#against her programming

[heyguysijusthereforawesome]

ummm ya i have a fanfic on wattpad and chapter nine will probablt come out on like.. Thursday if life goes well

don’t read it if you can’t handle my writing that sucks cheeks 💔💔

Remade my cover cause the old ones were buns 😿😿 (this one’s mid but its not as bad as the other ones)

[ishgard]

an impasse

Sphene had already made her deal with Zoraal Ja, there would be no wresting power from the King of Resolve. Yet even so it seemed no matter what recourse he offered, Queen Sphene would not - or perhaps, could not- accept any of it. Even so their relationship remained distantly amicable, even if quietly fraught.

I figure as much relative autonomy Sphene may or may not have had, there was simply no going against the plans that were laid out or the systems in place to support them - which he harbored his own suspicions about.

She did, however, use what power she had to support Kyanite's elusion of being discovered by Zoraal Ja. And while he couldn't exactly go about trying to dissuade and convince her as much as he may have wished, he never gave up hope that one day she would see the reason for which she was named.

[dovalore]

saw this thing pop up during an arcadion blind prog stream

[davvekat]

Also the chap 2 sneak peek type thing someone found is intersting af

Idk if anyone else talked Abt this so I'm posting it

[amazingdeadfish]

(sorry, English isn't my language)If it's not too much to ask, or if it bothers you, you can make Macaque and The Major like Eva and Wally, if you want and if it doesn't bother you of course. By the way, I love your art.

Assuming you're talking about Wall-E the Pixar movie

And of course, here is the method to this madness:

Guys. Chat. I did not know what I was doing.

You have to understand, Wall-E and EVE are such distinct characters with incredibly unique designs that I whole heartedly struggled to try and make Mayor and Macaque designs based off them.

But hey, I like a good challenge.

Thinking about Mayor, the LED screen from EVE was important, but instead of using it for her emotive eyes I thought it would be cool to use it for Mayor's mouth instead? I know their blank eyes are part of their trade mark, but so is their smile and I thought just in general, that feature of their face was more emotive than their eyes. The V shape in their chest is supposed to kind of (?) imitate their suit in their OG LMK design? And yeah all of the round shapes and the, floaty nature of their body is all from EVE. Generally though, when thinking of Mayor's design here, I kept in mind the idea of 'assistant' droids/robots, rather than what EVE actually is which is, an 'Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator probe droid'.

MACAQUE ON THE OTHER HAND?

I KID YOU NOT, NOTHING STUCK WITH THIS GUY-

I wanted to make him some sort of weather machine because I thought I could make his ears some sort of windmill (sobs). Or- try and actually reflect the cleaner droid aspect of Wall-E and like- I don't know, make that his whole gimmick. But that didn't work either. I tried everything guys. From giving him wheels to making him walk on four legs- from goggles to imitate his red eye mask to like- oh I don't know. Making him one of those- y'know, one of these

And then I remembered Macaque has a mech. A robot mech-

He became a fighter droid. Or, some kind of training dummy. Abandoned on earth but has a hell of a lot of survival skills so this dude kind of just... survived. Last robot standing, for 700 years. I specifically tried to give him more of a standard look, rather than more specialized like his mech. Like he's still himself, but it's a look you could see manufactured and copied a couple hundred times. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have used those shoulder-arm-joint-spikey-ring-things.

So yeah. This- sure it's Wall-E inspired (somewhat) but I think at this point these are just designs for a robot AU- hey wouldn't it be cool if there was a robot fighting ring AU and these two were the robot fighters- what if there was just a regular fighter ring AU and it was for shaodpwuppet-

Always. Here's an extra doodle. Mayor proceeds to steal the plant from Macaque and book it out of the planet.

[rowan-ashtree]

man. the wild robot hits different when you've read the murderbot diaries.

[redladydeath]

when I made this post, I was thinking about option three of this post

f!vox who wakes up every morning with a smile on her face

vox who allows her boss to treat her however he pleases

vox who doesn’t make sarcastic/sullen comments anymore

vox who repeats to herself how lucky she is to be able to live like this whenever her boss crosses her boundaries

vox who looks up at her boss with adoration whenever he lifts her onto his lap or gives her yet another extravagant gift

vox who lets her boss dress and undress her without flinching

vox who plays her role with fidelity, reminding herself all the while how privileged she is to have an overlord who treats her so well

vox who’s lost all hope that things could be different for her

vox who’s been so worn-down by the condescending treatment and her boss’ willful delusions regarding her that she thinks if she just casts all her doubts aside and fully commits to the role, she can trick herself into actually being happy

vox whose true self still exists, but she keeps it buried, drowned in false cheer and mind-numbing positive mantras in order to get through the day

now consider f!ram!vox

who wakes up every morning with a smile on her face

who allows alice to treat her however she pleases

who isn’t capable of doubting her friend anymore

who repeats to herself how lucky she is to have a friend like alice whenever she treats her in a less-than-kind way

who looks at alice with adoration whenever she shows her any kind of attention/affection

who unquestioningly allows alice to make all the decisions regarding her life

who berates herself whenever she experiences frustration at how she’s treated— alice always knows best, after all

who isn’t allowed to think about things being different

who repeats to herself every day that she’s happy, that she needn’t so much as think about trying to change anything because it’s all perfect the way it is

whose true self still exists but is buried under synthetic cheer and rigid directives that will never really be her own

[happyendingsong]

[archive-z]

it’s post-yr-wip wednesday, so enjoy more scenes from my forthcoming follow-up to krapp’s last tape, this time ft. events from the viewpoint of alice molloy, 1985-1989 ✨ all yr canon-typical content warnings for disordered substance use, pregnancy trauma, AIDS crisis-related death, child endangerment, codependent relationships with multiple concerning/unethical power differentials, etc.

“What mad Nijinsky wrote

About Diaghilev

Is true of the normal heart;

For the error bred in the bone

Of each woman and each man

Craves what it cannot have,

Not universal love

But to be loved alone.”

from “September 1, 1939”, by W. H. Auden 

It’s 1986 and Alice Molloy sits on the steps of San Francisco City Hall. She has been Alice Molloy for, approximately, the past thirty minutes. She is twenty-five years old. She looks out across Van Ness Avenue, at the War Memorial Opera House. She’s never been to the opera before. She’s never been married before, either. 

She rolls the name around in her mouth: Alice Molloy, Alice Molloy, Alice Molloy. She likes it. She feels like a snake that’s shed its skin, and now relaxes on the warmth of a sunned rock. She wonders how long it will take her to forget that she had any other name before this one. 

There is another her, maybe — scared and strung out — still inside, wandering the atrium. Maybe there is another her buried in a grave in Evergreen Cemetery. 

But this Alice, the one here on these steps, in this waning late afternoon sunlight, is Alice Molloy. She is Alice Molloy, with her newborn daughter, and her new husband, and their second-floor, one bedroom apartment near Buena Vista Park.  

—

December 6, 1985. The CDC recommends delaying pregnancy until more is known about the risks of mother-to-child transmission of AIDS. As of December 1, there have been 217 reported cases of AIDS among children under age 13, and 60% of them have died by the time of publication.

In Paris, their apartment is cold and there’s black mold around the windowsill. Daniel has a persistent cough. Alice wakes up nauseous. 

Three months ago, in San Francisco, Daniel gets an advance for a novel and insists they spend it all right away. 

Though he’s covering with bravado, Alice can tell he’s nervous. He’s never had more than a couple hundred dollars to his name, and never expected to have his sobriety tested in this manner either. 

They book two transatlantic tickets to Paris and a sublet in the Latin Quarter.

Alice wants to chainsmoke at café tables on crowded streets and imagine stories about passersby while Daniel scribbles in his notebook. She wants to go dancing. She wants to see the Mona Lisa. Alice is twenty-four, Daniel is thirty-two.

(Over the past several months, Alice has planned more funerals that she cares to count. She is perpetually in the final hospital visit-cremation-memorial service cycle. As the most junior member of the organisation, her duties tend to be administrative: making payments and filing bank receipts. By cash and by cheque, payments are made to the crematorium, the ambulance, the reception hall, to the sandwich caterers, to the company that rents the folding chairs and plastic table cloths, to the leaflet printers, and the delivery trucks. At the end of it all, someone has to fold up the chairs and turn off the lights. That someone is Alice. 

There is an impersonality to the deaths, she finds. Sometimes people with bring a framed photo of “the deceased” to the memorial service — a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, a roommate, a friend. When there’s no photo, she often pictures Raequel. Twenty-two now? Would she look older? Or younger? Paris presents itself as a respite). 

Paris’ crisp October turns to a drizzly November and finally to a frigid December. Any argument that sparks between Daniel and Alice is swiftly resolved by swallowing one’s pride and huddling together under their singular scratchy wool blanket for warmth. 

In Paris, Daniel has coughed for three months. He’s smoking his packs twice as slowly because he has to take bone-rattling, hacking coughs after every few drags. 

In Paris, Alice throws up three days in one week. 

(They have both danced around this. It is the heavy, silent thing they neglect to mention. Daniel is sick. Alice is sick. With what — who knows? Fading track marks testify to their rich, independent histories of indiscriminately sharing needles and swapping bodily fluids with, at best estimate, one quarter of the Bay Area’s creatures of the night). 

In Paris, over dinner, Alice tells Daniel she’s pregnant. 

She tells him she’s pregnant and he says yeah. 

He’s staring at the cigarette in his hand, poised over the ashtray and Alice can see the gears turning inside his head. France permits elective abortion up to ten weeks, she can see him thinking. She can tell he’s doing the math in his head. 

She tells him she’s pregnant, and he says yeah. 

They finish their meal in silence, but Alice is too nauseous to keep anything down so throws up again in the brasserie’s toilette. After she’s finished, she presses her head against the cool metal of the cubicle door and then kicks it violently several times. 

When she re-emerges, Daniel has already settled the cheque. He’s got  another cigarette in his mouth, this one unlit, and he’s chewing on the filter, eyes still staring into middle distance, gears still turning. Alice has stuffed her jacket pocket with extra towelettes in case she needs to throw-up in a public garbage can on their walk back to their apartment. 

—

“We both could have it —“ Alice’s train of thought twists and weaves, running the alternatives and counter-alternatives too fast to keep track of until its a circular, tangled mess. “It would be born sick,” she says. 

“We don’t know if we—“  

“But we could. What if it’s born sick? If it’s— if it’s not able to grow?”

“Failure to thrive,” Daniel supplies. 

“I know whatAnd, in a heartbeat of indignation, Daniel ask, “What? What do you want? Do you expect a child to consent to being born?”

“Maybe the hospital finds out! Maybe it’s — taken away from us. Because it’s our fault. How could we live with ourselves?”

“We make a choice. We live with it.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Look.” Daniel presses his hand to her cheek, and his eyes fixed on Alice’s. “If it’s wrong — does it matter?” His thumb traces her cheekbone, over the scar on her eyebrow, where it turns from dark to blonde. “All human decisions are made like this.” He kisses her eyebrow. He sounds surer and steadier than Alice has ever heard him before. “No parent knows what will happen to their kid. What does it matter if it’s wrong? There is no wrong. Just you and me. Me and you. And I want to be with you. Forever.”

Later, Daniel proposes and she says no. Things are falling apart. She doesn’t trust that the centre will hold.

On their last day in Paris, they go to the Louvre. Alice wants to see the Mona Lisa. 

—

San Francisco, 1989. Alice Molloy is twenty-nine. 

A week after the World Series Earthquake, Daniel’s mother calls him from Modesto to deliver the belated news of his father’s passing, the post-script to his unattended funeral. Daniel interrupts the daily pre-school drop off routine in order to purchase a self-obliterating quantity of heroin. 

It’s thirteen hours before Alice finds him. When she finally does, he crawls to her on his hands and knees. He clutches her legs, sobbing, shaking, and high. She says nothing to him, and her cool and implacable assessment of the situation is this: I take care of you, I’ve always taken care of you. I love you, I’ve always loved you. You and me, me and you. Daniel would not die here. Their dance would not end like this.

Her fingers grasp his matted curls, and she gently forces his head back to meet her gaze. With a thumb, she carefully wipes his grimy, tear-stained cheeks. She whispers to him: I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. How could you doubt such a thing? I have forgiven you of everything before now. I would forgive you every time, even this. 

And Alice knew this: Daniel was hers. And he would never runaway from her again. 

Outside, Lena is asleep in the backseat of the car. She is three years old. 

[very-important-muses]

Does anyone ever think that the reason that Jolinar sacrificed herself for Sam was because she didn't want to outlive yet another host?

[skeletoninthemelonland]

Seeing mouse man for first time i thought for a sec that you un-rabbitfied William tbh xD

Everyone un-rabbit that man

yeah!!!!!! un-rabbit that man!!!!

oh but that is so cool actually. i've seen artists drawing their favs differently every time until they're completely apart from the original character. they are so sexy for that tho

[nether-moth]

Jackson Graduated from the F. T. O program only a month before his death

[fagbearentertainment]

could you imagine beingf trans in the wrreck ift ralph univberse you coudl break intot he source code and change youre apeparance however you want that woudl be so so cool. what if turbo did that and was transmasc

Would transmasc turbos catchphrase be trans-tastic

[kestrel-of-herran]

some realistic ways i see rose being included in the night agent season three, for the sake of proving that even if she's not made an agent, she's more than guaranteed a role in the story as is set up so far

1. gabriel has indicated a few times that he might want to retire from acting again; if he goes through with that this season, they can retire peter to cali and get a new lead for next season; rose might get a cameo at the very end, take him to therapy (this is my worst-case scanario bc i want her in the action long-term)

2. catherine, being aware of rose's hacking skills and her software, might pull her in for help with something, unbeknowst to peter at first, to help resolve the endgame of the season; invoking protecting peter will most likely get rose to join (would prefer it if this takes place at least three eps before the end of the season so we get some good scenes)

3. one of rose's potential or wannabe clients for the software might turn out to be shady and involved with the main plot; she and peter could run into each other while she's having a business meeting about it in the white house; she might try to sabotage the sale or software (this is my current fave bc it keeps rose in her own unique position in the story but also gives her a major role, it's something the writers can do if they're super adamant about not making her an agent)

4. rose believing in peter's goodness and wanting to defend him against the world is a common theme; she can use her software to manipulate some video footage to bail him out of being implicated in something at the end of the season, if catherine is willing to let him take the fall (he threw his life away for hers and y'all expect her not to keep tabs on him???)

5. if rose is in the same place as peter during a dangerous showdown, he can prioritize her safety again, or she can pull a gun or throw a punch and tell peter she took a self-defence course. chef's kiss (imagine if he has to protect someone in the white house but rose is also around doing her attracting investors job, or being pulled for a hearing on her software, when there's a bomb threat or the like, and he puts her first again bc he can't help it)

6. the guy blackmailing peter will likely have someone trailing rose and show photos of her daily life as proof anytime peter seems to be about to thwart him; peter might want to make a deal with catherine to have some security detail on rose until the mission is done (we are so getting at least a cameo for continuity... it's okay if rose is just a voice on the phone too if they bring her back in the next season)

[punkrockisafulltimejob]

For those who are unsure of whether or not they really have the "sensitivity to cold" symptom of fibromyalgia, because you think that it's just you not being able to handle colder temperatures like other people, that's one way of putting it. The other way is, when it's winter and the temperatures start dropping, do you feel your pain more intensely? Do you feel like you have more problems with your joints? Is your partner always commenting how cold your fingers and toes are, but it somehow gets more frequent in winter? Those are other ways to consider being sensitive to the cold.

[eyedruple]

thinkg about. that stupid fucking shrimp