#and I have had this proven to me over and over and over growing up

[crimsoncandy04]

Have u ever thought of Scara w tentacles😳 like he was an experiment and we are the one in charged of cater for him, then one day he escape and take us with him to breed cause' he really likes us... Idk if it's possible but might lay eggs for him. Please try writing it one day!! Tysm for those fics u feed uso(≧▽≦)o

I should really check my inbox more often than I do. This is literally such a hot idea.

(also just a heads up, I'm absolutely blasted right now while writing this so if it's not perfect I'm so sorry. Cannabis gummies are a double edged sword for me. On one hand I get the BEST ideas to write but then on the other I forget how words work)

Hope you like it;)

You had seen some weird stuff in your 25 years. It was expected though. You WERE working for the fatui and under one of the more deranged harbingers known for fucked up experimentation too.

However, being put in charge of one of the less important projects involving the sixth harbinger had proven to be more than you were prepared to handle.

A LOT more.

You had no idea why he allowed this to happen or if it was just a bizarre side effect of another failed experiment. But one thing was for certain, the sixth harbinger had been altered physical and now needed to be restrained at all costs. He had actual tentacles growing from his back. Like REAL ones. And for some reason they seemed to have minds of their own at times.

Thrashing around and hitting the thick glass of the containment room as if trying to break out while the young man at their base sat on the cold concrete ground and refused to look at you each time you went over to slide him food through a small opening in the wall that your hand could barely fit through.

You weren't important enough to know the details of what went on in your boss's lab but you had to admit that the sentient tendrils were a bit pretty to look at.

They were a deep indigo. Almost black with small barely discernable silver accents along the sides.

They appeared almost metallic in the right lighting and you had to make yourself look away and stop staring sometimes because you didn't want to be rude.

You were here to complete a job and that was all.

Until the night everything went to shit of course.

You were summoned sometime after midnight along with two other subordinates to check the lab for accidents after a security alarm was triggered for unknown reasons.

You rushed in and immediately you felt your blood go cold at the sight before you.

He had escaped.

Shattered glass lay at your feet as well as blood presumably from the guard who was now nowhere to be seen and most certainly dead.

You heard a yell from the room next to you.

"Stay here!" The other man with you insisted as he drew his gun and took off after the source of the cry.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Because right now you were confused but also rightfully scared.

What happened to the sixth harbinger? He never once gave you reason to believe he was distressed or restless before. He never even spoke to you when you fed him and checked the condition of his holding room.

Did you perhaps miss something?

What caused him to suddenly lash out and attack the guard?

And most importantly what happened to-

*PLOP*

You hear something hit the ground next to you and slowly turn your head to look.

You shriek.

On the ground next to you was the decapitated head of the subordinate who had just left to search for the other man.

You immediately tried to run but were stopped in your tracks as something wrapped around your waist and hoisted you into the air.

You tremble and go silent. Preparing for the worst when you look down and meet eyes with the sixth harbinger.

One of his many new appendages coiled around your middle and rendering you helpless as you silently prayed to every archon you could remember that if you were to die here it would be quick and painless.

He narrows his eyes up at you.

"You. You didn't want to try killing me as well?"

You struggle to answer as you shake violently.

"No sir. I see you nearly every day. I assumed something was wrong and that you were seeking help. I didn't feel like it was right to murder you."

"Are you scared?"

You felt your heart race.

Something about his tone seemed off. Different.

Did he...enjoy the fact that you were clearly terrified?

You closed your eyes and sighed.

Alright.

Every life had its end. This was surely yours.

Don't think about it. Go to your safe place Y/N.

You suddenly feel more tentacles slither around your arms and legs.

You immediately open your eyes as you feel them spread your knees apart.

What the FUCK!?

There's a chuckle from underneath you.

"I must admit... I am enjoying your terror immensely."

Obviously.

You feel an indigo tendril slowly slide up your shirt and wiggle underneath your bra. coiling around one of your breasts and squeezing it roughly as you feel your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. It was cold and slimy but thanks to what you assumed was the natural power of the young man before you, the tentacles emitted a gentle electro current throughout their entire lengths and the sensation caused the muscles in your limbs and stomach to relax unwillingly as you were fondled.

The entire stimulation was now sending jolts of unwilling arousal through you. Scaramouche's eyes darken as he feels your nipple stiffen against one of his slick, muscular coils which had wrapped itself tightly around one of your tits and was now rubbing its head against your delicate peak. Making you struggle to stay quiet.

"Your body is betraying you. How does it feel existing in such a delicate and worthless form? I'm not even trying yet-."

Another tendril snakes up your thigh, sliding beneath your skirt, the cool slickness a shock against your bare skin as you didn't expect this so quickly. It inches higher, brushing against your clothed sex.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly at your soft whimpers then, his voice a sinful caress in your aroused mind as you're made to enjoy this against your will.

"I can still feel you with these. You're so wet already. Does it feel good being teased in such a disgraceful manner? Or were you always this much of a slut?"

He grins wickedly, a predatory gleam in his indigo eyes. The tendrils tighten their grip, squeezing and kneading your most sensitive places, stoking the fire within your core. The air crackles with his power and reeks of your excitement.

A small tentacle hooks into the waistband of your panties and suddenly rips them off completely, baring your glistening sex to the cool air. Another one quickly begins to rub against your slick folds, teasing your wet entrance.

"What a cute little hole~ hmm. I wonder what would happen if I-"

The thick tentacle at your entrance instantly rams itself inside in one painful push, stretching your tight pussy and curling in to rub against your sweet spot as it began to thrust quickly. You could only gasp and cry out as you felt another tentacle slither up your thigh and rub your clit at the same time.

Your eyes widened.

It hurt yet it felt like you had ascended to Celestia all at once.

You force yourself to cry out before you went insane.

"S-Scara! Please! It's too big! You're... stretching me!"

Scaramouche smirks up at your quivering body as he feels your tight walls clenching desperately around his invading tendril. He grinds it deeper, relishing your breathy moans and gasps, the electric current making your body shudder with every caress and thrust.

"Too big? Ha. Your greedy little cunt is taking every inch like it was made for it. Like it was made for me."

He pulls back slightly, then slams the tentacle in deeper. The wet squelching sounds of the violation fill the room, mingling with your increasingly wanton moans and whimpers.

"Listen to yourself, enjoying the feeling of being so ruthlessly defiled. You can't deny your true nature Y/N. You're a weak and disposable creature. I've seen how you go out of your way to try and care about me. How you act so..."selfless" and "considerate" when forced to tend to me knowing damn well it was all only to delude yourself into believing you were making a difference. Tell me, was it tiring?"

Tendrils squeeze your breasts harder, the electric shocks making your nipples stiffen into aching peaks. Another then pushes into your mouth, silencing your cries and leaving you gasping around the slick intrusion.

"It must have been exhausting. Pretending like you actually cared so much. Did you enjoy your little charade? Was it nice pretending like you weren't worth less than the dirt on my shoes because you were "helping "?"

Scaramouche's voice is a dark, lustful growl as he crosses his arms and continues to watch as his tentacles ruin you. The tendril pistoning into your cunt speeds up, the electric shocks growing stronger, pushing you closer and closer to a reluctant release.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my tentacles like the wanton slut you are. You wanted something like this right? To be seen and "loved"? Well let go then."

As Scara speaks, another tentacle snakes down to your puckered rear entrance. It teases the tight ring of muscle, the electric current making it relax. Slowly it pushes inside, stretching your virgin hole around the slick invader.

"Such a tight little asshole... I will enjoy breaking this in as well. You'll be my perfect little fuck toy, ready and eager for me at all times. How does that sound?"

The tentacle in your mouth begins fucking deeper into your throat, making you gag and choke a little. The one in your ass pushes deeper, stretching you impossibly further now as everything borders on pleasure and pain now in an overwhelming way.

"That's it, just like that. Take it all. Take every inch, every inch of my desire. You'll learn to crave this, to need this, to be nothing but a set of holes for me to fill and use. I'll give you a purpose. A reason to exist. Just like you always wanted."

Scaramouche's eyes blaze with sadistic lust as he watches you try to writhe and struggle, your body shaking with unwanted pleasure, your mind clouding with shame and need. He knows he has you now, knows that he can shape you, mold you, ruin you for all others.

And it's driving him insane.

You had caught his attention long ago but of course you were too stupid to notice. You always thought his tentacles were just being "aggressive". No. He had been trying to get you to say something to him. But every time you just stared at him, gave him a stupid little tray of food that he didn't even need. And then just left.

You couldn't blame him for getting a little frustrated and impatient. You had practically forced him to make the first move here.

A couple of minutes went by and suddenly you feel something else being stuffed into your stretched cunt alongside the enormous tentacle already buried inside.

Two smaller and practically microscopic sized tentacles wiggle in and begin to tease your cervix opening. Slowly coaxing their way into your womb as you feel yourself climaxing from the intrusion.

The tentacles writhe and squirm in your womb, painting your inner walls with their slick, tingling essence.

You suddenly feel a deep pressure as something is pumped directly into your womb. You wince and cum again as Scara begins to forcibly impregnates you with his offspring yet instead of your earlier nervousness or shame, you now feel oddly at ease. As if your new reality finally set in for you.

It was kinda enjoyable.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly as he feels your womb trying instinctively to reject his eggs. But the tendrils hold fast, forcing the small yet soft jelly-like lavender eggs deeper, stretching your most intimate space to its limits.

You had finally accepted your place it seemed. Utilizing your body's full potential from here would be far more easy with you now more willing to endure the process and transformation.

The tendrils continue their relentless assault, pumping more and more of the eggs into you, each one a cruel mockery of a seed, a promise of the countless times he will fill you after this as well. You had one purpose now. To be used, bred like a bitch in heat. All for the singular goal of birthing a new army for Scaramouche and his future plans.

You were important for this reason alone.

"Welcome to your new life, mortal. Welcome to eternity as my personal fuck toy, my breeding bitch, my eternal plaything. And you will love every moment of it. I promise."

A few hours pass and your belly swells quickly. During this short incubation period Scara manages to stretch your holes even further almost to the point of beyond recognition. Three tentacles now thrusted in and out of your ruined asshole and Scara had decided to reposition you both to keep an eye on you and to jam another thick tentacle deep into your pussy and continue to ravage it while he silently marveled at your swollen belly from where he now stood over you.

His hands roam possessively over the stretched skin of your stomach. He can feel the eggs he's planted inside you, each one a testament to his dark triumph, a promise of the future that he envisioned where he was untouchable by absolutely anyone. God or human alike.

"Look at you, already so round and full. And this is only the beginning, my dear. I will fill you again and again, until you know nothing but the feeling of carrying my offspring."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the taut skin of your stomach, his voice a dark, mocking murmur.

"Such an easy bitch to breed, so quick to take my eggs, to let them take root inside you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be my incubator, my vessel. And now, here you are, already looking like a proper mother~"

The tentacles continue their relentless assault, stretching you impossibly further, The one now sucking on your clit pulses in time with your racing heartbeat, pushing you to yet another orgasm.

More tendrils move to your heavy, aching breasts again, squeezing and kneading the swollen flesh. They latch onto your nipples, suckling greedily, the electric currents making milk drip faster as it's quickly consumed.

More time goes by. You aren't sure how much exactly but then.

You feel movement in your belly and an uncomfortable shift as the eggs begin to hatch within you. The tentacles in your pussy immediately slide free and smaller ones seize your battered lips before rudely pulling on them to reveal your now loose and sloppy canal in its entirety.

Within seconds a small writhing indigo tentacle pushes its way out of your cervix and begins its descent.

Scaramouche's eyes widen with a fevered, manic light as he watches the first of his offspring emerge and fall to the floor with a small thud. He leans in closer, his breath coming faster as he watches the next little and writhing indigo tentacle push its way out, covered in fluids and its own natural secretions, a grotesque parody of a newborn.

"Look at that... your womb was actually able to grow these things without issue, your body has given life to my creation. I knew I made no mistake when I chose you for this."

The tentacles in your ass begins to writhe and pulse at that moment, easily pulling free from your body to make room for more of the "children " to emerge. Within seconds they start slipping out of your abused holes like nightmarish serpents and forming a horrific pile beneath your deflated body. Their movements are jerky and erratic, their beautiful flesh glistening in the dim light as they slowly start to slither up your legs in search of the warmth they once knew moments ago.

"Such a good mother, so efficient in your purpose. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant for this. And now, look at you... a true incubator, an ideal vessel for what is to come."

Scaramouche reaches down, his fingers brushing against the writhing mass of tentacles, stroking them like a proud parent would a newborn. They pulse and twitch at his touch, as if recognizing their creator, their master.

"They will be the first of many, the vanguard of a new age, a new era of power and dominance."

Your belly continues to churn from inside, more of the eggs hatching, more of the small tentacle creatures slipping out to join their brethren. The floor quickly fills with their jerking, twisting forms, a nightmarish scene.

Scaramouche's maniacal laughter then rings out, echoing off the walls, a sound of pure, unhinged joy at his dark triumph. He knows that he has won. Because with this plan now in action, no one would be able to oppose him for long.

And the world would be his for the taking.

[crow-quilll]

hii! when are you gonna post chapter 11? i have been waiting impatiently ahhhh

Hello!! So sorry, just finished my last assignment today and NOW I am free from university's evil clutches for a whole week. SO I can say that Chapter 11 for Nobody's Soldier will be out tomorrow :) But as a little treat, here's a taste tester:

(CW!!: Aftermath of torture)

-----

"I lost, Young-il," Gi-hun's voice grows quieter, lower, more vulnerable, "I lost. I- I couldn't last through all of it, I gave the Front Man what he wanted."

He runs his own hands through his hair, resisting the urge to pull at the strands to distract himself from the dull, all-consuming shame.

"And then he came in here and--" 

Gi-hun cuts himself off, pressing his lips together as he instantly decides that he can't vocalize what happened next. He just can't. Telling Young-il about the torture was one thing, but telling him how the Front Man hand-fed him stew? How he gently caressed his face and called him "beautiful"?

No. Young-il didn't need to know all of that, he didn't. He would never be able to look at Gi-hun the same again without picturing the Front Man's hand wrapped around his throat, deciding if Gi-hun had behaved well enough to earn the privilege of breathing.

Young-il's hand finds his shoulder gently from behind, "I'm so sorry."

Gi-hun's shoulders lower with a shaking breath out, pulling his hands down from his face, "It doesn't matter, it's over now. We've got more important things to worry about." 

"Gi-hun, you are important," Young-il corrects him, forcefully turning him around to see his face, "How do you expect to lead a rebellion if you can barely stand?" 

"I can stand just fine," Gi-hun refutes stubbornly as he meets the other's eyes, ignoring the way his entire body trembles from supporting his own weight, "What time is it? How long until lights out?"

"Just stop," Young-il commands firmly, both hands finding the sides of his arms as if they never left, "take a breath." 

Gi-hun stares at him bewildered for a moment, something in him instinctively itching to disobey like a beaten dog that bites before it can be kicked again. He has to remind himself that he's talking to someone who genuinely wants to help. He tentatively obeys, taking a slow breath in and wincing at the movement of his mutilated ribs. He holds it for a moment, a dull blush creeping into his face at Young-il's close inspection, and lets the breath out through parted lips.

"We've got time, okay?" In-ho urges, rubbing the side of his arm gently, "You are bleeding through your bandages, so let me at least redress your wounds before you set off for another fight." 

"Young-il, I'm fine--"

"I shouldn't have to keep arguing with you about this," Young-il cuts his lie off, "I know you are in pain. Anyone would be after all you've been through."

Gi-hun grinds his teeth and looks away, "It's not that simple. If we don't make a move now--"

"Hey," Young-il's fingers find his chin and pull his face back up, forcing their eyes to meet, "do you trust me?" 

Gi-hun hesitates a little, swallowing the growing lump in his throat at the way that Young-il holds him. It resembles the Front Man's touch just enough to make him instantly nauseous -- but it's different. The Front Man's touch is cold and unyielding like the sharp kiss of frostbite, but Young-il's is tingly and pleasant like warm rain. And yet, a pit still curls in his gut like two frigid hands reached down his throat, took hold of his intestines, and wrung them like a wet towel.

He shouldn't be hesitating - why is he hesitating? Young-il has proven time and time again that he genuinely wants to help Gi-hun overthrow the Front Man. And yet, Gi-hun can't shake this haunting feeling that he's making the wrong choice.

But it's not Young-il making him hesitate, is it?

It's the Front Man and his games. Gi-hun has been warped like wood in water by this place. He can feel rot spreading to every facet of his being, chewing away at everything he is and ever will be like a cancer. His belief that he could rely on other people died with a whimper the day that Sang-woo bled out in his arms.

If he can believe that humanity is still capable of good, then why can't he trust anyone without waiting for a knife to dig into his back?

So, despite that sinking sensation in his chest, Gi-hun bites back his automatic reservations and lets his cracked walls lower.

"I trust you," Gi-hun says honestly, sounding far more breathless than he originally meant as he feels Young-il's breaths warming his face. 

Young-il's fingers fall away from his chin, his intense gaze softening like ice in sunlight, "Then let me help."

-----

Hehe, I hope you enjoyed this little appetizer. A new chapter is on its way, get ready my friends <3 <3

[venomouslilith]

.

[risingsunresistance]

sorry him saying he has no idea where the misogyny thing comes from when ludwig just talked about how he sent him a big apology for calling his friend a whore when it was about THE WRONG WOMAN is funny as fuck

i dont think he realizes that the reason no one gives a shit about his apologies and honestly just straight up ignores them is because EVEN IN THE EVENT THAT THEY ARE TRUE he's been proven to lie soooooo many times to the point where you really cant believe a word that comes out of his mouth. he says something and im like "damn maybe i was wrong about that one... i'll look into it" and you get more info and go "oh. he just made that part up. and misworded that. and lied about that part... oh it was actually WORSE than i initially thought!"

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[flanaganfilm]

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.

[bigfatbimbo]

Take a Bite

1.5k words,, Bill Cipher x Reader

summary — Bill and the reader have sex, which has proven to be very difficult seeing as he isn’t doing anything, and, of course, things are never easy with that insufferable brat.

warnings — SMUT, bill being annoying and toxic, dom!reader, sub!Bill, heavy pain kink, bill’s human form, the fat fuck not the twink

a/n — Admittedly, this fic only happened because I never see Bill sub in fanfics and i’m very interested in what the dynamic would be. You’d be like… domming with a risk of death.

“Well, slick,” Bill leaned back and gestured up and down his body, “Give it your all.”

Amusement was thick in his voice, along with bubbling giddiness. He fumbled with the seams on his pants, not out of nervousness, but as if he had forgotten how to take them off and was looking for some kind of zipper. One, admittedly, that he would not find on slacks. 

“Wow, human clothes are just as bad as the fleshbags. So needlessly complicated,” He sounded on the verge of a laughing fit, “Oh, and toots? Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.” 

His amusement was not matched on your part. The situation invoked dull curiosity at best, in your opinion. The idea of harboring a wanted criminal, ex-overlord, god-like demon in your house challenged your idea of a good time. Having sex with that demon was even harder to swallow.

Then again, any situation with bill warranted an ungodly amount of stress. 

“Whatcha’ thinking about over there, sweet-cheeks?”

You smiled at that; of the few advantages you have, being in gravity falls for weirdmageddon proved to be one of them. You know of his powers, and with that, vague guesses on how to prevent them.

Tinfoil-lined bobbie pins were one of them. A guess, granted, but a good one at that. Really, not that complicated when you recall every alien movie you’ve ever watched. 

“Upset you can’t tell?” 

He laughed, “Upset for you, maybe. Trust me, it’d be so much easier for both of us if I could just read your thoughts. I’m already your roommate, how much closer could we ge- Ah.”

You brushed his pants crotch, and began to unbutton. For all his mightiness, the guy couldn’t work pants. “Careful, human body’s are touchy.” 

“Touchy,” He repeated, “Tell me about.” 

Getting his pants off was a task harder than it should have been, no thanks to Bill, who seemed to have taken to just lying there, occasionally flicking you, and then himself. 

When you finally peeled all of his clothes off, you warned him to brace himself, to which he ignored you. On top of that, the entire time Bill had been talking, droning on about ‘the last time he’d been in a human body.’

You wondered vaguely if he’d ever done this with someone else. In the time he’d been at your house he’d mentioned some ‘sixer’ ex-thing-ish of his. But you doubt he’d done anything with him.

As he’d mentioned, he hadn’t perfected his human form until very recently. Perfected is a strong word, he was pudgy and short, remanisent of a human peanut. And his teeth were terrible. 

Either way, you’d gotten him ready, and began your work. Laying a light finger on the tip of his dick, and running it down the base of his length, you got Bills first reaction: a short sniff.

Recovering fast, he adjusted his seat, “Yeah, tick tock, toots. This better be good.” 

It was his idea, you thought, but continued. Your fingers wrapped around the entirety of his cock and you began to stroke it. 

A sigh left Bills mouth, “Oh, this does have a kick to it. Maybe you’re not so bad, after all.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, you’d grow angrier and angrier. Although you were clearing making him feel good, he’d never shut his snide mouth for two seconds. 

“Jesus, slow down, pal— I just perfected this flesh-bag, at this rate your gonna break something—“ 

You didn’t realize how much your hand sped up. You thought for a moment, before completely stopping. Bill looked taken aback.

“Hey! what’s the—“

Without warning you grabbed his dick with full force and squeezed. He yelped, before giggling at the hurt.

This made you more mad, “God, do you ever shut up? I wish you’d lost your voice when you lost Gravity Falls.”

He stopped giggling. “I’d watch what you say, if I was you, kid.”

You threw your head back and laughed, running your hand slowly up his dick and then slamming back to the base of his cock. Finally, a reaction other than knowing bliss: anger. Weakness.

“Oh dear god, rearrange the features of my face then, Billy. See if I give a shit when you don’t have a place to live.”

His face turned red with rage, and he recoiled at the mention of your upperhand. And then, finally, at the slowing of your hand, a small, wavering whimper. 

You both caught it, and he was quick to put a hand of his mouth, “Sensitive human bodies - Hey, don’t look at me like that, that was not my fault.”

“God, you’re such a brat.”

“Oh please, what are you gonna do about it?” And he was completely serious.

Without much hesitation, you took the moment as an opportunity to abruptly sink yourself onto his dick. He sucked in a breath but you didn’t give him much time to do anything else.

“Ah- Now we’re talki—“ You slapped him hard across the face, and grabbed his cheeks with your hand, squishing them together, mockingly. Stifled laughter from Bill. 

“This is the form you spent all that time perfecting? I can barely feel anything. It’s worthless!” You sped up riding him, loosening your face to give the illusion you were bored, “You’re worthless.” 

His eyebrows arched down and his eyes widened, “I can kill you with a snap of my fingers! You think I need this sex— You think I need this hous— ah, ah—“

The unknown pleasure was getting to him, making his brain foggier than usual, and it was showing. Human senses were a key factor in your ability to keep the high-ground. Just as long as it felt good enough, he wouldn’t go back to his original form and… well. 

You wondered vaguely if you were actually going to be in mortal parole after this. But then again, the look on his face was almost euphoric, despite the anger. Thankfully, Bill was selfish, he’d probably chase the high again

You sighed, “Oh, you do need this house, Billy. Where else would you go? Everyone else in town has already forgotten about you, and your little maniac friends are no where to be seen.”

You sped up once more as your hands danced up his body, and continued, “With this whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind routine, i’m giving you something you won’t be getting anywhere else: attention.”

“You— Ah, curse this feeble human body! I’ll make your life a living hell-“ He whined, actually whined. 

Slamming yourself down on him, he cried out and then scowled. You raked your nails down his chest, deep enough to bleed, drawing out a  giggle from Bill as he felt the littlest bit of blood start to pool.

“You’re lucky this meatbag is— ah— funny enough—“ He was cut off with a gargle as a your hand sharply wrapped around his throat, and squeezed tight. 

“It’s not luck, i’m good at what I do, Billy. Not that you would know what that’s like, you pathetic shitbag,” although that insult wasn’t particularly true, you didn’t give him a chance to snap back, and instead put your other hand on his neck as well. 

You rode him with more speed than ever now. His eyes fluttered open and shut slowly, and he leaned into your hands. 

His face flushed, but a dreamy smile spread to the edges of his face as you made sure to leave bruise marks on his throat, still slamming against him. 

Although, you didn’t want to actually break him, so when his face began to turn purple, you let go. He gasped for air and let out a raspy, crazed giggle that went on for too long, and ending in a moan.

“I’m— “ Bills eyebrows furrowed, as if he was trying to decipher what the amusing thing the human body had planned next, “Somethings— somethings happening.”

His voice was broken, neck bruised, cheek red with a slap mark, eyes foggy, and chest bleeding from your nails. 

Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.

Clearly you’d kept your end of the deal, and from what you’ve gathered it was time for the finale. You chased your own climax now as well, even though, admittedly, you hadn’t been thinking about it the whole session.

Annoying as it was that Bill still managed to make something all about him —and he definitely knew, mind reading or not— you still kept up your pace. 

“You’re close?” 

He smiled blissfully, and nodded.

What the hell. You smiled, “Good boy.”

His reaction was… startling. He leaned his head back, let out a small half-whine half-laugh, and arched off the bed. Finally, he released.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

I beg of you to do some good nsfw mean dom sevika doin some brat taming 🤭🤭🤭

nsfw content warning. Spanking, clit stim, rough strap-on sex, harsh words, hairpulling, all that good but consensual stuff!

"Gonna fill this pussy up so good, baby.."

Sevika was treating you real nice, having your body laid across her lap as she just rubbed your clit from behind. Her touch is sensual and she promised to stretch you full (if her cock adjusted on her waist jutting obscenely out isn't enough of a promise already), but the thumb rubbing firmly on your clit isn't enough for you, apparently.

Sevika is starting to notice that over time, you have become more and more impatient. The first few fucks were good. You listened to her, when she would say "cum", you'd cum and thank her. Sevika likes her girls well-behaved. You, she initially thought, are well-behaved.

The previous times she's fucked you has proven her wrong, unfortunately. You went from her sweet girl, on your knees at her beck and call, to what? A greedy whore? It hasn't happened yet, not with her at least meeting you halfway by not teasing your clit, instead keeping the pressure building and firm, but she has a feeling you're going to catch an attitude for more, to get your way. To prove whatever point you wanna make with her. Unfortunately, she's right.

Sevika is so, so close to getting you to where she wants you. She isn't too much of a tease, not tonight. Talking you through it, telling you how pretty your pussy is from the view, all of that good stuff she likes to do. She is just about to pull you off of her, to fuck you just how you like it when her ears catch that little grumble. She hopes that she didn't just hear what she thinks passed through her brain.

"Not fucking me fast enough." Is what she definitely just heard. It's a sly, subtle comment, simply mumbled by you in a whiney tone that she usually wouldn't care too much to check. But Sevika's just not the most patient. You, unknowingly, just fucked yourself harder than any dildo of hers could.

Sevika's flesh palm connects with your ass cheek. You should be grateful that she doesn't use her shimmer arm, but you can't even register it all. You would cry out, if you had the time to process it before she's manhandling you onto your hands and knees, breeching your entrance with the tip of her cock, and not even hesitating to shove every single inch that she can possibly manage.

You said you wanted to be fucked, Sevika is only granting your wish. On her own terms, of course.

You cry out as she bottoms out, your pussy tightening around the shaft so tightly, almost rejecting the suddenness of it all. It's not like the usual fire that you get from her where you feel all gooey and warm inside. This is more like a pain that spreads, but with it the pleasure begins to seep into your body throughout, though it's quite overwhelming.

Sevika sets a steady pace, fucking deep into you, landing smacks on your ass that make you almost collapse onto the bed prone, but her mechanical arm holds you up by your stomach, one of her cold, metallic fingers flicking at your clit tauntingly as you cry out. For mercy, or for more? You don't even know.

"What's wrong? You said I wasn't fucking you fast enough." She teases, angling her hips upwards to take advantage the angle. She is going to ruin your poor g-spot at the pure harshness of it all.

"It's too much, please-" you choke out, and she tugs your hair tightly, forcing you to look back at her. She doesn't look amused besides the subtle twinkle in her eye.

"You're gonna take everything I have to give this pussy. Gonna take it like a greedy whore, cause that's what you are, aren't you?"

You whine, but you can't deny her words.

"Yeah, you are. You can tell me to stop anytime," her voice grows breathless with her thrusts, "but you haven't." And that's entirely true. All of what she's done, you've told her in the past that she has the access to it all. You know your safe word. Why is it that you like so badly to be tamed like some lap dog, not allowed to whine back at her?

Sevika hasn't caught on yet. She's a smart woman, she hasn't thought it out like you have. You began to act up on purpose, whining and complaining during sex, acting inconvenienced just to get her attention. To get on her nerves and finally see her snap, and it is just glorious to witness as she fucks you just like how your pussy's been begging her to fuck you. Deeply, as if she is made for you. Fast and harsh, as if she hates you. Sevika is mean, and you always noticed that when watching her talk to other people. You've wanted it for yourself.

Eventually, Sevika lets you collapse. She doesn't stop, but alternates into deep strokes, now just wanting to see you spill over.

"You love it when I say awful, filthy shit to you. Admit it." Her breath is next to your ear now, her front pressed up against your back. Her stiff nipples brush deliciously against your bare skin.

"I love it. I love when you fuck me 'n be mean to me," you struggle to admit, but there it is. She's got you tamed.

"Yeah, there's my good girl.." she coos praisingly, making your head spin. "Just likes to be a brat for fun?"

You can't answer because she offers one deep, hard thrust, making your pussy cream, even coating a bit of the harness in your juices.

It is all so worth it, cause now she's got her good girl back, and she knows just what you like.

[dollfacefantasy]

wait idk if you write for wade but ermm bf!logan fucking reader n letting wade watch ?!!?!?!? he wants to show wade that you’re his!!!

you got it <3 i have never written for wade before but i’m gonna try my best for you 🙏

logan howlett x fem!reader ft. wade wilson cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation

"You enjoying yourself over there?" Logan grunts from where his jaw rests against your temple.

"How could I not be? You're putting on a great show," Wade replies without missing a beat.

As usual, his answer is laced with mockery. He sits leaned back against the cushion of the sagging chair in the corner. His eyes watch you and your boyfriend with amusement, but the hint of desire gleams over his irises as well.

You're perched in Logan's lap on the bed. You've been here for a while. Your back rests flush against the warmth of his chest. His large palms cup and grope at your breasts, skilled fingers tweaking your nipples below your ribbed shirt. This started as a moment between the two of you, but opened up to include his roommate as the third party a few minutes ago.

"I would've thought you'd already be jerking off, you sick fuck," Logan taunts.

The words roll off Wade's shoulders like water, which is fine because there was no true animosity behind the term of endearment. You understood by now that is just how they communicate. 

"Well I don't know how you remember it, peanut, but you invited me to watch."

"Only cause you practically invited yourself in."

"Please with the way you left the door open, you all but asked for a ménage à trois."

The roll of your boyfriend's eyes is nearly audible to you, but you can actually feel his lips curling up into a smirk against your cheek. His fingertips give your stiffened buds a nice twirl, coaxing a soft whimper out of you. That only heightens how smug he is.

"What d'you think, baby? Is this what you wanted?" he breathes.

All he gets from you with that question is a small whine because, in truth, you didn't intend for this to happen, but you weren't unhappy that it was now. Originally, when you came over to visit your boyfriend, you didn't think his roommate was home. That assumption had been proven wrong by the sound of a low whistle only minutes later, coming from the open doorway Wade was watching through.

It's the same whistle he makes now.

"I always thought you were the type to make cute noises like that," Wade smirks.

"Did you now? You think about her a lot?" Logan says.

"Here and there."

You hear a breathy chuckle behind you, but you're too caught up with the feeling of hands on your chest. They cup and massage, caress and tease. It's bliss, but it's been going on for so long it feels closer to torture. You could feel your panties growing uncomfortably damp; though all you do is tilt your head back against his shoulder. Logan had never let you down. You just needed to be patient.

Wade wasn't content to just watch from the sidelines though, so he pipes up again.

"It's not my fault she struts around in those outfits of hers. Skirts so small they look like they were made for dolls," he quips.

"Her clothes look best when they're on the floor," your boyfriend adds.

To go along with his statement. His hands leave your breasts and tug your shirt over your head, tossing it into the other man's lap. The bright, thin fabric makes the semi-hard tent in his pants more noticeable. You bite your lip as he palms himself over the material.

Your nipples had long been visible through that tiny shirt, but now they were just in plain sight. Wade's eyes had locked onto the hardened nubs. Logan's fingers still fondled them, pulling on them until you whined.

Soon enough, you're arching your back, which unintentionally boosts your hips from his lap. He takes the advantage to pull your skirt from your legs and discard the garment on the floor.

"I think you were right, peanut. She does look much better like this," Wade says, "Maybe we should have a new dress code around the apartment."

"In your dreams. Enjoy this while you can," Logan shoots back.

Your breaths grow labored. You feel the bulge pressed against your ass growing as your hips swivel and rub your plush flesh on the familiar cock.

"She's got pretty tits, doesn't she?"

For once, Wade doesn't have a quick comeback. Instead, he just nods. 

"Spread your legs, bub. Let him see how cute that little pussy is too," Logan rumbles in your ear.

Your thighs spread on instinct as if each syllable was pulling on some puppet strings. Now on display are the simple panties you were wearing and the wet patch that had formed between your thighs. You feel it only growing worse as Wade's eyes snap down to it and stay there.

On the other side of you, one of Logan's arms constricts around your chest while the other dips and slots a hand between your thighs. He cups the heat of your center before his fingers apply ample pressure.

You mewl, body rolling with the new waves of pleasure coursing through your limbs. Logan chuckles at your responsiveness. He nips at your earlobe before more words come out against your skin.

"You showing off? You're moving a lot."

"I-I'm not. Just feels good," you whimper in defense of yourself.

At the reminder of the other man, you cast your gaze over to him. The heel of his palm is still smoothing over his erection, giving himself dull stimulation similar to the kind Logan's providing you with.

"You know what'd make it feel even better?" he asks, the question obviously leading to the answer 'me.'

Before you can muster any kind of response, Logan's hands meet in the middle of your body around the curves of your waist. He picks you up and spins you around, pinning you on your back against the mattress. His larger frame cages you in on the foamy surface.

He tilts his head up to grin at Wade. "Your invitation was to watch. Don't remember asking for your commentary."

"You didn't have to. It's a package deal," he says back.

Logan shakes his head before latching his mouth onto your neck. His teeth scrape at your tender flesh while his tongue simultaneously flicks at your pulse. He teases just the right amount to keep your movements chasing him for more.

Your body squirms beneath the heat of him. He keeps you in place though. His hands sweep down from your shoulders. They stop on your tits to give some more attention to the soft mounds. Then, they continue their descent and coast over your hips, cupping the swell of your ass. It feels like they're so many places at once that for a brief second you wonder if Wade had actually joined in.

You angle your head back and find the other man still parked in his seat, proving your theory wrong. He smiles at you. You see it upside down because of your position. It's the last thing your vision catches before your eyes flutter closed.

Logan pushes you down hard on the mattress before then pulling you up a bit to tear your panties off. Once they're gone, he pulls back onto his knees so he can shove his pants down to mid thigh and get his cock out.

The huge appendage stands proudly before both you and Wade. He wraps his fingers around it and pumps, giving no facial reaction despite the fact that his slit begins oozing precum. You feel like you're gonna start drooling just from watching the rhythmic, repetitive motion that he uses to pleasure himself.

"You like what you see?" he teases.

You start to nod, but Wade chimes in. "Fuck off. Do you even have to ask?"

That brings a giggle from your lips. You look at him over your shoulder, smile on your lips inherently flirty from how turned on you are right now.

"It's nice, isn't it?" you ask.

He does respond, but Logan's voice overpowers him in your ears. "Ah ah. All your attention on me."

He tugs you closer by your thighs, bringing you flush against him. You can feel the way his cock pulses where it rests on top of your cunt. It lies there like a form of foreshadowing. A visual of how he'll be fitting inside you a few moments from now.

"If you're talking to someone else, that means I'm not doing my job right."

With that, his hips slip backward and then slide forward again, pushing his shaft inside the tight, warm, embrace of your cunt. You keen as that familiar feeling of fullness washes over you. Your limbs start to squirm, but he pins your biceps down with his forearms and your legs are trapped from the position he has you in. There's no other option besides lying there and taking it.

He lets out a deep sigh too. You were already spasming around him. Your walls convulse rapidly as they work to accommodate the thick intrusion.

"Still feeling good?" he grunts.

He feels himself all the way bottomed out and rests there for a brief moment. Just as you're about to answer, he drags out and then snaps back in. Your response shatters into a whiny moan. The rest of your words come out garbled as a result, so you just nod instead.

"Yeah? You think you need anything else to make it better?" he asks.

That one gets a rapid head shake in response.

Chuckling at the stark difference, he looks up at Wade in the corner as he starts to thrust at a more measured pace. His intention had been to taunt the merc, but he sees him even more reclined than before, hand stroking his cock up and down. It increases the heat in Logan's belly and gets him slamming into you harder.

"Fuckkkkk," you whine. One of Logan's hands comes up to rest on your throat for better leverage to thrash you against the mattress with.

"You're so tight for me, baby," he groans, "You like this? You like being watched?"

"Mhm, yeah," you answer, words sputtering from your lips like a broken sprinkler.

A sound somewhere between a hum and growl comes from Logan. He leans down impossibly closer, his hips not stopping once.

"You like me showing you off? Showing someone else how well you take me?"

In response, he gets another lazy, blissed-out nod from you.

Despite your head feeling all foggy, your grip on his shoulders stays firm. Your nails dig into the skin, a small way to keep you grounded when you feel like everything around you is just fading into the background.

"Tell me who's making you feel this good," you hear him grunt in your ear.

"You."

The word comes out breathy and moaned. Too quiet for his liking.

"Who? Say my name."

"You, Logan," you whine before a chorus of whimpers bursts from you.

His cock was angled to ram into your favorite spot. It pistons against it over and over. Your legs shake violently, and all you can even think to do is keep calling out his name.

"You hear that?" he asks Wade.

"I think the version of you who died could hear it," the other man smirks.

Your boyfriend huffs out a laugh against your shoulder and keeps fucking into you. The bed creaks almost loud enough to challenge the noise you're making.

Wade keeps dragging his fist over his length. His pace resembles the one Logan's using for you. He squeezes and swipes his thumb over his tip. ghosts his fingers over the sensitive underside. He could tell you were getting close, and he intended to finish along with the two of you.

"Almost there for me, bub?" Logan asks.

"Yeah, yeah. Just need you. Don't stop," you whimper.

"Not going to," he breathes, "Not until there's no question you're mine."

You knew what that meant. There would be no question when he came and had his cum leaking out of your pussy. That's the goal he's working toward, the finish line he's hurtling to.

His hips clap against your center, filling you completely. You rock against the blankets with his momentum. The feeling of euphoria plumes inside you, luring you closer to your release.

"C'mon, no need to be shy. Cum for me. Show him how good I make you feel," he purrs.

Those words are the final strike you need to go crashing over the edge. You choke out a moan, and your body goes lax beneath him. You melt into a twitching puddle of shudders and whines, babbling about how perfect he feels inside you.

Your performance elicits a groan from Wade in the corner. You can't see, but you have strong suspicion it was the finale for him too. You imagine the way his hips buck into his hand and his head tilts back in pleasure. A pristine stream of pearlescent white bursting from him. It drives another wave of ecstasy over you.

Logan cums last. His hands fly to dig into the spaces beside your head; he avoids gripping your arms while he cums to prevent shattering your bones. The light duvet scrunches up with his fists. His eyes close too. A sharp puff of air leaves his mouth before his hips hammer into you deep and spill his load.

His balls smack against your ass, a final resounding sound signifying the end of his thrusts. He looks like a god when he cums, bulky, glistening chest on full display. His v-line and pubes slick with your arousal. Face set into an expression of pure satisfaction.

He fucks you full just like you need. Your eyes droop with the contentment it brings over you.

You're not sure how long you're in that dreamy daze for. You barely register Logan pulling out or climbing off of you. You only regain some sense of your surroundings when you hear mocking applause from behind you.

"Bravo you two. Color me impressed," he says before whistling, "If you guys put that on the internet, you could make something with that. Bring the whole celebrity sex tape thing back."

You hang your head back to look at Wade. "Yeah, but we're not really celebrities," you smile.

"And we're not doing a sex tape," Logan says from the other side of you.

Your head whips around to face him, and you laugh at the serious expression on his face. The sweet sound of your laughter lightens it up a bit. He reaches out to give your cheek a gentle stroke.

"It's just a suggestion. And with a name like the X-men, there's no limit on possible porn titles," Wade concludes, receiving more laughter from you and a groan from Logan.

[yandere-writer-momo]

I know I promised Jervis, but Ed Nygma enraptured me. God I love that weird man. It’s short and sweet (to my standards).

Yandere DC Shorts: The Missing Piece

Yandere Riddler x Nurse Fem Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamic, stalking, obsession, DELUSIONAL man, exploring Ed’s OCD a bit, and Edward Nygma is obsessive

Edward Nygma knew he was the smartest man in the world. He’s proven it countless times with his elaborate attacks on Gotham city.

He was simply kind enough to leave clues because he enjoyed the game he played with Batman! The attention thrilled him for years… at least until he got a taste of genuine affection from the new nurse in Arkham.

Never had Edward felt his heart flutter and his stomach twist when (your full name), his sweet nurse in Arkham, gently disinfected the wounds on his pale skin that were inflicted by guards. Never had has his breath shuttered when she’d ask in her soft, velvety voice if he was okay… never had he experienced someone show care for him.

By the heavens it was simply addictive. The chemicals that released in his brain when he saw (your name)’s sweet, smiling face were better than any drug known to man. Edward never wanted anyone more in his life.

Look at him, (your name)! Love him! Let him worship you as you equally worship him! Praise him! Be his! His! His! His!

If only the poor, little nurse realized just how detrimental of a decision she had made just by the simple act of kindness… maybe then, it would have saved her from the obsession of a lonely madman.

.

.

.

“I never noticed your eyes were such pretty shade of green, Ed.” (Your name) smiled warmly at her patient whose ears turned pink. “They remind me of sea glass.”

Edward held his hands that began to sweat profusely in nervousness. She thought his eyes were pretty? He found every inch of (your name) pretty! From the tips of her toes to the strand of each hair on the top of her head. How could someone be so perfect?

“T-thank you.” Edward felt so nervous… he wasn’t used to someone’s utmost attention. To compliments and praise he had always desired since he was young. He was thrilled to finally be perceived.

“I’m glad you’re healing up nicely.” (Your name) smiled at him as his green eyes studied her expectantly like a lovesick puppy. “I’ve been so worried about you. I’m sorry the guards are so nasty to you.”

She had no idea he purposely riled those British guards up just to be able to be here with her. That he needed his fix.

“I have a riddle for you…” Edward gave (your name) a sickly sweet smile as his heart fluttered and the blood rushed to his cheeks. Would she be able to solve it? He hoped so! He would try to make it easy so she could figure it out…

“A riddle? For me?” (Your name) smiled at him. “I’d love to hear one.”

Here it goes… Edward mentally told himself before the usual cocky persona he presented to the world came back to the forefront.

"What grows stronger the more you share it, and makes your heart beat faster when you're near someone special?"

(Your name) thought for a moment before she smiled. “Is it feelings for someone?”

“Correct.” Edward smiled as he took her hands in his. “Do you… have feelings for anyone?”

“Not currently.” She told Ed as his grip tightened on her hands. His breath shaky and his eyes glazed over.

Was he not on her radar? Did she… not see him as a man? Was he not handsome enough? Did he not have enough brawn?

“Ed? Are you alright-“ Ed suddenly pulled her close with a strength she didn’t know he possessed. His body trembled as all of his frustrated emotions bubbled to the surface.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. “Am I… not attractive?”

(Your name blinked. Once. Then twice. Her brows scrunched together in confusion.

“What do you mean, Ed?” She softly asked.

Ed scoffed and looked away. Why had he shown such vulnerability to her? (Your name) should feel blessed to be in his general vicinity! She was ungrateful to have the attention of the ingenious Riddler! She should be the one who begged for his attention, not the other way around-

(Your name) gently placed a palm on his forehead. “You’re hot to the touch, Ed… why didn’t you tell me you had a fever?”

Ed completely melted under the touch. His eyes closed and his breathing calmed. Her touch always felt so right… like his missing piece.

[multific]

Will and Heart

Marcus Acacius x Reader

Summary: Destined to marry the General, you try your best to give him a good impression. But there is something between the two of you that nothing will change, age.

Your home's atmosphere was calm yet busy, all of the servants were preparing for the evening.

As you wandered past your father’s study, a conversation caught your attention.

The door stood slightly ajar, enough for you to catch a small part of the conversation happening inside.

“She’s too young,” a familiar voice remarked with a firm tone. It was Marcus Acacius. “A girl, not yet a woman. She’s spirited, yes, but that alone won’t prepare her for the challenges ahead.”

You froze, your heart sinking at the weight of his words. And you thought he was happy to marry you. Because you certainly were.

“She has potential,” your father disagreed. “She only needs time and support.”

“Time is a luxury,” the General replied. “And support cannot replace maturity.”

Your fingers curled into fists as your pulse quickened with anger flowing through you, you walked away.

Immature? Incompetent?

His words stung and sparked a fire within you.

You were now determined to prove him wrong.

You found yourself in the training yard that afternoon.

Soldiers had left their training equipment for the midday meal, leaving the area quiet.

You picked up a wooden practice sword, it was unfamiliar but felt manageable.

The movements you tried were clumsy, mimicking what you had seen in passing. Since you never paid much attention to the men training there.

Each swing of the sword came with a whispered mantra: Prove him wrong.

“You’re holding it incorrectly,” a voice called from behind.

You were startled, turning to see a passing soldier glance at you before moving on.

Rude.

Biting your lip, you adjusted your grip and resumed your practice.

The strikes came faster now, your determination growing with each swing, though your arms began to ache.

A misstep sent you stumbling, your foot twisting awkwardly beneath you. You cried out as pain shot through your ankle, and the sword clattered uselessly to the ground.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break something,” a voice rumbled, this one unmistakable.

Your stomach sank as Marcus Acacius stepped into view.

His sharp gaze swept over you, assessing the damage.

“Was this supposed to impress me?” he asked, crouching beside you.

You looked away, embarrassed but unwilling to let him see your shame as the tears began to gather in your eyes.

“I wanted to show you I’m not just some naive girl,” you whispered.

He sighed, carefully lifting your ankle.

“And instead, you’ve proven why I had concerns.” His words hurt, but his touch was gentle, steadying you as he wrapped a cloth around your injury hoping to keep your ankle in place.

“I was trying to be strong,” you countered, wincing. “I wanted to show you I can handle more than you believe.”

"Strength isn’t about reckless displays,” he said quietly. “It’s about knowing your limits and recognizing when to ask for help.”

When his gaze met yours, it was no longer distant or dismissive.

“I underestimated you,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “You have more courage than I gave you credit for.”

Your breath caught, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard.

“I just wanted you to see me differently,” you said with a long sigh.

“I do,” he murmured, his expression shifting. The lines of his face softened as he studied you, something new flickering in his dark eyes. “You’re... remarkable.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, his unexpected words sending your heart racing.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“I see you now,” he said, his voice low and steady.

“Good,” you replied, a small smile breaking through. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips curved into a rare smile, and in that moment, you knew you had won far more than his respect.

You had captured his heart.

Gladiator II Collection

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[paper-mario-wiki]

wait so how did you get a "boring" office job? did you have to go to college or did you just apply for basic stuff and work your way up from there?

it was 100% through connections.

i mean, i actually GOT the job and have been able to KEEP the job because i'm smart and capable and good at doing things and have made the company a lot of money, but if i didn't know the right people i would not have even had a chance at it, and it would be disingenuous of me to pretend otherwise.

most of the moment-to-moment skills i use for clerical work (the majority of my job) i gained in highschool through my fascination with computers + all of the programming and software classes i took.

the business and accounting classes i took in university primed me for a basic understanding of how to run a company (or at least how to manage one, as my exact title is "Business Manager"), and all of my anthropology and sociology studies have given me a pretty keen insight for communication, which comes in major handy in a corporate setting. i was able to latch onto Corpo Speak pretty quickly, which has proven to be an indispensable skill (if a bit soul-sucking to utilize).

i got this job after receiving 0 work or callbacks from Indeed after applying to dozens of jobs over several months, which is a very difficult idea to reconcile with for me. i feel like im pretty capable, but apparently people whose job it is to give other people jobs don't agree. in spite of this, in 2 years ive generated hundreds of thousands of dollars of revenue for the company that decided to hire me because the owner saw me down on my luck and wanted to give me a break.

so i have to wonder, are we stupid, or are the companies stupid?

it's the companies. ive seen it firsthand. with this job, i go to business events and meet some of the most gullible people ive ever come across, and they're all CEOs.

they're so ravenously shortsighted with regards to their quarterly profit margins that they'd chase a 5 dollar bill the wind blew off a cliff for their shareholders. or more accurately, they'd push one of their minimum wage workers off the cliff to grab it.

because of that shortsightedness, conditions are getting worse, employment terms are becoming shorter, companies are shuttering left and right, pays are stagnant or lowering, and the growing number of people this inhuman greed affects are becoming more and more restless.

if you can't get a job in 2024, there's a very good chance it's not your fault. you shouldn't give up (unfortunately for now we still need to earn money to live in society), but try not to forget that.

[noneoutofnone]

Getting whiplash going back to Armored Core VI after playing Starfield

Starfield trips over itself letting you know all of the quests are chill and good actually. The choices in dialogue range from doing a good deed to doing a good deed… for money😈. The only way to join the Space Pirates is to be offered the chance to go undercover first, making sure you see the Pirate but you’re a good guy option. If a persuasion check with someone fails, leaving you only with the prompt [Attack], your companion will say something to the effect of “woof, that was rough. But you did what you had to do.”

The most recent mission I finished in Starfield was for the United Colonies. You stand in front of a council of bureaucrats trying to convince them to hand over banned archival weapon data. This could help stop a small but growing danger to the galaxy. The council argues that it could also lead to that weapon falling into the wrong hands - It was locked away for a reason. It’s a great moment because it was the first time a character in starfield stood up and said to me No, you are in the wrong here, your research could lead to the weapon data leaking, civilians will be put it danger. ALERT. oh no. ALERT. Just as this conversation is happening an entirely contained but also extremely dire attack occurs. ALERT. You rush out and save the day. The threat is proven to be real and the data is necessary. No more questions about is it the right thing to do. Forget about all that other stuff we brought up, you were right. The whole council apologizes to you profusely. Here, take the nuclear launch codes, and here’s a thousand credits as an apology for insinuating that you weren’t the galaxy’s goodest bestest boy.

Mission 1 of Armored Core 6 is called “Illegal Entry”.

In mission 4 “Destroy the transport helicopters” the helicopters are just that. No weapons. Trying to run from you. The rubiconians who stand between you and the helicopters are defending their families. During the fight the enemies bark about you being the bad guy. After the mission your Dad calls you and says “It’s just a Job 621. All of it.” Throughout the entire game you are flooded with voicemails, calls, voices in your head, that all have an opinion on whether what you’re doing is good or bad or just a job.

Starfield is telling you not to think about it too hard. Armored Core is telling you to think about it. A lot. Screaming at you to think about it. What are you doing. It’s not just a job. The game is talking about your actions through all sorts of different lenses.

It’s stepping out of a lazy river and then immediately riding down Niagara Falls in a barrel. Sometimes literally. You see the same safe boring landing cutscene a million times in Starfield. Twice 621 has packed themselves into a barrel and yeeted it into danger.

[9toji]

MDNI / 18+ only | dumbification, mating press, age gap, dilf! toji x fem! reader

dilf! toji who said yes as fast as light could travel. he thinks you're the sweetest thing but when you ended up on his bed thinking that it would only be a one night stand. he was so wrong.. completely pulled in by your presence, immediately agreeing to your little acquaintances(friends)-with-benefits situation, thinking that it wouldn't cause much change in his life.

“don't get offended, sweetheart. you don't look the part of a brat.. look at you, all sweet f'me, isn't that right?” he cooed once, when he had offered to buy you new dresses in roppongi. his large hands brushing the skin of your faintly reddended cheeks. toji thinks you're cute, and that he wouldn't have to deal with a brat.

he was proven wrong very, very soon.

toji had his hand wrapped tightly around your neck, making you bend in half so that your manicured toes were touching your earlobes. “you're quite—fuckin'— flexible..” the older man commented, his body pressed up on top of you. heavy balls slipping against the curve of your ass, making you shudder slightly. “never thought that you of all people.. would disobey me?"

you had angered toji, in pursuit of something less than appropriate. grunting when you placed yourself “innocently” on his lap while he was watching one of his lame game shows, eyes reflecting the bright lights that came from the television. those same pair that looked down as you slipped (read: grinded) on to his sweats covered bulge.

here you are, your flexibility tested when toji pushed your legs up further. “i just loveeee puttin' you in mating press.. gonna be my favorite position, whaddya think sweetheart?" he groaned, pushing and nuzzling his head into your neck. sharp and canine-like teeth digging into your neck, leaving messy hickies all over.

toji just loved seeing the fucked out expression on your face, thrusting deep enough until you started to babble incoherently, saliva bubbling in your mouth. “what's that? better speak up right, or i won't give you what you want..” mocked toji, a sly grin on his sweaty face as he pounded himself, deeper and deeper.

he always managed to bottom out with every deep thrust, his grip on your hands getting shaky, and you could feel the sweat dripping from his palms. “y'know you can talk.. i don't like not givin' you what you want but ya need to talk sweetie, talk for me..” toji knew you couldn't, his smirk growing wider. he loved making his girl, you, dumb when he fucks you.

“hope this is a lesson, sweet thing. don't tease me.. mkay?” he growled, hands slowly letting go of your numbing wrists.. caressing your torso and your chest. shuddering even more when he bottomed out again, his thrusts halting when he feels himself come inside you. heaving for a breath before he toji ultimately whispered into your ear, “because i'll fuck you the way you want me to.. in a much more appropriate and befitting way, sweetheart.”

“and you know how mean i get when i fuck you.. right?"

[willowsnook]

hi! could i get a scotch with lime in a copper mug? 💞✨

lando norris x mclarenrookie!reader

just shut up and come here

-----------------------------------------------------------------

With Max’s car starting to falter, Lando knew he had a real shot at competing for the WDC. As the season progressed, he’d become the favorite, and it finally felt like his time. There was just one problem: you.

In your rookie year in F1, you were holding third place, just 40 points behind Lando. Exceeding all the team's expectations, you’d proven to be a real competitor — and Lando wasn’t pleased. To him, the strategy should have been obvious: you were supposed to help him beat Max. But you saw it differently. After all, you were only 80 points behind the leader, and Zak and Andrea had decided to let things play out between the two of you, which only heightened the tension.

What started as a friendship had quickly soured after you overtook Lando to win in Hungary. Furious, he stormed into your driver’s room after the podium celebration, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, voice sharp.

You didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze. “A clean overtake,” you replied coolly.

“You’re screwing up my chances at the championship!” he seethed, his tone bitter.

"You do realize that I also have a shot at it?" You questioned. "Not my fault that I'm faster than you either."

At that, he got in your face, practically radiating anger. “Just stay out of my way,” he bit out before stalking out of the room.

It was the first of many heated clashes, and even Zak was starting to worry about the tension between his drivers. Things only escalated after your win in Baku, when Lando stood stony-faced on the podium, arms crossed, barely acknowledging the celebration. The media had a field day, and McLaren’s PR department wasn’t happy.

Seeing his growing frustration, your initial resentment slowly turned to concern. His behavior was spiraling, and it seemed no one was willing to address it — except you.

“What’s going on with you?” you demanded one day after a rough qualifying session, pushing open his door to find him pacing.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped, but you didn’t back down.

“You’re being a brat to everyone! It was fine when you were just an asshole to me, but this is getting out of hand.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied venomously.

“If you need someone to talk to, you know McLaren has plenty of resources,” you said softly, trying a different approach.

“I don’t need your help so just fuck off,” he said and you backed off.

That didn’t stop you from giving your own therapist his email, instructing her to email him nonstop until he set up a session. Something must have worked because in the break before Austin, Lando did some press about his struggles with mental health and you heard that he’d bought gifts for the whole garage team as an apology for his behavior.

You two still didn’t really talk but he gave you a head nod now as a hello and there wasn’t much tension between you in front of the media anymore.

Then, on the Thursday before the Austin GP, during your post-free-practice interviews, a reporter brought up Lando.

“Y/N, any thoughts on Helmut’s recent comments?” they asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I don’t keep track of what everyone’s saying.”

“He claimed that Lando has ‘mental weaknesses’ preventing him from being a real championship contender.”

You stiffened, feeling anger bubble up. “Yeah, interesting,” you started, your PR manager nodding, likely expecting you to stay professional. Too bad for them. “Honestly, he can go fuck off.”

The press buzzed with shock, and your PR manager hurried over, but you went on.

“Red Bull’s looking for anything to distract from their own mess. It’s 2024, and criticizing a driver for being open about mental health is pathetic. We’d all be a little better off if they put him in a nursing home Lando’s one of the most talented drivers out there, so Helmut can shove it. Thanks.”

You walked off, ignoring your PR manager’s frantic scolding.

Later, after the team debrief, you headed to your room, ready to call it a day. But outside your door, you saw Lando waiting, his expression softer than usual.

“Are you okay—?” you began, but he cut you off, stepping forward.

“Just shut up and come here,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug. You rubbed his back as he buried his head against your shoulder, his voice muffled. “I owe you so much. And after what you said today… even more.”

“This stuff is hard, Lando. Sometimes it feels like the whole world’s on our shoulders.” You pulled back to meet his gaze. “I like it better when you’ve got the energy to actually fight me.”

He laughed softly, then hugged you tighter. “Can we… start over? As friends?” he asked, his voice tentative.

You smiled. “Of course — but only after I win the championship.”

He groaned, but his eyes sparkled with humor. “In your dreams, rookie.”

[lyrefromthesea]

Could I ask for the hashira reaction waking up from anesthesia after needing surgery from a mission? I had seen a video of a guy still dizzy and goofy from the anesthesia after surgery... Like, the guy did not recognize his wife and said, when she touch him, that his wife would get mad seeing a pretty girl touching his chest, he was shocked and flirty after she said SHE was his wife.

Male Hashira x reader - anasthesia

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

when the nurse told you to bring your husband home as soon as possible, you were skeptical. what if he was hurt? did they hope he would be at home when he collapsed so the hospital could say it wasn't their fault?

you scoffed, not leaving until the nurse told you what was going on. you didn't expect to hear that your husband had been tormenting everyone entering his assigned room.

"some sunny day!~" his voice was ringing through the hallway, forcing you to quickly enter and close the door. it would be embarrassing to disturb the other patients, especially when the reason was a singing husband.

"Tengen, tone it down please!" you scolded him, but the man only looked at you with lazy eyes. hoping that he still followed your words, you looked at him with a glimmer of relaxation in your eyes.

only to hear him start again.

"we'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when."

you couldn't decide whether the feeling of embarrassment or the charm he possessed in this weird situation took over your mind, but it certainly got your face heating up.

Obanai:

"what.. are you sure..?" the way his heterochromic eyes stared at you in confusion and adoration made you chuckle. he was completely out of it after waking up.

"yes, i'm sure. you're my boyfriend, remember?" he could only stare in utter disbelief, his eyes wandering over your body and then back to your face.

after a minute of silence, he let his head plop against the pillow, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"and you're sure this is not a dream..?" he assured himself, opening his eyes to give you a testing glance. when you chuckled and nodded in response, he looked at the ceiling.

"this is the best day of my life.." he mumbled, his eyes falling shut. you laughed into the silence, hearing the man quietly snore.

he was awake a moment later, looking even more confused than before.

"[name].. are you laughing at me..?"

you spend the next five minutes explaining the situation to him. and he fell asleep right after.

Rengoku:

now how did this happen?

you couldn't move closer to your husband without worrying that he drops dead. he looked tired, not in the state to realize what was happening around him, nor could he answer.

yet he still managed to realize your exact location and showed a nonverbal response to it. everytime you came closer his heartbeat would pick up.

it basically skyrocketed when you touched his arm, the machine next to his bed sending out high sounds to signal raising heartbeat.

when you went to find a doctor, telling him exactly what happened, you were met with a laughing face.

"don't worry about it, your husband must be quite excited to see you."

you were dumbfounded by the doctors words. of course the thought of Rengoku growing flustered was cute, but not like this! you couldn't step closer without risking his heartbeat increase tenfold.

the whole story made him feel embarrassed whenever he heard it again.

Sanemi:

"have you ever thought of getting.. babies?" you spit out your drink, looking at him with shock, confusion and embarrassment.

did he really just say that?

"Sanemi, you can't be serious. I'm not able to-" you were quickly interrupted by a hand on yours. he had slid his scarred fingers over, gently placing them on your hands.

"i know, i know.."

thinking he had let go of the topic, you slowly avert your gaze. sitting next to his be had been proven quite difficult. who thought a gentle Sanemi was almost more exhausting than a normal Sanemi? just almost.

"what about adopting little rascals?" he checked, as if not birthing the children yourself made it any better. there were obvious reasons why you wouldn't get a child.

"what is it with you today?"

"..'m sorry, but ya would look so good carrying a small one around." the thought made your face warm up, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

"you should try getting some sleep now." you told him, watching the man groan, but close his eyes. it didn't take him long to fall asleep, softly snoring beside you.

that was just the medicine speaking out of him, he will have forgotten everything once he's awake again. right?

Giyuu:

"so pretty.." Giyuu said, hand still attached to your arm. when you entered the room earlier, he had immediately grabbed it and not let go since.

"love.." he mumbled, a curious hum left your lips. he was behaving different than before, but you wanted to make sure he wouldn't do anything dangerous.

besides, you found his more open side to be quite cute. he was a good lover, but often found himself having problems with wording his feelings. and after he woke up, all of it slipped out, leaving his lips like a river.

"you're so pretty, so smart.." he uttered, taking in a deep breath, "so breathtaking."

your cheeks were starting to heat up, not used to the many compliments you were receiving. "you think so?"

"absolutely, you consume my every thought.."

who knew Giyuu could be such a charmer? you would certainly tease him about it once he was back to normal.

Gyomei:

"Gyomei, I'm coming in.."

your voice was soft, slowly opening the door to his room and stepping inside. he didn't react, not even when you closed the door again, making your way to his bed.

you have never seen the gentle giant quite like this. sure, he was always a kind soul, but there was something more peaceful about him. the turn of his head was slow, acknowledging your presence with a small nod.

"are you feeling okay, i heard they needed to use more than usual.." you worried, he was bigger and taller than most, of course the treatment would be different for him. placing your hand on his cheeky you gently rubbed your thumb against his skin, watching the man close his eyes and lean into your touch.

he looked tired, exhaustion written over his features. with a small hum, you pulled back. "you should rest some more, the doctors said that you need a lot of sleep."

his hand moved to cradle your fingers into his palm, letting himself relax into his bed again. you understood, he wanted you to stay by his side, even while sleeping.

letting your hands stay in his hold, you made yourself comfortable on the chair next to him. this would be a long night, but it would all be worth it.