Mr. Flanagan, I’d like to ask a question and I deeply hope that it does not offend or upset you. I am strongly considering canceling my Netflix subscription due to their new password sharing policy. However, Midnight Mass is one of my favorite shows of all time and I know it isn’t available on DVD, and I’m also profoundly anticipating your take on my favorite Edgar Allen Poe story. So I wanted to ask your take on people accessing your work through, uh, other means. If it’s something that’s offensive to you or will harm you or the other people who work so hard on these shows, I’ll happily keep my Netflix just so that I can keep supporting your work. I respect you far too much as an artist to do otherwise.
Again, I really hope I’m not upsetting you by asking this question. Thank you for everything, and I hope you’re having a great day!
(NOTE 6/4/2024: I'm editing this entry because, well over a year since it was posted, some journalists dug this up and used it to create click-bait headlines that are misleading, out of context and artificially combative.
While I was of course disappointed over the years that Netflix opted not to release my work on physical media, I never experienced any hostility or aggression in those discussions, and I sincerely regret the manner in which this post was used in the press this week.)
Hi there - no offense taken whatsoever, in fact I think this is a very interesting and important question.
So. If you asked me this a few years ago, I would have said "I hate piracy and it is hurting creators, especially in the independent space." I used to get in Facebook arguments with fans early in my career when people would post about seeing my work on torrent sites, especially when that work was readily available for rent and purchase on VOD.
Back in 2014, my movie Before I Wake was pirated and leaked prior to any domestic release, and that was devastating to the project. It actually made it harder to find distribution for the film. By the time we were able to get distribution in the US, the film had already been so exposed online that the best we could hope for was a Netflix release. Netflix stepped in and saved that movie, and for that I will always be grateful to them.
However...
Working in streaming for the past few years has made me reconsider my position on piracy.
In the years I worked at Netflix, I tried very hard to get them to release my work on blu-ray and DVD.
It became clear very fast that their priority was subscriptions, and that they were not particularly interested in physical media releases of their originals, with a few exceptions.
While companies like Netflix pride themselves on being disruptors, and have proven that they can affect great change in the industry, they sometimes fail to see the difference between disruption and damage. So much that they can find themselves, intentionally or not, doing harm to the concept of film preservation.
The danger comes when a title is only available on one platform, and then - for whatever reason - is removed.
We have already seen this happen. And it is only going to happen more and more. Titles exclusively available on streaming services have essentially been erased from the world. If those titles existed on the marketplace on physical media, like HBO's Westworld, the loss is somewhat mitigated (though only somewhat.) But when titles do not exist elsewhere, they are potentially gone forever.
The list of titles that have been removed from streaming services is growing.
I still believe that where we put our dollars matters. Renting or buying a piece of work that you like is essential. It is casting a vote, encouraging studios - who only speak the language of money - to invest more effort into similar work. If we show up to support distinct, unique, exciting work, it encourages them to make more of it. It's as simple as that. If we don't show up, or if they can't hear our voice because we are casing our vote "silently" through torrent sites or other means - it makes it unlikely that they will take a chance to create that kind of work again.
Which is why I typically suggest that if you like a movie you've seen through - uh - other means, throw a few dollars at that title on a legitimate platform. Rent it. Purchase it. Support it.
But if some studios offer no avenue for that kind of support, and can (and will) remove content from their platform forever... frankly, I think that changes the rules.
Netflix will likely never release the work I created for them on physical media, though I'll always hold out hope.
Some of you may say "wait, aren't The Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor available on blu-ray and DVD?" Yes, they are, because they were co-produced with Paramount, and I'm grateful that Paramount was able to release and protect those titles. (I'm also grateful that those releases include extended cuts, deleted scenes, and commentary tracks. There are a number of fantastic benefits to physical media releases.)
But a lot of the other work I did there are Netflix originals, without any other studio involvement. Those titles - like Midnight Mass, The Midnight Club, and the upcoming Fall of the House of Usher - along with my Netflix exclusive and/or original movies Before I Wake and Gerald's Game - have no such protections. The physical media releases of those titles are entirely at Netflix's discretion, and don't appear to be priority for the studio at this time.
At the moment, Netflix seems content to leave Before I Wake, Gerald's Game, Midnight Mass, and The Midnight Club on the service, where they still draw audiences. I don't think there is a plan to remove any of them anytime soon. But plans change, the industry changes.
The point is things change, and each of those titles - should they be removed from the service for any reason - are not available anywhere else. If that day comes - if Netflix's servers are destroyed, if a meteor hits the building, if they are bought out by a competitor and their library is liquidated - I don't know what the circumstances might be, I just know that if that day comes, some of the work that means the most to me in the world would be entirely erased.
Or, what if we aren't so catastrophic in our thinking? What if it the change isn't so total? What if Netflix simply bumps into an issue with the license they paid for music (like the Neil Diamond songs that play such a crucial role in Midnight Mass), and decide to leave the show up but replace the songs?
This has happened before as well - fans of Northern Exposure can get the show on DVD and blu-ray, but the music they heard when the series aired has been replaced due to the licensing issues. And the replacements - chosen for their low cost, not for creative reasons - are not improvements. What if the shows are just changed, and not by creatives, but by business affairs executives?
All to say that physical media is critically important. Having redundancy in the marketplace is critically important. The more platforms a piece of work is available on, the more likely it is to survive and grow its audience.
As for Netflix, I hope sincerely that their thinking on this issue evolves, and that they value the content they spend so much money creating enough to protect it for posterity. That's up to them, it's their studio, it's their rules. But I like to think they may see that light eventually, and realize that exclusivity in a certain window is very cool... but exclusivity in perpetuity could potentially limit the audience and endanger the work itself.
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primero llegó verstappen l MV1
a/n: MONACO by Bad Bunny. that's it that's the tweet. this isn't very long and its all over the place but I hope you like it <3
summary: Suddenly, Max isn't annoyed about being featured in a music video.
Max couldn't stop staring at himself in the mirror of a tent full of outfits, cameras and people moving from one place to another. In his mind he already did enough promo for the team, more than enough after being crowned World Champion for the third time and a huge contributor to the comfortable win of the Constructors Championship as well.
Maybe appearing in a music video was where he draw the line?
He wouldn't have an issue if it was him on his fireproofs doing a couple of laps in some closed circuits, maybe even some hot laps, but having to pose next to his RB19, wearing a faux leather jacket and showing one of his TAG Heuer Monaco Titan, because he was a walking billboard, was a little too much on his books, especially as a make up artist mixed different shades of some foundation, and Max was trying really hard not to take offense after he told him "his dark circles were incredibly hard to conceal".
Here he was doing favors and in return was being offended by his lack of sleep and naturally pale complexion.
He almost laughed after noticing Checo staring at himself in the mirror, the same confused and uncomfortable look on his face, and the same tight jacket as they contemplated the marina from above.
In conclusion, yes, this was well above his paycheck. Max also wouldn't deny he didn't thrill on the presence of paparazzi in quiet Monaco. granted, they were looking for the big star who was doing some shots around the city, walking hand in hand with his model girlfriend, but he could still make out some yelling for him and Checo.
Then, his day took a turn.
Some crew members wearing headphones and what he assumed were the assistants approached him and Checo, telling them this wouldn't take long since all they had to do was walk around the car, get in and out of the car, with and without the helmet, all while blasting the song.
A very catchy and good song that mentioned he was the first one to cross the finish line. At least he couldn't complain about that.
But he was internally complaining when, once again, he found himself on the make up chair with the same make up artist who had a problem with his dark circles, but this time the place was much different.
A sharp suit and this time a heavy Patek Philippe on his wrist as he walked inside the Casino of Monte Carlo. Now he was greeted by Bad Bunny himself, who thanked him many many times for being a part of this, and in return Max thanked him for even thinking of him for his song. They fell into a comfortable conversations about cars when the singer motioned for two girls to come over, one Max recognized as Kendall Jenner, the other he didn't know but was eager to.
"Max, this is mi novia, Kendall, and this is her friend (y/n). They're doing some stuff on the background, don't they look incredible?"
Max swore the designer dress you were wearing was painted on you, because there was no way it could fit so perfectly on your body, with a couple of stray hairs adorning your face and long eyelashes accentuating your eyes.
"It's so nice to meet you, I'm such a big fan of motorsport," you stretched your hand and it caught Max off guard, not really knowing what to do.
So he panicked and gave you a weird handshake before lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a kiss, and he had never felt more like a creep, but he noticed you blushing and a giggle leaving your lips.
You wanted to add something when the crew called everyone to start shooting, Benito and Kendall leading the way, and the only thing Max thought of doing was to offer you his arm which you gladly accepted.
The song was blasting as everyone pretended to talk and surround the roulette, but you and Max weren't pretending to laugh or to talk.
He even left Checo by himself, he'd forgive him eventually.
"I'm pretty sure the camera is on us in this moment," you told him through gritted teeth, trying to keep a perfect smile.
"What should we do?" Max asked, trying to hide his smile while doing his best to give you his best seductive stare.
You knew he was flirting with you and it was surprising. After seeing him on screens and social media you figured he'd be cocky, not having any trouble flirting with women every weekend on different countries, figuring out a way with foreign languages, but you never pictured him as a giddy, easily flushed, good for banter man, and the only thing you wanted was to leave this shoot and have him show you the city, dressed to the nines and maybe pretending to be cold in the end so he could put his jacket over your shoulders, and that way you could see him with just a white shirt and undone tie.
But you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, especially when you heard the director yell cut and tell you and Max to pay attention to the instructions, earning you the glare of everyone in the room.
"Ey, cabrón, que se están enamorando, déjalos solos!" Hey, they're falling in love, leave them alone. Those were Benito's words.
And God, was he right.
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Snippets from the super serious and evil communication array shared by the super serious and evil Black Water Sinking Ships and Crimson Rain Sought Flower
Aka He Xuan and Hua Cheng's groupchat
In no particular order, contains spoilers
---
Hua Cheng: "Did you find him yet?"
He Xuan: "No."
Hua Cheng: "I'm increasing your debt 5% with every day you dont find him."
---
Hua Cheng: "He Xuan stop digging tunnels to hide from me, where's your monthly payment?"
He Xuan: "I dont know, Hua Cheng, where's the Crown Prince of Xianle?"
---
Hua Cheng: "XuanXuan i need a favor."
He Xuan: "No. Die."
Hua Cheng: "Im already dead. And youre indebted to me, so..."
---
He Xuan: "You ran out of snacks and wine so tell Yin Yu to get some more. Also the Crown Prince of Xianle ascended."
Hua Cheng: "HE ASCENDED??? AGAIN???"
He Xuan: "Yeah. Dont forget about the snacks though."
---
He Xuan: full offense showing up as the crown prince of xianle's ghost groom is corny as hell
Hua Cheng: show me where i asked
He Xuan: when i helped pick your outfit???
---
During the Banyue arc:
He Xuan: "Do you really have to wear that fuck ass ponytail?"
Hua Cheng: "Do you really have to disguise yourself as a woman with huge tits?"
---
Hua Cheng: "He Xuan where the hell are you?!"
He Xuan: "Eating."
Hua Cheng: "And when are you getting here?!"
He Xuan: "After im done eating."
---
He Xuan: "How the fuck could you afford 3000 lanterns???"
Hua Cheng: "Not from collecting your debt, thats for sure."
---
Hua Cheng: "He Xuan if you ever put his highness in danger again im going to gut you like your fish."
He Xuan: "My fish dont have any guts."
Hua Cheng: "Precisely."
He Xuan: "Duly noted."
---
Hua Cheng: "I told you beating you up like that would sell the story!"
He Xuan: "A little too well. That was personal."
---
Hua Cheng: I KISSED HIM!
He Xuan: congrats
Hua Cheng: you could at least PRETEND to be excited
He Xuan: its been 800 years HuaHua, im tired.
---
He Xuan: so did you hit?
Hua Cheng: what the fuck, blackwater, thats so disrespectful to even think, let alone say, i should kill you for even-
He Xuan: so yes
Hua Cheng:...yeah
---
He Xuan: DID YOU JUST FUCKING DIE???
Hua Cheng: yes but also no, see you in like a year. You still gotta pay back the debt though
He Xuan: i hope you stay dead
---
Hua Cheng: i will find your ashes and disperse you into a chamber pot
He Xuan: you should be grateful you get to share a small enclosed space with the crown prince of xianle. Im offering you a romance trope on a silver plate.
Hua Cheng: in a coffin??
He Xuan: i took artistic liberties
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Take a Break - Wade Wilson
tags: video games, mini contests, sex repulsion, Sex Repulsed Wade Wilson, teasing, a litttle dry humping, serious discussion abt sex repulsion, domestic shit, cutesy PDA, consolation
wc: 2.2k
synopsis: Wade has to say something. [part three of marathon s-e-x; part one / part two]
a/n: I originally wrote this as like a third marathon piece but one of my favorite artists (fuzzyaya on twitter) reminded me that Wade Wilson doesn't have a super high sex drive, so I ran with that instead.
You reared on Wade's lap, moving the controller up to shield his view of the television. His arms around you squeezed at your sides, shifting you out of the way while his teeth sank in your shoulder.
"Move your ass so I can beat it," Wade growled against you, pulling you back down.
You wiggled on him, distracting him with a flick of your hips. He tightened his hold on you, leaning you into him.
"Winner gets the good pillow," you taunted, leaning into Wade's view.
Wade made a noise of amusement, leaning you sideways out of view before manuevering his controller cord around you.
"Who said I have more than one? Looks like you're sleeping on my chest, kitten."
You pressed your knees into Wade's thighs, pulling yourself upright in his lap again. "You make it sound like a bad thing."
Leaning back, you pecked Wade's temple then sat up on your knees to block his view as the two hyper-colored cars entered the last lap.
"Loser buys coffee in the morning," you offered, using your nitro button at the last curve.
"I'd shake on it, but I'm about to win this--shit!" Wade boasted, ready to breeze past you with his final nitro boost, but you crossed over the finish line and the race was called.
Your character rounded the lap in cartoon cheers and confetti, the winner's title displayed on your half of the screen. Wade's character drove, head in hands defeat, displaying a full 2nd place placard.
"Nice try, baby," you comforted, sitting down on Wade's lap and dropping your controller to the living room accent table. "Make mine's an extra large iced coffee, okay?"
Wade hid a roll of his eyes, dropping his controller next to him and scooping your legs and back into his arms. "You think I reward cheaters? Nice try, yourself."
He shifted onto his knees on the couch, then stood up. You curled your arms around his neck, pointing your toes with Wade carrying you to bed.
"Cheater? You dare to mock my champion title?" You asked, dropping down onto the mattress, your hand folded to your chest in feigned offense.
Wade growled, crawling over you and meeting your lips. You held his face, your fingers tracing over the intricate burns along his ears. Your legs spread, you invited him to steady his weight over yours.
He sighed into your mouth, his face and body relaxing as his arms curled around your waist. He rolled his hips, nestling his bulge behind his briefs at the crest of your mound behind your panties.
You pulled back with a whimper, resting your forehead against his with a huff. Wade shared your breath, his chest meeting yours with a deep stretch of his back.
"I dare," Wade punctuated with a quick peck. "But I'll buy you a coffee as a consolation prize."
You scrunched your nose, puckering your lips for another kiss.
"Make sure it says 'Number One' on it," you teased, rolling your hips to rub against Wade's bulge.
He smirked, baring his top teeth with a playful sneer. "I would, but I'm a sore loser."
You feigned a pout, running your fingers down to Wade's neck. Pulling yourself up, you kissed his cheek then jaw. Wade hummed, tilted his jaw in the direction of your affection.
"Can I...say something?" Wade asked, planting his hands to your hips and putting distance between your bodies.
"Of course, baby," You said, lying back on the bed. Your fingers circled at the nape of his neck, your other hand dragging down his shoulder before finally squeezing his bicep.
Admiring him.
Wade's browline raised, his eyes softening while he stared down at you. He blushed, swallowing hard as his gaze raked down your body clothed in his sweatshirt. His chest rose and fell hard, acknowledging the hi-cut panties you were adorned in.
"I..." Wade began, bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. "don't want to have sex tonight."
Your fingers never stopped curling at the nape of Wade's neck, your other hand running down his side. "Okay, baby. That's okay."
The skin between Wade's brows scrunched, smiling in slight disbelief. He quirked, taking in your demeanor. "You sure?"
The knit of your brows couldn't be helped; tilting your head slightly at Wade, you cupped his jaw and brought him closer to you until your lips grazed his chin.
"I understand if you don't want to, Wade," you reassured, lifting to kiss his cheek, then the corner of his lips. "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."
Wade immediately collapsed against your body, nuzzling and squeezing you close as he tucked his chin over your shoulder. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his slim shoulders and holding him tight against your chest.
"But I'm taking the pillow tonight." You teased.
Wade glanced up at you, squishing his cheek harder against your shoulder. "I'll be your little spoon."
You smiled, kissing Wade's forehead as your fingers traced down his tattered back. His skin a decorated mosaic of scars and welps, his body telling a story all on its own.
You shut your eyes for a long moment, relishing the feeling of Wade's steady weight over yours. "Can I ask you something back?"
Wade stifled a yawn, tucking his chin and shutting his eyes. "Shoot, hot stuff."
You disguised a gulp, your palm petting over your boyfriend's shoulder blade. "Has...anyone made you feel bad for saying 'no'?"
At that, you felt Wade stiffen over you. His body, once malleable and warm was now jagged and cutting. His chin moved over your chest, monitoring your shallow breaths since asking.
Still, he answered: "Uh, yeah. A few."
Your breath stopped, wondering how twisty the question must've felt in Wade's gut. You angled yourself up on your elbow, staring down at Wade positioned on your chest.
In that instant, you wanted to throw your body over his like he did you to shield whatever horrific thoughts you simmered out of him.
"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."
Wade scoffed, effectively shutting down your apology and relaxing against you. "Like that kart racing bullshit? I'm still not over that by the way."
You tried to meet Wade's eyes, your hand finding the back of his head to get him to look at you. "Wade--"
He shut his eyes to hide from your prodding glare, sure that you would see through him. "Don't think I forgot the blue shell. You almost had me forgetting."
Then he was up and off of you, making his way off the foot of the bed and towards the bathroom. You sat up, your body chasing after his.
"Wade, please." You reached for his hand to pull him back into you, console the feelings he harbored.
He threw his hands up in feigned defeat, walking into the restroom. "Just remembered I can't share my bed with a cheater, sorry."
You sat on the edge, dangling a foot to the floor while you waited to hear Wade's movements. You stared at the comforter dangling over the edge of the bed, patiently biding your time until he returned.
Minutes passed without a sound which prompted you to stand. You tiptoed in the direction of the bathroom then leaned against the doorway when you found Wade sitting on the toilet seat., head in hands.
"Baby," you began, launching yourself away from the doorway. "I'm sorry."
You stopped before Wade, who was unmoving. No sniffles echoed from behind his hands, just silence. You swallowed and sat on the decorative toilet rug before his legs, reaching a tentative hand out to pet his knee.
He flinched slightly, but never receded from you. You pet carefully, stringently, at his kneecap then this calf. More time passed in silence between you two until he inhaled deeply and sat up.
"Do you like a man that's repulsed by sex sometimes?" Wade asked geniuinely, his eyes finally meeting yours.
They bore into you, searching inches of your mind to find an answer suitable for his question. The corners of your mouth lifted, tempted to beam a soft smile at him but refrained.
You tenderly rested your chin against his thigh, keeping his inquistive gaze met.
"I like you, Wade," you answered honestly. "And if that's how you feel sometimes, then that's how you feel. I respect it."
Wade scoffed, flashing a hint of his signature smirk before his face fell and he looked away. You saw his eyes glisten something fresh, the tempt of tears.
"You know, when I said I'd like to keep you for a whole year, I was probably exaggerating." He looked down to his clasped hands in his lap.
Wade tempted his tongue out to wet his dry lips, the very lips that kissed you so tenderly. "I want to keep you, but when it comes to sex...I-I-"
"You don't have to keep it up everyday," you said, raising your hand to rest between his open palms. "I'm not asking you to. I'd never ask you to. And I"m not going anywhere unless you ask me to leave."
Wade's bottom tried to quiver, but he sucked it in and looked at you. "I'm not kicking you out for shit. You'll be begging to leave me at the end of this."
Your heart singed at the utterance. Your hand squeezed at his, resting your cheek on his thigh. "What end?"
Wade opened his mouth to speak but clammed up the further he stared. He exhaled a shaky breath, dropping his eyes to your hand in both of his.
"I don't want you to think I'm sick of you. Or disgusted." Wade started, glancing at you. "I just..."
"Don't feel like it sometimes," you finished, nodding along to his sentiment. "I understand, babe. I do. And it's nothing to do with you."
"Don't think you wiggling on me, cheating at that game wasn't doing it for me. It does wonders for the spank bank." He reached up to tap his temple. "But that'll only be when I'm away from you."
Silence crept in again before Wade's breath shoved it away. He stood, pulling you to your feet and tenderly melded his lips to yours.
"I'm sorry, for bringing that--"
"Shush shush," Wade enunciated, folding his index finger to your lips before playfully squishing them down. "I'll race you to bed. Winner gets the pillow."
You flashed your teeth from behind his finger. "Game on."
Darting out of Wade's grasp, you breezed out of the bathroom and hopped onto the bed. Wade was close behind you, his hands ghosting out at your waist to pull you back before his body careened onto the bed directly after yours.
The two of you ended up a tangle of limbs, clawing to the head of the bed, ready to tag Wade's singular pillow in triumph.
"Wade, don't play with me right now."
"I'm playing nice, baby!"
The closer you got to the pillow, Wade would grab your hips and drag you back, causing your hoodie to ride up to your chest. Wade lunged out for the pillow, only stopped by your hands gripping agressively at his ass and yanking him back.
The two of you play-fought in a continuous wave until you called a truce to catch your breath. In the middle of the bed, you and Wade both stared at the ceiling, panting like a pair of dogs.
You glanced over at Wade, over the vast grey sea of bedsheets and started laughing. He grinned at the lilting noises that escaped you and joined in.
He reached for you first, pulling you towards him to bask in your laughter. His hand curved at your hairline then down to your jaw, admiring all big and small about you at once.
He swallowed hard, his laughter dying out the more he was drawn in by your glow, the blush from playing brightening your cheeks. Too soon.
You still tittered, meeting Wade's milky gaze and mapping the beautiful imperfect of his face while your hand drifted up and grabbed onto the pillow.
With a smile, you brought the thin pillow down on Wade's head, cackling all over again as he broke. His nose scrunched with a scoff.
"You cheated, again!" Wade jeered, pulling you in for a deep kiss that shot to your toes.
Your body froze, humming and tittering behind the work of his lips before his tongue slipped into your mouth. The moan that escaped you was unmannered, your hands bracing his waist to keep him a chaste distance from you.
When he pulled away, you tossed the pillow back up and grinned. "I didn't cheat the first time."
"That's debatable, okay? I bet if there was an instant replay, it would've shown I was in the lead."
You stuck your tongue out playfully, pinching at his side. "You wish."
The two of you remained in the center of the bed, going back and forth on your consecutive wins until Wade stifled a yawn.
You sat up, reaching for the comforter to bubble over the two of you. "When you wake up, don't forget my coffee, okay?"
Wade exhaled in acknowledgement, his eyes shutting to feign sleep. "Huh?"
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