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We looked inside some of the posts by ithasazipper-blog and here's what we found interesting.
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Notes Per Post
2K
Likes Per Post
986
Reblog Per Post
1K
Reply Per Post
2
Time Between Posts
7 days
Number of Posts By Type
Audio
1
Text
3
Photo
6
Note
6
Quote
1
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
Tumblr was acquired by Yahoo for $1.1B in 2013.
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//YOYOYOOYYOOYOYOY
//This blog has a Dyson sideblog here
//I'm moving it over from another blog
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"Does it really have a zipper?"
"It did before I was torch cut out of my pants."
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He couldn't say no to coffee. Really couldn't say no to Alan either. Even though he tried.
Sam stood outside for a moment longer. Almost afraid to enter that house that held real family memories and love. As if Sam wasn't allowed to have that. Even if the Bradleys kept telling him that we was family. It didn't feel the same.
"I could see your computer screen all the way from Encom." He replied, and trudged back up to the front door. "I don't think it ever shuts off."
It's late, and he knows that. Months late. Years even. The door is right there. A knock, or a ring of the doorbell would get the father like figure towards the door. The door that has a Christmas wreath hung on it. The whole house was decked out in holiday cheer. Sam sighed and turned back to his motorcycle, now parked on the street. He couldn't do it.
Alan was just about ready to shut off the computer. He stood, stretched and grabbed up the cold tea. It was then that he caught site of the motorcycle outside the window. For an odd moment he though the silhouette was Flynn. It startled him- almost making him drop his tea.
"No…," he muttered to himself, as if to snap himself out of a dream.
“Sam.” He half-charged to the door.
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"You realize you're out past curfew, program?" She stepped away from the wall she'd been leaning on, walking towards the unfamiliar program.
"Curfew?" Sam closes the interface that hovered above his hand. Numbers and data that showed him the goings on in the system. "Right, curfew. Are you going to arrest me now?" He smiled one of those patented shit-eating Flynn smiles that he had inherited. "I'd like to see that."
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He cringes.
Not the dad voice. Worse than Jewish mother guilt. Worse than the teacher yelling at you to pay attention. Worse than when Marvin whines.
"Alan! Man, what are you doing here?" Samuel feigns surprise, taking off the helmet and tucking it under his arm. "I was just, you know, driving around. Thought I'd stop by..."
It's not going to work, Alan can see right through your bullshit. "Say hi or something." A hand combs through that mess of blonde hair, a dopey smile on his face. "But your lights were out..."
It's late, and he knows that. Months late. Years even. The door is right there. A knock, or a ring of the doorbell would get the father like figure towards the door. The door that has a Christmas wreath hung on it. The whole house was decked out in holiday cheer. Sam sighed and turned back to his motorcycle, now parked on the street. He couldn't do it.
Alan was just about ready to shut off the computer. He stood, stretched and grabbed up the cold tea. It was then that he caught site of the motorcycle outside the window. For an odd moment he though the silhouette was Flynn. It startled him- almost making him drop his tea.
"No…," he muttered to himself, as if to snap himself out of a dream.
“Sam.” He half-charged to the door.
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The young man was just about to put his helmet on, when he heard the front door open. The wreath jingling happily.
"Shit." He cursed to himself, still putting the helmet on anyways.
Just another motorist. Nothing to see here folks.
It's late, and he knows that. Months late. Years even. The door is right there. A knock, or a ring of the doorbell would get the father like figure towards the door. The door that has a Christmas wreath hung on it. The whole house was decked out in holiday cheer. Sam sighed and turned back to his motorcycle, now parked on the street. He couldn't do it.
Alan was just about ready to shut off the computer. He stood, stretched and grabbed up the cold tea. It was then that he caught site of the motorcycle outside the window. For an odd moment he though the silhouette was Flynn. It startled him- almost making him drop his tea.
"No…," he muttered to himself, as if to snap himself out of a dream.
“Sam.” He half-charged to the door.
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from lifesshortpop: There is an envelope on your desk. Familiar handwriting, even if you haven't seen it in years. Note reads: "Sam: I know we're not speaking to each other since...well, since I took the Encom job. But this is important, and probably not something that should be discussed on a cell phone. Can you meet me at Jack's diner around 11pm? I'm cool with paying. -Jet"
lifesshortpop
Send me an ask will you?
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Flynn Lives! and Sam is hot!
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But we’re not here to re-live the past. Let’s see about your future, shall we?”
Zeus, Tron: Legacy (2010)
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I can see the world like c o d e behind my eyelids. What can you do? R a c e?
⚜ Independent Edward Dillinger JR ⚜ Over 10 years RP experience / 3 years on Tumblr ⚜ Uses Icons ⚜ Script, Semi-Para, Multi-Para RPer ⚜ Ships based on chemistry ⚜ Multi-verse / Multi-ship ⚜ Skype, Kik, Cellphone available to mutuals.
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