‘… capital is not overdeveloped nature, but underdeveloped schizophrenia, which is why nature is contrasted to industrial organisation, and not to the escalation of cybertechnics…schizophrenia is nature as cyberpositive mutation, at war with the security complex of organic judgment…’
there is Literally Nowhere, since i am Awful At Posting Art, but you’re nice so??? here have a picture of my oc
i drew him today his (really not real) name is Jet he’s a fallout oc, he’s like.. gay mulder in post-apocalyptic boston. overdeveloped story-wise for an oc that’s literally One Game and not a player-character so yeah. there goes.
Title: From First Principles Characters/Pairings: Shiro/Keith/Lance Summary: There are rules for situations like this, but maybe they’re not the right rules. Notes: Get-together fic, nothing heavier than some kissing and Shiro’s enormous, overdeveloped sense of responsibility. Though those are pretty danged heavy. 5055 words.
If Shiro heads into the training deck, he’s volunteering himself to referee yet another round of Keith and Lance’s eternal argument. It’s the kind of thing that could wear on the patience of a saint, which he is not. The lab sounds like a delightfully peaceful alternative, and there’s no saying what sort of technological marvel Pidge and Hunk have up their sleeves now.
Then he hears what sounds a lot like gunfire from the training deck and dismisses the thought, tempting though it is.
Hey Kids did u know that the reason i always use a heavy mechanical keyboard is that my flexor tendons are wicked overdeveloped due to too much rock climbing as a kid and it takes conscious effort not to slap the keys super hard
The unmistakable form of an elegant man crossing the lobby caught the attention of the guests. He contrasted with the plebeians of the city. The first thing one noticed was his height, he was way taller than the average man. His upper body is the strongest by far, though his legs are by no means weak. He did not have the overdeveloped physique of a bodybuilder. His posture contained hints of his well-to-do upbringing. Even his walk has tints of the well-brought-up son to it. The self-assurance in his stance and in his stride was backed up by the way he talks and handles himself.
“One room” He said as he reached the counter. Now, it was possible to see him from closer. The man was remarkably attractive. It was more than obvious royal blood ran though his veins. His facial features were harmonious and pleasing. The deep blue of his eyes and his golden hair gave him an ethereal look. Yet, Eric Northman was far from being an angel. He was a deceiver who loved giving his preys a false sense of security before striking.