#NDA creation

[mattersuite]

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[girlbob-boypants]

We live in an era where ownership doesn't exist but only in a capitalist "making the most money off everyone" way not in a community way

[axeeglitter]

Back from the Vault: LifeX

Nathan Brown sat hunched over his desk, the glow of his laptop screen illuminating his tired eyes. His San Francisco apartment was a mess: clothes strewn across the floor, empty takeout containers stacked on the kitchen counter, and a half-empty coffee mug perched precariously on the edge of his desk. Nathan's bed was unmade, a tangled heap of blankets and pillows. The room smelled faintly of stale air and sweat, the result of a broken air conditioning unit and a lack of motivation to clean.

Nathan was staring at his laptop screen, scrolling through yet another round of job listings. His bank account was dangerously low, and the anxiety of unpaid bills was gnawing at him. He was 26 years old, recently graduated with a degree in communications, and he was struggling to find any kind of work. His YouTube channel, where he reviewed video games and shared walkthroughs, was his only source of income, but the revenue it brought in was barely enough to buy groceries, let alone pay rent or bills.

Nathan was average in build, with a light tan from his Latino heritage, and short, dark hair that he usually kept neat. His face was lightly stubbled, a sign of his growing indifference to grooming as stress took over. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones. He was on the brink of giving up when a notification popped up on his screen, breaking his focus.

"Subject: Exciting Opportunity for Collaboration!"

Nathan hesitated, then clicked on the email. It was from a company called LifeX. He didn’t recognize the name, but curiosity got the better of him.

“Dear Nathan,

We’ve come across your YouTube channel and believe we could work well together. LifeX is launching a groundbreaking new game, and we are looking for individuals to help us with beta testing and promotion. Your content aligns perfectly with our vision, and we think this could be a great collaboration. If you accept, you’ll also be able to help us optimize the AI of our games by creating your own NPC character, it’ll be later implemented in the game when it’ll be released. Of course, we offer financial compensation for your work.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Best regards, The LifeX Team”

Nathan’s first instinct was skepticism. It sounded too good to be true, and he’d heard horror stories of scams and phishing attempts. But the desperation for money overrode his better judgment. He quickly searched for LifeX online, finding only a sparse website filled with vague marketing speak about “immersive experiences” and “cutting-edge technology.” There were no reviews, no user testimonials, nothing solid. This should have been a red flag, but Nathan was too desperate to care. He needed this. He needed a break.

Nathan decided to respond. He typed out a quick reply expressing his interest. Almost immediately, another email arrived, containing a download link, setup instructions, and a NDA requesting his personal information: name, age, location, and other details. Nathan filled out the form, barely thinking about the potential consequences. He selected the longest trial period possible: one month, hoping it would give him enough content for his channel and enough time to determine if the collaboration was worthwhile.

As soon as he submitted the form, a melodic chime sounded from his laptop, followed by a smooth, professional voice:

“Thank you for signing up, Nathan. To begin your experience, you will first create the NPC character, and then you’ll be ready to start your experience in the environment you’ll choose. For the trial to run successfully, please ensure that your computer remains on for the entire duration of the test period: one month. Any interruption may result in data loss or corruption. Welcome to LifeX.”

Nathan frowned at the last part but shrugged it off. He figured it was just standard legalese, probably meant for immersion. The screen changed to a character creation window, displaying a basic human figure in a T-pose. Nathan leaned forward, curiosity piqued, and started customizing the avatar.

He named the avatar “Cody,” envisioning him as the polar opposite of himself. Cody would be everything Nathan wasn’t: confident, athletic, and effortlessly cool. He adjusted the height to 6'4", pushed the muscle sliders to the maximum, giving Cody bulging biceps, a broad chest, and thick, powerful legs holding a perfectly muscled ass. From the corner of his eyes, Nathan spotted a slider on the groin area. He laughed as he understood he could also determine how big he could adjust Cody’s penis and balls. Smiling, he selected the largest option possible for his dick and added a huge heavy pair of balls to go with it, watching it grow in proportion to the rest of his body. He added bright hazel eyes, bushy eyebrows, and messy dark brown hairs that would contrast perfectly to the pale sun kissed skin.

After the body customization, Nathan saw a new window open: Clothes and accessories. After thinking about it, he chose a pair of denim shorts that ended mid-thigh, showing off Cody’s muscular legs. Nathan opted for no T-shirt, exposing Cody’s ripped torso and added a ripped sleeve shirt opened on his muscled hair pecs. He then moved on to accessories and decided to put a loop earring on his right ear and a silver chain around his neck.

After the customization was done, it was asked for Nathan to enter some information about the NPC he just created to create a base behavior for him. After a while, Nathan decided to go for the stereotypical fratbro behavior to go with the appearance he just did. He started typing, adding details about Cody’s lifestyle. He entered notes in the behavior interface: “Cody is dumb as a brick. He loves gym, training and being barefoot, feeling the ground under his calloused feet.” He laughed as he added another line: “Cody never takes showers, loves the smell of his own musk, enjoys sniffing his hairy armpits after a workout and scratching his big dick every couple of minutes after what he smells them and always smile enjoying his own musk.” Nathan chuckled, amused at the thought of creating such a ridiculous character. It was so far removed from his real life that it seemed like a fun NPC to talk and interact with. Just a dumb easy-going character that is always down for a fuck and a drink after a gym session barefoot in the woods.

Satisfied with his creation, he confirmed the settings. The game prompted him to select a location, and he chose the Secluded Forest Realm, envisioning Cody as a carefree physical trainer just out of college living in a cabin in the wilderness.

The screen went black for a moment, and the professional voice returned: “Now that your character is complete, it’s time to play! Please keep your computer running at all times to maintain synchronization. Any interruption may lead to data corruption. Enjoy your month-long experience, Nathan, and welcome to LifeX.” Nathan was really getting excited now. He conder what kind of character he would create for himself when he saw a flash of light on the screen. It looked like some kind of swirling mesh, almost like a blackhole. For a moment Nathan thought it was kind of a cool effect, but everything changed when he went to grab his half drink cup of coffee sitting next to him only to realize his right hand was tingling and tiny particles were escaping his nails, flying straight to his screen.

A sudden wave of fatigue hit Nathan, and the lights in his apartment flickered briefly. A sense of unease washed over him, making the hairs on his arms stand up. Before he could react, the tingling sensation spread from his fingertips up through his arms. He stared in disbelief as his fingers began to dissolve into streams of glowing white code, spreading quickly across his body. He tried to scream, but his voice caught in his throat. His vision blurred as the Life X logo was pulsing in bright light in the center of the screen with a loading bar under it going up further and further. The last thing he saw was the 100% before everything went black.

Nathan found himself suspended in a void. He was floating, naked, surrounded by darkness. Panic set in, his heart racing as he tried to move, but his body was frozen in a T-pose. The sensation was bizarre, as if he were trapped in a dream. He wanted to call out, but his voice was muffled, like shouting underwater. The smooth, professional voice returned, echoing through the void:

“Welcome to your new life, Nathan. Don’t panic; this process is normal and painless. In a few moments, you will begin your ideal life in the Secluded Forest Realm. Relax and feel calm. Avatar synchronization will begin in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”

“What the fuck, where am I? What is going on? Why can’t I move?! HELP!!” thought Nathan as he tried to scream even though his face remained frozen.

Nathan’s body suddenly stiffened. A pressure built inside him, starting at his core and spreading outward. His bones stretched and cracked, lengthening to match Cody’s new height. His arms and legs grew longer, muscles bulging and expanding to fill out his new form. Nathan could feel his muscles tearing and healing at an accelerated rate, becoming stronger and more defined with each passing second.

His skin began to tighten, smoothing out imperfections and leaving with a perfectly smooth skin all around his muscled body. Nathan would be screaming if his voice mas not muted. Everything was burning and it was like feeling his DNA being rewritten while still being conscious. As he felt tears rising up his eyes, a new sensation invaded his newly modified skin. In his pits, legs and between his pecs, he felt like thousands of needles were piercing holes. The sensation was only multiplied as he started to feel hair sprouting from the holes. They were dark brown and thick but worst, the sensation of piercing needles started to appear around his groin too. Still wondering what was happening to him, Nathan tried to connect the elements he could find and that when he realized. The secluded forest, the muscles, the hair; that was Cody’s information, which means… Just enough time to understand what was happening to him when the hair started to sprout in abondance around his dick and nuts and climbing up his sculpted abs in a thin happy trail. After the hair, the modifications started to appear on his face. His jawline becoming sharper and more angular, his cheekbones more pronounced. His lips filled out, becoming more defined, while his eyebrows grew thicker, framing his eyes. His vision sharpened, colors becoming brighter and more vivid. His brown eyes shifted to a bright hazel as he lost vision for a moment. Everything was happening all at once and still, Nathan felt like it was an eternity of pain.

Nathan’s hair thickened, turning into soft, dark strands that fell casually over his forehead. His ears reshaped slightly to match his new head structure. A sensation of warmth spread through his throat as his vocal cords tightened, his voice box reshaping. When he tried to speak, his voice was deeper, richer, and carried a slight accent, a relaxed, Western drawl.

Nathan felt a growing warmth in his groin and realized what was about to happen now. All of a sudden, he regrated giving Cody such a big dick and heavy nuts. His cock thickened and lengthened, becoming larger than Nathan had ever been. He could feel the veins snaking down his growing dick as his cock head started to grow thicker and bigger. He could feel the cold air surrounding him as the head sneaked out of his foreskin. Wait, his foreskin? He didn’t remember going this far in details. His nuts fall down and grew thicker and full of potent cum as he could feel them going overload working on creating new manly sperm nonstop. Nathan could feel the horniness starting to rise as his body was assaulted by huge amount of testosterone. A drop of precum appeared at the tip of his cock as he could feel the weight of it between his legs, an odd sensation that both embarrassed and intrigued him. His buttocks tightened, becoming firm and lifted, while his thighs and calves thickened with muscle.

The transformation was almost complete when Nathan felt a sharp pain on his left pec. He wanted to scream, but his body was still frozen. The pain was like a branding iron pressing into his skin. “What is this?!” screamed Nathan in his new deep voice. A voice appeared from all around him “Dear user: NATHAN BROWN, as talked with you earlier on, you agreed to review and help us create the new generation of AI used for our NPCs. For that, your character, CODY, will have to be monitored. This assignation, XXIV, is the link to your identity and allow us to track your character. Please relax as your actions will be tracked and then saved. The program will make sure to copy all your movements, thoughts and everything that your character, CODY, might do to make sure to copy human mechanism that will be implemented in our NPCs later on. Thank you for your service.” When it subsided, a Roman numeral tattoo “XXIV” was there, bold and black, as if it had always been part of him. Nathan could feel the tattoo pulsing with energy, as if it was more than just ink on skin.

As his body finished transforming, clothes materialized around him. He now wore a sleeveless, open checkered flannel shirt and a short pair of denim shorts. Then he felt his ear being stabbed as the earing appeared in it and the coldness of the silver metal appeared around his neck. His feet then started to tingle as Nathan could feel the skin of his sole getting thicker and denser to better serve his barefoot lifestyle in the forest.

Nathan was terrified about what he just heard; his humanity was going to be used to program AI that will be implemented in NPCs. How is that even possible? Does that mean he was Cody now? And for a whole month? He didn’t agree to this. He had a life outside, friends, job to find, maybe some interviews if he was lucky. And about the bills? What was he going to do?

As all the questions were swirling in his head, Nathan fell the restriction holding his body in place as it was being modified lift. He could move on his own again, and the first thing he tried to do was take of his shirt or necklace. But every tug on the clothes or metal fell like he was trying to rip a part of him away. The clothes were part of him now. Nathan started to feel tears rise once again in his ears as all he could see around him were the infinite void of this artificial world. “Modification process terminated, Assimilation to the realm starting in 3,2,1…” Out of nowhere, the ground started to shake under Nathan’s barefoot. Then he saw light pierce through the ceiling. As a reflex, he put his hands to cover his bright hazel eyes but the light was way too bright. Nathan could see entire walls of darkness vanish and being obliterated by this bright light coming from above and fear started to raise in him. Nathan closed his eyes as all he could see was the infinite light engulfing the void and him with it. When he opened his eyes, Nathan was alone in a cabin in the woods, standing in front of a mirror. For the first time, he could see from the first person point of view what the body he created really looked like. Everything was looking so life like, even scent of pine and dirt were coming from the opened window next to him. He could smell the woods, feel the sun on his skin, the wood under his foots. Everything was lifelike. As Nathan sight started to look what his transformed body looked like, his head started to spin. Nathan grabbed it with his two manly hands but the pain was growing stronger. And in the blink of an eye, Nathan was no more. Cody stared at his reflection before smiling and flexing his biceps while smiling. His right hand lowered to get inside his shorts and scratch his hairy dick before putting his fingers under his nose to smell his musk. Cody laughed as he walked away, grabbing a snack on his way out to go exercise a bit in the nature.

“New NPC starting test phase. Remaining time 30 days, 23 hours 59 minutes 23 seconds. Behavior analysis… Acting following user NATHAN BROWN encoding. Tester assimilation… Assimilation stable, user will turn back when tests are over.”

______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Here's another story back from the Vault, and it's my first ever published story: LifeX Hope you guys enjoy this new version of my story. Let me know what you think of it. As always, my asks are open and i'm always looking for new ideas and prompts from you. I try to answer them all and I love to read your ideas so please, don't be afraid to send anything you'd like me to write and I'll do my best to do it :) Take care of yourself! P.S. A follow up to this story should arrive soon ;)

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ povlnfour masterlist

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

.jpg (just propose goddamnit)

lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future

how do you turn this thing off?

fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

crash landing

lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

tales of candor

lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

everybody talks

lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

paddock to paddock (complete)

in which two athletes in different disciplines find a common ground

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS

overdrive

a practical stranger is determined to change your opinion on cars (and maybe make you fall in love in the process)

end up here

a night out, a long walk home, and a pretty stranger happy to accompany you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

secret love song

an anonymous account starts posting photos found on a private account supposedly belonging to f1 superstar charles leclerc. as the photos start circulating, an unknown face joins the picture that leads to speculation charles has a girlfriend he’s been hiding.

content creation

when ferrari hire a new content creator to help their social media presence, fans start noticing a certain friendship developing between her and their star driver.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS

coming soon…

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

beached!

after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral

study break

oscar piastri is a formula 1 driver. y/n is an international relations student. her friends find her relationship pretty hard to believe. especially when she can’t tell them any details for you know… nda reasons.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ OTHER DRIVERS

i currently have no fics posted for other drivers, however i will also be writing for: alex albon, lewis hamilton and sebastian vettel

[utilitycaster]

Daggerheart Character Build thoughts!

I am actually out at work and haven't checked the version that's since come out, but I did participate in the character build beta, and the NDA is officially lifted, so here's my thoughts from that! It's definitely limited since I just made a L1 character and didn't go through gameplay, though I surmise about some aspects of gameplay.

Overall, it clearly seems to be made by people who love a lot of things about D&D 5e but wanted both more flexibility and more simplicity, which is difficult. I think they succeed.

To that end, it takes away some of the crunchier aspects (precise positioning, exact amounts of gold) and I think for some people that will be a problem, and that's valid, but ultimately this game wants to both allow for interesting mechanics in and out of combat while also not being terribly math/map/resource management heavy. It is a hard line to walk; most systems either go hard crunch or go entirely gooey.

The dice mechanic (2d12, Hope and Fear system) is fantastic; look it up but I think it handles mixed successes more gracefully and interestingly than a lot of games.

The playtest was not super clear on armor and evasion choices (or indeed what evasion means; it seems to be sort of initiative but sort of dex save, or maybe more like the Pathfinder/old school D&D varying ACs by scenario?). It was much, MUCH clearer than D&D on weapon choices (part of why I play casters? Weapon rules in D&D are annoying and poorly explained and many people rightfully ignore them) so I'm hoping this becomes clear when there's a full guide rather than just the character creation info.

The character creation questions by class were fantastic and in general, and this is a theme, this feels like it guides people towards collaboration. FWIW I feel like D&D has that information, but the way it's presented is very much as flavor text rather than a thing you should be doing. Daggerheart makes this a much more core part of creation. The Experience mechanic is particularly clear: you better be working with your GM and really thinking about background, rather than slapping it on as a mechanic.

The other side of character creation questions is that it really encourages engagement with the class, which is something I've talked about. I think either subversion for the sake of subversion, or picking a class for the mechanics and aesthetic but not the fundamental concept, will be much harder to justify in Daggerheart, and I think that's a good thing because when people do that, their characters tend to be weaker.

The downtime is designed for you to write hurt/comfort fanfic about and this is a compliment. There are a number of mechanics that reward RP, particularly one of the healing mechanics under the Splendor track. I feel like a weakness of D&D is that when you try to reward RP it's really nebulous because there's not actually a ton of space to put that - you can give inspiration, but, for example, the empathy domain Matt homebrewed actually feels kind of off because it's based on such fuzzy concepts amid mechanics that are usually more rigid. Daggerheart comes off as much cleaner yet still RP-focused, and I'm excited to see it in action.

A judgement of Candela and I suppose Daggerheart might be that it's designed for actual play. I've mentioned before that I know people who are super into the crunch and combat and numbers of TTRPGs and are less story-oriented, and again, that's valid, but actual play is just storytelling using a ttrpg and so yes, a game that encourages RP while also having mechanics to support that and influence it is an extremely good goal. I am not an actual player, but I do like D&D games with a good plot and not just Go Kill Monsters, and I want to play this. (I also have some real salty thoughts about how if you modify an existing game for AP purposes that's staggering genius apparently, but if you make your own game how dare you but that's another post).

And now, the classes/subclasses. I am going to sort of use D&D language to describe them because that's a point of reference most people reading this will understand, but they are not one-to-one. A couple notes: everyone can use weapons and armor. HP is not totally clear to me but it seems to be threshold based - everyone has the same HP to start but people have different thresholds and armor, so the tank classes have the same amount of HP but are much harder to actually do damage to.

All classes are built on a combination of a subclass and two domains. There are 9 classes and 9 domains. This technically means that if you wanted to fuck around and homebrew you could make up to 36 classes (27 additional) by just grabbing two domains that weren't otherwise combined, which is fun to consider for the potential. Anyway I cover the classes and briefly describe domains within them. You can take any domain card within your domain, regardless of subclass.

There are six stats. Presence, Instinct, Knowledge, and Strength map roughly to Charisma, Wisdom, Intelligence, and Strength. Dex is split into Agility and Finesse; Agility covers gross motor skills (jumping, most ranged weapons, "maneuvering") and Finesse finer ones (lockpicking and tinkering, though also it does cover hiding). The really big wins are first, no CON score, so you don't need to sink stat points into something that grants no skills but keeps you alive. The second one is that the "hybrid" classes spellcast from their physical stat. This is fucking fantastic. The thing about ranger or paladin or the spellcasting subclasses of rogue and fighter in D&D is that if you don't roll pretty well you're locked into the core stats and CON and nothing else. (This also doesn't have rolling for stats: you assign +2 to one stat, presumably your main, and then distribute two +1s, two 0s, and one -1.)

Your HP, Evasion, and Thresholds are set by class, and there's a core ability; the rest is all from the cards you take for subclass and domain.

Leveling up is very much based on taking more domain cards (abilities) but has a certain degree of flexibility. It's by chunks: in leveling up anywhere levels 2-4, you can, for example, increase your proficiency by +1 once, so if you wanted to do that at level 2 but your fellow player wanted to wait until level 4 and take something else at level 2 instead, they could. It allows for more min-maxing, but also everyone has the same level up rules and differs only in the abilities on the cards, which is very cool.

Bard: Grace (enchantment spells) and Codex (learned spellcaster stuff; the spells available are definitely arcane in vibes) based, Presence is your main stat. The two subclasses map roughly to lore-style stuff and eloquence. Core class ability is sort of like inspiration but not entirely. It's a bard; I like bards a lot, and this is very similar vibes-wise to your D&D bards. If you like D&D bards you will like this.

Druid: Sage (nature spells) and Arcana (raw magical power spellcaster stuff), Instinct is your spellcasting/main stat. The two subclasses are elemental but frankly cooler than circle of the moon, and a more healing/tranquility of nature focused one. I really think Marisha probably gave feedback on this one, because the elemental version is really strong. You do get beastform; it is quite similar to a D&D druid under a different system, as the bard, but the beastform options are, frankly, better and easier to understand.

Guardian: Valor (melee tank/damager) and Blade (damage). Strength based for the most part (Valor mechanics assume strength) though you could go for like, +2 Agility +1 Strength to start. This is barbarian but like. 20 times better. It is, fundamentally, a tank class, and it is very good at it, with one even more tank-focused subclass and one that is more about retaliatory damage. You do have a damage-halving ability once per day, but really guardian's questions are incredible. I think Travis and Ashley likely gave feedback. Also rage doesn't render you incapable of concentration as that doesn't seem to be a thing, so multiclassing seems way more possible (you are, I think, only allowed to do one multiclass, and not until you reach level 5 minimum, which I am in favor of). Yes, you can be a Bardian.

Ranger: This is what I built! It is based on Sage and Bone (movement around the field/dodging stuff) and it is Agility-based, including for spellcasting, which is a MASSIVE help (as is, again, the fact that CON isn't a thing.) The subclasses are basically being really good at navigation, or animal companion. Most importantly to me you can be a ranger with a longsword and you are not penalized; Bone works with either ranged weapons or melee.

Rogue: Midnight (stealth/disguise/assassination spells and skills) and Grace-based. Yes, rogue is by default a spellcaster, which does help a LOT with the vibes for me. One subclass is basically about having lots of connections (as a spy or criminal might) and the other is about magical slinking about. Hiding/sneak attack are also streamlined. I will admit I'm still more interested in…almost everything else, but I think it evened out a lot of rogue weaknesses.

Seraph: Splendor (healing/divine magic) and Valor. This is your Paladin equivalent. It is strength-based for casting, again making hybrid classes way less stressful. Questions for this area also incredible; you do have something not unlike a lay on hands pool as well. Your subclasses are being able to fly and do extra damage; or being able to make your melee weapon do ranged attacks and also some extra healing stuff, the latter of which is my favorite. Yasha vibes from this, honestly. Single downside is this is the only class where they recommend you dump Knowledge. I will not, and I never will. Now that I don't have to make sure CON is high? I am for REAL never giving myself less than a +1 Knowledge in this game.

Sorcerer: Arcana (raw nature of magic/elemental vibes) and Midnight based. Yes, sorcerers and rogues now share a vibe, for your convenient….less enthused feelings. Instinct-based, which intrigues me, and the core features are in fact really good. The two subclasses are either one that focuses on metamagic abilities, or one that is elemental based. I would play this for a long-running game, though it's not my favorite, and I can't say that for D&D sorcerer (except divine soul).

Warrior: Blade and Bone, and the recommended build is Agility but you could do a strength build. Fighter! One subclass is about doing damage and one is about the hope/fear mechanics core to the game that I have NOT talked much about. I will admit, the hybrid martials and Guardian are more interesting to me but you do have good battle knowledge.

Wizard: Codex and Splendor. Wizards can heal in this system; farewell, I will be doing nothing else (jk). Knowledge-based, and you can either go hardcore expertise in knowledge, or be a battle wizard.

Other scattered thoughts: healing is not as big a deal here; there is no pure cleric class! There is also no monk, warlock, or artificer. There is not a way to do monk as a weaponless class really though you might be able to flavor the glowing rings as a monk weapon and play a warrior. Wizard, meanwhile, with the right experiences and high finesse, would allow for some artificer flavor. Cleric and Warlock are the two tough ones and I will admit those are tricky; I feel like you'd have to multiclass (which you cannot do until level 5) between perhaps seraph and a caster class and you're still going to come off very paladin.

[disneytva]

Annecy Film Festival Website Lists Time For Disney Television Animation And Disney EMEA Animation Panel.

Annecy Film Festival has unveiled it’s full schedule from screenings, panels and studio focus. The website has listed the Dragon Striker/Disney Television Animation/Disney EMEA Animation. The panel is slated for Tuesday, June 10th at 18:00PM EST.

The panel will only feature the creators and crew of the upcoming Dragon Striker series however it seems that they will unveil new series orders and new season greenlits for both units.

ICYMI: Based on the Disney Careers website, Disney Television Animation greenlit 6 new NDA animated series across Disney Channel, Disney Jr. and Disney+.

Dragon Striker – A Chouette Studios Production

Tuesday, June 10th, from 6:00PM EST - 7:00PM EST

During a Studio Focus session on Tuesday, June 10, attendees will get an exclusive look at the upcoming anime-inspired Disney+ Original series Dragon Striker.  Explore the creation of the epic anime-inspired Disney+ Original Series set in a world where sports and magic combine. From the genesis of the project at Chouette Studios in Paris to the symphonic music recording in Tokyo, the creative team from Chouette and Disney will take the audience on a journey through the artistic challenges they overcame at each stage of this ambitious fantasy adventure.

[phantomxarmy]

best part

Luke stiffens next to her and immediately Julie is on alert. The music video could be interpreted intimately, she supposes, if you didn’t know that she and Daniel were both in committed relationships with other people. She and Luke have been married for so long at this point, and together for even longer, that she didn’t think it was possible that Luke could get jealous but he doesn’t relax for the rest of the video. Should she have warned him? It’s not like she could have until everything was said and done anyways – there was a very strict NDA she’d had to sign to be a part of the movie’s soundtrack. 

Working on a song that she hadn’t had a direct hand in writing or creating was a brand new (re: weird) experience for her, but it let her enjoy playing around in a new genre without the pressure of getting caught up in the details. In an effort to promote the nostalgia of the movie, the publicity team wanted to include a music video for the title track. A lot of back and forth had gone into the creation of the video, but to honor her and Daniel’s partners they’d ultimately gone for a stripped down version of the song with the musical duo on two stools, angled towards one another as they sang staring into each other’s eyes. 

She’s about to ask him which part was bothering him, but he gets up without a word and crosses the room. Before she can ask a single question out of the now many swirling in her mind, he’s got his guitar and he’s sitting back down with a little more gusto than necessary.

“What are you doing?” 

“Writing a new song for you.” The soft, melodic melody is beautiful and comforting but so not them.

“We switching genres now?” 

“Um, yes. Julie and the Phantoms is now officially an R&B group.” She’s afraid he’s actually serious.

“Did you stop to think that maybe I don’t want to sing R&B? That I love our band and our sound?”

“Jules. Did you hear yourself on that song?”

“...yes?” 

“Well, clearly you didn’t because R&B was made for your voice.” 

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t sing rock anymore?”

“What? No, of course not. You’re a rock goddess but I can’t believe I never put it together before. We have been doing your voice a disservice for fifteen years.” 

He’s not just serious. He’s visibly upset about this. 

“Darling, what about this whole thing has got you all worked up?” 

“I can’t stand the thought that you’ve been tamping down your voice all these years just because I wanted us to be in a band together.”

“Luke, I grew up on a heavy diet of All The Music. Literally. The Rose Molina gave me the best musical education a person could have, and there was not a single genre my mom did not have us listen to. R&B was a big part of that, but so was rock. I chose rock because I wanted to. I chose our band because I believed in us. And I still do. I will always choose us, Luke, because our band is what I want.” Luke grimaces, seeming to realize how he must have come across just now. It came from a good place, so she'll let him off the hook. “I'm gonna own the compliment that I know you’re trying to pay me, because yeah, my voice is hella good. It’s good because I’ve worked at it and trained and practiced for it for decades with you. So let’s make any life and/or band-altering decisions together, yeah?” 

“Okay, yeah,” he swallows the sorry she knows is on the tip of his tongue when he sees The Eyebrow. “Can we listen to ‘Best Part’ again then? At least twelve more times. I was distracted by my panic the first time. And I plan to be distracted for at least a few more,” he smirks and leans in towards Julie, eyes dipping hungrily to her lips.

_____

prompt: Best Part by H.E.R and Daniel Caesar | ao3

[auzlon]

Status update

In the last few days I've had no sleep. lets go over the key points - in order.

SIGNED AN NDA

Kicked out of bar

made out with a guy

Yelled on the street at 2am at a guy

got sent $200 for texting an older guy

managed have no sex.

Some how I feel both progressed and regressed. I was reminded of my nature that he so sot to remove with ultimatly no avail. I think I said it once 'you can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city of the girl'.

In a younger version I would text a random guy and do the thing. Have an orgasm (If i was lucky) then repeat. This time with a little maturity. AND FINALY fucken self value. I won't throw myself at just anyone because I'm horny. I've given it up too much for too little and only lost friends in the process. I don't know what I was trying to find validation or thrill.

But I don't want love, Either. I'll reserve my love for two individuals.

Him, the imaginary one he exist only the boundlessness of my mind and creation. He - this person, can more then he, she, they? this person is me. They inhibit all of me, my fictious perfection exist in them.

And --him, the soul mate. The only one person who I've met physically who is more me than I am myself. I love him, in a away that is, complicated. because its survived through time and lovers- its been my beacon in the time when the love of my life is not enough. And somehow its my beacon now. He's mine. even with her. He's mine, but not like he is to her. Our love, exist only in the thought, nothing we can touch or see. It belongs only to a space we've agreed never to talk about because he is with her. My family makes comments about him, he's hung in the air of each failed relationship.

I enter the new year with a new version of me, she smokes cigarettes, drinks sparkling water to suppresses the alcohol craving, bought a new wardrobe, takes her son to the library, and I got bangs.

self reflections and revelations.

25 years old - 2025

tell me about You ??? have you changed this year

[denimbex1986]

'If Peaky Blinders made the Irish actor a household name, will Christopher Nolan’s nuclear blockbuster send him into the stratosphere? He talks about extreme weight loss, hating school and why his next character won’t be a smoker.

Cillian Murphy is struggling with what he can and can’t say about his title role in Oppenheimer, the latest Christopher Nolan epic, such is the secrecy surrounding this film. Murphy is under “strict instructions” not to talk about the content. Which is awkward when you’ve flown to his home in Ireland to interview him specifically about playing the physicist who oversaw the creation of the atomic bomb, later detonated over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It’s not clear who issued these instructions. Nolan? The studio? The US government? All I know is that as well as Murphy being gagged by hefty NDAs, I am not allowed to see it (“bit unfortunate”, he concedes).

So, yes, here we sit in an empty upstairs room of a restaurant near his house in Monkstown, Dublin, working out how to do this. The room is dark, the sun shining through a solitary Velux lighting his features like a Géricault. The only background noise is the low hum of a wine refrigerator. Murphy loathes interviews, looks visibly tortured at points. But he relaxes when I ask if he’s pleased with Oppenheimer. “I am, yeah,” he says. “I don’t like watching myself – it’s like, ‘Oh, fucking hell’ – but it’s an extraordinary piece of work. Very provocative and powerful. It feels sometimes like a biopic, sometimes like a thriller, sometimes like a horror. It’s going to knock people out,” he adds. “What [Nolan] does with film, it fucks you up a little bit.”

Nolan wouldn’t disagree. The director recently told Wired magazine that some of those who’d seen it were left “absolutely devastated … they can’t speak”. Which sounds like a bad thing, but is related perhaps to the thought of the 214,000 Japanese people, overwhelmingly civilians, who lost their lives when the bombs were dropped. Kai Bird, the historian who co-authored American Prometheus, the 2008 biography of J Robert Oppenheimer upon which the film is based, said he was still “emotionally recovering” from seeing the film, clarifying that it was “a stunning artistic achievement”.

Murphy’s portrayal is said to be astonishing (“Oscar-worthy” is the buzz). This is not unbelievable. While Hollywood might not know him as a leading man, this quietly intense actor has long been celebrated in the UK and Ireland, most notably for his nine-year stint as Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders. When he first appeared on our screens, looking like a renaissance painting of Saint Sebastian – chiselled head contrasting with translucent blue eyes – it was impossible not to be distracted. He appeared first on stage in Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs, then the screen adaptation. Then 28 Days Later; Intermission; Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Previous collaborations with Nolan include the Dark Knight trilogy, Inception and Dunkirk, “significant milestones in my career,” he says, adding that Nolan “might be the perfect director”.

It was Nolan’s wife, the producer Emma Thomas, who called Murphy one afternoon at the home he shares with his wife, artist Yvonne McGuinness, and two teenage sons. Nolan doesn’t actually have a telephone, or an email, or computer for that matter: “He’s the most analogue individual you could possibly encounter.” So, Emma said Chris would like a word and passed the receiver, then the director came on the line. “Cillian, I’d love you to play the lead in this new thing,” he said. Murphy tries to recreate his response to this news. “I was lost for words. But thrilled. Like beyond thrilled.” It is characteristic of Murphy that the modulation of his voice barely changes as he expresses this. He was so stunned, he had to sit down. “Your mind explodes.”

In the absence of the three-hour feature, I scrutinise Oppenheimer’s three-minute trailer. It’s a rush of snapshots against the crackling of a Geiger counter. There’s Murphy, short back and sides, lifting 1940s eye goggles; blue and red atoms coming at him fast; orange light; white light; blackout; silence. Massive explosion against the backdrop of space. Overlaid is Murphy’s narration, “We’re in a race against the Nazis / and I know what it means / if the Nazis have a bomb.” There’s Matt Damon looking porky as army general Leslie Groves, director of the Manhattan Project: “They have a 12-month head start.” Murphy, pointing with cigarette: “18.”

He has put back on some of the weight he lost for the part, I’m relieved to see; his skin isn’t quite so taut over his skull and there are freckles over those eagle-wing cheekbones. He was determined to nail the scientist’s silhouette “with the porkpie hat and the pipe”, testing himself to see how little he could eat. “You become competitive with yourself a little bit which is not healthy. I don’t advise it.” He won’t say how many kilograms he lost, or what food the nutritionist told him to cut out. NDA? “Ach, no. I don’t want it to be, ‘Cillian lost x weight for the part’.”

Then again, the hurtling speed at which Nolan worked, crisscrossing the US, made it easy to skip meals. Murphy began to forget about food in the same way he began to forget about sleep. “It’s like you’re on this fucking train that’s just bombing. It’s bang, bang, bang, bang. You sleep for a few hours, get up, bang it again. I was running on crazy energy; I went over a threshold to where I was not worrying about food or anything. I was so in it, a state of hyper …” he gropes for the word, “hyper something. But it was good because the character was like that. He never ate.” Oppenheimer subsisted on little more than Chesterfield cigarettes and double-strength martinis, rims dipped in lime. “Cigarettes and pipes. He would alternate between the two. That’s what did for him in the end,” Murphy adds, a nod to the scientist’s death from cancer in 1967. “I’ve smoked so many fake cigarettes for Peaky and this. My next character will not be a smoker. They can’t be good for you. Even herbal cigarettes have health warnings now.”

I raise method acting and Murphy tilts his head and frowns. “Method acting is a sort of … No,” he says, firm but with a half smile. Oppenheimer had many defining characteristics, not least walking on the balls of his feet and a vocal tic that sounded like nim-nim-nim, but Murphy didn’t want to do an impression. Nolan was obsessed with the Brillo-texture hair, so they spent “a long time working on hair”. And the voice. The real question for Murphy was what combination – ambition, madness, delusion, deep hatred of the Nazi regime? – allowed this theoretical physicist to agree to an experiment he knew could obliterate humankind. “He was dancing between the raindrops morally. He was complex, contradictory, polymathic; incredibly attractive intellectually and charismatic, but,” he decides, “ultimately unknowable.

“Listen, it’s not like a spoiler,” he says, checking himself before he leans in, “but there are incidents in his early life that were quite worrying; very erratic.” They are in the film and the book, he steers. I suspect he is referring to Oppenheimer’s postgrad at Cambridge in 1926, when he placed a poisoned apple on the desk of a tutor towards whom he harboured complicated feelings of inadequacy and jealousy. Arguably, this was attempted murder. But Oppenheimer’s rich New York parents rushed in to bundle him into psychoanalysis. He was diagnosed with “dementia praecox”, a term describing symptoms associated with schizophrenia.

Murphy likes these complex characters; they’re his meat. People that don’t necessarily follow the – yawn – traditional transformative arc of storytelling. Not villains, exactly (although he’s played a few, including Scarecrow in Dark Knight and Jackson Rippner in Red Eye): “Villains are good if they’re well written, but if it’s one note or a trope, then they are dull.” He likes a script to stretch leisurely into all corners of the human condition, “all the shades”. At the same time, you have to understand his exceptional ability to portray interiority, physically manifesting intense human emotion without a word, radiating fierce, consuming energy. Which he does today, actually, when I stray off track.

Although Nolan is usually, shall we say, antiseptic in his approach to romance, Oppenheimer represents a significant shift. He told Wired the love story aspect “is as strong as I’ve ever done”. It features prolonged full nudity for Murphy and Florence Pugh, who plays Oppenheimer’s ex-fiancee, as well as sex, and there are complicated scenes with Emily Blunt, who plays his wife, “that were pretty heavy”. Murphy turns coy: “I’m under strict instructions not to give away anything.”

He asks if I’ve heard of chemistry tests. “They put two actors in a room to see if there’s any spark, and have all the producers and director at a table watching. I don’t know what metric they use, and it seems so outrageously silly, but sometimes you get a chemistry and nobody knows why.” This is a roundabout way of saying his scenes with Blunt and Pugh conjure this magic. His established bond with Blunt (they co-starred in A Quiet Place II) meant “the audience gets something for free”, he says. “You can be immediately vulnerable and open, and try stuff. There were moments where I remember saying, ‘I couldn’t have done that if it wasn’t with you.’”

Murphy, 47, grew up the eldest of four in Cork. His father was a civil servant, his mother a French teacher. They were a middle-class family, musical; his father “can pick up any instrument”, his brother played piano, and they regularly got stuck into “traditional Irish sessions”. Bookshelves were stuffed with literature, the radio often on, the “shitty” TV set not so much. Home life was busy but his parents taught him French and Irish, and sent him to an all-boys academic, rugby-playing private school. “I got all the education” he says, drily.

The story of how much he disliked the Presentation Brothers College, the hard-drinking masculine emphasis, how he found solace playing guitar in a band, is much rehearsed and he says today he doesn’t want “to slag the school off. I hear it’s great now.” Something about this experience seems nonetheless unsettling. He had one friend, who is still his best friend, “so I wasn’t, like, an outcast”. He played rugby for the first couple of years, but abandoned it “because everyone was all of a sudden towering over me.” Was it an unhappy time? He shifts. “It was OK. I was a bit of a messer, like I’d get in trouble and say nothing. It wasn’t the ideal school for me.”

He enrolled in and dropped out of a law degree at University College Cork, which created some friction with his parents (when I ask if his own sons will go to university in Dublin, he says, “Whatever they want”). He continued with the band, his first creative love but the one that got away. When they were offered a contract with Acid Jazz records, he turned it down for a number of reasons, he says, crucially that he didn’t feel good enough. He still writes and plays at home but, no, you won’t be hearing any of his recordings, ever, he says.

It’s a funny thing talking to Murphy. He’s at once garrulous (on the craft, or literature, or ideas) and reticent (pretty much anything else). I sense in previous interviews that he skates over issues close to his heart – such as the expression of emotion in Ireland and the need to teach empathy in schools. But when I try to drill in to these topics, get to the root, he clams shut, emitting energy like a nuclear reactor.

Later, in a different context, he will tell me a truth: “I’m stubborn and lacking in confidence, which is a terrible combination. I don’t want to put anything out that I don’t think is excellent.” But he clearly hates the pantomime of publicity, asking why I am returning to certain topics and repeating lines I’ve read elsewhere. I can almost see him at home with its views towards the Irish Sea, complaining to his wife as they tuck into supper: “Another one, asking the same fucking questions.”

If he could get out of going to Cannes, of standing on red carpets, dressed as is his habit for a funeral, hair shellacked, hands in pockets; if he could turn his back on the coloured-foam mics thrust in his face, he would. He really would. No, it dawns on him now, there’s something even worse than the red carpet; there’s the talkshow rounds. The very word “talkshow” comes out of him like a pain from his ribcage, as if the parcelling out of amuse-bouche anecdotes, offering them up to the forced laughter of that false god of show business, the studio audience, is in itself the most cheapening experience known to mankind.

“I do them because you’re contractually obliged to. I just endure them. I’ve always found it difficult. I’ve said this so many, many times.” Then there’s the double wince of realising that, yes, he’s done it again. He’s laid into the industry that feeds him. His hands raise slowly in surrender. “I want to just caveat this by saying, I’m so privileged. I’m so happy to be doing what I love. I’m really lucky. But I don’t enjoy the personality side of being an actor. I don’t understand why I should be entertaining and scintillating on a talkshow. I don’t know why all of a sudden that’s expected of me. Why?”

There’s an awkward silence. I say that he reminds me of Naomi Osaka, the tennis player who refused to talk to journalists after the French Open in 2021. He says he feels “100%” sympathy with her, “because why should she have to perform?” Then he relents. “But I get it. I get it’s a kind of ecosystem where the film feeds the publicity which feeds the talkshows which goes back and feeds the film, so, like, that’s how it works. I suppose I’m just not good at it. At interviews, at this stuff,” he gestures at me. He says after he leaves me today he’ll be going down the stairs thinking of all the things he’s said and worrying it’s come across all wrong. “Do you know what Sam Beckett said? ‘I have no views to inter.’ I love that. That should be the interview.”

We return to his art, the tension falls away and he’s back to his charming self, charged air evaporating. Since Oppenheimer, he’s also wrapped Small Things Like These, an adaptation of Claire Keegan’s brilliant novella set in 1985 in a small Irish town on the edge of which is a convent and “laundry”. Murphy is a huge fan of Keegan. He remembers reading her 2010 novel Foster on a train and having to pull his hoodie over his face because he was crying so hard. Anyway, he’d wanted to work with the Peaky Blinders director Tim Mielants and they were throwing ideas around in his sitting room when Murphy’s wife suggested Small Things. “No, there’s no way,” Murphy said. “That’s going to be gone already.” But when he called the agent, he found it was available. “I went, ‘No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.’” Murphy pitched the idea to Matt Damon, who has set up a studio with Ben Affleck. “From there it all just happened really quickly.”

Murphy plays Bill Furlong who, funnily enough, is a man of few words. Keegan’s light-touch writing is everything he loves in art – the sense that you are not being bashed over the head by an idea. That’s how he tries to act, he adds. “I’m always trying to cut lines in scenes, because I feel like you can transmit it. Like when you see a person on a train thinking, or driving a car, and you are purely observing someone and feeling the energy that is vibrating from them. That’s the sort of acting I love. In a lot of film and television, they want to cut those bits to go to the action. I like films that pose the big questions and then leave it to the audience.” Perhaps this is at the heart of his reticence in interviews? That he doesn’t feel the need to explain.

He still finds it “nuts” that the last of the Magdalene laundries closed in 1996, that it was illegal to buy condoms in Ireland until 1985, that divorce was made legal only in 1996. He remembers vividly thousands of people still going to see moving statues in Cork when he was growing up. “Crazy. But, like, how far the country has come since then, we’re so socially advanced now compared with where we were. But you must look back. And art is a better way of doing that than reading all these reports [into the laundries].” (Afterwards, he emails me: “The nation is actually dealing with an unresolved collective trauma. Who knows how long this will take to heal, but I feel strongly that art, film and literature can help with that process. It’s a kinder and gentler sort of therapy. I hope that our movie can help with that in its own little way.”)

Because he’s a nice man, because he doesn’t want me to feel bad about our encounter, and because he’s generous and hospitable, Murphy finishes by telling me some of the best places to visit in Ireland. He and his family are staying here for the summer. They’ve had it with air travel and his home town of Cork is only a couple of hours away. He supplies me with other recommendations: a great book he’s just read, Brian, by Jeremy Cooper, oh, and there’s the Francis Bacon studio exhibition I should catch on my way out.

But before I go, what has he learned from playing Oppenheimer? Foremost, he says, that scientists think differently. He knew this already from playing physicist Robert Capa in Danny Boyle’s Sunshine (2007) and hanging out in Cern, home of the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, for research. “I had dinner with all these geniuses. I’ll never understand quantum mechanics, but I was interested in what science does to their perspective.” He sought their opinions on subjects that matter – love, politics, our place in the universe, “infinity, or whatever the fuck. Because they have a completely different way of taking in information than we do. I remember one scientist saying, ‘I don’t believe in love. It’s a biological phenomenon, the exchange of hormones between the female and the male. That’s all. Love is a nonsense.’” Murphy taps the table with his hand. “I couldn’t go along with that, obviously.”

[strawbubbysugar]

Hello there my good author, please feel free to use this ask as a prop to ramble about the ideas you have for So(u)l (or bethroned if you have any you want to talk about) /nf

Also hope your break has been wonderful so far! :D

Oh hehe ty!! And it has been, thank you!! It’s been a really nice break from writing (lying, has been roleplaying with my partner and writing a lil)

They aren’t very organized, but here are a few scattered thoughts

- taking some inspo from classic fnaf, dca is replaced by an animatronic mascot who’s lorded as being the “ultimate in ai”, truly a marvel, talks like a person! Etc etc, bc he’s got most of a real human brain in there and some of a human body, but it’s being controlled by electronics and engineering work. On the outside seems to be entirely robotic, but if you delve too deep into the robotics underneath the hood you reach lungs being artificially pumped with pistons, things like that. Imagining a scene where he gets stabbed through the chest and thinks he’s fine, insists he’s fine, but blood begins to drip from his chest. They think it’s oil at first

- he doesn’t know he used to be, or that he has any human pieces in him at all. Until the big zap, and not only does he get his string, but the *real* mind inside of him wakes up. The human body that they’re using as scaffolding for his AI.

- he’s mad, terrified, and a little bit crazy after having his mind moulded to produce a happy go lucky ray of Sunshine mascot character.

- the most upsetting part is that the AI is still there after the zap. Still functional. But really, Truly *awake* now. Forced to share a mind. Forced to realize what an abomination he/their shared body is, the pain he causes just by existing .

- y/ngineer is an engineer like before, but is tasked with working on superficial things like the mascot’s outer stuff and the arms and legs, and monitoring the AI’s progress. Forbidden to delve any deeper because of “NDA” rules. Can’t shake the feeling that they can hear this robot breathe.

- reason behind the creation of this robot for this company is to start a new empire (a la Disney), with real mascots that walk around rather than people in suits. They’ve got an entire amusement park that’s being built, and other robots in similar situations to the main character, with human bodies inside used as conduits, brains used as fodder

[madwomansapologist]

A&W | tamerlane usher & william 'bill-t' wilson

Navigation | More Tamerlane Usher | AO3

synopsis: You were the new girl. A play pretend, for Tamerlane Usher. A way to satisfy his wife, for Bill. They just couldn't predict you would be Tamerlane's clone. Or that you would do them so well. [3,6K]

warnings: smut. prostituition. threesome. voyeurism. masturbation. p in v. cream pie. oral. fingering. tw: use of 'good boy' and 'so fucking pretty'. dom!tamerlane. switch!reader. female!reader. reader is described to look alike tamerlane.

Tamerlane Usher expected to see a new, different face when she opened her front door. "Sorry for being late," you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. With a delicate smile, you reached out to her. "You may call me Love."

But all Tammy saw was herself.

It was like facing a mirror. You weren't a clone, there were enough different traits and details for her to be sure of it, but you looked like another version of Tamerlane. Like someone's blurred memory of her.

Your hair was a little bit longer, but it was the same color and texture as hers. Your eyelashes were a little bit ticker, but your eyes shone in the same tone as hers. Your smile was beaming and unapolagetic, but your lips were exactly like hers. So different, and yet so similar.

Tamerlane thought about how she so easily can forget someone's face. How sometimes imagination take place over memory. She imagined if anyone ever thought about her, but only pictured you. Would Bill ever do that? After this night, would he think about Tammy and see her copycat instead?

"Love?" Tamerlane licked her lips, a smirk growing slowly on her face. She didn't touch your hand, just gave you space to enter. "We thought you had changed your mind."

After the Goldbug launch, the last girl warned she was moving to another city. Tamerlane couldn't just hire anyone. First: she has standarts. Second: she has a reputation. It took her sometime to find someone, and for those past few weeks she felt starved.

She was so relieved when the last girl told about you. After discussing with you through e-mail, Tammy knew you were open to most of her desires. Then it came the NDAs, blood tests, creation of a new bank account. And Pym's research about you.

When he called her 4am to only say you were clean, Tamerlane almost felt like herself again.

"I would never," you said as your followed Tammy. "The last girl send me the wrong address."

It was difficult to not look at yourself through any of the mirrors there. Althought, maybe you could just look at Tamerlane. She is your distorced mirror.

After she gave you the envelope with the payment, a man came out of the kitchen with a bowl of salad. And his face certainty weren't new for you.

Of course you knew who Tamerlane Usher was. It feels impossible to try to survive without bumping into something owened by a Usher or their partners. You knew her name, her brand, but not her face. As any smart rich person, she went out of her away to not be famous.

Maybe you could pass by Roderick Usher and not realize who he was. Madeline could be right behind you and you would never noticed. But that would never happened with William "Bill" Wilson.

His face is everywhere. Sometimes it feels like it's stalking you. So many products, banners, commercials. It's impossible to use Tik Tok and never had seen at least a second of his classes. Either because of his knowledge about health or how no one can understand how he is able to smile while working out, people know Bill.

Bill is the face of Tamerlane's empire.

And here was him, serving the table.

Everything smelled so good. And also looked so delicious. Even the salad. Distracted by the food, it took you a second to notice the mesmerized look on his face.

"Your hair," Bill murmured. He sounded uncomfortable. Almost ofended. He glared at Tamerlane. "You chose that wig?"

You reached out to him already expecting to be ignored as when you did the same with Tamerlane. "Hello, Bill. I'm Love," it surprised you when he grabbed your hand.

It was a stiff, reservated movement. But you still feel like he saw you as more than the thing that will spicy the night. Like when you act as polite as you can with an worker because you want be sure that they will understand you see them as human beings. The quick gest carried some sort of companionship.

You both are working for Tamerlane tonight.

"That's my hair..." You touched a strand of it, twirling it on your hand. You tried to sound unsure, insecure. "You don't like it?"

Bill hesitated. Normally they ask Tamerlane if she liked what they chose, not him. Those girls could make him bleed and they would still ask Tamerlane if they should keep going. It never is about him, Bill don't want it to be about him, so why bother? But you held your gaze on him, waiting for an opinion, and so he had to came up with one.

"Is just that," it was almost a whisper. Bill put his hands behind his back, and for a second ignored your gaze by looking at Tammy. "You both are identicals."

"I don't think so," you said, touching your lips lightly. By his tone, you couldn't say if it was a good or a bad thing for him. You turned to Tammy, who was pushing a chair for her, and then went back to Bill's eyes. Your smirk surprised him. "My clothes are cheaper."

That made them smile. You unbuttoned your black coat, and Bill took it from your hands. Even from behind, you could feel him staring at you. Staring at your emerald dress.

Tamerlane, already sat on her chair, saw you giving her a little spin. That made her breathe in. She could already feel her womb warming up.

You both were matching.

"I thought we should start with dinner. Let's do a celebration, maybe a birthday. Just eat, drink, enjoy one another. Do you drink wine? Good. We'll talk about the rest later."

Bill pulled your chair. You sat at the beginning of the table, and held his hand before Bill could get away from you. Carressing it, you felt the warmth of his skin. "I'm so, so sorry for being late," you whispered. "I really am."

"That's fine," Bill finally said after a few seconds of silence.

"I can see you worked a lot. Everything looks amazing." You put your head in between your hands, watching Bill sitting beside you. "I love when you cook for me. It makes me feel like I'm part of a team. Our team."

Unsure of how to proceed, Bill looked at Tamerlane. He waited for instructions, maybe just as controled by Tamerlane as you. Her eyes were approving, so he turned back to you with more confidence.

Bill think it's so funny how he was turned into a puppet by her hands. Who would imagine that he would ever bend like that? Love really fucks people up. At least his love for Tamerlane did fucked him up.

He would do anything for her. Anything to keep her. Including this. If she needs that, so be it.

"I feel the same," and Bill really wasn't lying. He just wasn't. "Makes me feel part of something."

Tamerlane slid against her chair, intrigued by how this was going.

You grabbed his hand, and he carressed yours. "We against the world, right?"

Bill smiled. "Always."

You knew he was beautiful, who could ignore that fact, but he was so much prettier from up close. So sweet. For a moment you just watched him, and you also felt like he was watching you.

"I almost forgot," you walked to where he put your coat and searched for something on the pockets. "The real reason why I'm late."

You came back with a white, tiny box in your hands. You settled it in front of Bill, and took a bite from the plate he made for you. "Perfect, as always," you licked your lips and tapped the box twice. "C'mon. I want to see your reaction."

He took it on his hands, feeling how light the box was. When he opened it, he saw a hand watch. "Did you liked it? It's so difficult to gift someone. What can I give to someone that can have anything? There are so many things that can go wrong. If you didn't, I can just..."

"I loved it," Bill stopped you. "But I don't have anything for you."

You took it from his hands, and opened to put it around his fist. "You don't need to." Your hands stayed against his forearm, strucking it lightly. "You're more than enough to make me happy."

Tamerlane was already dripping.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Tamerlane told you both to wait while she made sure everything was ready and set. You finished your glass of wine, the only one you drank that night, and got distracted observing the room for long enough to forget you weren't alone.

What remind you of that was noise coming from the kitchen.

You walked slowly, so carefully that Bill didn't even saw you. But you saw him. He bend over the sink, searching for something that looked like a medicine box, murmuring something to himself. And when he found, you recognized the blue pill on his hand.

"That just broke my heart, big boy." The way Bill got startled made you smirk. "I'm not pretty enough for you?"

Alone, you could see how he was more relaxed. Maybe calmer. Near his wife, Bill needs to lie. Near you, he don't need to. Even thought you know that this dinner wasn't entirely a play pretend, it was still one.

"You're not the problem," he murmured.

"Then what is the problem?" You whispered, stepping closer to him. "Don't tell me you gonna fuck a woman for your wife and not even enjoy it?"

"That way is easier for the both of us," Bill whispered, mirroring you. "None of us wants to be here, let's just get it done already."

You held his hand before he could put the pill on his mouth. "You think I don't want to be here?" You got even closer. "That I don't want to be near you?"

Bill didn't knew what to say. He just agreed.

"I can't wait to make you feel good. To make sure you won't have time to think those stupid thoughts. You won't worry about anything else." Carressing his chest, you felt how stiff he really was. How nervous and uncomfortable that whole night has been for him. What a shame. A man as pretty as him don't deserve to ever feel that way. "Because that's what I do. That's what I love to do."

Your hands massaged his shoulders, then his forearms. "So tense," you grabbed Bill's hands and kissed his knuckles. Not even once you looked away from him. "You can pretend I'm her."

Calmly, you slid your fingers against his. Just playing with his skin, letting goosebumps on him. "I won't be ofended. If it's easier for you. It's easier for her, that I know."

Bill whimpered, and you never before wanted so bad to break someone. To take this mask Bill use, his all put together way, and smash it against the ground. To see him wide, unapolagetic.

You bite lightly his middle finger, just to mess with him, before you straighned up your posture. "I promise not to say a damn thing. If it makes it easier. All you need to do is to closer your eyes."

Tamerlane's heels made you look away, but you kept on holding his hand. "Can you do that for me, big boy?" You turned back to him, a ghost of a smile appearing on your face. "Can you fuck me like I'm yours?"

"Everything alright over here?" Tamerlane announced herself.

You blinked at Bill before turning to her. You gave Tammy another beaming smile.

You followed her to the bedroom, the tension rising. You could feel Bill watching you, his gaze burning your back. When Tamerlane locked the door, you took a deep breath.

"Since it's our first time, let's start slowly," Tamerlane walked toward her armchair. "Bill, help her take off her dress. I want you both to kiss, it don't need to be romantic, and then lie on bed with her on top. We'll see how it goes."

You stepped towards Bill. "You like when I wear green?"

"Yes, I do." Bill was more eager to answer this time. Maybe it has something to do with the way you made him unable to look away while you followed Tamerlane.

"I like it better when I'm wearing nothing. And you?"

Tamerlane unbuttoned her pants, unable to look away. This was... different. No one ever bothered to talk. To continue this act no matter what happens. She was salivating.

Bill held your waist, and he did so with force. You felt fingers brush against your ribs, moving up to brush against your breasts, squeezing the flesh of your waist. His gaze alone seemed capable of tearing your dress.

You turned around, and Bill pulled you against him. That felt so right. You took a deep breath, holding his hand against your body. You rubbed against him, feeling him through his pants, and smiled victoriously.

“The zipper,” you whispered.

Bill opened it calmly, noticing every inch of exposed skin, his finger brushing against your back. The dress fell off. You stepped out of it, and kicked it towards Tamerlane.

She smirked.

You were fun.

Which meant she was fun.

Bill grabbed your waist again, but without the dress the touch felt so new. You both just kept like that, as if it was a normal thing for the both of you, until you chose to turned around. You knew you were putting on a little show for the both of them.

“Kiss me,” you commanded. As if it was you the one ordering that. As if it was your idea, not Tammy's. As if you were her. You promised Bill to make him believe you were Tamerlane. You always keep your promises. "Now."

And Bill did as you wanted him to. As you ordered him to.

It was raw. Famine. You felt like Bill was trying to taste your soul. To hold onto it and never let it go. Bill kissed you like he was a starved man, and you accept him like a sheep waiting to be sacrified. And still, you weren't a sheep. You couldn't be one. Not if you want him to see you as Tamerlane.

Tamerlane is a wolf.

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt, not bothering to be gentle. You held him like Bill was yours, which meant that for tonight he would be. You pushed him, causing Bill to stumble back. He gasped, just like Tamerlane.

"Sit down," you demanded.

Bill couldn't think straight, his mind confused from the wine and the desire for more, so you pushed him hard. He fell onto the bed, staring at you from below as if you were a sight he had never seen before. "Is it so difficult to obey me?"

He shook his head. "No," he felt the need to repeat.

If you were Tamerlane, he would never be so needy. You would satisfy him whenever you could. But you can understand her side. There's nothing as beautiful as a giant man smelling like desire.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered. This time he obeyed. As Bill threw his shirt away, you caressed his chest. So much more delicate than the push, so much more certain than the provocations exchanged in the kitchen. "Good boy."

You sat on his lap, and carefully laid him on the bed. You nibbled his lip, licked his thick neck, scratched his pecs. You slid your hand down his pants, knowing well that Bill was looking at your exposed intimacy, and felt his dick. Getting hard.

Even with tissue separating your skin from his, you knew he was big. That made you drool.

Tamerlane had already thrown her pants away. Her shirt was unbuttoned, her bra lost on the floor. She continued to wear her panties, just because she liked the feeling of them rubbing against her hand.

You grabbed Bill's hand and placed it on your waist. "Squeeze," and he did. His hands roamed your body, and you began to rub yourself against his growing bulge.

You opened his pant, and smirked when you saw his cock. "Say please," you hissed.

Bill swallowed. He squeezed you, his nail digging into your skin, but it was a good pain. "Pretty please," that made you want to get him inside your mouth. Make him melt against your tongue, choke on him until your eye burns, let him occupy your mouth for the rest of the night. But Tamerlane said you were supposed to be on top of him, and you weren't going to disobey her.

You sliding your hand up and down, and saw as Bill closed his eyes. You pushed your thumb against a vein, following it until his most sensitive point. And Bill was indeed sensitive. How long has been since he was last worshiped?

"Tammy," Bill moaned. And when he did it, Tammy let a whimper escape her throat. You stopped breathing, filled with a sense of pride. Bill whispered sweet nothing, chills went down your spine.

When you took him inside you, inch by inch, Bill shuddered. He grabbed your body, scratched your skin, moaned Tamerlane's name. You squeezed your walls, and you saw when Bill lost control. When it was too good to think.

You didn't look at Tamerlane. You could feel her gaze burning you, you knew you only had to look in any of the mirrors to see her, but you didn't dare. You only heard the moans, the wet sounds that her pussy made. That added to Bill inside you almost made you lose control.

Almost, because you wanted them to lose it sooner.

Bouncing on his dick, Bill spread his thick muscular legs. You were surprised when he lifted his torso, pulling your body close, but his mouth against yours silenced any exclamations from you.

Bill held his back, and without any effort he changed the position. Him on top, your legs pinning him against you, his forearms resting on the bed. That kiss was more than anything. He devoured you. And he did it so well you didn't even remember that you were supossed to be on top of him.

Tamerlane also forgot about that.

She just imagined herself in your place. She imagined herself commanding, demanding, mocking him. Tamerlane imagined herself making him feel so good that she would need to remind him to touch her, to look at her, to breathe. And then Tamerlane found herself being overpowered. Being thrown on the bed because Bill felt so much pleasure that he simply needed more, he needed everything she could give him, he needed it even if it meant disobeying her.

And when Bill whimpered Love, when he moaned your name while fucking you so good, she imagine herself between you both. She imagined her fingers deep into you, feeling how warm and wet he made you for her. Tamerlane imagined Bill kissing her the way he did to you, with your hands tucking on her hair.

Bill brushed the hair out of your face. "So fucking pretty," he murmured against her mouth. You opened your eyes, your mouth turning in a soft smile, and you felt tears forming on your eyelid. Bill was even better than you imagined. "You're mine," he growled. "So fucking mine."

His digits found a home in your pussy, spreading your arousal against your clit. Your nails entered his skin, and with a little more force you would be able to make him bleed. And it was at that moment that Bill came apart inside you.

He filled you, made you complete, all while moaning against your face. You trapped him with your legs, leaving him even deeper inside you, and only then did you have the courage to look at her.

Tamerlane couldn't keep her eyes open. Couldn't see it. She felt so good, so soft, so on the edge of an orgasm that she couldn't control her body. Her arm burned, her fingers curled over her clit, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't do anything but continue.

So when she felt a soft tongue against her pussy, the moan sounded too much like a scream. But she opened her eyes, saw you kneeling, looking at her with so much desire, and thought of nothing but to continue. As well as letting you lick up every drop of her. Letting you make her feel as good as you made Bill just a few seconds ago.

Tamerlane imagined his cum dripping down your legs. She looked up, and saw Bill recovering on the bed. She saw his smile, the way he looked deep into her eyes. And she saw that he was happy. Really happy.

Tamerlane squeezed her hair, guiding your tongue tightly against her. She replaced her fingers with yours, and in no time Tamerlane came looking right into Bill's eyes.

He was hard. Again. Sitting on him, your back against Bill's sweaty chest, he fucked you deliciously. Again. Tamerlane licked your breasts, bit your nipples, rubbed her hand against your pussy in such a dirty way. Such a good way.

Embraced by them, you felt so right. Like you were at the exactly place you should be. Like everything in your life led you towards them. Or maybe it was just the second orgams coming.

When Tamerlane woke up later that same morning, the first thing she saw was you between them both. Bill sleeping peacefully, hugging you from behind with his hand resting on Tamerlane's tight.

And she just went back to sleep.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[bugcowboyart]

Daggerheart NDA is over! Here’s my boy from the character creation playtest— Perseverance of Vigarten. (Y’all I will take ANY excuse to design a new TTRPG character and Daggerheart character creation is FUN)

They are a Highborne Faerie Wizard, school of Knowledge. He embroiders his spells into long strips of fabric (and sometimes his own clothing when space is tight)! Can’t wait to take him for a spin.

[shithowdy]

So question I must know: what’s the deal with Fallout AU Chadley and his spawn? I need to know this because of reasons.

An exercise in how mean I can be to a character, apparently. 💀

This Chadley pursued a career in cancer genome research with a focus on colorectal carcinoma, which took his mother's life when he was 12. He partnered with a private research group for a while until it was absorbed by a company called Mimir Syndicate after a very weird acquisition process that involved a lot of psychological evaluations on the researchers and signing of contracts that were functionally super-NDAs; his only options were to remain under contract and attempt to continue his work or leave and be barred from continuing anything in that particular career path for the rest of his life due to his work being their "intellectual property".

After agreeing to remain, he and about 50 other scientists (from his own team and other new ones) alongside their spouses and children, plus some other operative staff, were relocated to an underground facility in another city entirely under the assurance that it was for "their protection" with an increasing risk of spies. He was unable to inform his father of this move before it became evident that none of them were able to leave-- they were not even informed when the world outside had been set ablaze.

This ended up being one of Mimir's own vault projects, a psyker development program overseen by robots that were both remotely operated by executives and also a default AI. The purpose was to use the researchers' own genetic material as the baseline for the project, while all the staff and families would keep the population consistent enough for the project to continue until viable. Except this was a terrible idea for a hundred reasons and several people rebelled instantly, ended their lives when they discovered what had happened above, and basically everything that can be expected to go wrong when people are imprisoned and told they are going to now be part of what's basically a horrifying mutant eugenics project.

The executives vanished from the command system (because of nuclear war lol), leaving only the AI to handle protocol for what to do with the remaining people, and in an attempt to preserve the project they put the remaining 30 or so researchers into cryogenic stasis for routinely cycled resuscitation, one at a time, so they would be unable to easily communicate with one another but still continue the project where a human hand (and genetic material) was actually required. What followed was a nightmarish 190ish years of being in and out of consciousness for only a few months at a time, watching mutant creations made from your own flesh and blood (and other spliced things, like fungi) be created and die in what feels like a flash, growing increasingly more disoriented and sick from a process that should really only happen once... but still plotting with the others in secret through hidden notes for a way to terminate the entire system.

And eventually it worked. About 10 years before the story begins, he finally manages to set off what was functionally a homemade EMP by the the remaining team in the room housing the stasis pods, killing his companions. With alarms blaring he records a final log of what happened there before taking his own life with a cocktail of surgical drugs, leaving the AI with nothing but only what material remained and no humans to actually guide the project. It took about ten more years for the whole thing to unravel completely, allowing ample opportunity for at least one of the more clever mutants to escape through an old breach left by raiders terminated by the AI.

He only had fleeting interactions with Emil, though notably with a hint of both horror and pride as he had to make the recommendation to continue following this specific blueprint, because finally one was stable. Cognizant. None of them have said they were scared of the scalpel before. God help him.

[lover-of-mine]

as much as I hate the cameo's for the amount of ammo they gave, i'm also still obsessed with just the sheer amount of bts info on the creation of s7 we got from them.....which is why im sure there is a disney iron clad NDA on that man

That man is in an mcu level NDA. Not only did he spoil stuff, he made a profit while doing it. If he is back, his contract is iron clad to protect production.

[yakool-foolio]

Idk if anyone actually talked about this but this has been on my mind lately

Lets recap for a bit: Yakou died back in chapter 4 because his soul was reaped in the Mystery Labyrinth, being revealed as Doctor Huesca's killer.

In Yakou's DLC, we see his wife's ghost give him the badge with the cell regenerating pill, right? But what really bothered me is how Yakou's gonna come back IF he took the pill.

Let's say the pill ends up working and Yakou comes back. But his soul was reaped in the Mystery Labyrinth, Wouldn't there be nothing of him? Would his Homunculus soul get resurrected? Would it create a new soul with the memories of his human self as its base? Or would Homunculus Yakou's body just be an undead being living without a soul?

There's a lot left unanswered with how the homunculi would be revived. However, there is some groundwork that can be laid out to at least form some paths that could be explored.

I think I have a pretty confident answer to your first query about the reaped souls. The reaping doesn't meant that the soul, and therefore the person, ceases to exist. I believe it's just a fancier way of dying 'naturally.' If the soul of a human were to be reaped, the soul would separate from the physical body, but wouldn't be completely destroyed. Shinigami actually chooses careful wording by saying that while the Mystery Labyrinth may be destroyed, the soul isn't. The body 'perishes.' She mentions nothing about the soul being erased.

As ya might have noticed, I specified that this is what would happen for humans, not homunculi. However, the reaping of a homunculus' soul may not be as complicated as it looks. This is entering speculation territory, but I have a bite of evidence to sink your teeth into! I theorize that when the soul of a homunculus is reaped, the body goes through the normal process of death. The soul is separated, and the body is now empty. However, when the imperfect revival state begins after several hours, the soul of the homunculus boomerangs right back into the now-zombified body. If the soul were to be destroyed, and the zombies were simply empty husks, then how would the zombies have any of their memories? A soul should most likely contain all memories. Hitman Zilch is able to recall his work with Yomi, although spotty due to the deterioration of the brain that the soul is reconnected to. Yakou gets flashes of photographic memories of his detectives, can recite Yuma's name, and recognizes his wife. They still have souls in them, but the decayed body and mind burns through some or many of those memories.

So now we arrive at the question of what would happen if a zombified homunculus were to be revived with the finished creation of the work-in-progress regenerative pill Yakou's wife worked on. This could go in several directions, but I'll stick to discussing the most notable ideas.

The least painful road to walk on is that if a zombie is revived, their brains are fully healed, and they are able to keep all their memories up to their death, so nothing is lost. That's pretty much the happiest ending. The narrative decision to write that would mean it needs some serious right to earn that ending, and I think I could at least provide a start to that in order to get Yakou back in perfect condition. Yakou loves and protects Kanai Ward, so he's selfless toward his fellow citizens. It'd be very in-character if the zombified Yakou made sure that all the other zombies were revived before himself. Their lives are more important than his. So in the end, once everyone else is revived, Yakou is rightfully rewarded for this selflessness by regaining all his memories.

The more bittersweet route is that the revived homunculi's memories are reset back to when they were first created, so they still have their human counterparts' memories, but nothing that belongs to them. In Yakou's case, that means he'd have no memories of the NDA detectives or the truth behind his wife's death. It's sad, but it's a very plausible outcome.

A somewhat similar, but possibly not as upsetting choice is that Yakou has a bunch of holes in his memories. He can remember some things perfectly, and some things he can't recall no matter how hard he tries. So there's a chance he could remember the detectives, but not remember anything about going through his Huesca murder scheme. Could have humorous results. I'll take a silly ending any day!

[disneytva]

"A Piece Of My Mind" Short Series Showcase Disney Television Animation Creators And Their Characters Together.

Natasha Kline and Primos inaugurate Disney TVA's new short form series "A Piece of My Mind", in the series premiere short centered on Primos, Tater meets Kline where she showcases Tater how growing up with her multi-cultural chicano family influenced Primos.

"A Piece of My Mind" is a 4th-wall breaking series of shorts showcasing Disney Television Animation creators talking with their creations and showcasing them their main inspirations for their shows. "A Piece of My Mind" is Executive Produced by Gino Guzzardo and Benjamin Siemon.

Other “A Piece of My Mind” shorts centered around Aliki Theofilopoulous with Zombies: The Re-Animated Series, Ryan Gillis with StuGo, Dan Povenmire, Jeff “Swampy” Marsh with Phineas And Ferb and Hamster & Gretel, Nic Smal, Lucy Heavens with Kiff and a "NDA - Disney Channel series", Noah Z. Jones with a "NDA - Disney Channel series" and The Houghton Brothers with Big City Greens are being planned.