mumblingsage - Tumblr blog

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spiders have got to figure out contracting I need to be able to call my local spiders union and be like "hey can you send a guy out for a few days the fruit flies are back" and then pay it in spider currency. I'll learn the conversion rates. I'll be generous with my rounding. please.

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being proactive w cultivating your fandom space is good but also weird because occasionally you'll see a post that's like, "we need to address [problem in fandom you have literally never heard of before]" or "I'm tired of fics that [characterization you have literally never encountered]" and you just end up nodding along and trusting that your mutuals have seen horrors you cannot fathom because you have a very extensive blacklist

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reblog if you’re a lesbian who supports bi girls, a bi girl who supports lesbians, or if you want all wlw to have a nice day

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James Salter, in an essay collected in Don’t Save Anything, writes about rock climbing in a way that also like a metaphor for a creative endeavor. Or maybe it’s that writing feels like rock climbing:

I was hand-jamming and fist-jamming; there was a period when it seemed I was clinging, legs beginning to tremble, for fully five minutes, unable to find any way of continuing until the smallest hold that I had first rejected, then come back to, and then rejected again, became the right one.

I had no fear. With him belaying, I would fall a few feet at most if, as it seemed would happen at any moment, a foot slipped and my fingers slid from whatever they held to. But I did have the anguish, the intense anguish of not knowing if I could make it. That, Robbins told me, never changes—it was still the same for him as it had been in his first climbing days. Sometimes he had remained in one spot for more than an hour trying to find some way to move, trying to solve the rock as if it were the door of a bank vault.

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thinking about the poll about canon vs non-canon ships that didn't define terms, and the current fandom focus on things "going canon," so i made up a scale.

this is NOT a question about whether canon matters to what you ship (or matters at all), just how to define the phrase "canon ship."

many ships start low on the scale and slow burn their way up, so vote for the point when you would have called them "canon." i agonized over the order (especially #4-6) for a day and a half, but i went with the order in which i think joe random with a nielsen ratings box and no tumblr account would notice/call something a romantic relationship.

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Jaskier's best poses

Season 2

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i've decided to just start identifying as eccentric

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Some frog wizard magic ✨

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we really devolved as a society when we stopped using fully painted pictures on romance novels and started using cheap photoshop instead 

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you know what i'm gonna get sappy for a second bear with me

there are a lot of posts and memes for writers about how hard writing is and how annoying it can be and how dispiriting it can feel when we don't make progress the way we'd like to. and those are true, and relatable, and funny! i've been there!

but maybe it doesn't get said enough in the other direction, so I'm gonna say it: I love writing. i love the process of putting phrases together and testing them for cadence and flow; i love knowing that there is a word for exactly the thing I want to convey, even if I just can't think of it right now, and going onto a thesaurus and being like there she is, that's the one!

but more than anything, I love the ritual of constantly asking myself "okay, and then what happens?" and feeling the same sense of delighted surprise every single time when somehow, a part of me I wasn't consciously aware of knows the answer. that experience, where my brain provides me solutions I didn't know it was working on, feels like a miracle every time. and getting into a productivity groove where I keep knowing the answers is one of the best feelings on the planet.

and sure, sometimes I don't know the answer, and it's hard and unsatisfying and see above about how easy it is to joke about how writing's the pits, but... that just makes it even more special when I'm firing on all cylinders, you know?

anyway, yeah. w r i t i n g.

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As a lesbian, I find it difficult to understand attraction to men. That being said, when I see some bara-style dilfs with big soft bellies, I can't help but feel like a warrior watching a display of martial skill from a respectable rival school. I lock eyes with the master leading his students in their daily drills and give him a single nod of undying respect, and he returns the gesture. We both understand that the difference between Dilf and Milf is a single letter.

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Beauty is Beauty

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im noticing that for a lot of americans “free palestine” has been an ideological motto and symbol rather than them actually believing in their heart that freedom is attainable and necessary

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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

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We talk a lot about Ea-Nasir, the man himself, but spare a moment to consider how fucking vindicated his customers would feel to know their complaints are known and spoken of thousands of years later.

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Had a dream last night that would be embarrassing and confusing to recount in full (my current celebrity crush was in there, somehow) but for once my dreams are offering a psychological insight. Namely there's a recurring dream narrative where I mis-remember my personal history so that I got together with Theriac while cheating on the kinda pretty but terribly dull guy I was dating before him, and said dull guy is proportionately upset with me over this.

I know I was raised Catholic but...wow. The logic at work here. It's not "To be happy, you must also suffer" -- I got both the happiness & suffering with Theriac's actual life and death -- it's "To be happy, you must have sinned somehow"!

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The best thing about Gettysburg, or at least the thing I miss most now that nobody pays me to go to Gettysburg anymore, is that the Male Loneliness Epidemic simply does not exist there. It is a place where middle aged men go with their friends, or to make new friends. I can see a gaggle of millennial men and know instantly that these guys love their pals almost as much as they love multiracial democracy and the traditionally feminine hobby of historical costuming. Men are out in the fresh air. They are touching so much grass. I once overheard a conversation between two guys buying an antique rifle that was as full of emotional connection as anything I’ve ever heard two men of that age group say.