Finding The Courage to Be Myself

Bonsoir ou bonjour, depending. This is me, I'm Lizzy-lue, a stray teenage American exploring tumblr. I'm a senior in high school, this is my personal blog, and I post whatever. I'm shy, but I would love to talk to you, message me.

Beware: This tumblr user has gone Tron crazy.
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Everyone is writing such amazing fics this weekend, I wanted to contribute. AU, post legacy. I hope this makes sense.

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After being in the User world for however long, Tron decides it is unacceptable to further burden Alan and or Sam with his freeloading. He needs to get a job. Tron ends up trying to teaching nine year olds martial arts at a kung-fu/karate/judo/ect. (doesn’t matter because Tron just does his own thing anyway) school. What ensues is cute, awkward, and full of don’t-know-what-do-tiny-users-Tron.

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original: codename-scarecrow
via: winzler
codename-scarecrow:



Rinzler was asked:
Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
Rinzler answered with a drawing.



Reblogging because I wrote a ficlet for this earlier. Here.
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Sam walked into the Bradley house, pushing the front door open with his foot after a complicated balancing maneuver with the doorknob. His arms were full of groceries.“Hey, Lora, I picked up those things you needed.” He called as he nudged the door shut with his hip. When no one answered, Sam walked into the pristine kitchen, and rested the full to bursting greenbags down on the tabletop.There was something new tacked to the fridge that caught his eye. In a room that was always kept so neat and orderly, something new always stood out. He stepped closer, it looked like a children’s drawing.What the hell? His stomach did a back flip and he could feel the color draining out of his face. This was a depiction of himself, lying on the ground disemboweled while a certain murderous killbot stood over him, disks raised in triumph.“Lora, what’s this?” He asked as he heard the telltale clip-clop of her heels against the tile when his Godmother entered the kitchen.“Oh, that’s just something Rinzler drew earlier. Isn’t it adorable? Fascinating that a program of all things has such a talent.”Sam looked over his shoulder to see if she was being serious. Sure enough she was beaming, smile and eyes radiating with something he could only describe as pride. Sam’s mouth hung open in horror. “You hung it up on the fridge like he’s your second grader. He’s a monster-” He tried to protest.When Alan said he had ‘taken care’ of the program known as Rinzler, he had been under the impression Rinzler would be tied to a steel basement support with tow chains and padlocks the size of his fist, or something of that like. Lora had crossed her arms in front of herself and shot him an enraged glare that stopped his mouth in it’s tracks.“Sam, this is an important part of him feeling at home here. We want him to feel he belongs.”The sound of Lora’s raised voiced summoned the newest Bradley house resident. The ticking purring, louder than Sam had ever heard it, echoed off the kitchen walls. It sounded like it came from every direction, and worse, Lora was beaming again.
“Look, he’s so happy to see you.” She said.
Sam swallowed audibly, and a twitching nervous smile crept onto his face as he was caught in Rinzler’s long dark shadow, spilling in from the doorway.
“I’m sure he is.” He tried to say but his voice failed him halfway through, he didn’t know what pathetic sound he made instead.Sam was trapped in this house with a homicidal AI and a mad women, he just hoped Alan got home before that drawing became a reality.
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1050ish word drabble, just had an inspiration moment.

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Drabble? - it’s almost short? :/

This is gen.

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The helmet was fused to his head, the same black material that surrounded his entire body like it was living tissue itself, an entirely seamless skin. She straddled his belly while her hands probed the shining void that hid his face, feeling around to the back off his head, trailing down along his neck for the release that would have been set into the helmet of an ordinary program.

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Yep, a fic about Rinzler singing. I love terrible-idea’s idea :D

Ironically.

Warning for murder.

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Run, program, run. This was Rinzler’s favorite game, he loved it when they ran.

The sounds that filled the dark space, one pair of footsteps pounding with a frantic rhythm against the ground, and Rinzler’s entirely soundless pursuit.

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Wrote this a long while ago.

It was a few crazy ideas that invaded my brain before scars aired. I thought I might as well post a link here quick, I’m too busy right now to move the entire thing into a post.

Synopsis: Um… it has a bucket load of Uprising character, minding their own business, doing whatever Uprising characters do. Then a wild Alan appears.

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Thank you so much, everyone who commented on my last post :)

It gave me confidence enough to write another chapter, hopefully this will be a distraction from all the Uprising drama.

Synopsis: Sassy Jarvis has had enough of your shit Clu.

Warning: T for violence and possible typos.

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This idea has been stuck in my head for a long time, I finally decided  to write it down when I read Ridyr’s Regenesis (from which it’s retained some inspiration). Wouldn’t it be interesting if Clu ended up an ISO? Also, The Sea is so enigmatic, I have this nagging feeling it has some kind of consciousness.

Rated T for dark themes and possible swearing.

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