probably aren’t even riding the—"
The chief pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mage. Please.”
The mage raises her hands as if to say mea culpa and falls silent.
“We will evacuate,” the chief repeats. “It doesn’t matter why the Emperor is here. Our only focus tonight is survival. The army draws close. We must leave before they breach the first gate. Gather only what you can carry.”
There’s a moment when the villagers seem like they’re going to follow his instructions. They like the chief – he works alongside them in the field, shares his kills on hunts, and always mediates fairly. However, he isn’t his mother. He’s young.
There’s a beat of silence. Then—
“Chief, the North passage isn’t safe—”
“We need to get the donkeys from pasture—”
“—ridiculous, they’ll be louder than the horses—”
“Or,” the mage says loudly, no longer whispering, “I can finally do my job.”
They stare. The mage stares back.
“It’s night time,” the woman closest to her says.
“Yes,” the mage says.
“Magic doesn’t work at night,” another villager says.
“Solar magic doesn’t work at night,” the mage says in the town of someone who has explained something many times before. “I’m not a solar mage, I’m a star mage.”
“Wait,” the man who suggested the caves says, “you weren’t joking about that?”
She props her fists on her hips. “Do I seem like the joking type to you?”
“We just thought you weren’t that funny.”
“Hey—”
“You can’t call the sun,” the chief says. He ticks off each of her faults on his fingers one by one. “You can’t warm the earth. You can’t bless our crops.”
“You’re just listing solar magic,” the mage says. She huffs and heads for the door. “I don’t have time to re-explain what I can do. You all should start evacuating. I’ll do what I can. If I win, I get to say I told you so. If I lose…” She pauses in the doorway to adjust her blanket. “Well. Maybe the Mage Tower will finally send you the solar mage you all hoped you’d get.”
The village shifts guiltily. Tellingly, no one denies her words.
“You are part of the village,” the chief offers. He clears his throat. “This has become your home.” Even if you’re not useful, goes unsaid.
“Which is why I’m going to do my job,” she says. She strides out. Because she’s feeling a little mean, she takes her blue magelight with her, calling it from the chief’s hand to her own with a thought. “You can use torches. They’re close enough now they must know we can hear them.”
The townsfolk flutter behind her. They’ll evacuate quickly. They have no faith in her abilities. Sure, she graduated top of her class, but why would they care about that? They’ve always just seen what she can’t do.
You are part of the village.
Unfortunately for her pride, she is. The moment the Archmage assigned her so far away, away from the light pollution in the capital, it became her village. And her village may think her incapable, but she knows the truth.
And soon so will the Imperial Army.
The stars hum above her. The moon is a warm presence against her shoulders. She can feel the moonlight sliding down her back, pooling and filling the gaps in her aura. She invites it in, breathes in the night, cajoles the stars to spark at her fingertips. She ran out of her home without shoes and she digs her toes into the chilled earth. Her magic cycles from above to below and then above again, growing more powerful with each repetition.
The army clanks and groans and shuffles. She can’t see them, but knows the path the chief mentioned. Even if she didn’t know it, she’d be able to guess. She pulls starlight under her feet and lets it propel her a little faster. Her magelight winks out, unneeded as her magic sharpens her vision and senses. The chief said they needed to evacuate before they breached the first gate. She intends to get to them sooner than that.
The magic she intends to use will definitely trample the fields if deployed too close.
She makes it to the treeline just as the first man emerges. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, she can tell. He stares right at her, hand on the hilt of his sword. A red cape falls across his shoulders just as the moon falls across hers.
He says, “I am—”
“Leave,” she interrupts. She doesn’t want to hear who he is. Some general or other who has his orders. She has hers. “This will be your only warning.”
“How dare you interrupt the Emperor?!” a soldier snarls. He does draw his sword. “You’ll pay for this slight!”
“You’d be killing an unarmed mage,” the Emperor says. He examines her, eyes lingering on the choker that marks her for what she is. “You have no power without the sun. Pledge your loyalty to me and we will let you live, mage.”
Well. She did warn them.
The first star hits the rearguard. The man screams as the silver orb strikes with the weight of a cannonball, tearing and searing his shoulder through the armor. His horse cries and breaks loose, running into the forest. She’ll need to let the villagers know to send a search party for it after.
The Emperor is frozen at the sight. He can’t see the injured man in the dark – his vision isn’t as good as hers – but he saw the star. He saw the magic. “Star mage,” he breathes.
“At least someone knows,” she says.
The second star hits. Then the third. The fourth. Men scream. People die. At some point, the Emperor lunges at her. Her cloak of moonlight burns him and the next star that falls puts him out of his misery while he’s screaming on the ground.
She does her job.
 When it’s over, she surveys the battlefield. Not a single soldier made it past her. Her magic curls in satisfaction. Her village is safe. However, the fields aren’t. This mess will spoil them. She checks her reserves and finds just enough left.
Ice and frost creep out from under her feet. It spins in fractals across the dirt path, running up the blades of grass and spiraling up the trunks of the trees it touches. The ice slips over the bodies like a pall. The moonlight gleams.
She raises her arms to the sky, her blanket fluttering in an ephemeral breeze. The word she speaks isn’t in a language she’s ever been taught. It’s one she’s known since she first entered the Mage Tower at seven years old, excited and giddy with the chance to play with magic.
Return.
The bodies disintegrate. Flurries of snow spin up towards the sky. Some of it is red. Most of it is white. When the snow clears, the path is clean. There are craters from her barrage, but the fields are untouched. She is alone in the night and as much as she wants to revel in such a beautiful evening, she can’t. If she doesn’t go back now, she’ll have to track the villagers across the North passage to coax them back home.
With a sigh, she goes back. At least she gets to say I told you so.
----
Thanks for reading! It's been a hot minute, but excited to share a flurry of stories with y'all! If you'd like to read them a week ahead of everyone else, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)
Next week's story is already up!
Summary: You are a therapist who believes even villains deserve better mental health. This, of course, means all your clients are villains. (recurring therapist-to-villains here (X))
With a bonus extra two-part story as well!
Summary: Your fiance is a villain. Your family is composed of superheroes. You only knew about one of these facts before sitting down to Thanksgiving.
It's a two-parter about finding new family when the one you have no longer fits...and there's superheroes too.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“As the American-born daughter of two Mexican immigrants, I illustrate their plight and the plight of many in my community with my art. I want to expose the heart-breaking pain of what a Mexican immigrant’s family goes through. I focus on bringing my family’s world into the light and out of the shadows. My paintings are best described as visual comments on the hidden daily reality of the Mexican-American experience. These portraits and still lifes reveal my family in their own authentic environment and expose how I live in two worlds. My paintings layer the American culture over the Mexican world. I feel society needs to be aware of the humanity on the other side of the door. The two most important people in my life, my parents, are also the two who motivated me to develop such a strong concept. When my parents pose for these paintings, their faces are reduced to extremely raw and somehow vulnerable expressions. Sadly, they strive to be invisible every day. They don’t have to pretend to illustrate the invisible. They have dealt with constant rejection, suspicion and fear so long, that it seems now that it comes naturally to them. I strive to capture how their expressions deliver that sense of tiredness, resignation, and quiet acceptance. It seems relevant to show that underneath all the politicization and underserved labeling this community receives, these are regular people just like all of us. In the long tradition of immigrants that come to the United States, they have made homes here and they are just trying to live a simple life with a bit of security and hopefulness for their children.” — Criselda Vasquez
đź’›Yellow: How does your character show others that they care about them?
Hi hello!!
I think Im gonna do this for a mix of characters, starting with
EXODUS DOWN
Aliee is someone who doesnt do well with downtime and sitting still, so she has a tendency to pick up taking care of everyone elses stuff.
Laundry, shopping, cleaning, basically anything except for actual cooking (she's not a very good cook), she'll do, and a lot of time it's not even something she tells you she's doing, she just picks up the work and then never sets it down.
Avren, her twin brother, has a tendency to "push". Sometimes it just comes off as overbearing, but it comes from a place of wanting to see the people he loves to succeed. He'll push for people to do things they may not want to do, may not feel brave enough to persue. Little and big things alike.
A DANCE OF STORMS
Rosemary is a maker. She's an accomplished baker, she's good at knitting and sewing. She would pick up on mending people's clothes, or bringing a truly impressive amount of breads and treats to someone. But the way she shows her love most tends to be in, oddly enough, arguing! She argues with the people she loves as well as for them. This is mostly rooted in very deep passion, but also in her being just outright unable to accept injustices and settling in the people she cares for. If someone is worth loving, theyre worth fighting for.
Savara typically outright persues the people who catch her attention, but she also tends to pay a lot of attention to her objects of affection, including making it point to notice what they do and dont like, without ever saying anything.
