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#found this in my files
liilostt · 1 year
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lockssteps · 4 months
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lifetanes · 26 days
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Billie Lourd as Montana Duke
AMERICAN HORROR STORY: 1984 (2019)
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snowmaze1969 · 1 year
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Baby Hornet in a nutshel
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i-t-guy-in-the-sky · 2 years
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Technology makes the world go round. The human race’s reliance on their computers and gadgets is all consuming and total. John had lost count of the number of rescue calls he had received for situations that were a direct result of their dependence on their phones and tablets, either from walking while looking at their phone or blindly following a GPS into a dangerous place.
People kept their entire lives in the palm of their hand, they spoke to the friends through their phones, they stored their memories there in the form of pictures, videos and documentation, they kept their worldly wealth at their fingertips, with access 24/7, they had every piece of knowledge they could ever wish for available at the touch of a button. Separation anxiety from their gadget was a very real thing, that same feeling of having left the stove on or the door unlocked, like something was missing.
He could understand that, his whole life revolved around the most advanced computers and technology in existence, none of it mainstream or in use by the general populace. He loved working out the kinks in a new system, loved crafting the perfect programme for his needs. Everything was intuitive to him, it was attuned to his touch, responded to his every command feeling like an extension of his own mind. His craft had always felt connected to him in some way, almost like it was a living, breathing, thinking entity and now, with the inclusion of EOS, it felt even more like it had a soul of its own.
This was his world, this was where he felt comfortable, in control, where he had the surety that he knew whatever the situation, whatever the issue, he could fix it. He was the voice in the sky, the one that answered the desperate calls made from the same technology and he made them a promise, his solemn vow, that he would send help, that they would be OK. And they would, because he was there, and so were his brothers, with their own technology, their highly advanced machines that existed purely to save.
He was the IT guy in the sky, the computer genius that could hack anything and anyone, that could decode machinery from an ancient civilization with his modern means, who could tap into a fix the onboard system of a plane without even having to think about it. Hell, he was the one that had accidentally created the world's most intelligent and self sufficient AI with old university game code. Which was why people found his love of books so strange.
Books were a world of their own, something tangible he could hold in his hand as opposed to something insubstantial that floated in midair, made up of nothing but lights and projections and computer chips. He liked the solid feel of them in his hands, liked the way the paper crinkled under his fingers as he turned each page. He liked the way the letters sat on the muted cream pages and the fact that he could read for hours without the glare of a screen.
Computers didn’t smell, they didn’t have that evocative scent blend of paper, ink and time that invoked images of bookshops and libraries, storage places of knowledge and old worlds that no longer existed, fantastical worlds that had been conjured up entirely from the mind of the author, weaving tales that could hold his interest more completely than any movie or computer game ever could. Books transported you into their pages, sucking you into a world that could be comforting, friendly, scary or just plain disturbing. They could contain love, horror, pain, sadness or hope all in one story.
Books never went wrong, they never let you down. They didn't run out of battery or break if you dropped them, they never picked up a virus or gave a strange access into your life. Books were safe, books were predictable, books were order in the chaos that the world often held.
Books were something that all the Tracy boys had a love and appreciation for, it had been drummed into them from a young age by their parents and grandparents. He remembered storytime on the couch, squashed in the middle of a pile of brothers, sharp limbs sticking into uncomfortable places but going unnoticed as their mother’s soft voice told them stories of magical creatures and selfless heroes, or their fathers deep baritone read out tales of far off countries, action and adventure, giving them a taste of how their lives would eventually become.
Whether he was on earth or in the sky he would always have one close to hand. In what little down time they had he’d most likely be found with a book in his hand. Alone on Five he’d relax in his bunk and read of exotic countries and far off worlds, in the lounge on the island he’d be camped out on a couch with a mug of coffee and a book, if the others were splashing around in the pool or sunbathing he’d be tucked under a sunshade with a book in his lap.
He loved nothing more than stretching out on his soft bed in his peaceful bedroom, feeling the press of gravity urging his sometimes aching body into the comforting embrace of mattress and blankets that formed his nest. He’d pick a book from one of their overly stuffed bookshelves, probably one that he’d read a million times before, lying with the window open to the night, to feel the ocean breeze blowing softly across any skin he’d left exposed. His hyperactive mind would finally calm, lulled by the rhythm of eyes moving across words that he knew by heart but could still capture his full attention. Often Selene would curl up beside him, either with a book of her own or just to sleep, her mere presence a soothing balm to his senses.
Books, and the stories they contained, were a solid presence that he’d never give up for all the technology in the world. Computers were never foolproof, they were never as safe as they claimed, he knew that from experience. You could take a book anywhere and it would always do exactly what you wanted it to, nothing more, nothing less. And in this world of unpredictable people, situations and unpleasantness, predictability was something that was worth its weight in gold.
Books and John Tracy might seem like complete opposites, something that really shouldn’t work but he’d found that in all honesty, they were a match made in heaven.
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catgirltitties · 1 year
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lr31o · 2 years
Video
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stargirl230 · 3 months
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thanks for the light
I was just trying to figure out how procreate works but then the op brainworms got to me and 35 hours later here we are! can you tell I miss home-cooked meals :')
(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)
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kcamberart · 2 months
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Cutiefly | Original
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miatsai · 7 months
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writing and craft and stuff
"Mia do you have any writing advice pet peeves"
why, yes i do. presented without too much comment:
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it's a scam because you need to use both things to tell a story effectively. if it's all show, your novel is going to be over 200k words and half of it will probably be a travelogue. if it's all tell, we'll have a hard time getting into the characters' thoughts and feelings. show, don't tell exists to help newer writers explore what's going in their characters' minds. it's not a hard and fast rule once you've learned how to characterize and give context. so please, do some telling. do some beautiful telling.
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critai · 9 months
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4321
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sentientsky · 5 months
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guess who’s been wading thru the archives again
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g0nefischin · 7 months
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Got this from one of those incorrect quote generator things
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pumpkingeorge · 1 year
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poruvoron · 3 months
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komorebi ('23)
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girlbossblackbeard · 7 months
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"I was just gonna say, I could put it to the crew and if you wanted to stay one more night on the ship, you know...extenuating circumstances and all that"
"yes 🥺"
"what's that?"
"-uh.. might be nice 🥺🥺"
"GREAT 😃😳"
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