I'm nothing special, just another girl on Tumblr who likes to fangirl over fictional characters. I have bad days, I have good days, I have days where nothing but killing zombies matters.
Behold, the only half decent shot of my Hilda/Touko cosplay that I got. And I remain awkward as fuck. No clue who the Ns or the Hilbert/Touya are, but they were bloody awesome.
(SHIPPING TIME at the Pokemon photoshoot on Saturday. As one of the Ns said, we really needed a Ferris wheel)
Reblogged from rainseeker
OR, has something to do with an “INDIAN(Native American) BURIAL GROUND”, the ENTIRE North American, and South American, Continent are “Indian burial grounds”, your back yard is an Indian burial ground
thousands of generations are buried all across Turtle Island. better goddamn acknowledge it
Oh man. Working in the tourism industry people ask about “authentic Aboriginal experiences, art, etc. etc. ” and I always want to say you’re having one right now. You are driving your RV across stolen land and taking pictures of monuments made on the bodies of dead ancestors … But that’s not authentic enough.
Oh tourism. That just reminds me of my neechie going rafting in Jasper and the guide was trying to tell her about the ~~~authentic Cree squaw experience~~~. She told him to shut the fuck up and her man had to keep her from ripping the guide’s face off.
(Source: littleangrytiger)
Reblogged from neil-gaiman
He saw her across a crowded shelf.
Her deckle-edge was seductively deep, her endpapers velvety. She was a first edition, probably autographed. Any man would want to write his name in a book like her.
She noticed him perusing her pages, and blushed. He had a hard spine, and a crisp dust jacket. His eyes were capitalized, and in an obscure font designed in Amsterdam in 1768. She caught herself glancing at his flyleaf, and looked away, mortified.
They were in the YA section, and she was acting like a common galley.
“Can I have your ISBN?” he whispered. He could nearly see her addendum.
“Yes,” she cooed, helpless. “Yes.”
——
A couple of years ago, for the 110th Anniversary of the terrific indie University Bookstore in Seattle, 110 writers wrote pieces of 110 words. This was mine, a miniature romance novel, the only thing in that genre I’ve written. (So far.) Books are sexy. I became a writer in order to get closer to them.
Reblogged from rawrimamidget
Tyler posted his AN video~
Its pretty fantastic and our little godtier group is in it for a bit!
Reblogged from octopus-ahoy
D’awwwwww!
Aww, look at them practicing to kill each other when they grow up. <3<3
