#typewriter keyboard

[triflingthing]

Editing 👀

[columboscreens]

[aropride]

typing speed test

reblogging with a poll for people on mobile as well

[beepboopappreciation]

My mechanical keyboard

I'm not dead!!! Just busy. I have a new typewriter now, his name is Terry and I wrote him a poem :]

Poetry transcript under the cut!

My Mechanical Keyboard

Goodbye Hello

I do not know your story, but I am glad to have found you. My mechanical keyboard.

Antique but still breathing, past your prime but forever dedicated to your purpose.

Outdated Outmoded Obsolete

These words, spoken by others, cling to you just as the dust to your exterior and the grime between your keys; but I do not care, and you do not seem to notice.

My mechanical keyboard.

There’s nothing quite like the sound you make when a letter of yours takes, the tip of my finger pressing down, gently. One stroke. Two stroke. Three stroke. A chime rings out as I start the next line. I keep going.

so . . . . . delicate. so . . . . deliberate. My mechanical keyboard.

You were made for this; To put my thoughts into analog. I write the script, but you give it life.

Only after I put the final mark on the page do I truly understand what it means to work with something as special as you;

My mechanical keyboard.

[webdiggerxxx]

ೃ༄ੈ✩‧₊˚

[herflowersneededwatered]

The laptop keyboard is starting to

envy the typewriter’s buttons being pushed by her.

It misses his writer, but classic never dies.

[elkkiel]

[drkiezalel]

I love Ilkka's peculiar way of typing on the typewriter with his index fingers ~

[another-chaotic-bisexual-vampire]

just read that one of the first reviews of Bela Lugosi in the Broadway premiere of "Dracula" had this exact quote from The New Yorker's drama critic:

Ye who have fits, prepare to throw them now.

and I'm fully obsessed with this quote and so upset we haven't been using it to discuss Dracula Daily / Re: Dracula this whole time

[clumsiestgiantess]

At last! A new Erica pov! I’ve been rather busy with life stuff since it’s the holiday season and whatnot, but I’ve seen interest in the Erica pov I wrote all the way back in October, so here it is!

I recommend reading the original Ruler of Everything AU before reading this one. While this short does happen before the events of the original, it’s written with the intent that you know about the world this AU takes place in.

(Warning: There’s a bit of gore but nothing too detailed)

[Erica pov of the Ruler of Everything AU]

Once I became a complete puppet for my unknown puppet master, I didn’t think things could possibly get worse, but boy was I wrong.

For her — some sort of gigantic all-powerful person — one puppet wasn’t good enough.  She’s got the whole city and everyone in and around it under some sort of mind manipulation.  She gives them whatever they want, but they forget about everything horrible she’s done.  They forget about every time she’s crushed cars or leveled homes — everything.  And I feel like I’m going insane, because I’m the only one who remembers.

For whatever reason, probably because I’m the first she’s controlled, my captor likes keeping me around.  She lets me remember everything, but she keeps telling me it doesn’t matter if I do, because nothing here is ‘real’.  I’m not sure what she means by that, but it’s.. upsetting.

Today, I’m at her desk.  I’m a little living figurine with a little corner of her desk set up with a beanbag chair and mini fridge just for me.  Her hand reached for me absentmindedly as she looked over a paper she’d slid through the growth machine.  What I wouldn’t give to slip into one of those myself — give my captor the wake-up-call she deserves.  However, the machine is built like a copier; the only thing that can fit in it is paper.  

I complained lamely as her gigantic fingers coiled around my torso.  There was no use trying to actually get my discomfort across to her.  Alexis doesn’t believe I’m real.  She won’t care how much I yell, though I can’t help but struggle.  I’m brought away from the safety of the desktop and pressed into her palm.  It’s slightly rough, and I wedge my shoulder against it.  I gasp — accidentally shifting myself out of a safe grip.  Grasping desperately at her skin, I begin slipping down her hand.

Seconds away from screaming for help, Alexis’ fingers quickly slide up behind me.  They tuck behind my back and beneath my arms, hauling me up into her hand again.  “I’ve got you,” she mumbles without taking her eyes off the paper.  My heart slams wildly around my ribcage in terror.  You’re fine, you’re ok, it’s fine, everything’s fine.  Despite her being.. her, Alexis had never once dropped me further than a few feet — and that was only because I’d writhed in her grip and struggled my way out.  She had quick reflexes for someone so unnaturally gigantic.  Even if they often lead to bruises, it was still infinitely better than letting me fall.

My throat choked shut as her fingers laced against me.  They slid across my arms, her thumb atop my chest.  A giant digit nestled between my legs to offer me a place to sit, causing me to squirm uncomfortably.  A rumbling chuckle causes the actual air around me to vibrate like a clap of thunder — stilling me instantly.  

“It can’t be that bad,” she sighed, bringing me in front of herself with a little smile.  I returned it nervously.  Alexis brushed her thumb gently over the top of my head, stroking my frazzled hair.  I had to bite my tongue to keep from snapping at her to stop petting me.  “You must know by now that I’m not going to hurt you.  I’ve been taking good care of you for so long, yet you still somehow don’t trust me.”  

Alexis giggled, squeezing and rubbing my limbs through her threaded fingers.  I swallowed my scream of helpless fear down to only a brief yelp.  She flinched at the sound, but continued massaging me around her hand like I was some kind of fidget toy.  I quickly shoved away the thought before I could think on it long enough to realize that I am a toy to her — or something of the sort, something that isn’t considered truly living in her eyes.

Fuck, it’s so awful.  My stomach churned nastily, reminding me exactly why I have to squash those thoughts before they develop any further.  All things considered, I was by no means in danger.  Alexis does take care of me — so much so I lose my mind over it.  Not having a shred of decision-making agency with what happens to me, where I go, or what I get to have is something I’d only wish on my worst enemies.  I’m not in physical danger, but mentally I’m on the verge of collapse.

I let Alexis do with me as she pleased — toying with me in her hand, threading me over and through her fingers, pinching my limbs to move them at her leisure.  Eventually Alexis truly focused on her work, and became all the more dangerous.  Unaware of what she was doing, the pads of her fingers suddenly dug into me; she squeezed inward, pinching little bits of my skin away from my body.  Almost instantly I felt bruises blooming across everywhere she touched.

It hurt so awfully my breath caught and crushed in my throat.  Her thumb pressed in on my stomach and chest, digging beneath my shirt and squeezing against my body.  I couldn’t even gasp a breath of air as my lungs crushed flat, followed by faint crackling noises that were likely my ribs detaching from me.  She rubbed her finger up and down my body as I tried desperately to breathe.  Her rough movements squishing and dragging my innards up and down with her stroking.

Finally managing to cry out in pain, I shoved uselessly at her.  “St- Stop!  You’re killing me!  PLEASE!”  Thankfully, Alexis quickly realized what she’d done and released me onto her desk.  “Oh!  I forgot I still had you in my hand!  It’s ok, I’ll put you back down,” she calmly told me as I fell to my knees.  I crumpled in on myself in agony, clutching my raw skin as hard as I dared.  Every breath hurt and came out as a wheeze.  “Why.. p-please…  Just make it stop!” I gasped out, the pain of it all making my eyes water.  A second later, I keeled over and vomited — just blood.

“Wait.. why are you-?”  Alexis gasped, “What did you do with it?”  The rumbling slide of wood on wood made the desktop shake as Alexis searched it for something.  “Why would you take it off?” she muttered, eyes rapidly scanning the desk.  “Where is-  Aha!”  Tearfully, I blinked up at her.  I could barely see through the black spots dancing in my vision.  Pinched between her fingers was a little bracelet.  Oh thank fuck.  Gently, Alexis held out a few fingers and I shakily placed my hand on them — coughing up blood because I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

The moment it slipped onto me, my whole body went numb until I felt like I wasn’t physically attached to anything at all, then every sensation came rushing back to me at once, this time perfectly fine and unhurt.

I lay there panting for a moment; my brain was still convinced I was deathly injured.  “Erica.”  Her stern voice commanded me upright.  “I gave this to you for a reason.  Remember when you asked me for it?”  I glared my strongest most hateful glare at her.  “I asked for you to stop using me like a toy!  I asked you not to hurt me!”  “So I gave you that bracelet!  You can’t be injured when you wear it!”  I shot to my feet, storming as close to her as I dared.  “I don’t want your dumbass magic shit!  I WANT YOU TO TREAT ME WITH AN OUNCE OF FUCKING RESPECT!  IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

Alexis stared at me, shook.  “I don’t give a damn if you think I’m ‘real’ or not, but you can clearly see I’m a person, right?  Treat me like one!”  She swallowed weakly, “but you.. are a toy.  I- I’ve seen what you are — what your world is.”  A brief drop of existential dread briefly halted my anger.  Too disoriented to continue arguing, I simply told her to put me down.  Alexis left me on the floor and I marched out of her room.

Really, I had no clue what she meant when she said those kinds of things, but they scared me.  Every time an argument leads down the path of ‘nothing you know is real; I’m the only real one, and no one you know including you can do anything that matters’ I end up with nightmares for days.  What does she know that I don’t?  Obviously it isn’t the truth… but what the hell has she seen to believe that?  What aren’t I seeing?  I sighed as I stepped into my ‘home’.  For fuck’s sake she makes me live in a goddamn dollhouse.

I sat heavily on the sofa just inside, staring down at the bracelet on my wrist.  Slowly, I reached down and felt around my torso, fearfully checking that everything really was alright.  If she’d pressed on me any harder I would’ve.. fuckin… burst.  If I died, would she let me live again?  Could she let me live again?  Do I even want to keep living like this?

All I could think of was how hellish my life would become the longer I stayed trapped in here.  It was only a matter of time before I snapped and started truly believing Alexis.  I didn’t know why she believed what she did, but there had to be a way to get her to see the truth.

God, that’s what she says to me.  ‘Isn’t there some way I can get you to believe me and see the truth?’  This is why I get fucking nightmares.  If- If I’m not real, what am I?  I’m living to one day escape this awful place, but what then?  Where do I go?  I don’t have money, I don’t have anything that hasn’t been given to me by Alexis.  

How did I manage to end up stuck with someone worse than John?  I hadn’t even finished getting away from him before she came and stole me.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps thundered through my sad excuse for a home — their tremors rattling things off of shelves.  I’m going to start leaving everything on the floor at this point.

I flung myself down the hallway and rushed for the little closet beneath the stairs.  My ‘home’ is actually quite nice — a gigantic mansion-like place that had several floors and everything you could ever want in a home, and even some things you’d never need.  However, the colossal building is nothing compared with the giant one it sits inside of, belonging to the person — if that’s even what she is — who just stepped in.

The frightening whack of something large hitting the wall rang repeatedly from the side of my house.  The horrible giantess rapped on the wall beyond my hiding place.  “Hello?  Anyone home?”  I flinched, though I knew it was coming.  Keeping silent would do me no good.  If she really wanted, Alexis could reach out with a horrifying sixth sense and immediately know how to get to me.  So instead, I answered her.  “No!  Go away!”  A brief silence deafened me, followed by a patronizing ‘aww’ that made me feel like strangling someone.  Preferably her.

“Still a bit worked up?” she asked me, voice raised like she was speaking to an animal or small child.  “Yeah, I’m fucking pissed at you!” I answered angrily.  “Go away.”  A creaking groan echoed ominously through the house; she had NOT went away.  My heart skipped a beat and bile heaved up my throat as I piled a few cleaning supplies in front of me, putting as many objects between me and her as I could.  That groan always happened every time she pulled out a wall.  

The single most awful thing about this place is that a giant like Alexis could open up the walls to any room she wanted like a, well, a dollhouse.  The only one she couldn’t get to was this one and one of the bathrooms.  A while ago I’d hidden in that bathroom; she’d crushed the connected bedroom and tore a gigantic hole in the place just to drag me out of hiding ‘accidentally’.  Either I believe it was an accident and she really has that kind of strength, or it was purposeful and she’ll claw her way through anything to get me.

God, I feel sick.  Please just let me have one hiding spot, please.  The feeling of hiding from someone bigger than me — locking myself in somewhere so I don’t get hurt — it brings back such nasty memories of my childhood.  I hate it here.  I hate it here so much.

“Erica?  Where are you?”  Sounds of furniture being carelessly knocked over rumbled through my little hiding place.  Closer and closer, the sound of scraping dragged its way to the door.  My eyes widened as splinters of wood cracked inward from outside — my eyes tearing up as I clasped my hands over my mouth to keep from shrieking.  “Ohh you’re in here,” I heard her quietly gasp in the same volume as a strong gust of wind.  The door cracked down the middle.  Pressure sent wooden shards flying into the room.

Sobbing, I buried my head between my legs — curled up in the far corner beneath every object I had in the cramped space.  “Don’t come in!  You can’t come in here!”

Silence.  The tension on the fractured door released.  “Why?”  I panted for breath, trying my best to speak instead of vomit.  “I- I don’t want you in here.  This place is mine.  You said it-” I had to close my mouth as an awful acidic taste hit my tongue.  Nervously, I swallowed it.  “You said I could have it to myself.”

“I.. guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Alexis mused.  “Alright, I’ll leave you in there.”  I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the cracked wooden door groaned with the release of her finger.  

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.  Even if you are a toy, you’re clearly sapient.”  Everything was so silent I felt like I was choking; a keening noise cut through the silence, abruptly stopping when she spoke again.  “You- You aren’t a doll.. in this world.  I’m sorry for treating you like one.  I’ll stop fiddling around with you, I- I’ll stop dressing you and carrying you from place to place.  You’re so cute sometimes I forget that you have autonomy.”

My face heated up in angry embarrassment.  It was really starting to feel like some sort of awful confession rather than an apology, though I knew all of it.  I was all too aware of what she’d done to me — how many lines she’d crossed and boundaries she’d overstepped.  How much of an object I am to her.  Or.. was?

“You’Ll-” my voice cracked.  “You’ll stop?  You’ll let me go home?”  “You are home,” she told me, “I can’t let you leave here, but I can let you have some space.”  I was such a mixture of overwhelmed by both disappointment and excitement that I toppled over as I tried to stand.  “You can start that right now!  Close the house!  Don’t open it again.  Just.. knock.  Carefully.  If you really have to.”  I peered out of the closet doorway just long enough to watch the wall fit back into place.  “Can I go outside or-”

“Don’t push it,” Alexis interrupted.  “You stay in here.  I’ll let you do whatever you want — to a degree, don’t burn the place down or anything,” she chuckled, “But you’re not allowed out there.  I can’t risk letting anyone besides you know what I’m doing.”  By ‘what I’m doing’ she meant the way she casually erased everyone’s minds of any events that might make people dislike her.  

No matter how many times I tried to convince her, or how many times I managed to prove that I was a real human being, she would never believe it.  She doesn’t want the truth.  That would make everything she’s doing horrific — not the fun little game that she sees it as.  She’s not going to stop.

I slept in the closet that night.

[life-spire]

[blondebrainpowered]

Frank Buck's elephant using a giant Underwood Elliott Fisher Co. typewriter at the New York World's Fair, 1940.

[darkwood-sleddog]

I just…helped somebody that didn’t know how to use a keyboard

[crunchybeards]

I am going to write one of the most important exams of my semester on a computer screen that's fucking cyan.

[jerkeline]

My new mechanical keyboard paired with my e-ink reader really is peak writing set up, what have I been doing all this time slogging away on my laptop like a chump?

[kingofdorkville]

i'm sorry but why am i getting news stories about inhaling from aerosol cans as if that's a new thing kids these days are doing?