stephrc79:

kortniisakuriboh:

I can almost guarantee that Google thinks I’m a psychopath. My last three searches were “Is it possible to slit your own throat?” “Does ripping skin make a sound?” and “How long would it take for someone to bleed out through their forearm?”.

But I’m not insane, I promise.

I’m a writer.

The last sentence negates the previous one.

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(via aphaelyon)

Source: kortniisakuriboh

comealongstormaggedon: lesreichenbachfinn: When people turn to fictional characters, it’s often because they want an escape. The stories of these people shelter us from the storm of our daily lives; they save us, if only for a little while. But when we really give in, become invested, let ourselves be vulnerable, something changes. We begin to feel that we know them. It’s no longer just an escape, but part of us, something that makes us who we are. These characters teach us that incredible adversity can be overcome. That people can love each other forever. That life can be an adventure. That magic can be real. And even if these miracles have never happened to us, we begin to go through life believing that, someday, they could.  If anybody ever tells me that storytelling isn’t important anymore, I’ll show them this post.  I’d like to research this somehow. This post means everything to me.
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comealongstormaggedon: lesreichenbachfinn: When people turn to fictional characters, it’s often because they want an escape. The stories of these people shelter us from the storm of our daily lives; they save us, if only for a little while. But when we really give in, become invested, let ourselves be vulnerable, something changes. We begin to feel that we know them. It’s no longer just an escape, but part of us, something that makes us who we are. These characters teach us that incredible adversity can be overcome. That people can love each other forever. That life can be an adventure. That magic can be real. And even if these miracles have never happened to us, we begin to go through life believing that, someday, they could.  If anybody ever tells me that storytelling isn’t important anymore, I’ll show them this post.  I’d like to research this somehow. This post means everything to me.
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comealongstormaggedon:

lesreichenbachfinn:

When people turn to fictional characters, it’s often because they want an escape. The stories of these people shelter us from the storm of our daily lives; they save us, if only for a little while. But when we really give in, become invested, let ourselves be vulnerable, something changes. We begin to feel that we know them. It’s no longer just an escape, but part of us, something that makes us who we are.

These characters teach us that incredible adversity can be overcome. That people can love each other forever. That life can be an adventure. That magic can be real. And even if these miracles have never happened to us, we begin to go through life believing that, someday, they could. 

If anybody ever tells me that storytelling isn’t important anymore, I’ll show them this post. 

I’d like to research this somehow. This post means everything to me.

(via indecisivenerdgirl)

Source: romangodfrey

Excerpt: Akitla’s Impression Of Dean

Akitla liked Dean. There was something intrinsically simple about him. No, she corrected herself, not simple. Simple was insulting. Simple was flat and monochromatic. Dean was certainly none of those things. But from her brief encounters with him, she’d gotten the distinct sense that Dean was willing to listen, and willing to accept. When Inusiq had first introduced him to her in the woods, she’d expected more of a reaction from him. Granted, he was already familiar with the way lycans looked in their anthropomorphic forms, so shock wasn’t likely to be an issue for him. But there was something in the way he’d looked at her and reached out to her that had touched her, and Akitla could see why Inusiq had been able to forge a relationship with him when they were children. He didn’t look at lycans as though they were any different from humans. In fact, that was exactly what had been so unusual about Akitla’s first meeting with Dean. He’d treated her with respect and a small measure of reserve, but no more than Akitla herself would have used with a stranger. Now, seated at a table with three, enormous, dirty, and threatening-looking lycans, Dean was making casual conversation and offering them coffee. Yes, Akitla thought to herself smiling, this was a man she could respect. A Bush Pilot with more tact and open-mindedness than a vast majority of her former colleagues back at the University in London, a half a world away.

Surely it is an odd way to spend your life - sitting alone in a room with a pen in your hand, hour after hour, day after day, year after year, struggling to put words on pieces of paper in order to give birth to what does not exist, except in your head. Why on earth would anyone want to do such a thing? The only answer I have ever been able to come up with is: because you have to, because you have no choice.
Paul Auster (via alfsaga)

(via north-sea-longing)

Source: alfsaga

I want to write a short story about Akitla but I’ve been writing academic stuff for the last few weeks, and I really can’t deal with staring at a blank word document right now. I also tried to art, but that failed miserably and I gave up like, two brushstrokes in. 

I’m actually in a creative mood but I don’t have an outlet that I feel like using and ugh.

Edit: I would 300% be up for RPing something with someone, but the only person that I ever RPed with stopped being a decent human being like, a few years ago, and now I have no one. 

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